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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft
+Shelley, Volume I (of 2), by Florence A. Thomas Marshall
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Volume I (of 2)
+
+
+Author: Florence A. Thomas Marshall
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 8, 2011 [eBook #37955]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MARY
+WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY, VOLUME I (OF 2)***
+
+
+E-text prepared by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
+Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries
+(http://www.archive.org/details/toronto)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustration.
+ See 37955-h.htm or 37955-h.zip:
+ (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/37955/37955-h/37955-h.htm)
+ or
+ (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/37955/37955-h.zip)
+
+
+ Project Gutenberg also has Volume II of this work.
+ See http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37956
+
+
+ Images of the original pages are available through
+ Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See
+ http://www.archive.org/details/lifelettersofmar01marsuoft
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+ The original text includes Greek characters. For this text
+ version these letters have been replaced with transliterations.
+
+ The original text includes a blank space surrounded by
+ brackets. This is represented as [____] in this text version.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY
+
+I
+
+[Illustration: Photogravure by Annan & Swan
+
+_MRS SHELLEY._
+
+_After a portrait by Rothwell,_
+
+_in the possession of Sir Percy F. Shelley, Bart._]
+
+
+THE LIFE & LETTERS OF MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY
+
+by
+
+MRS. JULIAN MARSHALL
+
+With Portraits and Facsimile
+
+In Two Volumes
+
+VOL. I
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London
+Richard Bentley & Son
+Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen
+1889
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+The following biography was undertaken at the request of Sir Percy and
+Lady Shelley, and has been compiled from the MS. journals and letters in
+their possession, which were entrusted to me, without reserve, for this
+purpose.
+
+The earlier portions of the journal having been placed also at Professor
+Dowden's disposal for his _Life of Shelley_, it will be found that in my
+first volume many passages indispensable to a life of Mary Shelley have
+already appeared, in one form or another, in Professor Dowden's pages.
+This fact I have had to ignore, having indeed settled on the quotations
+necessary to my narrative before the _Life of Shelley_ appeared. They are
+given without comment or dilution, just as they occur; where omissions are
+made it is in order to avoid repetition, or because the everyday entries
+refer to trivial circumstances uninteresting to the general reader.
+
+Letters which have previously been published are shortened when they are
+only of moderate interest; unpublished letters are given complete wherever
+possible.
+
+Those who hope to find in these pages much new circumstantial evidence on
+the vexed subject of Shelley's separation from his first wife will be
+disappointed. No contemporary document now exists which puts the case
+beyond the reach of argument. Collateral evidence is not wanting, but even
+were this not beyond the scope of the present work it would be wrong on
+the strength of it to assert more than that Shelley himself felt certain
+of his wife's unfaithfulness. Of that there is no doubt, nor of the fact
+that all such evidence as did afterwards transpire went to prove him more
+likely to have been right than wrong in his belief.
+
+My first thanks are due to Sir Percy and Lady Shelley for the use of their
+invaluable documents,--for the photographs of original pictures which form
+the basis of the illustrations,--and last, not least, for their kindly
+help and sympathy during the fulfilment of my task.
+
+I wish especially to express my gratitude to Mrs. Charles Call for her
+kind permission to me to print the letters of her father, Mr. Trelawny,
+which are among the most interesting of my unpublished materials.
+
+I have to thank Miss Stuart, from whom I obtained important letters from
+Mr. Baxter and Godwin; and Mr. A. C. Haden, through whom I made the
+acquaintance of Miss Christy Baxter.
+
+To Professor Dowden, and, above all, to Mr. Garnett, I am indebted for
+much valuable help, I may say, of all kinds.
+
+FLORENCE A. MARSHALL.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ PAGES
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+ Introductory remarks--Account of William Godwin and Mary
+ Wollstonecraft.
+
+ 1797. Their marriage--Birth of their daughter--Death of Mary
+ Godwin 1-11
+
+
+ CHAPTER II
+
+ AUGUST 1797-JUNE 1812
+
+ 1797. Godwin goes to reside at the "Polygon."
+
+ 1798-99. His despondency--Repeated proposals of marriage to
+ various ladies.
+
+ 1801. Marriage with Mrs. Clairmont.
+
+ 1805. Enters business as a publisher--Books for children.
+
+ 1807. Removes to Skinner Street, Holborn.
+
+ 1808. Aaron Burr's first visit to England.
+
+ 1811. Mrs. Godwin and the children go to Margate and
+ Ramsgate--Mary's health improves--She remains till Christmas
+ at Miss Petman's.
+
+ 1812. Aaron Burr's sojourn in England--Intimacy with the
+ Godwins--Extracts from his journal--Mary is invited to stay
+ with the Baxters at Dundee 12-26
+
+
+ CHAPTER III
+
+ JUNE 1812-MAY 1814
+
+ 1812. Mary sails for Dundee--Godwin's letter to Mr. Baxter--
+ The Baxters--Mary stays with them five months--Returns to
+ London with Christy Baxter--The Shelleys dine in Skinner
+ Street (Nov. 11)--Christy's enjoyment of London.
+
+ 1813. Godwin's letter to an anonymous correspondent
+ describing Fanny and Mary--Mary and Christy go back to Dundee
+ (June 3)--Mary's reminiscences of this time in the preface to
+ _Frankenstein_.
+
+ 1814. Mary returns home (March 30)--Domestic trials--Want of
+ guidance--Mrs. Godwin's jealousy--Shelley calls on Godwin
+ (May 5) 27-41
+
+
+ CHAPTER IV
+
+ APRIL-JUNE 1814
+
+ Account of Shelley's first introduction of himself to
+ Godwin--His past history--Correspondence (1812)--Shelley
+ goes to Ireland--Publishes address to the Irish people--
+ Godwin disapproves--Failure of Shelley's schemes--Godwin's
+ fruitless journey to Lynmouth (1813)--The Godwins and
+ Shelleys meet in London--The Shelleys leave town (Nov. 12).
+
+ 1814. Mary makes acquaintance with Shelley in May--
+ Description of her--Shelley's depression of spirits--His
+ genius and personal charm--He and Mary become intimate--Their
+ meetings by Mary Wollstonecraft's grave--Episode described by
+ Hogg--Godwin's distress for money and dependence on
+ Shelley--Shelley constantly at Skinner Street--He and Mary
+ own their mutual love--He gives her his copy of "Queen
+ Mab"--His inscription--Her inscription--Hopelessness 42-56
+
+
+ CHAPTER V
+
+ JUNE-AUGUST 1814
+
+ Retrospective history of Shelley's first marriage--
+ Estrangement between him and Harriet after their visit to
+ Scotland in 1813--Deterioration in Harriet--Shelley's deep
+ dejection--He is much attracted by Mrs. Boinville and her
+ circle--His conclusions respecting Harriet--Their effect on
+ him--Harriet is at Bath--She becomes anxious to hear of
+ him--Godwin writes to her--She comes to town and sees
+ Shelley, who informs her of his intentions--Godwin goes to
+ see her--He talks to Shelley and to Jane Clairmont--The
+ situation is intolerable--Shelley tells Mary everything--
+ They leave England precipitately, accompanied by Jane
+ Clairmont (July 28) 57-67
+
+
+ CHAPTER VI
+
+ AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 1814
+
+ 1814. (July).--They cross to Calais--Mrs. Godwin arrives in
+ pursuit of Jane--Jane thinks of returning, but changes her
+ mind and remains--Mrs. Godwin departs--Joint journal of
+ Shelley and Mary--They arrive at Paris without any money--
+ They procure some, and set off to walk through France with
+ a donkey--It is exchanged for a mule, and that for a
+ carriage--Journal--They arrive in Switzerland, and having
+ settled themselves for the winter, at once start to come
+ home--They arrive in England penniless, and have to obtain
+ money through Harriet--They go into lodgings in London 68-81
+
+
+ CHAPTER VII
+
+ SEPTEMBER 1814-MAY 1815
+
+ 1814. (September).--Godwin's mortification at what had
+ happened--False reports concerning him--Keeps Shelley well
+ in sight, but will only communicate with him through a
+ solicitor--General demoralisation of the household--Mrs.
+ Godwin and Fanny peep in at Shelley's windows--Poverty of
+ the Shelleys--Harriet's creditors--Shelley's many
+ dependents--He has to hide from bailiffs--Jane's
+ excitability--Studious habits of Shelley and Mary--Extracts
+ from journal.
+
+ 1815. Shelley's grandfather dies--Increase of income--Mary's
+ first baby born--It dies--Her regret--Fanny comes to see
+ her--Frequent change of lodgings--Hogg a constant visitor--
+ Peacock imprisoned for debt--He writes to the Shelleys--Jane
+ a source of much annoyance--She chooses to be called
+ "Clara"--Plans for her future--She departs to Lynmouth 82-114
+
+
+ CHAPTER VIII
+
+ MAY 1815-SEPTEMBER 1816
+
+ 1815. Objections raised to Clara's return to Skinner Street--
+ Her letter to Fanny Godwin from Lynmouth--The Shelleys make a
+ tour in South Devon--Shelley seeks for houses--Letter from
+ Mary--They settle at Bishopsgate--Boating expedition--Happy
+ summer--Shelley writes "Alastor."
+
+ 1816. Mary's son William born--List of books read by Shelley
+ and Mary in 1815--Clara's project of going on the stage--Her
+ connection with Byron--She introduces him to the Shelleys--
+ Shelley's efforts to raise money for Godwin--Godwin's
+ rapacity--Refuses to take a cheque made out in Shelley's
+ name--Shelley escapes from England--Is persuaded by Clara
+ (now called "Clare" or "Claire") to go to Geneva--Mary's
+ descriptive letters--Byron arrives at Geneva--Association of
+ Shelley and Byron--Origin of _Frankenstein_ as related by
+ Mary--She begins to write it--Voyage of Shelley and Byron
+ round the lake of Geneva--Tour to the valley of Chamouni--
+ Journal--Return to England (August)--Mary and Clare go to
+ Bath, and Shelley to Marlow 115-157
+
+
+ CHAPTER IX
+
+ SEPTEMBER 1816-FEBRUARY 1817
+
+ 1816. Life in lodgings at Bath--Anxieties--Letters from
+ Fanny--Her pleadings on Godwin's behalf--Her own
+ disappointment--She leaves home in despair--Dies by her own
+ hand at Swansea (October 9)--Shelley's visit to Marlow--
+ Letter from Mary--Shelley's search for Harriet--He hears of
+ her death--His yearning after his children--Marriage with
+ Mary (Dec. 29).
+
+ 1817. Birth of Clare's infant (Jan. 13)--Visit of the
+ Shelleys to the Leigh Hunts at Hampstead--Removal to Marlow 158-181
+
+
+ CHAPTER X
+
+ MARCH 1817-MARCH 1818
+
+ 1817 (March).--Albion House--Description--Visit of the Leigh
+ Hunts--Shelley's benevolence to the poor--Lord Eldon's
+ decree depriving Shelley of the custody of his children--His
+ indignation and grief--Godwin's continued impecuniosity and
+ exactions--Charles Clairmont's requests--Mary's visit to
+ Skinner Street--_Frankenstein_ is published--_Journal of a
+ Six Weeks' Tour_--Shelley writes _Revolt of Islam_--Allegra's
+ presence the cause of serious annoyance to the Shelleys--Mr.
+ Baxter's visit of discovery to Marlow--Birth of Mary's
+ daughter Clara (Sept. 2)--Mr. Baxter's second visit--His warm
+ appreciation of Shelley--Fruitless efforts to convert his
+ daughter Isabel to his way of thinking--The Shelleys
+ determine to leave Marlow--Shelley's ill-health--Mary's
+ letters to him in London--Desirability of sending Allegra to
+ her father--They decide on going abroad and taking her.
+
+ 1818. Stay in London--The Booths and Baxters break off
+ acquaintance with the Shelleys--Shelley suffers from
+ ophthalmia--Preparations for departure--The three children
+ are christened--The whole party leave England (March 12) 182-210
+
+
+ CHAPTER XI
+
+ MARCH 1818-JUNE 1819
+
+ 1818 (March).--Journey to Milan--Allegra sent to Venice--
+ Leghorn--Acquaintance with the Gisbornes--Lucca--Mary's wish
+ for literary work--Shelley and Clare go to Venice--The
+ Hoppners--Byron's villa at Este--Clara's illness--Letters--
+ Shelley to Mary--Mary to Mrs. Gisborne--Journey to Venice--
+ Clara dies--Godwin's letter to Mary--Este--Venice--Journey to
+ Rome--Naples--Shelley's depression of spirits.
+
+ 1819. Discovery of Paolo's intrigue with Elise--They are
+ married--Return to Rome--Enjoyment--Shelley writes
+ _Prometheus Unbound_ and the _Cenci_--Miss Curran--Delay in
+ leaving Rome--William Shelley's illness and death 211-243
+
+
+ CHAPTER XII
+
+ JUNE 1819-SEPTEMBER 1820
+
+ 1819 (August).--Leghorn--Journal--Mary's misery and utter
+ collapse of spirits--Letters to Miss Curran and Mrs. Hunt--
+ The Gisbornes--Henry Reveley's project of a steamboat--
+ Shelley's ardour--Letter from Godwin--Removal to Florence--
+ Acquaintance with Mrs. Mason (Lady Mountcashel)--Birth of
+ Percy (Nov. 19).
+
+ 1820. Mary writes _Valperga_--Alarm about money--Removal to
+ Pisa--Paolo's infamous plot--Shelley seeks legal aid--Casa
+ Ricci, Leghorn--"Letter to Maria Gisborne"--Uncomfortable
+ relations of Mary and Clare--Godwin's distress and petitions
+ for money--Vexations and anxieties--Baths of San Giuliano--
+ General improvement--Shelley writes _Witch of Atlas_ 244-268
+
+
+ CHAPTER XIII
+
+ SEPTEMBER 1820-AUGUST 1821
+
+ 1820. Abandonment of the steamboat project--Disappointment--
+ Wet season--The Serchio in flood--Return to Pisa--Medwin--His
+ illness--Clare takes a situation at Florence.
+
+ 1821. Pisan acquaintances--Pacchiani--Sgricci--Prince
+ Mavrocordato--Emilia Viviani--Mary's Greek studies--Shelley's
+ trance of Emilia--It passes--The Williams' arrive--Friendship
+ with the Shelleys--Allegra placed in a convent--Clare's
+ despair--Shelley's passion for boating--They move to
+ Pugnano--"The boat on the Serchio"--Mary sits to E. Williams
+ for her portrait--Shelley visits Byron at Ravenna 269-293
+
+
+ CHAPTER XIV
+
+ AUGUST-NOVEMBER 1821
+
+ 1821. Letters from Shelley to Mary--He hears from Lord Byron
+ of a scandalous story current about himself--Mary, at his
+ request, writes to Mrs. Hoppner confuting the charges--Letter
+ entrusted to Lord Byron, who neglects to forward it--Shelley
+ visits Allegra at Bagnacavallo--Winter at Pisa--"Tre Palazzi
+ di Chiesa"--Letters: Mary to Miss Curran; Clare to Mary;
+ Shelley to Ollier--_Valperga_ is sent to Godwin--His letter
+ accepting the gift (Jan. 1822)--Extracts 294-315
+
+
+ CHAPTER XV
+
+ NOVEMBER 1821-APRIL 1822
+
+ 1822. Byron comes to Pisa--Letter from Mary to Mrs.
+ Gisborne--Journal--Trelawny arrives--Mary's first impression
+ of him--His description of her--His wonder on seeing
+ Shelley--Life at Pisa--Letters from Mary to Mrs. Gisborne
+ and Mrs. Hunt--Clare's disquiet--Her plans for getting
+ possession of Allegra--Affair of the dragoon--Judicial
+ inquiry--Projected colony at Spezzia--Shelley invites Clare
+ to come--She accepts--Difficulty in finding houses--
+ Allegra's death 316-342
+
+
+ CHAPTER XVI
+
+ APRIL-JULY 1822
+
+ 1822 (April).--Difficulty in breaking the news to Clare--
+ Mary in weak health--Clare, Mary, and Percy sent to Spezzia--
+ Letter from Shelley--He follows with the Williams'--Casa
+ Magni--Clare hears the truth--Her grief--Domestic worries--
+ Mary's illness and suffering--Shelley's great enjoyment of
+ the sea--Williams' journal--The _Ariel_--Godwin's affairs and
+ threatened bankruptcy--Cruel letters--They are kept back from
+ Mary--Mary's letter to Mrs. Gisborne--Her serious illness--
+ Shelley's nervous attacks, dreams and visions--Mrs. Williams'
+ society soothing to him--Arrival of the Leigh Hunts at
+ Genoa--Shelley and Williams go to meet them at Pisa--They
+ sail for Leghorn--Mary's gloomy forebodings--Letters from
+ Shelley and Mrs. Williams--The voyagers' return is anxiously
+ awaited--They never come--Loss of the _Ariel_ 343-369
+
+
+
+
+THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+ They say that thou wert lovely from thy birth,
+ Of glorious parents, thou aspiring Child.
+ I wonder not, for one then left the earth
+ Whose life was like a setting planet mild,
+ Which clothed thee in the radiance undefiled
+ Of its departing glory: still her fame
+ Shines on thee thro' the tempest dark and wild
+ Which shakes these latter days; and thou canst claim
+ The shelter, from thy Sire, of an immortal name.
+ SHELLEY.
+
+
+"So you really have seen Godwin, and had little Mary in your arms! the
+only offspring of a union that will certainly be matchless in the present
+generation." So, in 1798, wrote Sir Henry Taylor's mother to her husband,
+who had travelled from Durham to London for the purpose of making
+acquaintance with the famous author of _Political Justice_.
+
+This "little Mary," the daughter of William and Mary Wollstonecraft
+Godwin, was destined herself to form a union the memory of which will live
+even longer than that of her illustrious parents. She is remembered as
+_Mary Shelley_, wife of the poet. In any complete account of his life she
+plays, next to his, the most important part. Young as she was during the
+few years they passed together, her character and her intellect were
+strong enough to affect, to modify, in some degree to mould his. That he
+became what he did is in great measure due to her. This, if nothing more
+were known of her, would be sufficient to stamp her as a remarkable woman,
+of rare ability and moral excellence, well deserving of a niche in the
+almost universal biographical series of the present day. But, besides
+this, she would have been eminent among her sex at any time, in any
+circumstances, and would, it cannot be doubted, have achieved greater
+personal fame than she actually did but for the fact that she became, at a
+very early age, the wife of Shelley. Not only has his name overshadowed
+her, but the circumstances of her association with him were such as to
+check to a considerable extent her own sources of invention and activity.
+Had that freedom been her lot in which her mother's destiny shaped itself,
+her talents must have asserted themselves as not inferior, as in some
+respects superior, to those of Mary Wollstonecraft. This is the answer to
+the question, sometimes asked,--as if, in becoming Shelley's wife, she had
+forfeited all claim to individual consideration,--why any separate Life of
+her should be written at all. Even as a completion of Shelley's own story,
+Mary's Life is necessary. There remains the fact that her husband's
+biographers have been busy with her name. It is impossible now to pass it
+over in silence and indifference. She has been variously misunderstood. It
+has been her lot to be idealised as one who gave up all for love, and to
+be condemned and anathematised for the very same reason. She has been
+extolled for perfections she did not possess, and decried for the absence
+of those she possessed in the highest degree. She has been lauded as a
+genius, and depreciated as one overrated, whose talent would never have
+been heard of at all but for the name of Shelley. To her husband she has
+been esteemed alternately a blessing and the reverse.
+
+As a fact, it is probable that no woman of like endowments and promise
+ever abdicated her own individuality in favour of another so
+transcendently greater. To consider Mary altogether apart from Shelley is,
+indeed, not possible, but the study of the effect, on life and character,
+of this memorable union is unique of its kind. From Shelley's point of
+view it has been variously considered; from Mary's, as yet, not at all.
+
+
+Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin was born on the 30th of August 1797.
+
+Her father, the philosopher and philosophical novelist, William Godwin,
+began his career as a Dissenting minister in Norfolk, and something of the
+preacher's character adhered to him all his life. Not the apostolic
+preacher. No enthusiasm of faith or devotion, no constraining fervour,
+eliciting the like in others, were his, but a calm, earnest, philosophic
+spirit, with an irresistible impulse to guide and advise others.
+
+This same calm rationalism got the better, in no long time, of his
+religious creed, which he seems to have abandoned slowly, gradually, and
+deliberately, without painful struggle. His religion, of the head alone,
+was easily replaced by other views for which intellectual qualities were
+all-sufficient. Of a cool, unemotional temperament, safe from any snares
+of passion or imagination, he became the very type of a town philosopher.
+Abstractions of the intellect and the philosophy of politics were his
+world. He had a true townsman's love of the theatre, but external nature
+for the most part left him unaffected, as it found him. With the most
+exalted opinion of his own genius and merit, he was nervously susceptible
+to the criticism of others, yet always ready to combat any judgment
+unfavourable to himself. Never weary of argument, he thought that by its
+means, conducted on lines of reason, all questions might be finally
+settled, all problems satisfactorily and speedily solved. Hence the
+fascination he possessed for those in doubt and distress of mind. Cool
+rather than cold-hearted, he had a certain benignity of nature which,
+joined to intellectual exaltation, passed as warmth and fervour. His
+kindness was very great to young men at the "storm and stress" period of
+their lives. They for their part thought that, as he was delighted to
+enter into, discuss and analyse their difficulties, he must, himself, have
+felt all these difficulties and have overcome them; and, whether they
+followed his proffered advice or not, they never failed to look up to him
+as an oracle.
+
+Friendships Godwin had, but of love he seems to have kept absolutely clear
+until at the age of forty-three he met Mary Wollstonecraft. He had not
+much believed in love as a disturbing element, and had openly avowed in
+his writings that he thought it usurped far too large a place in the
+ordinary plan of human life. He did not think it needful to reckon with
+passion or emotion as factors in the sum of existence, and in his ideal
+programme they played no part at all.
+
+Mary Wollstonecraft was in all respects his opposite. Her ardent,
+impulsive, Irish nature had stood the test of an early life of much
+unhappiness. Her childhood's home had been a wretched one; suffering and
+hardship were her earliest companions. She had had not only to maintain
+herself, but to be the support of others weaker than herself, and many of
+these had proved unworthy of her devotion. But her rare nature had risen
+superior to these trials, which, far from crushing her, elicited her
+finest qualities.
+
+The indignation aroused in her by injustice and oppression, her revolt
+against the consecrated tyranny of conventionality, impelled her to raise
+her voice in behalf of the weak and unfortunate. The book which made her
+name famous, _A Vindication of the Rights of Women_, won for her then, as
+it has done since, an admiration from half of mankind only equalled by the
+reprobation of the other half. Yet most of its theories, then considered
+so dangerously extreme, would to-day be contested by few, although the
+frankness of expression thought so shocking now attracted no special
+notice then, and indicated no coarseness of feeling, but only the habit of
+calling things by their names.
+
+In 1792, desiring to become better acquainted with the French language,
+and also to follow on the spot the development of France's efforts in the
+cause of freedom, she went to Paris, where, in a short time, owing to the
+unforeseen progress of the Revolution, she was virtually imprisoned, in
+the sense of being unable to return to England. Here she met Captain
+Gilbert Imlay, an American, between whom and herself an attachment sprang
+up, and whose wife, in all but the legal and religious ceremony, she
+became. This step she took in full conscientiousness. Had she married
+Imlay she must have openly declared her true position as a British
+subject, an act which would have been fraught with the most dangerous,
+perhaps fatal consequences to them both. A woman of strong religious
+feeling, she had upheld the sanctity of marriage in her writings, yet not
+on religious grounds. The heart of marriage, and reason for it, with her,
+was love. She regarded herself as Imlay's lawful wife, and had perfect
+faith in his constancy. It wore out, however, and after causing her much
+suspense, anxiety, and affliction, he finally left her with a little girl
+some eighteen months old. Her grief was excessive, and for a time
+threatened to affect her reason. But her healthy temperament prevailed,
+and the powerful tie of maternal love saved her from the consequences of
+despair. It was well for her that she had to work hard at her literary
+occupations to support herself and her little daughter.
+
+It was at this juncture that she became acquainted with William Godwin.
+They had already met once, before Mary's sojourn in France, but at this
+first interview neither was impressed by the other. Since her return to
+London he had shunned her because she was too much talked about in
+society. Imagining her to be obtrusively "strong-minded" and deficient in
+delicacy, he was too strongly prejudiced against her even to read her
+books. But by degrees he was won over. He saw her warmth of heart, her
+generous temper, her vigour of intellect; he saw too that she had
+suffered. Such susceptibility as he had was fanned into warmth. His
+critical acumen could not but detect her rare quality and worth, although
+the keen sense of humour and Irish charm which fascinated others may, with
+him, have told against her for a time. But the nervous vanity which formed
+his closest link with ordinary human nature must have been flattered by
+the growing preference of one so widely admired, and whom he discovered to
+be even more deserving of admiration and esteem than the world knew. As to
+her, accustomed as she was to homage, she may have felt that for the first
+time she was justly appreciated, and to her wounded and smarting
+susceptibilities this balm of appreciation must have been immeasurable.
+Her first freshness of feeling had been wasted on a love which proved to
+have been one-sided and which had recoiled on itself. To love and be
+loved again was the beginning of a new life for her. And so it came about
+that the coldest of men and the warmest of women found their happiness in
+each other. Thus drawn together, the discipline afforded to her nature by
+the rudest realities of life, to his by the severities of study, had been
+such as to promise a growing and a lasting companionship and affection.
+
+In the short memoir of his wife, prefixed by Godwin to his published
+collection of her letters, he has given his own account, a touching one,
+of the growth and recognition of their love.
+
+ The partiality we conceived for each other was in that mode which I
+ have always considered as the purest and most refined style of love.
+ It would have been impossible for the most minute observer to have
+ said who was before and who was after. One sex did not take the
+ priority which long-established custom has awarded it, nor the other
+ overstep that delicacy which is so severely imposed. I am not
+ conscious that either party can assume to have the agent or the
+ patient, the toil spreader or the prey, in the affair. When in the
+ course of things the disclosure came, there was nothing in a manner
+ for either party to disclose to the other....
+
+ There was no period of throes and resolute explanation attendant on
+ the tale. It was friendship melting into love.
+
+They did not, however, marry at once. Godwin's opinion of marriage, looked
+on as indissoluble, was that it was "a law, and the worst of all laws." In
+accordance with this view, the ceremony did not take place till their
+union had lasted some months, and when it did, it was regarded by Godwin
+in the light of a distinct concession. He expresses himself most
+decisively on this point in a letter to his friend, Mr. Wedgwood of
+Etruria (printed by Mr. Kegan Paul in his memoirs of Godwin), announcing
+his marriage, which had actually taken place a month before, but had been
+kept secret.
+
+ Some persons have found an inconsistency between my practice in this
+ instance and my doctrines. But I cannot see it. The doctrine of my
+ _Political Justice_ is, that an attachment in some degree permanent
+ between two persons of opposite sexes is right, but that marriage, as
+ practised in European countries, is wrong. I still adhere to that
+ opinion. Nothing but a regard for the happiness of the individual,
+ which I have no right to ignore, could have induced me to submit to an
+ institution which I wish to see abolished, and which I would recommend
+ to my fellow-men never to practise but with the greatest caution.
+ Having done what I thought was necessary for the peace and
+ respectability of the individual, I hold myself no otherwise bound
+ than I was before the ceremony took place.
+
+It is certain that he did not repent his concession. But their wedded
+happiness was of short duration. On 30th August 1797 a little girl was
+born to them.
+
+All seemed well at first with the mother. But during the night which
+followed alarming symptoms made their appearance. For a time it was hoped
+that these had been overcome, and a deceptive rally of two days set
+Godwin free from anxiety. But a change for the worst supervened, and after
+four days of intense suffering, sweetly and patiently borne, Mary died,
+and Godwin was again alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+AUGUST 1797-JUNE 1812
+
+
+Alone, in the sense of absence of companionship, but not alone in the
+sense that he was before, for, when he lost his wife, two helpless little
+girl-lives were left dependent on him. One was Fanny, Mary
+Wollstonecraft's child by Imlay, now three and a half years old; the other
+the newly-born baby, named after her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, and the
+subject of this memoir.
+
+The tenderness of her mother's warm heart, her father's ripe wisdom, the
+rich inheritance of intellect and genius which was her birthright, all
+these seemed to promise her the happiest of childhoods. But these bright
+prospects were clouded within a few hours of her birth by that change in
+her mother's condition which, ten days later, ended in death.
+
+The little infant was left to the care of a father of much theoretic
+wisdom but profound practical ignorance, so confirmed in his old bachelor
+ways by years and habit that, even when love so far conquered him as to
+make him quit the single state, he declined family life, and carried on a
+double existence, taking rooms a few doors from his wife's home, and
+combining the joys--as yet none of the cares--of matrimony with the
+independence, and as much as possible of the irresponsibility, of
+bachelorhood. Godwin's sympathies with childhood had been first elicited
+by his intercourse with little Fanny Imlay, whom, from the time of his
+union, he treated as his own daughter, and to whom he was unvaryingly kind
+and indulgent.
+
+He moved at once after his wife's death into the house, Polygon, Somers
+Town, where she had lived, and took up his abode there with the two
+children. They had a nurse, and various lady friends of the Godwins, Mrs.
+Reveley and others, gave occasional assistance or superintendence. An
+experiment was tried of a lady-housekeeper which, however, failed, as the
+lady in becoming devoted to the children showed a disposition to become
+devoted to Godwin also, construing civilities into marked attentions,
+resenting fancied slights, and becoming at last an insupportable thorn in
+the poor philosopher's side. His letters speak of his despondency and
+feeling of unfitness to have the care of these young creatures devolved on
+him, and with this sense there came also the renewed perception of the
+rare maternal qualities of the wife he had lost.
+
+ "The poor children!" he wrote, six weeks after his bereavement. "I am
+ myself totally unfitted to educate them. The scepticism which perhaps
+ sometimes leads me right in matters of speculation is torment to me
+ when I would attempt to direct the infant mind. I am the most unfit
+ person for this office; she was the best qualified in the world. What
+ a change! The loss of the children is less remediless than mine. You
+ can understand the difference."
+
+The immediate consequence of this was that he, who had passed so many
+years in contented bachelorhood, made, within a short time, repeated
+proposals of marriage to different ladies, some of them urged with a
+pertinacity nothing short of ludicrous, so ingenuously and argumentatively
+plain does he make it that he found it simply incredible any woman should
+refuse him to whom he had condescended to propose. His former objections
+to marriage are never now alluded to and seem relegated to the category of
+obsolete theories. Nothing testifies so strongly to his married happiness
+as his constant efforts to recover any part of it, and his faith in the
+possibility of doing so. In 1798 he proposed again and again to a Miss Lee
+whom he had not seen half a dozen times. In 1799 he importuned the
+beautiful Mrs. Reveley, who had, herself, only been a widow for a month,
+to marry him. He was really attached to her, and was much wounded when,
+not long after, she married a Mr. Gisborne.
+
+During Godwin's preoccupations and occasional absences, the kindest and
+most faithful friend the children had was James Marshall, who acted as
+Godwin's amanuensis, and was devotedly attached to him and all who
+belonged to him.
+
+In 1801 Godwin married a Mrs. Clairmont, his next-door neighbour, a widow
+with a son, Charles, about Fanny's age, and a daughter, Jane, somewhat
+younger than little Mary. The new Mrs. Godwin was a clever, bustling,
+second-rate woman, glib of tongue and pen, with a temper undisciplined and
+uncontrolled; not bad-hearted, but with a complete absence of all the
+finer sensibilities; possessing a fund of what is called "knowledge of the
+world," and a plucky, enterprising, happy-go-lucky disposition, which
+seemed to the philosophic and unpractical Godwin, in its way, a
+manifestation of genius. Besides, she was clever enough to admire Godwin,
+and frank enough to tell him so, points which must have been greatly in
+her favour.
+
+Although her father's remarriage proved a source of lifelong unhappiness
+to Mary, it may not have been a bad thing for her and Fanny at the time.
+Instead of being left to the care of servants, with the occasional
+supervision of chance friends, they were looked after with solicitous, if
+not always the most judicious care. The three little girls were near
+enough of an age to be companions to each other, but Fanny was the senior
+by three years and a half. She bore Godwin's name, and was considered and
+treated as the eldest daughter of the house.
+
+Godwin's worldly circumstances were at all times most precarious, nor had
+he the capability or force of will to establish them permanently on a
+better footing. His earnings from his literary works were always
+forestalled long before they were due, and he was in the constant habit of
+applying to his friends for loans or advances of money which often could
+only be repaid by similar aid from some other quarter.
+
+In the hope of mending their fortunes a little, Mrs. Godwin, in 1805,
+induced her husband to make a venture as a publisher. He set up a small
+place of business in Hanway Street, in the name of his foreman, Baldwin,
+deeming that his own name might operate prejudicially with the public on
+account of his advanced political and social opinions, and also that his
+own standing in the literary world might suffer did it become known that
+he was connected with trade.
+
+Mrs. Godwin was the chief practical manager in this business, which
+finally involved her husband in ruin, but for a time promised well enough.
+The chief feature in the enterprise was a "Magazine of Books for the use
+and amusement of children," published by Godwin under the name of Baldwin;
+books of history, mythology, and fable, all admirably written for their
+special purpose. He used to test his juvenile works by reading them to
+his children and observing the effect. Their remark would be (so he says),
+"How easy this is! Why, we learn it by heart almost as fast as we read
+it." "Their suffrage," he adds, "gave me courage, and I carried on my work
+to the end." Mrs. Godwin translated, for the business, several childrens'
+books from the French. Among other works specially written, Lamb's _Tales
+from Shakespeare_ owes its existence to "M. J. Godwin & Co.," the name
+under which the firm was finally established.
+
+New and larger premises were taken in Skinner Street, Holborn, and in the
+autumn of 1807 the whole family, which now included five young ones, of
+whom Charles Clairmont was the eldest, and William, the son of Godwin and
+his second wife, the youngest, removed to a house next door to the
+publishing office. Here they remained until 1822.
+
+No continuous record exists of the family life, and the numerous letters
+of Godwin and Mrs. Godwin when either was absent from home contain only
+occasional references to it. Both parents were too much occupied with
+business systematically to superintend the children's education. Mrs.
+Godwin, however, seems to have taken a bustling interest in ordering it,
+and scrupulously refers to Godwin all points of doubt or discussion. From
+his letters one would judge that, while he gave due attention to each
+point, discussing _pros_ and _cons_ with his deliberate impartiality, his
+wife practically decided everything. Although they sometimes quarrelled
+(on one occasion to the extent of seriously proposing to separate) they
+always made it up again, nor is there any sign that on the subject of the
+children's training they ever had any real difference of opinion. Mrs.
+Godwin's jealous fussiness gave Godwin abundant opportunities for the
+exercise of philosophy, and to the inherent untruthfulness of her manner
+and speech he remained strangely and philosophically blind. From allusions
+in letters we gather that the children had a daily governess, with
+occasional lessons from a master, Mr. Burton. It is often asserted that
+Mrs. Godwin was a harsh and cruel stepmother, who made the children's home
+miserable. There is nothing to prove this. Later on, when moral guidance
+and sympathy were needed, she fell short indeed of what she might have
+been. But for the material wellbeing of the children she cared well
+enough, and was at any rate desirous that they should be happy, whether or
+not she always took the best means of making them so. And Godwin placed
+full confidence in her practical powers.
+
+In May 1811 Mrs. Godwin and all the children except Fanny, who stayed at
+home to keep house for Godwin, went for sea-bathing to Margate, moving
+afterwards to Ramsgate. This had been urged by Mr. Cline, the family
+doctor, for the good of little Mary, who, during some years of her
+otherwise healthy girlhood, suffered from a weakness in one arm. They
+boarded at the house of a Miss Petman, who kept a ladies' school, but had
+their sleeping apartments at an inn or other lodging. Mary, however, was
+sent to stay altogether at Miss Petman's, in order to be quiet, and in
+particular to be out of the way of little William, "he made so boisterous
+a noise when going to bed at night."
+
+The sea-breezes soon worked the desired effect. "Mary's arm is better,"
+writes Mrs. Godwin on the 10th of June. "She begins to move and use it."
+So marked and rapid was the improvement that Mrs. Godwin thought it would
+be as well to leave her behind for a longer stay when the rest returned to
+town, and wrote to consult Godwin about it. His answer is characteristic.
+
+ When I do not answer any of the lesser points in your letters, it is
+ because I fully agree with you, and therefore do not think it
+ necessary to draw out an answer point by point, but am content to
+ assent by silence.... This was the case as to Mary's being left in the
+ care of Miss Petman. It was recommended by Mr. Cline from the first
+ that she should stay six months; to this recommendation we both
+ assented. It shall be so, if it can, and undoubtedly I conceived you,
+ on the spot, most competent to select the residence.
+
+Mary accordingly remained at Miss Petman's as a boarder, perhaps as a
+pupil also, till 19th December, when, from her father's laconic but minute
+and scrupulously accurate diary, we learn that she returned home. For the
+next five months she was in Skinner Street, participating in its busy,
+irregular family life, its ups and downs, its anxieties, discomforts, and
+amusements, its keen intellectual activity and lively interest in social
+and literary matters, in all of which the young people took their full
+share. Entries are frequent in Godwin's diary of visits to the theatre, of
+tea-drinkings, of guests of all sorts at home. One of these guests affords
+us, in his journal, some agreeable glimpses into the Godwin household.
+
+This was the celebrated Aaron Burr, sometime Vice-President of the United
+States, now an exile and a wanderer in Europe.
+
+At the time of his election he had got into disgrace with his party, and,
+when nominated for the Governorship of New York, he had been opposed and
+defeated by his former allies. The bitter contest led to a duel between
+him and Alexander Hamilton, in which the latter was killed. Disfranchised
+by the laws of New York for having fought a duel, and indicted (though
+acquitted) for murder in New Jersey, Burr set out on a journey through the
+Western States, nourishing schemes of sedition and revenge. When he
+purchased 400,000 acres of land on the Red River, and gave his adherents
+to understand that the Spanish Dominions were to be conquered, his
+proceedings excited alarm. President Jefferson issued a proclamation
+against him, and he was arrested on a charge of high treason. Nothing
+could, however, be positively proved, and after a six months' trial he was
+liberated. He at once started for Europe, having planned an attack on
+Mexico, for which he hoped to get funds and adherents. He was
+disappointed, and during the four years which he passed in Europe he often
+lived in the greatest poverty.
+
+On his first visit to England, in 1808, Burr met Godwin only once, but the
+entry in his journal, besides bearing indirect witness to the great
+celebrity of Mary Wollstonecraft in America, gives an idea of the kind of
+impression made on a stranger by the second Mrs. Godwin.
+
+"I have seen the two daughters of Mary Wollstonecraft," he writes. "They
+are very fine children (the eldest no longer a child, being now fifteen),
+but scarcely a discernible trace of the mother. Now Godwin has been seven
+or eight years married to a second wife, a sensible, amiable woman."
+
+For the next four years Burr was a wanderer in Holland and France. His
+journal, kept for the benefit of his daughter Theodosia, to whom he also
+addressed a number of letters, is full of strange and stirring interest.
+In 1812 he came back to England, where it was not long before he drifted
+to Godwin's door. Burr's character was licentious and unscrupulous, but
+his appearance and manners were highly prepossessing; he made friends
+wherever he went. The Godwin household was full of hospitality for such
+Bohemian wanderers as he. Always itself in a precarious state of fortune,
+it held out the hand of fellowship to others whose existence from day to
+day was uncertain. A man of brains and ideas, of congenial and lively
+temperament, was sure of a fraternal welcome. And though many of Godwin's
+older friends were, in time, estranged from him through their antipathy to
+his wife, she was full of patronising good-nature for a man like Burr, who
+well knew how to ingratiate himself.
+
+ _Burr's Journal, February 15, 1812._--Had only time to get to
+ Godwin's, where we dined. In the evening William, the only son of
+ William Godwin, a lad of about nine years old, gave his weekly
+ lecture: having heard how Coleridge and others lectured, he would also
+ lecture, and one of his sisters (Mary, I think) writes a lecture which
+ he reads from a little pulpit which they have erected for him. He went
+ through it with great gravity and decorum. The subject was "The
+ influence of government on the character of a people." After the
+ lecture we had tea, and the girls danced and sang an hour, and at nine
+ came home.
+
+Nothing can give a pleasanter picture of the family, the lively-minded
+children keenly interested in all the subjects and ideas they heard
+freely discussed around them; the elders taking pleasure in encouraging
+the children's first essays of intellect; Mary at fourteen already showing
+her powers of thought and inborn vocation to write, and supplying her
+little brother with ideas. The reverse of the medal appears in the next
+entry, for the genial unconventional household was generally on the verge
+of ruin, and dependent on some expected loan for subsistence in the next
+few months. When once the sought-for assistance came they revelled in
+momentary relief from care.
+
+ _Journal, February 18._--Have gone this evening to Godwin's. They are
+ in trouble. Some financial affair.
+
+It did not weigh long on their spirits.
+
+ _February 24._--Called at Godwin's to leave the newspapers which I
+ borrowed yesterday, and to get that of to-day. _Les goddesses_ (so he
+ habitually designates the three girls) kept me by acclamation to tea
+ with _la printresse_ Hopwood. I agreed to go with the girls to call on
+ her on Friday.
+
+ _February 28._--Was engaged to dine to-day at Godwin's, and to walk
+ with the four dames. After dinner to the Hopwoods. All which was done.
+
+ _March 7._--To Godwin's, where I took tea with the children in their
+ room.
+
+ _March 14._--To Godwin's. He was out. Madame and _les enfans_ upstairs
+ in the bedroom, where they received me, and I drank tea with his
+ _enfans_.... Terribly afraid of vigils to-night, for Jane made my tea,
+ and, I fear, too strong. It is only Fan that I can trust.
+
+ _March 17._--To Godwin's, where took tea with the children, who always
+ have it at 9. Mr. and Madame at 7.
+
+ _March 22._--On to Godwin's; found him at breakfast and joined him.
+ Madame a-bed.
+
+ _Later._--Mr. and Mrs. Godwin would not give me their account, which
+ must be five or six pounds, a very serious sum for them. They say that
+ when I succeed in the world they will call on me for help.
+
+This probably means that the Godwins had lent him money. He was well-nigh
+penniless, and Mrs. Godwin exerted herself to get resources for him, to
+sell one or two books of value which he had, and to get a good price for
+his watch. She knew a good deal of the makeshifts of poverty, and none of
+the family seemed to have grudged time or trouble if they could do a good
+turn to this companion in difficulties. It is a question whether, when
+they talked of his succeeding in the world, they were aware of the
+particular form of success for which he was scheming; in any case they
+seem to have been content to take him as they found him. They were the
+last friends from whom he parted on the eve of sailing for America. His
+entry just before starting is--
+
+ Called and passed an hour with the Godwins. That family does really
+ love me. Fanny, Mary, and Jane, also little William: you must not
+ forget, either, Hannah Hopwood, _la printresse_.
+
+These few months were, very likely, the brightest which Mary ever passed
+at home. Her rapidly growing powers of mind and observation were nourished
+and developed by the stimulating intellectual atmosphere around her; to
+the anxieties and uncertainties which, like birds of ill-omen, hovered
+over the household and were never absent for long together, she was well
+accustomed, besides which she was still too young to be much affected by
+them. She was fond of her sisters, and devoted to her father. Mrs.
+Godwin's temperament can never have been congenial to hers, but occasions
+of collision do not appear to have been frequent, and Fanny, devoted and
+unselfish, only anxious for others to be happy and ready herself to serve
+any of them, was the link between them all. Mary's health was, however,
+not yet satisfactory, and before the summer an opportunity which offered
+itself of change of air was willingly accepted on her behalf by Mr. and
+Mrs. Godwin. In 1809 Godwin had made the acquaintance of Mr. William
+Baxter of Dundee, on the introduction of Mr. David Booth, who afterwards
+became Baxter's son-in-law. Baxter, a man of liberal mind, independence of
+thought and action, and kindly nature, shared to the full the respect
+entertained by most thinking men of that generation for the author of
+_Political Justice_. Godwin, always accessible to sympathetic strangers,
+was at once pleased with this new acquaintance.
+
+"I thank you," he wrote to Booth, "for your introduction of Mr. Baxter. I
+dare swear he is an honest man, and he is no fool." During Baxter's
+several visits to London they became better acquainted. Charles Clairmont
+too, went to Edinburgh in 1811, as a clerk in Constable's printing office,
+where he met and made friends with Baxter's son Robert, who, as well as
+his father, visited the Skinner Street household in London, and through
+whom the intimacy was cemented. In this way it was that Mary was invited
+to come on a long visit to the Baxters at their house, "The Cottage," on
+the banks of the Tay, just outside Dundee, on the road to Broughty Ferry.
+The family included several girls, near Mary's own age, and with true
+Scotch hospitality they pressed her to make one of their family circle for
+an indefinite length of time, until sea-air and sea-bathing should have
+completed the recovery begun the year before at Ramsgate, but which could
+not be maintained in the smoky air and indoor life of London. Accordingly,
+Mary sailed for Dundee on the 8th of June 1812.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+JUNE 1812-MAY 1814
+
+
+ GODWIN TO BAXTER.
+
+ SKINNER STREET, LONDON.
+ _8th June 1812._
+
+ MY DEAR SIR--I have shipped off to you by yesterday's packet, the
+ _Osnaburgh_, Captain Wishart, my only daughter. I attended her, with
+ her two sisters, to the wharf, and remained an hour on board, till the
+ vessel got under way. I cannot help feeling a thousand anxieties in
+ parting with her, for the first time, for so great a distance, and
+ these anxieties were increased by the manner of sending her, on board
+ a ship, with not a single face around her that she had ever seen till
+ that morning. She is four months short of fifteen years of age. I,
+ however, spoke to the captain, using your name; I beside gave her in
+ charge to a lady, by name I believe Mrs. Nelson, of Great St. Helen's,
+ London, who was going to your part of the island in attendance upon an
+ invalid husband. She was surrounded by three daughters when I spoke to
+ her, and she answered me very agreeably. "I shall have none of my own
+ daughters with me, and shall therefore have the more leisure to attend
+ to yours."
+
+ I daresay she will arrive more dead than alive, as she is extremely
+ subject to sea-sickness, and the voyage will, not improbably, last
+ nearly a week. Mr. Cline, the surgeon, however, decides that a
+ sea-voyage would probably be of more service to her than anything.
+
+ I am quite confounded to think what trouble I am bringing on you and
+ your family, and to what a degree I may be said to have taken you in
+ when I took you at your word in your invitation upon so slight an
+ acquaintance. The old proverb says, "He is a wise father who knows his
+ own child," and I feel the justness of the apothegm on the present
+ occasion.
+
+ There never can be a perfect equality between father and child, and if
+ he has other objects and avocations to fill up the greater part of his
+ time, the ordinary resource is for him to proclaim his wishes and
+ commands in a way somewhat sententious and authoritative, and
+ occasionally to utter his censures with seriousness and emphasis.
+
+ It can, therefore, seldom happen that he is the confidant of his
+ child, or that the child does not feel some degree of awe or restraint
+ in intercourse with him. I am not, therefore, a perfect judge of
+ Mary's character. I believe she has nothing of what is commonly called
+ vices, and that she has considerable talent. But I tremble for the
+ trouble I may be bringing on you in this visit. In my last I desired
+ that you would consider the first two or three weeks as a trial, how
+ far you can ensure her, or, more fairly and impartially speaking, how
+ far her habits and conceptions may be such as to put your family very
+ unreasonably out of their way; and I expect from the frankness and
+ ingenuousness of yours of the 29th inst. (which by the way was so
+ ingenuous as to come without a seal) that you will not for a moment
+ hesitate to inform me if such should be the case. When I say all this,
+ I hope you will be aware that I do not desire that she should be
+ treated with extraordinary attention, or that any one of your family
+ should put themselves in the smallest degree out of their way on her
+ account. I am anxious that she should be brought up (in this respect)
+ like a philosopher, even like a cynic. It will add greatly to the
+ strength and worth of her character. I should also observe that she
+ has no love of dissipation, and will be perfectly satisfied with your
+ woods and your mountains. I wish, too, that she should be _excited_
+ to industry. She has occasionally great perseverance, but
+ occasionally, too, she shows great need to be roused.
+
+ You are aware that she comes to the sea-side for the purpose of
+ bathing. I should wish that you would inquire now and then into the
+ regularity of that. She will want also some treatment for her arm, but
+ she has Mr. Cline's directions completely in all these points, and
+ will probably not require a professional man to look after her while
+ she is with you. In all other respects except her arm she has
+ admirable health, has an excellent appetite, and is capable of
+ enduring fatigue. Mrs. Godwin reminds me that I ought to have said
+ something about troubling your daughters to procure a washerwoman. But
+ I trust that, without its being necessary to be thus minute, you will
+ proceed on the basis of our being earnest to give you as little
+ trouble as the nature of the case will allow.--I am, my dear sir, with
+ great regard, yours,
+
+ WILLIAM GODWIN.
+
+At Dundee, with the Baxters, Mary remained for five months. She was
+treated as a sister by the Baxter girls, one of whom, Isabella, afterwards
+the wife of David Booth, became her most intimate friend. An elder sister,
+Miss Christian Baxter, to whom the present writer is indebted for a few
+personal reminiscences of Mary Godwin, only died in 1886, and was probably
+the last survivor of those who remembered Mary in her girlhood. They were
+all fond of their new companion. She was agreeable, vivacious, and
+sparkling; very pretty, with fair hair and complexion, and clear, bright
+white skin. The Baxters were people of education and culture, active
+minded, fond of reading, and alive to external impressions. The young
+people were well and carefully brought up. Mary shared in all their
+studies.
+
+Music they did not care for, but all were fond of drawing and painting,
+and had good lessons. A great deal of time was spent in touring about, in
+long walks and drives through the moors and mountains of Forfarshire. They
+took pains to make Mary acquainted with all the country round, besides
+which it was laid on her as a duty to get as much fresh air as she could,
+and she must greatly have enjoyed the well-ordered yet easy life, the
+complete change of scene and companionship. When, on the 10th of November,
+she arrived again in Skinner Street, she brought Christy Baxter with her,
+for a long return visit to London. If Mary had enjoyed her country outing,
+still more keenly did the homely Scotch girl relish her first taste of
+London life and society. At ninety-two years old the impression of her
+pleasure in it, of her interest in all the notable people with whom she
+came in contact, was as vivid as ever.
+
+The literary and artistic circle which still hung about the Skinner Street
+philosophers was to Christy a new world, of which, except from books, she
+had formed no idea. Books, however, had laid the foundation of keenest
+interest in all she was to see. She was constantly in company with Lamb,
+Hazlitt, Coleridge, Constable, and many more, hitherto known to her only
+by name. Of Charles Lamb especially, of his wit, humour, and quaintness
+she retained the liveliest recollection, and he had evidently a great
+liking for her, referring jokingly to her in his letters as "Doctor
+Christy," and often inviting her, with the Godwin family, to tea, to meet
+her relatives, when up in town, or other friends.
+
+On 11th November, the very day after the two girls arrived in London, a
+meeting occurred of no special interest to Christy at the time, and which
+she would have soon forgotten but for subsequent events. Three guests came
+to dinner at Godwin's. These were Percy Bysshe Shelley with his wife
+Harriet, and her sister, Eliza Westbrook. Christy Baxter well remembered
+this, but her chief recollection was of Harriet, her beauty, her brilliant
+complexion and lovely hair, and the elegance of her purple satin dress. Of
+Shelley, how he looked, what he said or did, what they all thought of him,
+she had observed nothing, except that he was very attentive to Harriet.
+The meeting was of no apparent significance and passed without remark:
+little indeed did any one foresee the drama soon to follow. Plenty of more
+important days, more interesting meetings to Christy, followed during the
+next few months. She shared Mary's room during this time, but her memory,
+in old age, afforded few details of their everyday intercourse. Indeed,
+although they spent so much time together, these two were never very
+intimate. Isabella Baxter, afterwards Mrs. Booth, was Mary's especial
+friend and chief correspondent, and it is much to be regretted that none
+of their girlish letters have been preserved.
+
+The four girls had plenty of liberty, and, what with reading and talk,
+with constantly varied society enjoyed in the intimate unconstrained way
+of those who cannot afford the _appareil_ of convention, with tolerably
+frequent visits at friends' houses and not seldom to the theatre, when
+Godwin, as often happened, got a box sent him, they had plenty of
+amusement too. Godwin's diary keeps a wonderfully minute skeleton account
+of all their doings. Christy enjoyed it all as only a novice can do. All
+her recollections of the family life were agreeable; if anything had left
+an unpleasing impression it had faded away in 1883, when the present
+writer saw her. For Godwin she entertained a warm respect and affection.
+They did not see very much of him, but Christy was a favourite of his, and
+he would sometimes take a quiet pleasure, not unmixed with amusement, in
+listening to their girlish talks and arguments. One such discussion she
+distinctly remembered, on the subject of woman's vocation, as to whether
+it should be purely domestic, or whether they should engage in outside
+interests. Mary and Jane upheld the latter view, Fanny and Christy the
+other.
+
+Mrs. Godwin was kind to Christy, who always saw her best side, and never
+would hear a word said against her. Her deficiencies were not palpable to
+an outsider whom she liked and chose to patronise, nor did Christy appear
+to have felt the inherent untruthfulness in Mrs. Godwin's character,
+although one famous instance of it was recorded by Isabella Baxter, and is
+given at length in Mr. Kegan Paul's _Life of Godwin_.
+
+The various members of the family had more independence of habits than is
+common in English domestic life. This was perhaps a relic of Godwin's old
+idea, that much evil and weariness resulted from the supposed necessity
+that the members of a family should spend all or most of their time in
+each other's company. He always breakfasted alone. Mrs. Godwin did so
+also, and not till mid-day. The young folks had theirs together. Dinner
+was a family meal, but supper seems to have been a movable feast. Jane
+Clairmont, of whose education not much is known beyond the fact that she
+was sometimes at school, was at home for a part if not all of this time.
+She was lively and quick-witted, and probably rather unmanageable. Fanny
+was more reflective, less sanguine, more alive to the prosaic obligations
+of life, and with a keen sense of domestic duty, early developed in her by
+necessity and by her position as the eldest of this somewhat anomalous
+family. Godwin, by nature as undemonstrative as possible, showed more
+affection to Fanny than to any one else. He always turned to her for any
+little service he might require. It seemed, said Christy, as though he
+would fain have guarded against the possibility of her feeling that she,
+an orphan, was less to him than the others. Christy was of opinion that
+Fanny was not made aware of her real position till her quite later years,
+a fact which, if true, goes far towards explaining much of her after life.
+It seems most likely, at any rate, that at this time she was unacquainted
+with the circumstances of her birth. To Godwin she had always seemed like
+his own eldest child, the first he had cared for or who had been fond of
+him, and his dependence on her was not surprising, for no daughter could
+have tended him with more solicitous care; besides which, she was one of
+those people, ready to do anything for everybody, who are always at the
+beck and call of others, and always in request. She filled the home, to
+which Mary, so constantly absent, was just now only a visitor.
+
+It must have been at about this time that Godwin received a letter from an
+unknown correspondent, who expressed much curiosity to know whether his
+children were brought up in accordance with the ideas, by some considered
+so revolutionary and dangerous, of Mary Wollstonecraft, and what the
+result was of reducing her theories to actual practice. Godwin's answer,
+giving his own description of her two daughters, has often been printed,
+but it is worth giving here.
+
+ Your inquiries relate principally to the two daughters of Mary
+ Wollstonecraft. They are neither of them brought up with an exclusive
+ attention to the system of their mother. I lost her in 1797, and in
+ 1801 I married a second time. One among the motives which led me to
+ choose this was the feeling I had in myself of an incompetence for the
+ education of daughters. The present Mrs. Godwin has great strength and
+ activity of mind, but is not exclusively a follower of their mother;
+ and indeed, having formed a family establishment without having a
+ previous provision for the support of a family, neither Mrs. Godwin
+ nor I have leisure enough for reducing novel theories of education to
+ practice, while we both of us honestly endeavour, as far as our
+ opportunities will permit, to improve the minds and characters of the
+ younger branches of the family.
+
+ Of the two persons to whom your inquiries relate, my own daughter is
+ considerably superior in capacity to the one her mother had before.
+ Fanny, the eldest, is of a quiet, modest, unshowy disposition,
+ somewhat given to indolence, which is her greatest fault, but sober,
+ observing, peculiarly clear and distinct in the faculty of memory, and
+ disposed to exercise her own thoughts and follow her own judgment.
+ Mary, my daughter, is the reverse of her in many particulars. She is
+ singularly bold, somewhat imperious, and active of mind. Her desire
+ of knowledge is great, and her perseverance in everything she
+ undertakes almost invincible. My own daughter is, I believe, very
+ pretty. Fanny is by no means handsome, but, in general, prepossessing.
+
+On the 3d of June Mary accompanied Christy back to Dundee, where she
+remained for the next ten months.
+
+No account remains of her life there, but there can be doubt that her
+mental and intellectual powers matured rapidly, and that she learned,
+read, and thought far more than is common even with clever girls of her
+age. The girl who at seventeen is an intellectual companion for a Shelley
+cannot often have needed to be "excited to industry," unless indeed when
+she indulged in day-dreams, as, from her own account given in the preface
+to her novel of _Frankenstein_, we know she sometimes did. Proud of her
+parentage, idolising the memory of her mother, about whom she gathered and
+treasured every scrap of information she could obtain, and of whose
+history and writings she probably now learned more than she had done at
+home, accustomed from her childhood to the daily society of authors and
+literary men, the pen was her earliest toy, and now the attempt at
+original composition was her chosen occupation.
+
+ "As a child," she says, "I scribbled; and my favourite pastime, during
+ the hours given me for recreation, was to 'write stories.' Still I had
+ a dearer pleasure than this, which was the formation of castles in
+ the air,--the indulging in waking dreams,--the following up trains of
+ thought which had for their subject the formation of a succession of
+ imaginary incidents. My dreams were at once more fantastic and
+ agreeable than my writings. In the latter I was a close imitator,
+ rather doing as others had done than putting down the suggestions of
+ my own mind. What I wrote was intended at least for one other eye--my
+ childhood's companion and friend" (probably Isabel Baxter)--"but my
+ dreams were all my own. I accounted for them to nobody; they were my
+ refuge when annoyed, my dearest pleasure when free.
+
+ "I lived principally in the country as a girl, and passed a
+ considerable time in Scotland. I made occasional visits to the more
+ picturesque parts; but my habitual residence was on the blank and
+ dreary northern shores of the Tay, near Dundee. Blank and dreary on
+ retrospection I call them; they were not so to me then. They were the
+ eyry of freedom, and the pleasant region where unheeded I could
+ commune with the creatures of my fancy. I wrote then, but in a most
+ commonplace style. It was beneath the trees of the grounds belonging
+ to our house, or on the bleak sides of the woodless mountains near,
+ that my true compositions, the airy flights of my imagination, were
+ born and fostered. I did not make myself the heroine of my tales. Life
+ appeared to me too commonplace an affair as regarded myself. I could
+ not figure to myself that romantic woes or wonderful events would ever
+ be my lot; but I was not confined to my own identity, and I could
+ people the hours with creations far more interesting to me, at that
+ age, than my own sensations."
+
+From the entry in Godwin's diary, "M. W. G. at supper," for 30th March
+1814, we learn that Mary returned to Skinner Street on that day. She now
+resumed her place in the home circle, a very different person from the
+little Mary who went to Ramsgate in 1811. Although only sixteen and a
+half she was in the bloom of her girlhood, very pretty, very interesting
+in appearance, thoughtful and intelligent beyond her years. She did not
+settle down easily into her old place, and probably only realised
+gradually how much she had altered since she last lived at home. Perhaps,
+too, she saw that home in a new light. After the well-ordered, cheerful
+family life of the Baxters, the somewhat Bohemianism of Skinner Street may
+have seemed a little strange. A household with a philosopher for one of
+its heads, and a fussy, unscrupulous woman of business for the other, may
+have its amusing sides, and we have seen that it had; but it is not
+necessarily comfortable, still less sympathetic to a young and earnest
+nature, just awakening to a consciousness of the realities of life, at
+that transition stage when so much is chaotic and confusing to those who
+are beginning to think and to feel. One may well imagine that all was not
+smooth for poor Mary. Her stepmother's jarring temperament must have
+grated on her more keenly than ever after her long absence. Years and
+anxieties did not improve Mrs. Godwin's temper, nor bring refinement or a
+nice sense of honour to a nature singularly deficient in both. Mary must
+have had to take refuge from annoyance in day-dreams pretty frequently,
+and this was a sure and constant source of irritation to her stepmother.
+Jane Clairmont, wilful, rebellious, witty, and probably a good deal
+spoilt, whose subsequent conduct shows that she was utterly unamenable to
+her mother's authority, was, at first, away at school. Fanny was the good
+angel of the house, but her persistent defence of every one attacked, and
+her determination to make the best of things and people as they were,
+seemed almost irritating to those who were smarting under daily and hourly
+little grievances. Compliance often looks like cowardice to the young and
+bold. Nor did Mary get any help from her father. A little affection and
+kindly sympathy from him would have gone a long way with her, for she
+loved him dearly. Long afterwards she alluded to his "calm, silent
+disapproval" when displeased, and to the bitter remorse and unhappiness it
+would cause her, although unspoken, and only instinctively felt by her.
+All her stepmother's scoldings would have failed to produce a like effect.
+But Godwin, though sincerely solicitous about the children's welfare, was
+self-concentrated, and had little real insight into character. Besides, he
+was, as usual, hampered about money matters; and when constant anxiety as
+to where to get his next loan was added to the preoccupation of
+authorship, and the unavoidable distraction of such details as reached him
+of the publishing business, he had little thought or attention to bestow
+on the daughter who had arrived at so critical a time of her mental and
+moral history. He welcomed her home, but then took little more notice of
+her. If she and her stepmother disagreed, Godwin, when forced to take part
+in the matter, probably found it the best policy to side with his wife.
+Yet the situation would have been worth his attention. Here was this girl,
+Mary Wollstonecraft's daughter, who had left home a clever, unformed
+child, who had returned to it a maiden in her bloom, pretty and
+attractive, with ardour, ability, and ambition, with conscious powers that
+had not found their right use, with unsatisfied affections seeking an
+object. True, she might in time have found threads to gather up in her own
+home. But she was young, impatient, and unhappy. Mrs. Godwin was
+repellent, uncongenial, and very jealous of her. All that a daughter could
+do for Godwin seemed to be done by Fanny. When Jane came home it was on
+her that Mary was chiefly thrown for society. Her lively spirits and quick
+wit made her excellent company, and she was ready enough to make the most
+of grievances, and to head any revolt. Fanny, far more deserving of
+sisterly sympathy and far more in need of it, seemed to belong to the
+opposite camp.
+
+Time, kindly judicious guidance, and sustained effort on her own part
+might have cleared Mary's path and made things straight for her. Her
+heart was as sound and true as her intellect, but this critical time was
+rendered more dangerous, it may well be, by her knowledge of the existence
+of many theories on vexed subjects, making her feel keenly her own
+inexperience and want of a guide.
+
+The guide she found was one who himself had wandered till now over many
+perplexing paths, led by the light of a restless, sleepless genius, and an
+inextinguishable yearning to find, to know, to do, to be the best.
+
+Godwin's diary records on the 5th of May "Shelley calls." As far as can be
+known this was the first occasion since the dinner of the 11th of November
+1812, when Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin saw Percy Bysshe Shelley.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+APRIL-JUNE 1814
+
+
+Although she had seen Shelley only once, Mary had heard a good deal about
+him. More than two years before this time Godwin had received a letter
+from a stranger, a very young man, desirous of becoming acquainted with
+him. The writer had, it said, been under the impression that the great
+philosopher, the object of his reverential admiration, whom he now
+addressed, was one of the mighty dead. That such was not the case he had
+now learned for the first time, and the most ardent wish of his heart was
+to be admitted to the privilege of intercourse with one whom he regarded
+as "a luminary too bright for the darkness which surrounds him." "If," he
+concluded, "desire for universal happiness has any claim upon your
+preference, that desire I can exhibit."
+
+Such neophytes never knelt to Godwin in vain. He did not, at first, feel
+specially interested in this one; still, the kindly tone of his reply led
+to further correspondence, in the course of which the new disciple, Mr.
+Percy Bysshe Shelley, gave Godwin a sketch of the events of his past life.
+Godwin learned that his correspondent was the son of a country squire in
+Sussex, was heir to a baronetcy and a considerable fortune; that he had
+been expelled from Oxford for publishing, and refusing to deny the
+authorship of, a pamphlet called "The Necessity of Atheism"; that his
+father, having no sympathy either with his literary tastes or speculative
+views, and still less with his method of putting the latter in practice,
+had required from him certain concessions and promises which he had
+declined to make, and so had been cast off by his family, his father
+refusing to communicate with him, except through a solicitor, allowing him
+a sum barely enough for his own wants, and that professedly to "prevent
+his cheating strangers." That, undeterred by all this, he had, at
+nineteen, married a woman three years younger, whose "pursuits, hopes,
+fears, and sorrows" had been like his own; and that he hoped to devote his
+life and powers to the regeneration of mankind and society.
+
+There was something remarkable about these letters, something that bespoke
+a mind, ill-balanced it might be, but yet of no common order. Whatever the
+worth of the writer's opinions, there could be no doubt that he had the
+gift of eloquence in their expression. Half interested and half amused,
+with a vague perception of Shelley's genius, and a certain instinctive
+deference of which he could not divest himself towards the heir to £6000 a
+year, Godwin continued the correspondence with a frequency and an
+unreserve most flattering to the younger man.
+
+Not long after this, the disciple announced that he had gone off, with his
+wife and her sister, to Ireland, for the avowed purpose of forwarding the
+Catholic Emancipation and the Repeal of the Union. His scheme was "the
+organisation of a society whose institution shall serve as a bond to its
+members for the purposes of virtue, happiness, liberty, and wisdom, by the
+means of intellectual opposition to grievances." He published and
+distributed an "Address to the Irish People," setting before them their
+grievances, their rights, and their duties.
+
+This object Godwin regarded as an utter mistake, its practical furtherance
+as extremely perilous. Dreading the contagion of excitement, its tendency
+to prevent sober judgment and promote precipitate action, he condemned
+associations of men for any public purpose whatever. His calm temperament
+would fain have dissevered impulse and action altogether as cause and
+effect, and he had a shrinking, constitutional as well as philosophic,
+from any tendency to "strike while the iron is hot."
+
+"The thing most to be desired," he wrote, "is to keep up the intellectual,
+and in some sense the solitary fermentation, and to procrastinate the
+contact and consequent action." "Shelley! you are preparing a scene of
+blood," was his solemn warning.
+
+Nothing could have been further from Shelley's thoughts than such a scene.
+Surprised and disappointed, he ingenuously confessed to Godwin that his
+association scheme had grown out of notions of political justice, first
+generated by Godwin's own book on that subject; and the mentor found
+himself in the position of an involuntary illustration of his own theory,
+expressed in the _Enquirer_ (Essay XX), "It is by no means impossible that
+the books most pernicious in their effects that ever were produced, were
+written with intentions uncommonly elevated and pure."
+
+Shelley, animated by an ardent enthusiasm of humanity, looked to
+association as likely to spread a contagion indeed, but a contagion of
+good. The revolution he preached was a Millennium.
+
+ If you are convinced of the truth of your cause, trust wholly to its
+ truth; if you are not convinced, give it up. In no case employ
+ violence; the way to liberty and happiness is never to transgress the
+ rules of virtue and justice.
+
+ Before anything can be done with effect, habits of sobriety,
+ regularity, and thought must be entered into and firmly resolved on.
+
+ I will repeat, that virtue and wisdom are necessary to true happiness
+ and liberty.
+
+ Before the restraints of government are lessened, it is fit that we
+ should lessen the necessity for them. Before government is done away
+ with, we must reform ourselves. It is this work which I would
+ earnestly recommend to you. O Irishmen, reform yourselves.[1]
+
+Whatever evil results Godwin may have apprehended from Shelley's
+proceedings, these sentiments taken in the abstract could not but enlist
+his sympathies to some extent on behalf of the deluded young optimist, nor
+did he keep the fact a secret. Shelley's letters, as well as the Irish
+pamphlet, were eagerly read and discussed by all the young philosophers of
+Skinner Street.
+
+"You cannot imagine," Godwin wrote to him, "how much all the females of my
+family--Mrs. Godwin and three daughters--are interested in your letters
+and your history."
+
+Publicly propounded, however, Shelley's sentiments proved insufficiently
+attractive to those to whom they were addressed. At a public meeting where
+he had ventured to enjoin on Catholics a tolerance so universal as to
+embrace not only Jews, Turks, and Infidels, but Protestants also, he
+narrowly escaped being mobbed. It was borne in upon him before long that
+the possibility, under existing conditions, of realising his scheme for
+associations of peace and virtue, was doubtful and distant. He abandoned
+his intention and left Ireland, professedly in submission to Godwin, but
+in fact convinced by what he had seen. Godwin was delighted.
+
+"Now I can call you a friend," he wrote, and the good understanding of the
+two was cemented.
+
+After repeated but fruitless invitations from the Shelleys to the whole
+Godwin party to come and stay with them in Wales, Godwin, early in the
+autumn of this year (1812) actually made an expedition to Lynmouth, where
+his unknown friends were staying, in the hope of effecting a personal
+acquaintance, but his object was frustrated, the Shelleys having left the
+place just before he arrived.
+
+They first met in London, in the month of October, and frequent, almost
+daily intercourse took place between the families. On the last day of
+their stay in town the Shelleys, with Eliza Westbrook, dined in Skinner
+Street. Mary Godwin, who had been for five months past in Scotland, had
+returned, as we know, with Christy Baxter the day before, and was, no
+doubt, very glad not to miss this opportunity of seeing the interesting
+young reformer of whom she had heard so much. His wife he had always
+spoken of as one who shared his tastes and opinions. No doubt they all
+thought her a fortunate woman, and Mary in after years would well recall
+her smiling face, and pink and white complexion, and her purple satin
+gown.
+
+During the year and a half that had elapsed since that time Mary had
+been chiefly away, and had heard little if anything of Shelley. In the
+spring of 1814, however, he came up to town to see her father on
+business,--business in which Godwin was deeply and solely concerned, about
+which he was desperately anxious, and in which Mary knew that Shelley was
+doing all in his power to help him. These matters had been going on for
+some time, when, on the 5th of May, he came to Skinner Street, and Mary
+and he renewed acquaintance. Both had altered since the last time they
+met. Mary, from a child had grown into a young, attractive, and
+interesting girl. Hers was not the sweet sensuous loveliness of her
+mother, but with her well-shaped head and intellectual brow, her fine fair
+hair and liquid hazel eyes, and a skin and complexion of singular
+whiteness and purity, she possessed beauty of a rare and refined type. She
+was somewhat below the medium height; very graceful, with drooping
+shoulders and swan-like throat. The serene eloquent eyes contrasted with a
+small mouth, indicative of a certain reserve of temperament, which, in
+fact, always distinguished her, and beneath which those who did not know
+her might not have suspected her vigour of intellect and fearlessness of
+thought.
+
+Shelley, too, was changed; why, was in his case not so evident. Mary
+would have heard how, just before her return home, he had been remarried
+to his wife; Godwin, the opponent of matrimony, having, mysteriously
+enough, been instrumental in procuring the licence for this superfluous
+ceremony; superfluous, as the parties had been quite legally married in
+Scotland three years before. His wife was not now with him in London. He
+was alone, and appeared saddened in aspect, ailing in health, unsettled
+and anxious in mind. It was impossible that Mary should not observe him
+with interest. She saw that, although so young a man, he not only could
+hold his own in discussion of literary, philosophical, or political
+questions with the wisest heads and deepest thinkers of his generation,
+but could throw new light on every subject he touched. His glowing
+imagination transfigured and idealised what it dwelt on, while his magical
+words seemed to recreate whatever he described. She learned that he was a
+poet. His conversation would call up her old day-dreams again, though,
+before it, they paled and faded like morning mists before the sun. She
+saw, too, that his disposition was most amiable, his manners gentle, his
+conversation absolutely free from suspicion of coarseness, and that he was
+a disinterested and devoted friend.
+
+Before long she must have become conscious that he took pleasure in
+talking with her. She could not but see that, while his melancholy and
+disquiet grew upon him every day, she possessed the power of banishing it
+for the time. Her presence illumined him; life and hopeful enthusiasm
+would flash anew from him if she was by. This intercourse stimulated all
+her intellectual powers, and its first effect was to increase her already
+keen desire of knowledge. To keep pace with the electric mind of this
+companion required some effort on her part, and she applied herself with
+renewed zeal to her studies. Nothing irritated her stepmother so much as
+to see her deep in a book, and in order to escape from Mrs. Godwin's petty
+persecution Mary used, whenever she could, to transport herself and her
+occupations to Old St. Pancras Churchyard, where she had been in the habit
+of coming to visit her mother's grave. There, under the shade of a willow
+tree, she would sit, book in hand, and sometimes read, but not always. The
+day-dreams of Dundee would now and again return upon her. How long she
+seemed to have lived since that time! Life no longer seemed "so
+commonplace an affair," nor yet her own part in it so infinitesimal if
+Shelley thought her conversation and companionship worth the having.
+
+Before very long he had found out the secret of her retreat, and used to
+meet her there. He revered the memory of Mary Wollstonecraft, and her
+grave was to him a consecrated shrine of which her daughter was the
+priestess.
+
+By June they had become intimate friends, though Mary was still ignorant
+of the secret of his life.
+
+On the 8th of June occurred the meeting described by Hogg in his _Life of
+Shelley_. The two friends were walking through Skinner Street when Shelley
+said to Hogg, "I must speak with Godwin; come in, I will not detain you
+long." Hogg continues--
+
+ I followed him through the shop, which was the only entrance, and
+ upstairs we entered a room on the first floor; it was shaped like a
+ quadrant. In the arc were windows; in one radius a fireplace, and in
+ the other a door, and shelves with many old books. William Godwin was
+ not at home. Bysshe strode about the room, causing the crazy floor of
+ the ill-built, unowned dwelling-house to shake and tremble under his
+ impatient footsteps. He appeared to be displeased at not finding the
+ fountain of Political Justice.
+
+ "Where is Godwin?" he asked me several times, as if I knew. I did not
+ know, and, to say the truth, I did not care. He continued his uneasy
+ promenade; and I stood reading the names of old English authors on the
+ backs of the venerable volumes, when the door was partially and softly
+ opened. A thrilling voice called "Shelley!" A thrilling voice answered
+ "Mary!" and he darted out of the room, like an arrow from the bow of
+ the far-shooting king. A very young female, fair and fair-haired, pale
+ indeed, and with a piercing look, wearing a frock of tartan, an
+ unusual dress in London at that time, had called him out of the room.
+ He was absent a very short time, a minute or two, and then returned.
+
+ "Godwin is out, there is no use in waiting." So we continued our walk
+ along Holborn.
+
+ "Who was that, pray?" I asked, "a daughter?"
+
+ "Yes."
+
+ "A daughter of William Godwin?"
+
+ "The daughter of Godwin and Mary."
+
+Hogg asked no more questions, but something in this momentary interview
+and in the look of the fair-haired girl left an impression on his mind
+which he did not at once forget.
+
+Godwin was all this time seeking and encouraging Shelley's visits. He was
+in feverish distress for money, bankruptcy was hanging over his head; and
+Shelley was exerting all his energies and influence to raise a large sum,
+it is said as much as £3000, for him. It is a melancholy fact that the
+philosopher had got to regard those who, in the thirsty search for truth
+and knowledge, had attached themselves to him, in the secondary light of
+possible sources of income, and, when in difficulties, he came upon them
+one after another for loans or advances of money, which, at first begged
+for as a kindness, came to be claimed by him almost as a right.
+
+Shelley's own affairs were in a most unsatisfactory state. £200 a year
+from his father, and as much from his wife's father was all he had to
+depend upon, and his unsettled life and frequent journeys, generous
+disposition and careless ways, made fearful inroads on his narrow income,
+notwithstanding the fact that he lived with Spartan frugality as far as
+his own habits were concerned. Little as he had, he never knew how little
+it was nor how far it would go, and, while he strained every nerve to save
+from ruin one whom he still considered his intellectual father, he was
+himself sorely hampered by want of money.
+
+Visits to lawyers by Godwin, Shelley, or both, were of increasingly
+frequent occurrence during May; in June we learn of as many as two or
+three in a day. While this was going on, Shelley, the forlorn hope of
+Skinner Street, could not be lost sight of. If he seemed to find pleasure
+in Mary's society, this probably flattered Mary's father, who, though
+really knowing little of his child, was undoubtedly proud of her, her
+beauty, and her promise of remarkable talent. Like other fathers, he
+thought of her as a child, and, had there been any occasion for suspicion
+or remark, the fact of Shelley's being a married man with a lovely wife,
+would take away any excuse for dwelling on it. The Shelleys had not been
+favourites with Mrs. Godwin, who, the year before, had offended or chosen
+to quarrel with Harriet Shelley. The respective husbands had succeeded in
+smoothing over the difficulty, which was subsequently ignored. No love was
+lost, however, between the Shelleys and the head of the firm of M. J.
+Godwin & Co., who, however, was not now likely to do or say anything
+calculated to drive from the house one who, for the present, was its sole
+chance of existence.
+
+From the 20th of June until the end of the month Shelley was at Skinner
+Street every day, often to dinner.
+
+By that time he and Mary had realised, only too well, the depth of their
+mutual feeling, and on some one day, what day we do not know, they owned
+it to each other. His history was poured out to her, not as it appears in
+the cold impartial light of after years perhaps, but as he felt it then,
+aching and smarting from life's fresh wounds and stings. She heard of his
+difficulties, his rebuffs, his mistakes in action, his disappointments in
+friendship, his fruitless sacrifices for what he held to be the truth; his
+hopes and his hopelessness, his isolation of soul and his craving for
+sympathy. She guessed, for he was still silent on this point, that he
+found it not in his home. She faced her feelings then; they were past
+mistake. But it never occurred to her mind that there was any possible
+future but a life's separation to souls so situated. She could be his
+friend, never anything more to him.
+
+As a memento of that interview Shelley gave or sent her a copy of _Queen
+Mab_, his first published poem. This book (still in existence) has,
+written in pencil inside the cover, the name "Mary Wollstonecraft
+Godwin," and, on the inner flyleaf, the words, "You see, Mary, I have not
+forgotten you." Under the printed dedication to his wife is the enigmatic
+but suggestive remark, carefully written in ink, "Count Slobendorf was
+about to marry a woman, who, attracted solely by his fortune, proved her
+selfishness by deserting him in prison."[2] On the flyleaves at the end
+Mary wrote in July 1814--
+
+ This book is sacred to me, and as no other creature shall ever look
+ into it, I may write what I please. Yet what shall I write? That I
+ love the author beyond all powers of expression, and that I am parted
+ from him. Dearest and only love, by that love we have promised to each
+ other, although I may not be yours, I can never be another's. But I am
+ thine, exclusively thine.
+
+ By the kiss of love, the glance none saw beside,
+ The smile none else might understand,
+ The whispered thought of hearts allied,
+ The pressure of the thrilling hand.[3]
+
+ I have pledged myself to thee, and sacred is the gift. I remember your
+ words. "You are now, Mary, going to mix with many, and for a moment I
+ shall depart, but in the solitude of your chamber I shall be with
+ you." Yes, you are ever with me, sacred vision.
+
+ But ah! I feel in this was given
+ A blessing never meant for me,
+ Thou art too like a dream from heaven
+ For earthly love to merit thee.[4]
+
+With this mutual consciousness, yet obliged inevitably to meet, thrown
+constantly in each other's way, Mary obliged too to look on Shelley as her
+father's benefactor and support, their situation was a miserable one. As
+for Shelley, when he had once broken silence he passed rapidly from tender
+affection to the most passionate love. His heart and brain were alike on
+fire, for at the root of his deep depression and unsettlement lay the
+fact, known as yet only to himself, of complete estrangement between
+himself and his wife.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+JUNE-AUGUST 1814
+
+
+Perhaps of all the objects of Shelley's devotion up to this time, Harriet,
+his wife, was the only one with whom he had never, in the ideal sense,
+been in love. Possibly this was one reason that against her alone he never
+had the violent revulsion, almost amounting to loathing, which was the
+usual reaction after his other passionate illusions. He had eloped with
+her when they were but boy and girl because he found her ready to elope
+with him, and because he was persuaded that she was a victim of tyranny
+and oppression, which, to this modern knight-errant, was tantamount to an
+obligation laid on him to rescue her. Having eloped with her, he had
+married her, for her sake, and from a sense of chivalry, only with a
+quaint sort of apology to his friend Hogg for this early departure from
+his own principles and those of the philosophic writers who had helped to
+mould his views. His affection for his wife had steadily increased after
+their marriage; she was fond of him and satisfied with her lot, and had
+made things very easy for him. She could not give him anything very deep
+in the way of love, but in return she was not very exacting; accommodating
+herself with good humour to all his vagaries, his changes of mood and
+plan, and his romantic friendships. Even the presence of her elder sister
+Eliza, who at an early period established herself as a member of their
+household, did not destroy although it did not add to their peace. It was
+during their stay in Scotland, in 1813, that the first shadow arose
+between them, and from this time Harriet seems to have changed. She became
+cold and indifferent. During the next winter, when they lived at
+Bracknell, she grew frivolous and extravagant, even yielding to habits of
+self-indulgence most repugnant to one so abstemious as Shelley. He, on his
+part, was more and more drawn away from the home which had become
+uncongenial by the fascinating society of his brilliant, speculative
+friend, Mrs. Boinville (the white-haired "Maimuna"), her daughter and
+sister. They were kind and encouraging to him, and their whole circle was
+cheerful, genial, and intellectual. This intimacy tended to widen the
+breach between husband and wife, while supplying none of the moral help
+which might have braced Shelley to meet his difficulty. His letters and
+the stanza addressed to Mrs. Boinville[5] show the profound depression
+under which he laboured in April and May. His pathetic poem to Harriet,
+written in May, expresses only too plainly what he suffered from her
+alienation, and also his keen consciousness of the moral dangers that
+threatened him from the loosening of old ties, if left to himself
+unsupported by sympathy at home. But such feeling as Harriet had was at
+this time quite blunted. She had treated his unsettled depression and
+gloomy abstraction as coldness and sullen discontent, and met them with
+careless unconcern. Always a puppet in the hands of some one stronger than
+herself, she was encouraged by her elder sister, "the ever-present Eliza,"
+the object of Shelley's abhorrence, to meet any want of attention on his
+part by this attitude of indifference; presumably on the assumption that
+men do not care for what they can have cheaply, and that the best way for
+a wife to keep a husband's affection is to show herself independent of it.
+Good-humoured and shallow, easy-going and fond of amusement, she probably
+yielded to these counsels without difficulty. She was much admired by
+other men, and accepted their admiration willingly. From evidence which
+came to light not many years later, it appears Shelley thought he had
+reason to believe she had been misled by one of these admirers, and that
+he became aware of this in June 1814. No word of it was breathed by him at
+the time, and the painful story might never have been divulged but for
+subsequent events which dragged into publicity circumstances which he
+intended should be buried in oblivion. This is not a life of Shelley, and
+the evidence of all this matter,--such evidence, that is, as has escaped
+destruction,--must be looked for elsewhere. In the lawsuit which he
+undertook after Harriet's death to obtain possession of his children by
+her, he was content to state, "I was united to a woman of whom delicacy
+forbids me to say more than that we were disunited by incurable
+dissensions."
+
+That time only confirmed his conviction of 1814 is clearly proved by his
+letter, written six years afterwards, to Southey, who had accused him of
+guilt towards both his first and second wives.
+
+ I take God to witness, if such a Being is now regarding both you and
+ me, and I pledge myself if we meet, as perhaps you expect, before Him
+ after death, to repeat the same in His presence, that you accuse me
+ wrongfully. I am innocent of ill, either done or intended, the
+ consequences you allude to flowed in no respect from me. If you were
+ my friend, I could tell you a history that would make you open your
+ eyes, but I shall certainly never make the public my familiar
+ confidant.
+
+It is quite certain that in June 1814 Shelley, who had for months found
+his wife heartless, became convinced that she had also been faithless. A
+breach of the marriage vow was not, now or at any other time, regarded by
+him in the light of a heinous or unpardonable sin. Like his master Godwin,
+who held that right and wrong in these matters could only be decided by
+the circumstances of each individual case, he considered the vow itself to
+be the mistake, superfluous where it was based on mutual affection,
+tyrannic or false where it was not. Nor did he recognise two different
+laws, for men and for women, in these respects. His subsequent relations
+with Harriet show that, deeply as she had wounded him, he did not consider
+her criminally in fault. Could she indeed be blamed for applying in her
+own way the dangerous principles of which she had heard so much? But she
+had ceased to care for him, and the death of mutual love argued, to his
+mind, the loosening of the tie. He had been faithful to her; her
+faithlessness cut away the ground from under his feet and left him
+defenceless against a new affection.
+
+No wonder that when his friend Peacock went, by his request, to call on
+him in London, he
+
+ showed in his looks, in his gestures, in his speech, the state of a
+ mind, "suffering like a little kingdom, the nature of an
+ insurrection." His eyes were bloodshot, his hair and dress disordered.
+ He caught up a bottle of laudanum and said, "I never part from this!"
+ He added, "I am always repeating to myself your lines from Sophocles--
+
+ Man's happiest lot is not to be,
+ And when we tread life's thorny steep
+ Most blest are they, who, earliest free,
+ Descend to death's eternal sleep."
+
+Harriet had been absent for some time at Bath, but now, growing anxious at
+the rarity of news from her husband, she wrote up to Hookham, his
+publisher, entreating to know what had become of him, and where he was.
+
+Godwin, who called at Hookham's the next day, heard of this letter, and
+began at last to awaken to the consciousness that something he did not
+understand was going on between Shelley and his daughter. It is strange
+that Mrs. Godwin, a shrewd and suspicious woman, should not before now
+have called his attention to the fact. His diary for 8th July records a
+"Talk with Mary." What passed has not transpired. Probably Godwin
+"restricted himself to uttering his censures with seriousness and
+emphasis,"[6] probably Mary said little of any sort.
+
+On the 14th of July Harriet Shelley came up to town, summoned thither by a
+letter from her husband. He informed her of his determination to
+separate, and of his intention to take immediate measures securing her a
+sufficient income for her support. He fully expected that Harriet would
+willingly concur in this arrangement, but she did no such thing; perhaps
+she did not believe he would carry it out. She never at any time took life
+seriously; she looked on the rupture between herself and Shelley as
+trivial and temporary, and had no wish to make it otherwise. Godwin called
+on her two or three times; he was aware of the estrangement, and probably
+hoped by argument and discussion to restore matters to their old footing
+and bring peace and equanimity to his own household. But although Harriet
+was quite aware of Shelley's love for Godwin's daughter, and knew, too,
+that deeds were being prepared to assure her own separate maintenance, she
+said nothing to Godwin, nor did her family give him any hint. The
+impending elopement, with all its consequences to Godwin, were within her
+power to prevent, but she allowed matters to take their course. Godwin,
+evidently very uncomfortable, chronicles a "Talk with P. B. S.," and, on
+22d July, a "Talk with Jane." But circumstances moved faster than he
+expected, and these many talks and discussions and complicated moves and
+counter-moves only made the position intolerable, and precipitated the
+final crisis. Towards the close of that month Shelley's confession was
+wrung from him: he told Mary the whole truth, and how, though legally
+bound, he held himself morally free to offer himself to her if she would
+be his.
+
+To her, passionately devoted to the one man who was and was ever to remain
+the sun and centre of her existence, the thought of a wife indifferent to
+him, hard to him, false to him, was sacrilege; it was torture. She had not
+been brought up to look on marriage as a divine institution; she had
+probably never even heard it discussed but on grounds of expediency.
+Harriet was his legal wife, so he could not marry Mary, but what of that,
+after all? if there was a sacrifice in her power to make for him, was not
+that the greatest joy, the greatest honour that life could have in store
+for her?
+
+That her father would openly condemn her she knew, for she must have known
+that Godwin's practice did not move on the same lofty plane as his
+principles. Was he not at that moment making himself debtor to a man whose
+integrity he doubted? Had he not, in twice marrying, taken care to
+proclaim, both to his friends and the public, that he did so _in spite_ of
+his opinions, which remained unchanged and unretracted, until some
+inconvenient application of them forced from him an expression of
+disapproval?
+
+Her mother too, had she not held that ties which were dead should be
+buried? and though not, like Godwin, condemning marriage as an
+institution, had she not been twice induced to form a connection which in
+one instance never was, in the other was not for some time consecrated by
+law? Who was Mary herself, that she should withstand one whom she felt to
+be the best as well as the cleverest man she had ever known? To talent she
+had been accustomed all her life, but here she saw something different,
+and what of all things calls forth most ardent response from a young and
+pure-minded girl, _a genius for goodness_; an aspiration and devotion such
+as she had dreamed of but never known, with powers which seemed to her
+absolutely inspired. She loved him, and she appreciated him,--as time
+abundantly showed,--rightly. She conceived that she wronged by her action
+no one but herself, and she did not hesitate. She pledged her heart and
+hand to Shelley for life, and she did not disappoint him, nor he her.
+
+To the end of their lives, tried as they were to be by every kind of
+trouble, neither one nor the other ever repented the step they now took,
+nor modified their opinion of the grounds on which they took it. How
+Shelley regarded it in after years we have already seen. Mary, writing
+during her married life, when her judgment had been matured and her
+youthful buoyancy of spirit only too well sobered by stern and bitter
+experience, can find no harder name for it than "an imprudence." Many
+years after, in 1825, alluding to Shelley's separation from Harriet, she
+remarks, "His justification is, to me, obvious." And at a later date
+still, when she had been seventeen years a widow, she wrote in the preface
+to her edition of Shelley's _Poems_--
+
+ I abstain from any remark on the occurrences of his private life,
+ except inasmuch as the passions they engendered inspired his poetry.
+ This is not the time to relate the truth, and I should reject any
+ colouring of the truth. No account of these events has ever been given
+ at all approaching reality in their details, either as regards himself
+ or others; nor shall I further allude to them than to remark that the
+ errors of action committed by a man as noble and generous as Shelley,
+ may, as far as he only is concerned, be fearlessly avowed by those who
+ loved him, in the firm conviction that, were they judged impartially,
+ his character would stand in fairer and brighter light than that of
+ any contemporary.
+
+But they never "made the public their familiar confidant." They screened
+the erring as far as it was in their power to do so, although their
+reticence cost them dear, for it lent a colouring of probability to the
+slanders and misconstruction of all kinds which it was their constant fate
+to endure for others' sake, which pursued them to their lives' end, and
+beyond it.
+
+Life, which is to no one what he expects, had many clouds for them. Mary's
+life reached its zenith too suddenly, and with happiness came care in
+undue proportion. The future of intellectual expansion and creation which
+might have been hers was not to be fully realised, but perfections of
+character she might never have attained developed themselves as her nature
+was mellowed and moulded by time and by suffering.
+
+Shelley's rupture with his first wife marks the end of his boyhood. Up to
+that time, thanks to his poetic temperament, his were the strong and
+simple, but passing impulses and feelings of a child. "A being of large
+discourse" he assuredly was, but not as yet "looking before and after."
+Now he was to acquire the doubtful blessing of that faculty. Like Undine
+when she became endued with a soul, he gained an immeasurable good, while
+he lost a something that never returned.
+
+Early in the morning of 28th July 1814 Mary Godwin secretly left her
+father's house, accompanied by Jane Clairmont, and they started with
+Shelley in a post-chaise for Dover.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+AUGUST 1814-JANUARY 1816
+
+
+From the day of their departure a joint journal was kept by Shelley and
+Mary, which tells their subsequent adventures and vicissitudes with the
+utmost candour and _naïveté_. A great deal of the earlier portion is
+written by Shelley, but after a time Mary becomes the principal diarist,
+and the latter part is almost entirely hers. Its account of their first
+wanderings in France and Switzerland was put into narrative form by her
+two or three years later, and published under the title _Journal of a Six
+Weeks' Tour_. But the transparent simplicity of the journal is invaluable,
+and carries with it an absolute conviction which no studied account can
+emulate or improve upon. Considerable portions are, therefore, given in
+their entirety.
+
+That 28th of July was a hotter day than had been known in England for many
+years. Between the sultry heat and exhaustion from the excitement and
+conflicting emotions of the last days, poor Mary was completely overcome.
+
+ "The heat made her faint," wrote Shelley, "it was necessary at every
+ stage that she should repose. I was divided between anxiety for her
+ health and terror lest our pursuers should arrive. I reproached myself
+ with not allowing her sufficient time to rest, with conceiving any
+ evil so great that the slightest portion of her comfort might be
+ sacrificed to avoid it.
+
+ "At Dartford we took four horses, that we might outstrip pursuit. We
+ arrived at Dover before four o'clock."
+
+ "On arriving at Dover," writes Mary,[7] "I was refreshed by a
+ sea-bath. As we very much wished to cross the Channel with all
+ possible speed, we would not wait for the packet of the following day
+ (it being then about four in the afternoon), but hiring a small boat,
+ resolved to make the passage the same evening, the seamen promising us
+ a voyage of two hours.
+
+ "The evening was most beautiful; there was but little wind, and the
+ sails flapped in the flagging breeze; the moon rose, and night came
+ on, and with the night a slow, heavy swell and a fresh breeze, which
+ soon produced a sea so violent as to toss the boat very much. I was
+ dreadfully sea-sick, and, as is usually my custom when thus affected,
+ I slept during the greater part of the night, awaking only from time
+ to time to ask where we were, and to receive the dismal answer each
+ time, 'Not quite halfway.'
+
+ "The wind was violent and contrary; if we could not reach Calais the
+ sailors proposed making for Boulogne. They promised only two hours'
+ sail from shore, yet hour after hour passed, and we were still far
+ distant, when the moon sunk in the red and stormy horizon and the
+ fast-flashing lightning became pale in the breaking day.
+
+ "We were proceeding slowly against the wind, when suddenly a thunder
+ squall struck the sail, and the waves rushed into the boat: even the
+ sailors acknowledged that our situation was perilous; but they
+ succeeded in reefing the sail; the wind was now changed, and we drove
+ before the gale directly to Calais."
+
+ _Journal_ (Shelley).--Mary did not know our danger; she was resting
+ between my knees, that were unable to support her; she did not speak
+ or look, but I felt that she was there. I had time in that moment to
+ reflect, and even to reason upon death; it was rather a thing of
+ discomfort and disappointment than horror to me. We should never be
+ separated, but in death we might not know and feel our union as now. I
+ hope, but my hopes are not unmixed with fear for what may befall this
+ inestimable spirit when we appear to die.
+
+ The morning broke, the lightning died away, the violence of the wind
+ abated. We arrived at Calais, whilst Mary still slept; we drove upon
+ the sands. Suddenly the broad sun rose over France.
+
+Godwin's diary for 28th July runs,
+
+ "_Five in the morning._ M. J. for Dover."
+
+Mrs. Godwin, in fact, started in pursuit of the fugitives as soon as they
+were missed. Neither Shelley nor Mary were the objects of her anxiety, but
+her own daughter. Jane Clairmont, who cared no more for her mother than
+she did for any one else, had guessed Mary's secret or insinuated herself
+into her confidence some time before the final _dénouement_ of the
+love-affair. Wild and wayward, ready for anything in the shape of a
+romantic adventure, and longing for freedom from the restraints of home,
+she had sympathised with, and perhaps helped Shelley and Mary. She was in
+no wise anxious to be left to mope alone, nor to be exposed to
+cross-questioning she could ill have met. She claimed to escape with them
+as a return for her good offices, and whatever Mary may have thought or
+wished, Shelley was not one to leave her behind "in slavery." Mrs. Godwin
+arrived at Calais by the very packet the fugitives had refused to wait
+for.
+
+ _Journal_ (Shelley).--In the evening Captain Davidson came and told us
+ that a fat lady had arrived who said I had run away with her daughter;
+ it was Mrs. Godwin. Jane spent the night with her mother.
+
+ _July 30._--Jane informs us that she is unable to withstand the pathos
+ of Mrs. Godwin's appeal. She appealed to the Municipality of Paris, to
+ past slavery and to future freedom. I counselled her to take at least
+ half an hour for consideration. She returned to Mrs. Godwin and
+ informed her that she resolved to continue with us.
+
+ Mrs. Godwin departed without answering a word.
+
+It is difficult to understand how this mother had so little authority over
+her own girl of sixteen. She might rule Godwin, but she evidently could
+not influence, far less rule her daughter. Shelley's influence, as far as
+it was exerted at all, was used in favour of Jane's remaining with them,
+and he paid dearly in after years for the heavy responsibility he now
+assumed.
+
+The travellers proceeded to Paris, where they were obliged to remain
+longer than they intended, finding themselves so absolutely without money,
+nothing having been prearranged in their sudden flight, that Shelley had
+to sell his watch and chain for eight napoleons. Funds were at last
+procured through Tavernier, a French man of business, and they were free
+to put into execution the plan they had resolved upon, namely, to _walk_
+through France, buying an ass to carry their portmanteau and one of them
+by turns.
+
+ _Journal, August 8_ (Mary).--Jane and Shelley go to the ass merchant;
+ we buy an ass. The day spent in preparation for departure.
+
+Their landlady tried to dissuade them from their design.
+
+ She represented to us that a large army had been recently disbanded,
+ that the soldiers and officers wandered idle about the country, and
+ that _les dames seroient certainement enlevées_. But we were proof
+ against her arguments, and, packing up a few necessaries, leaving the
+ rest to go by the diligence, we departed in a _fiacre_ from the door
+ of the hotel, our little ass following.[8]
+
+ _Journal_ (Mary).--We set out to Charenton in the evening, carrying
+ the ass, who was weak and unfit for labour, like the Miller and his
+ Son.
+
+ We dismissed the coach at the barrier. It was dusk, and the ass seemed
+ totally unable to bear one of us, appearing to sink under the
+ portmanteau, though it was small and light. We were, however, merry
+ enough, and thought the leagues short. We arrived at Charenton about
+ ten. Charenton is prettily situated in a valley, through which the
+ Seine flows, winding among banks variegated with trees. On looking at
+ this scene C... (Jane) exclaimed, "Oh! this is beautiful enough; let
+ us live here." This was her exclamation on every new scene, and as
+ each surpassed the one before, she cried, "I am glad we did not live
+ at Charenton, but let us live here."[9]
+
+ _August 9_ (Shelley).--We sell our ass and purchase a mule, in which
+ we much resemble him who never made a bargain but always lost half.
+ The day is most beautiful.
+
+ (Mary).--About nine o'clock we departed; we were clad in black silk. I
+ rode on the mule, which carried also our portmanteau. S. and C. (Jane)
+ followed, bringing a small basket of provisions. At about one we
+ arrived at Gros-Bois, where, under the shade of trees, we ate our
+ bread and fruit, and drank our wine, thinking of Don Quixote and
+ Sancho Panza.
+
+ _Thursday, August 11_ (Mary).--From Provins we came to Nogent. The
+ town was entirely desolated by the Cossacks; the houses were reduced
+ to heaps of white ruins, and the bridge was destroyed. Proceeding on
+ our way we left the great road and arrived at St. Aubin, a beautiful
+ little village situated among trees. This village was also completely
+ destroyed. The inhabitants told us the Cossacks had not left one cow
+ in the village. Notwithstanding the entreaties of the people, who
+ eagerly desired us to stay all night, we continued our route to Trois
+ Maisons, three long leagues farther, on an unfrequented road, and
+ which in many places was hardly perceptible from the surrounding
+ waste....
+
+ As night approached our fears increased that we should not be able to
+ distinguish the road, and Mary expressed these fears in a very
+ complaining tone. We arrived at Trois Maisons at nine o'clock. Jane
+ went up to the first cottage to ask our way, but was only answered by
+ unmeaning laughter. We, however, discovered a kind of an _auberge_,
+ where, having in some degree satisfied our hunger by milk and sour
+ bread, we retired to a wretched apartment to bed. But first let me
+ observe that we discovered that the inhabitants were not in the habit
+ of washing themselves, either when they rose or went to bed.
+
+ _Friday, August 12._--We did not set out from here till eleven
+ o'clock, and travelled a long league under the very eye of a burning
+ sun. Shelley, having sprained his leg, was obliged to ride all day.
+
+ _Saturday, August 13_ (Troyes).--We are disgusted with the excessive
+ dirt of our habitation. Shelley goes to inquire about conveyances. He
+ sells the mule for forty francs and the saddle for sixteen francs. In
+ all our bargains for ass, saddle, and mule we lose more than fifteen
+ napoleons. Money we can but little spare now. Jane and Shelley seek
+ for a conveyance to Neufchâtel.
+
+From Troyes Shelley wrote to Harriet, expressing his anxiety for her
+welfare, and urging her in her own interests to come out to Switzerland,
+where he, who would always remain her best and most disinterested friend,
+would procure for her some sweet retreat among the mountains. He tells her
+some details of their adventures in the simplest manner imaginable; never,
+apparently, doubting for a moment but that they would interest her as much
+as they did him. Harriet, it is needless to say, did not come. Had she
+done so, she would not have found Shelley, for, as the sequel shows, he
+was back in London almost as soon as she could have got to Switzerland.
+
+ _Journal, August 14_ (Mary).--At four in the morning we depart from
+ Troyes, and proceed in the new vehicle to Vandeuvres. The village
+ remains still ruined by the war. We rest at Vandeuvres two hours, but
+ walk in a wood belonging to a neighbouring chateau, and sleep under
+ its shade. The moss was so soft; the murmur of the wind in the leaves
+ was sweeter than Æolian music; we forgot that we were in France or in
+ the world for a time.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _August 17._--The _voiturier_ insists upon our passing the night at
+ the village of Mort. We go out on the rocks, and Shelley and I read
+ part of _Mary_, a fiction. We return at dark, and, unable to enter the
+ beds, we pass a few comfortless hours by the kitchen fireside.
+
+ _Thursday, August 18._--We leave Mort at four. After some hours of
+ tedious travelling, through a most beautiful country, we arrive at
+ Noè. From the summit of one of the hills we see the whole expanse of
+ the valley filled with a white, undulating mist, over which the piny
+ hills pierced like islands. The sun had just risen, and a ray of the
+ red light lay on the waves of this fluctuating vapour. To the west,
+ opposite the sun, it seemed driven by the light against the rock in
+ immense masses of foaming cloud until it becomes lost in the distance,
+ mixing its tints with the fleecy sky. At Noè, whilst our postillion
+ waited, we walked into the forest of pines; it was a scene of
+ enchantment, where every sound and sight contributed to charm.
+
+ Our mossy seat in the deepest recesses of the wood was enclosed from
+ the world by an impenetrable veil. On our return the postillion had
+ departed without us; he left word that he expected to meet us on the
+ road. We proceeded there upon foot to Maison Neuve, an _auberge_ a
+ league distant. At Maison Neuve he had left a message importing that
+ he should proceed to Pontarlier, six leagues distant, and that unless
+ he found us there he should return. We despatched a boy on horseback
+ for him; he promised to wait for us at the next village; we walked two
+ leagues in the expectation of finding him there. The evening was most
+ beautiful; the horned moon hung in the light of sunset that threw a
+ glow of unusual depth of redness above the piny mountains and the dark
+ deep valleys which they included. At Savrine we found, according to
+ our expectation, that M. le Voiturier had pursued his journey with the
+ utmost speed. We engaged a _voiture_ for Pontarlier. Jane very unable
+ to walk. The moon becomes yellow and hangs close to the woody horizon.
+ It is dark before we arrive at Pontarlier. The postillion tells many
+ lies. We sleep, for the first time in France, in a clean bed.
+
+ _Friday, August 19._--We pursue our journey towards Neufchâtel. We
+ pass delightful scenes of verdure surpassing imagination; here first
+ we see clear mountain streams. We pass the barrier between France and
+ Switzerland, and, after descending nearly a league, between lofty
+ rocks covered with pines and interspersed with green glades, where the
+ grass is short and soft and beautifully verdant, we arrive at St.
+ Sulpice. The mule is very lame; we determined to engage another horse
+ for the remainder of the way. Our _voiturier_ had determined to leave
+ us, and had taken measures to that effect. The mountains after St.
+ Sulpice become loftier and more beautiful. Two leagues from Neufchâtel
+ we see the Alps; hill after hill is seen extending its craggy outline
+ before the other, and far behind all, towering above every feature of
+ the scene, the snowy Alps; they are 100 miles distant; they look like
+ those accumulated clouds of dazzling white that arrange themselves on
+ the horizon in summer. This immensity staggers the imagination, and so
+ far surpasses all conception that it requires an effort of the
+ understanding to believe that they are indeed mountains. We arrive at
+ Neufchâtel and sleep.
+
+ _Saturday, August 20._--We consult on our situation. There are no
+ letters at the _bureau de poste_; there cannot be for a week. Shelley
+ goes to the banker's, who promises an answer in two hours; at the
+ conclusion of the time he sends for Shelley, and, to our astonishment
+ and consolation, Shelley returns staggering under the weight of a
+ large canvas bag full of silver. Shelley alone looks grave on the
+ occasion, for he alone clearly apprehends that francs and écus and
+ louis d'or are like the white and flying cloud of noon, that is gone
+ before one can say "Jack Robinson." Shelley goes to secure a place in
+ the diligence; they are all taken. He meets there with a Swiss who
+ speaks English; this man is imbued with the spirit of true politeness.
+ He endeavours to perform real services, and seems to regard the mere
+ ceremonies of the affair as things of very little value. He makes a
+ bargain with a _voiturier_ to take us to Lucerne for eighteen écus.
+
+ We arrange to depart at four the next morning. Our Swiss friend
+ appoints to meet us there.
+
+ _Sunday, August 21._--Go from Neufchâtel at six; our Swiss accompanies
+ us a little way out of town. There is a mist to-day, so we cannot see
+ the Alps; the drive, however, is interesting, especially in the latter
+ part of the day. Shelley and Jane talk concerning Jane's character. We
+ arrive before seven at Soleure. Shelley and Mary go to the
+ much-praised cathedral, and find it very modern and stupid.
+
+ _Monday, August 22._--Leave Soleure at half-past five; very cold
+ indeed, but we now again see the magnificent mountains of Le Valais.
+ Mary is not well, and all are tired of wheeled machines. Shelley is in
+ a jocosely horrible mood. We dine at Zoffingen, and sleep there two
+ hours. In our drive after dinner we see the mountains of St. Gothard,
+ etc. Change our plan of going over St. Gothard. Arrive tired to death;
+ find at the room of the inn a horrible spinet and a case of stuffed
+ birds. Sup at _table d'hôte_.
+
+ _Tuesday, August 23._--We leave at four o'clock and arrive at Lucerne
+ about ten. After breakfast we hire a boat to take us down the lake.
+ Shelley and Mary go out to buy several needful things, and then we
+ embark. It is a most divine day; the farther we advance the more
+ magnificent are the shores of the lake--rock and pine forests covering
+ the feet of the immense mountains. We read part of L'Abbé Barruel's
+ _Histoire du Jacobinisme_. We land at Bessen, go to the wrong inn,
+ where a most comical scene ensues. We sleep at Brunnen. Before we
+ sleep, however, we look out of window.
+
+ _Wednesday, August 24._--We consult on our situation. We cannot
+ procure a house; we are in despair; the filth of the apartment is
+ terrible to Mary; she cannot bear it all the winter. We propose to
+ proceed to Fluelen, but the wind comes from Italy, and will not
+ permit. At last we find a lodging in an ugly house they call the
+ Château for one louis a month, which we take; it consists of two
+ rooms. Mary and Shelley walk to the shore of the lake and read the
+ description of the Siege of Jerusalem in Tacitus. We come home, look
+ out of window and go to bed.
+
+ _Thursday, August 25._--We read Abbé Barruel. Shelley and Jane make
+ purchases; we pack up our things and take possession of our house,
+ which we have engaged for six months. Receive a visit from the
+ _Médecin_ and the old Abbé, whom, it must be owned, we do not treat
+ with proper politeness. We arrange our apartment, and write part of
+ Shelley's romance.
+
+ _Friday, August 26._--Write the romance till three o'clock. Propose
+ crossing Mount St. Gothard. Determine at last to return to England;
+ only wait to set off till the washerwoman brings home our linen. The
+ little Frenchman arrives with tubs and plums and scissors and salt.
+ The linen is not dry; we are compelled to wait until to-morrow. We
+ engage a boat to take us to Lucerne at six the following morning.
+
+ _Saturday, August 27._--We depart at seven; it rains violently till
+ just the end of our voyage. We conjecture the astonishment of the good
+ people at Brunnen. We arrive at Lucerne, dine, then write a part of
+ the romance, and read _Shakespeare_. Interrupted by Jane's horrors;
+ pack up. We have engaged a boat for Basle.
+
+ _Sunday, August 28._--Depart at six o'clock. The river is exceedingly
+ beautiful; the waves break on the rocks, and the descents are steep
+ and rapid. It rained the whole day. We stopped at Mettingen to dine,
+ and there surveyed at our ease the horrid and slimy faces of our
+ companions in voyage; our only wish was to absolutely annihilate such
+ uncleanly animals, to which we might have addressed the boatman's
+ speech to Pope: "'Twere easier for God to make entirely new men than
+ attempt to purify such monsters as these." After a voyage in the rain,
+ rendered disagreeable only by the presence of these loathsome
+ "creepers," we arrive, Shelley much exhausted, at Dettingen, our
+ resting-place for the night.
+
+It never seems to have occurred to them before arriving in Switzerland
+that they had no money wherewith to carry out their further plans, that it
+was more difficult to obtain it abroad than at home, and that the
+remainder of their little store would hardly suffice to take them back to
+England. No sooner thought, however, than done. They gave themselves no
+rest after their long and arduous journey, but started straight back viâ
+the Rhine, arriving in Rotterdam on 8th September with only twenty écus
+remaining, having been "horribly cheated." "Make arrangements, and talk of
+many things, past, present, and to come."
+
+ _Journal, Friday, September 9._--We have arranged with a captain to
+ take us to England--three guineas a-piece; at three o'clock we sail,
+ and in the evening arrive at Marsluys, where a bad wind obliges us to
+ stay.
+
+ _Saturday, September 10._--We remain at Marsluys, Mary begins _Hate_,
+ and gives Shelley the greater pleasure. Shelley writes part of his
+ romance. Sleep at Marsluys. Wind contrary.
+
+ _Sunday, September 11._--The wind becomes more favourable. We hear
+ that we are to sail. Mary writes more of her _Hate_. We depart, cross
+ the bar; the sea is horribly tempestuous, and Mary is nearly sick, nor
+ is Shelley much better. There is an easterly gale in the night which
+ almost kills us, whilst it carries us nearer our journey's end.
+
+ _Monday, September 12._--It is calm; we remain on deck nearly the
+ whole day. Mary recovers from her sickness. We dispute with one man
+ upon the slave trade.
+
+The wanderers arrived at last at Gravesend, not only penniless, but unable
+even to pay their passage money, or to discharge the hackney coach in
+which they drove about from place to place in search of assistance. At the
+time of Shelley's sudden flight, the deeds by which part of his income was
+transferred to Harriet were still in preparation only, and he had,
+without thinking of the consequences of his act, written from Switzerland
+to his bankers, directing them to honour her calls for money, as far as
+his account allowed of it. She must have availed herself so well of this
+permission that now he found he could only obtain the sum he wanted by
+applying for it to her.
+
+The relations between Shelley and Harriet, must, at first, have seemed to
+Mary as incomprehensible as they still do to readers of the _Journal_.
+Their interviews, necessarily very frequent in the next few months, were,
+on the whole, quite friendly. Shelley was kind and perfectly ingenuous and
+sincere; Harriet was sometimes "civil" and good tempered, sometimes cross
+and provoking. But on neither side was there any pretence of deep pain, of
+wounded pride or bitter constraint.
+
+ _Journal, Tuesday, September 13._--We arrive at Gravesend, and with
+ great difficulty prevail on the captain to trust us. We go by boat to
+ London; take a coach; call on Hookham. T. H. not at home. C. treats us
+ very ill. Call at Voisey's. Henry goes to Harriet. Shelley calls on
+ her, whilst poor Mary and Jane are left in the coach for two whole
+ hours. Our debt is discharged. Shelley gets clothes for himself. Go to
+ Strafford Hotel, dine, and go to bed.
+
+ _Wednesday, September 14._--Talk and read the newspaper. Shelley calls
+ on Harriet, who is certainly a very odd creature; he writes several
+ letters; calls on Hookham, and brings home Wordsworth's _Excursion_,
+ of which we read a part, much disappointed. He is a slave. Shelley
+ engages lodgings, to which we remove in the evening.
+
+Shelley now lost no time in putting himself in communication with Skinner
+Street, and on the first day after they settled in their new lodgings he
+addressed a letter to Godwin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+SEPTEMBER 1814-MAY 1816
+
+
+Whatever may have been Godwin's degree of responsibility for the opinions
+which had enabled Shelley to elope in all good faith with his daughter,
+and which saved her from serious scruple in eloping with Shelley, it would
+be impossible not to sympathise with the father's feelings after the
+event.
+
+People do not resent those misfortunes least which they have helped to
+bring on themselves, and no one ever derived less consolation from his own
+theories than did Godwin from his, as soon as they were unpleasantly put
+into practice. He had done little to win his daughter's confidence, but he
+was keenly wounded by the proof she had given of its absence. His pride,
+as well as his affection, had suffered a serious blow through her
+departure and that of Jane. For a philosopher like him, accustomed to be
+looked up to and consulted on matters of education, such a failure in his
+own family was a public stigma. False and malicious reports got about,
+which had an additional and peculiar sting from their originating partly
+in his well-known impecuniosity. It was currently rumoured that he had
+sold the two girls to Shelley for £800 and £700 respectively. No wonder
+that Godwin, accustomed to look down from a lofty altitude on such minor
+matters as money and indebtedness, felt now that he could not hold up his
+head. He shunned his old friends, and they, for the most part, felt this
+and avoided him. His home was embittered and spoilt. Mrs. Godwin, incensed
+at Jane's conduct, vented her wrath in abuse and invective on Shelley and
+Mary.
+
+No one has thought it worth while to record how poor Fanny was affected by
+the first news of the family calamity. It must have reached her in
+Ireland, and her subsequent return home was dismal indeed. The loss of her
+only sister was a bitter grief to her; and, strong as was her disapproval
+of that sister's conduct, it must have given her a pang to feel that the
+culpable Jane had enjoyed Shelley's and Mary's confidence, while she who
+loved them with a really unselfish love, had been excluded from it. What
+could she now say or do to cheer Godwin? How parry Mrs. Godwin's
+inconsiderate and intemperate complaints and innuendos? No doubt Fanny had
+often stood up for Mary with her stepmother, and now Mary herself had cut
+the ground from under her feet.
+
+Charles Clairmont was at home again; ostensibly on the plea of helping in
+the publishing business, but as a fact idling about, on the lookout for
+some lucky opening. He cared no more than did Jane for the family
+(including his own mother) in Skinner Street: like every Clairmont, he
+was an adventurer, and promptly transferred his sympathies to any point
+which suited himself. To crown all, William, the youngest son, had become
+infected with the spirit of revolt, and had, as Godwin expresses it,
+"eloped for two nights," giving his family no little anxiety.
+
+The first and immediate result of Shelley's letter to Godwin was _a visit
+to his windows_ by Mrs. Godwin and Fanny, who tried in this way to get a
+surreptitious peep at the three truants. Shelley went out to them, but
+they would not speak to him. Late that evening, however, Charles Clairmont
+appeared. He was to be another thorn in the side of the interdicted yet
+indispensable Shelley. He did not mind having a foot in each camp, and had
+no scruples about coming as often and staying as long as he liked, or in
+retailing a large amount of gossip. They discussed William's escapade, and
+the various plans for the immuring of Jane, if she could be caught. This
+did not predispose Jane to listen to the overtures subsequently made to
+her from time to time by her relatives.
+
+Godwin replied to Shelley's letter, but declined all further communication
+with him except through a solicitor. Mrs. Godwin's spirit of rancour was
+such that, several weeks later, she, on one occasion, forbade Fanny to
+come down to dinner because she had received a lock of Mary's hair,
+probably conveyed to her by Charles Clairmont, who, in return, did not
+fail to inform Mary of the whole story. In spite, however, of this
+vehement show of animosity, Shelley was kept through one channel or
+another only too well informed of Godwin's affairs. Indeed, he was never
+suffered to forget them for long at a time. No sign of impatience or
+resentment ever appears in his journal or letters. Not only was Godwin the
+father of his beloved, but he was still, to Shelley, the fountain-head of
+wisdom, philosophy, and inspiration. Mary, too, was devoted to her father,
+and never wavered in her conviction that his inimical attitude proceeded
+from no impulse of his own mind, but that he was upheld in it by the
+influence and interference of Mrs. Godwin.
+
+The journal of Shelley and Mary for the next few months is, in its extreme
+simplicity, a curious record of a most uncomfortable time; a medley of
+lodgings, lawyers, money-lenders, bailiffs, wild schemes, and literary
+pursuits. Penniless themselves, they were yet responsible for hundreds and
+thousands of pounds of other people's debts; there was Harriet running up
+bills at shops and hotels and sending her creditors on to Shelley; Godwin
+perpetually threatened with bankruptcy, refusing to see the man who had
+robbed him of his daughter, yet with literally no other hope of support
+but his help; Jane Clairmont now, as for years to come, entirely dependent
+on them for everything; Shelley's friends quartering themselves on him all
+day and every day, often taking advantage of his love of society and
+intellectual friction, of Mary's youth and inexperience and compliant
+good-nature, to live at his expense, and, in one case at least, to obtain
+from him money which he really had not got, and could only borrow, at
+ruinous interest, on his expectations. He had frequently to be in hiding
+from bailiffs, change his lodgings, sleep at friends' houses or at
+different hotels, getting his letters when he could make a stealthy
+appointment to meet Mary, perhaps at St. Paul's, perhaps at some street
+corner or outside some coffee-house,--anywhere where he might escape
+observation. He was not always certain how far he could rely on those whom
+he had considered his friends, such as the brothers Hookham. Rightly or
+wrongly, he was led to imagine that Harriet, from motives of revenge, was
+bent on ruining Godwin, and that for this purpose she would aid and abet
+in his own arrest, by persuading the Hookhams in such a case to refuse
+bail. The rumour of this conspiracy was conveyed to the Shelleys in a note
+from Fanny, who, for Godwin's sake and theirs, broke through the stern
+embargo laid on all communication.
+
+Yet through all these troubles and bewilderments there went on a perpetual
+under-current of reading and study, thought and discussion. The actual
+existence was there, and all these external accidents of circumstance, the
+realities in ordinary lives were, in these extraordinary lives, treated
+really as accidents, as passing hindrances to serious purpose, and no
+more.
+
+Nothing but Mary's true love for Shelley and perfect happiness with him
+could have tided her over this time. Youth, however, was a wonderful
+helper, added to the unusual intellectual vigour and vivacity which made
+it possible for her, as it would be to few girls of seventeen, to forget
+the daily worries of life in reading and study. Perhaps at no time was the
+even balance of her nature more clearly manifested than now, when, after
+living through a romance that will last in story as long as the name of
+Shelley, her existence revolutionised, her sensibilities preternaturally
+stimulated, having taken, as it were, a life's experiences by cumulation
+in a few months; weak and depressed in health, too, she still had
+sufficient energy and self-control to apply herself to a solid course of
+intellectual training.
+
+Jane's presence added to their unsettlement, although at times it may have
+afforded them some amusement. Wilful, fanciful, with a sense of humour and
+many good impulses, but with that decided dash of charlatanism which
+characterised the Clairmonts, and little true sensibility, she was a
+willing disciple for any wild flights of fancy, and a keen participator in
+all impossible projects and harum-scarum makeshifts. Her presence
+stimulated and enlivened Shelley, her whims and fancies did not seriously
+affect, beyond amusing him, and she was an indefatigable companion for him
+in his walks and wanderings, now that Mary was becoming less and less able
+to go about. To Mary, however, she must often have been an incubus, a
+perpetual _third_, and one who, if sometimes useful, often gave a great
+deal of trouble too. She did not bring to Mary, as she did to Shelley, the
+charm of novelty; nor does the unfolding of one girl's character present
+to another girl whose character is also in process of development such
+attractive problems as it does to a young and speculative man. Mary was
+too noble by nature and too perfectly in accord with Shelley to indulge in
+actual jealousy of Jane's companionship with him; still, she must often
+have had a weary time when those two were scouring the town on their
+multifarious errands; misunderstandings, also, would occur, only to be
+removed by long and patient explanation. Jane (or "Clara," as about this
+time she elected to call herself, in preference to her own less romantic
+name) was hardly more than a child, and in some respects a very childish
+child. Excitable and nervous, she had no idea of putting constraint upon
+herself for others' sake, and gave her neighbours very little rest, as she
+preferred any amount of scenes to humdrum quiet. She and Shelley would sit
+up half the night, amusing themselves with wild speculations, natural and
+supernatural, till she would go off into hysterics or trances, or, when
+she had at last gone to bed, would walk in her sleep, see phantoms, and
+frighten them all with her terrors. In the end she was invariably brought
+to poor Mary, who, delicate in health, had gone early to rest, but had to
+bestir herself to bring Jane to reason, and to "console her with her
+all-powerful benevolence," as Shelley describes it.
+
+Every page of the journal testifies to the extreme youth of the writers;
+likely and unlikely events are chronicled with equal simplicity. Where all
+is new, one thing is not more startling than another; and the commonplaces
+of everyday life may afford more occasion for surprise than the strangest
+anomalies. Specimens only of the diary can be given here, and they are
+best given without comment.
+
+ _Sunday, September 18._--Mary receives her first lesson in Greek. She
+ reads the _Curse of Kehama_, while Shelley walks out with Peacock, who
+ dines. Shelley walks part of the way home with him. Curious account of
+ Harriet. We talk, study a little Greek, and go to bed.
+
+ _Tuesday, September 20._--Shelley writes to Hookham and Tavernier;
+ goes with Hookham to Ballachy's. Mary reads _Political Justice_ all
+ the morning. Study Greek. In the evening Shelley reads _Thalaba_
+ aloud.
+
+ _Monday, September 26._--Shelley goes with Peacock to Ballachy's, and
+ engages lodgings at Pancras. Visit from Mrs. Pringer. Read _Political
+ Justice_ and the _Empire of the Nairs_.
+
+ _Tuesday, September 21._--Read _Political Justice_; finish the
+ _Nairs_; pack up and go to our lodgings in Somers Town.
+
+ _Friday, September 30._--After breakfast walk to Hampstead Heath.
+ Discuss the possibility of converting and liberating two heiresses;
+ arrange a plan on the subject.... Peacock calls; talk with him
+ concerning the heiresses and Marian, arrange his marriage.
+
+ _Sunday, October 2._--Peacock comes after breakfast; walk over
+ Primrose Hill; sail little boats; return a little before four; talk.
+ Read _Political Justice_ in the evening; talk.
+
+ _Monday, October 3._--Read _Political Justice_. Hookham calls. Walk
+ with Peacock to the Lake of Nangis and set off little fire-boats.
+ After dinner talk and let off fireworks. Talk of the west of Ireland
+ plan.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 5._--Peacock at breakfast. Walk to the Lake of
+ Nangis and sail fire-boats. Read _Political Justice_. Shelley reads
+ the _Ancient Mariner_ aloud. Letter from Harriet, very civil. £400 for
+ £2400.
+
+ _Friday, October 7_ (Shelley).--Read _Political Justice_. Peacock
+ calls. Jane, for some reason, refuses to walk. We traverse the fields
+ towards Hampstead. Under an expansive oak lies a dead calf; the cow,
+ lean from grief, is watching it. (Contemplate subject for poem.) The
+ sunset is beautiful. Return at 9. Peacock departs. Mary goes to bed at
+ half-past 8; Shelley sits up with Jane. Talk of oppression and reform,
+ of cutting squares of skin from the soldiers' backs. Jane states her
+ conception of the subterranean community of women. Talk of Hogg,
+ Harriet, Miss Hitchener, etc. At 1 o'clock Shelley observes that it is
+ the witching time of night; he inquires soon after if it is not
+ horrible to feel the silence of night tingling in our ears; in half an
+ hour the question is repeated in a different form; at 2 they retire
+ awestruck and hardly daring to breathe. Shelley says to Jane,
+ "Good-night;" his hand is leaning on the table; he is conscious of an
+ expression in his countenance which he cannot repress. Jane hesitates.
+ "Good-night" again. She still hesitates.
+
+ "Did you ever read the tragedy of _Orra_?" said Shelley.
+
+ "Yes. How horribly you look!--take your eyes off."
+
+ "Good-night" again, and Jane runs to her room. Shelley, unable to
+ sleep, kissed Mary, and prepared to sit beside her and read till
+ morning, when rapid footsteps descended the stairs. Jane was there;
+ her countenance was distorted most unnaturally by horrible dismay--it
+ beamed with a whiteness that seemed almost like light; her lips and
+ cheeks were of one deadly hue; the skin of her face and forehead was
+ drawn into innumerable wrinkles--the lineaments of terror that could
+ not be contained; her hair came prominent and erect; her eyes were
+ wide and staring, drawn almost from the sockets by the convulsion of
+ the muscles; the eyelids were forced in, and the eyeballs, without any
+ relief, seemed as if they had been newly inserted, in ghastly sport,
+ in the sockets of a lifeless head. This frightful spectacle endured
+ but for a few moments--it was displaced by terror and confusion,
+ violent indeed, and full of dismay, but human. She asked me if I had
+ touched her pillow (her tone was that of dreadful alarm). I said, "No,
+ no! if you will come into the room I will tell you." I informed her
+ of Mary's pregnancy; this seemed to check her violence. She told me
+ that a pillow placed upon her bed had been removed, in the moment that
+ she turned her eyes away to a chair at some distance, and evidently by
+ no human power. She was positive as to the facts of her
+ self-possession and calmness. Her manner convinced me that she was not
+ deceived. We continued to sit by the fire, at intervals engaging in
+ awful conversation relative to the nature of these mysteries. I read
+ part of _Alexy_; I repeated one of my own poems. Our conversation,
+ though intentionally directed to other topics, irresistibly recurred
+ to these. Our candles burned low; we feared they would not last until
+ daylight. Just as the dawn was struggling with moonlight, Jane
+ remarked in me that unutterable expression which had affected her with
+ so much horror before; she described it as expressing a mixture of
+ deep sadness and conscious power over her. I covered my face with my
+ hands, and spoke to her in the most studied gentleness. It was
+ ineffectual; her horror and agony increased even to the most dreadful
+ convulsions. She shrieked and writhed on the floor. I ran to Mary; I
+ communicated in few words the state of Jane. I brought her to Mary.
+ The convulsions gradually ceased, and she slept. At daybreak we
+ examined her apartment and found her pillow on the chair.
+
+ _Saturday, October 8_ (Mary).--Read _Political Justice_. We walked
+ out; when we return Shelley talks with Jane, and I read _Wrongs of
+ Women_. In the evening we talk and read.
+
+ _Tuesday, October 11._--Read _Political Justice_. Shelley goes to the
+ Westminster Insurance Office. Study Greek. Peacock dines. Receive a
+ refusal about the money....
+
+ Have a good-humoured letter from Harriet, and a cold and even
+ sarcastic one from Mrs. Boinville. Shelley reads the _History of the
+ Illuminati_, out of Barruel, to us.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 12._--Read _Political Justice_. A letter from
+ Marshall; Jane goes there. When she comes home we go to Cheapside;
+ returning, an occurrence. Deliberation until 7; burn the letter; sleep
+ early.
+
+ _Thursday, October 13._--Communicate the burning of the letter. Much
+ dispute and discussion concerning its probable contents. Alarm.
+ Determine to quit London; send for £5 from Hookham. Change our
+ resolution. Go to the play. The extreme depravity and disgusting
+ nature of the scene; the inefficacy of acting to encourage or maintain
+ the delusion. The loathsome sight of men personating characters which
+ do not and cannot belong to them. Shelley displeased with what he saw
+ of Kean. Return. Alarm. We sleep at the Stratford Hotel.
+
+ _Friday, October 14_ (Shelley).--Jane's insensibility and incapacity
+ for the slightest degree of friendship. The feelings occasioned by
+ this discovery prevent me from maintaining any measure in security.
+ This highly incorrect; subversion of the first principles of true
+ philosophy; characters, particularly those which are unformed, may
+ change. Beware of weakly giving way to trivial sympathies. Content
+ yourself with one great affection--with a single mighty hope; let the
+ rest of mankind be the subjects of your benevolence, your justice,
+ and, as human beings, of your sensibility; but, as you value many
+ hours of peace, never suffer more than one even to approach the
+ hallowed circle. Nothing should shake the truly great spirit which is
+ not sufficiently mighty to destroy it.
+
+ Peacock calls. I take some interest in this man, but no possible
+ conduct of his would disturb my tranquillity.... Converse with Jane;
+ her mind unsettled; her character unformed; occasion of hope from some
+ instances of softness and feeling; she is not entirely insensible to
+ concessions, new proofs that the most exalted philosophy, the truest
+ virtue, consists in an habitual contempt of self; a subduing of all
+ angry feelings; a sacrifice of pride and selfishness. When you attempt
+ benefit to either an individual or a community, abstain from imputing
+ it as an error that they despise or overlook your virtue. These are
+ incidental reflections which arise only indirectly from the
+ circumstances recorded.
+
+ Walk with Peacock to the pond; talk of Marian and Greek metre. Peacock
+ dines. In the evening read Cicero and the _Paradoxa_. Night comes;
+ Jane walks in her sleep, and groans horribly; listen for two hours; at
+ length bring her to Mary. Begin _Julius_, and finish the little volume
+ of Cicero.
+
+ The next morning the chimney board in Jane's room is found to have
+ walked leisurely into the middle of the room, accompanied by the
+ pillow, who, being very sleepy, tried to get into bed again, but sat
+ down on his back.
+
+ _Saturday, October 15_ (Mary).--After breakfast read _Political
+ Justice_. Shelley goes with Peacock to Ballachy's. A disappointment;
+ it is put off till Monday. They then go to Homerton. Finish _St.
+ Leon_. Jane writes to Marshall. A letter from my Father. Talking; Jane
+ and I walk out. Shelley and Peacock return at 6. Shelley advises Jane
+ not to go. Jane's letter to my Father. A refusal. Talk about going
+ away, and, as usual, settle nothing.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 19._--Finish _Political Justice_, read _Caleb
+ Williams_. Shelley goes to the city, and meets with a total failure.
+ Send to Hookham. Shelley reads a part of _Comus_ aloud.
+
+ _Thursday, October 20._--Shelley goes to the city. Finish _Caleb
+ Williams_; read to Jane. Peacock calls; he has called on my father,
+ who will not speak about Shelley to any one but an attorney. Oh!
+ philosophy!...
+
+ _Saturday, October 22._--Finish the _Life of Alfieri_. Go to the tomb
+ (Mary Wollstonecraft's), and read the _Essay on Sepulchres_ there.
+ Shelley is out all the morning at the lawyer's, but nothing is
+ done....
+
+ In the evening a letter from Fanny, warning us of the Hookhams. Jane
+ and Shelley go after her; they find her, but Fanny runs away.
+
+ _Monday, October 24._--Read aloud to Jane. At 11 go out to meet
+ Shelley. Walk up and down Fleet Street; call at Peacock's; return to
+ Fleet Street; call again at Peacock's; return to Pancras; remain an
+ hour or two. People call; I suppose bailiffs. Return to Peacock's.
+ Call at the coffee-house; see Shelley; he has been to Ballachy's. Good
+ hopes; to be decided Thursday morning. Return to Peacock's; dine
+ there; get money. Return home in a coach; go to bed soon, tired to
+ death.
+
+ _Thursday, October 25._--Write to Shelley. Jane goes to Fanny.... Call
+ at Peacock's; go to the hotel; Shelley not there. Go back to
+ Peacock's. Peacock goes to Shelley. Meet Shelley in Holborn. Walk up
+ and down Bartlett's Buildings.... Come with him to Peacock's; talk
+ with him till 10; return to Pancras without him. Jane in the dumps all
+ evening about going away.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 26._--A visit from Shelley's old friends;[10] they
+ go away much disappointed and very angry. He has written to T. Hookham
+ to ask him to be bail. Return to Pancras about 4. Read all the
+ evening.
+
+ _Thursday, October 27._--Write to Fanny all morning. We had received
+ letters from Skinner Street in the morning. Fanny is very doleful, and
+ C. C. contradicts in one line what he had said in the line before.
+ After two go to St. Paul's; meet Shelley; go with him in a coach to
+ Hookham's; H. is out; return; leave him and proceed to Pancras. He has
+ not received a definitive answer from Ballachy; meet a money-lender,
+ of whom I have some hopes. Read aloud to Jane in the evening. Jane
+ goes to sleep. Write to Shelley. A letter comes enclosing a letter
+ from Hookham consenting to justify bail. Harriet has been to work
+ there against my Father.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 1._--Learn Greek all morning. Shelley goes to the
+ 'Change. Jane calls.[11] People want their money; won't send up
+ dinner, and we are all very hungry. Jane goes to Hookham. Shelley and
+ I talk about her character. Jane returns without money. Writes to
+ Fanny about coming to see her; she can't come. Writes to Charles. Goes
+ to Peacock to send him to us with some eatables; he is out. Charles
+ promises to see her. She returns to Pancras; he goes there, and tells
+ the dismal state of the Skinner Street affairs. Shelley goes to
+ Peacock's; comes home with cakes. Wait till T. Hookham sends money to
+ pay the bill. Shelley returns to Pancras. Have tea, and go to bed.
+ Shelley goes to Peacock's to sleep.
+
+These are two specimens of the notes constantly passing between them.
+
+ MARY TO SHELLEY.
+
+ _25th October._
+
+ For what a minute did I see you yesterday. Is this the way, my
+ beloved, we are to live till the 6th? In the morning when I wake I
+ turn to look on you. Dearest Shelley, you are solitary and
+ uncomfortable. Why cannot I be with you, to cheer you and press you to
+ my heart? Ah! my love, you have no friends; why, then, should you be
+ torn from the only one who has affection for you? But I shall see you
+ to-night, and this is the hope I shall live on through the day. Be
+ happy, dear Shelley, and think of me! I know how tenderly you love me,
+ and how you repine at your absence from me. When shall we be free of
+ treachery? I send you the letter I told you of from Harriet, and a
+ letter we received yesterday from Fanny; the history of this interview
+ I will tell you when I come. I was so dreadfully tired yesterday that
+ I was obliged to take a coach home. Forgive this extravagance, but I
+ am so very weak at present, and I had been so agitated through the
+ day, that I was not able to stand; a morning's rest, however, will set
+ me quite right again; I shall be well when I meet you this evening.
+ Will you be at the door of the coffee-house at 5 o'clock, as it is
+ disagreeable to go into those places. I shall be there exactly at that
+ time, and we can go into St. Paul's, where we can sit down.
+
+ I send you _Diogenes_, as you have no books. Hookham was so
+ ill-tempered as not to send the book I asked for. So this is the end
+ of my letter, dearest love.
+
+ What do they mean?[12] I detest Mrs. Godwin; she plagues my father
+ out of his life; and these----Well, no matter. Why will Godwin not
+ follow the obvious bent of his affections, and be reconciled to us?
+ No; his prejudices, the world, and _she_--all these forbid it. What am
+ I to do? trust to time, of course, for what else can I do. Good-night,
+ my love; to-morrow I will seal this blessing on your lips. Press me,
+ your own Mary, to your heart. Perhaps she will one day have a father;
+ till then be everything to me, love; and, indeed, I will be a good
+ girl, and never vex you. I will learn Greek and----but when shall we
+ meet when I may tell you all this, and you will so sweetly reward me?
+ But good-night; I am wofully tired, and so sleepy. One kiss--well,
+ that is enough--to-morrow!
+
+
+ SHELLEY TO MARY.
+
+ _28th October._
+
+ MY BELOVED MARY--I know not whether these transient meetings produce
+ not as much pain as pleasure. What have I said? I do not mean it. I
+ will not forget the sweet moments when I saw your eyes--the divine
+ rapture of the few and fleeting kisses. Yet, indeed, this must cease;
+ indeed, we must not part thus wretchedly to meet amid the comfortless
+ tumult of business; to part I know not how.
+
+ Well, dearest love, to-morrow--to-morrow night. That eternal clock!
+ Oh! that I could "fright the steeds of lazy-paced Time." I do not
+ think that I am less impatient now than formerly to repossess--to
+ entirely engross--my own treasured love. It seems so unworthy a cause
+ for the slightest separation. I could reconcile it to my own feelings
+ to go to prison if they would cease to persecute us with
+ interruptions. Would it not be better, my heavenly love, to creep into
+ the loathliest cave so that we might be together.
+
+ Mary, love, we must be united; I will not part from you again after
+ Saturday night. We must devise some scheme. I must return. Your
+ thoughts alone can waken mine to energy; my mind without yours is dead
+ and cold as the dark midnight river when the moon is down. It seems as
+ if you alone could shield me from impurity and vice. If I were absent
+ from you long, I should shudder with horror at myself; my
+ understanding becomes undisciplined without you. I believe I must
+ become in Mary's hands what Harriet was in mine. Yet how differently
+ disposed--how devoted and affectionate--how, beyond measure,
+ reverencing and adoring--the intelligence that governs me! I repent me
+ of this simile; it is unjust; it is false. Nor do I mean that I
+ consider you much my superior, evidently as you surpass me in
+ originality and simplicity of mind. How divinely sweet a task it is to
+ imitate each other's excellences, and each moment to become wiser in
+ this surpassing love, so that, constituting but one being, all real
+ knowledge may be comprised in the maxim [Greek: gnôthi seauton]--(know
+ thyself)--with infinitely more justice than in its narrow and common
+ application. I enclose you Hookham's note; what do you think of it? My
+ head aches; I am not well; I am tired with this comfortless
+ estrangement from all that is dear to me. My own dearest love,
+ good-night. I meet you in Staples Inn at twelve to-morrow--half an
+ hour before twelve. I have written to Hooper and Sir J. Shelley.
+
+ _Journal, Thursday, November 3_ (Mary).--Work; write to Shelley; read
+ Greek grammar. Receive a letter from Mr. Booth; so all my hopes are
+ over there. Ah! Isabel; I did not think you would act thus. Read and
+ work in the evening. Receive a letter from Shelley. Write to him.
+
+ [Letter not transcribed here.]
+
+ _Sunday, November 6._--Talk to Shelley. He writes a great heap of
+ letters. Read part of _St. Leon_. Talk with him all evening; this is a
+ day devoted to Love in idleness. Go to sleep early in the evening.
+ Shelley goes away a little before 10.
+
+ _Wednesday, November 9._--Pack up all morning; leave Pancras about 3;
+ call at Peacock's for Shelley; Charles Clairmont has been for £8. Go
+ to Nelson Square. Jane gloomy; she is very sullen with Shelley. Well,
+ never mind, my love--we are happy.
+
+ _Thursday, November 10._--Jane is not well, and does not speak the
+ whole day. We send to Peacock's, but no good news arrives. Lambert has
+ called there, and says he will write. Read a little of _Petronius_, a
+ most detestable book. Shelley is out all the morning. In the evening
+ read Louvet's _Memoirs_--go to bed early. Shelley and Jane sit up till
+ 12, talking; Shelley talks her into a good humour.
+
+ _Sunday, November 13._--Write in the morning; very unwell all day.
+ Fanny sends a letter to Jane to come to Blackfriars Road; Jane cannot
+ go. Fanny comes here; she will not see me; hear everything she says,
+ however. They think my letter cold and _indelicate_! God bless them.
+ Papa tells Fanny if she sees me he will never speak to her again; a
+ blessed degree of liberty this! He has had a very impertinent letter
+ from Christy Baxter. The reason she comes is to ask Jane to Skinner
+ Street to see Mrs. Godwin, who they say is dying. Jane has no clothes.
+ Fanny goes back to Skinner Street to get some. She returns. Jane goes
+ with her. Shelley returns (he had been to Hookham's); he disapproves.
+ Write and read. In the evening talk with my love about a great many
+ things. We receive a letter from Jane saying she is very happy, and
+ she does not know when she will return. Turner has called at Skinner
+ Street; he says it is too far to Nelson Square. I am unwell in the
+ evening.
+
+ _Journal, November 14_ (Shelley).--Mary is unwell. Receive a note from
+ Hogg; cloth from Clara. I wish this girl had a resolute mind. Without
+ firmness understanding is impotent, and the truest principles
+ unintelligible. Charles calls to confer concerning Lambert; walk with
+ him. Go to 'Change, to Peacock's, to Lambert's; receive £30. In the
+ evening Hogg calls; perhaps he still may be my friend, in spite of the
+ radical differences of sympathy between us; he was pleased with Mary;
+ this was the test by which I had previously determined to judge his
+ character. We converse on many interesting subjects, and Mary's
+ illness disappears for a time.
+
+ _Thursday, November 15_ (Shelley).--Disgusting dreams have occupied
+ the night.
+
+ (Mary).--Very unwell. Jane calls; converse with her. She goes to
+ Skinner Street; tells Papa that she will not return; comes back to
+ Nelson Square with Shelley; calls at Peacock's. Shelley read aloud to
+ us in the evening out of Adolphus's _Lives_.
+
+ _Wednesday, November 16._--Very ill all day. Shelley and Jane out all
+ day shopping about the town. Shelley reads _Edgar Huntley_ to us.
+ Shelley and Jane go to Hookham's. Hogg comes in the meantime; he stops
+ all the evening. Shelley writes his critique till half-past 3.
+
+ _Saturday, November 19._--Very ill. Shelley and Jane go out to call at
+ Mrs. Knapp's; she receives Jane kindly; promises to come and see me. I
+ go to bed early. Charles Clairmont calls in the evening, but I do not
+ see him.
+
+ _Sunday, November 20._--Still very ill; get up very late. In the
+ evening Shelley reads aloud out of the _Female Revolutionary
+ Plutarch_. Hogg comes in the evening.... Get into an argument about
+ virtue, in which Hogg makes a sad bungle; quite muddled on the point,
+ I perceive.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 29._--Work all day. Heigh ho! Clara and Shelley go
+ before breakfast to Parker's. After breakfast, Shelley is as badly off
+ as I am with my work, for he is out all day with those lawyers. In the
+ evening Shelley and Jane go in search of Charles Clairmont; they
+ cannot find him. Read _Philip Stanley_--very stupid.
+
+ _Tuesday, December 6._--Very unwell. Shelley and Clara walk out, as
+ usual, to heaps of places. Read _Agathon_, which I do not like so well
+ as _Peregrine_.... A letter from Hookham, to say that Harriet has been
+ brought to bed of a son and heir. Shelley writes a number of circular
+ letters of this event, which ought to be ushered in with ringing of
+ bells, etc., for it is the son _of his wife_. Hogg comes in the
+ evening; I like him better, though he vexed me by his attachment to
+ sporting. A letter from Harriet confirming the news, in a letter from
+ a _deserted wife_!! and telling us he has been born a week.
+
+ _Wednesday, December 7._--Clara and Shelley go out together; Shelley
+ calls on the lawyers and on Harriet, who treats him with insulting
+ selfishness; they return home wet and very tired. Read _Agathon_. I
+ like it less to-day; he discovers many opinions which I think
+ detestable. Work. In the evening Charles Clairmont comes. Hear that
+ Place is trying to raise £1200 to pay Hume on Shelley's _post obit_;
+ affairs very bad in Skinner Street; afraid of a call for the rent; all
+ very bad. Shelley walks home with Charles Clairmont; goes to Hookham's
+ about the £100 to lend my Father. Hookham out. He returns; very tired.
+ Work in the evening.
+
+ _Thursday, December 8._--Shelley and Clara go to Hookham's; get the
+ £90 for my father; they are out, as usual, all morning. Finish
+ _Agathon_. I do not like it; Wieland displays some most detestable
+ opinions; he is one of those men who alter all their opinions when
+ they are about forty, and then think it will be the same with every
+ one, and that they are themselves the only proper monitors of youth.
+ Work. When Shelley and Clara return, Shelley goes to Lambert's; out.
+ Work. In the evening Hogg comes; talk about a great number of things;
+ he is more sincere this evening than I have seen him before. Odd
+ dreams.
+
+ _Friday, December 16._--Still ill; heigh ho! Finish _Jane Talbot_.
+ Hume calls at half-past 12; he tells of the great distress in Skinner
+ Street; I do not see him. Hookham calls; hasty little man; he does not
+ stay long. In the evening Hogg comes. Shelley and Clara are at first
+ out; they have been to look for Charles Clairmont; they find him, and
+ walk with him some time up and down Ely Place. Shelley goes to sleep
+ early; very tired. We talk about flowers and trees in the evening; a
+ country conversation.
+
+ _Saturday, December 17._--Very ill. Shelley and Clara go to Pike's;
+ when they return, Shelley goes to walk round the Square. Talk with
+ Shelley in the evening; he sleeps, and I lie down on the bed. Jane
+ goes to Pike's at 9. Charles Clairmont comes, and talks about several
+ things. Mrs. Godwin did not allow Fanny to come down to dinner on her
+ receiving a lock of my hair. Fanny of course behaves slavishly on the
+ occasion. He goes at half-past 11.
+
+ _Sunday, December 18._--Better, but far from well. Pass a very happy
+ morning with Shelley. Charles Clairmont comes at dinner-time, the
+ Skinner Street folk having gone to dine at the Kennie's. Jane and he
+ take a long walk together. Shelley and I are left alone. Hogg comes
+ after Clara and her brother return. C. C. flies from the field on his
+ approach. Conversation as usual. Get worse towards night.
+
+ _Monday, December 19_ (Shelley).--Mary rather better this morning.
+ Jane goes to Hume's about Godwin's bills; learn that Lambert is
+ inclined, but hesitates. Hear of a woman--supposed to be the daughter
+ of the Duke of Montrose--who has the head of a hog. _Suetonius_ is
+ finished, and Shelley begins the _Historia Augustana_. Charles
+ Clairmont comes in the evening; a discussion concerning female
+ character. Clara imagines that I treat her unkindly; Mary consoles her
+ with her all-powerful benevolence. I rise (having already gone to bed)
+ and speak with Clara; she was very unhappy; I leave her tranquil.
+
+ _Tuesday, December 20_ (Mary).--Shelley goes to Pike's; take a short
+ walk with him first. Unwell. A letter from Harriet, who threatens
+ Shelley with her lawyer. In the evening read _Emilia Galotti_. Hogg
+ comes. Converse of various things. He goes at twelve.
+
+ _Wednesday, December 21_ (Shelley).--Mary is better. Shelley goes to
+ Pike's, to the Insurance Offices, and the lawyer's; an agreement
+ entered into for £3000 for £1000. A letter from Wales, offering _post
+ obit_. Shelley goes to Hume's; Mary reads Miss Baillie's plays in the
+ evening. Shelley goes to bed at 8; Mary at 11.
+
+ _Saturday, December 24_ (Mary).--Read _View of French Revolution_.
+ Walk out with Shelley, and spend a dreary morning waiting for him at
+ Mr. Peacock's. In the evening Hogg comes. I like him better each time;
+ it is a pity that he is a lawyer; he wasted so much time on that trash
+ that might be spent on better things.
+
+ _Sunday, December 25._--Christmas Day. Have a very bad side-ache in
+ the morning, so I rise late. Charles Clairmont comes and dines with
+ us. In the afternoon read Miss Baillie's plays. Hogg spends the
+ evening with us; conversation, as usual.
+
+ _Monday, December 26_ (Shelley).--The sweet Maie asleep; leave a note
+ with her. Walk with Clara to Pike's, etc. Go to Hampstead and look for
+ a house; we return in a return-chaise; find that Laurence has arrived,
+ and consult for Mary; she has read Miss Baillie's plays all day. Mary
+ better this evening. Shelley very much fatigued; sleeps all the
+ evening. Read _Candide_.
+
+ _Tuesday, December 27_ (Mary).--Not very well; Shelley very unwell.
+ Read _De Montfort_, and talk with Shelley in the evening. Read _View
+ of the French Revolution_. Hogg comes in the evening; talk of heaps of
+ things. Shelley's odd dream.
+
+ _Wednesday, December 28._--Shelley and Clara out all the morning. Read
+ _French Revolution_ in the evening. Shelley and I go to Gray's Inn to
+ get Hogg; he is not there; go to Arundel Street; can't find him. Go to
+ Garnerin's. Lecture on electricity; the gases, and the phantasmagoria;
+ return at half-past 9. Shelley goes to sleep. Read _View of French
+ Revolution_ till 12; go to bed.
+
+ _Friday, December 30._--Shelley and Jane go out as usual. Read Bryan
+ Edwards's _Account of West Indies_. They do not return till past
+ seven, having been locked into Kensington Gardens; both very tired.
+ Hogg spends the evening with us.
+
+ _Saturday, December 31_ (Shelley).--The poor Maie was very weak and
+ tired all day. Shelley goes to Pike's and Humes' and Mrs.
+ Peacock's;[13] return very tired, and sleeps all the evening. The Maie
+ goes to sleep early. New Year's Eve.
+
+In January 1815 Shelley's grandfather, Sir Bysshe, died, and his father,
+Mr. Timothy Shelley, succeeded to the baronetcy and estate. By an
+arrangement with his father, according to which he relinquished all claim
+on a certain portion of his patrimony, Shelley now became possessed of
+£1000 a year (£200 a year of which he at once set apart for Harriet), as
+well as a considerable sum of ready money for the relief of his present
+necessities. £200 of this he also sent to Harriet to pay her debts. The
+next few entries in the journal were, however, written before this event.
+
+ _Thursday, January 5_ (Mary).--Go to breakfast at Hogg's; Shelley
+ leaves us there and goes to Hume's. When he returns we go to Newman
+ Street; see the statue of Theoclea; it is a divinity that raises your
+ mind to all virtue and excellence; I never beheld anything half so
+ wonderfully beautiful. Return home very ill. Expect Hogg in the
+ evening, but he does not come. Too ill to read.
+
+ _Friday, January 6._--Walk to Mrs. Peacock's with Clara. Walk with
+ Hogg to Theoclea; she is ten thousand times more beautiful to-day than
+ ever; tear ourselves away. Return to Nelson Square; no one at home.
+ Hogg stays a short time with me. Shelley had stayed at home till 2 to
+ see Ryan;[14] he does not come. Goes out about business. In the
+ evening Shelley and Clara go to Garnerin's.... Very unwell. Hogg
+ comes. Shelley and Clara return at ten. Conversation as usual. Shelley
+ reads "Ode to France" aloud, and repeats the poem to "Tranquillity."
+ Talk with Shelley afterwards for some time; at length go to sleep.
+ Shelley goes out and sits in the other room till 5; I then call him.
+ Talk. Shelley goes to sleep; at 8 Shelley rises and goes out.
+
+The next entry is made during Shelley's short absence in Sussex, after his
+grandfather's death. Clara had accompanied him on his journey.
+
+ _(Date between January 7 and January 13)._--Letter from Peacock to say
+ that he is in prison.... His debt is £40.... Write to Peacock and
+ send him £2. Hogg dines with me and spends the evening; letter from
+ Hookham.
+
+ _Friday, January 13._--A letter from Clara. While I am at breakfast
+ Shelley and Clara arrive. The will has been opened, and Shelley is
+ referred to Whitton. His father would not allow him to enter Field
+ Place; he sits before the door and reads _Comus_. Dr. Blocksome comes
+ out; tells him that his father is very angry with him. Sees my name in
+ Milton.... Hogg dines, and spends the evening with us.
+
+ _Sunday, January 24._--In the evening Shelley, Clara, and Hogg sleep.
+ Read Gibbon.... Hogg goes at half-past 11. Shelley and Clara explain
+ as usual.
+
+ _Monday, January 30._--Work all day. Shelley reads Livy. In the
+ evening Shelley reads _Paradise Regained_ aloud, and then goes to
+ sleep. Hogg comes at 9. Talk and work. Hogg sleeps here.
+
+ _Wednesday, February 1._--Read Gibbon (end of vol. i.) Shelley reads
+ Livy in the evening. Work. Shelley and Clara sleep. Hogg comes and
+ sleeps here. Mrs. Hill calls.
+
+ _Sunday, February 5._--Read Gibbon. Take a long walk in Kensington
+ Gardens and the Park; meet Clairmont as we return, and hear that my
+ father wishes to see a copy of the codicil, because he thinks Shelley
+ is acting rashly. All this is very odd and inconsistent, but I never
+ quarrel with inconsistency; folks must change their minds. After
+ dinner talk. Shelley finishes Gibbon's _Memoirs_ aloud. Clara,
+ Shelley, and Hogg sleep. Read Gibbon. Shelley writes to Longdill and
+ Clairmont. Hogg ill, but we cannot persuade him to stay; he goes at
+ half-past 11.
+
+ _Wednesday, February 8._--Ash Wednesday. So Hogg stays all day. We are
+ to move to-day, so Shelley and Clara go out to look for lodgings. Hogg
+ and I pack, and then talk. Shelley and Clara do not return till 3;
+ they have not succeeded; go out again; they get apartments at Hans
+ Place; move. In the evening talk and read Gibbon. Letters. Pike calls;
+ insolent plague. Hogg goes at half-past 11.
+
+ _Tuesday, February 14_ (Shelley).--Shelley goes to Longdill's and
+ Hayward's, and returns feverish and fatigued. Maie finishes the third
+ volume of Gibbon. All unwell in the evening. Hogg comes and puts us to
+ bed. Hogg goes at half-past 11.
+
+In this month, probably on the 22d (but that page of the diary is torn),
+when they had been hardly more than a week in their last new lodgings, a
+little girl was born. Although her confinement was premature, Mary had a
+favourable time; the infant, a scarcely seven months' child, was not
+expected to live; it survived, however, for some days. It might possibly
+have been saved, had it had an ordinary chance of life given it, but, on
+the ninth day of its existence, the whole family moved yet again to new
+lodgings. How the young mother ever recovered from the fatigues, risks,
+and worries she had to go through at this critical time may well be
+wondered. It is more than probable that the unreasonable demands made on
+her strength and courage during this month and those which preceded it
+laid the foundation of much weak health later on. The child was
+sacrificed. Four days after the move it was found in the morning dead by
+its mother's side. The poor little thing was a mere passing episode in
+Shelley's troubled, hurried existence. Only to Mary were its birth and
+death a deep and permanent experience. Apart from her love for Shelley,
+her affections had been chiefly of the intellectual kind, and even in her
+relation with him mental affinity had played a great part. A new chord in
+her temperament was set vibrating by the advent of this baby, the maternal
+one, quite absent from her disposition before, and which was to assert
+itself at last as the keynote of her nature.
+
+Hogg, who was almost constantly with them at this time, seems to have been
+kind, helpful, and sympathetic.
+
+The baby's birth was too much for Fanny Godwin's endurance and fortitude.
+Up to this time she had, in accordance with what she conceived to be her
+duty, held aloof from the Shelleys, but, the barrier once broken down, she
+came repeatedly to see them. Mrs. Godwin showed that she had a soft spot
+in her heart by sending Mary, through Fanny, a present of linen, no doubt
+most welcome at this unprepared-for crisis. Beyond this she was
+unrelenting. Her pride, however, was not so strong as her feminine
+curiosity, which she indulged still by parading before the windows and
+trying to get peeps at the people behind them. She was annoyed with Fanny,
+who now, however, held her own course, feeling that her duty could not be
+all on one side while her family consented to be dependent, and that every
+moment of her father's peace and safety were due entirely to this Shelley
+whom he would not see.
+
+ _Journal, February 22_ (Shelley) (after the baby's birth).--Maie
+ perfectly well and at ease. The child is not quite seven months; the
+ child not expected to live. Shelley sits up with Maie, much exhausted
+ and agitated. Hogg sleeps here.
+
+ _Thursday, February 23._--Mary quite well; the child unexpectedly
+ alive, but still not expected to live. Hogg returns in the evening at
+ half-past 7. Shelley writes to Fanny requesting her to come and see
+ Maie. Fanny comes and remains the whole night, the Godwins being
+ absent from home. Charles comes at 11 with linen from Mrs. Godwin.
+ Hogg departs at 11. £30 from Longdill.
+
+ _Friday, February 24._--Maie still well; favourable symptoms in the
+ child; we may indulge some hopes. Hogg calls at 2. Fanny departs. Dr.
+ Clarke calls; confirms our hopes of the child. Shelley finishes second
+ volume of Livy, p. 657. Hogg comes in the evening. Shelley very unwell
+ and exhausted.
+
+ _Saturday, February 25._--The child very well; Maie very well also;
+ drawing milk all day. Shelley is very unwell.
+
+ _Sunday, February 26_ (Mary).--Maie rises to-day. Hogg comes; talk;
+ she goes to bed at 6. Hogg calls at the lodgings we have taken. Read
+ _Corinne_. Shelley and Clara go to sleep. Hogg returns; talk with him
+ till past 11. He goes. Shelley and Clara go down to tea. Just settling
+ to sleep when a knock comes to the door; it is Fanny; she came to see
+ how we were; she stays talking till half-past 3, and then leaves the
+ room that Shelley and Mary may sleep. Shelley has a spasm.
+
+ _Monday, February 27._--Rise; talk and read _Corinne_. Hogg comes in
+ the evening. Shelley and Clara go out about a cradle....
+
+ _Tuesday, February 28._--I come downstairs; talk, nurse the baby, read
+ _Corinne_, and work. Shelley goes to Pemberton about his health.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 1._--Nurse the baby, read _Corinne_, and work.
+ Shelley and Clara out all morning. In the evening Peacock comes. Talk
+ about types, editions, and Greek letters all the evening. Hogg comes.
+ They go away at half-past 11. Bonaparte invades France.
+
+ _Thursday, March 2._--A bustle of moving. Read _Corinne_. I and my
+ baby go about 3. Shelley and Clara do not come till 6. Hogg comes in
+ the evening.
+
+ _Friday, March 3._--Nurse my baby; talk, and read _Corinne_. Hogg
+ comes in the evening.
+
+ _Saturday, March 4._--Read, talk, and nurse. Shelley reads the _Life
+ of Chaucer_. Hogg comes in the evening and sleeps.
+
+ _Sunday, March 5._--Shelley and Clara go to town. Hogg here all day.
+ Read _Corinne_ and nurse my baby. In the evening talk. Shelley
+ finishes the _Life of Chaucer_. Hogg goes at 11.
+
+ _Monday, March 6._--Find my baby dead. Send for Hogg. Talk. A
+ miserable day. In the evening read _Fall of the Jesuits_. Hogg sleeps
+ here.
+
+ _Tuesday, March 7._--Shelley and Clara go after breakfast to town.
+ Write to Fanny. Hogg stays all day with us; talk with him, and read
+ the _Fall of the Jesuits_ and _Rinaldo Rinaldini_. Not in good
+ spirits. Hogg goes at 11. A fuss. To bed at 3.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 8._--Finish _Rinaldini_. Talk with Shelley. In very
+ bad spirits, but get better; sleep a little in the day. In the evening
+ net. Hogg comes; he goes at half-past 11. Clara has written for Fanny,
+ but she does not come.
+
+ _Thursday, March 9._--Read and talk. Still think about my little baby.
+ 'Tis hard, indeed, for a mother to lose a child. Hogg and Charles
+ Clairmont come in the evening. C. C. goes at 11. Hogg stays all night.
+ Read Fontenelle, _Plurality of Worlds_.
+
+ _Friday, March 10._--Hogg's holidays begin. Shelley, Hogg, and Clara
+ go to town. Hogg comes back soon. Talk and net. Hogg now remains with
+ us. Put the room to rights.
+
+ _Saturday, March 11._--Very unwell. Hogg goes to town. Talk about
+ Clara's going away; nothing settled; I fear it is hopeless. She will
+ not go to Skinner Street; then our house is the only remaining place,
+ I see plainly. What is to be done? Hogg returns. Talk, and Hogg reads
+ the _Life of Goldoni_ aloud.
+
+ _Sunday, March 4._--Talk a great deal. Not well, but better. Very
+ quiet all the morning, and happy, for Clara does not get up till 4. In
+ the evening read Gibbon, fourth volume; go to bed at 12.
+
+ _Monday, March 13._--Shelley and Clara go to town. Stay at home; net,
+ and think of my little dead baby. This is foolish, I suppose; yet,
+ whenever I am left alone to my own thoughts, and do not read to divert
+ them, they always come back to the same point--that I was a mother,
+ and am so no longer. Fanny comes, wet through; she dines, and stays
+ the evening; talk about many things; she goes at half-past 9. Cut out
+ my new gown.
+
+ _Tuesday, March 14._--Shelley calls on Dr. Pemberton. Net till
+ breakfast. Shelley reads _Religio Medici_ aloud, after Hogg has gone
+ to town. Work; finish Hogg's purse. Shelley and I go upstairs and talk
+ of Clara's going; the prospect appears to me more dismal than ever;
+ not the least hope. This is, indeed, hard to bear. In the evening Hogg
+ reads Gibbon to me. Charles Clairmont comes in the evening.
+
+ _Sunday, March 19._--Dream that my little baby came to life again;
+ that it had only been cold, and that we rubbed it before the fire, and
+ it lived. Awake and find no baby. I think about the little thing all
+ day. Not in good spirits. Shelley is very unwell. Read Gibbon. Charles
+ Clairmont comes. Hogg goes to town till dinner-time. Talk with Charles
+ Clairmont about Skinner Street. They are very badly off there. I am
+ afraid nothing can be done to save them. C. C. says that he shall go
+ to America; this I think a rather wild project in the Clairmont style.
+ Play a game of chess with Clara. In the evening Shelley and Hogg play
+ at chess. Shelley and Clara walk part of the way with Charles
+ Clairmont. Play chess with Hogg, and then read Gibbon.
+
+ _Monday, March 20._--Dream again about my baby. Work after breakfast,
+ and then go with Shelley, Hogg, and Clara to Bullock's Museum; spend
+ the morning there. Return and find more letters for A. Z.--one from a
+ "Disconsolate Widow."[15]
+
+ _Wednesday, March 22._--Talk, and read the papers. Read Gibbon all
+ day. Charles Clairmont calls about Shelley lending £100. We do not
+ return a decisive answer.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Thursday, March 23._--Read Gibbon. Shelley reads Livy. Walk with
+ Shelley and Hogg to Arundel Street. Read _Le Diable Boiteux_. Hear
+ that Bonaparte has entered Paris. As we come home, meet my father and
+ Charles Clairmont.... C. C. calls; he tells us that Papa saw us, and
+ that he remarked that Shelley was so beautiful, it was a pity he was
+ so wicked.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Tuesday, March 28._--Work in the morning and then walk out to look at
+ house.
+
+ _Saturday, April 8._--Peacock comes at breakfast-time; Hogg and he go
+ to town. Read _L'Esprit des Nations_. Settle to go to Virginia Water.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Sunday, April 9._--Rise at 8. Charles Clairmont comes to breakfast at
+ 10. Read some lines of Ovid before breakfast; after, walk with
+ Shelley, Hogg, Clara, and C. C. to pond in Kensington Gardens; return
+ about 2. C. C. goes to Skinner Street. Read Ovid with Hogg (finish
+ second fable). Shelley reads Gibbon and _Pastor Fido_ with Clara. In
+ the evening read _L'Esprit des Nations_. Shelley reads Gibbon, _Pastor
+ Fido_, and the story of Myrrha in Ovid.
+
+ _Monday, April 10._--Read Voltaire before breakfast. After breakfast
+ work. Shelley passes the morning with Harriet, who is in a
+ surprisingly good humour. Mary reads third fable of Ovid: Shelley and
+ Clara read _Pastor Fido_. Shelley reads Gibbon. Mrs. Godwin after
+ dinner parades before the windows. Talk in the evening with Hogg
+ about mountains and lakes and London.
+
+ _Tuesday, April 11._--Work in the morning. Receive letters from
+ Skinner Street to say that Mamma had gone away in the pet, and had
+ stayed out all night. Read fourth and fifth fables of Ovid.... After
+ tea, work. Charles Clairmont comes.
+
+ _Saturday, April 15._--Read Ovid till 3. Shelley and Clara finish
+ _Pastor Fido_, and then go out about Clara's lottery ticket; draws.
+ Clara's ticket comes up a prize. She buys two desks after dinner. Read
+ Ovid (ninety-five lines). Shelley and Clara begin _Orlando Furioso_. A
+ very grim dream.
+
+ _Friday, April 21._--After breakfast go with Shelley to Peacock's.
+ Shelley goes to Longdill's. Read third canto of the _Lord of the
+ Isles_. Return about 2. Shelley goes to Harriet to procure his son,
+ who is to appear in one of the courts. After dinner look over W. W.'s
+ poems. After tea read forty lines of Ovid. Fanny comes and gives us an
+ account of Hogan's threatened arrest of my Father. Shelley walks home
+ part of the way with her. Very sleepy. Shelley reads one canto of
+ Ariosto.
+
+ _Saturday, April 22._--Read a little of Ovid. Shelley goes to
+ Harriet's about his son. Work. Fanny comes. Shelley returns at 4; he
+ has been much teased with Harriet. He has been to Longdill's,
+ Whitton's, etc., and at length has got a promise that he shall appear
+ Monday. After dinner Fanny goes. Read sixty lines of Ovid. Shelley and
+ Clara read to the middle of the fourteenth canto of Ariosto.
+
+Shortly after this several leaves of the journal are lost.
+
+ _Friday, May 5._--After breakfast to Marshall's,[16] but do not see
+ him. Go to the Tomb. Shelley goes to Longdill's. Return soon. Read
+ Spenser; construe Ovid.... After dinner talk with Shelley; then
+ Shelley and Clara go out.... Fanny comes; she tells us of Marshall's
+ servant's death. Papa is to see Mrs. Knapp to-morrow. Read Spenser.
+ Walk home with Fanny and with Shelley.... Shelley reads Seneca.
+
+ _Monday, May 8._--Go out with Shelley to Mrs. Knapp; not at home. Buy
+ Shelley a pencil-case. Return at 1. Read Spenser. Go again with
+ Shelley to Mrs. Knapp; she cannot take Clara. Read Spenser after
+ dinner. Clara goes out with Shelley. Talk with Jefferson (Hogg); write
+ to Marshall. Read Spenser. They return at 8. Very tired; go to bed
+ early. Jefferson scolds.
+
+ _Wednesday, May 10._--Not very well; rise late. Walk to Marshall's,
+ and talk with him for an hour. Go with Jefferson and Shelley to
+ British Museum--attend most to the statues; return at 2. Construe
+ Ovid. After dinner construe Ovid (100 lines); finish second book of
+ Spenser, and read two cantos of the third. Shelley reads Seneca every
+ day and all day.
+
+ _Friday, May 12._--Not very well. After breakfast read Spenser.
+ Shelley goes out with his friend; he returns first. Construe Ovid (90
+ lines); read Spenser. Jefferson returns at half-past 4, and tells us
+ that poor Sawyer is to be hung. These blessed laws! After dinner read
+ Spenser. Read over the Ovid to Jefferson, and construe about ten lines
+ more. Read Spenser. Shelley and the lady walk out. After tea, talk;
+ write Greek characters. Shelley and his friend have a last
+ conversation.
+
+ _Saturday, May 13._--Clara goes; Shelley walks with her. C. C. comes
+ to breakfast; talk. Shelley goes out with him. Read Spenser all day
+ (finish Canto 8, Book V.) Jefferson does not come till 5. Get very
+ anxious about Shelley; go out to meet him; return; it rains. Shelley
+ returns at half-past 6; the business is finished. After dinner Shelley
+ is very tired, and goes to sleep. Read Ovid (60 lines). C. C. comes to
+ tea. Talk of pictures.
+
+ (Mary).--A tablespoonful of the spirit of aniseed, with a small
+ quantity of spermaceti.
+
+ (Shelley)--9 drops of human blood, 7 grains of gunpowder, 1/2 oz. of
+ putrified brain, 13 mashed grave worms--the Pecksie's doom salve.
+
+ The Maie and her Elfin Knight.
+
+ I begin a new journal with our regeneration.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+MAY 1815-SEPTEMBER 1816
+
+
+"Our regeneration" meant, in other words, the departure of Jane or "Clara"
+Clairmont who, on the plea of needing change of air, went off by herself
+into cottage lodgings at Lynmouth, in North Devon. She had never shown any
+very great desire to go back to her family in Skinner Street, but even had
+it been otherwise, objections had now been raised to her presence there
+which made her return difficult if not impossible. Fanny Godwin's aunts,
+Everina Wollstonecraft and Mrs. Bishop, were Principals of a select
+Ladies' School in Dublin, and intended that, on their own retirement,
+their niece should succeed them in its management. They strongly objected
+now to her associating with Miss Clairmont, pointing out that, even if her
+morals were not injured, her professional prospects must be marred by the
+fact being generally known of her connection and companionship with a girl
+who undoubtedly had run away from home, and who was, untruly but not
+groundlessly, reported to be concerned in a notorious scandal.
+
+Her continued presence in the Shelley household, a thing probably never
+contemplated at the time of their hurried flight, was manifestly
+undesirable, on many grounds. To Mary it was a perpetual trial, and must,
+in the end, have tended towards disagreement between her and Shelley,
+while it put Clara herself at great and unjust social disadvantage. Not
+that she heeded that, or regretted the barrier that divided her from
+Skinner Street, where poverty and anxiety and gloom reigned paramount, and
+where she would have been watched with ceaseless and unconcealed
+suspicion. She had heard that her relations had even discussed the
+advisability of immuring her in a convent if she could be caught,--but she
+did not mean to be caught. She advertised for a situation as companion;
+nothing, however, came of this. An idea of sending her to board in the
+family of a Mrs. Knapp seems to have been entertained for some months both
+by Godwins and Shelleys, Charles Clairmont probably acting as a medium
+between the two households. But, after appearing well disposed at first,
+Mrs. Knapp thought better of the plan. She did not want, and would not
+have Clara. The final project, that of the Lynmouth lodgings, was a sudden
+idea, suddenly carried out, and devised with the Shelleys independently
+of the Godwins, who were not consulted, nor even informed, until it had
+been put into execution. So much is to be gathered from the letter which
+Clara wrote to Fanny a fortnight after her arrival.
+
+ CLARA TO FANNY.
+
+ _Sunday, 28th May 1815._
+
+ MY DEAR FANNY--Mary writes me that you thought me unkind in not
+ letting you know before my departure; indeed, I meant no unkindness,
+ but I was afraid if I told you that it might prevent my putting a plan
+ into execution which I preferred before all the Mrs. Knapps in the
+ world. Here I am at liberty; there I should have been under a
+ perpetual restraint. Mrs. Knapp is a forward, impertinent, superficial
+ woman. Here there are none such; a few cottages, with little,
+ rosy-faced children, scolding wives, and drunken husbands. I wish I
+ had a more amiable and romantic picture to present to you, such as
+ shepherds and shepherdesses, flocks and madrigals; but this is the
+ truth, and the truth is best at all times. I live in a little cottage,
+ with jasmine and honeysuckle twining over the window; a little
+ downhill garden full of roses, with a sweet arbour. There are only two
+ gentlemen's seats here, and they are both absent. The walks and
+ shrubberies are quite open, and are very delightful. Mr. Foote's
+ stands at top of the hill, and commands distant views of the whole
+ country. A green tottering bridge, flung from rock to rock, joins his
+ garden to his house, and his side of the bridge is a waterfall. One
+ tumbles directly down, and then flows gently onward, while the other
+ falls successively down five rocks, and seems like water running down
+ stone steps. I will tell you, so far, that it is a valley I live in,
+ and perhaps one you may have seen. Two ridges of mountains enclose the
+ village, which is situated at the west end. A river, which you may
+ step over, runs at the foot of the mountains, and trees hang so
+ closely over, that when on a high eminence you sometimes lose sight of
+ it for a quarter of a mile. One ridge of hills is entirely covered
+ with luxuriant trees, the opposite line is entirely bare, with long
+ pathways of slate and gray rocks, so that you might almost fancy they
+ had once been volcanic. Well, enough of the valleys and the mountains.
+
+ You told me you did not think I should ever be able to live alone. If
+ you knew my constant tranquillity, how cheerful and gay I am, perhaps
+ you would alter your opinion. I am perfectly happy. After so much
+ discontent, such violent scenes, such a turmoil of passion and hatred,
+ you will hardly believe how enraptured I am with this dear little
+ quiet spot. I am as happy when I go to bed as when I rise. I am never
+ disappointed, for I know the extent of my pleasures; and let it rain
+ or let it be fair weather, it does not disturb my serene mood. This is
+ happiness; this is that serene and uninterrupted rest I have long
+ wished for. It is in solitude that the powers concentre round the
+ soul, and teach it the calm, determined path of virtue and wisdom. Did
+ you not find this--did you not find that the majestic and tranquil
+ mountains impressed deep and tranquil thoughts, and that everything
+ conspired to give a sober temperature of mind, more truly delightful
+ and satisfying than the gayest ebullitions of mirth?
+
+ The foaming cataract and tall rock
+ Haunt me like a passion.
+
+ Now for a little chatting. I was quite delighted to hear that Papa had
+ at last got £1000. Riches seem to fly from genius. I suppose, for a
+ month or two, you will be easy--pray be cheerful. I begin to think
+ there is no situation without its advantages. You may learn wisdom and
+ fortitude in adversity, and in prosperity you may relieve and soothe.
+ I feel anxious to be wise; to be capable of knowing the best; of
+ following resolutely, however painful, what mature and serious thought
+ may prescribe; and of acquiring a prompt and vigorous judgment, and
+ powers capable of execution. What are you reading? Tell Charles, with
+ my best love, that I will never forgive him for having disappointed
+ me of Wordsworth, which I miss very much. Ask him, likewise, to lend
+ me his Coleridge's poems, which I will take great care of. How is dear
+ Willy? How is every one? If circumstances get easy, don't you think
+ Papa and Mamma will go down to the seaside to get up their health a
+ little? Write me a very long letter, and tell me everything. How is
+ your health? Now do not be melancholy; for heaven's sake be cheerful;
+ so young in life, and so melancholy! The moon shines in at my window,
+ there is a roar of waters, and the owls are hooting. How often do I
+ not wish for a curfew!--"swinging slow with sullen roar!" Pray write
+ to me. Do, there's a good Fanny.--Affectionately yours,
+
+ M. J. CLAIRMONT.
+
+ Miss Fanny Godwin,
+ 41 Skinner Street, Snow Hill, London.
+
+How long this delightful life of solitude lasted is not exactly known. For
+a year after this time both Clara's journal and that of Shelley and Mary
+are lost, and the next thing we hear of Clara is her being in town in the
+spring of 1816, when she first made Lord Byron's acquaintance.
+
+Mary, at any rate, enjoyed nearly a year of comparative peace and
+_tête-à-tête_ with Shelley, which, after all she had gone through, must
+have been happiness indeed. Had she known that it was the only year she
+would ever pass with him without the presence of a third person, it may be
+that--although her loyalty to Shelley stood every test--her heart might
+have sunk within her. But, happily for her, she could not foresee this.
+Her letter from Clifton shows that Clara's shadow haunted her at times.
+Still she was happy, and at peace. Her health, too, was better; and,
+though always weighed down by Godwin's anxieties, she and Shelley were,
+themselves, free for once from the pinch of actual penury and the
+perpetual fear of arrest.
+
+In June they made a tour in South Devon, and very probably paid Clara a
+visit in her rural retirement; after which Mary stayed for some time at
+Clifton, while Shelley travelled about looking for a country house to suit
+them. It was during one of his absences that Mary wrote to him the letter
+referred to above.
+
+ MARY TO SHELLEY.
+
+ CLIFTON, _27th July 1815_.
+
+ MY BELOVED SHELLEY--What I am now going to say is not a freak from a
+ fit of low spirits, but it is what I earnestly entreat you to attend
+ to and comply with.
+
+ We ought not to be absent any longer; indeed we ought not. I am not
+ happy at it. When I retire to my room, no sweet love; after dinner, no
+ Shelley; though I have heaps of things _very particular_ to say; in
+ fine, either you must come back, or I must come to you directly. You
+ will say, shall we neglect taking a house--a dear home? No, my love, I
+ would not for worlds give up that; but I know what seeking for a house
+ is, and, trust me, it is a very, _very_ long job, too long for one
+ love to undertake in the absence of the other. Dearest, I know how it
+ will be; we shall both of us be put off, day after day, with the hopes
+ of the success of the next day's search, for I am frightened to think
+ how long. Do you not see it in this light, my own love? We have been
+ now a long time separated, and a house is not yet in sight; and even
+ if you should fix on one, which I do not hope for in less than a
+ week, then the settling, etc. Indeed, my love, I cannot bear to remain
+ so long without you; so, if you will not give me leave, expect me
+ without it some day; and, indeed, it is very likely that you may, for
+ I am quite sick of passing day after day in this hopeless way.
+
+ Pray, is Clara with you? for I have inquired several times and no
+ letters; but, seriously, it would not in the least surprise me, if you
+ have written to her from London, and let her know that you are without
+ me, that she should have taken some such freak.
+
+ The Dormouse has hid the brooch; and, pray, why am I for ever and ever
+ to be denied the sight of my case? Have you got it in your own
+ possession? or where is it? It would give me very great pleasure if
+ you would send it me. I hope you have not already appropriated it, for
+ if you have I shall think it un-Pecksie of you, as Maie was to give it
+ you with her own hands on your birthday; but it is of little
+ consequence, for I have no hope of seeing you on that day; but I am
+ mistaken, for I have hope and certainty, for if you are not here on or
+ before the 3d of August, I set off on the 4th, in early coach, so as
+ to be with you in the evening of that dear day at least.
+
+ To-morrow is the 28th of July. Dearest, ought we not to have been
+ together on that day? Indeed we ought, my love, as I shall shed some
+ tears to think we are not. Do not be angry, dear love; your Pecksie is
+ a good girl, and is quite well now again, except a headache, when she
+ waits so anxiously for her love's letters.
+
+ Dearest, best Shelley, pray come to me; pray, pray do not stay away
+ from me! This is delightful weather, and you better, we might have a
+ delightful excursion to Tintern Abbey. My dear, dear love, I most
+ earnestly, and with tearful eyes, beg that I may come to you if you do
+ not like to leave the searches after a house.
+
+ It is a long time to wait, even for an answer. To-morrow may bring you
+ news, but I have no hope, for you only set off to look after one in
+ the afternoon, and what can be done at that hour of the day? You
+ cannot.
+
+They finally settled on a house at Bishopsgate just outside Windsor Park,
+where they passed several months of tranquillity and comparative health;
+perhaps the most peacefully happy time that Shelley had ever known or was
+ever to know. Shadows he, too, had to haunt him, but he was young, and the
+reaction from the long-continued strain of anxiety, fear, discomfort, and
+ill-health was so strong that it is no wonder if he yielded himself up to
+its influence. The summer was warm and dry, and most of the time was
+passed out of doors. They visited the source of the Thames, making the
+voyage in a wherry from Windsor to Cricklade. Charles Clairmont was of the
+party, and Peacock also, who gives a humorous account of the expedition,
+and of the cure he effected of Shelley's ailments by his prescription of
+"three mutton chops, well peppered." Shelley was at this time a strict
+vegetarian. Mary, Peacock says, kept a diary of the excursion, which,
+however, has been lost. Shelley's "Stanzas in the churchyard of Lechlade"
+were an enduring memento of the occasion. At Bishopsgate, under the oak
+shades of Windsor Great Park, he composed _Alastor_, the first mature
+production of his genius, and at Bishopsgate Mary's son William was born,
+on 24th January 1816.
+
+The list of books read during 1815 by Shelley and Mary is worth
+appending, as giving some idea of their wonderful mental activity and
+insatiable thirst for knowledge, and the singular sympathy which existed
+between them in these intellectual pursuits.
+
+ LIST OF BOOKS READ IN 1815.
+
+ MARY.
+
+ _Those marked * Shelley read also._
+
+ Posthumous Works. 3 vols.
+ Sorrows of Werter.
+ Don Roderick. By Southey.
+ *Gibbon's Decline and Fall 12 vols.
+ *Gibbon's Life and Letters. 1st Edition. 2 vols.
+ *Lara.
+ New Arabian Knights. 3 vols.
+ Corinna.
+ Fall of the Jesuits.
+ Rinaldo Rinaldini.
+ Fontenelle's Plurality of Worlds.
+ Hermsprong.
+ Le Diable Boiteux.
+ Man as he is.
+ Rokeby.
+ Ovid's Metamorphoses in Latin.
+ *Wordsworth's Poems.
+ *Spenser's Fairy Queen.
+ *Life of the Phillips.
+ *Fox's History of James II.
+ The Reflector.
+ Fleetwood.
+ Wieland.
+ Don Carlos.
+ *Peter Wilkins.
+ Rousseau's Confessions.
+ Leonora: a Poem.
+ Emile.
+ *Milton's Paradise Lost.
+ *Life of Lady Hamilton.
+ De l'Allemagne. By Madame de Staël.
+ Three vols, of Barruet.
+ *Caliph Vathek.
+ Nouvelle Heloise.
+ *Kotzebue's Account of his Banishment to Siberia.
+ Waverley.
+ Clarissa Harlowe.
+ Robertson's History of America.
+ *Virgil.
+ *Tale of a Tub.
+ *Milton's Speech on Unlicensed Printing.
+ *Curse of Kehama.
+ *Madoc.
+ La Bible Expliquée.
+ Lives of Abelard and Heloise.
+ *The New Testament.
+ *Coleridge's Poems.
+ First vol. of Système de la Nature.
+ Castle of Indolence.
+ Chatterton's Poems.
+ *Paradise Regained.
+ Don Carlos.
+ *Lycidas.
+ *St. Leon.
+ Shakespeare's Plays (part of which Shelley read aloud).
+ *Burke's Account of Civil Society.
+ *Excursion.
+ Pope's Homer's Illiad.
+ *Sallust.
+ Micromejas.
+ *Life of Chaucer.
+ Canterbury Tales.
+ Peruvian Letters.
+ Voyages round the World.
+ Plutarch's Lives.
+ *Two vols, of Gibbon.
+ Ormond.
+ Hugh Trevor.
+ *Labaume's History of the Russian War.
+ Lewis's Tales.
+ Castle of Udolpho.
+ Guy Mannering.
+ *Charles XII by Voltaire.
+ Tales of the East.
+
+
+ SHELLEY.
+
+ Pastor Fido.
+ Orlando Furioso.
+ Livy's History.
+ Seneca's Works.
+ Tasso's Gerusalemme Liberata.
+ Tasso's Aminta.
+ Two vols. of Plutarch in Italian.
+ Some of the Plays of Euripides.
+ Seneca's Tragedies.
+ Reveries of Rousseau.
+ Hesoid.
+ Novum Organum.
+ Alfieri's Tragedies.
+ Theocritus.
+ Ossian.
+ Herodotus.
+ Thucydides.
+ Homer.
+ Locke on the Human Understanding.
+ Conspiration de Rienzi.
+ History of Arianism.
+ Ockley's History of the Saracens.
+ Madame de Staël sur la Literature.
+
+These months of rest were needed to fit them for the year of shocks, of
+blows, of conflicting emotions which was to follow. As usual, the first
+disturbing cause was Clara Clairmont. Early in 1816 she was in town,
+possibly with her brother Charles, with whom she kept up correspondence,
+and with whom (thanks to funds provided by Shelley) she had in the autumn
+been travelling, or paying visits. She now started one of her "wild
+projects in the Clairmont style," which brought as its consequence the
+overshadowing of her whole life. She thought she would like to go on the
+stage, and she applied to Lord Byron, then connected with the management
+of Drury Lane Theatre, for some theatrical employment. The fascination of
+Byron's poetry, joined to his very shady social reputation, surrounded him
+with a kind of romantic mystery highly interesting to a wayward, audacious
+young spirit, attracted by anything that excited its curiosity. Clara
+never went on the stage. But she became Byron's mistress. Their connection
+lasted but a short time. Byron quickly tired of her, and when importuned
+with her or her affairs, soon came to look on her with positive antipathy.
+Nothing in Clara's letters to him[17] goes to prove that she was very
+deeply in love with him. The episode was an excitement and an adventure:
+one, to him, of the most trivial nature, but fraught with tragic indirect
+results to her, and, through her, to the Shelleys. They, although they
+knew of her acquaintance with Byron, were in complete and unsuspecting
+ignorance of its intimate nature. It might have been imagined that Clara
+would confide in them, and would even rejoice in doing so. But she had, on
+the contrary, a positive horror and dread of their finding out anything
+about her secret. She told Byron who Mary was, one evening when she knew
+they were to meet, but implored him beforehand to talk only on general
+subjects, and, if possible, not even to mention her name.
+
+This introduction probably took place in March, when Shelley and Mary
+were, for a short time, staying up in town. Shelley was occupied in
+transacting business, which had reference, as usual, to Godwin's affairs.
+A suit in Chancery was proceeding, to enable him to sell, to his father,
+the reversion of a portion of his estates. Short of obtaining this
+permission, he could not assist Godwin to the full extent demanded and
+expected by this latter, who chose to say, and was encouraged by his man
+of business to think that, if Shelley did not get the money, it was owing
+to slackness of effort or inclination on his part. The suit was, however,
+finally decided against Shelley. The correspondence between him and Godwin
+was painful in the highest degree, and must have embittered Mary's
+existence.
+
+Godwin, while leaving no stone unturned to get as much of Shelley's money
+as possible, and while exerting himself with feverish activity to control
+and direct to his own advantage the legal negotiations for disposal of
+part of the Shelley estates, yet declined personal communication with
+Shelley, and wrote to him in insulting terms, carrying sophistry so far as
+to assert that his dignity (save the mark!) would be compromised, not by
+taking Shelley's money, but by taking it in the form of a cheque made out
+in his, Godwin's, own name. Small wonder if Shelley was wounded and
+indignant. More than any one else, Godwin had taught and encouraged him to
+despise what he would have called prejudice.
+
+ "In my judgment," wrote Shelley, "neither I, nor your daughter, nor
+ her offspring, ought to receive the treatment which we encounter on
+ every side. It has perpetually appeared to me to have been your
+ especial duty to see that, so far as mankind value your good opinion,
+ we were dealt justly by, and that a young family, innocent, and
+ benevolent, and united should not be confounded with prostitutes and
+ seducers. My astonishment--and I will confess, when I have been
+ treated with most harshness and cruelty by you, my indignation--has
+ been extreme, that, knowing as you do my nature, any consideration
+ should have prevailed on you to be thus harsh and cruel. I lamented
+ also over my ruined hopes, of all that your genius once taught me to
+ expect from your virtue, when I found that for yourself, your family,
+ and your creditors, you would submit to that communication with me
+ which you once rejected and abhorred, and which no pity for my poverty
+ or sufferings, assumed willingly for you, could avail to extort. Do
+ not talk of _forgiveness_ again to me, for my blood boils in my veins,
+ and my gall rises against all that bears the human form, when I think
+ of what I, their benefactor and ardent lover, have endured of enmity
+ and contempt from you and from all mankind."
+
+That other, ordinary, people should resent his avowed opposition to
+conventional morality was, even to Shelley, less of an enigma than that
+Godwin, from whom he expected support, should turn against him. Yet he
+never could clearly realise the aspect which his relations with Mary bore
+to the world, who merely saw in him a married man who had deserted his
+wife and eloped with a girl of sixteen. He thought people should
+understand all he knew, and credit him with all he did not tell them; that
+they should sympathise and fraternise with him, and honour Mary the more,
+not the less, for what she had done and dared. Instead of this, the world
+accepted his family's estimate of its unfortunate eldest son, and cut him.
+It is no wonder that, as Peacock puts it, "the spirit of restlessness came
+over him again," and drove him abroad once more. His first intention was
+to settle with Mary and their infant child in some remote region of
+Scotland or Northern England. But he was at all times delicate, and he
+longed for balmy air and sunny skies. To these motives were added Clara's
+wishes, and, as she herself states, her pressing solicitations. Byron, she
+knew, was going to Geneva, and she persuaded the Shelleys to go there
+also, in the hope and intention of meeting him. Shelley had read and
+admired several of Byron's poems, and the prospect of possible
+companionship with a kindred mind was now and at all times supremely
+attractive to him. He had made repeated, but fruitless efforts to get a
+personal interview with Godwin, in the hope, probably, of coming to some
+definite understanding as to his hopelessly involved and intricate
+affairs. Godwin went off to Scotland on literary business and was absent
+all April. Before he returned Shelley, Mary, and Clara had started for
+Switzerland. The Shelleys were still ignorant and unsuspecting of the
+intrigue between Byron and Clara. Byron, knowing of Clara's wish to follow
+him to Geneva, enjoined her on no account to come alone or without
+protection, as he knew she was capable of doing; hence her determinate
+wish that the Shelleys should come. She wrote to Byron from Paris to tell
+him that she was so far on her way, accompanied by "the whole tribe of
+Otaheite philosophers," as she styles her friends and escort. Just before
+sailing from Dover Shelley wrote to Godwin, who was still in Scotland,
+telling him finally of the unsuccessful issue to his Chancery suit, of his
+doubtful and limited prospects of income or of ability to pay more than
+£300 for Godwin, and that only some months hence. He referred again to his
+painful position in England, and his present determination to remain
+abroad,--perhaps for ever,--with the exception of a possible, solitary,
+visit to London, should business make this inevitable. He touched on his
+old obligations to Godwin, assuring him of his continued respect and
+admiration in spite of the painful past, and of his regret for any too
+vehement words he might have used.
+
+ It is unfortunate for me that the part of your character which is
+ least excellent should have been met by my convictions of what was
+ right to do. But I have been too indignant, I have been unjust to
+ you--forgive me--burn those letters which contain the records of my
+ violence, and believe that however what you erroneously call fame and
+ honour separate us, I shall always feel towards you as the most
+ affectionate of friends.
+
+The travellers reached Geneva by the middle of May; their arrival
+preceding that of Byron by several days. A letter written by Mary Shelley
+from their first resting-place, the Hôtel de Sécheron, the descriptive
+portions of which were afterwards published by her, with the _Journal of a
+Six Weeks Tour_, gives a graphic account of their journey and their first
+impressions of Geneva.
+
+ HÔTEL DE SÉCHERON, GENEVA,
+ _17th May 1816_.
+
+ We arrived at Paris on the 8th of this month, and were detained two
+ days for the purpose of obtaining the various signatures necessary to
+ our passports, the French Government having become much more
+ circumspect since the escape of Lavalette. We had no letters of
+ introduction, or any friend in that city, and were therefore confined
+ to our hotel, where we were obliged to hire apartments for the week,
+ although, when we first arrived, we expected to be detained one night
+ only; for in Paris there are no houses where you can be accommodated
+ with apartments by the day.
+
+ The manners of the French are interesting, although less attractive,
+ at least to Englishmen, than before the last invasion of the Allies;
+ the discontent and sullenness of their minds perpetually betrays
+ itself. Nor is it wonderful that they should regard the subjects of a
+ Government which fills their country with hostile garrisons, and
+ sustains a detested dynasty on the throne, with an acrimony and
+ indignation of which that Government alone is the proper object. This
+ feeling is honourable to the French, and encouraging to all those of
+ every nation in Europe who have a fellow-feeling with the oppressed,
+ and who cherish an unconquerable hope that the cause of liberty must
+ at length prevail.
+
+ Our route after Paris as far as Troyes lay through the same
+ uninteresting tract of country which we had traversed on foot nearly
+ two years before, but on quitting Troyes we left the road leading to
+ Neufchâtel, to follow that which was to conduct us to Geneva. We
+ entered Dijon on the third evening after our departure from Paris, and
+ passing through Dôle, arrived at Poligny. This town is built at the
+ foot of Jura, which rises abruptly from a plain of vast extent. The
+ rocks of the mountain overhang the houses. Some difficulty in
+ procuring horses detained us here until the evening closed in, when we
+ proceeded by the light of a stormy moon to Champagnolles, a little
+ village situated in the depth of the mountains. The road was
+ serpentine and exceedingly steep, and was overhung on one side by
+ half-distinguished precipices, whilst the other was a gulf, filled by
+ the darkness of the driving clouds. The dashing of the invisible
+ streams announced to us that we had quitted the plains of France, as
+ we slowly ascended amidst a violent storm of wind and rain, to
+ Champagnolles, where we arrived at twelve o'clock the fourth night
+ after our departure from Paris. The next morning we proceeded, still
+ ascending among the ravines and valleys of the mountain. The scenery
+ perpetually grows more wonderful and sublime; pine forests of
+ impenetrable thickness and untrodden, nay, inaccessible expanse spread
+ on every side. Sometimes the dark woods descending follow the route
+ into the valleys, the distorted trees struggling with knotted roots
+ between the most barren clefts; sometimes the road winds high into the
+ regions of frost, and then the forests become scattered, and the
+ branches of the trees are loaded with snow, and half of the enormous
+ pines themselves buried in the wavy drifts. The spring, as the
+ inhabitants informed us, was unusually late, and indeed the cold was
+ excessive; as we ascended the mountains the same clouds which rained
+ on us in the valleys poured forth large flakes of snow thick and fast.
+ The sun occasionally shone through these showers, and illuminated the
+ magnificent ravines of the mountains, whose gigantic pines were, some
+ laden with snow, some wreathed round by the lines of scattered and
+ lingering vapour; others darting their spires into the sunny sky,
+ brilliantly clear and azure.
+
+ As the evening advanced, and we ascended higher, the snow, which we
+ had beheld whitening the overhanging rocks, now encroached upon our
+ road, and it snowed fast as we entered the village of Les Rousses,
+ where we were threatened by the apparent necessity of passing the
+ night in a bad inn and dirty beds. For, from that place there are two
+ roads to Geneva; one by Nion, in the Swiss territory, where the
+ mountain route is shorter and comparatively easy at that time of the
+ year, when the road is for several leagues covered with snow of an
+ enormous depth; the other road lay through Gex, and was too circuitous
+ and dangerous to be attempted at so late an hour in the day. Our
+ passport, however, was for Gex, and we were told that we could not
+ change its destination; but all these police laws, so severe in
+ themselves, are to be softened by bribery, and this difficulty was at
+ length overcome. We hired four horses, and ten men to support the
+ carriage, and departed from Les Rousses at six in the evening, when
+ the sun had already far descended, and the snow pelting against the
+ windows of our carriage assisted the coming darkness to deprive us of
+ the view of the lake of Geneva and the far-distant Alps.
+
+ The prospect around, however, was sufficiently sublime to command our
+ attention--never was scene more awfully desolate. The trees in these
+ regions are incredibly large, and stand in scattered clumps over the
+ white wilderness; the vast expanse of snow was chequered only by these
+ gigantic pines, and the poles that marked our road; no river nor
+ rock-encircled lawn relieved the eye, by adding the picturesque to the
+ sublime. The natural silence of that uninhabited desert contrasted
+ strangely with the voices of the men who conducted us, who, with
+ animated tones and gestures, called to one another in a _patois_
+ composed of French and Italian, creating disturbance where, but for
+ them, there was none. To what a different scene are we now arrived! To
+ the warm sunshine, and to the humming of sun-loving insects. From the
+ windows of our hotel we see the lovely lake, blue as the heavens which
+ it reflects, and sparkling with golden beams. The opposite shore is
+ sloping and covered with vines, which, however, do not so early in the
+ season add to the beauty of the prospect. Gentlemen's seats are
+ scattered over these banks, behind which rise the various ridges of
+ black mountains, and towering far above, in the midst of its snowy
+ Alps, the majestic Mont Blanc, highest and queen of all. Such is the
+ view reflected by the lake; it is a bright summer scene without any of
+ that sacred solitude and deep seclusion that delighted us at Lucerne.
+ We have not yet found out any very agreeable walks, but you know our
+ attachment to water excursions. We have hired a boat, and every
+ evening, at about six o'clock, we sail on the lake, which is
+ delightful, whether we glide over a glassy surface or are speeded
+ along by a strong wind. The waves of this lake never afflict me with
+ that sickness that deprives me of all enjoyment in a sea-voyage; on
+ the contrary, the tossing of our boat raises my spirits and inspires
+ me with unusual hilarity. Twilight here is of short duration, but we
+ at present enjoy the benefit of an increasing moon, and seldom return
+ until ten o'clock, when, as we approach the shore, we are saluted by
+ the delightful scent of flowers and new-mown grass, and the chirp of
+ the grasshoppers, and the song of the evening birds.
+
+ We do not enter into society here, yet our time passes swiftly and
+ delightfully.
+
+ We read Latin and Italian during the heats of noon, and when the sun
+ declines we walk in the garden of the hotel, looking at the rabbits,
+ relieving fallen cockchafers, and watching the motions of a myriad of
+ lizards, who inhabit a southern wall of the garden. You know that we
+ have just escaped from the gloom of winter and of London; and coming
+ to this delightful spot during this divine weather, I feel as happy as
+ a new-fledged bird, and hardly care what twig I fly to, so that I may
+ try my new-found wings. A more experienced bird may be more difficult
+ in its choice of a bower; but, in my present temper of mind, the
+ budding flowers, the fresh grass of spring, and the happy creatures
+ about me that live and enjoy these pleasures, are quite enough to
+ afford me exquisite delight, even though clouds should shut out Mont
+ Blanc from my sight. Adieu!
+
+ M. S.
+
+On the 25th of May Byron, accompanied by his young Italian physician,
+Polidori, and attended by three men-servants, arrived at the Hôtel de
+Sécheron. It was now that he and Shelley became for the first time
+personally acquainted; an acquaintance which, though it never did and
+never could ripen quite into friendship, developed with time and
+circumstances into an association more or less familiar which lasted all
+Shelley's life. After the arrival of the English Milord and his retinue,
+the hotel quarters probably became less quiet and comfortable, and before
+June the Shelleys, with Clare[18] (who, while her secret remained a
+secret, must have found it inexpedient to live under the same roof with
+Byron) moved to a cottage on the other side of the lake, near Coligny;
+known as Maison Chapuis, but sometimes called Campagne Mont Alègre.
+
+ CAMPAGNE CHAPUIS, NEAR COLIGNY,
+ _1st June_.
+
+ You will perceive from my date that we have changed our residence
+ since my last letter. We now inhabit a little cottage on the opposite
+ shore of the lake, and have exchanged the view of Mont Blanc and her
+ snowy _aiguilles_ for the dark frowning Jura, behind whose range we
+ every evening see the sun sink, and darkness approaches our valley
+ from behind the Alps, which are then tinged by that glowing rose-like
+ hue which is observed in England to attend on the clouds of an
+ autumnal sky when daylight is almost gone. The lake is at our feet,
+ and a little harbour contains our boat, in which we still enjoy our
+ evening excursions on the water. Unfortunately we do not now enjoy
+ those brilliant skies that hailed us on our first arrival to this
+ country. An almost perpetual rain confines us principally to the
+ house; but when the sun bursts forth it is with a splendour and heat
+ unknown in England. The thunderstorms that visit us are grander and
+ more terrific than I have ever seen before. We watch them as they
+ approach from the opposite side of the lake, observing the lightning
+ play among the clouds in various parts of the heavens, and dart in
+ jagged figures upon the piny heights of Jura, dark with the shadow of
+ the overhanging clouds, while perhaps the sun is shining cheerily upon
+ us. One night we _enjoyed_ a finer storm than I had ever before
+ beheld. The lake was lit up, the pines on Jura made visible, and all
+ the scene illuminated for an instant, when a pitchy blackness
+ succeeded, and the thunder came in frightful bursts over our heads
+ amid the darkness.
+
+ But while I still dwell on the country around Geneva, you will expect
+ me to say something of the town itself; there is nothing, however, in
+ it that can repay you for the trouble of walking over its rough
+ stones. The houses are high, the streets narrow, many of them on the
+ ascent, and no public building of any beauty to attract your eye, or
+ any architecture to gratify your taste. The town is surrounded by a
+ wall, the three gates of which are shut exactly at ten o'clock, when
+ no bribery (as in France) can open them. To the south of the town is
+ the promenade of the Genevese, a grassy plain planted with a few
+ trees, and called Plainpalais. Here a small obelisk is erected to the
+ glory of Rousseau, and here (such is the mutability of human life) the
+ magistrates, the successors of those who exiled him from his native
+ country, were shot by the populace during that revolution which his
+ writings mainly contributed to mature, and which, notwithstanding the
+ temporary bloodshed and injustice with which it was polluted, has
+ produced enduring benefits to mankind, which not all the chicanery of
+ statesmen, nor even the great conspiracy of kings, can entirely render
+ vain. From respect to the memory of their predecessors, none of the
+ present magistrates ever walk in Plainpalais. Another Sunday
+ recreation for the citizens is an excursion to the top of Mont Salère.
+ This hill is within a league of the town, and rises perpendicularly
+ from the cultivated plain. It is ascended on the other side, and I
+ should judge from its situation that your toil is rewarded by a
+ delightful view of the course of the Rhone and Arne, and of the shores
+ of the lake. We have not yet visited it. There is more equality of
+ classes here than in England. This occasions a greater freedom and
+ refinement of manners among the lower orders than we meet with in our
+ own country. I fancy the haughty English ladies are greatly disgusted
+ with this consequence of republican institutions, for the Genevese
+ servants complain very much of their _scolding_, an exercise of the
+ tongue, I believe, perfectly unknown here. The peasants of Switzerland
+ may not however emulate the vivacity and grace of the French. They are
+ more cleanly, but they are slow and inapt. I know a girl of twenty
+ who, although she had lived all her life among vineyards, could not
+ inform me during what month the vintage took place, and I discovered
+ she was utterly ignorant of the order in which the months succeed one
+ another. She would not have been surprised if I had talked of the
+ burning sun and delicious fruits of December, or of the frosts of
+ July. Yet she is by no means deficient in understanding.
+
+ The Genevese are also much inclined to puritanism. It is true that
+ from habit they dance on a Sunday, but as soon as the French
+ Government was abolished in the town, the magistrates ordered the
+ theatre to be closed, and measures were taken to pull down the
+ building.
+
+ We have latterly enjoyed fine weather, and nothing is more pleasant
+ than to listen to the evening song of the wine-dressers. They are all
+ women, and most of them have harmonious although masculine voices. The
+ theme of their ballads consists of shepherds, love, flocks, and the
+ sons of kings who fall in love with beautiful shepherdesses. Their
+ tunes are monotonous, but it is sweet to hear them in the stillness of
+ evening, while we are enjoying the sight of the setting sun, either
+ from the hill behind our house or from the lake.
+
+ Such are our pleasures here, which would be greatly increased if the
+ season had been more favourable, for they chiefly consist in such
+ enjoyments as sunshine and gentle breezes bestow. We have not yet made
+ any excursion in the environs of the town, but we have planned
+ several, when you shall again hear of us; and we will endeavour, by
+ the magic of words, to transport the ethereal part of you to the
+ neighbourhood of the Alps, and mountain streams, and forests, which,
+ while they clothe the former, darken the latter with their vast
+ shadows.--Adieu!
+
+ M.
+
+Less than a fortnight after this Byron also left the hotel, annoyed beyond
+endurance by the unbounded curiosity of which he was the object. He
+established himself at the Villa Diodati, on the hill above the Shelleys'
+cottage, from which it was separated by a vineyard. Both he and Shelley
+were devoted to boating, and passed much time on the water, on one
+occasion narrowly escaping being drowned. Visits from one house to the
+other were of daily occurrence. The evenings were generally spent at
+Diodati, when the whole party would sit up into the small hours of the
+morning, discussing all possible and impossible things in earth and
+heaven. In temperament Shelley and Byron were indeed radically opposed to
+each other, but the intellectual intercourse of two men, alike condemned
+to much isolation from their kind by their gifts, their dispositions, and
+their misfortunes, could not but be a source of enjoyment to each. Despite
+his deep grain of sarcastic egotism, Byron did justice to Shelley's
+sincerity, simplicity, and purity of nature, and appreciated at their just
+value his mental powers and literary accomplishments. On the other hand,
+Shelley's admiration of Byron's genius was simply unbounded, while he
+apprehended the mixture of gold and clay in Byron's disposition with
+singular acuteness. His was the "pure mind that penetrateth heaven and
+hell." But at Geneva the two men were only finding each other out, and, to
+Shelley at least, any pain arising from difference of feeling or opinion
+was outweighed by the intense pleasure and refreshment of intellectual
+comradeship.
+
+Naturally fond of society, and indeed requiring its stimulus to elicit her
+best powers, Mary yet took a passive rather than an active share in these
+_symposia_. Looking back on them many years afterwards she wrote: "Since
+incapacity and timidity always prevented my mingling in the nightly
+conversations of Diodati, they were, as it were, entirely _tête-à-tête_
+between my Shelley and Albè."[19] But she was a keen, eager listener.
+Nothing escaped her observation, and none of this time was ever
+obliterated from her memory.
+
+To the intellectual ferment, so to speak, of the Diodati evenings, working
+with the new experiences and thoughts of the past two years, is due the
+conception of the story by which, as a writer, she is best remembered, the
+ghastly but powerful allegorical romance of _Frankenstein_. In her
+introduction to a late edition of this work (part of which has already
+been quoted here) Mary Shelley has herself told the history of its origin.
+
+ In the summer of 1816 we visited Switzerland, and became the
+ neighbours of Lord Byron. At first we spent our pleasant hours on the
+ lake, or wandering on its shores, and Lord Byron, who was writing the
+ third canto of _Childe Harold_, was the only one among us who put his
+ thoughts upon paper. These, as he brought them successively to us,
+ clothed in all the light and harmony of poetry, seemed to stamp as
+ divine the glories of heaven and earth, whose influences we partook
+ with him.
+
+ But it proved a wet, ungenial summer, and incessant rain often
+ confined us for days to the house. Some volumes of ghost stories,
+ translated from the German into French, fell into our hands. There was
+ the history of the Inconstant Lover, who, when he thought to clasp the
+ bride to whom he had pledged his vows, found himself in the arms of
+ the pale ghost of her whom he had deserted. There was the tale of the
+ sinful founder of his race, whose miserable doom it was to bestow the
+ kiss of death on all the younger sons of his fated house, just when
+ they reached the age of promise. His gigantic shadowy form, clothed,
+ like the ghost in Hamlet, in complete armour, but with the beaver up,
+ was seen at midnight, by the moon's fitful beams, to advance slowly
+ along the gloomy avenue. The shape was lost beneath the shadow of the
+ castle walls; but soon a gate swung back, a step was heard, the door
+ of the chamber opened, and he advanced to the couch of the blooming
+ youths, cradled in healthy sleep. Eternal sorrow sat upon his face as
+ he bent down and kissed the forehead of the boys, who from that hour
+ withered like flowers snapt upon the stalk. I have not seen these
+ stories since then, but their incidents are as fresh in my mind as if
+ I had read them yesterday. "We will each write a ghost story," said
+ Byron; and his proposition was acceded to. There were four of us. The
+ noble author began a tale, a fragment of which he printed at the end
+ of his poem of Mazeppa. Shelley, more apt to embody ideas and
+ sentiments in the radiance of brilliant imagery, and in the music of
+ the most melodious verse that adorns our language, than to invent the
+ machinery of a story, commenced one founded on the experiences of his
+ early life. Poor Polidori had some terrible idea about a skull-headed
+ lady, who was so punished for peeping through a keyhole--what to see I
+ forget--something very shocking and wrong of course; but when she was
+ reduced to a worse condition than the renowned Tom of Coventry he did
+ not know what to do with her, and he was obliged to despatch her to
+ the tomb of the Capulets, the only place for which she was fitted. The
+ illustrious poets also, annoyed by the platitude of prose, speedily
+ relinquished their ungrateful task. I busied myself to _think of a
+ story_,--a story to rival those which had excited us to this task. One
+ that would speak to the mysterious fears of our nature, and awaken
+ thrilling horror--one to make the reader dread to look round, to
+ curdle the blood and quicken the beatings of the heart. If I did not
+ accomplish these things my ghost story would be unworthy of its name.
+ I thought and wondered--vainly. I felt that blank incapability of
+ invention which is the greatest misery of authorship, when dull
+ Nothing replies to our anxious invocations. "_Have you thought of a
+ story?_" I was asked each morning, and each morning I was forced to
+ reply with a mortifying negative.
+
+ Everything must have a beginning, to speak in Sanchean phrase: and
+ that beginning must be linked to something that went before. The
+ Hindoos give the world an elephant to support it, but they make the
+ elephant stand upon a tortoise. Invention, it must be humbly admitted,
+ does not consist in creating out of void, but out of chaos; the
+ materials must, in the first place, be afforded: it can give form to
+ dark shapeless substances, but cannot bring into being the substance
+ itself. In all matters of discovery and invention, even of those that
+ appertain to the imagination, we are continually reminded of the story
+ of Columbus and his egg. Invention consists in the capacity of seizing
+ on the capabilities of a subject, and in the power of moulding and
+ fashioning ideas suggested to it.
+
+ Many and long were the conversations between Lord Byron and Shelley,
+ to which I was a devout but nearly silent listener. During one of
+ these various philosophical doctrines were discussed, and, among
+ others, the nature of the principle of life, and whether there was any
+ probability of its ever being discovered and communicated. They talked
+ of the experiments of Dr. Darwin (I speak not of what the doctor
+ really did, or said that he did, but, as more to my purpose, of what
+ was then spoken of as having been done by him), who preserved a piece
+ of vermicelli in a glass case till by some extraordinary means it
+ began to move with voluntary motion. Not thus, after all, would life
+ be given. Perhaps a corpse would be reanimated; galvanism had given
+ token of such things; perhaps the component parts of a creature might
+ be manufactured, brought together, and endued with vital warmth.
+
+ Night waned upon this talk, and even the witching hour had gone by,
+ before we retired to rest. When I placed my head upon my pillow I did
+ not sleep, nor could I be said to think. My imagination, unbidden,
+ possessed and guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in
+ my mind with a vividness far beyond the usual bounds of reverie. I
+ saw--with shut eyes, but acute mental vision,--I saw the pale student
+ of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together--I
+ saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the
+ working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an
+ uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely
+ frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the
+ stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world. His success would
+ terrify the artist; he would rush away from his odious handiwork,
+ horrorstricken. He would hope that, left to itself, the slight spark
+ which he had communicated would fade; that this thing, which had
+ received such imperfect animation, would subside into dead matter; and
+ he might sleep in the belief that the silence of the grave would
+ quench for ever the transient existence of the hideous corpse which he
+ had looked upon as the cradle of life. He sleeps; but he is awakened;
+ he opens his eyes; behold the horrid thing stands at his bedside,
+ opening his curtains, and looking on him with yellow, watery, but
+ speculative eyes.
+
+ I opened mine in terror. The idea so possessed my mind that a thrill
+ of fear ran through me, and I wished to exchange the ghastly image of
+ my fancy for the realities around. I see them still; the very room,
+ the dark _parquet_, the closed shutters, with the moonlight struggling
+ through, and the sense I had that the glassy lake and white high Alps
+ were beyond. I could not so easily get rid of my hideous phantom;
+ still it haunted me. I must try to think of something else. I recurred
+ to my ghost story--my tiresome unlucky ghost story. O! if I could only
+ contrive one which would frighten my reader as I myself had been
+ frightened that night!
+
+ Swift as light and as cheering was the idea that broke in upon me. "I
+ have found it! What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only
+ describe the spectre which had haunted my midnight pillow." On the
+ morrow I announced that I had _thought of a story_. I began that day
+ with the words, _It was on a dreary night of November_, making only a
+ transcript of the grim terrors of my waking dream.
+
+ At first I thought of but a few pages--of a short tale; but Shelley
+ urged me to develop the idea at greater length. I certainly did not
+ owe the suggestion of one incident, nor scarcely of one train of
+ feeling, to my husband, and yet, but for his incitement, it would
+ never have taken the form in which it was presented to the world. From
+ this declaration I must except the preface. As far as I can recollect,
+ it was entirely written by him.
+
+Every one now knows the story of the "Modern Prometheus,"--the student
+who, having devoted himself to the search for the principle of life,
+discovers it, manufactures an imitation of a human being, endows it with
+vitality, and having thus encroached on divine prerogative, finds himself
+the slave of his own creature, for he has set in motion a force beyond his
+power to control or annihilate. Aghast at the actual and possible
+consequences of his own achievement, he recoils from carrying it out to
+its ultimate end, and stops short of doing what is necessary to render
+this force independent. The being has, indeed, the perception and desire
+of goodness; but is, by the circumstances of its abnormal existence,
+delivered over to evil, and Frankenstein, and all whom he loves, fall
+victims to its vindictive malice. Surely no girl, before or since, has
+imagined, and carried out to its pitiless conclusion so grim an idea.
+
+Mary began her rough sketch of this story during the absence of Shelley
+and Byron on a voyage round the lake of Geneva; the memorable excursion
+during which Byron wrote the _Prisoner of Chillon_ and great part of the
+third canto of _Childe Harold_, and Shelley conceived the idea of that
+"Hymn to Intellectual Beauty," which may be called his confession of
+faith. When they returned they found Mary hard at work on the fantastic
+speculation which possessed her mind and exerted over it a fascination and
+a power of excitement beyond that of the sublime external nature which
+inspired the two poets.
+
+When, in July, she set off with Shelley and Clare on a short tour to the
+Valley of Chamounix, she took her MS. with her. They visited the Mer de
+Glace, and the source of the Arveiron. The magnificent scenery which
+inspired Shelley with his poem on "Mont Blanc," and is described by Mary
+in the extracts from her journal which follow, served her as a fitting
+background for the most preternatural portions of her romance.
+
+ _Tuesday, July 23_ (Chamounix).--In the morning, after breakfast, we
+ mount our mules to see the source of the Arveiron. When we had gone
+ about three parts of the way, we descended and continued our route on
+ foot, over loose stones, many of which were an enormous size. We came
+ to the source, which lies (like a stage) surrounded on the three sides
+ by mountains and glaciers. We sat on a rock, which formed the fourth,
+ gazing on the scene before us. An immense glacier was on our left,
+ which continually rolled stones to its foot. It is very dangerous to
+ be directly under this. Our guide told us a story of two Hollanders
+ who went, without any guide, into a cavern of the glacier, and fired a
+ pistol there, which drew down a large piece on them. We see several
+ avalanches, some very small, others of great magnitude, which roared
+ and smoked, overwhelming everything as it passed along, and
+ precipitating great pieces of ice into the valley below. This glacier
+ is increasing every day a foot, closing up the valley. We drink some
+ water of the Arveiron and return. After dinner think it will rain, and
+ Shelley goes alone to the glacier of Boison. I stay at home. Read
+ several tales of Voltaire. In the evening I copy Shelley's letter to
+ Peacock.
+
+ _Wednesday, July 24._--To-day is rainy; therefore we cannot go to Col
+ de Balme. About 10 the weather appears clearing up. Shelley and I
+ begin our journey to Montanvert. Nothing can be more desolate than the
+ ascent of this mountain; the trees in many places having been torn
+ away by avalanches, and some half leaning over others, intermingled
+ with stones, present the appearance of vast and dreadful desolation.
+ It began to rain almost as soon as we left our inn. When we had
+ mounted considerably we turned to look on the scene. A dense white
+ mist covered the vale, and tops of scattered pines peeping above were
+ the only objects that presented themselves. The rain continued in
+ torrents. We were wetted to the skin; so that, when we had ascended
+ halfway, we resolved to turn back. As we descended, Shelley went
+ before, and, tripping up, fell upon his knee. This added to the
+ weakness occasioned by a blow on his ascent; he fainted, and was for
+ some minutes incapacitated from continuing his route.
+
+ We arrived wet to the skin. I read _Nouvelles Nouvelles_, and write my
+ story. Shelley writes part of letter.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Saturday, July 27._--It is a most beautiful day, without a cloud. We
+ set off at 12. The day is hot, yet there is a fine breeze. We pass by
+ the Great Waterfall, which presents an aspect of singular beauty. The
+ wind carries it away from the rock, and on towards the north, and the
+ fine spray into which it is entirely dissolved passes before the
+ mountain like a mist.
+
+ The other cascade has very little water, and is consequently not so
+ beautiful as before. The evening of the day is calm and beautiful.
+ Evening is the only time I enjoy travelling. The horses went fast, and
+ the plain opened before us. We saw Jura and the Lake like old friends.
+ I longed to see my pretty babe. At 9, after much inquiring and
+ stupidity, we find the road, and alight at Diodati. We converse with
+ Lord Byron till 12, and then go down to Chapuis, kiss our babe, and go
+ to bed.
+
+Circumstances had modified Shelley's previous intention of remaining
+permanently abroad, and the end of August found him moving homeward.
+
+The following extracts from Mary's diary give a sketch of their life
+during the few weeks preceding their return to England.
+
+ _Sunday, July 28_ (Montalègre).--I read Voltaire's _Romans_. Shelley
+ reads Lucretius, and talks with Clare. After dinner he goes out in the
+ boat with Lord Byron, and we all go up to Diodati in the evening. This
+ is the second anniversary since Shelley's and my union.
+
+ _Monday, July 29._--Write; read Voltaire and Quintus Curtius. A rainy
+ day, with thunder and lightning. Shelley finishes Lucretius, and reads
+ Pliny's _Letters_.
+
+ _Tuesday, July 30._--Read Quintus Curtius. Shelley read Pliny's
+ _Letters_. After dinner we go up to Diodati, and stay the evening.
+
+ _Thursday, August 1._--Make a balloon for Shelley, after which he goes
+ up to Diodati, to dine and spend the evening. Read twelve pages of
+ Curtius. Write, and read the _Reveries of Rousseau_. Shelley reads
+ Pliny's _Letters_.
+
+ _Friday, August 2._--I go to the town with Shelley, to buy a telescope
+ for his birthday present. In the evening Lord Byron and he go out in
+ the boat, and, after their return, Shelley and Clare go up to
+ Diodati; I do not, for Lord Byron did not seem to wish it. Shelley
+ returns with a letter from Longdill, which requires his return to
+ England. This puts us in bad spirits. I read _Rêveries_ and _Adèle et
+ Théodore de Madame de Genlis_, and Shelley reads Pliny's _Letters_.
+
+ _Saturday, August 3._--Finish the first volume of _Adèle_, and write.
+ After dinner write to Fanny, and go up to Diodati, where I read the
+ _Life of Madame du Deffand_. We come down early and talk of our plans.
+ Shelley reads Pliny's _Letters_, and writes letters.
+
+ _Sunday, August 4._--Shelley's birthday. Write; read _Tableau de
+ famille_. Go out with Shelley in the boat, and read to him the fourth
+ book of Virgil. After dinner we go up to Diodati, but return soon. I
+ read Curtius with Shelley, and finish the first volume, after which we
+ go out in the boat to set up the balloon, but there is too much wind;
+ we set it up from the land, but it takes fire as soon as it is up. I
+ finish the _Rêveries of Rousseau_. Shelley reads and finishes Pliny's
+ _Letters_, and begins the _Panegyric of Trajan_.
+
+ _Wednesday, August 7._--Write, and read ten pages of Curtius. Lord
+ Byron and Shelley go out in the boat. I translate in the evening, and
+ afterwards go up to Diodati. Shelley reads Tacitus.
+
+ _Friday, August 9._--Write and translate; finish _Adèle_, and read a
+ little Curtius. Shelley goes out in the boat with Lord Byron in the
+ morning and in the evening, and reads Tacitus. About 3 o'clock we go
+ up to Diodati. We receive a long letter from Fanny.
+
+
+ FANNY TO MARY.
+
+ LONDON, _29th July 1816_.
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I have just received yours, which gave me great
+ pleasure, though not quite so satisfactory a one as I could have
+ wished. I plead guilty to the charge of having written in some degree
+ in an ill humour; but if you knew how I am harassed by a variety of
+ trying circumstances, I am sure you would feel for me. Besides other
+ plagues, I was oppressed with the most violent cold in my head when I
+ last wrote you that I ever had in my life. I will now, however,
+ endeavour to give as much information from England as I am capable of
+ giving, mixed up with as little spleen as possible. I have received
+ Jane's letter, which was a very dear and a very sweet one, and I
+ should have answered it but for the dreadful state of mind I generally
+ labour under, and which I in vain endeavour to get rid of. From your
+ and Jane's description of the weather in Switzerland, it has produced
+ more mischief abroad than here. Our rain has been as constant as
+ yours, for it rains every day, but it has not been accompanied by
+ violent storms. All accounts from the country say that the corn has
+ not yet suffered, but that it is yet perfectly green; but I fear that
+ the sun will not come this year to ripen it. As yet we have had fires
+ almost constantly, and have just got a few strawberries. You ask for
+ particulars of the state of England. I do not understand the causes
+ for the distress which I see, and hear dreadful accounts of, every
+ day; but I know that they really exist. Papa, I believe, does not
+ think much, or does not inquire, on these subjects, for I never can
+ get him to give me any information. From Mr. Booth I got the clearest
+ account, which has been confirmed by others since. He says that it is
+ the "Peace" that has brought all this calamity upon us; that during
+ the war the whole Continent were employed in fighting and defending
+ their country from the incursions of foreign armies; that England
+ alone was free to manufacture in peace; that our manufactories, in
+ consequence, employed several millions, and at higher wages, than were
+ wanted for our own consumption. Now peace is come, foreign ports are
+ shut, and millions of our fellow-creatures left to starve. He also
+ says that we have no need to manufacture for ourselves--that we have
+ enough of the various articles of our manufacture to last for seven
+ years--and that the going on is only increasing the evil. They say
+ that in the counties of Staffordshire and Shropshire there are 26,000
+ men out of employment, and without the means of getting any. A few
+ weeks since there were several parties of colliers, who came as far as
+ St. Albans and Oxford, dragging coals in immense waggons, without
+ horses, to the Prince Regent at Carlton House; one of these waggons
+ was said to be conducted by a hundred colliers. The Ministers,
+ however, thought proper, when these men had got to the distance from
+ London of St. Albans, to send Magistrates to them, who paid them
+ handsomely for their coals, and gave them money besides, telling them
+ that coming to London would only create disturbance and riot, without
+ relieving their misery; they therefore turned back, and the coals were
+ given away to the poor people of the neighbourhood where they were
+ met. This may give you some idea of the misery suffered. At Glasgow,
+ the state of wretchedness is worse than anywhere else. Houses that
+ formerly employed two or three hundred men now only employ three or
+ four individuals. There have been riots of a very serious nature in
+ the inland counties, arising from the same causes. This, joined to
+ this melancholy season, has given us all very serious alarm, and
+ helped to make me write so dismally. They talk of a change of
+ Ministers; but this can effect no good; it is a change of the whole
+ system of things that is wanted. Mr. Owen, however, tells us to cheer
+ up, for that in two years we shall feel the good effect of his plans;
+ he is quite certain that they will succeed. I have no doubt that he
+ will do a great deal of good; but how he can expect to make the rich
+ give up their possessions, and live in a state of equality, is too
+ romantic to be believed. I wish I could send you his Address to the
+ People of New Lanark, on the 1st of January 1816, on the opening of
+ the Institution for the Formation of Character. He dedicates it "To
+ those who have no private ends to accomplish, who are honestly in
+ search of truth for the purpose of ameliorating the condition of
+ society, and who have the firmness to follow the truth, wherever it
+ may lead, without being turned aside from the pursuit by the
+ _prepossessions or prejudices of any part of mankind_."
+
+ This dedication will give you some idea of what sort of an Address it
+ is. This Address was delivered on a Sunday evening, in a place set
+ apart for the purposes of religion, and brought hundreds of persons
+ from the regular clergymen to hear his profane Address,--against all
+ religions, governments, and all sorts of aristocracy,--which, he says,
+ was received with the greatest attention and highly approved. The
+ outline of his plan is this: "That no human being shall work more than
+ two or three hours every day; that they shall be all equal; that no
+ one shall dress but after the plainest and simplest manner; that they
+ be allowed to follow any religion, as they please; and that their
+ [studies] shall be Mechanics and Chemistry." I hate and am sick at
+ heart at the misery I see my fellow-beings suffering, but I own I
+ should not like to live to see the extinction of all genius, talent,
+ and elevated generous feeling in Great Britain, which I conceive to be
+ the natural consequence of Mr. Owen's plan. I am not either wise
+ enough, philosophical enough, nor historian enough, to say what will
+ make man plain and simple in manners and mode of life, and at the same
+ time a poet, a painter, and a philosopher; but this I know, that I had
+ rather live with the Genevese, as you and Jane describe, than live in
+ London, with the most brilliant beings that exist, in its present
+ state of vice and misery. So much for Mr. Owen, who is, indeed, a very
+ great and good man. He told me the other day that he wished our Mother
+ were living, as he had never before met with a person who thought so
+ exactly as he did, or who would have so warmly and zealously entered
+ into his plans. Indeed, there is nothing very promising in a return to
+ England at least for some time to come, for it is better to witness
+ misery in a foreign country than one's own, unless you have the means
+ of relieving it. I wish I could send you the books you ask for. I
+ should have sent them, if Longdill had not said he was not
+ sending--that he expected Shelley in England. I shall send again
+ immediately, and will then send you _Christabel_ and the "Poet's"
+ _Poems_. Were I not a dependent being in every sense of the word, but
+ most particularly in money, I would send you other things, which
+ perhaps you would be glad of. I am much more interested in Lord Byron
+ since I have read all his poems. When you left England I had only read
+ _Childe Harold_ and his smaller poems. The pleasure he has excited in
+ me, and gratitude I owe him for having cheered several gloomy hours,
+ makes me wish for a more finished portrait, both of his _mind_ and
+ _countenance_. From _Childe Harold_ I gained a very ill impression of
+ him, because I conceived it was _himself_,--notwithstanding the pains
+ he took to tell us it was an imaginary being. The _Giaour_, _Lara_,
+ and the _Corsair_ make me justly style him a poet. Do in your next
+ oblige me by telling me the minutest particulars of him, for it is
+ from the _small things_ that you learn most of character. Is his face
+ as fine as in your portrait of him, or is it more like the other
+ portrait of him? Tell me also if he has a pleasing voice, for that has
+ a great charm with me. Does he come into your house in a careless,
+ friendly, dropping-in manner? I wish to know, though not from idle
+ curiosity, whether he was capable of acting in the manner that the
+ London scandal-mongers say he did? You must by this time know if he is
+ a profligate in principle--a man who, like Curran, gives himself
+ unbounded liberty in all sorts of profligacy. I cannot think, from his
+ writings, that he can be such a _detestable being_. Do answer me these
+ questions, for where I love the poet I should like to respect the man.
+ Shelley's boat excursion with him must have been very delightful. I
+ think Lord Byron never writes so well as when he writes descriptions
+ of water scenes; for instance, the beginning of the _Giaour_. There is
+ a fine expressive line in _Childe Harold_: "Blow, swiftly blow, thou
+ keen compelling gale," etc. There could have been no difference of
+ sentiment in this divine excursion; they were both poets, equally
+ alive to the charms of nature and the eloquent writing of Rousseau. I
+ long very much to read the poem the "Poet" has written on the spot
+ where Julie was drowned. When will they come to England? Say that you
+ have a friend who has few pleasures, and is very impatient to read the
+ poems written at Geneva. If they are not to be published, may I see
+ them in manuscript? I am angry with Shelley for not writing himself.
+ It is impossible to tell the good that POETS do their
+ fellow-creatures, at least those that can feel. Whilst I read I am a
+ poet. I am inspired with good feelings--feelings that create perhaps
+ a more permanent good in me than all the everyday preachments in the
+ world; it counteracts the dross which one gives on the everyday
+ concerns of life, and tells us there is something yet in the world to
+ aspire to--something by which succeeding ages may be made happy and
+ perhaps better. If Shelley cannot accomplish any other good, he can
+ this divine one. Laugh at me, but do not be angry with me, for taking
+ up your time with my nonsense. I have sent again to Longdill, and he
+ has returned the same answer as before. I can [not], therefore, send
+ you _Christabel_. Lamb says it ought never to have been published;
+ that no one understands it; and _Kubla Khan_ (which is the poem he
+ made in his sleep) is nonsense. Coleridge is living at Highgate; he is
+ living with an apothecary, to whom he pays £5 a week for board,
+ lodging, and medical advice. The apothecary is to take care that he
+ does not take either opium or spirituous liquors. Coleridge, however,
+ was tempted, and wrote to a chemist he knew in London to send a bottle
+ of laudanum to Mr. Murray's in Albemarle Street, to be enclosed in a
+ parcel of books to him; his landlord, however, felt the parcel
+ outside, and discovered the fatal bottle. Mr. Morgan told me the other
+ day that Coleridge improved in health under the care of the
+ apothecary, and was writing fast a continuation of _Christabel_.
+
+ You ask me if Mr. Booth mentioned Isabel's having received a letter
+ from you. He never mentioned your name to me, nor I to him; but he
+ told Mamma that you had written a letter to her from Calais. He is
+ gone back, and promises to bring Isabel next year. He has given us a
+ volume of his _poetry_--_true, genuine poetry_--not such as
+ Coleridge's or Wordsworth's, but Miss Seward's and Dr. Darwin's--
+
+ Dying swains to sighing Delias.
+
+ You ask about old friends; we have none, and see none. Poor Marshal is
+ in a bad way; we see very little of him. Mrs. Kenny is going
+ immediately to live near Orleans, which is better for her than living
+ in London, afraid of her creditors. The Lambs have been spending a
+ month in the neighbourhood of Clifton and Bristol; they were highly
+ delighted with Clifton. Sheridan is dead. Papa was very much grieved
+ at his death. William and he went to his funeral. He was buried in the
+ Poets' Corner of Westminster Abbey, attended by all the high people.
+ Papa has visited his grave many times since. I am too young to
+ remember his speeches in Parliament. I never admired his style of
+ play-writing. I cannot, therefore, sympathise in the elegant tributes
+ to his memory which have been paid by all parties. Those things which
+ I have heard from all parties of his drunkenness I cannot admire. We
+ have had one great pleasure since your departure, in viewing a fine
+ collection of the Italian masters at the British Institution. Two of
+ the Cartoons are there. Paul preaching at Athens is the finest picture
+ I ever beheld.... I am going again to see this Exhibition next week,
+ before it closes, when I shall be better able to tell you which I most
+ admire of Raphael, Titian, Leonardo da Vinci, Domenichino, Claude, S.
+ Rosa, Poussin, Murillo, etc., and all of which cannot be too much
+ examined. I only wish I could have gone many times. Charles's letter
+ has not yet arrived. Do give me every account of him when you next
+ hear from him. I think it is of great consequence the mode of life he
+ now pursues, as it will most likely decide his future good or ill
+ doing. You ask what I mean by "plans with Mr. Blood?" I meant a
+ residence in Ireland. However, I will not plague you with them till I
+ understand them myself. My Aunt Everina will be in London next week,
+ when my future fate will be decided. I shall then give you a full and
+ clear account of what my unhappy life is to be spent in, etc. I left
+ it to the end of my letter to call your attention most seriously to
+ what I said in my last letter respecting Papa's affairs. They have now
+ a much more serious and threatening aspect than when I last wrote to
+ you. You perhaps think that Papa has gained a large sum by his novel
+ engagement, which is not the case. He could make no other engagement
+ with Constable than that they should share the profits equally between
+ them, which, if the novel is successful, is an advantageous bargain.
+ Papa, however, prevailed upon him to advance £200, to be deducted
+ hereafter out of the part he is to receive; and if two volumes of the
+ novel are not forthcoming on the 1st of January 1817, Constable has a
+ promissory note to come upon papa for the £200. This £200 I told you
+ was appropriated to Davidson and Hamilton, who had lent him £200 on
+ his _Caleb Williams_ last year; so that you perceive he has as yet
+ gained nothing on his novel, and all depends upon his future
+ exertions. He has been very unwell and very uneasy in his mind for the
+ last week, unable to write; and it was not till this day I discovered
+ the cause, which has given me great uneasiness. You seem to have
+ forgotten Kingdon's £300 to be paid at the end of June. He has had a
+ great deal of plague and uneasiness about it, and has at last been
+ obliged to give Kingdon his promissory note for £300, payable on
+ demand, so that every hour is not safe. Kingdon is no friend, and the
+ money Government money, and it cannot be expected he will show Papa
+ any mercy. I dread the effect on his health. He cannot sleep at night,
+ and is indeed very unwell. This he concealed from Mamma and myself
+ until this day. Taylor of Norwich has also come upon him again; he
+ says, owing to the distress of the country, he must have the money for
+ his children; but I do not fear him like Kingdon. Shelley said in his
+ letter, some weeks ago, that the £300 should come the end of June.
+ Papa, therefore, acted upon that promise. From your last letter I
+ perceive you think I colour my statements. I assure you I am most
+ anxious, when I mention these unfortunate affairs, to speak the truth,
+ and nothing but the truth, as it is. I think it my duty to tell you
+ the real state of the case, for I know you deceive yourself about
+ things. If Papa could go on with his novel in good spirits, I think it
+ would perhaps be his very best. He said the other day that he was
+ writing upon a subject no one had ever written upon before, and that
+ it would require great exertion to make it what he wished. Give my
+ love to Jane; thank her for her letter. I will write to her next week,
+ though I consider this long tiresome one as addressed to you all.
+ Give my love also to Shelley; tell him, if he goes any more
+ excursions, nothing will give me more pleasure than a description of
+ them. Tell him I like your [____][20] tour best, though I should like
+ to visit _Venice_ and _Naples_. Kiss dear William for me; I sometimes
+ consider him as my child, and look forward to the time of my old age
+ and his manhood. Do you dip him in the lake? I am much afraid you will
+ find this letter much too long; if it affords you any pleasure, oblige
+ me by a long one in return, but write small, for Mamma complains of
+ the postage of a double letter. I pay the full postage of all the
+ letters I send, and you know I have not a _sous_ of my own. Mamma is
+ much better, though not without rheumatism. William is better than he
+ ever was in his life. I am not well; my mind always keeps my body in a
+ fever; but never mind me. Do entreat J. to attend to her eyes. Adieu,
+ my dear Sister. Let me entreat you to consider seriously all that I
+ have said concerning your Father.--Yours, very affectionately,
+
+ FANNY.
+
+
+ _Journal, Saturday, August 10._--Write to Fanny. Shelley writes to
+ Charles. We then go to town to buy books and a watch for Fanny. Read
+ Curtius after my return; translate. In the evening Shelley and Lord
+ Byron go out in the boat. Translate, and when they return go up to
+ Diodati. Shelley reads Tacitus. A writ of arrest comes from Polidori,
+ for having "cassé ses lunettes et fait tomber son chapeau" of the
+ apothecary who sells bad magnesia.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Monday, August 12._--Write my story and translate. Shelley goes to
+ the town, and afterwards goes out in the boat with Lord Byron. After
+ dinner I go out a little in the boat, and then Shelley goes up to
+ Diodati. I translate in the evening, and read _Le Vieux de la
+ Montagne_, and write. Shelley, in coming down, is attacked by a dog,
+ which delays him; we send up for him, and Lord Byron comes down; in
+ the meantime Shelley returns.
+
+ _Wednesday, August 14._--Read _Le Vieux de la Montagne_; translate.
+ Shelley reads Tacitus, and goes out with Lord Byron before and after
+ dinner. Lewis[21] comes to Diodati. Shelley goes up there, and Clare
+ goes up to copy. Remain at home, and read _Le Vieux de la Montagne_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Friday, August 16._--Write, and read a little of Curtius; translate;
+ read _Walther_ and some of _Rienzi_. Lord Byron goes with Lewis to
+ Ferney. Shelley writes, and reads Tacitus.
+
+ _Saturday, August 17._--Write, and finish _Walther_. In the evening I
+ go out in the boat with Shelley, and he afterwards goes up to Diodati.
+ Began one of Madame de Genlis's novels. Shelley finishes Tacitus.
+ Polidori comes down. Little babe is not well.
+
+ _Sunday, August 18._--Talk with Shelley, and write; read Curtius.
+ Shelley reads Plutarch in Greek. Lord Byron comes down, and stays here
+ an hour. I read a novel in the evening. Shelley goes up to Diodati,
+ and Monk Lewis.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Tuesday, August 20._--Read Curtius; write; read _Herman d'Unna_. Lord
+ Byron comes down after dinner, and remains with us until dark. Shelley
+ spends the rest of the evening at Diodati. He reads Plutarch.
+
+ _Wednesday, August 21._--Shelley and I talk about my story. Finish
+ _Herman d'Unna_ and write. Shelley reads Milton. After dinner Lord
+ Byron comes down, and Clare and Shelley go up to Diodati. Read
+ _Rienzi_.
+
+ _Friday, August 23._--Shelley goes up to Diodati, and then in the boat
+ with Lord Byron, who has heard bad news of Lady Byron, and is in bad
+ spirits concerning it.... Letters arrive from Peacock and Charles.
+ Shelley reads Milton.
+
+ _Saturday, August 24._--Write. Shelley goes to Geneva. Read. Lord
+ Byron and Shelley sit on the wall before dinner. After I talk with
+ Shelley, and then Lord Byron comes down and spends an hour here.
+ Shelley and he go up together.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Monday, August 26._--Hobhouse and Scroop Davis come to Diodati.
+ Shelley spends the evening there, and reads _Germania_. Several books
+ arrive, among others Coleridge's _Christabel_, which Shelley reads
+ aloud to me before going to bed.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Wednesday, August 28._--Packing. Shelley goes to town. Work. Polidori
+ comes down, and afterwards Lord Byron. After dinner we go upon the
+ water; pack; and Shelley goes up to Diodati. Shelley reads _Histoire
+ de la Révolution par Rabault_.
+
+ _Thursday, August 29._--We depart from Geneva at 9 in the morning.
+
+They travelled to Havre _viâ_ Dijon, Auxerre, and Villeneuve; allowing
+only a few hours for visiting the palaces of Fontainebleau and Versailles,
+and the Cathedral of Rouen. From Havre they sailed to Portsmouth, where,
+for a short time, they separated. Shelley went to stay with Peacock, who
+was living at Great Marlow, and had been looking about there for a house
+to suit his friends. Mary and Clare proceeded to Bath, where they were to
+spend the next few months.
+
+ _Journal, Tuesday, September 10._--Arrive at Bath about 2. Dine, and
+ spend the evening in looking for lodgings. Read Mrs. Robinson's
+ _Valcenga_.
+
+ _Wednesday, September 11._--Look for lodgings; take some, and settle
+ ourselves. Read the first volume of _The Antiquary_, and work.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+SEPTEMBER 1816-FEBRUARY 1817
+
+
+Trouble had, for some time past, been gathering in heavy clouds. Godwin's
+affairs were in worse plight than ever, and the Shelleys, go where they
+might, were never suffered to forget them. Fanny constituted herself his
+special pleader, and made it evident that she found it hard to believe
+Shelley could not, if he chose, get more money than he did for Mary's
+father. Her long letters, bearing witness in every line to her great
+natural intelligence and sensibility, excite the deepest pity for her, and
+not a little, it must be added, for those to whom they were addressed. The
+poor girl's life was, indeed, a hard one, and of all her trials perhaps
+the most insurmountable was that inherited melancholy of the
+Wollstonecraft temperament which permitted her no illusions, no moments,
+even, of respite from care in unreasoning gaiety such as are incidental to
+most young and healthy natures. Nor, although she won every one's respect
+and most people's liking, had she the inborn gift of inspiring devotion or
+arousing enthusiasm. She was one of those who give all and take nothing.
+The people she loved all cared for others more than they did for her, or
+cared only for themselves. Full of warmth and affection and ideal
+aspirations; sympathetically responsive to every poem, every work of art
+appealing to imagination, she was condemned by her temperament and the
+surroundings of her life to idealise nothing, and to look at all objects
+as they presented themselves to her, in the light of the very commonest
+day.
+
+Less pressing than Godwin, but still another disturbing cause, was Charles
+Clairmont, who was travelling abroad in search, partly of health, partly
+of occupation; had found the former, but not the latter, and, of course,
+looked to Shelley as the magician who was to realise all his plans for
+him. Of his discursive letters, which are immensely long, in a style of
+florid eloquence, only a few specimen extracts can find room here. One,
+received by Shelley and Mary at Geneva, openly confesses that, though it
+was a year since he had left England, he had abstained, as yet, from
+writing to Skinner Street, being as unsettled as ever, and having had
+nothing to speak of but his pleasures;--having in short been going on
+"just like a butterfly,--though still as a butterfly of the best
+intentions." He proceeds to describe the country, his manner of living
+there, his health,--he details his symptoms, and sets forth at length the
+various projects he might entertain, and the marvellous cheapness of one
+and all of them, if only he could afford to have any projects at all. He
+enumerates items of expenditure connected with one of his schemes, and
+concludes thus--
+
+ I lay this proposal before you, without knowing anything of your
+ finances, which, I fear, cannot be in too flourishing a situation. You
+ will, I trust, consider of the thing, and treat it as frankly as it
+ has been offered. I know you too well not to know you would do for me
+ all in your power. Have the goodness to write to me as instantly as
+ possible.
+
+And Shelley did write,--so says the journal.
+
+Last not least, there was Clare. At what point of all this time did her
+secret become known to Shelley and Mary? No document as yet has seen the
+light which informs us of this. Perhaps some day it may. Unfortunately for
+biographers and for readers of biography, Mary's journal is almost devoid
+of personal gossip, or indeed of personalities of any kind. Her diary is a
+record of outward facts, and, occasionally, of intellectual impressions;
+no intimate history and no one else's affairs are confided to it. No
+change of tone is perceptible anywhere. All that can be asserted is that
+they knew nothing of it when they went to Geneva. In the absence of
+absolute proof to the contrary it is impossible to believe that they were
+not aware of it when they came back. Clare was an expecting mother. For
+four months they had all been in daily intercourse with Byron, who never
+was or could be reticent, and who was not restrained either by delicacy or
+consideration for others from saying what he chose. But when and how the
+whole affair was divulged and what its effect was on Shelley and Mary
+remains a mystery. From this time, however, Clare resumed her place as a
+member of their household. It cannot have been a matter of satisfaction to
+Mary: domestic life was more congenial without Clare's presence than with
+it, but now that there was a true reason for her taking shelter with them,
+Mary's native nobility of heart was equal to the occasion, and she gave
+help, support, and confidence, ungrudgingly and without stint. Never in
+her journal, and only once in her letters does any expression of
+discontent appear. They settled down together in their lodgings at Bath,
+but on the 19th of September Mary set out to join Shelley at Marlow for a
+few days, leaving Clara in charge of little Willy and the Swiss nurse
+Elise. On the 25th both were back at Bath, where they resumed their quiet,
+regular way of life, resting and reading. But this apparent peace was not
+to be long unbroken. Letters from Fanny followed each other in quick
+succession, breathing nothing but painful, perpetual anxiety.
+
+ FANNY TO MARY.
+
+ _26th September 1816._
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I received your letter last Saturday, which rejoiced my
+ heart. I cannot help envying your calm, contented disposition, and
+ the calm philosophical habits of life which pursue you, or rather
+ which you pursue everywhere. I allude to your description of the
+ manner in which you pass your days at Bath, when most women would
+ hardly have recovered from the fatigues of such a journey as you had
+ been taking. I am delighted to hear such pleasing accounts of your
+ William; I should like to see him, dear fellow; the change of air does
+ him infinite good, no doubt. I am very glad you have got Jane a
+ pianoforte; if anything can do her good and restore her to industry,
+ it is music. I think I gave her all the music here; however, I will
+ look again for what I can find. I am angry with Shelley for not giving
+ me an account of his health. All that I saw of him gave me great
+ uneasiness about him, and as I see him but seldom, I am much more
+ alarmed perhaps than you, who are constantly with him. I hope that it
+ is only the London air which does not agree with him, and that he is
+ now much better; however, it would have been kind to have said so.
+
+ Aunt Everina and Mrs. Bishop left London two days ago. It pained me
+ very much to find that they have entirely lost their little income
+ from Primrose Street, which is very hard upon them at their age. Did
+ Shelley tell you a singular story about Mrs. B. having received an
+ annuity which will make up in part for her loss?
+
+ Poor Papa is going on with his novel, though I am sure it is very
+ fatiguing to him, though he will not allow it; he is not able to study
+ as much as formerly without injuring himself; this, joined to the
+ plagues of his affairs, which he fears will never be closed, make me
+ very anxious for him. The name of his novel is _Mandeville, or a Tale
+ of the Seventeenth Century_. I think, however, you had better not
+ mention the name to any one, as he wishes it not to be announced at
+ present. Tell Shelley, as soon as he knows certainly about Longdill,
+ to write, that he may be eased on that score, for it is a great weight
+ on his spirits at present. Mr. Owen is come to town to prepare for the
+ meeting of Parliament. There never was so devoted a being as he is;
+ and it certainly must end in his doing a great deal of good, though
+ not the good he talks of.
+
+ Have you heard from Charles? He has never given us a single line. I am
+ afraid he is doing very ill, and has the conscience not to write a
+ parcel of lies. Beg the favour of Shelley, to copy for me his poem on
+ the scenes at the foot of Mont Blanc, and tell him or remind him of a
+ letter which you said he had written on these scenes; you cannot think
+ what a treasure they would be to me; remember you promised them to me
+ when you returned to England. Have you heard from Lord Byron since he
+ visited those sublime scenes? I have had great pleasure since I saw
+ Shelley in going over a fine gallery of pictures of the Old Masters at
+ Dulwich. There was a St. Sebastian by Guido, the finest picture I ever
+ saw; there were also the finest specimens of Murillo, the great
+ Spanish painter, to be found in England, and two very fine Titians.
+ But the works of art are not to be compared to the works of nature,
+ and I am never satisfied. It is only poets that are eternal
+ benefactors of their fellow-creatures, and the real ones never fail of
+ giving us the highest degree of pleasure we are capable of; they are,
+ in my opinion, nature and art united, and as such never fading.
+
+ Do write to me immediately, and tell me you have got a house, and
+ answer those questions I asked you at the beginning of this letter.
+
+ Give my love to Shelley, and kiss William for me. Your affectionate
+ Sister,
+
+ FANNY.
+
+When Shelley sold to his father the reversion of a part of his
+inheritance, he had promised to Godwin a sum of £300, which he had hoped
+to save from the money thus obtained. Owing to certain conditions attached
+to the transaction by Sir Timothy Shelley, this proved to be impossible.
+The utmost Shelley could do, and that only by leaving himself almost
+without resources, was to send something over £200; a bitter
+disappointment to Godwin, who had given a bill for the full amount.
+Shelley had perhaps been led by his hopes, and his desire to serve Godwin,
+to speak in too sanguine a tone as to his prospect of obtaining the money,
+and the letter announcing his failure came, Fanny wrote, "like a
+thunderclap." In her disappointment she taxed Shelley with want of
+frankness, and Shelley and Mary both with an apparent wish to avoid the
+subject of Godwin's affairs.
+
+ "You know," she writes, "the peculiar temperature of Papa's mind (if I
+ may so express myself); you know he cannot write when pecuniary
+ circumstances overwhelm him; you know that it is of the utmost
+ consequence, for _his own_ and the _world's sake_ that he should
+ finish his novel; and is it not your and Shelley's duty to consider
+ these things, and to endeavour to prevent, as far as lies in your
+ power, giving him unnecessary pain and anxiety?"
+
+To the Shelleys, who had strained every nerve to obtain this money,
+unmindful of the insulting manner in which such assistance was demanded
+and received by Godwin, these appeals to their sense of duty must have
+been exasperating. Nor were matters mended by hearing of sundry scandalous
+reports abroad concerning themselves--reports sedulously gathered by Mrs.
+Godwin, and of which Fanny thought it her duty to inform them, so as to
+put them on their guard. They, on their part, were indignant, especially
+with Mrs. Godwin, who had evidently, they surmised, gone out of her way
+to collect this false information, and had helped rather than hindered its
+circulation; and they expressed themselves to this effect. Fanny stoutly
+defended her stepmother against these attacks.
+
+ Mamma and I are not great friends, but, always alive to her virtues, I
+ am anxious to defend her from a charge so foreign to her character....
+ I told Shelley these (scandalous reports), and I still think they
+ originated with your servants and Harriet, whom I know has been very
+ industrious in spreading false reports about you. I at the same time
+ advised Shelley always to keep French servants, and he then seemed to
+ think it a good plan. You are very careless, and are for ever leaving
+ your letters about. English servants like nothing so much as scandal
+ and gossip; but this you know as well as I, and this is the origin of
+ the stories that are told. And this you choose to father on Mamma, who
+ (whatever she chooses to say in a passion to me alone) is the woman
+ the most incapable of such low conduct. I do not say that her
+ inferences are always the most just or the most amiable, but they are
+ always confined to myself and Papa. Depend upon it you are perfectly
+ safe as long as you keep your French servant with you.... I have now
+ to entreat you, Shelley, to tell Papa exactly what you can and what
+ you cannot do, for he does not seem to know what you mean in your
+ letter. I know that you are most anxious to do everything in your
+ power to complete your engagement to him, and to do anything that will
+ not ruin yourself to save him; but he is not convinced of this, and I
+ think it essential to his peace that he should be convinced of this. I
+ do not on any account wish you to give him false hopes. Forgive me if
+ I have expressed myself unkindly. My heart is warm in your cause, and
+ I am _anxious, most anxious_, that Papa should feel for you as I do,
+ both for your own and his sake.... All that I have said about Mamma
+ proceeds from the hatred I have of talking and petty scandal, which,
+ though trifling in itself, often does superior persons much injury,
+ though it cannot proceed from any but vulgar souls in the first
+ instance.
+
+This letter was crossed by Shelley's, enclosing more than
+£200--insufficient, however, to meet the situation or to raise the heavy
+veil of gloom which had settled on Skinner Street. Fanny could bear it no
+longer. Despairing gloom from Godwin, whom she loved, and who in his gloom
+was no philosopher; sordid, nagging, angry gloom from "Mamma," who,
+clearly enough, did not scruple to remind the poor girl that she had been
+a charge and a burden to the household (this may have been one of the
+things she only "chose to say in a passion, to Fanny alone"); her sisters
+gone, and neither of them in complete sympathy with her; no friends to
+cheer or divert her thoughts! A plan had been under consideration for her
+residing with her relatives in Ireland, and the last drop of bitterness
+was the refusal of her aunt, Everina Wollstonecraft, to have her. What was
+left for her? Much, if she could have believed it, and have nerved herself
+to patience. But she was broken down and blinded by the strain of over
+endurance. On the 9th of October she disappeared from home. Shelley and
+Mary in Bath suspected nothing of the impending crisis. The journal for
+that week is as follows--
+
+ _Saturday, October 5_ (Mary).--Read Clarendon and Curtius; walk with
+ Shelley. Shelley reads Tasso.
+
+ _Sunday, October 6_ (Shelley).--On this day Mary put her head through
+ the door and said, "Come and look; here's a cat eating roses; she'll
+ turn into a woman; when beasts eat these roses they turn into men and
+ women."
+
+ (Mary).--Read Clarendon all day; finish the eleventh book. Shelley
+ reads Tasso.
+
+ _Monday, October 7._--Read Curtius and Clarendon; write. Shelley reads
+ _Don Quixote_ aloud in the evening.
+
+ _Tuesday, October 8._--Letter from Fanny (this letter has not been
+ preserved). Drawing lesson. Walk out with Shelley to the South Parade;
+ read Clarendon, and draw. In the evening work, and Shelley reads _Don
+ Quixote_; afterwards read _Memoirs of the Princess of Bareith_ aloud.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 9._--Read Curtius; finish the _Memoirs_; draw. In
+ the evening a very alarming letter comes from Fanny. Shelley goes
+ immediately to Bristol; we sit up for him till 2 in the morning, when
+ he returns, but brings no particular news.
+
+ _Thursday, October 10._--Shelley goes again to Bristol, and obtains
+ more certain trace. Work and read. He returns at 11 o'clock.
+
+ _Friday, October 11._--He sets off to Swansea. Work and read.
+
+ _Saturday, October 12._--He returns with the worst account. A
+ miserable day. Two letters from Papa. Buy mourning, and work in the
+ evening.
+
+From Bristol Fanny had written not only to the Shelleys, but to the
+Godwins, accounting for her disappearance, and adding, "I depart
+immediately to the spot from which I hope never to remove."
+
+During the ensuing night, at the Mackworth Arms Inn, Swansea, she traced
+the following words--
+
+ I have long determined that the best thing I could do was to put an
+ end to the existence of a being whose birth was unfortunate, and whose
+ life has only been a series of pain to those persons who have hurt
+ their health in endeavouring to promote her welfare. Perhaps to hear
+ of my death may give you pain, but you will soon have the blessing of
+ forgetting that such a creature ever existed as....
+
+This note and a laudanum bottle were beside her when, next morning, she
+was found lying dead.
+
+The persons for whose sake it was--so she had persuaded herself--that she
+committed this act were reduced to a wretched condition by the blow.
+Shelley's health was shattered; Mary profoundly miserable; Clare, although
+by her own avowal feeling less affection for Fanny than might have been
+expected, was shocked by the dreadful manner of her death, and infected by
+the contagion of the general gloom. She was not far from her confinement,
+and had reasons enough of her own for any amount of depression.
+
+Godwin was deeply afflicted; to him Fanny was a great and material loss,
+and the last remaining link with a happy past. As usual, public comment
+was the thing of all others from which he shrank most, and in the midst of
+his first sorrow his chief anxiety was to hide or disguise the painful
+story from the world. In writing (for the first time) to Mary he says--
+
+ Do not expose us to those idle questions which, to a mind in anguish,
+ is one of the severest of all trials. We are at this moment in doubt
+ whether, during the first shock, we shall not say that she is gone to
+ Ireland to her aunt, a thing that had been in contemplation. Do not
+ take from us the power to exercise our own discretion. You shall hear
+ again to-morrow.
+
+ What I have most of all in horror is the public papers, and I thank
+ you for your caution, as it may act on this.
+
+ We have so conducted ourselves that not one person in our home has the
+ smallest apprehension of the truth. Our feelings are less tumultuous
+ than deep. God only knows what they may become.
+
+Charles Clairmont was not informed at all of Fanny's death; a letter from
+him a year later contains a message to her. Mrs. Godwin busied herself
+with putting the blame on Shelley. Four years later she informed Mrs.
+Gisborne that the three girls had been simultaneously in love with
+Shelley, and that Fanny's death was due to jealousy of Mary! This shows
+that the Shelleys' instinct did not much mislead them when they held
+Mary's stepmother responsible for the authorship and diffusion of many of
+those slanders which for years were to affect their happiness and peace.
+Any reader of Fanny's letters can judge how far Mrs. Godwin's allegation
+is borne out by actual facts; and to any one knowing aught of women and
+women's lives these letters afford clue enough to the situation and the
+story, and further explanation is superfluous. Fanny was fond of Shelley,
+fond enough even to forgive him for the trouble he had brought on their
+home, but her part was throughout that of a long-suffering sister, one,
+too, to whose lot it always fell to say all the disagreeable things that
+had to be said--a truly ungrateful task. Her loyalty to the Godwins,
+though it could not entirely divide her from the Shelleys, could and did
+prevent any intimacy of friendship with them. Her enlightened, liberal
+mind, and her generous, loving heart had won Shelley's recognition and his
+affection, and in a moment a veil was torn from his eyes, revealing to him
+unsuspected depths of suffering, sacrifice, and heroism--now it was too
+late. How much more they might have done for Fanny had they understood
+what she endured! There was he, Shelley, offering sympathy and help to the
+oppressed and the miserable all the world over, and here,--here under his
+very eyes, this tragic romance was acted out to the death.
+
+ Her voice did quiver as we parted,
+ Yet knew I not that heart was broken
+ From which it came,--and I departed,
+ Heeding not the words then spoken--
+ Misery, ah! misery!
+ This world is all too wide for thee.
+
+If the echo of those lines reached Fanny in the world of shadows, it may
+have calmed the restless spirit with the knowledge that she had not lived
+for nothing after all.
+
+During the next two months another tragedy was silently advancing towards
+its final catastrophe. Shelley was anxious for intelligence of Harriet and
+her children; she had, however, disappeared, and he could discover no
+clue to her whereabouts. Mr. Peacock, who, during June, had been in
+communication with her on money matters, had now, apparently, lost sight
+of her. The worry of Godwin's money-matters and the fearful shock of
+Fanny's self-sought death, followed as it was by collapse of his own
+health and nerves, probably withdrew Shelley's thoughts from the subject
+for a time. In November, however, he wrote to Hookham, thinking that he,
+to whom Harriet had once written to discover Shelley's whereabouts, might
+now know or have the means of finding out where she was living. No answer
+came, however, to these inquiries for some weeks, during which Shelley,
+Mary, and Clare lived in their seclusion, reading Lucian and Horace,
+Shakespeare, Gibbon, and Locke; in occasional correspondence with Skinner
+Street, through Mrs. Godwin, who was now trying what she could do to
+obtain money loans (probably raised on Shelley's prospects), requisite,
+not only to save Godwin from bankruptcy, but to repay Shelley a small
+fraction of what he had given and lent, and without which he was unable to
+pay his own way.
+
+The plan for settling at Marlow was still pending, and on the 5th of
+December Shelley went there again to stay with Mr. Peacock and his mother,
+and to look about for a residence to suit him. Mary during his absence was
+somewhat tormented by anxiety for his fragile health; fearful, too, lest
+in his impulsive way he should fall in love with the first pretty place he
+saw, and burden himself with some unsuitable house, in the idea of
+settling there "for ever," Clare and all. To that last plan she probably
+foresaw the objections more clearly than Shelley did. But her cheery
+letters are girlish and playful.
+
+ _5th December 1816._
+
+ SWEET ELF--I got up very late this morning, so that I could not attend
+ Mr. West. I don't know any more. Good-night.
+
+
+ NEW BOND STREET, BATH,
+ _6th December 1816_.
+
+ SWEET ELF--I was awakened this morning by my pretty babe, and was
+ dressed time enough to take my lesson from Mr. West, and (thank God)
+ finished that tedious ugly picture I have been so long about. I have
+ also finished the fourth chapter of _Frankenstein_, which is a very
+ long one, and I think you would like it. And where are you? and what
+ are you doing? my blessed love. I hope and trust that, for my sake,
+ you did not go outside this wretched day, while the wind howls and the
+ clouds seem to threaten rain. And what did my love think of as he rode
+ along--did he think about our home, our babe, and his poor Pecksie?
+ But I am sure you did, and thought of them all with joy and hope. But
+ in the choice of a residence, dear Shelley, pray be not too quick or
+ attach yourself too much to one spot. Ah! were you indeed a winged
+ Elf, and could soar over mountains and seas, and could pounce on the
+ little spot. A house with a lawn, a river or lake, noble trees, and
+ divine mountains, that should be our little mouse-hole to retire to.
+ But never mind this; give me a garden, and _absentia_ Claire, and I
+ will thank my love for many favours. If you, my love, go to London,
+ you will perhaps try to procure a good Livy, for I wish very much to
+ read it. I must be more industrious, especially in learning Latin,
+ which I neglected shamefully last summer at intervals, and those
+ periods of not reading at all put me back very far.
+
+ The _Morning Chronicle_, as you will see, does not make much of the
+ riots, which they say are entirely quelled, and you would be almost
+ inclined to say, "Out of the mountain comes forth a mouse," although,
+ I daresay, poor Mrs. Platt does not think so.
+
+ The blue eyes of your sweet Boy are staring at me while I write this;
+ he is a dear child, and you love him tenderly, although I fancy that
+ your affection will increase when he has a nursery to himself, and
+ only comes to you just dressed and in good humour; besides when that
+ comes to pass he will be a wise little man, for he improves in mind
+ rapidly. Tell me, shall you be happy to have another little squaller?
+ You will look grave on this, but I do not mean anything.
+
+ Leigh Hunt has not written. I would advise a letter addressed to him
+ at the _Examiner_ Office, if there is no answer to-morrow. He may not
+ be at the Vale of Health, for it is odd that he does not acknowledge
+ the receipt of so large a sum. There have been no letters of any kind
+ to-day.
+
+ Now, my dear, when shall I see you? Do not be very long away; take
+ care of yourself and take a house. I have a great fear that bad
+ weather will set in. My airy Elf, how unlucky you are! I shall write
+ to Mrs. Godwin to-morrow; but let me know what you hear from Hayward
+ and papa, as I am greatly interested in those affairs. Adieu,
+ sweetest; love me tenderly, and think of me with affection when
+ anything pleases you greatly.--Your affectionate girl
+
+ MARY.
+
+ I have not asked Clare, but I dare say she would send her love,
+ although I dare say she would scold you well if you were here.
+ Compliments and remembrances to Dame Peacock and Son, but do not let
+ them see this.
+
+ Sweet, adieu!
+
+ Percy B. Shelley, Esq.,
+ Great Marlow, Bucks.
+
+On 6th December the journal records--
+
+ Letter from Shelley; he has gone to visit Leigh Hunt.
+
+This was the beginning of a lifelong intimacy.
+
+On the 14th Shelley returned to Bath, and on the very next day a letter
+from Hookham informed him that on the 9th Harriet's body had been taken
+out of the Serpentine. She had disappeared three weeks before that time
+from the house where she was living. An inquest had been held at which her
+name was given as Harriet Smith; little or no information about her was
+given to the jury, who returned a verdict of "Found drowned."
+
+Life and its complications had proved too much for the poor silly woman,
+and she took the only means of escape she saw open to her. Her piteous
+story was sufficiently told by the fact that when she drowned herself she
+was not far from her confinement. But it would seem from subsequent
+evidence that harsh treatment on the part of her relatives was what
+finally drove her to despair. She had lived a fast life, but had been,
+nominally at any rate, under her father's protection until a comparatively
+short time before her disappearance, when some act or occurrence caused
+her to be driven from his house. From that moment she sank lower and
+lower, until at last, deserted by one--said to be a groom--to whom she had
+looked for protection, she killed herself.
+
+It is asserted that she had had, all her life, an avowed proclivity to
+suicide. She had been fond, in young and happy days, of talking jocosely
+about it, as silly girls often do; discoursing of "some scheme of
+self-destruction as coolly as another lady would arrange a visit to an
+exhibition or a theatre."[22] But it is a wide dreary waste that lies
+between such an idea and the grim reality,--and poor Harriet had traversed
+it.
+
+Shelley's first thought on receiving the fatal news was of his children.
+His sensations were those of horror, not of remorse. He never spoke or
+thought of Harriet with harshness, rather with infinite pity, but he never
+regarded her save in the light of one who had wronged him and failed
+him,--whom he had left, indeed, but had forgiven, and had tried to save
+from the worst consequences of her own acts. Her dreadful death was a
+shock to him of which he said (to Byron) that he knew not how he had
+survived it; and he regarded her father and sister as guilty of her blood.
+But Fanny's death caused him acuter anguish than Harriet's did.
+
+As for Mary, she regarded the whole Westbrook family as the source of
+grief and shame to Shelley. Harriet she only knew for a frivolous,
+heartless, faithless girl, whom she had never had the faintest cause to
+respect, hardly even to pity. Poor Harriet was indeed deserving of
+profound commiseration, and no one could have known and felt this more
+than Mary would have done, in later years. But she heard one side of the
+case only, and that one the side on which her own strongest feelings were
+engaged. She was only nineteen, with an exalted ideal of womanly devotion;
+and at nineteen we may sternly judge what later on we may condemn indeed,
+but with a depth of pity quite beyond the power of its object to fathom or
+comprehend.
+
+No comment whatever on the occurrence appears in her journal. She threw
+herself ardently into Shelley's eagerness to get possession of his elder
+children; ready, for his sake, to love them as her own.
+
+It could not but occur to her that her own position was altered by this
+event, and that nothing now stood between her and her legal marriage to
+Shelley and acknowledgment as his wife. So completely, however, did they
+regard themselves as united for all time by indissoluble ties that she
+thought of the change chiefly as it affected other people.
+
+ MARY TO SHELLEY.
+
+ BATH, _17th December 1816_.
+
+ MY BELOVED FRIEND--I waited with the greatest anxiety for your letter.
+ You are well, and that assurance has restored some peace to me.
+
+ How very happy shall I be to possess those darling treasures that are
+ yours. I do not exactly understand what Chancery has to do in this,
+ and wait with impatience for to-morrow, when I shall hear whether they
+ are with you; and then what will you do with them? My heart says,
+ bring them instantly here; but I submit to your prudence. You do not
+ mention Godwin. When I receive your letter to-morrow I shall write to
+ Mrs. Godwin. I hope, yet I fear, that he will show on this occasion
+ some disinterestedness. Poor, dear Fanny, if she had lived until this
+ moment she would have been saved, for my house would then have been a
+ proper asylum for her. Ah! my best love, to you do I owe every joy,
+ every perfection that I may enjoy or boast of. Love me, sweet, for
+ ever. I hardly know what I mean, I am so much agitated. Clare has a
+ very bad cough, but I think she is better to-day. Mr. Carn talks of
+ bleeding if she does not recover quickly, but she is positively
+ resolved not to submit to that. She sends her love. My sweet love,
+ deliver some message from me to your kind friends at Hampstead; tell
+ Mrs. Hunt that I am extremely obliged to her for the little profile
+ she was so kind as to send me, and thank Mr. Hunt for his friendly
+ message which I did not hear.
+
+ These Westbrooks! But they have nothing to do with your sweet babes;
+ they are yours, and I do not see the pretence for a suit; but
+ to-morrow I shall know all.
+
+ Your box arrived to-day. I shall send soon to the upholsterer, for now
+ I long more than ever that our house should be quickly ready for the
+ reception of those dear children whom I love so tenderly. Then there
+ will be a sweet brother and sister for my William, who will lose his
+ pre-eminence as eldest, and be helped third at table, as Clare is
+ continually reminding him.
+
+ Come down to me, sweetest, as soon as you can, for I long to see you
+ and embrace.
+
+ As to the event you allude to, be governed by your friends and
+ prudence as to when it ought to take place, but it must be in London.
+
+ Clare has just looked in; she begs you not to stay away long, to be
+ more explicit in your letters, and sends her love.
+
+ You tell me to write a long letter, and I would, but that my ideas
+ wander and my hand trembles. Come back to reassure me, my Shelley, and
+ bring with you your darling Ianthe and Charles. Thank your kind
+ friends. I long to hear about Godwin.--Your affectionate
+
+ MARY.
+
+ Have you called on Hogg? I would hardly advise you. Remember me,
+ sweet, in your sorrows as well as your pleasures; they will, I trust,
+ soften the one and heighten the other feeling. Adieu.
+
+ To Percy Bysshe Shelley,
+ 5 Gray's Inn Square, London.
+
+No time was lost in putting things on their legal footing. Shelley took
+Mary up to town, where the marriage ceremony took place at St. Mildred's
+Church, Broad Street, in presence of Godwin and Mrs. Godwin. On the
+previous day he had seen his daughter for the first time since her flight
+from his house two and a half years before.
+
+Both must have felt a strange emotion which, probably, neither of them
+allowed to appear.
+
+Mary for a fortnight left a blank in her journal. On her return to Clifton
+she thus shortly chronicled her days--
+
+ I have omitted writing my journal for some time. Shelley goes to
+ London and returns; I go with him; spend the time between Leigh Hunt's
+ and Godwin's. A marriage takes place on the 29th of December 1816.
+ Draw; read Lord Chesterfield and Locke.
+
+Godwin's relief and satisfaction were great indeed. His letter to his
+brother in the country, announcing his daughter's recent marriage with a
+baronet's eldest son, can only be compared for adroit manipulation of
+facts with a later letter to Mr. Baxter of Dundee, in which he tells of
+poor Fanny's having been attacked in Wales by an inflammatory fever "which
+carried her off."
+
+He now surpassed himself "in polished and cautious attentions" both to
+Shelley and Mary, and appeared to wish to compensate in every way for the
+red-hot, righteous indignation which, owing to wounded pride rather than
+to offended moral sense, he had thought it his duty to exhibit in the
+past.
+
+Shelley's heart yearned towards his two poor little children by Harriet,
+and to get possession of them was now his feverish anxiety. On this
+business he was obliged, within a week of his return to Bath, to go up
+again to London. During his absence, on the 13th of January, Clare's
+little girl, Byron's daughter, was born. "Four days of idleness," are
+Mary's only allusion to this event. It was communicated to the absent
+father by Shelley, in a long letter from London. He quite simply assumes
+the event to be an occasion of great rejoicing to all concerned, and
+expects Byron to feel the same. The infant, who afterwards developed into
+a singularly fascinating and lovely child, was described in enthusiastic
+terms by Mary as unusually beautiful and intelligent, even at this early
+stage. Their first name for her was Alba, or "the Dawn"; a reminiscence of
+Byron's nickname, "Albé."
+
+Most of this month of January, while Mary had Clare and the infant to look
+after, was of necessity spent by Shelley in London. Harriet's father, Mr.
+Westbrook, and his daughter Eliza had filed an appeal to the Court of
+Chancery, praying that her children might be placed in the custody of
+guardians to be appointed by the Court, and not in that of their father.
+On 24th January, poor little William's first birthday, the case was heard
+before Lord Chancellor Eldon. Mary, expecting that the decision would be
+known at once, waited in painful suspense to hear the result.
+
+ _Journal, Friday, January 24._--My little William's birthday. How many
+ changes have occurred during this little year; may the ensuing one be
+ more peaceful, and my William's star be a fortunate one to rule the
+ decision of this day. Alas! I fear it will be put off, and the
+ influence of the star pass away. Read the _Arcadia_ and _Amadis_; walk
+ with my sweet babe.
+
+Her fears were realised, for two months were to elapse ere judgment was
+pronounced.
+
+ _Saturday, January 25._--An unhappy day. I receive bad news and
+ determine to go up to London. Read the _Arcadia_ and _Amadis_. Letter
+ from Mrs. Godwin and William.
+
+Accordingly, next day, Mary went up to join her husband in town, and notes
+in her diary that she was met at the inn by Mrs. Godwin and William. Well
+might Shelley say of the ceremony that it was "magical in its effects."
+
+As it turned out, this was her final departure from Bath: she never
+returned there. On her arrival in London she was warmly welcomed by
+Shelley's new friends, the Leigh Hunts, at whose house most of her time
+was spent, and whose genial, social circle was most refreshing to her. The
+house at Marlow had been taken, and was now being prepared for her
+reception. Little William and his nurse, escorted by Clare, joined her at
+the Hunts on the 18th of February, but Clare herself stayed elsewhere. At
+the end of the month they all departed for their new home, and were
+established there early in March.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+MARCH 1817-MARCH 1818
+
+
+The Shelleys' new abode, although situated in a lovely part of the
+country, was cold and cheerless, and, at that bleak time of year, must
+have appeared at its worst. Albion House stood (and, though subdivided and
+much altered in appearance, still stands) in what is now the main street
+of Great Marlow, and at a considerable distance from the river. At the
+back the garden-plot rises gradually from the level of the house,
+terminating in a kind of artificial mound, overshadowed by a spreading
+cedar; a delightfully shady lounge in summer, but shutting off sky and
+sunshine from the house. There are two large, low, old-fashioned rooms;
+one on the ground floor, somewhat like a farmhouse kitchen; the other
+above it; both facing towards the garden. In one of these Shelley fitted
+up a library, little thinking that the dwelling, which he had rashly taken
+on a more than twenty years' lease, would be his home for only a year. The
+rest of the house accommodated Mary, Clare, the children and servants,
+and left plenty of room for visitors. Shelley was hospitality itself, and
+though he never was in greater trouble for money than during this year, he
+entertained a constant succession of guests. First among these was Godwin;
+next, and most frequent, the genial but needy Leigh Hunt, with all his
+family. With Mary, as with Shelley, he had quickly established himself on
+a footing of easy, affectionate friendliness, as may be inferred from
+Mary's letter, written to him during her first days at Marlow.
+
+ MARLOW, _1 o'clock, 5th March 1817_.
+
+ MY DEAR HUNT--Although you mistook me in thinking I wished you to
+ write about politics in your letters to me--as such a thought was very
+ far from me,--yet I cannot help mentioning your last week's
+ _Examiner_, as its boldness gave me extreme pleasure. I am very glad
+ to find that you wrote the leading article, which I had doubted, as
+ there was no significant hand. But though I speak of this, do not fear
+ that you will be teased by _me_ on these subjects when we enjoy your
+ company at Marlow. When there, you shall never be serious when you
+ wish to be merry, and have as many nuts to crack as there are words in
+ the Petitions to Parliament for Reform--a tremendous promise.
+
+ Have you never felt in your succession of nervous feelings one single
+ disagreeable truism gain a painful possession of your mind and keep it
+ for some months? A year ago, I remember, my private hours were all
+ made bitter by reflections on the certainty of death, and now the
+ flight of time has the same power over me. Everything passes, and one
+ is hardly conscious of enjoying the present until it becomes the past.
+ I was reading the other day the letters of Gibbon. He entreats Lord
+ Sheffield to come with all his family to visit him at Lausanne, and
+ dwells on the pleasure such a visit will occasion. There is a little
+ gap in the date of his letters, and then he complains that this
+ solitude is made more irksome by their having been there and departed.
+ So will it be with us in a few months when you will all have left
+ Marlow. But I will not indulge this gloomy feeling. The sun shines
+ brightly, and we shall be very happy in our garden this
+ summer.--Affectionately yours,
+
+ MARINA.
+
+Not only did Shelley keep open house for his friends; his kindliness and
+benevolence to the distressed poor in Marlow and the surrounding country
+was unbounded. Nor was he content to give money relief; he visited the
+cottagers; and made himself personally acquainted with them, their needs,
+and their sufferings.
+
+In all these labours of love and charity he was heartily and constantly
+seconded by Mary.
+
+ No more alone through the world's wilderness,
+ Although (he) trod the paths of high intent,
+ (He) journeyed now.[23]
+
+From the time of her union with him Mary had been his consoler, his
+cherished love, all the dearer to him for the thought that she was
+dependent on him and only on him for comfort and support, and
+enlightenment of mind; but yet she was a child,--a clever child,--sedate
+and thoughtful beyond her years, and full of true womanly devotion,--but
+still one whose first and only acquaintance with the world had been made
+by coming violently into collision with it, a dangerous experience, and
+hardening, especially if prolonged. From the time of her marriage a
+maturer, mellower tone is perceptible throughout her letters and writings,
+as though, the unnatural strain removed, and, above all, intercourse with
+her father restored, she glided naturally and imperceptibly into the place
+Nature intended her to fill, as responsible woman and wife, with social as
+well as domestic duties to fulfil.
+
+The suffering of the past two or three years had left her wiser if also
+sadder than before; already she was beginning to look on life with a calm
+liberal judgment of one who knew both sides of many questions, yet still
+her mind retained the simplicity and her spirit much of the buoyancy of
+youth. The unquenchable spring of love and enthusiasm in Shelley's breast,
+though it led him into errors and brought him grief and disillusionment,
+was a talisman that saved him from Byronic sarcasm, from the bitterness of
+recoil and the death of stagnation. He suffered from reaction, as all such
+natures must suffer, but Mary was by his side to steady and balance and
+support him, and to bring to him for his consolation the balm she had
+herself received from him. Well might he write--
+
+ Now has descended a serener hour,
+ And, with inconstant fortune, friends return;
+ Though suffering leaves the knowledge and the power
+ Which says: Let scorn be not repaid with scorn.[24]
+
+And consolation and support were sorely needed. In March Lord Chancellor
+Eldon pronounced the judgment by which he was deprived, on moral and
+religious grounds, of the custody of his two elder children. How bitterly
+he felt, how keenly he resented, this decree all the world knows. The
+paper which he drew up during this celebrated case, in which he declared,
+as far as he chose to declare them, his sentiments with regard to his
+separation from Harriet and his union with Mary, is the nearest approach
+to self-vindication Shelley ever made. But the decision of the Court cast
+a slur on his name, and on that of his second wife. The final arrangements
+about the children dragged on for many months. They were eventually given
+over to the guardianship of a clergyman, a stranger to their father, who
+had to set aside £200 a year of his income for their maintenance in exile.
+
+Meanwhile Godwin's exactions were incessant, and his demands, sometimes
+impossible to grant, were harder than ever to deal with now that they were
+couched in terms of friendship, almost of affection. On 9th March we find
+Shelley writing to him--
+
+ It gives me pain that I cannot send you the whole of what you want. I
+ enclose a cheque to within a few pounds of my possessions.
+
+On 22d March (Godwin has been begging again, but this time in behalf of
+his old assistant and amanuensis, Marshall)--
+
+ Marshall's proposal is one in which, however reluctantly, I must
+ refuse to engage. It is that I should grant bills to the amount of his
+ debts, which are to expire in thirty months.
+
+On 15th April Godwin writes on his own behalf--
+
+ The fact is I owe £400 on a similar score, beyond the £100 that I owed
+ in the middle of 1815; and without clearing this, my mind will never
+ be perfectly free for intellectual occupations. If this were done, I
+ am in hopes that the produce of _Mandeville_, and the sensible
+ improvement in the commercial transactions of Skinner Street would
+ make me a free man, perhaps, for the rest of my life....
+
+ My life wears away in lingering sorrow at the endless delays that
+ attend on this affair.... Once every two or three months I throw
+ myself prostrate beneath the feet of Taylor of Norwich, and my other
+ discounting friends, protesting that this is absolutely for the last
+ time. Shall this ever have an end? Shall I ever be my own man again?
+
+One can imagine how such a letter would work on his daughter's feelings.
+
+Nor was Charles Clairmont backward about putting in his claims, although
+his modest little requests require, like gems, to be extracted carefully
+from the discursive raptures, the eloquent flights of fancy and poetic
+description in which they are embedded. In January he had written from
+Bagnères de Bigorre, where he was "acquiring the language"--
+
+ Sometimes I hardly dare believe, situated as I am, that I ought for a
+ moment to nourish the feelings of which I am now going to talk to
+ you; at other times I am so thoroughly convinced of their infinite
+ utility with regard to the moral existence of a being with strong
+ sensations, or at all events with regard to mine, that I fly to this
+ subject as to a tranquillising medicine, which has the power of so
+ arranging and calming every violent and illicit sensation of the soul
+ as to spread over the frame a deep and delightful contentment, for
+ such is the effect produced upon me by a contemplation of the perfect
+ state of existence, the perfect state of social domestic happiness
+ which I propose to myself. My life has hitherto been a tissue of
+ irregularity, which I assure you I am little content to reflect
+ upon.... I have been always neglectful of one of the most precious
+ possessions which a young man can hold--of my character.... You will
+ now see the object of this letter.... I desire strongly to marry, and
+ to devote myself to the temperate, rational duties of human life.... I
+ see, I confess, some objections to this step.... I am not forgetful of
+ what I owe to Godwin and my Mother, but we are in a manner entirely
+ separated.... It is true my feelings towards my Mother are cold and
+ inactive, but my attachment and respect for Godwin are unalterable,
+ and will remain so to the last moment of my existence.... The news of
+ his death would be to me a stroke of the severest affliction; that of
+ my own Mother would be no more than the sorrow occasioned by the loss
+ of a common acquaintance.
+
+ ... Unless every obstacle on the part of the object of my affection
+ were laid aside, you may suppose I should not speak so decisively. She
+ is perfectly acquainted with every circumstance respecting me, and we
+ feel that we love and are suited to each other; we feel that we should
+ be exquisitely happy in being devoted to each other.
+
+ ... I feel that I could not offer myself to the family without
+ assuring them of my capability of commanding an annual sufficiency to
+ support a little _ménage_--that is to say, as near as I can obtain
+ information, 2000 francs, or about £80.... Do I dream, my dear
+ Shelley, when a gleam of gay hope gives me reason to doubt of the
+ possibility of my scheme?... Pray lose no time in writing to me, and
+ be as explicit as possible.
+
+The following extract is from a letter to Mary, written in August (the
+matrimonial scheme is now quite forgotten)--
+
+ I will begin by telling you that I received £10 some days ago, minus
+ the expenses.... I also received your letter, but not till after the
+ money.... I am most extremely vexed that Shelley will not oblige me
+ with a single word. It is now nearly six months that I have expected
+ from him a letter about my future plans.
+
+ Do, my dear Mary, persuade him to talk with you about them; and if he
+ always persists in remaining silent, I beg you will write for him, and
+ ask him what he would be inclined to approve.... Had I a little
+ fortune of £200 or £300 a year, nothing should ever tempt me to make
+ an effort to increase this golden sufficiency....
+
+ Respecting money matters.... I still owe (on the score of my
+ _pension_) nearly £15, this is all my debt here. Another month will
+ accumulate before I can receive your answer, and you will judge of
+ what will be necessary to me on the road, to whatever place I may be
+ destined. I cannot spend less than 3s. 6d. per day.
+
+ If Papa's novel is finished before you write, I wish to God you would
+ send it. I am now absolutely without money, but I have no occasion for
+ any, except for washing and postage, and for such little necessaries I
+ find no difficulty in borrowing a small sum.
+
+ If I knew Mamma's address, I should certainly write to her in France.
+ I have no heart to write to Skinner Street, for they will not answer
+ my letters. Perhaps, now that this haughty woman is absent, I should
+ obtain a letter. I think I shall make an effort with Fanny. As for
+ Clare, she has entirely forgotten that she has a brother in the
+ world.... Tell me if Godwin has been to visit you at Marlow; if you
+ see Fanny often; and all about the two Williams. What is Shelley
+ writing?
+
+Shelley, when this letter arrived, was writing _The Revolt of Islam_. To
+this poem, in spite of duns, sponges, and law's delays, his thoughts and
+time were consecrated during his first six months at Marlow; in spite,
+too, of his constant succession of guests; but society with him was not
+always a hindrance to poetic creation or intellectual work. Indeed, a
+congenial presence afforded him a kind of relief, a half-unconscious
+stimulus which yet was no serious interruption to thought, for it was
+powerless to recall him from his abstraction.
+
+Mary's life at Marlow was very different from what it had been at
+Bishopsgate and Bath. Her duties as house-mistress and hostess as well as
+Shelley's companion and helpmeet left her not much time for reverie. But
+her regular habits of study and writing stood her in good stead.
+_Frankenstein_ was completed and corrected before the end of May. It was
+offered to Murray, who, however, declined it, and was eventually published
+by Lackington.
+
+The negotiations with publishers calling her up to town, she paid a visit
+to Skinner Street. Shelley accompanied her, but was obliged to return to
+Marlow almost immediately, and as Mrs. Godwin also appears to have been
+absent, Mary stayed alone with her father in her old home. To him this
+was a pleasure.
+
+"Such a visit," he had written to Shelley, "will tend to bring back years
+that are passed, and make me young again. It will also operate to render
+us more familiar and intimate, meeting in this snug and quiet house, for
+such it appears to me, though I daresay you will lift up your hands, and
+wonder I can give it that appellation."
+
+To Mary every room in the house must have been fraught with unspeakable
+associations. Alone with the memories of those who were gone, of others
+who were alienated; conscious of the complete change in herself and
+transference of her sphere of sympathy, she must have felt, when Shelley
+left her, like a solitary wanderer in a land of shadows.
+
+ "I am very well here," she wrote, "but so intolerably restless that it
+ is painful to sit still for five minutes. Pray write. I hear so little
+ from Marlow that I can hardly believe that you and Willman live
+ there."
+
+Another train of mingled recollections was awakened by the fact of her
+chancing, one evening, to read through that third canto of _Childe Harold_
+which Byron had written during their summer in Switzerland together.
+
+ Do you remember, Shelley, when you first read it to me one evening
+ after returning from Diodati. The lake was before us, and the mighty
+ Jura. That time is past, and this will also pass, when I may weep to
+ read these words.... Death will at length come, and in the last
+ moment all will be a dream.
+
+What Mary felt was crystallised into expression by Shelley, not many
+months later--
+
+ The stream we gazed on then, rolled by,
+ Its waves are unreturning;
+ But we yet stand
+ In a lone land,
+ Like tombs to mark the memory
+ Of hopes and fears, which fade and flee
+ In the light of life's dim morning.
+
+On the last day of May, Mary returned to Marlow, where the Hunts were
+making a long stay. Externally life went quietly on. The summer was hot
+and beautiful, and they passed whole days in their boat or their garden,
+or in the woods. Their studies, as usual, were unremitting. Mary applied
+herself to the works of Tacitus, Buffon, Rousseau, and Gibbon. Shelley's
+reading at this time was principally Greek: Homer, Æschylus, and Plato.
+His poem was approaching completion. Mary, now that _Frankenstein_ was off
+her hands, busied herself in writing out the journal of their first
+travels. It was published, in December, as _Journal of a Six Weeks' Tour_,
+together with the descriptive letters from Geneva of 1816.
+
+But her peace and Shelley's was threatened by an undercurrent of ominous
+disturbance which gained force every day.
+
+Byron remained abroad. But Clare and Clare's baby remained with the
+Shelleys. At Bath she had passed as "Mrs." Clairmont, but now resumed her
+former style, while Alba was said to be the daughter of a friend in
+London, sent for her health into the country. As time, however, went by,
+and the infant still formed one of the Marlow household, curiosity, never
+long dormant, became aroused. Whose was this child? And if, as officious
+gossip was not slow to suggest, it was Clare's, then who was its father?
+As month after month passed without bringing any solution of this problem,
+the vilest reports arose concerning the supposed relations of the
+inhabitants of Albion House--false rumours that embittered the lives of
+Alba's generous protectors, but to which Shelley's unconventionality and
+unorthodox opinions, and the stigma attached to his name by the Chancery
+decree, gave a certain colour of probability, and which in part, though
+indirectly, conduced to his leaving England again,--as it proved, for
+ever.
+
+Again and again did he write to Byron, pointing out with great gentleness
+and delicacy, but still in the plainest terms, the false situation in
+which they were placed with regard to friends and even to servants by
+their effort to keep Clare's secret; suggesting, almost entreating, that,
+if no permanent decision could be arrived at, some temporary arrangement
+should at least be made for Alba's boarding elsewhere. Byron, at this
+time plunged in dissipation at Venice, shelved or avoided the subject as
+long as he could. Clare was friendless and penniless, and her chances of
+ever earning an honest living depended on her power of keeping up
+appearances and preserving her character before the world. But the child
+was a remarkably beautiful, intelligent, and engaging creature, and its
+mother, impulsive, uncontrolled, and reckless, was at no trouble to
+conceal her devotion to it, regardless of consequences, and of the fact
+that these consequences had to be endured by others.
+
+Those who had forfeited the world's kindness seemed, as such, to be the
+natural _protégés_ of Shelley; and even Mary, who, not long before, had
+summed up all her earthly wishes in two items,--"a garden, _et absentia
+Claire_,"--stood by her now in spite of all. But their letters make it
+perfectly evident that they were fully alive to the danger that threatened
+them, and that, though they willingly harboured the child until some safe
+and fitting asylum should be found for it, they had never contemplated its
+residing permanently with them.
+
+To Mary Shelley this state of things brought one bitter personal grief and
+disappointment in the loss of her earliest friend, Isabel or Isobel
+Baxter, now married to Mr. David Booth, late brewer and subsequently
+schoolmaster at Newburgh-on-Tay, a man of shrewd and keen intellect, an
+immense local reputation for learning, and an estimation of his own gifts
+second to that of none of his admirers.
+
+The Baxters, as has already been said, were people of independent mind, of
+broad and liberal views; full of reverence and admiration for the
+philosophical writings of Godwin. Mary, in her extreme youth and
+inexperience, had quite expected that Isabel would have upheld her action
+when she first left her father's house with Shelley. In that she was
+disappointed, as was, after all, not surprising.
+
+Now, however, her friend, whose heart must have been with her all along,
+would surely feel justified in following that heart's dictates, and would
+return to the familiar, affectionate friendship which survives so many
+differences of opinion. And her hope received an encouragement when, in
+August, Mr. Baxter, Isabel's father, accepted an invitation to stay at
+Marlow. He arrived on the 1st of September, full of doubts as to what sort
+of place he was coming to,--apprehensions which, after a very short
+intercourse with Shelley, were changed into surprise and delight.
+
+But his visit was cut short by the birth, on the very next day, of Mary's
+little girl, Clara. He found it expedient to depart for a time, but
+returned later in the month for a longer stay.
+
+This second visit more than confirmed his first impression, and he wrote
+to his daughter in warm, nay, enthusiastic praise of Shelley, against whom
+Isabel was, not unnaturally, much prejudiced, so much so, it seems, as to
+blind her even to the merits of his writings.
+
+After a warm panegyric of Shelley as
+
+ A being of rare genius and talent, of truly republican frugality and
+ plainness of manners, and of a soundness of principle and delicacy of
+ moral tact that might put to shame (if shame they had) many of his
+ detractors,--and withal so amiable that you have only to be half an
+ hour in his company to convince you that there is not an atom of
+ malevolence in his whole composition.
+
+Mr. Baxter proceeds--
+
+ Is there any wonder that I should become attached to such a man,
+ holding out the hand of kindness and friendship towards me? Certainly
+ not. Your praise of his book[25] put me in mind of what Pope says of
+ Addison--
+
+ Damn with faint praise; assent with civil leer,
+ And, without sneering, others teach to sneer.
+
+ [You say] "some parts appear to be well written, but the arguments
+ appear to me to be neither new nor very well managed." After Hume such
+ a publication is quite puerile! As to the arguments not being new, it
+ would be a wonder indeed if any new arguments could be adduced in a
+ controversy which has been carried on almost since ever letters were
+ known. As to their not being well managed, I should be happy if you
+ would condescend on the particular instances of their being ill
+ managed; it was the first of Shelley's works I had read. I read it
+ with the notion that it _could_ only contain silly, crude, undigested
+ and puerile remarks on a worn-out subject; and yet I was unable to
+ discover any of that want of management which you complain of; but,
+ God help me, I thought I saw in it everything that was opposite. As
+ to its being puerile to write on such a subject after David Hume, I by
+ no means think that he has exhausted the subject. I think rather that
+ he has only proposed it--thrown it out, as it were, for a matter of
+ discussion to others who might come after him, and write in a less
+ bigoted, more liberal, and more enlightened age than the one he lived
+ in. Think only how many great men's labours we should decree to be
+ puerile if we were to hold everything puerile that has been written on
+ this subject since the days of Hume! Indeed, my dear, the remark
+ altogether savours more of the envy and illiberality of one jealous of
+ his talents than the frankness and candour characteristic of my
+ Isobel. Think, my dear, think for a moment what you would have said of
+ this work had it come from Robert,[26] who is as old as Shelley was
+ when he wrote it, or had it come from me, or even from----O! I must
+ not say David:[27] he, to be sure, is far above any such puerility.
+
+Her father's letter made Isabel waver, but in vain. It had no effect on
+Mr. Booth, who had been at the trouble of collecting and believing all the
+scandals about Alba, or "Miss Auburn," as she seems to have been called.
+He was not one to be biassed by personal feelings or beguiled by fair
+appearances, in the face of stubborn, unaccountable facts. He preferred to
+take the facts and draw his own inference--an inference which apparently
+seemed to him no improbable one.
+
+For a long time nothing decisive was said or done, but while the fate of
+her early friendship hung in the balances, Mary's anxiety for some
+settlement about Alba became almost intolerable to her, weighing on her
+spirits, and helping, with other depressing causes, to retard her
+restoration to health.
+
+On the 19th of September she summed up in her journal the heads of the
+seventeen days after Clara's birth during which she had written nothing.
+
+ I am confined Tuesday, 2d. Read _Rhoda_, Pastor's _Fireside_,
+ _Missionary_, _Wild Irish Girl_, _The Anaconda_, _Glenarvon_, first
+ volume of Percy's _Northern Antiquities_. Bargain with Lackington
+ concerning _Frankenstein_.
+
+ Letter from Albé (Byron). An unamiable letter from Godwin about Mrs.
+ Godwin's visits. Mr. Baxter returns to town. Thursday, 4th, Shelley
+ writes his poem; his health declines. Friday, 19th, Hunts arrive.
+
+As the autumn advanced it became evident that the sunless house at Marlow
+was exceedingly cold, and far too dreary a winter residence to be
+desirable for one of Shelley's feeble constitution, or even for Mary and
+her infant children. Shelley's health grew worse and worse. His poem was
+finished and dedicated to Mary in the beautiful lines beginning--
+
+ So now my summer-task is ended, Mary,
+ And I return to thee, mine own heart's home;
+ As to his Queen some victor Knight of Faëry,
+ Earning bright spoils for her enchanted dome;
+ Nor thou disdain, that ere my fame become
+ A star among the stars of mortal night,
+ If it indeed may cleave its natal gloom,
+ Its doubtful promise thus I would unite
+ With thy beloved name, thou Child of love and light.
+
+But the reaction from the "agony and bloody sweat of intellectual
+travail," the troubles and griefs of the past year, and the ceaseless
+worry about money, all told injuriously on his physical state. He had to
+be constantly away from his home, up in town, on business; and his
+thoughts turned longingly again towards Italy. Byron had signified his
+consent to receive and provide for his daughter, subject to certain
+stringent conditions, chief among which was the child's complete
+separation from its mother, from the time it passed into his keeping. In
+writing to him on 24th September, Shelley adverts to his own wish to
+winter at Pisa, and the possibility in this case of his being himself
+Alba's escort to Italy.
+
+ "Now, dearest, let me talk to you," he writes to Mary. "I think we
+ ought to go to Italy. I think my health might receive a renovation
+ there, for want of which perhaps I should never entirely overcome that
+ state of diseased action which is so painful to my beloved. I think
+ Alba ought to be with her father. This is a thing of incredible
+ importance to the happiness, perhaps, of many human beings. It might
+ be managed without our going there. Yes; but not without an expense
+ which would, in fact, suffice to settle us comfortably in a spot where
+ I might be regaining that health which you consider so valuable. It is
+ valuable to you, my own dearest. I see too plainly that you will never
+ be quite happy till I am well. Of myself I do not speak, for I feel
+ only for you."
+
+He goes on to discuss the practicability of the plan from the financial
+point of view, calculating what sum they may hope to get by the sale of
+their lease and furniture, and how much he may be able to borrow, either
+from his kind friend Horace Smith, or from money-lenders on _post obits_,
+a ruinous process to which he was, all his life, forced to resort.
+
+Poor Mary in the chilly house at Marlow, with her three-weeks-old baby,
+her strength far from re-established, and her house full of guests, who
+made themselves quite at home, was not likely to take the most sanguine
+view of affairs.
+
+ _25th September 1817._
+
+ You tell me, dearest, to write you long letters, but I do not know
+ whether I can to-day, as I am rather tired. My spirits, however, are
+ much better than they were, and perhaps your absence is the cause. Ah!
+ my love! you cannot guess how wretched it was to see your languor and
+ increasing illness. I now say to myself, perhaps he is better; but
+ then I watched you every moment, and every moment was full of pain
+ both to you and to me. Write, my love, a long account of what Lawrence
+ says; I shall be very anxious until I hear.
+
+ I do not see a great deal of our guests; they rise late, and walk all
+ the morning. This is something like a contrary fit of Hunt's, for I
+ meant to walk to-day, and said so; but they left me, and I hardly wish
+ to take my first walk by myself; however, I must to-morrow, if he
+ still shows the same want of _tact_. Peacock dines here every day,
+ _uninvited_, to drink his bottle. I have not seen him; he morally
+ disgusts me; and Marianne says that he is very ill-tempered.
+
+ I was much pained last night to hear from Mr. Baxter that Mr. Booth is
+ ill-tempered and jealous towards Isabel; and Mr. Baxter thinks she
+ half regrets her marriage; so she is to be another victim of that
+ ceremony. Mr. Baxter is not at all pleased with his son-in-law; but
+ we can talk of that when we meet.
+
+ ... A letter came from Godwin to-day, very short. You will see him;
+ tell me how he is. You are loaded with business, the event of most of
+ which I am anxious to learn, and none so much as whether you can do
+ anything for my Father.
+
+
+ MARLOW, _26th September 1817_.
+
+ You tell me to decide between Italy and the sea. I think, dearest,
+ if--what you do not seem to doubt, but which I do, a little--our
+ finances are in sufficiently good a state to bear the expense of the
+ journey, our inclination ought to decide. I feel some reluctance at
+ quitting our present settled state, but as we _must_ leave Marlow, I
+ do not know that stopping short on this side the Channel would be
+ pleasanter to me than crossing it. At any rate, my love, do not let us
+ encumber ourselves with a lease again.... By the bye, talking of
+ authorship, do get a sketch of Godwin's plan from him. I do not think
+ that I ought to get out of the habit of writing, and I think that the
+ thing he talked of would just suit me. I am glad to hear that Godwin
+ is well.... As to Mrs. Godwin, something very analogous to disgust
+ arises whenever I mention her. That last accusation of Godwin's[28]
+ adds bitterness to every feeling I ever felt against her.... Mr.
+ Baxter thinks that Mr. Booth keeps Isabel from writing to me. He has
+ written to her to-day warmly in praise of us both, and telling her by
+ all means not to let the acquaintance cool, and that in such a case
+ her loss would be much greater than mine. He has taken a prodigious
+ fancy to us, and is continually talking of and praising "Queen Mab,"
+ which he vows is the best poem of modern days.
+
+
+ MARLOW, _28th September 1817_.
+
+ DEAREST LOVE--Clare arrived yesterday night, and whether it might be
+ that she was in a croaking humour (in ill spirits she certainly was),
+ or whether she represented things as they really were, I know not,
+ but certainly affairs did not seem to wear a very good face. She talks
+ of Harriet's debts to a large amount, and something about Longdill's
+ having undertaken for them, so that they must be paid. She mentioned
+ also that you were entering into a _post obit_ transaction. Now this
+ requires our serious consideration on one account. These things (_post
+ obits_), as you well know, are affairs of wonderful length; and if you
+ must complete one before you settle on going to Italy, Alba's
+ departure ought certainly not to be delayed.... You have not mentioned
+ yet to Godwin your thoughts of Italy; but if you determine soon, I
+ would have you do it, as these things are always better to be talked
+ of some days before they take place. I took my first walk to-day. What
+ a dreadfully cold place this house is! I was shivering over a fire,
+ and the garden looked cold and dismal; but as soon as I got into the
+ road, I found, to my infinite surprise, that the sun was shining, and
+ the air warm and delightful.... I will now tell you something that
+ will make you laugh, if you are not too teased and ill to laugh at
+ anything. Ah! dearest, is it so? You know now how melancholy it makes
+ me sometimes to think how ill and comfortless you may be, and I so far
+ away from you. But to my story. In Elise's last letter to her _chere
+ amie_, Clare put in that Madame Clairmont was very ill, so that her
+ life was in danger, and added, in Elise's person, that she (Elise) was
+ somewhat shocked to perceive that Mademoiselle Clairmont's gaiety was
+ not abated by the _douloureuse_ situation of her amiable sister. Jenny
+ replies--
+
+ "Mon amie, avec quel chagrin j'apprends la maladie de cette jolie et
+ aimable Madame Clairmont; pauvre chère dame, comme je la plains. Sans
+ doute elle aime tendrement son mari, et en être séparée pour
+ toujours--en avoir la certitude elle sentir--quelle cruelle chose;
+ qu'il doit être un méchant homme pour quitter sa femme. Je ne sais ce
+ qu'il y a, mais cette jeune et jolie femme me tient singulièrement au
+ coeur; je l'avoue que je n'aime point mademoiselle sa soeur.
+ Comment! avoir à craindre pour les jours d'une si charmante soeur,
+ et n'en pas perdre un grain de gaîté; elle me met en colere."
+
+ Here is a noble resentment thrown away! Really I think this
+ _mystification_ of Clare's a little wicked, although laughable. I am
+ just now surrounded by babes. Alba is scratching and crowing, William
+ is amusing himself with wrapping a shawl round him, and Miss Clara
+ staring at the fire.... Adieu, dearest love. I want to say again, that
+ you may fully answer me, how very, _very_ anxious I am to know the
+ whole extent of your present difficulties and pursuits; and remember
+ also that if this _post obit_ is to be a long business, Alba must go
+ before it is finished. Willy is just going to bed. When I ask him
+ where you are, he makes me a long speech that I do not understand. But
+ I know my own one, that you are away, and I wish that you were with
+ me. Come soon, my own only love.--Your affectionate girl,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+ _P.S._--What of _Frankenstein_? and your own poem--have you fixed on a
+ name? Give my love to Godwin when Mrs. Godwin is not by, or you must
+ give it her, and I do not love her.
+
+
+ _5th October 1817._
+
+ ... How happy I shall be, my own dear love, to see you again. Your
+ last was so very, very short a visit; and after you were gone I
+ thought of so many things I had to say to you, and had no time to say.
+ Come Tuesday, dearest, and let us enjoy some of each other's company;
+ come and see your sweet babes and the little Commodore;[29] she is
+ lively and an uncommonly interesting child. I never see her without
+ thinking of the expressions in my mother's letters concerning Fanny.
+ If a mother's eyes were not partial, she seemed like this Alba. She
+ mentions her intelligent eyes and great vivacity; but this is a
+ melancholy subject.
+
+But Shelley's enforced absences became more and more frequent; brief
+visits to his home were all that he could snatch. As the desire to escape
+grew stronger, the fair prospect only seemed to recede. New complications
+appeared in the shape of Harriet's creditors, who pressed hard on Shelley
+for a settlement of their hitherto unknown and unsuspected claims. So
+perilous with regard to them was his position that Mary herself was fain
+to caution him to stay away and out of sight for fear of arrest. It was
+almost more than she could do to keep up the mask of cheerfulness, yet her
+letters of counsel and encouragement were her husband's mainstay.
+
+ "Dearest and best of living beings," he wrote in October, "how much do
+ your letters console me when I am away from you. Your letter to-day
+ gave me the greatest delight; so soothing, so powerful and quiet are
+ your expressions, that it is almost like folding you to my heart....
+ My own Mary, would it not be better for you to come to London at once?
+ I think we could quite as easily do something with the house if you
+ were in London--that is to say, all of you--as in the country."
+
+The next two letters were written in much depression. She could not get up
+her strength; she dared not indulge in the hope of going abroad, for she
+realised, as Shelley could not do, how little money they would have and
+how much they already owed. Their income, and more, went in supporting and
+paying for other people, and left them nothing to live on! Clare was
+unsettled, unhappy, and petulant. Godwin, ignorant like the rest of the
+world of her story and her present situation, unaware of Shelley's
+proposed move, and certain to oppose it with the energy of despair when he
+heard of it, was an impending visitor.
+
+ _16th October 1817._
+
+ So you do not come to-night love, nor any night; you are always away,
+ and this absence is long and becomes each day more dreary. Poor
+ Curran! so he is dead, and a sod on his breast, as four years ago I
+ heard him prophesy would be the case within that year.
+
+ Nothing is done, you say in your letter, and indeed I do not expect
+ anything will be done these many months. This, if you continued well,
+ would not give me so much pain, except on Alba's account. If she were
+ with her father, I could wait patiently, but the thought of what may
+ come "between the cup and the lip"--between now and her arrival at
+ Venice--is a heavy burthen on my soul. He may change his mind, or go
+ to Greece, or to the devil; and then what happens?
+
+ My dearest Shelley, be not, I entreat you, too self-negligent; yet
+ what can you do? If you were here, you might retort that question upon
+ me; but when I write to you I indulge false hopes of some miraculous
+ answer springing up in the interval. Does not Longdill[30] treat you
+ ill? he makes out long bills and does nothing. You say nothing of the
+ late arrest, and what may be the consequences, and may they not detain
+ you? and may you not be detained many months? for Godwin must not be
+ left unprovided. All these things make me run over the months, and
+ know not where to put my finger and say--during this year your Italian
+ journey shall commence. Yet when I say that it is on Alba's account
+ that I am anxious, this is only when you are away, and with too much
+ faith I believe you to be well. When I see you, drooping and languid,
+ in pain, and unable to enjoy life, then on your account I ardently
+ wish for bright skies and Italian sun.
+
+ You will have received, I hope, the manuscript that I sent yesterday
+ in a parcel to Hookham. I am glad to hear that the printing goes on
+ well; bring down all that you can with you.
+
+ If we were free and had no anxiety, what delight would Godwin's visit
+ give me; as it is, I fear that it will make me dreadfully miserable.
+ Cannot you come with him? By the way you write I hardly expect you
+ this week, but is it really so?
+
+ I think Alba's remaining here exceedingly dangerous, yet I do not see
+ what is to be done. Your babes are well. Clara already replies to her
+ nurse's caresses by smiles, and Willy kisses her with great
+ tenderness.--Your affectionate
+
+ MARY.
+
+ _P.S._--I wish you would purchase a gown for Milly,[31] with a little
+ note with it from Marianne,[32] that it may appear to come from her.
+ You can get one, I should think, for 12s. or 14s.; but it must be
+ _stout_; such a kind of one as we gave to the servant at Bath.
+
+ Willy has just said good-night to me; he kisses the paper and says
+ good-night to you. Clara is asleep.
+
+
+ MARLOW, _Saturday, 18th October 1817_.
+
+ Mr. Wright has called here to-day, my dearest Shelley, and wished to
+ see you. I can hardly have any doubt that his business is of the same
+ nature as that which made him call last week. You will judge, but it
+ appears to me that an arrest on Monday will follow your arrival on
+ Sunday.
+
+ My love, you ought not to come down. A long, long week has passed, and
+ when at length I am allowed to expect you, I am obliged to tell you
+ not to come. This is very cruel. You may easily judge that I am not
+ happy; my spirits sink during this continued absence. Godwin, too,
+ will come down; he will talk as if we meant to stay here; and I
+ must--must I?--tell fifty prevarications or direct _lies_. When I
+ thought that you would be here also, I knew that your presence would
+ lead to general conversation; but Clare will absent herself. We shall
+ be alone, and he will talk of your private affairs. I am sure that I
+ shall never be able to support it.
+
+ And when is this to end? Italy appears to me farther off than ever,
+ and the idea of it never enters my mind but Godwin enters also, and
+ makes it lie heavy at my heart. Had you not better speak? you might
+ relieve me from a heavy burden. Surely he cannot be blind to the many
+ heavy reasons that urge us. Your health, the indispensable one, if
+ every other were away. I assure you that if my Father said, "Yes, you
+ must go; do what you can for me; I know that you will do all you can;"
+ I should, far from writing so melancholy a letter, prepare everything
+ with a light heart; arrange our affairs here; and come up to town, to
+ await patiently the effect of your efforts. I know not whether it is
+ early habit or affection, but the idea of his silent quiet
+ disapprobation makes me weep as it did in the days of my childhood.
+
+ I shall not see you to-morrow. God knows when I shall see you! Clare
+ is for ever wearying with her idle and childish complaints. Can you
+ not send me some consolation?--Ever your affectionate
+
+ MARY.
+
+The fears of an arrest were not realised. Early in November Shelley came
+for three days to Marlow, after which Mary went up to stay with him in
+London.
+
+During this fortnight's visit the question of renewed intercourse with
+Isabel Booth was practically decided, and decided against Mary. She had
+written on the 4th of November to Mr. Baxter inviting Christy to come on a
+visit. Subsequently a plan was started for Isabel Booth's accompanying
+the Shelleys in their Italian trip,--they little dreaming that when they
+left England it would be for the last time.
+
+Apparently Mr. Baxter made some effort to bring Mr. Booth round to his way
+of thinking. The two passed an evening with the Shelleys at their
+lodgings. But it availed nothing, and in the end poor Mr. Baxter was
+driven himself to write to Shelley, breaking off the acquaintance. The
+letter was written much against the grain, and contrary to the convictions
+of the writer, who seems to have been much put to it to account for his
+action, the true grounds for which he could not bring himself to give.
+Shelley, however, was not slow to divine the real instigator in the
+affair, and wrote back a letter which, by its temperance, simplicity, and
+dignity, must have pricked Baxter to the heart. Mary added a playful
+postscript, showing that she still clung to hope--
+
+ MY DEAR SIR--You see I prophesied well three months ago, when you were
+ here. I then said that I was sure Mr. Booth was averse to our
+ intercourse, and would find some means to break it off. I wish I had
+ you by the fire here in my little study, and it might be "double,
+ double, toil and trouble," but I could quickly convince you that your
+ girls are not below me in station, and that, in fact, I am the fittest
+ companion for them in the world, but I postpone the argument until I
+ see you, for I know (pardon me) that _viva voce_ is all in all with
+ you.
+
+Two or three times more Mary wrote to Isabel, but the correspondence
+dropped and the friends met no more for many years.
+
+The preparations for their migration extended over two or three months
+more. During January Shelley suffered much from the renewal of an attack
+of ophthalmia, originally caught while visiting the poor people at Marlow.
+The house there was finally sold, and on the 10th of February they quitted
+it and went up to London. Their final departure from England did not take
+place until March. They made the most of their time of waiting, seeing as
+much of their friends and of objects of interest as circumstances allowed.
+
+ _Journal, Thursday, February 12_ (Mary).--Go to the Indian Library and
+ the Panorama of Rome. On Friday, 13th, spend the morning at the
+ British Museum looking at the Elgin marbles. On Saturday, 14th, go to
+ Hunt's. Clare and Shelley go to the opera. On Sunday, 15th, Mr.
+ Bransen, Peacock, and Hogg dine with us.
+
+ _Wednesday, February 18._--Spend the day at Hunt's. On Thursday, 19th,
+ dine at Horace Smith's, and copy Shelley's Eclogue. On Friday, 20th,
+ copy Shelley's critique on _Rhododaphne_. Go to the Apollonicon with
+ Shelley. On Saturday, 21st, copy Shelley's critique, and go to the
+ opera in the evening. Spend Sunday at Hunt's. On Monday, 23d February,
+ finish copying Shelley's critique, and go to the play in the
+ evening--_The Bride of Abydos_. On Tuesday go to the opera--_Figaro_.
+ On Wednesday Hunt dines with us. Shelley is not well.
+
+ _Sunday, March 1._--Read Montaigne. Spend the evening at Hunt's. On
+ Monday, 2d, Shelley calls on Mr. Baxter. Isabel Booth is arrived, but
+ neither comes nor sends. Go to the play in the evening with Hunt and
+ Marianne, and see a new comedy damned. On Thursday, 5th, Papa calls,
+ and Clare visits Mrs. Godwin. On Sunday, 8th, we dine at Hunt's, and
+ meet Mr. Novello. Music.
+
+ _Monday, March 9._--Christening the children.
+
+This was doubtless a measure of precaution, lest the omission of any such
+ceremony might in some future time operate as a civil disadvantage towards
+the children. They received the names of William, Clara Everina, and Clara
+Allegra.
+
+ _Tuesday, March 10._--Packing. Hunt and Marianne spend the day with
+ us. Mary Lamb calls. Papa in the evening. Our adieus.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 11._--Travel to Dover.
+
+ _Thursday, March 12._--France. Discussion of whether we should cross.
+ Our passage is rough; a sick lady is frightened and says the Lord's
+ Prayer. We arrive at Calais for the third time.
+
+Mary little thought how long it would be before she saw the English shores
+again, nor that, when she returned, it would be alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+MARCH 1818-JUNE 1819
+
+
+The external events of the four Italian years have been repeatedly told
+and profusely commented on by Shelley's various biographers. Summed up,
+they are the history of a long strife between the intellectual and
+creative stimulus of lovely scenes and immortal works of art on the one
+hand, and the wearing friction of vexatious outward events and crushing
+afflictions on the other. For Shelley they were a period of rapid, of
+exotic, mental growth and development, interspersed with intervals of
+exhaustion and depression, of restlessness, or unnatural calm. For Mary
+they were years of courageous effort, of heroic resistance to overpowering
+odds. She endured, and she overcame; but some victories are obtained at
+such cost as to be at the time scarcely distinguishable from defeats, and
+the story of hers survives in no one act or work of her own, but in the
+_Cenci_, _Prometheus Unbound_, _Epipsychidion_, and _Adonais_.
+
+The travellers proceeded, _viâ_ Lyons and Chambéry, to Milan, whence
+Shelley and Mary made an expedition to Como in search of a house. After
+looking at several,--one "beautifully situated, but too small," another
+"out of repair, with an excellent garden, but full of serpents," a third
+which seemed promising, but which they failed to get,--they appear to have
+given up the scheme altogether, and to have returned to Milan. For the
+next week they were in frequent correspondence with Byron on the subject
+of Allegra. This had to be carried on entirely by Shelley, as Byron
+refused all communication with Clare, and undertook to provide for his
+child on the sole condition that, from the day it left her, its mother
+entirely relinquished it, and never saw it again.
+
+This appeared to Shelley cruelly and needlessly harsh. His own paternal
+heart was still bleeding from fresh wounds, and although, as he again
+pointed out, his interest in the matter was entirely on the opposite side
+to Clare's, he pleaded her cause with earnestness. He did not touch on the
+question of Byron's attitude towards Clare herself, he contended only for
+the mother and child, in letters as remarkable for their simple good sense
+as for their perfect delicacy and courtesy of expression, and every line
+of which is inspired with the unselfish ardour of a heart full of love.
+
+Poor Clare herself was dreadfully unhappy. Any illusion she may ever have
+had about Byron had long been over, but she had possibly not realised
+before coming to Italy the perfect horror he had of seeing her; an event,
+as he told his friends the Hoppners, which would make it necessary for him
+instantly to quit Venice. The reports about his present mode of life,
+which, even at Milan did not fail to reach them, were, to say the least,
+not encouraging; and from a later letter of Shelley's it would seem that
+he warned Clare now, at the last minute, to pause and reflect before she
+sent Allegra away to such a father. She, however, was determined that till
+seven years old, at least, the child should be with one or other of its
+parents, and Byron would only consent to be that one on condition that it
+grew up in ignorance of its mother. It appears to have been assumed by all
+parties that, in refusing to hand Allegra altogether over to her father,
+they would be sacrificing for her the prospect of a brilliant position and
+fortune. Even supposing that this had been so, it is impossible to think
+that such a consideration would have weighed, at any rate with the
+Shelleys, but for the impossibility of keeping Clare's secret if Allegra
+remained with them, and the constant danger of worse scandal to which her
+unexplained presence must expose them. Clare, distracted with grief as she
+was, yet dreaded discovery acutely, and firmly believed she was acting for
+Allegra's best interests in parting from her.
+
+It ended in the little girl's being sent to Venice on the 28th of April in
+the care of Elise, the Swiss nurse, with whom Mary Shelley, for Allegra's
+sake, consented to part, though she valued her very much, but who, not
+long afterwards, returned to her.
+
+As soon as they had gone, the Shelleys and Clare left Milan; and
+travelling leisurely through Parma, Modena, Bologna, and Pisa (where a
+letter from Elise reached them), they arrived on the 9th of May at
+Leghorn. Here they made the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. Gisborne. The
+lady, formerly Mrs. Reveley, had been an intimate friend of Mary
+Wollstonecraft's (when Mary Godwin), and had been so warmly admired by
+Godwin before his first marriage as to arouse some jealousy in Mr.
+Reveley. Indeed, his admiration had been returned by so warm a feeling of
+friendship on her part that Godwin was frankly surprised when on his
+pressing her, shortly after her widowhood, to become his second wife, she
+refused him point blank, nor, by all his eloquence, was to be persuaded to
+change her mind. A beautiful girl, and highly accomplished, she had
+married very young, and had one son of her first marriage, Henry Reveley,
+a young civil engineer, who was now living in Italy with her and her
+second husband.
+
+This Mr. Gisborne struck Mary as being the reverse of intelligent, and is
+described in Shelley's letters in most uncomplimentary terms. His
+appearance cannot certainly have been in his favour, but that there must
+have been more in him than met the eye seems also beyond a doubt, as, at a
+later time, Shelley addressed to him some of his most interesting and most
+intimate letters.
+
+To Mrs. Gisborne they bore a letter of introduction from Godwin, and it
+was not long before her acquaintance with Mrs. Shelley ripened into
+friendship. "Reserved, yet with easy manners;" so Mary described her at
+their first meeting. On the next day the two had a long conversation about
+Mary's father and mother. Of her mother, indeed, Mary learned more from
+Mrs. Gisborne than from any one else. She wrote her father an immediate
+account of these first interviews, and his answer is unusually
+demonstrative in expression.
+
+ I received last Friday a delightful letter from you. I was extremely
+ gratified by your account of Mrs. Gisborne. I have not seen her, I
+ believe, these twenty years; I think not since she was Mrs. Gisborne;
+ and yet by your description she is still a delightful woman. How
+ inexpressibly pleasing it is to call back the recollection of years
+ long past, and especially when the recollection belongs to a person in
+ whom one deeply interested oneself, as I did in Mrs. Reveley. I can
+ hardly hope for so great a pleasure as it would be to me to see her
+ again.
+
+At the Bagni di Lucca, where they settled themselves for a time, Mary
+heard from her father of the review of _Frankenstein_ in the _Quarterly_.
+Peacock had reported it to be unfavourable, so it was probably a relief
+to find that the reviewers "did not pretend to find anything blasphemous
+in the story."
+
+ They say that the _gentleman_ who has written the book is a _man of
+ talents_, but that he employs his powers in a way disagreeable to
+ them.
+
+All this, however, tended to keep Mary's old ardour alive. She never was
+more strongly impelled to write than at this time; she felt her powers
+fresh and strong within her; all she wanted was some motive, some
+suggestion to guide her in the choice of a subject. While at Leghorn
+Shelley had come upon a manuscript account, which Mary transcribed, of
+that terrible story of the _Cenci_ afterwards dramatised by himself. His
+first idea was that Mary should take it for the subject of a play. He was
+convinced that she had dramatic talent as a writer, and that he had none;
+two erroneous conclusions, as the sequel showed. But such an assurance
+from such a source could not but be flattering to Mary's ambition, and
+stimulating to her innate love of literary work. During all the early part
+of their time in Italy their thoughts were busy with some subject for
+Mary's tragedy. One proposed and strongly urged by Shelley was _Charles
+the First_. It was partially carried out by himself before his death, and
+perhaps occurred to him now in connection with a suggestion of Godwin's
+for a book very different in scope and character, and far better suited to
+Mary's genius than the drama. It would have been a series of _Lives of the
+Commonwealth's Men_; "our calumniated Republicans," as Shelley calls them.
+
+She was immensely attracted by the idea, but was forced to abandon it at
+the time, for lack of the necessary books of reference. But Shelley, who
+believed her powers to be of the highest order, was as eager as she
+herself could be for her to undertake original work of some kind, and was
+constantly inciting her to effort in this direction.
+
+More than two months were spent at the Bagni di Lucca--reading, writing,
+riding, and enjoying to the full the balmy Italian skies. Shelley, in whom
+the creative mood was more or less dormant, and who "despaired of
+providing anything original," translated the _Symposium_ of Plato, partly
+as an exercise, partly to "give Mary some idea of the manners and feelings
+of the Athenians, so different on many subjects from that of any other
+community that ever existed." Together they studied Italian, and Shelley
+reported Mary's progress to her father.
+
+ Mary has just finished Ariosto with me, and indeed has attained a very
+ competent knowledge of Italian. She is now reading Livy.
+
+She also transcribed his translation of the _Symposium_, and his Eclogue
+_Rosalind and Helen_, which, begun at Marlow, had been thrown aside till
+she found it and persuaded him to complete it.
+
+Meanwhile Clare hungered and thirsted for a sight of Allegra, of whom she
+heard occasionally from Elise, and who was not now under Byron's roof, but
+living, by his permission, with Mrs. Hoppner, wife of the British Consul
+at Venice, who had volunteered to take temporary charge of her. Her
+distress moved Shelley to so much commiseration that he resolved or
+consented to do what must have been supremely disagreeable to him. He went
+himself to Venice, hoping by a personal interview to modify in some degree
+Byron's inexorable resolution. Clare accompanied him, unknown, of course,
+to Byron. They started on the 17th of August. On that day Mary wrote the
+following letter to Miss Gisborne--
+
+ MRS. SHELLEY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ BAGNI DI LUCCA, _17th August 1818_.
+
+ MY DEAR MADAM--It gave me great pleasure to receive your letter after
+ so long a silence, when I had begun to conjecture a thousand reasons
+ for it, and among others illness, in which I was half right. Indeed, I
+ am much concerned to hear of Mr. R.'s attacks, and sincerely hope that
+ nothing will retard his speedy recovery. His illness gives me a slight
+ hope that you might now be induced to come to the baths, if it were
+ even to try the effect of the hot baths. You would find the weather
+ cool; for we already feel in this part of the world that the year is
+ declining, by the cold mornings and evenings. I have another selfish
+ reason to wish that you would come, which I have a great mind not to
+ mention, yet I will not omit it, as it might induce you. Shelley and
+ Clare are gone; they went to-day to Venice on important business; and
+ I am left to take care of the house. Now, if all of you, or any of
+ you, would come and cheer my solitude, it would be exceedingly kind. I
+ daresay you would find many of your friends here; among the rest there
+ is the Signora Felichi, whom I believe you knew at Pisa. Shelley and I
+ have ridden almost every evening. Clare did the same at first, but she
+ has been unlucky, and once fell from her horse, and hurt her knee so
+ as to knock her up for some time. It is the fashion here for all the
+ English to ride, and it is very pleasant on these fine evenings, when
+ we set out at sunset and are lighted home by Venus, Jupiter, and
+ Diana, who kindly lend us their light after the sleepy Apollo is gone
+ to bed. The road which we frequent is raised somewhat above, and
+ overlooks the river, affording some very fine points of view amongst
+ these woody mountains.
+
+ Still, we know no one; we speak to one or two people at the Casino,
+ and that is all; we live in our studious way, going on with Tasso,
+ whom I like, but who, now I have read more than half his poem, I do
+ not know that I like half so well as Ariosto. Shelley translated the
+ _Symposium_ in ten days. It is a most beautiful piece of writing. I
+ think you will be delighted with it. It is true that in many
+ particulars it shocks our present manners; but no one can be a reader
+ of the works of antiquity unless they can transport themselves from
+ these to other times, and judge, not by our, but their morality.
+
+ Shelley is tolerably well in health; the hot weather has done him
+ good. We have been in high debate--nor have we come to any
+ conclusion--concerning the land or sea journey to Naples. We have been
+ thinking that when we want to go, although the equinox will be past,
+ yet the equinoctial winds will hardly have spent themselves; and I
+ cannot express to you how I fear a storm at sea with two such young
+ children as William and Clara. Do you know the periods when the
+ Mediterranean is troubled, and when the wintry halcyon days come?
+ However, it may be we shall see you before we proceed southward.
+
+ We have been reading Eustace's _Tour through Italy_; I do not wonder
+ the Italians reprinted it. Among other select specimens of his way of
+ thinking, he says that the Romans did not derive their arts and
+ learning from the Greeks; that Italian ladies are chaste, and the
+ lazzaroni honest and industrious; and that, as to assassination and
+ highway robbery in Italy, it is all a calumny--no such things were
+ ever heard of. Italy was the garden of Eden, and all the Italians
+ Adams and Eves, until the blasts of hell (_i.e._ the French--for by
+ that polite name he designates them) came. By the bye, an Italian
+ servant stabbed an English one here--it was thought dangerously at
+ first, but the man is doing better.
+
+ I have scribbled a long letter, and I daresay you have long wished to
+ be at the end of it. Well, now you are; so my dear Mrs. Gisborne, with
+ best remembrances, yours, obliged and affectionately,
+
+ MARY W. SHELLEY.
+
+From Florence, where he arrived on the 20th, Shelley wrote to Mary,
+telling her that Clare had changed her intention of going in person to
+Venice, and had decided on the more politic course of remaining herself at
+Fusina or Padua, while Shelley went on to see Byron.
+
+ "Well, my dearest Mary," he went on, "are you very lonely? Tell me
+ truth, my sweetest, do you ever cry? I shall hear from you once at
+ Venice and once on my return here. If you love me, you will keep up
+ your spirits; and at all events tell me truth about it, for I assure
+ you I am not of a disposition to be flattered by your sorrow, though I
+ should be by your cheerfulness, and above all by seeing such fruits of
+ my absence as was produced when I was at Geneva."
+
+It was during Shelley's absence with Byron on their voyage round the lake
+of Geneva that Mary had begun to write _Frankenstein_. But on the day when
+she received this letter she was very uneasy about her little girl, who
+was seriously unwell from the heat. On writing to Shelley she told him of
+this; and, from his answer, one may infer that she had suggested the
+advisability of taking the child to Venice for medical advice.
+
+ PADUA, MEZZOGIORNO.
+
+ MY BEST MARY--I found at Mount Selica a favourable opportunity for
+ going to Venice, when I shall try to make some arrangement for you and
+ little Ca to come for some days, and shall meet you, if I do not write
+ anything in the meantime, at Padua on Thursday morning. Clare says she
+ is obliged to come to see the Medico, whom we missed this morning, and
+ who has appointed as the only hour at which he can be at leisure, 8
+ o'clock in the morning. You must, therefore, arrange matters so that
+ you should come to the Stella d'Oro a little before that hour, a thing
+ only to be accomplished by setting out at half-past 3 in the morning.
+ You will by this means arrive at Venice very early in the day, and
+ avoid the heat, which might be bad for the babe, and take the time
+ when she would at least sleep great part of the time. Clare will
+ return with the return carriage, and I shall meet you, or send to you,
+ at Padua. Meanwhile, remember _Charles the First_, and do you be
+ prepared to bring at least some of _Mirra_ translated; bring the book
+ also with you, and the sheets of _Prometheus Unbound_, which you will
+ find numbered from 1 to 26 on the table of the Pavilion. My poor
+ little Clara; how is she to-day? Indeed, I am somewhat uneasy about
+ her; and though I feel secure there is no danger, it would be very
+ comfortable to have some reasonable person's opinion about her. The
+ Medico at Padua is certainly a man in great practice; but I confess he
+ does not satisfy me. Am I not like a wild swan, to be gone so
+ suddenly? But, in fact, to set off alone to Venice required an
+ exertion. I felt myself capable of making it, and I knew that you
+ desired it.... Adieu, my dearest love. Remember, remember _Charles the
+ First_ and _Mirra_. I have been already imagining how you will conduct
+ some scenes. The second volume of _St. Leon_ begins with this proud
+ and true sentiment--
+
+ "There is nothing which the human mind can conceive which it may not
+ execute." Shakespeare was only a human being. Adieu till
+ Thursday.--Your ever affectionate,
+
+ P. B. S.
+
+His next letter, however, announced yet another revolution in Clare's
+plans. Her heart failed her at the idea of remaining to endure her
+suspense all alone in a strange place; and so, braving the possible
+consequences of Byron's discovering her move before he was informed of it,
+she went on with Shelley to Venice, and, the morning after their arrival,
+proceeded to Mr. Hoppner's house. Here she was kindly welcomed by him and
+his wife, a pretty Swiss woman, with a sympathetic motherly heart, who
+knew all about her and Allegra. They insisted, too, on Shelley's staying
+with them, and he was nothing loth to accept the offer, for Byron's circle
+would not have suited him at all.
+
+He was pleased with his hostess, something in whose appearance reminded
+him of Mary. "She has hazel eyes and sweet looks, rather Maryish," he
+wrote. And in another letter he described her as
+
+ So good, so beautiful, so angelically mild that, were she wise too,
+ she would be quite a Mary. But she is not very accomplished. Her eyes
+ are like a reflection of yours; her manners are like yours when you
+ know and like a person.
+
+He could enjoy no pleasure without longing for Mary to share it, and from
+the moment he reached Venice he was planning impatiently for her to follow
+him, to experience with him the strange emotions aroused by the first
+sight of the wonderful city, and to make acquaintance with his new
+friends.
+
+He lost no time in calling on Byron, who gave him a very friendly
+reception. Shelley's intention on leaving Lucca was to go with his family
+to Florence, and the plan he urged on Byron was that Allegra should come
+to spend some time there with her mother. To this Byron objected, as
+likely to raise comment, and as a reopening of the whole question. He was,
+however, in an affable mood, and not indisposed to meet Shelley halfway.
+He had heard of Clare's being at Padua, but nothing of her subsequent
+change of plan; and, assuming that the whole party were staying there, he
+offered to send Allegra as far as that, on a week's visit. Finding that
+things were not as he supposed, and that Mrs. Shelley was likely to come
+presently to Venice, he proposed to lend them for some time a villa which
+he rented at Este, and to let Allegra stay with them. The offer was
+promptly and gratefully accepted by Shelley. The fact of Clare's presence
+in Venice had, perforce, to be kept dark; for that there was no help; the
+great thing was to get her and Allegra away as soon as possible. He sent
+directions to Mary to pack up at once and travel with the least possible
+delay to Este. There he would meet her with Clare, Allegra, and Elise, who
+were to be established, with Mary's little ones, at Byron's villa, Casa
+Cappucini, while she and he proceeded to Venice.
+
+When the letter came, Mary had the Gisbornes staying with her on a visit.
+For that reason, and on account of little Clara's indisposition, the
+summons to depart so suddenly can hardly have been welcome; she obeyed it,
+however, and left the Bagni di Lucca on the 31st of August. Owing to
+delays about the passport, her journey took rather longer than they had
+expected. The intense heat of the weather, added to the fatigue of
+travelling and probably change of diet, seriously affected the poor baby,
+who, by the time they got to Este on 5th September, was dangerously ill.
+Shelley, who had been waiting for them impatiently, was also far from
+well, and their visit to Venice had to be deferred for more than a
+fortnight, during which Mary had time to hear enough of Venetian society
+to horrify and disgust her.
+
+ _Journal, Saturday, September 5._--Arrive at Este. Poor Clara is
+ dangerously ill. Shelley is very unwell, from taking poison in Italian
+ cakes. He writes his drama of _Prometheus_. Read seven cantos of
+ Dante. Begin to translate _A Cajo Graccho_ of Monti, and _Measure for
+ Measure_.
+
+ _Wednesday, September 16._--Read the _Filippo_ of Alfieri. Shelley and
+ Clare go to Padua. He is very ill from the effects of his poison.
+
+To Mrs. Gisborne she wrote as follows--
+
+ _September 1818._
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--I hasten to write to you to say that we have
+ arrived safe, and yet I can hardly call it safe, since the fatigue has
+ given my poor _Ca_ an attack of dysentery; and although she is now
+ somewhat recovered from that disorder, she is still in a frightful
+ state of weakness and fever, and is reduced to be so thin in this
+ short time that you would hardly know her again.
+
+ The physician of Este is a stupid fellow; but there is one come from
+ Padua, and who appears clever; so I hope under his care she will soon
+ get well, although we are still in great anxiety concerning her. I
+ found Mr. Shelley very anxious for our non-arrival, for, besides other
+ delays, we were detained a whole day at Florence for a signature to
+ our passport. The house at Este is exceedingly pleasant, with a large
+ garden and quantities of excellent fruit. I have not yet been to
+ Venice, and know not when I shall, since it depends upon the state of
+ Clara's health. I hope Mr. Reveley is quite recovered from his
+ illness, and I am sure the baths did him a great deal of good. So now
+ I suppose all your talk is how you will get to England. Shelley agrees
+ with me that you could live very well for your £200 per annum in
+ Marlow or some such town; and I am sure you would be much happier than
+ in Italy. How all the English dislike it! The Hoppners speak with the
+ greatest acrimony of the Italians, and Mr. Hoppner says that he was
+ actually driven from Italian society by the young men continually
+ asking him for money. Everything is saleable in Venice, even the wives
+ of the gentry, if you pay well. It appears indeed a most frightful
+ system of society. Well! when shall we see you again? Soon, I daresay.
+ I am so much hurried that you will be kind enough to excuse the
+ abruptness of this letter. I will write soon again, and in the
+ meantime write to me. Shelley and Clare desire the kindest
+ remembrances.--My dear Mrs. Gisborne, affectionately yours,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+ Casa Capuccini, Este.
+ Send our letters to this direction.
+
+No more of the journal was written till the 24th, and in the meantime
+great trouble had fallen on the writers. Shelley was impatient for Clara
+to be within reach of better medical advice, and anxious to get Mary to
+Venice. He went forward himself on the 22d, returning next day as far as
+Padua to meet Mary and Clara, with Clare, who, however, only came over to
+Padua to see the Medico. The baby was very ill, and was getting worse
+every hour, but they judged it best to press on. In their hurry they had
+forgotten their passport, and had some difficulty in getting past the
+_dogana_ in consequence. Shelley's impetuosity carried all obstacles
+before it, and the soldiers on duty had to give way. On reaching Venice
+Mary went straight with her sick child to the inn, while Shelley hurried
+for the doctor. It was too late. When he got back (without the medical
+man) he found Mary well-nigh beside herself with distress. Another doctor
+had already been summoned, but little Clara was dying, and in an hour all
+was over.
+
+This blow reduced Mary to "a kind of despair";--the expression is
+Shelley's. Mr. Hoppner, on hearing what had happened, insisted on taking
+them away at once from the inn to his house. Four days she spent in Venice
+after that, the first of which was a blank; of the second she merely
+records--
+
+ An idle day. Go to the Lido and see Albé there.
+
+After that she roused herself. There was Shelley to be comforted and
+supported, there was Byron to be interviewed. One of her objects in coming
+had been to try and persuade him after all to let Allegra stay. So she
+nerved herself to pay this visit, and to go about and see something of
+Venice with Shelley.
+
+ _Sunday, September 27._--Read fourth canto of _Childe Harold_. It
+ rains. Go to the Doge's Palace, Ponte dei Sospiri, etc. Go to the
+ Academy with Mr. and Mrs. Hoppner, and see some fine pictures. Call at
+ Lord Byron's and see the _Farmaretta_.
+
+ _Monday, September 28._--Go with Mrs. Hoppner and Cavaliere Mengaldo
+ to the Library. Shopping. In the evening Lord Byron calls.
+
+ _Tuesday, September 29._--Leave Venice, and arrive at Este at night.
+ Clare is gone with the children to Padua.
+
+ _Wednesday, September 30._--The chicks return. Transcribe _Mazeppa_.
+ Go to the opera in the evening.
+
+A quiet, sad fortnight at Este followed. An idle one it was not, for
+Shelley not only wrote _Julian and Maddalo_, but worked on portions of
+his drama of _Prometheus Unbound_, the idea of which had haunted him ever
+since he came to Italy. Clare, for the time, was happy with her child.
+Mary read several plays of Shakespeare and the lives of Alfieri and Tasso
+in Italian.
+
+On the 12th of October she arrived once more at Venice with Shelley. She
+passed the greater part of her time there with the Hoppners, who were
+exceedingly friendly. Shelley visited Byron several times, probably trying
+to get an extension of leave for Allegra. In this, however, he must have
+failed, as on the 24th he went to Este to fetch her, returning with her on
+the 29th. Having restored the poor little girl to the Hoppners' care, he
+and Mary went once more to Este, but this time only to prepare for
+departure. On the 5th of November the whole party, including Elise (who
+was not retained for Allegra's service), left the Villa Capuccini and
+travelled by slow stages to Rome.
+
+No further allusion to her recent bereavement is to be found in Mary's
+journal. She attempted to behave like the Stoic her father had wished her
+to be.[33] She had written to him of her affliction, and received the
+following answer from the philosopher--
+
+ SKINNER STREET, _27th October 1818_.
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I sincerely sympathise with you in the affliction which
+ forms the subject of your letter, and which I may consider as the
+ first severe trial of your constancy and the firmness of your temper
+ that has occurred to you in the course of your life; you should,
+ however, recollect that it is only persons of a very ordinary sort,
+ and of a pusillanimous disposition, that sink long under a calamity of
+ this nature. I assure you such a recollection will be of great use to
+ you. We seldom indulge long in depression and mourning except when we
+ think secretly that there is something very refined in it, and that it
+ does us honour.
+
+Such a homily, at such a time, must have made Mary feel like a person of a
+very ordinary sort indeed. But she strove, only too hard, to carry out her
+father's principles; for, by doing violence to her sensitive nature, she
+might crush but could not kill it. The passionate impulses of her mother
+were curiously mated in her with her father's reflective temperament; and
+the noble courage which she inherited from Mary Wollstonecraft went hand
+in hand with somewhat of Godwin's constitutional shrinking from any
+manifestation of emotion. And the effect of determinate, excessive
+self-restraint on a heart like hers was to render the crushed feelings
+morbid in their acuteness, and to throw on her spirits a load of endurance
+which was borne, indeed, but at ruinous cost, and operated largely, among
+other causes, to make her seem cold when she was really suffering.
+
+At such times it was not altogether well for her that she was Shelley's
+companion. For, when his health and spirits were good, he craved and
+demanded companionship,--personal, intellectual, playful,--companionship
+of all sorts; but when they ebbed, when his vitality was low, when the
+simultaneous exaltation of conception and labour of realisation--a
+tremendous expenditure of force--was over, and left him shattered, shaken,
+surprised at himself like one who in a dream falls from a height and
+awakens with the shock,--tired, and yet dull,--then the one panacea for
+him was animal spirits in some congenial acquaintance; whether a friend or
+a previous stranger mattered little, provided the personality was
+congenial and the spirits buoyant. Mary did her best, bravely and nobly.
+But the loss of a child was one thing to Shelley, another thing to her.
+She strove to overcome the low spirits from which she suffered. But
+endurance, though more heroic than spontaneous cheerfulness, is not to be
+compared with it in its benign effect on other people; nay, it may even
+have a depressing effect when a yielding to emotion "of the ordinary sort"
+may not. All these truths, however, do not become evident at once; like
+other life-experience they have to be spelled out by slow and painful
+degrees.
+
+To seek for respite from grief or care in intellectual culture and the
+acquisition of knowledge was instinctive and habitual both in Shelley and
+in Mary. They visited Ferrara and Bologna, then travelled by a winding
+road among the Apennines to Terni, where they saw the celebrated
+waterfall--
+
+ It put me in mind of Sappho leaping from a rock, and her form
+ vanishing as in the shape of a swan in the distance.
+
+ _Friday, November 20._--We travel all day the Campagna di Roma--a
+ perfect solitude, yet picturesque, and relieved by shady dells. We see
+ an immense hawk sailing in the air for prey. Enter Rome. A rainy
+ evening. Doganas and cheating innkeepers. We at length get settled in
+ a comfortable hotel.
+
+After one week in Rome, during which they visited as many of the wonders
+of the Eternal City as the time allowed, they journeyed on to Naples,
+reading Montaigne by the way.
+
+At Naples they remained for three months. Of their life there Mary's
+journal gives no account; she confines herself almost entirely to noting
+down the books they read, and one or two excursions. They lived in very
+great seclusion, greater than was good for them, but Shelley suffered much
+from ill-health, and not a little from its treatment by an unskilful
+physician. They read incessantly,--Livy, Dante, Sismondi, Winkelmann, the
+Georgics and Plutarch's _Lives_, _Gil Blas_, and _Corinne_. They left no
+beautiful or interesting scene unvisited; they ascended Vesuvius, and
+made excursions to Pompeii, Herculaneum, and Paestum.
+
+On the 8th of December Mary records--
+
+ Go on the sea with Shelley. Visit Capo Miseno, the Elysian Fields,
+ Avernus, Solfatara. The Bay of Baiae is beautiful, but we are
+ disappointed by the various places we visit.
+
+The impression of the scene, however, remained after the temporary
+disappointment had been forgotten, and she sketched it from memory many
+years later in the fanciful introduction to her romance of _The Last Man_,
+the story of which purports to be a tale deciphered from sibylline leaves,
+picked up in the caverns.
+
+Shelley, however, suffered from extreme depression, which, out of
+solicitous consideration for Mary, he disguised as much as possible under
+a mask of cheerfulness, insomuch that she never fully realised what he
+endured at this time until she read the mournful poems written at Naples,
+after he who wrote them had passed for ever out of sight.
+
+She blamed herself then for what seemed to her her blindness,--for having
+perhaps let slip opportunities of cheering him which she would have sold
+her soul to recall when it was too late. That _he_, at the time, felt in
+her no such want of sympathy or help is shown by his concluding words in
+the advertisement of _Rosalind and Helen_, and _Lines written among the
+Euganean Hills_, dated Naples, 20th December, where he says of certain
+lines "which image forth the sudden relief of a state of deep despondency
+by the radiant visions disclosed by the sudden burst of an Italian sunrise
+in autumn on the highest peak of those delightful mountains," that, if
+they were not erased, it was "at the request of a dear friend, with whom
+added years of intercourse only add to my apprehension of its value, and
+who would have had more right than any one to complain that she has not
+been able to extinguish in me the very power of delineating sadness."
+
+Much of this sadness was due to physical suffering, but external causes of
+anxiety and vexation were not wanting. One was the discovery of grave
+misconduct on the part of their Italian servant, Paolo. An engagement had
+been talked of between him and the Swiss nurse Elise, but the Shelleys,
+who thought highly of Elise and by no means highly of Paolo, tried to
+dissuade her from the idea. An illness of Elise's revealed the fact that
+an illicit connection had been formed. The Shelleys, greatly distressed,
+took the view that it would not do to throw Elise on the world without in
+some degree binding Paolo to do his duty towards her, and they had them
+married. How far this step was well-judged may be a matter of opinion.
+Elise was already a mother when she entered the Shelleys service. Whether
+a woman already a mother was likely to do better for being bound for life
+to a man whom they "knew to be a rascal" may reasonably be doubted even by
+those who hold the marriage-tie, as such, in higher honour than the
+Shelleys did. But whether the action was mistaken or not, it was prompted
+by the sincerest solicitude for Elise's welfare, a solicitude to be
+repaid, at no distant date, by the basest ingratitude. Meanwhile Mary lost
+her nurse, and, it may be assumed, a valuable one; for any one who studies
+the history of this and the preceding years must see all three of the poor
+doomed children throve as long as Elise was in charge of them.
+
+Clare was ailing, and anxious too; how could it be otherwise? Just before
+Allegra's third birthday, Mary received a letter from Mrs. Hoppner which
+was anything but reassuring. It gave an unsatisfactory account of the
+child, who did not thrive in the climate of Venice, and a still more
+unsatisfactory account of Byron.
+
+ Il faut espérer qu'elle se changera pour son mieux quand il ne sera
+ plus si froid; mais je crois toujours que c'est très malheureux que
+ Miss Clairmont oblige cette enfant de vivre à Venise, dont le climat
+ est nuisible en tout au physique de la petite, et vraîment, pour ce
+ que fera son père, je le trouve un peu triste d'y sacrifier l'enfant.
+ My Lord continue de vivre dans une débauche affreuse qui tôt ou tard
+ le menera a sà ruine....
+
+ Quant à moi, je voudrois faire tout ce qui est en mon pouvoir pour
+ cette enfant, que je voudrois bien volontiers rendre aussi heureuse
+ que possible le temps qu'elle restera avec nous; car je crains
+ qu'après elle devra toujours vivre avec des étrangers, indifferents à
+ son sort. My Lord bien certainement ne la rendra jamais plus à sa
+ mère; ainsi il n'y a rien de bon à espérer pour cette chère petite.
+
+This letter, if she saw it, may well have made Clare curse the day when
+she let Allegra go.
+
+Still, after they returned to Rome at the beginning of March, a brighter
+time set in.
+
+ _Journal, Friday, March 5._--After passing over the beautiful hills of
+ Albano, and traversing the Campagna, we arrive at the Holy City again,
+ and see the Coliseum again.
+
+ All that Athens ever brought forth wise,
+ All that Afric ever brought forth strange,
+ All that which Asia ever had of prize,
+ Was here to see. Oh, marvellous great change!
+ Rome living was the world's sole ornament;
+ And dead, is now the world's sole monument.
+
+ _Sunday, March 7._--Move to our lodgings. A rainy day. Visit the
+ Coliseum. Read the Bible.
+
+ _Monday, March 8._--Visit the Museum of the Vatican. Read the Bible.
+
+ _Tuesday, March 9._--Shelley and I go to the Villa Borghese. Drive
+ about Rome. Visit the Pantheon. Visit it again by moonlight, and see
+ the yellow rays fall through the roof upon the floor of the temple.
+ Visit the Coliseum.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 10._--Visit the Capitol, and see the most divine
+ statues.
+
+Not one of the party but was revived and invigorated by the beauty and
+overpowering interest of the surrounding scenes, and the delight of a
+lovely Italian spring. To Shelley it was life itself.
+
+ "The charm of the Roman climate," says Mrs. Shelley, "helped to clothe
+ his thoughts in greater beauty than they had ever worn before. And as
+ he wandered among the ruins, made one with nature in their decay, or
+ gazed on the Praxitelean shapes that throng the Vatican, the Capitol,
+ and the palaces of Rome, his soul imbibed forms of loveliness which
+ became a portion of itself."
+
+The visionary drama of _Prometheus Unbound_, which had haunted, yet eluded
+him so long, suddenly took life and shape, and stood before him, a vivid
+reality. During his first month at Rome he completed it in its original
+three-act form. The fourth act was an afterthought, and was added at a
+later date.
+
+For a short, enchanted time--his health renewed, the deadening years
+forgotten, his susceptibilities sharpened, not paralysed, by recent
+grief--he gave himself up to the vision of the realisation of his
+life-dream; the disappearance of evil from the earth.
+
+ "He believed," wrote Mary Shelley, "that mankind had only to will that
+ there should be no evil, and there would be none.... That man should
+ be so perfectionised as to be able to expel evil from his own nature,
+ and from the greater part of the creation was the cardinal point of
+ his system. And the subject he loved best to dwell on, was the image
+ of one warring with the Evil Principle, oppressed not only by it, but
+ by all, even the good, who were deluded into considering evil a
+ necessary portion of humanity. A victim full of fortitude and hope,
+ and the spirit of triumph emanating from a reliance in the ultimate
+ omnipotence of good."
+
+ "This poem," he himself says, "was chiefly written upon the
+ mountainous ruins of the Baths of Caracalla, among the flowers,
+ glades, and thickets of odoriferous blossoming trees, which are
+ extended in ever winding labyrinths upon its immense platforms and
+ dizzy arches suspended in the air. The bright blue sky of Rome, and
+ the effect of the vigorous awakening of spring in that divinest
+ climate, and the new life with which it drenches the spirits even to
+ intoxication, were the inspiration of this drama."[34]
+
+And while he wrought and wove the radiant web of his poem, Mary, excited
+to greatest enthusiasm by the treasures of sculpture at Rome, and infected
+by the atmosphere of art around her, took up again her favourite pursuit
+of drawing, which she had discontinued since going to Marlow, and worked
+at it many hours a day, sometimes all day. She was writing, too; a
+thoroughly congenial occupation, at once soothing and stimulating to her.
+She studied the Bible, with the keen fresh interest of one who comes new
+to it, and she read Livy and Montaigne.
+
+Little William was thriving, and growing more interesting every day. His
+beauty and promise and angelic sweetness made him the pet and darling of
+all who knew him, while to his parents he was a perpetual source of ever
+fresh and increasing delight. And his mother looked forward to the birth
+in autumn of another little one who might, in some measure, fill the place
+of her lost Clara.
+
+Clare, who, also, was in better health, was not behindhand in energy or
+industry. Music was her favourite pursuit; she took singing-lessons from a
+good master and worked hard.
+
+They led a somewhat less secluded life than at Naples, and at the house of
+Signora Dionizi, a Roman painter and authoress (described by Mary Shelley
+as "very old, very miserly, and very mean"), Mary and Clare, at any rate,
+saw a little of Italian society. For this, however, Shelley did not care,
+nor was he attracted by any of the few English with whom he came in
+contact. Yet he felt his solitude. In April, when the strain of his work
+was over, his spirits drooped, as usual; and he longed then for some
+_congenial distraction_, some human help to bear the burden of life till
+the moment of weakness should have passed. But the fount of inspiration,
+the source of temporary elation and strength, had not been exhausted by
+_Prometheus_.
+
+On the 22d of April Mary notes--
+
+ Visit the Palazzo Corunna, and see the picture of Beatrice Cenci.
+
+The interest in the old idea was revived in him; he became engrossed in
+the subject, and soon after his "lyrical drama" was done, he transferred
+himself to this other, completely different work. There was no talk, now,
+of passing it on to Mary, and indeed she may well have recoiled from the
+unmitigated horrors of the tale. But, though he dealt with it himself,
+Shelley still felt on unfamiliar ground, and, as he proceeded, he
+submitted what he wrote to Mary for her judgment and criticism; the only
+occasion on which he consulted her about any work of his during its
+progress towards completion.
+
+Late in April they made the acquaintance of one English (or rather, Irish)
+lady, who will always be gratefully remembered in connection with the
+Shelleys.
+
+This was Miss Curran, a daughter of the late Irish orator, who had been a
+friend of Godwin's, and to whose death Mary refers in one of her letters
+from Marlow.[35]
+
+Mary may, perhaps, have met her in Skinner Street; in any case, the old
+association was one link between them, and another was afforded by
+similarity in their present interests and occupations. Mary was very keen
+about her drawing and painting. Miss Curran had taste, and some skill,
+and was vigorously prosecuting her art-studies in Rome. Portrait painting
+was her especial line, and each of the Shelley party, at different times,
+sat to her; so that during the month of May they met almost daily, and
+became well acquainted.
+
+This new interest, together with the unwillingness to bring to an end a
+time at once so peaceful and so fruitful, caused them once and again to
+postpone their departure, originally fixed for the beginning of May. They
+stayed on longer than it is safe for English people to remain in Rome. Ah!
+why could no presentiment warn them of impending calamity? Could they,
+like the Scottish witch in the ballad, have seen the fatal winding-sheet
+creeping and clinging ever higher and higher round the wraith of their
+doomed child, they would have fled from the face of Death. But they had no
+such foreboding.
+
+Not a fortnight after his portrait had been taken by Miss Curran, William
+showed signs of illness. How it was that, knowing him to be so
+delicate,--having learned by bitterest experience the danger of southern
+heat to an English-born infant,--having, as early as April, suspected the
+Roman air of causing "weakness and depression, and even fever" to Shelley
+himself, how, after all this, they risked staying in Rome through May is
+hard to imagine.
+
+They were to pay for their delay with the best part of their lives.
+William sickened on the 25th, but had so far recovered by the 30th that
+his parents, though they saw they ought to leave Rome as soon as he was
+fit to travel, were in no immediate anxiety about him, and were making
+their summer plans quite in a leisurely way; Mary writing to ask Mrs.
+Gisborne to help them with some domestic arrangements, begging her to
+inquire about houses at Lucca or the Baths of Pisa, and to engage a
+servant for her.
+
+The journal for this and the following days runs--
+
+ _Sunday, May 30._--Read Livy, and _Persiles and Sigismunda_. Draw.
+ Spend the evening at Miss Curran's.
+
+ _Monday, May 31._--Read Livy, and _Persiles and Sigismunda_. Draw.
+ Walk in the evening.
+
+ _Tuesday, June 1._--Drawing lesson. Read Livy. Walk by the Tiber.
+ Spend the evening with Miss Curran.
+
+ _Wednesday, June 2._--See Mr. Vogel's pictures. William becomes very
+ ill in the evening.
+
+ _Thursday, June 3._--William is very ill, but gets better towards the
+ evening. Miss Curran calls.
+
+Mary took this opportunity of begging her friend to write for her to Mrs.
+Gisborne, telling her of the inevitable delay in their journey.
+
+ ROME, _Thursday, 3d June 1819_.
+
+ DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Mary tells me to write for her, for she is very
+ unwell, and also afflicted. Our poor little William is at present
+ very ill, and it will be impossible to quit Rome so soon as we
+ intended. She begs you, therefore, to forward the letters here, and
+ still to look for a servant for her, as she certainly intends coming
+ to Pisa. She will write to you a day or two before we set out.
+
+ William has a complaint of the stomach; but fortunately he is attended
+ by Mr. Bell, who is reckoned even in London one of the first English
+ surgeons.
+
+ I know you will be glad to hear that both Mary and Mr. Shelley would
+ be well in health were it not for the dreadful anxiety they now
+ suffer.
+
+ EMELIA CURRAN.
+
+Two days after, Mary herself wrote a few lines to Mrs. Gisborne.
+
+ _5th June 1819._
+
+ William is in the greatest danger. We do not quite despair, yet we
+ have the least possible reason to hope.
+
+ I will write as soon as any change takes place. The misery of these
+ hours is beyond calculation. The hopes of my life are bound up in
+ him.--Ever yours affectionately,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+ I am well, and so is Shelley, although he is more exhausted by
+ watching than I am. William is in a high fever.
+
+Sixty death-like hours did Shelley watch, without closing his eyes. Clare,
+her own troubles forgotten in this moment of mortal suspense, was a
+devoted nurse.
+
+As for Mary, her very life ebbed with William's, but as yet she bore up.
+There was no real hope from the first moment of the attack, but the poor
+child made a hard struggle for life. Two more days and nights of anguish
+and terror and deadly sinking of heart,--and then, in the blank page
+following _June 4_, the last date entered in the diary, are the words--
+
+ The journal ends here.--P. B. S.
+
+On Monday, the 7th of June, at noonday, William died.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+JUNE 1819-SEPTEMBER 1820
+
+
+It was not fifteen months since they had all left England; Shelley and
+Mary with the sweet, blue-eyed "Willmouse," and the pretty baby, Clara, so
+like her father; Clare and the "bluff, bright-eyed little Commodore,"
+Allegra; the Swiss nurse and English nursemaid; a large and lively party,
+in spite of cares and anxieties and sorrows to come. In one short,
+spiritless paragraph Mary, on the 4th of August, summed up such history as
+there was of the sad two months following on the blow which had left her
+childless.
+
+ _Journal, Wednesday, August 4, 1819, Leghorn_ (Mary).--I begin my
+ journal on Shelley's birthday. We have now lived five years together;
+ and if all the events of the five years were blotted out, I might be
+ happy; but to have won and then cruelly to have lost, the associations
+ of four years, is not an accident to which the human mind can bend
+ without much suffering.
+
+ Since I left home I have read several books of Livy, _Clarissa
+ Harlowe_, the _Spectator_, a few novels, and am now reading the Bible,
+ and Lucan's _Pharsalia_, and Dante. Shelley is to-day twenty-seven
+ years of age. Write; read Lucan and the Bible. Shelley writes the
+ _Cenci_, and reads Plutarch's _Lives_. The Gisbornes call in the
+ evening. Shelley reads _Paradise Lost_ to me. Read two cantos of the
+ _Purgatorio_.
+
+Three days after William's death, Shelley, Mary, and Clare had left Rome
+for Leghorn. Once more they were alone together--how different now from
+the three heedless young things who, just five years before, had set out
+to walk through France with a donkey!
+
+Shelley, then, a creature of feelings and theories, full of unbalanced
+impulses, vague aspirations and undeveloped powers; inexperienced in
+everything but uncomprehended pain and the dim consciousness of
+half-realised mistakes. Mary, the fair, quiet, thoughtful girl, earnest
+and impassioned, calm and resolute, as ignorant of practical life as
+precocious in intellect; with all her mind worshipping the same high
+ideals as Shelley's, and with all her heart worshipping him as the
+incarnation of them. Clare her very opposite; excitable and enthusiastic,
+demonstrative and capricious, clever, but silly; with a mind in which a
+smattering of speculative philosophy, picked up in Godwin's house,
+contended for the mastery with such social wisdom as she had picked up in
+a boarding school. Both of them mere children in years. Now poor Clare was
+older without being much wiser, saddened yet not sobered; suffering
+bitterly from her ambiguous position, yet unable or unwilling to put an
+end to it; the worse by her one great error, which had brought her to dire
+grief; the better by one great affection--for her child,--the source of
+much sorrow, it is true, but also of truest joy of self-devotion, and the
+only instrument of such discipline that ever she had.
+
+Shelley had found what he wanted, the faithful heart which to his own
+afforded peace and stability and the balance which, then, he so much
+needed; a kindred mind, worthy of the best his had to give; knowing and
+expecting that best, too, and satisfied with nothing short of it. And his
+best had responded. In these few years he had realised powers the extent
+of which could not have been foretold, and which might, without that
+steady sympathy and support, have remained unfulfilled possibilities for
+ever. In spite of the far-reaching consequences of his errors, in spite of
+torturing memories, in spite of ill-health, anxiety, poverty, vexation,
+and strife, the Shelley of _Queen Mab_ had become the Shelley of
+_Prometheus Unbound_ and the _Cenci_.
+
+Of this development he himself was conscious enough. In so far as he was
+known to his contemporaries, it was only by his so-called atheistic
+opinions, and his departures theoretical and actual, from conventional
+social morality; and even these owed their notoriety, not to his genius,
+but to the fact that they were such strange vagaries in the heir to a
+baronetcy. In his new life he had, indeed, known the deepest grief as well
+as the purest love, but those griefs which are memorial shrines of love
+did not paralyse him. They were rather among the influences which elicited
+the utmost possibilities of his nature; his lost children, as lovely
+ideals, were only half lost to him.
+
+But with Mary it was otherwise. Her occupation was gone. When after the
+death of her first poor little baby, she wrote: "Whenever I am left alone
+to my own thoughts, and do not read to divert them, they always come back
+to the same point--that I was a mother, and am so no longer;" a new sense
+was dawning in her which never had waned, and which, since William's
+birth, had asserted itself as the key to her nature.
+
+She had known very little of the realities of life when she left her
+father's house with Shelley, and he, her first reality, belonged in many
+ways more to the ideal than to the real world. But for her children, her
+association with him, while immeasurably expanding her mental powers,
+might have tended to develop these at the expense of her emotional nature,
+and to starve or to stifle her human sympathies. In her children she found
+the link which united her ideal love with the universal heart of mankind,
+and it was as a mother that she learned the sweet charities of human
+nature. This maternal love deepened her feelings towards her own father,
+it gave her sympathy with Clare and helped towards patience with her, it
+saved her from overmuch literary abstraction, and prevented her from
+pining when Shelley was buried in dreams or engrossed in work, and she
+loved these children with the unconscious passionate gratitude of a
+reserved nature towards anything that constrains from it the natural
+expression of that fund of tenderness and devotion so often hidden away
+under a perversely undemonstrative manner. Now, in one short year, all
+this was gone, and she sank under the blow of William's loss. She could
+not even find comfort in the thought of the baby to be born in autumn,
+for, after the repeated rending asunder of beloved ties, she looked
+forward to new ones with fear and trembling, rather than with hope. The
+physical reaction after the strain of long suspense and watching had told
+seriously on her health, never strong at these times; the efforts she had
+made at Naples were no longer possible to her. Even Clare with all her
+misery was, in one sense, better off than she, for Allegra _lived_. She
+tried to rise above her affliction, but her care for everything was gone;
+the whole world seemed dull and indifferent. Poor Shelley, only too liable
+to depression at all times, and suffering bitterly himself from the loss
+of his beloved child, tried to keep up his spirits for Mary's sake.
+
+ Thou sittest on the hearth of pale Despair,
+ Where,
+ For thine own sake, I cannot follow thee.
+
+Perhaps the effort he thus made for her sake had a bracing effect on
+himself, but the old Mary seemed gone,--lost,--and even he was powerless
+to bring her back; she could not follow him; any approach of seeming
+forgetfulness in others increased her depression and gloom.
+
+The letter to Miss Curran, which follows, was written within three weeks
+of William's death.
+
+ LEGHORN, _27th June 1819_.
+
+ MY DEAR MISS CURRAN--I wrote to you twice on our journey, and again
+ from this place, but I found the other day that Shelley had forgotten
+ to send the letter; and I have been so unwell with a cold these last
+ two or three days that I have not been able to write. We have taken an
+ airy house here, in the vicinity of Leghorn, for three months, and we
+ have not found it yet too hot. The country around us is pretty, so
+ that I daresay we shall do very well. I am going to write another
+ stupid letter to you, yet what can I do? I no sooner take up my pen
+ than my thoughts run away with me, and I cannot guide it except about
+ _one_ subject, and that I must avoid. So I entreat you to join this to
+ your many other kindnesses, and to excuse me. I have received the two
+ letters forwarded from Rome. My father's lawsuit is put off until
+ July. It will never be terminated. I hear that you have quitted the
+ pestilential air of Rome, and have gained a little health in the
+ country. Pray let us hear from you, for both Shelley and I are very
+ anxious--more than I can express--to know how you are. Let us hear
+ also, if you please, anything you may have done about the tomb, near
+ which I shall lie one day, and care not, for my own sake, how soon. I
+ never shall recover that blow; I feel it more than at Rome; the
+ thought never leaves me for a single moment; everything on earth has
+ lost its interest to me. You see I told you that I could only write to
+ you on one subject; how can I, since, do all I can (and I endeavour
+ very sincerely) I can think of no other, so I will leave off. Shelley
+ is tolerably well, and desires his kindest remembrances.--Most
+ affectionately yours,
+
+ MARY W. SHELLEY.
+
+Their sympathetic friend, Leigh Hunt, grieved at the tone of her letters
+and at Shelley's account of her, tried to convey to her a little kindly
+advice and encouragement.
+
+ 8 YORK BUILDINGS, NEW ROAD.
+ _July 1819._
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I was just about to write to you, as you will see by my
+ letter to Shelley, when I received yours. I need not say how it
+ grieves me to see you so dispirited. Not that I wonder at it under
+ such sufferings; but I know, at least I have often suspected, that you
+ have a tendency, partly constitutional perhaps, and partly owing to
+ the turn of your philosophy, to look over-intensely at the dark side
+ of human things; and they must present double dreariness through such
+ tears as you are now shedding. Pray consent to take care of your
+ health, as the ground of comfort; and cultivate your laurels on the
+ strength of it. I wish you would strike your pen into some more genial
+ subject (more obviously so than your last), and bring up a fountain of
+ gentle tears for us. That exquisite passage about the cottagers shows
+ what you could do.[36]
+
+Mary received his counsels submissively, and would have carried them out
+if she could. But her nervous prostration was beyond her own power to cure
+or remove, and it was hard for others and impossible for herself to know
+how far her dejected state was due to mental and how far to physical
+causes.
+
+Shelley was not, and dared not be, idle. He worked at his Tragedy and
+finished it; many of the Fragments, too, belong to this time. They are the
+speech of pain, but those who can teach in song what they learn in
+suffering have much, very much to be thankful for. Mary persisted in
+study; she even tried to write. But the spring of invention was low.
+
+She exerted herself to send to Mrs. Hunt an account of their present life
+and surroundings.
+
+ LEGHORN, _28th August 1819_.
+
+ MY DEAR MARIANNE--We are very dull at Leghorn, and I can therefore
+ write nothing to amuse you. We live in a little country house at the
+ end of a green lane, surrounded by a _podere_. These _poderi_ are just
+ the things Hunt would like. They are like our kitchen-gardens, with
+ the difference only that the beautiful fertility of the country gives
+ them. A large bed of cabbages is very unpicturesque in England, but
+ here the furrows are alternated with rows of grapes festooned on their
+ supporters, and the hedges are of myrtle, which have just ceased to
+ flower; their flower has the sweetest faint smell in the world, like
+ some delicious spice. Green grassy walks lead you through the vines.
+ The people are always busy, and it is pleasant to see three or four of
+ them transform in one day a bed of Indian corn to one of celery. They
+ work this hot weather in their shirts, or smock-frocks (but their
+ breasts are bare), their brown legs nearly the colour, only with a
+ rich tinge of red in it, of the earth they turn up. They sing, not
+ very melodiously, but very loud, Rossini's music, "Mi rivedrai, ti
+ rivedrò," and they are accompanied by the _cicala_, a kind of little
+ beetle, that makes a noise with its tail as loud as Johnny can sing;
+ they live on trees; and three or four together are enough to deafen
+ you. It is to the _cicala_ that Anacreon has addressed an ode which
+ they call "To a Grasshopper" in the English translations.
+
+ Well, here we live. I never am in good spirits--often in very bad; and
+ Hunt's portrait has already seen me shed so many tears that, if it had
+ his heart as well as his eyes, he would weep too in pity. But no more
+ of this, or a tear will come now, and there is no use for that.
+
+ By the bye, a hint Hunt gave about portraits. The Italian painters are
+ very bad; they might make a nose like Shelley's, and perhaps a mouth,
+ but I doubt it; but there would be no expression about it. They have
+ no notion of anything except copying again and again their Old
+ Masters; and somehow mere copying, however divine the original, does a
+ great deal more harm than good.
+
+ Shelley has written a good deal, and I have done very little since I
+ have been in Italy. I have had so much to see, and so many vexations,
+ independently of those which God has kindly sent to wean me from the
+ world if I were too fond of it. Shelley has not had good health by any
+ means, and, when getting better, fate has ever contrived something to
+ pull him back. He never was better than the last month of his stay in
+ Rome, except the last week--then he watched sixty miserable death-like
+ hours without closing his eyes; and you may think what good that did
+ him.
+
+ We see the _Examiners_ regularly now, four together, just two months
+ after the publication of the last. These are very delightful to us. I
+ have a word to say to Hunt of what he says concerning Italian dancing.
+ The Italians dance very badly. They dress for their dances in the
+ ugliest manner; the men in little doublets, with a hat and feather;
+ they are very stiff; nothing but their legs move; and they twirl and
+ jump with as little grace as may be. It is not for their dancing, but
+ their pantomime, that the Italians are famous. You remember what we
+ told you of the ballet of _Othello_. They tell a story by action, so
+ that words appear perfectly superfluous things for them. In that they
+ are graceful, agile, impressive, and very affecting; so that I delight
+ in nothing so much as a deep tragic ballet. But the dancing, unless,
+ as they sometimes do, they dance as common people (for instance, the
+ dance of joy of the Venetian citizens on the return of Othello), is
+ very bad indeed.
+
+ I am very much obliged to you for all your kind offers and wishes.
+ Hunt would do Shelley a great deal of good, but that we may not think
+ of; his spirits are tolerably good. But you do not tell me how you get
+ on; how Bessy is, and where she is. Remember me to her. Clare is
+ learning thorough bass and singing. We pay four crowns a month for her
+ master, lessons three times a week; cheap work this, is it not? At
+ Rome we paid three shillings a lesson and the master stayed two hours.
+ The one we have now is the best in Leghorn.
+
+ I write in the morning, read Latin till 2, when we dine; then I read
+ some English book, and two cantos of Dante with Shelley. In the
+ evening our friends the Gisbornes come, so we are not perfectly alone.
+ I like Mrs. Gisborne very much indeed, but her husband is most
+ dreadfully dull; and as he is always with her, we have not so much
+ pleasure in her company as we otherwise should....
+
+The neighbourhood of Mrs. Gisborne, "charming from her frank and
+affectionate nature," and full of intellectual sympathy with the Shelleys,
+was a boon indeed at this melancholy time. Through her Shelley was led to
+the study of Spanish, and the appearance on the scene of Charles
+Clairmont, who had just passed a year in Spain, was an additional stimulus
+in this direction. Together they read several of Calderon's plays, from
+which Shelley derived the greatest delight, and which enabled him for a
+time to forget everyday life and its troubles. Another diversion to his
+thoughts was the scheme of a steamboat which should ply between Leghorn
+and Marseilles, to be constructed by Henry Reveley, mainly at Shelley's
+expense. He was elated at promoting a project which he conceived to be of
+great public usefulness and importance, and happy at being able to do a
+friend a good turn. He followed every stage of the steamer's construction
+with keen interest, and was much disappointed when the idea was given up,
+as, after some months, it was; not, however, until much time, labour, and
+money had been expended on it.
+
+Mary, though she endeavoured to fill the blanks in her existence by
+assiduous reading, could not escape care. Clare was in perpetual thirst
+for news of her Allegra, and Godwin spared them none of his usual
+complaints. He, too, was much concerned at the depressed tone of Mary's
+letters, which seemed to him quite disproportionate to the occasion, and
+thought it his duty to convince her, by reasoning, that she was not so
+unhappy as she thought herself to be.
+
+ SKINNER STREET, _9th September 1819_.
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--Your letter of 19th August is very grievous to me,
+ inasmuch as you represent me as increasing the degree of your
+ uneasiness and depression.
+
+ You must, however, allow me the privilege of a father and a
+ philosopher in expostulating with you on this depression. I cannot
+ but consider it as lowering your character in a memorable degree, and
+ putting you quite among the commonalty and mob of your sex, when I had
+ thought I saw in you symptoms entitling you to be ranked among those
+ noble spirits that do honour to our nature. What a falling off is
+ here! How bitterly is so inglorious a change to be deplored!
+
+ What is it you want that you have not? You have the husband of your
+ choice, to whom you seem to be unalterably attached, a man of high
+ intellectual attainments, whatever I and some other persons may think
+ of his morality, and the defects under this last head, if they be not
+ (as you seem to think) imaginary, at least do not operate as towards
+ you. You have all the goods of fortune, all the means of being useful
+ to others, and shining in your proper sphere. But you have lost a
+ child: and all the rest of the world, all that is beautiful, and all
+ that has a claim upon your kindness, is nothing, because a child of
+ two years old is dead.
+
+ The human species may be divided into two great classes: those who
+ lean on others for support, and those who are qualified to support. Of
+ these last, some have one, some five, and some ten talents. Some can
+ support a husband, a child, a small but respectable circle of friends
+ and dependents, and some can support a world, contributing by their
+ energies to advance their whole species one or more degrees in the
+ scale of perfectibility. The former class sit with their arms crossed,
+ a prey to apathy and languor, of no use to any earthly creature, and
+ ready to fall from their stools if some kind soul, who might
+ compassionate, but who cannot respect them, did not come from moment
+ to moment and endeavour to set them up again. You were formed by
+ nature to belong to the best of these classes, but you seem to be
+ shrinking away, and voluntarily enrolling yourself among the worst.
+
+ Above all things, I entreat you, do not put the miserable delusion on
+ yourself, to think there is something fine, and beautiful, and
+ delicate, in giving yourself up, and agreeing to be nothing. Remember
+ too, though at first your nearest connections may pity you in this
+ state, yet that when they see you fixed in selfishness and ill
+ humour, and regardless of the happiness of every one else, they will
+ finally cease to love you, and scarcely learn to endure you.
+
+ The other parts of your letter afford me much satisfaction. Depend
+ upon it, there is no maxim more true or more important than this;
+ Frankness of communication takes off bitterness. True philosophy
+ invites all communication, and withholds none.
+
+Such a letter tended rather to check frankness of communication than to
+bind up a broken heart. Poor Mary's feelings appear in her letter to Miss
+Curran, with whom she was in correspondence about a monumental stone for
+the tomb in Rome.
+
+ The most pressing entreaties on my part, as well as Clare's, cannot
+ draw a single line from Venice. It is now six months since we have
+ heard, even in an indirect manner, from there. God knows what has
+ happened, or what has not! I suppose Shelley must go to see what has
+ become of the little thing; yet how or when I know not, for he has
+ never recovered from his fatigue at Rome, and continually frightens me
+ by the approaches of a dysentery. Besides, we must remove. My lying-in
+ and winter are coming on, so we are wound up in an inextricable
+ dilemma. This is very hard upon us; and I have no consolation in any
+ quarter, for my misfortune has not altered the tone of my Father's
+ letters, so that I gain care every day. And can you wonder that my
+ spirits suffer terribly? that time is a weight to me? And I see no end
+ to this. Well, to talk of something more interesting, Shelley has
+ finished his tragedy, and it is sent to London to be presented to the
+ managers. It is still a _deep secret_, and only one person, Peacock
+ (who presents it), knows anything about it in England. With Shelley's
+ public and private enemies, it would certainly fall if known to be
+ his; his sister-in-law alone would hire enough people to damn it. It
+ is written with great care, and we are in hopes that its story is
+ sufficiently polished not to shock the audience. We shall see.
+ Continue to direct to us at Leghorn, for if we should be gone, they
+ will be faithfully forwarded to us. And when you return to Rome just
+ have the kindness to inquire if there should be any stray letter for
+ us at the post-office. I hope the country air will do you real good.
+ You must take care of yourself. Remember that one day you will return
+ to England, and that you may be happier there.--Affectionately yours,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+At the end of September they removed to Florence, where they had engaged
+pleasant lodgings for six months. The time of Mary's confinement was now
+approaching, an event, in Shelley's words, "more likely than any other to
+retrieve her from some part of her present melancholy depression."
+
+They travelled by short, easy stages; stopping for a day at Pisa to pay a
+visit to a lady with whom from this time their intercourse was frequent
+and familiar. This was Lady Mountcashel, who had, when a young girl, been
+Mary Wollstonecraft's pupil, and between whom and her teacher so warm an
+attachment had existed as to arouse the jealousy and dislike of her
+mother, Lady Kingsborough. She had long since been separated from Lord
+Mountcashel, and lived in Italy with a Mr. Tighe and their two daughters,
+Laura and Nerina. As Lady Mountcashel she had entertained Godwin at her
+house during his visit to Ireland after his first wife's death. She is
+described by him as a remarkable person, "a republican and a democrat in
+all their sternness, yet with no ordinary portion either of understanding
+or good nature." In dress and appearance she was somewhat singular, and
+had that disregard for public opinion on such matters which is habitually
+implied in the much abused term "strong-minded." In this respect she had
+now considerably toned down. Her views on the relations of the sexes were
+those of William Godwin, and she had put them into practice. But she and
+the gentleman with whom she lived in permanent, though irregular, union
+had succeeded in constraining, by their otherwise exemplary life, the
+general respect and esteem. They were known as "Mr. and Mrs. Mason," and
+had so far lived down criticism that their actual position had come to be
+ignored or forgotten by those around them. Mr. Tighe, or "Tatty," as he
+was familiarly called by his few intimates, was of a retiring disposition,
+a lover of books and of solitude. Mrs. Mason was as remarkable for her
+strong practical common sense as for her talents and cultivation and the
+liberality of her views. She had a considerable knowledge of the world,
+and was looked up to as a model of good breeding, and an oracle on matters
+of deportment and propriety.
+
+She had kept up correspondence with Godwin, and her acquaintance with the
+Shelleys was half made before she saw them. She conceived an immediate
+affection for Mary, as well for her own as for her mother's sake, and was
+to prove a constant and valuable friend, not to her only, but to Shelley,
+and most especially to Clare.
+
+After a week in Florence, Mary's journal was resumed.
+
+ _Saturday, October 9._--Arrive at Florence. Read Massinger. Shelley
+ begins Clarendon; reads Massinger, and Plato's _Republic_. Clare has
+ her first singing lesson on Saturday. Go to the opera and see a
+ beautiful ballet
+
+ _Monday, October 11._--Read Horace; work. Go to the Gallery. Shelley
+ finishes the first volume of Clarendon. Read the _Little Thief_.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 20._--Finish the First Book of Horace's Odes.
+ Work, walk, read, etc. On Saturday letters are sent to England. On
+ Tuesday one to Venice. Shelley visits the Galleries. Reads Spenser and
+ Clarendon aloud.
+
+ _Thursday, October 28._--Work; read; copy _Peter Bell_. Monday night a
+ great fright with Charles Clairmont. Shelley reads Clarendon aloud and
+ _Plato's Republic_. Walk. On Thursday the protest from the Bankers.
+ Shelley writes to them, and to Peacock, Longdill, and H. Smith.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 9._--Read Madame de Sevigné. Bad news from London.
+ Shelley reads Clarendon aloud, and Plato. He writes to Papa.
+
+On the 12th of November a son was born to the Shelleys, and brought the
+first true balm of consolation to his poor mother's heart.
+
+ "You may imagine," wrote Shelley to Leigh Hunt, "that this is a great
+ relief and a great comfort to me amongst all my misfortunes.... Poor
+ Mary begins (for the first time) to look a little consoled; for we
+ have spent, as you may imagine, a miserable five months."
+
+The child was healthy and pretty, and very like William. Neither Mary's
+strength nor her spirits were altogether re-established for some time, but
+the birth of "Percy Florence" was, none the less, the beginning of a new
+life for her. She turned, with the renewed energy of hope, to her literary
+work and studies. One of her first tasks was to transcribe the just
+written fourth act of _Prometheus Unbound_. She had work of her own on
+hand too; a historical novel, _Castruccio, Prince of Lucca_ (afterwards
+published as _Valperga_), a laborious but very congenial task, which
+occupied her for many months.
+
+And indeed all the solace of new and tender ties, all the animating
+interest of intellectual pursuits, was sorely needed to counteract the
+wearing effect of harassing cares and threatening calamities. Godwin was
+now being pressed for the accumulated unpaid house-rent of many years; so
+many that, when the call came, it was unexpected by him, and he challenged
+its justice. He had engaged in a law-suit on the matter, which he
+eventually lost. The only point which appeared to admit of no reasonable
+doubt was that Shelley would shortly be called upon to find a large sum of
+money for him, and this at a time when he was himself in unexpected
+pecuniary straits, owing to the non-arrival of his own remittances from
+England--a circumstance rendered doubly vexatious by the fact that a large
+portion of the money was pledged to Henry Reveley for the furtherance of
+his steamboat. A draft for £200, destined for this purpose, was returned,
+protested by Shelley's bankers. And though the money was ultimately
+recovered, its temporary loss caused no small alarm. Meanwhile every mail
+brought letters from Godwin of the most harrowing nature; the philosophy
+which he inculcated in a case of bereavement was null and void where
+impending bankruptcy was concerned. He well knew how to work on his
+daughter's feelings, and he did not spare her. Poor Shelley was at his
+wits' end.
+
+ "Mary is well," he wrote (in December) to the Gisbornes; "but for this
+ affair in London I think her spirits would be good. What shall I, what
+ can I, what ought I to do? You cannot picture to yourself my
+ perplexity."
+
+It appeared not unlikely that he might even have to go to England, a
+journey for which his present state of health quite unfitted him, and
+which he could not but be conscious would be no permanent remedy, but only
+a temporary alleviation, of Godwin's thoroughly unsound circumstances.
+Mary, in her grief for her father, began to think that the best thing for
+him might be to leave England altogether and settle abroad; an idea from
+which Mrs. Mason, with her strong sagacity, earnestly dissuaded her.
+
+Her views on the point were expressed in a letter to Shelley Mary had
+written asking her if she could give Charles Clairmont any introductions
+at Vienna, where he had now gone to seek his fortune as a teacher of
+languages; and also begging for such assistance as she might be able to
+lend in the matter of obtaining access to historical documents or other
+MS. bearing on the subjects of Mary's projected novel.
+
+ MRS. MASON TO SHELLEY.
+
+ MY DEAR SIR--I deferred answering your letter till this post in hopes
+ of being able to send some recommendations for your friend at Vienna,
+ in which I have been disappointed; and I have now also a letter from
+ my dear Mary; so I will answer both together. It gives me great
+ pleasure to hear such a good account of the little boy and his
+ mother.... I am sorry to perceive that your visit to Pisa will be so
+ much retarded; but I admire Mary's courage and industry. I sincerely
+ regret that it is not in my power to be of service to her in this
+ undertaking.... All I can say is, that when you have got all you can
+ there (where I suppose the manuscript documents are chiefly to be
+ found) and that you come to this place, I have scarcely any doubt of
+ being able to obtain for you many books on the subject which interests
+ you. Probably everything in print which relates to it is as easy to be
+ had here as at Florence.... I am very sorry indeed to think that Mr.
+ Godwin's affairs are in such a bad way, and think he would be much
+ happier if he had nothing to do with trade; but I am afraid he would
+ not be comfortable out of England. You who are young do not mind the
+ thousand little wants that men of his age are not habituated to; and
+ I, who have been so many years a vagabond on the face of the earth,
+ have long since forgotten them; but I have seen people of my age much
+ discomposed at the absence of long-accustomed trifles; and though
+ philosophy supports in great matters, it seldom vanquishes the small
+ everydayisms of life. I say this that Mary may not urge her father too
+ much to leave England. It may sound odd, but I can't help thinking
+ that Mrs. Godwin would enjoy a tour in foreign countries more than he
+ would. The physical inferiority of women sometimes teaches them to
+ support or overlook little inconveniences better than men.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "I am very sorry," she writes to Mary in another letter, "to find you
+ still suffer from low spirits. I was in hopes the little boy would
+ have been the best remedy for that. Words of consolation are but empty
+ sounds, for to time alone it belongs to wear out the tears of
+ affliction. However, a woman who gives milk should make every exertion
+ to be cheerful on account of the child she nourishes."
+
+Whether the plan for Godwin's expatriation was ever seriously proposed to
+him or not, it was, at any rate, never carried out. But none the less for
+this did the Shelleys live in the shadow of his gloom, which co-operated
+with their own pecuniary strait, previously alluded to, and with the
+nipping effects of an unwontedly severe winter, to make life still
+difficult and dreary for them.
+
+ "Shelley Calderonised on the late weather," wrote Mary to Mrs.
+ Gisborne; "he called it an epic of rain with an episode of frost, and
+ a few similes concerning fine weather. We have heard from England,
+ although not from the Bankers; but Peacock's letter renders the affair
+ darker than ever. Ah! my dear friend, you, in your slow and sure way
+ of proceeding, ought hardly to have united yourself to our eccentric
+ star. I am afraid that you will repent it, and it grieves us both more
+ than you can imagine that all should have gone so ill; but I think we
+ may rest assured that this is delay, and not loss; it can be nothing
+ else. I write in haste--a carriage at the door to take me out, and
+ _Percy_ asleep on my knee. Adieu. Charles is at Vienna by this
+ time."...
+
+They had intended remaining six months at Florence, but the place suited
+Shelley so ill that they took advantage of the first favourable change in
+the weather, at the end of January, to remove to Pisa, where the climate
+was milder, and where they now had pleasant friends in the Masons at "Casa
+Silva." They wished, too, to consult the celebrated Italian surgeon,
+Vaccà, on the subject of Shelley's health. Vaccà's advice took the shape
+of an earnest exhortation to him to abstain from drugs and remedies, to
+live a healthy life, and to leave his complaint, as far as possible, to
+nature. And, though he continued liable to attacks of pain and illness,
+and on one occasion had a severe nervous attack, the climate of Pisa
+proved in the end more suitable to him than any other, and for more than
+two years he remained there or in the immediate neighbourhood. He and Mary
+were never more industrious than at this time; reading extensively, and
+working together on a translation of Spinoza they had begun at Florence,
+and which occupied them, at intervals, for many months. Little Percy, a
+most healthy and satisfactory infant, had in March an attack of measles,
+but so slight as to cause no anxiety. Once, however, during the summer
+they had a fright about him, when an unusually alarming letter from her
+father upset Mary so much as to cause in her nursling, through her,
+symptoms of an illness similar to that which had destroyed little Clara.
+On this occasion she authorised Shelley, at his earnest request, to
+intercept future letters of the kind, an authority of which he had to
+avail himself at no distant date, telling Godwin that his domestic peace,
+Mary's health and happiness, and his child's life, could no longer be
+entirely at his mercy.
+
+No wonder that his own nervous ailments kept their hold of him. And to
+make matters better for him and for Mary, Paolo, the rascally Italian
+servant whom they had dismissed at Naples, now concocted a plot for
+extorting money from Shelley by accusing him of frightful crimes. Legal
+aid had to be called in to silence him. To this end they employed an
+attorney of Leghorn, named Del Rosso, and, for convenience of
+communication, they occupied for a few weeks Casa Ricci, the Gisbornes'
+house there, the owners being absent in England. Shelley made Henry
+Reveley's workshop his study. Hence he addressed his poetical "Letter to
+Maria Gisborne," and here too it was that "on a beautiful summer evening
+while wandering among the lanes, whose myrtle hedges were the bowers of
+the fireflies (they) heard the carolling of the skylark, which inspired
+one of the most beautiful of his poems."[37]
+
+If external surroundings could have made them happy they might have been
+so now, but Shelley, though in better health, was very nervous. Paolo's
+scandal and the legal affair embittered his life, to an extent difficult
+indeed to estimate, for it is certain that for some one else's sake,
+though _whose_ sake has never transpired, he had accepted when at Naples
+responsibilities at once delicate and compromising. Paolo had knowledge of
+the matter, and used this knowledge partly to revenge himself on Shelley
+for dismissing him from his service, partly to try and extort money from
+him by intimidation. The Shelleys hoped they had "crushed him" with Del
+Rosso's help, but they could not be certain, because, as Mary wrote to
+Miss Curran, they "could only guess at his accomplices." With Shelley in a
+state of extreme nervous irritability, with Mary deprived of repose by her
+anguish on her father's account and her feverish anxiety to help him, with
+Clare unsettled and miserable about Allegra, venting her misery by writing
+to Byron letters unreasonable and provoking, though excusable, and then
+regretting having sent them, they were not likely to be the most cheerful
+or harmonious of trios.
+
+The weather became intolerably hot by the end of August, and they migrated
+to Casa Prinni, at the Baths of S. Giuliano di Pisa. The beauty of this
+place, and the delightful climate, refreshed and invigorated them all.
+They spent two or three days in seeing Lucca and the country around, when
+Shelley wrote the _Witch of Atlas_. Exquisite poem as it is, it was, in
+Mary's mood of the moment, a disappointment to her. Ever since the _Cenci_
+she had been strongly impressed with the conviction that if he could but
+write on subjects of universal _human_ interest, instead of indulging in
+those airy creations of fancy which demand in the reader a sympathetic,
+but rare, quality of imagination, he would put himself more in touch with
+his contemporaries, who so greatly misunderstood him, and that, once he
+had elicited a responsive feeling in other men, this would be a source of
+profound happiness and of fresh and healthy inspiration to himself. "I
+still think I was right," she says, woman-like, in the _Notes to the Poems
+of 1820_, written long after Shelley's death. So from one point of view
+she undoubtedly was, but there are some things which cannot be
+constrained. Shelley was Shelley, and at the moment when he was moved to
+write a poem like the _Witch of Atlas_, it was useless to wish that it
+had been something quite different.
+
+His next poem was to be inspired by a human subject, and perhaps then poor
+Mary would have preferred a second Witch of Atlas.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+SEPTEMBER 1820-AUGUST 1821
+
+
+The baths were of great use to Shelley in allaying his nervous
+irritability. Such an improvement in him could not be without a
+corresponding beneficial effect on Mary. In the study of Greek, which she
+had begun with him at Leghorn, she found a new and wellnigh inexhaustible
+fund of intellectual pleasure. Their life, though very quiet, was somewhat
+more varied than it had been at Leghorn, partly owing to their being
+within easy reach of Pisa and of their friends at Casa Silva.
+
+The Gisbornes had returned from England, and, during a short absence of
+Clare's, Mary tried, but ineffectually, to persuade Mrs. Gisborne to come
+and occupy her room for a time. Some circumstance had arisen which led
+shortly after to a misunderstanding between the two families, soon over,
+but painful while it lasted. It was probably connected with the
+abandonment of the projected steamboat; Henry Reveley, while in England,
+having changed his mind and reconsidered his future plans.
+
+In October a curiously wet season set in.
+
+ _Journal, Wednesday, October 18._--Rain till 1 o'clock. At sunset the
+ arch of cloud over the west clears away; a few black islands float in
+ the serene; the moon rises; the clouds spot the sky, but the depth of
+ heaven is clear. The nights are uncommonly warm. Write. Shelley reads
+ _Hyperion_ aloud. Read Greek.
+
+ My thoughts arise and fade in solitude;
+ The verse that would invest them melts away
+ Like moonlight in the heaven of spreading day.
+ How beautiful they were, how firm they stood,
+ Flecking the starry sky like woven pearl.
+
+ _Friday, October 20._--Shelley goes to Florence. Write. Read Greek.
+ Wind N.W., but more cloudy than yesterday, yet sometimes the sun
+ shines out; the wind high. Read Villani.
+
+ _Saturday, October 21._--Rain in the night and morning; very cloudy;
+ not an air stirring; the leaves of the trees quite still. After a
+ showery morning it clears up somewhat, and the sun shines. Read
+ Villani, and ride to Pisa.
+
+ _Sunday, October 22._--Rainy night and rainy morning; as bad weather
+ as is possible in Italy. A little patience and we shall have St.
+ Martin's summer. At sunset the arch of clear sky appears where it
+ sets, becoming larger and larger, until at 7 o'clock the dark clouds
+ are alone over Monte Nero; Venus shines bright in the clear azure, and
+ the trunks of the trees are tinged with the silvery light of the
+ rising moon. Write, and read Villani. Shelley returns with Medwin.
+ Read _Sismondi_.
+
+Of Tom Medwin, Shelley's cousin and great admirer, who now for the first
+time appeared on the scene, they were to see, if anything, more than they
+wished.
+
+He was a lieutenant on half-pay, late of the 8th Dragoons; much addicted
+to literature, and with no mean opinion of his own powers in that line.
+
+ _Journal, Tuesday, October 24._--Rainy night and morning; it does not
+ rain in the afternoon. Shelley and Medwin go to Pisa. Walk; write.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 25._--Rain all night. The banks of the Serchio
+ break, and by dark all the baths are overflowed. Water four feet deep
+ in our house. "The weather fine."
+
+This flood brought their stay at the Baths to a sudden end. As soon as
+they could get lodgings they returned to Pisa. Here, not long after,
+Medwin fell ill, and was six weeks invalided in their house. They showed
+him the greatest kindness; Shelley nursing him like a brother. His society
+was, for a time, a tolerably pleasant change; he knew Spanish, and read
+with Shelley a great deal in that language, but he had no depth or breadth
+of mind, and his literary vanity and egotism made him at last what Mary
+Shelley described as a _seccatura_, for which the nearest English
+equivalent is, a bore.
+
+ _Journal, Sunday, November 12._--Percy's birthday. A divine day; sunny
+ and cloudless; somewhat cold in the evening. It would be pleasant
+ enough living in Pisa if one had a carriage and could escape from
+ one's house to the country without mingling with the inhabitants, but
+ the Pisans and the Scolari, in short, the whole population, are such
+ that it would sound strange to an English person if I attempted to
+ express what I feel concerning them--crawling and crab-like through
+ their sapping streets. Read _Corinne_. Write.
+
+ _Monday, November 13._--Finish _Corinne_. Write. My eyes keep me from
+ all study; this is very provoking.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 14._--Write. Read Homer, Targione, and Spanish. A
+ rainy day. Shelley reads Calderon.
+
+ _Thursday, November 23._--Write. Read Greek and Spanish. Medwin ill.
+ Play at chess.
+
+ _Friday, November 24._--Read Greek, Villani, and Spanish with M....
+ Pacchiani in the evening. A rainy and cloudy day.
+
+ _Friday, December 1._--Read Greek, _Don Quixote_, Calderon, and
+ Villani. Pacchiani comes in the evening. Visit La Viviani. Walk.
+ Sgricci is introduced. Go to a _funzione_ on the death of a student.
+
+ _Saturday, December 2._--Write an Italian letter to Hunt. Read
+ _Oedipus_, _Don Quixote_, and Calderon. Pacchiani and a Greek prince
+ call--Prince Mavrocordato.
+
+In these few entries occur four new and remarkable names. Pacchiani, who
+had been, if he was not still, a university professor, but who was none
+the less an adventurer and an impostor; in orders, moreover, which only
+served as a cloak for his hypocrisy; clever withal, and eloquent; well
+knowing where, and how, to ingratiate himself. He amused, but did not
+please the Shelleys. He was, however, one of those people who know
+everybody, and through him they made several acquaintances; among them the
+celebrated Improvisatore, Sgricci, and the young Greek statesman and
+patriot, Prince Alexander Mavrocordato. With the improvisations of
+Sgricci, his eloquence, his _entrain_, both Mary and Clare were fairly
+carried away with excitement. Older, experienced folk looked with a more
+critical eye on his performances, but to these English girls the
+exhibition was an absolute novelty, and seemed inspired. Sgricci was
+during this winter a frequent visitor at "Casa Galetti."
+
+Prince Mavrocordato proved deeply interesting, both to Mary and Shelley.
+He "was warmed by those aspirations for the independence of his country
+which filled the hearts of many of his countrymen," and in the revolution
+which, shortly afterwards, broke out there, he was to play an important
+part, as one of the foremost of modern Greek statesmen. To him, at a
+somewhat later date, was dedicated Shelley's lyrical drama of _Hellas_;
+"as an imperfect token of admiration, sympathy, and friendship."
+
+This new acquaintance came to Mary just when her interest in the Greek
+language and literature was most keen. Before long the prince had
+volunteered to help her in her studies, and came often to give her Greek
+lessons, receiving instruction in English in return.
+
+ "Do you not envy my luck," she wrote to Mrs. Gisborne, "that having
+ begun Greek, an amiable, young, agreeable, and learned Greek prince
+ comes every morning to give me a lesson of an hour and a half. This is
+ the result of an acquaintance with Pacchiani. So you see, even the
+ Devil has his use."
+
+The acquaintance with Pacchiani had already had another and a yet more
+memorable result, which affected Mary none the less that it did so
+indirectly. Through him they had come to know Emilia Viviani, the noble
+and beautiful Italian girl, immured by her father in a convent at Pisa
+until such time as a husband could be found for her who would take a wife
+without a dowry. Shelley's acquaintance with Emilia was an episode, which
+at one time looked like an era, in his existence. An era in his poetry it
+undoubtedly was, since it is to her that the _Epipsychidion_ is addressed.
+
+Mary and Clare were the first to see the lovely captive, and were struck
+with astonishment and admiration. But on Shelley the impression she made
+was overwhelming, and took possession of his whole nature. Her
+extraordinary beauty and grace, her powers of mind and conversation,
+warmed by that glow of genius so exclusively southern, another variety of
+which had captivated them all in Sgricci, and which to northern minds
+seems something phenomenal and inspired,--these were enough to subdue any
+man, and, when added to the halo of interest shed around her by her
+misfortunes and her misery, made her, to Shelley, irresistible.
+
+All his sentiments, when aroused, were passions; he pitied, he
+sympathised, he admired and venerated passionately; he scorned, hated, and
+condemned passionately too. But he never was swayed by any love that did
+not excite his imagination: his attachments were ever in proportion to
+the power of idealisation evoked in him by their objects. And never,
+surely, was there a subject for idealisation like Emilia; the Spirit of
+Intellectual Beauty in the form of a goddess; the captive maiden waiting
+for her Deliverer; the perfect embodiment of immortal Truth and
+Loveliness, held in chains by the powers of cruelty, tyranny, and
+hypocrisy.
+
+She was no goddess, poor Emilia, as indeed he soon found out; only a
+lovely young creature of vivid intelligence and a temperament in which
+Italian ardour was mingled with Italian subtlety; every germ of sentiment
+magnified and intensified in outward effect by fervour of manner and
+natural eloquence; the very reverse of human nature in the north, where
+depth of feeling is apt to be in proportion to its inveterate dislike of
+discovery, where warmth can rarely shake off self-consciousness, and where
+many of the best men and women are so much afraid of seeming a whit better
+than they really are, that they take pains to appear worse. Rightly
+balanced, the whole sum of Emilia's gifts and graces would have weighed
+little against Mary's nobleness of heart and unselfish devotion; her
+talents might not even have borne serious comparison with Clare's
+vivacious intellect. But to Shelley, haunted by a vision of perfection,
+and ever apt to recognise in a mortal image "the likeness of that which
+is, perhaps, eternal,"[38] she seemed a revelation, and, like all
+revelations, supreme, unique, superseding for the time every other
+possibility. It was a brief madness, a trance of inspiration, and its
+duration was counted only by days. They met for the first time early in
+December. By the 10th she was corresponding with him as her _diletto
+fratello_. Before the month was over _Epipsychidion_ had been written.
+
+Before the middle of January he could write of her--
+
+ My conception of Emilia's talents augments every day. Her moral nature
+ is fine, but not above circumstances; yet I think her tender and true,
+ which is always something. How many are only one of these things at a
+ time!...
+
+ There is no reason that you should fear any admixture of that which
+ you call _love_....
+
+This was written to Clare. She had very quickly become intimate and
+confidential with Emilia, and estimated her to a nicety at her real worth,
+admiring her without idealising her or caring to do so. She knew Shelley
+pretty intimately too, and, being personally unconcerned in the matter,
+could afford at once to be sympathetic and to speak her mind fearlessly;
+the consequence being that Shelley was unconstrained in communication with
+her.
+
+That _Mary_ should be his most sympathetic confidant at this juncture was
+not in the nature of things. She, too, had begun by idealising Emilia,
+but her affection and enthusiastic admiration were soon outdone and might
+well have been quenched by Shelley's rapt devotion. She did not
+misunderstand him, she knew him too well for that, but the better she
+understood him the less it was possible for her to feel with him; nor
+could it have been otherwise unless she had been really as cold as she
+sometimes appeared. Loyal herself, she never doubted Shelley's loyalty,
+but she suffered, though she did not choose to show it: her love, like a
+woman's,--perhaps even more than most women's--was exclusive; Shelley's,
+like a man's,--like many of the best of men's,--inclusive.
+
+She did not allow her feelings to interfere with her actions. She
+continued to show all possible sympathy and kindness to Emilia, who in
+return would style her her dearest, loveliest friend and sister. No
+wonder, however, if at times Mary could not quite overcome a slight
+constraint of manner, or if this was increased when her dearest sister,
+with sweet unconsciousness, would openly probe the wound her pride would
+fain have hidden from herself; when Emilia, for instance, wrote to
+Shelley--
+
+ Mary does not write to me. Is it possible that she loves me less than
+ the others do? I should indeed be inconsolable at that.
+
+Or to be informed in a letter to herself that this constraint of manner
+had been talked over by Emilia with Shelley, who had assured her that
+Mary's apparent coldness was only "the ash which covered an affectionate
+heart."
+
+He was right, indeed, and his words were the faithful echo of his own true
+heart. He might have added, of himself, that his transient enthusiasms
+resembled the soaring blaze of sparks struck by a hammer from a glowing
+mass of molten metal.
+
+But, in everyday prose, the situation was a trying one for Mary, and
+surely no wife of two and twenty could have met it more bravely and simply
+than she did.
+
+ "It is grievous," she wrote to Leigh Hunt, "to see this beautiful girl
+ wearing out the best years of her life in an odious convent, where
+ both mind and body are sick from want of the appropriate exercise for
+ each. I think she has great talent, if not genius; or if not an
+ internal fountain, how could she have acquired the mastery she has of
+ her own language, which she writes so beautifully, or those ideas
+ which lift her so far above the rest of the Italians? She has not
+ studied much, and now, hopeless from a five years' confinement,
+ everything disgusts her, and she looks with hatred and distaste even
+ on the alleviations of her situation. Her only hope is in a marriage
+ which her parents tell her is concluded, although she has never seen
+ the person intended for her. Nor do I think the change of situation
+ will be much for the better, for he is a younger brother, and will
+ live in the house with his mother, who they say is _molto seccante_.
+ Yet she may then have the free use of her limbs; she may then be able
+ to walk out among the fields, vineyards, and woods of her country,
+ and see the mountains and the sky, and not as now, a dozen steps to
+ the right, and then back to the left another dozen, which is the
+ longest walk her convent garden affords, and that, you may be sure,
+ she is very seldom tempted to take."
+
+By the middle of February Shelley was sending his poem for publication,
+speaking of it as the production of "a part of himself already dead." He
+continued, however, to take an almost painful interest in Emilia's fate;
+she, poor girl, though not the sublime creature he had thought her, was
+infinitely to be pitied. Before their acquaintance ended, she was turning
+it to practical account, after the fashion of most of Shelley's friends,
+by begging for and obtaining considerable sums of money.
+
+If Mary then indulged in a little retrospective sarcasm to her friend,
+Mrs. Gisborne, it is hardly wonderful. Indeed, later allusions are not
+wanting to show that this time was felt by her to be one of annoyance and
+bitterness.
+
+Two circumstances were in her favour. She was well, and, therefore,
+physically able to look at things in their true light; and, during a great
+part of the time, Clare was away. In the previous October, during their
+stay at the Baths, she had at last resolved on trying to make out some
+sort of life for herself, and had taken a situation as governess in a
+Florentine family. She had come back to the Shelleys for the month of
+December (when it was that she became acquainted with Emilia Vivani), but
+had returned to Florence at Christmas.
+
+She had been persuaded to this step by the judicious Mrs. Mason, who had
+soon perceived the strained relations existing between Mary and Clare, and
+had seen, too, that the disunion was only the natural and inevitable
+result of circumstances. It was not only that the two girls were of
+opposite and jarring temperament; there was also the fact that half the
+suspicious mistrust with Shelley was regarded by those who did not
+personally know him, and the shadow of which rested on Mary too, was
+caused by Clare's continued presence among them. As things were now, it
+might have passed without remark, but for the scandalous reports which
+dated back to the Marlow days, and which had recently been revived by the
+slanders of Paolo, although the extent of these slanders had not yet
+transpired. Shelley had been alive enough to the danger at one time, but
+had now got accustomed and indifferent to it. He had a great affection and
+a great compassion for Clare; her vivacity enlivened him; he said himself
+that he liked her although she teased him, and he certainly missed her
+teasing when she was away. But Mary, to whom Clare's perpetual society was
+neither a solace nor a change, and who, as the mother of children, could
+no longer look at things from a purely egotistic point of view, must have
+felt it positively unjust and wrong to allow their father's reputation to
+be sacrificed--to say nothing of her own--to what was in no wise a
+necessity. Shelley loved solitude--a mitigated solitude that is;--he
+certainly did not pine for general society. Yet many of his letters bear
+unmistakable evidence to the pain and resentment he felt at being
+universally shunned by his own countrymen, as if he were an enemy of the
+human race. But Mary, a woman, and only twenty-two, must have been
+self-sufficient indeed if, with all her mental resources, she had not
+required the renovation of change and contrast and varied intercourse, to
+keep her mind and spirit fresh and bright, and to fit her for being a
+companion and a resource to Shelley. That she and he were condemned to
+protracted isolation was partly due to Clare, and when Mary was weak and
+dejected, her consciousness of this became painful, and her feeling
+towards the sprightly, restless Miss Clairmont was touched with positive
+antipathy. Shelley, considering Clare the weaker party, supported her, in
+the main, and certainly showed no desire to have her away. He might have
+seen that to impose her presence on Mary in such circumstances was, in
+fact, as great a piece of tyranny as he had suffered from when Eliza
+Westbrook was imposed on him. But of this he was, and he remained,
+perfectly unconscious. Clare ought to have retired from the field, but her
+dependent condition, and her wretched anxiety about Allegra, were her
+excuse for clinging to the only friends she had.
+
+All this was evident to Mrs. Mason, and it was soon shown that she had
+judged rightly, as the relations between Mary and Clare became cordial and
+natural once they were relieved from the intolerable friction of daily
+companionship.
+
+During this time of excitement and unrest one new acquaintance had,
+however, begun, which circumstances were to develop into a close and
+intimate companionship.
+
+In January there had arrived at Pisa a young couple of the name of
+Williams; mainly attracted by the desire to see and to know Shelley, of
+whose gifts and virtues and sufferings they had heard much from Tom
+Medwin, their neighbour in Switzerland the year before. Lieutenant Edward
+Elliker Williams had been, first, in the Navy, then in the Army; had met
+his wife in India, and, returning with her to England, had sold his
+commission and retired on half-pay. He was young, of a frank
+straightforward disposition and most amiable temper, modest and
+unpretentious, with some literary taste, and no strong prejudices. Jane
+Williams was young and pretty, gentle and graceful, neither very
+cultivated nor particularly clever, but with a comfortable absence of
+angles in her disposition, and an abundance of that feminine tact which
+prevents intellectual shortcomings from being painfully felt, and which
+is, in its way, a manifestation of genius. Not an uncommon type of woman,
+but quite new in the Shelleys' experience. At first they thought her
+rather wanting in animation, and Shelley was conscious of her lack of
+literary refinement, but these were more and more compensated for, as time
+went on, by her natural grace and her taste for music. "Ned" was something
+of an artist, and Mary Shelley sat more than once to him for her portrait.
+There was, in short, no lack of subjects in common, and the two young
+couples found a mutual pleasure in each other's society which increased in
+measure as they became better acquainted.
+
+In March poor Clare received with bitter grief the intelligence that her
+child had been placed by Byron in a convent, at Bagnacavallo, not far from
+Ravenna, where he now lived. Under the sway of the Countess Guiccioli,
+whose father and brother were domesticated in his house, he was leading
+what, in comparison with his Venetian existence, was a life of
+respectability and virtue. His action with regard to Allegra was
+considered by the Shelleys as, probably, inevitable in the circumstances,
+but to Clare it was a terrible blow. She felt more hopelessly separated
+from her child than ever, and she had seen enough of Italian convent
+education and its results to convince her that it meant moral and
+intellectual degradation and death. Her despairing representations to this
+effect were, of course, unanswered by Byron, who contented himself with a
+Mephistophelian sneer in showing her letter to the Hoppners.
+
+With the true "malignity of those who turn sweet food into poison,
+transforming all they touch to the malignity of their own natures,"[39] he
+had no hesitation in giving credit to the reports about Clare's life in
+the Shelleys' family, nor in openly implying his own belief in their
+probable truth.
+
+But for this, and for one great alarm caused by the sudden and
+unaccountable stoppage of Shelley's income (through a mistake which
+happily was discovered and speedily rectified by his good friend, Horace
+Smith), the spring was, for Mary, peaceful and bright. She was assiduous
+in her Greek studies, and keenly interested in the contemporary European
+politics of that stirring time; as full of sympathy as Shelley himself
+could be with the numerous insurrectionary outbreaks in favour of liberty.
+And when the revolution in Greece broke out, and one bright April morning
+Prince Mavrocordato rushed in to announce to her the proclamation of
+Prince Hypsilantes, her elation and joy almost equalled his own.
+
+In companionship with the Williams', aided and abetted by Henry Reveley,
+Shelley's old passion for boating revived. In the little ten-foot long
+boat procured for him for a few pauls, and then fitted up by Mr. Reveley,
+they performed many a voyage, on the Arno, on the canal between Pisa and
+Leghorn, and even on the sea. Their first trip was marked by an
+accident--Williams contriving to overturn the boat. Nothing daunted,
+Shelley declared next day that his ducking had added fire to, instead of
+quenching, the nautical ardour which produced it, and that he considered
+it a good omen to any enterprise that it began in evil, as making it more
+likely that it would end in good.
+
+All these events are touched on in the few specimen extracts from Mary's
+journal and letters which follow--
+
+ _Wednesday, January 31._--Read Greek. Call on Emilia Viviani. Shelley
+ reads the _Vita Nuova_ aloud to me in the evening.
+
+ _Friday, February 2._--Read Greek. Write. Emilia Viviani walks out
+ with Shelley. The Opera, with the Williams' (_Il Matrimonio Segreto_).
+
+ _Tuesday, February 6._--Read Greek. Sit to Williams. Call on Emilia
+ Viviani. Prince Mavrocordato in the evening. A long metaphysical
+ argument.
+
+ _Wednesday, February 7._--Read Greek. Sit to Williams. In the evening
+ the Williams', Prince Mavrocordato, and Mr. Taafe.
+
+ _Monday, February 12._--Read Greek (no lesson). Finish the _Vita
+ Nuova_. In the afternoon call on Emilia Viviani. Walk. Mr. Taafe
+ calls.
+
+ _Thursday, February 27._--Read Greek. The Williams to dine with us.
+ Walk with them. Il Diavolo Pacchiani calls. Shelley reads "The Ancient
+ Mariner" aloud.
+
+ _Saturday, March 4._--Read Greek (no lesson). Walk with the Williams'.
+ Read Horace with Shelley in the evening. A delightful day.
+
+ _Sunday, March 5._--Read Greek. Write letters. The Williams' to dine
+ with us. Walk with them. Williams relates his history. They spend the
+ evening with us, with Prince Mavrocordato and Mr. Taafe.
+
+ _Thursday, March 8._--Read Greek (no lesson). Call on Emilia Viviani.
+ E. Williams calls. Shelley reads _The Case is Altered_ of Ben Jonson
+ aloud in the evening. A mizzling day and rainy night.... March winds
+ and rains are begun, the last puff of winter's breath,--the eldest
+ tears of a coming spring; she ever comes in weeping and goes out
+ smiling.
+
+ _Monday, March 12._--Read Greek (no lesson). Finish the _Defence of
+ Poetry_. Copy for Shelley; he reads to me the _Tale of a Tub_. A
+ delightful day after a misty morning.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 14._--Read Greek (no lesson). Copy for Shelley. Walk
+ with Williams. Prince Mavrocordato in the evening. I have an
+ interesting conversation with him concerning Greece. The second
+ bulletin of the Austrians published. A sirocco, but a pleasant
+ evening,
+
+ _Friday, March 16._--Read Greek. Copy for Shelley. Walk with Williams.
+ Mrs. Williams confined. News of the Revolution of Piedmont, and the
+ taking of the citadel of Candia by the Greeks. A beautiful day, but
+ not hot.
+
+ _Sunday, March 18._--Read Greek. Copy for Shelley. A sirocco and
+ mizzle. Bad news from Naples. Walk with Williams. Prince Mavrocordato
+ in the evening.
+
+ _Monday, March 26._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato. Finish the
+ _Antigone_. A mizzling day. Spend the evening at the Williams'.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 28._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato. Call on Emilia
+ Viviani. Walk with Williams. Mr. Taafe in the evening. A fine day,
+ though changeful as to clouds and wind. The State of Massa declares
+ the Constitution. The Piedmontese troops are at Sarzana.
+
+ _Sunday, April 1._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato calls with news
+ about Greece. He is as gay as a caged eagle just free. Call on Emilia
+ Viviani. Walk with Williams; he spends the evening with us.
+
+ _Monday, April 2._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato calls with the
+ proclamation of Ipsilanti. Write to him. Ride with Shelley into the
+ Cascini. A divine day, with a north-west wind. The theatre in the
+ evening. Tachinardi.
+
+ _Wednesday, April 11._--Read Greek, and _Osservatore Fiorentino_. A
+ letter that overturns us.[40] Walk with Shelley. In the evening
+ Williams and Alex. Mavrocordato.
+
+ _Friday, April 13._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato calls.
+ _Osservatore Fiorentino_. Walk with the Williams'. Shelley at Casa
+ Silva in the evening. An explanation of our difficulty.
+
+ _Monday, April 16._--Write. Targioni. Read Greek. Mrs. Williams to
+ dinner. In the evening Mr. Taafe. A wet morning: in the afternoon a
+ fierce maestrale. Shelley, Williams, and Henry Reveley try to come up
+ the canal to Pisa; miss their way, are capsized, and sleep at a
+ contadino's.
+
+ _Tuesday, April 24._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato. Hume. Villani.
+ Walk with the Williams'. Alex. M. calls in the evening, with good news
+ from Greece. The Morea free.
+
+They now migrated once more to the beautiful neighbourhood of the Baths of
+San Giuliano di Pisa; the Williams' established themselves at Pugnano,
+only four miles off: the canal fed by the Serchio ran between the two
+places, and the little boat was in constant requisition.
+
+ Our boat is asleep on Serchio's stream,
+ Its sails are folded like thoughts in a dream,
+ The helm sways idly, hither and thither;
+ Dominic, the boatman, has brought the mast,
+ And the oars, and the sails; but 'tis sleeping fast,
+ Like a beast, unconscious of its tether.[41]
+
+ The canal which, fed by the Serchio, was, though an artificial, a full
+ and picturesque stream, making its way under verdant banks, sheltered
+ by trees that dipped their boughs into the murmuring waters. By day,
+ multitudes of ephemera darted to and fro on the surface; at night, the
+ fireflies came out among the shrubs on the banks; the _cicale_, at
+ noonday, kept up their hum; the aziola cooed in the quiet evening. It
+ was a pleasant summer, bright in all but Shelley's health and
+ inconstant spirits; yet he enjoyed himself greatly, and became more
+ and more attached to the part of the country where chance appeared to
+ cast us. Sometimes he projected taking a farm, situated on the height
+ of one of the near hills, surrounded by chestnut and pine woods and
+ overlooking a wide extent of country; or of settling still further in
+ the maritime Apennines, at Massa. Several of his slighter and
+ unfinished poems were inspired by these scenes, and by the companions
+ around us. It is the nature of that poetry, however, which overflows
+ from the soul, oftener to express sorrow and regret than joy; for it
+ is when oppressed by the weight of life and away from those he loves,
+ that the poet has recourse to the solace of expression in verse.[42]
+
+
+ _Journal, Thursday, May 3._--Read Villani. Go out in boat; call on
+ Emilia Viviani. Walk with Shelley. In the evening Alex. Mavrocordato,
+ Henry Reveley, Dancelli, and Mr. Taafe.
+
+ _Friday, May 4._--Read Greek. (Alex. M.) Read Villani. Shelley goes to
+ Leghorn by sea with Henry Reveley.
+
+ _Tuesday, May 8._--Packing. Read Greek (Alex. Mavrocordato). Shelley
+ goes to Leghorn. In the evening walk with Alex. M. to Pugnano. See the
+ Williams; return to the Baths. Shelley and Henry Reveley come. The
+ weather quite April; rain and sunshine, and by no means warm.
+
+ _Saturday, June 23._--Abominably cold weather--rain, wind, and
+ cloud--quite an Italian November or a Scotch May. Shelley and Williams
+ go to Leghorn. Write. Read and finish Malthus. Begin the answer.[43]
+ Jane (Williams) spends the day here, and Edward returns in the
+ evening. Read Greek.
+
+ _Sunday, June 24._--Write. Read the _Answer to Malthus_. Finish it.
+ Shelley at Leghorn.
+
+ _Monday, June 25._--Little babe not well. Shelley returns. The
+ Williams call. Read old plays. Vaccà calls.
+
+ _Tuesday, June 26._--Babe well. Write. Read Greek. Shelley not well.
+ Mr. Taafe and Granger dine with us. Walk with Shelley. Vaccà calls.
+ Alex. Mavrocordato sails.
+
+ _Thursday, June 28._--Write. Read Greek. Read Mackenzie's works. Go to
+ Pugnano in the boat. The warmest day this month. Fireflies in the
+ evening.
+
+They were near enough to Pisa to go over there from time to time to see
+Emilia and other friends, and for Prince Mavrocordato to come frequently
+and give them the latest political news: the Greek lessons had been
+voluntarily abjured by Mary when it seemed probable that the Prince might
+be summoned at any moment to play an active part in the affairs of his
+country, as actually happened in June. Shelley was still tormented by the
+pain in his side, but his health and spirits were insensibly improving, as
+he himself afterwards admitted. He was occupied in writing _Hellas_; his
+elegy on Keats's death, _Adonais_ also belongs to this time. Ned Williams,
+infected by the surrounding atmosphere of literature, had tried his
+'prentice hand on a drama. In the words of his own journal--
+
+ Went in the summer to Pugnano--passed the first three months in
+ writing a play entitled _The Promise, or a year, a month, and a day_.
+ S. tells me if they accept it he has great hopes of its success before
+ an audience, and his hopes always enliven mine.
+
+Mary was straining every nerve to finish _Valperga_, in the hope of being
+able to send it to England by the Gisbornes, who were preparing to leave
+Italy,--a hope, however, which was not fulfilled.
+
+ MARY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ BATHS OF S. GIULIANO,
+ _30th June 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Well, how do you get on? Mr. Gisborne says
+ nothing of that in the note which he wrote yesterday, and it is that
+ in which I am most interested.
+
+ I pity you exceedingly in all the disagreeable details to which you
+ are obliged to sacrifice your time and attention. I can conceive no
+ employment more tedious; but now I hope it is nearly over, and that as
+ the fruit of its conclusion you will soon come to see us. Shelley is
+ far from well; he suffers from his side and nervous irritation. The
+ day on which he returned from Leghorn he found little Percy ill of a
+ fever produced by teething. He got well the next day, but it was so
+ strong while it lasted that it frightened us greatly. You know how
+ much reason we have to fear the deceitful appearance of perfect
+ health. You see that this, your last summer in Italy, is manufactured
+ on purpose to accustom you to the English seasons.
+
+ It is warmer now, but we still enjoy the delight of cloudy skies. The
+ "Creator" has not yet made himself heard. I get on with my occupation,
+ and hope to finish the rough transcript this month. I shall then give
+ about a month to corrections, and then I shall transcribe it. It has
+ indeed been a child of mighty slow growth since I first thought of it
+ in our library at Marlow. I then wanted the body in which I might
+ embody my spirit. The materials for this I found at Naples, but I
+ wanted other books. Nor did I begin it till a year afterwards at Pisa;
+ it was again suspended during our stay at your house, and continued
+ again at the Baths. All the winter I did not touch it, but now it is
+ in a state of great forwardness, since I am at page 71 of the third
+ volume. It has indeed been a work of some labour, since I have read
+ and consulted a great many books. I shall be very glad to read the
+ first volume to you, that you may give me your opinion as to the
+ conduct and interest of the story. June is now at its last gasp. You
+ talked of going in August, I hope therefore that we may soon expect
+ you. Have you heard anything concerning the inhabitants of Skinner
+ Street? It is now many months since I received a letter, and I begin
+ to grow alarmed. Adieu.--Ever sincerely yours,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+On the 26th of July the Gisbornes came to pay their friends a short
+farewell visit; on the 29th they started for England; Shelley going with
+them as far as Florence, where he and Mary thought again of settling for
+the winter, and where he wished to make inquiries about houses. During his
+few days' absence the Williams' were almost constantly with Mary. Edward
+Williams was busy painting a portrait of her in miniature, intended by
+her as a surprise for Shelley on his birthday, the 4th of August. But when
+that day arrived Shelley was unavoidably absent. On his return to the
+Baths he had found a letter from Lord Byron, with a pressing invitation to
+visit him at Ravenna, whence Byron was on the point of departing to join
+Countess Guiccioli and her family, who had been exiled from the Roman
+States for Carbonarism, and who, for the present, had taken refuge at
+Florence.
+
+Shelley's thoughts turned at once, as they could not but do, to poor
+little Allegra, in her convent of Bagnacavallo. What was to become of her?
+Where would or could she be sent? or was she to be conveniently forgotten
+and left behind? He was off next day, the 3d; paid a flying visit to
+Clare, who was staying for her health at Leghorn, and arrived at Ravenna
+on the 6th.
+
+The miniature was finished and ready for him on his birthday. Mary, alone
+on that anniversary, was fain to look back over the past eventful seven
+years,--their joys, their sorrows, their many changes. Not long before,
+she had said, in a letter to Clare, "One is not gay, at least I am not,
+but peaceful, and at peace with all the world." The same tone
+characterises the entry in her journal for 4th August.
+
+ Shelley's birthday. Seven years are now gone; what changes! what a
+ life! We now appear tranquil, yet who knows what wind----but I will
+ not prognosticate evil; we have had enough of it. When Shelley came to
+ Italy I said, all is well, if it were permanent; it was more passing
+ than an Italian twilight. I now say the same. May it be a Polar day,
+ yet that, too, has an end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+AUGUST-NOVEMBER 1821
+
+
+From Bologna Shelley wrote to Mary an amusing account of his journey, so
+far. But this letter was speedily followed by another, written within a
+few hours of his arrival at Ravenna; a letter, this second one, to make
+Mary's blood run cold, although it is expressed with all the calmness and
+temperance that Shelley could command.
+
+ RAVENNA, _7th August 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAREST MARY--I arrived last night at 10 o'clock, and sate up
+ talking with Lord Byron until 5 this morning. I then went to sleep,
+ and now awake at 11, and having despatched my breakfast as quick as
+ possible, mean to devote the interval until 12, when the post departs,
+ to you.
+
+ Lord Byron is very well, and was delighted to see me. He has, in fact,
+ completely recovered his health, and lives a life totally the reverse
+ of that which he led at Venice. He has a permanent sort of _liaison_
+ with Contessa Guiccioli, who is now at Florence, and seems from her
+ letters to be a very amiable woman. She is waiting there until
+ something shall be decided as to their emigration to Switzerland or
+ stay in Italy, which is yet undetermined on either side. She was
+ compelled to escape from the Papal territory in great haste, as
+ measures had already been taken to place her in a convent, where she
+ would have been unrelentingly confined for life. The oppression of the
+ marriage contract, as existing in the laws and opinions of Italy,
+ though less frequently exercised, is far severer than that of England.
+ I tremble to think of what poor Emilia is destined to.
+
+ Lord Byron had almost destroyed himself in Venice; his state of
+ debility was such that he was unable to digest any food; he was
+ consumed by hectic fever, and would speedily have perished, but for
+ this attachment, which has reclaimed him from the excesses into which
+ he threw himself, from carelessness rather than taste. Poor fellow! he
+ is now quite well, and immersed in politics and literature. He has
+ given me a number of the most interesting details on the former
+ subject, but we will not speak of them in a letter. Fletcher is here,
+ and as if, like a shadow, he waxed and waned with the substance of his
+ master, Fletcher also has recovered his good looks, and from amidst
+ the unseasonable gray hairs a fresh harvest of flaxen locks has put
+ forth.
+
+ We talked a great deal of poetry and such matters last night, and, as
+ usual, differed, and I think more than ever. He affects to patronise a
+ system of criticism fit for the production of mediocrity, and,
+ although all his fine poems and passages have been produced in
+ defiance of this system, yet I recognise the pernicious effects of it
+ in the _Doge of Venice_, and it will cramp and limit his future
+ efforts, however great they may be, unless he gets rid of it. I have
+ read only parts of it, or rather, he himself read them to me, and gave
+ me the plan of the whole.
+
+ Allegra, he says, is grown very beautiful, but he complains that her
+ temper is violent and imperious. He has no intention of leaving her in
+ Italy; indeed, the thing is too improper in itself not to carry
+ condemnation along with it. Contessa Guiccioli, he says, is very fond
+ of her; indeed, I cannot see why she should not take care of it, if
+ she is to live as his ostensible mistress. All this I shall know more
+ of soon.
+
+ Lord Byron has also told me of a circumstance that shocks me
+ exceedingly, because it exhibits a degree of desperate and wicked
+ malice, for which I am at a loss to account. When I hear such things
+ my patience and my philosophy are put to a severe proof, whilst I
+ refrain from seeking out some obscure hiding-place, where the
+ countenance of man may never meet me more. It seems that _Elise_,
+ actuated either by some inconceivable malice for our dismissing her,
+ or bribed by my enemies, has persuaded the Hoppners of a story so
+ monstrous and incredible that they must have been prone to believe any
+ evil to have believed such assertions upon such evidence. Mr. Hoppner
+ wrote to Lord Byron to state this story as the reason why he declined
+ any further communications with us, and why he advised him to do the
+ same. Elise says that Claire was my mistress; that is very well, and
+ so far there is nothing new; all the world has heard so much, and
+ people may believe or not believe as they think good. She then
+ proceeds further to say that Claire was with child by me; that I gave
+ her the most violent medicine to procure abortion; that this not
+ succeeding she was brought to bed, and that I immediately tore the
+ child from her and sent it to the Foundling Hospital,--I quote Mr.
+ Hoppner's words,--and this is stated to have taken place in the winter
+ after we left Este. In addition, she says that both Claire and I
+ treated you in the most shameful manner; that I neglected and beat
+ you, and that Claire never let a day pass without offering you insults
+ of the most violent kind, in which she was abetted by me.
+
+ As to what Reviews and the world say, I do not care a jot, but when
+ persons who have known me are capable of conceiving of me--not that I
+ have fallen into a great error, as would have been the living with
+ Claire as my mistress--but that I have committed such unutterable
+ crimes as destroying or abandoning a child, and that my own! Imagine
+ my despair of good! Imagine how it is possible that one of so weak and
+ sensitive a nature as mine can run further the gauntlet through this
+ hellish society of men! _You_ should write to the Hoppners a letter
+ refuting the charge, in case you believe and know, and can prove that
+ it is false, stating the grounds and proof of your belief. I need not
+ dictate what you should say, nor, I hope, inspire you with warmth to
+ rebut a charge which you only can effectually rebut. If you will send
+ the letter to me here, I will forward it to the Hoppners. Lord Byron
+ is not up. I do not know the Hoppners' address, and I am anxious not
+ to lose a post.
+
+ P. B. S.
+
+Mary's feelings on the perusal of this letter may be faintly imagined by
+those who read it now, and who know what manner of woman she actually was.
+They are expressed, as far as they could be expressed, in the letter
+which, in accordance with Shelley's desire, and while still smarting under
+the first shock of grief and profound indignation, she wrote off to Mrs.
+Hoppner, and enclosed in a note to Shelley himself.
+
+ MARY TO SHELLEY.
+
+ MY DEAR SHELLEY--Shocked beyond all measure as I was, I instantly
+ wrote the enclosed. If the task be not too dreadful, pray copy it for
+ me; I cannot.
+
+ Read that part of your letter that contains the accusation. I tried,
+ but I could not write it. I think I could as soon have died. I send
+ also Elise's last letter: enclose it or not, as you think best.
+
+ I wrote to you with far different feelings last night, beloved friend,
+ our barque is indeed "tempest tost," but love me as you have ever
+ done, and God preserve my child to me, and our enemies shall not be
+ too much for us. Consider well if Florence be a fit residence for us.
+ I love, I own, to face danger, but I would not be imprudent.
+
+ Pray get my letter to Mrs. Hoppner copied for a thousand reasons.
+ Adieu, dearest! Take care of yourself--all yet is well. The shock for
+ me is over, and I now despise the slander; but it must not pass
+ uncontradicted. I sincerely thank Lord Byron for his kind
+ unbelief.--Affectionately yours,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+ Do not think me imprudent in mentioning E.'s[44] illness at Naples. It
+ is well to meet facts. They are as cunning as wicked. I have read over
+ my letter; it is written in haste, but it were as well that the first
+ burst of feeling should be expressed.
+
+
+ PISA, _10th August 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. HOPPNER--After a silence of nearly two years I address
+ you again, and most bitterly do I regret the occasion on which I now
+ write. Pardon me that I do not write in French; you understand English
+ well, and I am too much impressed to shackle myself in a foreign
+ language; even in my own my thoughts far outrun my pen, so that I can
+ hardly form the letters. I write to defend him to whom I have the
+ happiness to be united, whom I love and esteem beyond all living
+ creatures, from the foulest calumnies; and to you I write this, who
+ were so kind, and to Mr. Hoppner, to both of whom I indulged the
+ pleasing idea that I have every reason to feel gratitude. This is
+ indeed a painful task. Shelley is at present on a visit to Lord Byron
+ at Ravenna, and I received a letter from him to-day, containing
+ accounts that make my hand tremble so much that I can hardly hold the
+ pen. It tells me that Elise wrote to you, relating the most hideous
+ stories against him, and that you have believed them. Before I speak
+ of these falsehoods, permit me to say a few words concerning this
+ miserable girl. You well know that she formed an attachment with Paolo
+ when we proceeded to Rome, and at Naples their marriage was talked of.
+ We all tried to dissuade her; we knew Paolo to be a rascal, and we
+ thought so well of her. An accident led me to the knowledge that
+ without marrying they had formed a connection. She was ill; we sent
+ for a doctor, who said there was danger of a miscarriage, I would not
+ throw the girl on the world without in some degree binding her to this
+ man. We had them married at Sir R. A. Court's. She left us, turned
+ Catholic at Rome, married him, and then went to Florence. After the
+ disastrous death of my child we came to Tuscany. We have seen little
+ of them, but we have had knowledge that Paolo has formed a scheme of
+ extorting money from Shelley by false accusations. He has written him
+ threatening letters, saying that he would be the ruin of him, etc. We
+ placed them in the hands of a celebrated lawyer here, who has done
+ what he can to silence him. Elise has never interfered in this, and
+ indeed the other day I received a letter from her, entreating, with
+ great professions of love, that I would send her money. I took no
+ notice of this, but although I know her to be in evil hands, I would
+ not believe that she was wicked enough to join in his plans without
+ proof. And now I come to her accusations, and I must indeed summon all
+ my courage whilst I transcribe them, for tears will force their way,
+ and how can it be otherwise?
+
+ You know Shelley, you saw his face, and could you believe them?
+ Believe them only on the testimony of a girl whom you despised? I had
+ hoped that such a thing was impossible, and that although strangers
+ might believe the calumnies that this man propagated, none who had
+ ever seen my husband could for a moment credit them.
+
+ He says Claire was Shelley's mistress, that--upon my word I solemnly
+ assure you that I cannot write the words. I send you a part of
+ Shelley's letter that you may see what I am now about to refute, but I
+ had rather die than copy anything so vilely, so wickedly false, so
+ beyond all imagination fiendish.
+
+ But that you should believe it! That my beloved Shelley should stand
+ thus slandered in your minds--he, the gentlest and most humane of
+ creatures--is more painful to me, oh! far more painful than words can
+ express. Need I say that the union between my husband and myself has
+ ever been undisturbed? Love caused our first imprudence--love, which,
+ improved by esteem, a perfect trust one in the other, a confidence and
+ affection which, visited as we have been by severe calamities (have we
+ not lost two children?), has increased daily and knows no bounds. I
+ will add that Claire has been separated from us for about a year. She
+ lives with a respectable German family at Florence. The reasons for
+ this were obvious: her connection with us made her manifest as the
+ Miss Clairmont, the mother of Allegra; besides we live much alone, she
+ enters much into society there, and, solely occupied with the idea of
+ the welfare of her child, she wished to appear such that she may not
+ be thought in after times to be unworthy of fulfilling the maternal
+ duties. You ought to have paused before you tried to convince the
+ father of her child of such unheard-of atrocities on her part. If his
+ generosity and knowledge of the world had not made him reject the
+ slander with the ridicule it deserved, what irretrievable mischief you
+ would have occasioned her. Those who know me well believe my simple
+ word--it is not long ago that my father said in a letter to me that he
+ had never known me utter a falsehood,--but you, easy as you have been
+ to credit evil, who may be more deaf to truth--to you I swear by all
+ that I hold sacred upon heaven and earth, by a vow which I should die
+ to write if I affirmed a falsehood,--I swear by the life of my child,
+ by my blessed, beloved child, that I know the accusations to be false.
+ But I have said enough to convince you, and are you not convinced? Are
+ not my words the words of truth? Repair, I conjure you, the evil you
+ have done by retracting your confidence in one so vile as Elise, and
+ by writing to me that you now reject as false every circumstance of
+ her infamous tale.
+
+ You were kind to us, and I will never forget it; now I require
+ justice. You must believe me, and do me, I solemnly entreat you, the
+ justice to confess you do so.
+
+ MARY W. SHELLEY.
+
+ I send this letter to Shelley at Ravenna, that he may see it, for
+ although I ought, the subject is too odious to me to copy it. I wish
+ also that Lord Byron should see it; he gave no credit to the tale, but
+ it is as well that he should see how entirely fabulous it is.
+
+Shelley, meanwhile, never far from her in thought, and knowing only too
+well how acutely she would suffer from all this, was writing to her
+again.
+
+ SHELLEY TO MARY.
+
+ MY DEAREST MARY--I wrote to you yesterday, and I begin another letter
+ to-day without knowing exactly when I can send it, as I am told the
+ post only goes once a week. I daresay the subject of the latter half
+ of my letter gave you pain, but it was necessary to look the affair in
+ the face, and the only satisfactory answer to the calumny must be
+ given by you, and could be given by you alone. This is evidently the
+ source of the violent denunciations of the _Literary Gazette_, in
+ themselves contemptible enough, and only to be regarded as effects
+ which show us their cause, which, until we put off our mortal nature,
+ we never despise--that is, the belief of persons who have known and
+ seen you that you are guilty of crimes. A certain degree and a certain
+ kind of infamy is to be borne, and, in fact, is the best compliment
+ which an exalted nature can receive from a filthy world, of which it
+ is its hell to be a part, but this sort of thing exceeds the measure,
+ and even if it were only for the sake of our dear Percy, I would take
+ some pains to suppress it. In fact it shall be suppressed, even if I
+ am driven to the disagreeable necessity of prosecuting him before the
+ Tuscan tribunals....
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Write to me at Florence, where I shall remain a day at least, and send
+ me letters, or news of letters. How is my little darling? and how are
+ you, and how do you get on with your book? Be severe in your
+ corrections, and expect severity from me, your sincere admirer. I
+ flatter myself you have composed something unequalled in its kind, and
+ that, not content with the honours of your birth and your hereditary
+ aristocracy, you will add still higher renown to your name. Expect me
+ at the end of my appointed time. I do not think I shall be detained.
+ Is Claire with you? or is she coming? Have you heard anything of my
+ poor Emilia, from whom I got a letter the day of my departure, saying
+ that her marriage was deferred for a very short time, on account of
+ the illness of her Sposo? How are the Williams', and Williams
+ especially? Give my very kindest love to them.
+
+ Lord Byron has here splendid apartments in the house of his mistress's
+ husband, who is one of the richest men in Italy. _She_ is divorced,
+ with an allowance of 1200 crowns a year--a miserable pittance from a
+ man who has 120,000 a year. Here are two monkeys, five cats, eight
+ dogs, and ten horses, all of whom (except the horses) walk about the
+ house like the masters of it. Tita, the Venetian, is here, and
+ operates as my valet; a fine fellow, with a prodigious black beard,
+ and who has stabbed two or three people, and is one of the most
+ good-natured-looking fellows I ever saw.
+
+ We have good rumours of the Greeks here, and a Russian war. I hardly
+ wish the Russians to take any part in it. My maxim is with Æschylus:
+ [Greek: to dyssebes--meta men pleiona tiktei, sphetera d'eikota
+ genna].
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ There is a Greek exercise for you. How should slaves produce anything
+ but tyranny, even as the seed produces the plant? Adieu, dear
+ Mary.--Yours affectionately,
+
+ S.
+
+At Ravenna there was only a weekly post. Shelley had to wait a long time
+for Mary's answer, and before it could reach him he was writing to her yet
+a third time. His mind was now full of Allegra. She was not to be left
+alone in Italy. Shelley, enlightened by Emilia Viviani, had been able to
+give Byron, on the subject of convents, such information as to "shake his
+faith in the purity of these receptacles." But no conclusions of any sort
+had been arrived at as to her future; and Shelley entreated Mary to rack
+her brains, to inquire of all her friends, to leave no stone unturned, if
+by any possibility she could find some fitting asylum, some safe home for
+the lovely child. He had been to see the little girl at her convent, and
+all readers of his letters know the description of the fairy creature,
+who, with her "contemplative seriousness, mixed with excessive vivacity,
+seemed a thing of a higher and a finer order" than the children around
+her; happy and well cared for, as far as he could judge; pale, but
+lovelier and livelier than ever, and full of childish glee and fun.
+
+At this point of his letter Mary's budget arrived, and Shelley continued
+as follows--
+
+ RAVENNA, _Thursday_.
+
+ I have received your letter with that to Mrs. Hoppner. I do not
+ wonder, my dearest friend, that you should have been moved. I was at
+ first, but speedily regained the indifference which the opinion of
+ anything or anybody, except our own consciousness, amply merits, and
+ day by day shall more receive from me. I have not recopied your
+ letter, such a measure would destroy its authenticity, but have given
+ it to Lord Byron, who has engaged to send it with his own comments to
+ the Hoppners. People do not hesitate, it seems, to make themselves
+ panders and accomplices to slander, for the Hoppners had exacted from
+ Lord Byron that these accusations should be concealed from _me_: Lord
+ Byron is not a man to keep a secret, good or bad, but in openly
+ confessing that he has not done so he must observe a certain delicacy,
+ and therefore wished to send the letter himself, and, indeed, this
+ adds weight to your representations. Have you seen the article in the
+ _Literary Gazette_ on me? They evidently allude to some story of this
+ kind. However cautious the Hoppners have been in preventing the
+ calumniated person from asserting his justification, you know too much
+ of the world not to be certain that this was the utmost limit of their
+ caution. So much for nothing.
+
+ Lord Byron is immediately coming to Pisa. He will set off the moment I
+ can get him a house. Who would have imagined this?... What think you
+ of remaining at Pisa? The Williams' would probably be induced to stay
+ there if we did; Hunt would certainly stay, at least this winter, near
+ us, should he emigrate at all; Lord Byron and his Italian friends
+ would remain quietly there; and Lord Byron has certainly a very great
+ regard for us. The regard of such a man is worth some of the tribute
+ we must pay to the base passions of humanity in any intercourse with
+ those within their circle; he is better worth it than those on whom we
+ bestow it from mere custom.
+
+ The Masons are there, and, as far as solid affairs are concerned, are
+ my friends. I allow this is an argument for Florence. Mrs. Mason's
+ perversity is very annoying to me, especially as Mr. Tighe is
+ seriously my friend. This circumstance makes me averse from that
+ intimate continuation of intercourse which, once having begun, I can
+ no longer avoid.
+
+ At Pisa I need not distil my water, if I _can_ distil it anywhere.
+ Last winter I suffered less from my painful disorder than the winter I
+ spent in Florence. The arguments for Florence you know, and they are
+ very weighty; judge (_I know you like the job_) which scale is
+ overbalanced. My greatest content would be utterly to desert all human
+ society. I would retire with you and our child to a solitary island in
+ the sea, would build a boat, and shut upon my retreat the flood-gates
+ of the world. I would read no reviews and talk with no authors. If I
+ dared trust my imagination, it would tell me that there are one or two
+ chosen companions besides yourself whom I should desire. But to this I
+ would not listen. Where two or three are gathered together the devil
+ is among them, and good far more than evil impulses, love far more
+ than hatred, has been to me, except as you have been its object, the
+ source of all sorts of mischief. So on this plan I would be _alone_,
+ and would devote either to oblivion or to future generations the
+ overflowings of a mind which, timely withdrawn from the contagion,
+ should be kept fit for no baser object. But this it does not appear
+ that we shall do. The other side of the alternative (for a medium
+ ought not to be adopted) is to form for ourselves a society of our own
+ class, as much as possible, in intellect or in feelings, and to
+ connect ourselves with the interests of that society. Our roots never
+ struck so deeply as at Pisa, and the transplanted tree flourishes not.
+ People who lead the lives which we led until last winter are like a
+ family of Wahabee Arabs pitching their tent in the midst of London. We
+ must do one thing or the other,--for yourself, for our child, for our
+ existence. The calumnies, the sources of which are probably deeper
+ than we perceive, have ultimately for object the depriving us of the
+ means of security and subsistence. You will easily perceive the
+ gradations by which calumny proceeds to pretext, pretext to
+ persecution, and persecution to the ban of fire and water. It is for
+ this, and not because this or that fool, or the whole court of fools,
+ curse and rail, that calumny is worth refuting or chastising.
+
+ P. B. S.
+
+"So much for nothing," indeed. When Byron made himself responsible for
+Mary's letter, it was, probably, without any definite intention of
+withholding it from those to whom it was addressed. He may well have
+wished to add to this glowing denial of his own insinuations some
+palliating personal explanation. When, in the previous March, Clare had
+protested against an Italian convent education for Allegra, he had sent
+her letter to the Hoppners with a sneer at the "excellent grace" with
+which these representations came from a woman of the writer's character
+and present way of life. And yet he knew Shelley,--knew him as the
+Hoppners could not do; he knew what Shelley had done for him, for Clare,
+and Allegra; and to how much slander and misrepresentation he had
+voluntarily submitted that they might go scot-free. Byron was,--and he
+knew it,--the last person who should have accepted or allowed others to
+accept this fresh scandal without proof and without inquiry. He was
+ashamed of the part he had played, and reluctant to confess to the
+Hoppners that he had been wrong, and that his words, as often happened,
+had been far in advance of his knowledge or his solid convictions; but his
+intentions were to do the best he could. And, satisfying himself with good
+intentions, he put off the unwelcome day until the occasion was past, and
+till, finally, the friend whose honour had been entrusted to his keeping
+was beyond his power to help or to harm. Shelley was dead; and how then
+explain to the Hoppners why the letter had not been sent before? It was
+"not worth while," probably, to revive the subject in order to vindicate a
+mere memory, nor yet to remove an unjust and cruel stigma from the
+character of those who survived. However it may have been, one thing is
+undoubted. Mary Shelley never received any answer to her letter of
+protest, which, after Byron's death, was found safe among his papers.
+
+One more note Shelley sent to Mary from Ravenna on the subject of the
+promised portrait. It would not seem that the miniature was actually
+despatched now, but as his return was so long delayed, the birthday plot
+had to be divulged.
+
+ RAVENNA, _Tuesday, 15th August 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAREST LOVE--I accept your kind present of your picture, and wish
+ you would get it prettily framed for me. I will wear, for your sake,
+ upon my heart this image which is ever present to my mind.
+
+ I have only two minutes to write; the post is just setting off. I
+ shall leave the place on Thursday or Friday morning. You would forgive
+ me for my longer stay if you knew the fighting I have had to make it
+ so short. I need not say where my own feelings impel me.
+
+ It still remains fixed that Lord Byron should come to Tuscany, and, if
+ possible, Pisa; but more of that to-morrow.--Your faithful and
+ affectionate
+
+ S.
+
+The foregoing painful episode was enough to fill Mary's mind during the
+fortnight she was alone. It was well for her that she was within easy
+reach of cheerful friends, yet, even as it was, she could not altogether
+escape from bitter thoughts. Clare was at Leghorn, and had to be told of
+everything. Mary could not but think of the relief it would be to them all
+if she were to marry; a remote possibility to which she probably alludes
+in the following letter, written at this time to Miss Curran--
+
+ MARY SHELLEY TO MISS CURRAN.
+
+ SAN GIULIANO, _17th August_.
+
+ MY DEAR MISS CURRAN--It gives me great pain to hear of your
+ ill-health. Will this hot summer conduce to a better state or not? I
+ hope anxiously, when I hear from you again, to learn that you are
+ better, having recovered from your weakness, and that you have no
+ return of your disorder. I should have answered your letter before,
+ but we have been in the confusion of moving. We are now settled in an
+ agreeable house at the Baths of San Giuliano, about four miles from
+ Pisa, under the shadow of mountains, and with delightful scenery
+ within a walk. We go on in our old manner, with no change. I have had
+ many changes for the worse; one might be for the better, but that is
+ nearly impossible. Our child is well and thriving, which is a great
+ comfort, and the Italian sky gives Shelley health, which is to him a
+ rare and substantial enjoyment. I did [not] receive the letter you
+ mention to have written in March, and you also have missed one of our
+ letters in which Shelley acknowledged the receipt of the drawings you
+ mention, and requested that the largest pyramid might be erected if
+ they could case it with white marble for £25. However, the whole had
+ better stand as I mentioned in my last; for, without the most rigorous
+ inspection, great cheating would take place, and no female could
+ detect them. When we visit Rome, we can do that which we wish. Many
+ thanks for your kindness, which has been very great. I would send you
+ on the books I mentioned, but we live out of the world, and I know of
+ no conveyance. Mr. Purniance says that he sent the life of your father
+ by sea to Rome, directed to you; so, doubtless, it is in the
+ custom-house there.
+
+ How enraged all our mighty rulers are at the quiet revolutions which
+ have taken place; it is said that some one said to the Grand Duke
+ here: "Ma richiedono una constituzione qui?" "Ebene, la darò subito"
+ was the reply; but he is not his own master, and Austria would take
+ care that that should not be the case; they say Austrian troops are
+ coming here, and the Tuscan ones will be sent to Germany. We take in
+ _Galignani_, and would send them to you if you liked. I do not know
+ what the expense would be, but I should think slight. If you
+ recommence painting, do not forget Beatrice. I wish very much for a
+ copy of that; you would oblige us greatly by making one. Pray let me
+ hear of your health. God knows when we shall be in Rome;
+ circumstances must direct, and they dance about like
+ will-o'-the-wisps, enticing and then deserting us. We must take care
+ not to be left in a bog. Adieu, take care of yourself. Believe in
+ Shelley's sincere wishes for your health, and in kind remembrances,
+ and in my being ever sincerely yours,
+
+ M. W. SHELLEY.
+
+ Clare desires (not remembrances, if they are not pleasant), however
+ she sends a proper message, and says she would be obliged to you, if
+ you let her have her picture, if you could find a mode of conveying
+ it....
+
+ Do you know we lose many letters, having spies (not Government ones)
+ about us in plenty; they made a desperate push to do us a desperate
+ mischief lately, but succeeded no further than to blacken us among the
+ English; so if you receive a fresh batch (or green bag) of scandal
+ against us, I assure you it is all a _lie_. Poor souls! we live
+ innocently, as you well know; if we did not, ten to one God would take
+ pity on us, and we should not be so unfortunate.
+
+Shelley's absence, though eventful, was, after all, a short one. In about
+a fortnight he was back again at the Bagni, and for a few weeks life was
+quiet.
+
+On the 18th of September Mary records--
+
+ Picnic on the Pugnano Mountains; music in the evening. Sleep there.
+
+On another occasion, wishing to find some tolerably cool seaside place
+where they might spend the next summer, they went,--the Shelleys and
+Clare,--on a two or three days' expedition of discovery to Spezzia, and
+were enchanted with the beauty of the bay. Clare had, shortly after, to
+return to her situation at Florence, but the Shelleys decided to winter at
+Pisa. They took a top flat in the "Tre Palazzi di Chiesa," on the Lung'
+Arno, and spent part of October in furnishing it. They took possession
+about the 25th; the Williams' coming, not many days later, to occupy a
+lower flat in the same house. At Lord Byron's request, the Shelleys had
+taken for him Casa Lanfranchi, the finest palace in the Lung' Arno, just
+opposite the house where they themselves were established. This close
+juxtaposition of abodes was likely to prove somewhat inconvenient, in case
+of Clare's occasional presence at Tre Palazzi. Her first visit, however,
+to which the following characteristic letter refers, was to the Masons at
+Casa Silva, and it came to an end just before Byron's arrival in Pisa.
+Clare had been staying with the Williams' at Pugnano.
+
+ CLARE TO MARY.
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I arrived last night--won't you come and see me to-day?
+ The Williams' wish you to forward them Mr. Webb's answer, if possible,
+ to reach them by 2 o'clock afternoon to-day. If Mr. Webb says yes (you
+ will open his note), send Dominico with it to them, and he passing by
+ the Baths must order Pancani to be at Pugnano by 5 o'clock in the
+ afternoon. If there comes no letter from Mr. Webb, they will equally
+ come to you, and I wish you could also in that case contrive to get
+ Pancani ordered for them, for we forgot to arrange how that could be
+ done; if not, they will be there expecting, and perhaps get involved
+ for the next month. I wish you to be so good as to send me immediately
+ my large box and the clothes from the Busati, indeed all that you have
+ of mine, for I must arrange my boxes to get them _bollate_
+ immediately. Don't delay, and my band-box too. If you could of your
+ great bounty give me a sponge, I should be infinitely obliged to you.
+ Then, when it is dark, and the Williams' arrived, will you ask Mr.
+ Williams to be so good as to come and knock at Casa Silva, and I will
+ return to spend the evening with you? Shelley won't do to fetch me,
+ because he looks singular in the streets. But I wish he would come now
+ to give me some money, as I want to write to Livorno and arrange
+ everything. Later will be inconvenient for me. Kiss the chick for me,
+ and believe me, yours affectionately,
+
+ CLARE.
+
+
+ _Journal._--All October is left out, it seems.--We are at the Baths,
+ occupied with furnishing our house, copying my novel, etc. etc.
+
+Mary's intention was to devote any profits which might proceed from this
+work to the relief of her father's necessities, and the hope of being able
+to help him had stimulated her industry and energy while it eased her
+heart. She aimed at selling the copyright for £400, and Shelley opened
+negotiations to this effect with Ollier the publisher. His letter on the
+subject bears such striking testimony to the estimate he had formed of
+Mary's powers, and gives, besides, so complete a sketch of the novel
+itself, that it cannot be omitted here.
+
+ SHELLEY TO MR. OLLIER.
+
+ PISA, _25th September 1822_.
+
+ DEAR SIR--It will give me great pleasure if I can arrange the affair
+ of Mrs. Shelley's novel with you to her and your satisfaction. She has
+ a specific purpose in the sum which she instructed me to require, and,
+ although this purpose could not be answered without ready money, yet I
+ should find means to answer her wishes in that point if you could make
+ it convenient to pay one-third at Christmas, and give bills for the
+ other two-thirds at twelve and eighteen months. It would give me
+ peculiar satisfaction that you, rather than any other person, should
+ be the publisher of this work; it is the product of no slight labour,
+ and I flatter myself, of no common talent, I doubt not it will give no
+ less credit than it will receive from your names. I trust you know me
+ too well to believe that my judgment deliberately given in testimony
+ of the value of any production is influenced by motives of interest or
+ partiality.
+
+ The romance is called _Castruccio, Prince of Lucca_, and is founded,
+ not upon the novel of Machiavelli under that name, which substitutes a
+ childish fiction for the far more romantic truth of history, but upon
+ the actual story of his life. He was a person who, from an exile and
+ an adventurer, after having served in the wars of England and Flanders
+ in the reign of our Edward the Second, returned to his native city,
+ and liberating it from its tyrants, became himself its tyrant, and
+ died in the full splendour of his dominion, which he had extended over
+ the half of Tuscany. He was a little Napoleon, and with a dukedom
+ instead of an empire for his theatre, brought upon the same all the
+ passions and errors of his antitype. The chief interest of the romance
+ rests upon Euthanasia, his betrothed bride, whose love for him is only
+ equalled by her enthusiasm for the liberty of the Republic of
+ Florence, which is in some sort her country, and for that of Italy, to
+ which Castruccio is a devoted enemy, being an ally of the party of the
+ Emperor. This character is a masterpiece; and the keystone of the
+ drama, which is built up with admirable art, is the conflict between
+ these passions and these principles. Euthanasia, the last survivor of
+ a noble house, is a feudal countess, and her castle is the scene of
+ the exhibition of the knightly manners of the time. The character of
+ Beatrice, the prophetess, can only be done justice to in the very
+ language of the author. I know nothing in Walter Scott's novels which
+ at all approaches to the beauty and the sublimity of this--creation, I
+ may say, for it is perfectly original; and, although founded upon the
+ ideas and manners of the age which is represented, is wholly without
+ a similitude in any fiction I ever read. Beatrice is in love with
+ Castruccio, and dies; for the romance, although interspersed with much
+ lighter matter, is deeply tragic, and the shades darken and gather as
+ the catastrophe approaches. All the manners, customs of the age, are
+ introduced; the superstitions, the heresies, and the religious
+ persecutions are displayed; the minutest circumstance of Italian
+ manners in that age is not omitted; and the whole seems to me to
+ constitute a living and moving picture of an age almost forgotten. The
+ author visited the scenery which she describes in person; and one or
+ two of the inferior characters are drawn from her own observation of
+ the Italians, for the national character shows itself still in certain
+ instances under the same forms as it wore in the time of Dante. The
+ novel consists, as I told you before, of three volumes, each at least
+ equal to one of the _Tales of my Landlord_, and they will be very soon
+ ready to be sent.
+
+No arrangement, however, was come to at this time, and early in January
+Mary wrote to her father, offering the work to him, and asking him, if he
+accepted it, to make a bargain concerning it with a publisher.
+
+Godwin accepted the offer, and undertook the responsibility, in a letter
+from which the following is an extract--
+
+ _31st January 1822._
+
+ I am much gratified by your letter of the 11th, which reached me on
+ Saturday last; it is truly generous of you to desire that I would make
+ use of the produce of your novel. But what can I say to it? It is
+ against the course of nature, unless, indeed, you were actually in
+ possession of a fortune.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ I said in the preface to _Mandeville_ there were two or three works
+ further that I should be glad to finish before I died. If I make use
+ of the money from you in the way you suggest, that may enable me to
+ complete my present work.
+
+The MS. was, accordingly, despatched to England, but was not published
+till many months later.
+
+_Valperga_ (as it was afterwards called) was a book of much power and more
+promise; very remarkable when the author's age is taken into
+consideration. Apart from local colouring, the interest of the tale turns
+on the development of the character--naturally powerful and disposed to
+good, but spoilt by popularity and success, and unguided by principle--of
+Castruccio himself; and on the contrast between him and Euthanasia, the
+noble and beautiful woman who sacrifices her possessions, her hopes, and
+her affections to the cause of fidelity and patriotism.
+
+Beatrice, the prophetess, is one of those gifted but fated souls, who,
+under the persuasion that they are supernaturally inspired, mistake the
+ordinary impulses of human nature for Divine commands, and, finding their
+mistake, yet encourage themselves in what they know to be delusion till
+the end,--a tragic end.
+
+There are some remarkable descriptive passages, especially one where the
+wandering Beatrice comes suddenly upon a house in a dreary landscape which
+she knows, although she has never seen it before except in a haunting
+dream; every detail of it is horribly familiar, and she is paralysed by
+the sense of imminent calamity, which, in fact, bursts upon her directly
+afterwards.
+
+Euthanasia dies at sea, and the account of the running down and wreck of
+her ship is a curious, almost prophetic, foreshadowing of the calamity by
+which, all too soon, Shelley was to lose his life.
+
+ The wind changed to a more northerly direction during the night, and
+ the land-breeze of the morning filled their sails, so that, although
+ slowly, they dropt down southward. About noon they met a Pisan vessel,
+ who bade them beware of a Genoese squadron, which was cruising off
+ Corsica; so they bore in nearer to the shore. At sunset that day a
+ fierce sirocco arose, accompanied by thunder and lightning, such as is
+ seldom seen during the winter season. Presently they saw huge dark
+ columns descending from heaven, and meeting the sea, which boiled
+ beneath; they were borne on by the storm, and scattered by the wind.
+ The rain came down in sheets, and the hail clattered, as it fell to
+ its grave in the ocean; the ocean was lashed into such waves that,
+ many miles inland, during the pauses of the wind, the hoarse and
+ constant murmurs of the far-off sea made the well-housed landsman
+ mutter one more prayer for those exposed to its fury.
+
+ Such was the storm, as it was seen from shore. Nothing more was ever
+ known of the Sicilian vessel which bore Euthanasia. It never reached
+ its destined port, nor were any of those on board ever after seen. The
+ sentinels who watched near Vado, a town on the sea-beach of the
+ Maremma, found on the following day that the waves had washed on shore
+ some of the wrecks of a vessel; they picked up a few planks and a
+ broken mast, round which, tangled with some of its cordage, was a
+ white silk handkerchief, such a one as had bound the tresses of
+ Euthanasia the night that she had embarked; and in its knot were a few
+ golden hairs.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+To follow the fate of Mary's novel, it has been necessary somewhat to
+anticipate the history, which is resumed in the next chapter, with the
+journal and letters of the latter part of 1821.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+NOVEMBER 1821-APRIL 1822
+
+
+ _Journal, Thursday, November 1._--Go to Florence. Copy. Ride with the
+ Guiccioli. Albé arrives.
+
+ _Sunday, November 4._--The Williams' arrive. Copy. Call on the
+ Guiccioli.
+
+ _Thursday, November 15._--Copy. Read _Caleb Williams_ to Jane. Ride
+ with the Guiccioli. Shelley goes on translating Spinoza with Edward.
+ Medwin arrives. Taafe calls. Argyropulo calls. Good news from the
+ Greeks.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 28._--Ride with the Guiccioli. Suffer much with
+ rheumatism in my head.
+
+ _Wednesday, November 29._--I mark this day because I begin my Greek
+ again, and that is a study that ever delights me. I do not feel the
+ bore of it, as in learning another language, although it be so
+ difficult, it so richly repays one; yet I read little, for I am not
+ well. Shelley and the Williams go to Leghorn; they dine with us
+ afterwards with Medwin. Write to Clare.
+
+ _Thursday, November 30._--Correct the novel. Read a little Greek. Not
+ well. Ride with the Guiccioli. The Count Pietro (Gamba) in the
+ evening.
+
+
+ MRS. SHELLEY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ PISA, _30th November 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Although having much to do be a bad excuse for
+ not writing to you, yet you must in some sort admit this plea on my
+ part. Here we are in Pisa, having furnished very nice apartments for
+ ourselves, and what is more, paid for the furniture out of the fruits
+ of two years' economy, we are at the top of the Tre Palazzi di Chiesa.
+ I daresay you know the house, next door to La Scoto's house on the
+ north side of Lung' Arno; but the rooms we inhabit are south, and look
+ over the whole country towards the sea, so that we are entirely out of
+ the bustle and disagreeable _puzzi_, etc., of the town, and hardly
+ know that we are so enveloped until we descend into the street. The
+ Williams' have been less lucky, though they have followed our example
+ in furnishing their own house, but, renting it of Mr. Webb, they have
+ been treated scurvily. So here we live, Lord Byron just opposite to us
+ in Casa Lanfranchi (the late Signora Felichi's house). So Pisa, you
+ see, has become a little nest of singing birds. You will be both
+ surprised and delighted at the work just about to be published by him;
+ his _Cain_, which is in the highest style of imaginative poetry. It
+ made a great impression upon me, and appears almost a revelation, from
+ its power and beauty. Shelley rides with him; I, of course, see little
+ of him. The lady _whom he serves_ is a nice pretty girl without
+ pretensions, good hearted and amiable; her relations were banished
+ Romagna for Carbonarism.
+
+ What do you know of Hunt? About two months ago he wrote to say that on
+ 21st October he should quit England, and we have heard nothing more of
+ him in any way; I expect some day he and six children will drop in
+ from the clouds, trusting that God will temper the wind to the shorn
+ lamb. Pray when you write, tell us everything you know concerning him.
+ Do you get any intelligence of the Greeks? Our worthy countrymen take
+ part against them in every possible way, yet such is the spirit of
+ freedom, and such the hatred of these poor people for their
+ oppressors, that I have the warmest hopes--[Greek: mantis eim' esthlôn
+ agônôn]. Mavrocordato is there, justly revered for the sacrifice he
+ has made of his whole fortune to the cause, and besides for his
+ firmness and talents. If Greece be free, Shelley and I have vowed to
+ go, perhaps to settle there, in one of those beautiful islands where
+ earth, ocean, and sky form the paradise. You will, I hope, tell us all
+ the news of our friends when you write. I see no one that you know. We
+ live in our usual retired way, with few friends and no acquaintances.
+ Clare is returned to her usual residence, and our tranquillity is
+ unbroken in upon, except by those winds, sirocco or tramontana, which
+ now and then will sweep over the ocean of one's mind and disturb or
+ cloud its surface. Since this must be a double letter, I save myself
+ the trouble of copying the enclosed, which was a part of a letter
+ written to you a month ago, but which I did not send. Will you attend
+ to my requests? Every day increases my anxiety concerning the desk. Do
+ have the goodness to pack it off as soon as you can.
+
+ Shelley was at your hive yesterday; it is as dirty and busy as ever,
+ so people live in the same narrow circle of space and thought, while
+ time goes on, not as a racehorse, but a "six inside dilly," and puts
+ them down softly at their journey's end; while they have slept and
+ ate, and _ecco tutto_. With this piece of morality, dear Mrs.
+ Gisborne, I end. Shelley begs every remembrance of his to be joined
+ with mine to Mr. Gisborne and Henry.--Ever yours,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+ And now, my dear Mrs. Gisborne, I have a great favour to ask of you.
+ Ollier writes to say that he has placed our two desks in the hands of
+ a merchant of the city, and that they are to come--God knows when!
+ Now, as we sent for them two years ago, and are tired of waiting, will
+ you do us the favour to get them out of his hands, and to send them
+ without delay? If they can be sent without being opened, send them _in
+ statu quo_; if they must be opened, do not send the smallest but get a
+ key (being a patent lock a key will cost half a guinea) made for the
+ largest and send it, and return the other to Peacock. If you send the
+ desk, will you send with it the following things?--A few copies of all
+ Shelley's works, particularly of the second edition of the _Cenci_, my
+ mother's posthumous works, and _Letters from Norway_ from Peacock, if
+ you can, but do not delay the box for them.
+
+
+ _Journal, Sunday, December 2._--Read the _History of Shipwrecks_. Read
+ Herodotus with Shelley. Ride with La Guiccioli. Pietro and her in the
+ evening.
+
+ _Monday, December 3._--Write letters. Read Herodotus with Shelley.
+ Finish _Caleb Williams_ to Jane. Taafe calls. He says that his Turk is
+ a very moral man, for that when he began a scandalous story he
+ interrupted him immediately, saying, "Ah! we must never speak thus of
+ our neighbours!" Taafe would do well to take the hint.
+
+ _Thursday, December 6._--Read Homer. Walk with Williams. Spend the
+ evening with them. Call on T. Guiccioli with Jane, while Taafe amuses
+ Shelley and Edward. Read Tacitus. A dismal day.
+
+ _Friday, December 7._--Letter from Hunt and Bessy. Walk with Shelley.
+ Buy furniture for them, etc. Walk with Edward and Jane to the garden,
+ and return with T. Guiccioli in the carriage. Edward reads the
+ _Shipwreck of the Wager_ to us in the evening.
+
+ _Saturday, December 8._--Get up late and talk with Shelley. The
+ Williams and Medwin to dinner. Walk with Edward and Jane in the
+ garden. Return with T. Guiccioli. T. G. and Pietro in the evening.
+ Write to Clare. Read Tacitus.
+
+ _Sunday, December 9._--Go to church at Dr. Nott's. Walk with Edward
+ and Jane in the garden. In the evening first Pietro and Teresa,
+ afterwards go to the Williams'.
+
+ _Monday, December 10._--Out shopping. Walk with the Williams and T.
+ Guiccioli to the garden. Medwin at tea. Afterwards we are alone, and
+ after reading a little Herodotus, Shelley reads Chaucer's _Flower and
+ the Leaf_, and then Chaucer's _Dream_ to me. A divine, cold,
+ tramontana day.
+
+ _Monday, January 14._--Read _Emile_. Call on T. Guiccioli and see Lord
+ Byron. Trelawny arrives.
+
+Edward John Trelawny, whose subsequent history was to be closely bound up
+with that of Shelley and of Mrs. Shelley, was of good Cornish family, and
+had led a wandering life, full of romantic adventure. He had become
+acquainted with Williams and Medwin in Switzerland a year before, since
+which he had been in Paris and London. Tired of a town life and of
+society, and in order to "maintain the just equilibrium between the body
+and the brain," he had determined to pass the next winter hunting and
+shooting in the wilds of the Maremma, with a Captain Roberts and
+Lieutenant Williams. For the exercise of his brain, he proposed passing
+the summer with Shelley and Byron, boating in the Mediterranean, as he had
+heard that they proposed doing. Neither of the poets were as yet
+personally known to him, but he had lost no time in seeking their
+acquaintance. On the very evening of his arrival in Pisa he repaired to
+the Tre Palazzi, where, in the Williams' room, he first saw Shelley, and
+was struck speechless with astonishment.
+
+ Was it possible this mild-looking beardless boy could be the veritable
+ monster at war with all the world? Excommunicated by the Fathers of
+ the Church, deprived of his civil rights by the fiat of a grim Lord
+ Chancellor, discarded by every member of his family, and denounced by
+ the rival sages of our literature as the founder of a Satanic school?
+ I could not believe it; it must be a hoax.
+
+But presently, when Shelley was led to talk on a theme that interested
+him--the works of Calderon,--his marvellous powers of mind and command of
+language held Trelawny spell-bound: "After this touch of his quality," he
+says, "I no longer doubted his identity."
+
+Mrs. Shelley appeared soon after, and the visitor looked with lively
+curiosity at the daughter of William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft.
+
+ Such a rare pedigree of genius was enough to interest me in her,
+ irrespective of her own merits as an authoress. The most striking
+ feature in her face was her calm, gray eyes; she was rather under the
+ English standard of woman's height, very fair and light-haired; witty,
+ social, and animated in the society of friends, though mournful in
+ solitude; like Shelley, though in a minor degree, she had the power of
+ expressing her thoughts in varied and appropriate words, derived from
+ familiarity with the works of our vigorous old writers. Neither of
+ them used obsolete or foreign words. This command of our language
+ struck me the more as contrasted with the scanty vocabulary used by
+ ladies in society, in which a score of poor hackneyed phrases suffice
+ to express all that is felt or considered proper to reveal.[45]
+
+Mary's impressions of the new-comer may be gathered from her journal and
+her subsequent letter to Mrs. Gisborne.
+
+ _Journal, Saturday, January 19._--Copy. Walk with Jane. The Opera in
+ the evening. Trelawny is extravagant--_un giovane
+ stravagante_,--partly natural, and partly, perhaps, put on, but it
+ suits him well, and if his abrupt but not unpolished manners be
+ assumed, they are nevertheless in unison with his Moorish face (for he
+ looks Oriental yet not Asiatic), his dark hair, his Herculean form;
+ and then there is an air of extreme good nature which pervades his
+ whole countenance, especially when he smiles, which assures me that
+ his heart is good. He tells strange stories of himself, horrific ones,
+ so that they harrow one up, while with his emphatic but unmodulated
+ voice, his simple yet strong language, he pourtrays the most
+ frightful situations; then all these adventures took place between the
+ ages of thirteen and twenty.
+
+ I believe them now I see the man, and, tired with the everyday
+ sleepiness of human intercourse, I am glad to meet with one who, among
+ other valuable qualities, has the rare merit of interesting my
+ imagination. The _crew_ and Medwin dine with us.
+
+ _Sunday, January 27._--Read Homer. Walk. Dine at the Williams'. The
+ Opera in the evening. Ride with T. Guiccioli.
+
+ _Monday, January 28._--The Williams breakfast with us. Go down Bocca
+ d'Arno in the boat with Shelley and Jane. Edward and E. Trelawny meet
+ us there; return in the gig; they dine with us; very tired.
+
+ _Tuesday, January 29._--Read Homer and Tacitus. Ride with T.
+ Guiccioli. E. Trelawny and Medwin to dinner. The Baron Lutzerode in
+ the evening.
+
+ But as the torrent widens towards the ocean,
+ We ponder deeply on each past emotion.
+
+ Read the first volume of the _Pirate_.
+
+ _Sunday, February 3._--Read Homer. Walk to the garden with Jane.
+ Return with Medwin to dinner. Trelawny in the evening. A wild day and
+ night, some clouds in the sky in the morning, but they clear away. A
+ north wind.
+
+ _Monday, February 4._--Breakfast with the Williams'. Edward, Jane, and
+ Trelawny go to Leghorn. Walk with Jane. Southey's letter concerning
+ Lord Byron. Write to Clare. In the evening the Gambas and Taafe.
+
+ _Thursday, February 7._--Read Homer, Tacitus, and _Emile_. Shelley and
+ Edward depart for La Spezzia. Walk with Jane, and to the Opera with
+ her in the evening. With E. Trelawny afterwards to Mrs. Beauclerc's
+ ball. During a long, long evening in mixed society how often do one's
+ sensations change, and, swiftly as the west wind drives the shadows of
+ clouds across the sunny hill or the waving corn, so swift do
+ sensations pass, painting--yet, oh! not disfiguring--the serenity of
+ the mind. It is then that life seems to weigh itself, and hosts of
+ memories and imaginations, thrown into one scale, make the other kick
+ the beam. You remember what you have felt, what you have dreamt; yet
+ you dwell on the shadowy side, and lost hopes and death, such as you
+ have seen it, seem to cover all things with a funeral pall.
+
+ The time that was, is, and will be, presses upon you, and, standing
+ the centre of a moving circle, you "slide giddily as the world reels."
+ You look to heaven, and would demand of the everlasting stars that the
+ thoughts and passions which are your life may be as ever-living as
+ they. You would demand of the blue empyrean that your mind might be as
+ clear as it, and that the tears which gather in your eyes might be the
+ shower that would drain from its profoundest depths the springs of
+ weakness and sorrow. But where are the stars? Where the blue empyrean?
+ A ceiling clouds that, and a thousand swift consuming lights supply
+ the place of the eternal ones of heaven. The enthusiast suppresses her
+ tears, crushes her opening thoughts, and.... But all is changed; some
+ word, some look excite the lagging blood, laughter dances in the eyes,
+ and the spirits rise proportionably high.
+
+ The Queen is all for revels, her light heart,
+ Unladen from the heaviness of state,
+ Bestows itself upon delightfulness.
+
+ _Friday, February 8._--Sometimes I awaken from my visionary monotony,
+ and my thoughts flow until, as it is exquisite pain to stop the
+ flowing of the blood, so is it painful to check expression and make
+ the overflowing mind return to its usual channel. I feel a kind of
+ tenderness to those, whoever they may be (even though strangers), who
+ awaken the train and touch a chord so full of harmony and thrilling
+ music, when I would tear the veil from this strange world, and pierce
+ with eagle eyes beyond the sun; when every idea, strange and
+ changeful, is another step in the ladder by which I would climb....
+
+ Read _Emile_. Jane dines with me, walk with her. E. Trelawny and Jane
+ in the evening. Trelawny tells us a number of amusing stories of his
+ early life. Read third canto of _L'Inferno_.
+
+ They say that Providence is shown by the extraction that may be ever
+ made of good from evil, that we draw our virtues from our faults. So I
+ am to thank God for making me weak. I might say, "Thy will be done,"
+ but I cannot applaud the permitter of self-degradation, though dignity
+ and superior wisdom arise from its bitter and burning ashes.
+
+ _Saturday, February 9._--Read _Emile_. Walk with Jane, and ride with
+ T. Guiccioli. Dine with Jane. Taafe and T. Medwin call. I retire with
+ E. Trelawny, who amuses me as usual by the endless variety of his
+ adventures and conversation.
+
+
+ MARY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ PISA, _9th February 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Not having heard from you, I am anxious about
+ my desk. It would have been a great convenience to me if I could have
+ received it at the beginning of the winter, but now I should like it
+ as soon as possible. I hope that it is out of Ollier's hands. I have
+ before said what I would have done with it. If both desks can be sent
+ without being opened, let them be sent; if not, give the small one
+ back to Peacock. Get a key made for the larger, and send it, I entreat
+ you, by the very next vessel. This key will cost half a guinea, and
+ Ollier will not give you the money, but give me credit for it, I
+ entreat you. I pray now let me have the desk as soon as possible.
+ Shelley is now gone to Spezzia to get houses for our colony for the
+ summer.
+
+ It will be a large one, too large, I am afraid, for unity; yet I hope
+ not. There will be Lord Byron, who will have a large and beautiful
+ boat built on purpose by some English navy officers at Genoa. There
+ will be the Countess Guiccioli and her brother; the Williams', whom
+ you know; Trelawny, a kind of half-Arab Englishman, whose life has
+ been as changeful as that of Anastasius, and who recounts the
+ adventures as eloquently and as well as the imagined Greek. He is
+ clever; for his moral qualities I am yet in the dark; he is a strange
+ web which I am endeavouring to unravel. I would fain learn if
+ generosity is united to impetuousness, probity of spirit to his
+ assumption of singularity and independence. He is 6 feet high, raven
+ black hair, which curls thickly and shortly, like a Moor's, dark gray
+ expressive eyes, overhanging brows, upturned lips, and a smile which
+ expresses good nature and kindheartedness. His shoulders are high,
+ like an Oriental's, his voice is monotonous, yet emphatic, and his
+ language, as he relates the events of his life, energetic and simple,
+ whether the tale be one of blood and horror, or of irresistible
+ comedy. His company is delightful, for he excites me to think, and if
+ any evil shade the intercourse, that time will unveil--the sun will
+ rise or night darken all. There will be, besides, a Captain Roberts,
+ whom I do not know, a very rough subject, I fancy,--a famous angler,
+ etc. We are to have a small boat, and now that those first divine
+ spring days are come (you know them well), the sky clear, the sun hot,
+ the hedges budding, we sitting without a fire and the windows open, I
+ begin to long for the sparkling waves, the olive-coloured hills and
+ vine-shaded pergolas of Spezzia. However, it would be madness to go
+ yet. Yet as _ceppo_ was bad, we hope for a good _pasqua_, and if April
+ prove fine, we shall fly with the swallows. The Opera here has been
+ detestable. The English Sinclair is the _primo tenore_, and acquits
+ himself excellently, but the Italians, after the first, have enviously
+ selected such operas as give him little or nothing to do. We have
+ English here, and some English balls and parties, to which I
+ (_mirabile dictu_) go sometimes. We have Taafe, who bores us out of
+ our senses when he comes, telling a young lady that her eyes shed
+ flowers--why therefore should he send her any? I have sent my novel to
+ Papa. I long to hear some news of it, as, with an author's vanity, I
+ want to see it in print, and hear the praises of my friends. I should
+ like, as I said when you went away, a copy of _Matilda_. It might come
+ out with the desk. I hope as the town fills to hear better news of
+ your plans, we long to hear from you. What does Henry do? How many
+ times has he been in love?--Ever yours,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+ Shelley would like to see the review of the _Prometheus_ in the
+ _Quarterly_.
+
+
+ _Thursday, February 14._--Read Homer and _Anastasius_. Walk with the
+ Williams' in the evening.... "Nothing of us but what must suffer a
+ sea-change."
+
+This entry marks the day to which Mary referred in a letter written more
+than a year later, where she says--
+
+ A year ago Trelawny came one afternoon in high spirits with news
+ concerning the building of the boat, saying, "Oh! we must all embark,
+ all live aboard; we will all 'suffer a sea-change.'" And dearest
+ Shelley was delighted with the quotation, saying that he would have it
+ for the motto for his boat.
+
+Little did they think, in their lightness of spirit, that in another year
+the motto of the boat would serve for the inscription on Shelley's tomb.
+
+ _Journal, Monday, February 18._--Read Homer. Walk with the Williams'.
+ Jane, Trelawny, and Medwin in the evening.[46]
+
+ _Monday, February 25._--What a mart this world is? Feelings,
+ sentiments,--more invaluable than gold or precious stones is the coin,
+ and what is bought? Contempt, discontent, and disappointment, unless,
+ indeed, the mind be loaded with drearier memories. And what say the
+ worldly to this? Use Spartan coin, pay away iron and lead alone, and
+ store up your precious metal. But alas! from nothing, nothing comes,
+ or, as all things seem to degenerate, give lead and you will receive
+ clay,--the most contemptible of all lives is where you live in the
+ world, and none of your passions or affections are brought into
+ action. I am convinced I could not live thus, and as Sterne says that
+ in solitude he would worship a tree, so in the world I should attach
+ myself to those who bore the semblance of those qualities which I
+ admire. But it is not this that I want; let me love the trees, the
+ skies, and the ocean, and that all-encompassing spirit of which I may
+ soon become a part,--let me in my fellow-creature love that which is,
+ and not fix my affection on a fair form endued with imaginary
+ attributes; where goodness, kindness, and talent are, let me love and
+ admire them at their just rate, neither adorning nor diminishing, and
+ above all, let me fearlessly descend into the remotest caverns of my
+ own mind; carry the torch of self-knowledge into its dimmest recesses;
+ but too happy if I dislodge any evil spirit, or enshrine a new deity
+ in some hitherto uninhabited nook.
+
+ Read _Wrongs of Women_ and Homer. Clare departs. Walk with Jane and
+ ride with T. Guiccioli. T. G. dines with us.
+
+ _Thursday, February 28._--Take leave of the Argyropolis. Walk with
+ Shelley. Ride with T. Guiccioli. Read letters. Spend the evening at
+ the Williams'. Trelawny there.
+
+ _Friday, March 1._--An embassy. Walk. My first Greek lesson. Walk with
+ Edward. In the evening work.
+
+ _Sunday, March 3._--A note to, and a visit from, Dr. Nott. Go to
+ church. Walk. The Williams' and Trelawny to dinner.
+
+Mary's experiments in the way of church-going, so new a thing in her
+experience, and so little in accordance with Shelley's habits of thought
+and action, excited some surprise and comment. Hogg, Shelley's early
+friend, who heard of it from Mrs. Gisborne, now in England, was
+especially shocked. In a letter to Mary, Mrs. Gisborne remarked, "Your
+friend Hogg is _molto scandalizzato_ to hear of your weekly visits to the
+_piano di sotto_" (the services were held on the ground floor of the Tre
+Palazzi).
+
+The same letter asks for news of Emilia Viviani. Mrs. Gisborne had heard
+that she was married, and feared she had been sacrificed to a man whom she
+describes as "that insipid, sickening Italian mortal, Danieli the lawyer."
+She proceeds to say--
+
+ We invited Varley one evening to meet Hogg, who was curious to see a
+ man really believing in astrology in the nineteenth century. Varley,
+ as usual, was not sparing of his predictions. We talked of Shelley
+ without mentioning his name; Varley was curious, and being informed by
+ Hogg of his exact age, but describing his person as short and
+ corpulent, and himself as a _bon vivant_, Varley amused us with the
+ following remarks: "Your friend suffered from ill-fortune in May or
+ June 1815. Vexatious affairs on the 2d and 14th of June, or perhaps
+ latter end of May 1820. The following year, disturbance about a lady.
+ Again, last April, at 10 at night, or at noon, disturbance about a
+ bouncing stout lady, and others. At six years of age, noticed by
+ ladies and gentlemen for learning. In July 1799, beginning of charges
+ made against him. In September 1800, at noon, or dusk, very violent
+ charges. Scrape at fourteen years of age. Eternal warfare against
+ parents and public opinion, and a great blow-up every seven years till
+ death," etc. etc. _Is all this true?_
+
+Not a little amused, Mary answered her friend as follows--
+
+ PISA, _7th March 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--I am very sorry that you have so much trouble
+ with my commissions, and vainly, too! _ma che vuole?_ Ollier will not
+ give you the money, and we are, to tell you the truth, too poor at
+ present to send you a cheque upon our banker; two or three
+ circumstances having caused
+
+ That climax of all human ills,
+ The inflammation of our weekly bills.
+
+ But far more than that, we have not touched a quattrino of our
+ Christmas quarter, since debts in England and other calls swallowed it
+ entirely up. For the present, therefore, we must dispense with those
+ things I asked you for. As for the desk, we received last post from
+ Ollier (without a line) the bill of lading that he talks of, and, _si
+ Dio vuole_, we shall receive it safe; the vessel in which they were
+ shipped is not yet arrived. The worst of keeping on with Ollier
+ (though it is the best, I believe, after all) is that you will never
+ be able to make anything of his accounts, until you can compare the
+ number of copies in hand with his account of their sale. As for my
+ novel, I shipped it off long ago to my father, telling him to make the
+ best of it; and by the way in which he answered my letter, I fancy he
+ thinks he can make something of it. This is much better than Ollier,
+ for I should never have got a penny from him; and, moreover, he is a
+ very bad bookseller to publish with--_ma basta poi_, with all these
+ _seccaturas_.
+
+ Poor dear Hunt, you will have heard by this time of the disastrous
+ conclusion of his third embarkment; he is to try a third time in
+ April, and if he does not succeed then, we must say that the sea is
+ _un vero precipizio_, and let him try land. By the bye, why not
+ consult Varley on the result? I have tried the _Sors Homeri_ and the
+ _Sors Virgilii_; the first says (I will write this Greek better, but I
+ thought that Mr. Gisborne could read the Romaic writing, and I now
+ quite forget what it was)--
+
+ [Greek: Êlômên, teiôs moi adelpheon allos epephnen.
+ hôs d'opot' Iasiôni euplokamos Dêmêtêr.
+ Dourateon megan hippon, hoth' heiato pantes aristoi.]
+
+ Which first seems to say that he will come, though his brother may be
+ prosecuted for a libel. Of the second, I can make neither head nor
+ tail; and the third is as oracularly obscure as one could wish, for
+ who these great people are who sat in a wooden horse, _chi lo sa_?
+ Virgil, except the first line, which is unfavourable, is as
+ enigmatical as Homer--
+
+ Fulgores nunc horrificos, sonitumque, metumque
+ Tum leves calamos, et rasæ hastilia virgæ
+ Connexosque angues, ipsamque in pectore divæ.
+
+ But to speak of predictions or anteductions, some of Varley's are
+ curious enough: "Ill-fortune in May or June 1815." No; it was then
+ that he arranged his income; there was no ill except health, _al
+ solito_, at that time. The particular days of the 2d and 14th of June
+ 1820 were not ill, but the whole time was disastrous. It was then we
+ were alarmed by Paolo's attack and disturbance. About a lady in the
+ winter of last year, enough, God knows! Nothing particular about a fat
+ bouncing lady at 10 at night: and indeed things got more quiet in
+ April. In July 1799 Shelley was only seven years of age. "A great
+ blow-up every seven years." Shelley is not at home; when he returns I
+ will ask him what happened when he was fourteen. In his twenty-second
+ year we made our _scappatura_; at twenty-eight and twenty-nine, a good
+ deal of discomfort on a certain point, but it hardly amounted to a
+ blow-up. Pray ask Varley also about me.
+
+ So Hogg is shocked that, for good neighbourhood's sake, I visited the
+ _piano di sotto_; let him reassure himself, since instead of a weekly,
+ it was only a monthly visit; in fact, after going three times I stayed
+ away until I heard he was going away. He preached against atheism,
+ and, they said, against Shelley. As he invited me himself to come,
+ this appeared to me very impertinent; so I wrote to him, to ask him
+ whether he intended any personal allusion, but he denied the charge
+ most entirely. This affair, as you may guess, among the English at
+ Pisa made a great noise; the gossip here is of course out of all
+ bounds, and some people have given them something to talk about. I
+ have seen little of it all; but that which I have seen makes me long
+ most eagerly for some sea-girt isle, where with Shelley, my babe, and
+ books and horses, we may give the rest to the winds; this we shall not
+ have for the present. Shelley is entangled with Lord Byron, who is in
+ a terrible fright lest he should desert him. We shall have boats, and
+ go somewhere on the sea-coast, where, I daresay, we shall spend our
+ time agreeably enough, for I like the Williams' exceedingly, though
+ there my list begins and ends.
+
+ Emilia married Biondi; we hear that she leads him and his mother (to
+ use a vulgarism) a devil of a life. The conclusion of our friendship
+ (_a la Italiana_) puts me in mind of a nursery rhyme, which runs
+ thus--
+
+ As I was going down Cranbourne lane,
+ Cranbourne lane was dirty,
+ And there I met a pretty maid,
+ Who dropt to me a curtsey;
+
+ I gave her cakes, I gave her wine,
+ I gave her sugar-candy,
+ But oh! the little naughty girl,
+ She asked me for some brandy.
+
+ Now turn "Cranbourne Lane" into Pisan acquaintances, which I am sure
+ are dirty enough, and "brandy" into that wherewithal to buy brandy
+ (and that no small sum _però_), and you have the whole story of
+ Shelley's Italian Platonics. We now know, indeed, few of those whom we
+ knew last year. Pacchiani is at Prato; Mavrocordato in Greece; the
+ Argyropolis in Florence; and so the world slides. Taafe is still
+ here--the butt of Lord Byron's quizzing, and the poet laureate of
+ Pisa. On the occasion of a young lady's birthday he wrote--
+
+ Eyes that shed a thousand flowers!
+ Why should flowers be sent to you?
+ Sweetest flowers of heavenly bowers,
+ Love and friendship, are what are due.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ After some divine _Italian_ weather, we are now enjoying some fine
+ English weather; _cioè_, it does not rain, but not a ray can pierce
+ the web aloft.--Most truly yours,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+
+ MARY SHELLEY TO MRS. HUNT.
+
+ _5th March 1822._
+
+ MY DEAREST MARIANNE--I hope that this letter will find you quite well,
+ recovering from your severe attack, and looking towards your haven
+ Italy with best hopes. I do indeed believe that you will find a relief
+ here from your many English cares, and that the winds which waft you
+ will sing the requiem to all your ills. It was indeed unfortunate that
+ you encountered such weather on the very threshold of your journey,
+ and as the wind howled through the long night, how often did I think
+ of you! At length it seemed as if we should never, never meet; but I
+ will not give way to such a presentiment. We enjoy here divine
+ weather. The sun hot, too hot, with a freshness and clearness in the
+ breeze that bears with it all the delights of spring. The hedges are
+ budding, and you should see me and my friend Mrs. Williams poking
+ about for violets by the sides of dry ditches; she being herself--
+
+ A violet by a mossy stone
+ Half hidden from the eye.
+
+ Yesterday a countryman seeing our dilemma, since the ditch was not
+ quite dry, insisted on gathering them for us, and when we resisted,
+ saying that we had no _quattrini_ (_i.e._ farthings, being the generic
+ name for all money), he indignantly exclaimed, _Oh! se lo faccio per
+ interesse!_ How I wish you were with us in our rambles! Our good
+ cavaliers flock together, and as they do not like _fetching a walk
+ with the absurd womankind_, Jane (_i.e._ Mrs. Williams) and I are off
+ together, and talk morality and pluck violets by the way. I look
+ forward to many duets with this lady and Hunt. She has a very pretty
+ voice, and a taste and ear for music which is almost miraculous. The
+ harp is her favourite instrument; but we have none, and a very bad
+ piano; however, as it is, we pass very pleasant evenings, though I can
+ hardly bear to hear her sing "Donne l'amore"; it transports me so
+ entirely back to your little parlour at Hampstead--and I see the
+ piano, the bookcase, the prints, the casts--and hear Mary's
+ _far-ha-ha-a_!
+
+ We are in great uncertainty as to where we shall spend the summer.
+ There is a beautiful bay about fifty miles off, and as we have
+ resolved on the sea, Shelley bought a boat. We wished very much to go
+ there; perhaps we shall still, but as yet we can find but one house;
+ but as we are a colony "which moves altogether or not at all," we have
+ not yet made up our minds. The apartments which we have prepared for
+ you in Lord Byron's house will be very warm for the summer; and indeed
+ for the two hottest months I should think that you had better go into
+ the country. Villas about here are tolerably cheap, and they are
+ perfect paradises. Perhaps, as it was with me, Italy will not strike
+ you as so divine at first; but each day it becomes dearer and more
+ delightful; the sun, the flowers, the air, all is more sweet and more
+ balmy than in the _Ultima Thule_ that you inhabit.
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+The journal for the next few weeks has nothing eventful to record. The
+preceding letter to Mrs. Hunt gives a simple and pleasing picture of their
+daily life. Perhaps Mary had never been quite so happy before; she wrote
+to the Hunts that she thought she grew younger. Both she and Shelley were
+occasionally ailing, and Shelley's letters show that his spirits suffered
+depression at times, still, in this respect as well as in health, he was
+better than he had been in any former spring. The proximity of Byron and
+his circle was not, however, favourable to inspiration or to literary
+composition. Byron's temperament acted as a damper to enthusiasm in
+others, and Shelley, though his estimate of Byron's genius was very high,
+was perpetually jarred and crossed by his worldliness and his moral
+shallowness and vulgarity. He invariably, acted, however, as Byron's true
+and disinterested friend; and Byron was fully aware of the value of his
+friendship and of his literary help and criticism.
+
+Trelawny, to whom Byron had taken kindly enough, estimated the difference
+in the moral worth of the two poets with singular justice.
+
+ "I believed in many things then, and believe in some now," he wrote,
+ more than five and thirty years afterwards: "I could not sympathise
+ with Byron, who believed in nothing."
+
+His friendship for Byron, nevertheless, was to be loyal and lasting. But
+his favourite resort in these Pisan days was the "hospitable and cheerful
+abode of the Shelleys."
+
+ "There," he says, "I found those sympathies and sentiments which the
+ Pilgrim denounced as illusions, believed in as the only realities."
+
+At Byron's social gatherings--riding-parties or dinner-parties--he made a
+point of getting Shelley if he could; and Shelley was very compliant,
+although the society of which Byron was the nucleus was neither congenial
+nor interesting to him, and he always took the first good opportunity of
+escaping. Daily intercourse of this kind tended gradually to estrange
+rather than unite the two poets: by accentuating differences it brought
+into evidence that gulf between their natures which, in spite of the one
+touch of kinship that certainly existed, was equally impassable by one and
+by the other. Besides, the subject of Clare and Allegra, never far below
+the surface, would occasionally come up, and this was a sore point on both
+sides. As has already been said, Byron appreciated Shelley, though he did
+not sympathise with him. In after days he bore public testimony to the
+purity and unselfishness of Shelley's character and to the upright and
+disinterested motives which actuated him in all he did. But his respect
+for Shelley was not so strong as his antipathy to Clare, and Shelley's
+feeling towards her was regarded by him with a cynical sneer which he had
+no care to hide, and of which its object could not always be unconscious.
+It is not wonderful that at times there swept across Shelley's mind, like
+a black cloud, the conviction that neither a sense of honour nor justice
+restrained Byron from the basest insinuations. And then again this
+suspicion would pass away as too dreadful to be entertained.
+
+Meanwhile Clare, in the pursuit of her newly-adopted profession, was
+thinking of going to Vienna, and she longed for a sight of her child
+first. She had been unusually long, or she fancied so, without news of
+Allegra, and she was growing desperately anxious,--with only too good
+cause, as the event showed. She wrote to Byron, entreating him to arrange
+for a visit or an interview. Byron took no notice of her letters. The
+Shelleys dared not annoy him unnecessarily on the subject, as he had been
+heard to threaten if they did so to immure Allegra in some secret convent
+where no one could get at her or even hear of her. Clare, working herself
+up into a state of half-frenzied excitement, sent them letter after
+letter, suggesting and urging wild plans (which Shelley was to realise)
+for carrying off the child by armed force; indeed, one of her schemes
+seems to have been to take advantage of the projected interview, if
+granted, for putting this design into execution. Some such proposed breach
+of faith must have been the occasion of Shelley's answering her--
+
+ I know not what to think of the state of your mind, or what to fear
+ for you. Your late plan about Allegra seems to me in its present form
+ pregnant with irremediable infamy to all the actors in it except
+ yourself.
+
+He did not think that in her present excited mental condition she was fit
+to go to Vienna, and he entreated her to postpone the idea. His advice,
+often repeated in different words, was, that she should not lose herself
+in distant and uncertain plans, but "systematise and simplify" her
+motions, at least for the present, and, if she felt in the least disposed,
+that she should come and stay with them--
+
+ If you like, come and look for houses with me in our boat; it might
+ distract your mind.
+
+He and Mary had resolved to quit Pisa as soon as the weather made it
+desirable to do so; but their plans and their anxieties were alike
+suspended by a temporary excitement of which Mary's account is given in
+the following letter--
+
+ MRS. SHELLEY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ PISA, _6th April 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Not many days after I had written to you
+ concerning the fate which ever pursues us at spring-tide, a
+ circumstance happened which showed that we were not forgotten this
+ year. Although, indeed, now that it is all over, I begin to fear that
+ the King of Gods and men will not consider it a sufficiently heavy
+ visitation, although for a time it threatened to be frightful enough.
+ Two Sundays ago, Lord Byron, Shelley, Trelawny, Captain Hay, Count
+ Gamba, and Taafe were returning from their usual evening ride, when,
+ near the Porta della Piazza, they were passed by a soldier who
+ galloped through the midst of them knocking up against Taafe. This
+ nice little gentleman exclaimed, "Shall we endure this man's
+ insolence?" Lord Byron replied, "No! we will bring him to an account,"
+ and Shelley (whose blood always boils at any insolence offered by a
+ soldier) added, "As you please!" so they put spurs to their horses
+ (_i.e._ all but Taafe, who remained quietly behind), followed and
+ stopped the man, and, fancying that he was an officer, demanded his
+ name and address, and gave their cards. The man who, I believe, was
+ half drunk, replied only by all the oaths and abuse in which the
+ Italian language is so rich. He ended by saying, "If I liked I could
+ draw my sabre and cut you all to pieces, but as it is, I only arrest
+ you," and he called out to the guards at the gate _arrestategli_. Lord
+ Byron laughed at this, and saying _arrestateci pure_, gave spurs to
+ his horse and rode towards the gate, followed by the rest. Lord Byron
+ and Gamba passed, but before the others could, the soldier got under
+ the gateway, called on the guard to stop them, and drawing his sabre,
+ began to cut at them. It happened that I and the Countess Guiccioli
+ were in a carriage close behind and saw it all, and you may guess how
+ frightened we were when we saw our cavaliers cut at, they being
+ totally unarmed. Their only safety was, that the field of battle being
+ so confined, they got close under the man, and were able to arrest his
+ arm. Captain Hay was, however, wounded in his face, and Shelley thrown
+ from his horse. I cannot tell you how it all ended, but after cutting
+ and slashing a little, the man sheathed his sword and rode on, while
+ the others got from their horses to assist poor Hay, who was faint
+ from loss of blood. Lord Byron, when he had passed the gate, rode to
+ his own house, got a sword-stick from one of his servants, and was
+ returning to the gate, Lung' Arno, when he met this man, who held out
+ his hand saying, _Siete contento?_ Lord Byron replied, "No! I must
+ know your name, that I may require satisfaction of you." The soldier
+ said, _Il mio nome è Masi, sono sargente maggiore_, etc. etc. While
+ they were talking, a servant of Lord Byron's came and took hold of the
+ bridle of the sergeant's horse. Lord Byron ordered him to let it go,
+ and immediately the man put his horse to a gallop, but, passing Casa
+ Lanfranchi, one of Lord Byron's servants thought that he had killed
+ his master and was running away; determining that he should not go
+ scot-free, he ran at him with a pitchfork and wounded him. The man
+ rode on a few paces, cried out, _Sono ammazzato_, and fell, was
+ carried to the hospital, the Misericordia bell ringing. We were all
+ assembled at Casa Lanfranchi, nursing our wounded man, and poor
+ Teresa, from the excess of her fright, was worse than any, when what
+ was our consternation when we heard that the man's wound was
+ considered mortal! Luckily none but ourselves knew who had given the
+ wound; it was said by the wise Pisani, to have been one of Lord
+ Byron's servants, set on by his padrone, and they pitched upon a poor
+ fellow merely because _aveva lo sguardo fiero, quanto un assassino_.
+ For some days Masi continued in great danger, but he is now
+ recovering. As long as it was thought he would die, the Government did
+ nothing; but now that he is nearly well, they have imprisoned two
+ men, one of Lord Byron's servants (the one with the _sguardo fiero_),
+ and the other a servant of Teresa's, who was behind our carriage, both
+ perfectly innocent, but they have been kept _in segreto_ these ten
+ days, and God knows when they will be let out. What think you of this?
+ Will it serve for our spring adventure? It is blown over now, it is
+ true, but our fate has, in general, been in common with Dame Nature,
+ and March winds and April showers have brought forth May flowers.
+
+ You have no notion what a ridiculous figure Taafe cut in all this--he
+ kept far behind during the danger, but the next day he wished to take
+ all the honour to himself, vowed that all Pisa talked of him alone,
+ and coming to Lord Byron said, "My Lord, if you do not dare ride out
+ to-day, I will alone." But the next day he again changed, he was
+ afraid of being turned out of Tuscany, or of being obliged to fight
+ with one of the officers of the sergeant's regiment, of neither of
+ which things there was the slightest danger, so he wrote a declaration
+ to the Governor to say that he had nothing to do with it; so
+ embroiling himself with Lord Byron, he got between Scylla and
+ Charybdis, from which he has not yet extricated himself; for
+ ourselves, we do not fear any ulterior consequences.
+
+
+ _10th April._
+
+ We received _Hellas_ to-day, and the bill of lading. Shelley is well
+ pleased with the former, though there are some mistakes. The only
+ danger would arise from the vengeance of Masi, but the moment he is
+ able to move, he is to be removed to another town; he is a _pessimo
+ soggetto_, being the crony of Soldaini, Rosselmini, and Augustini,
+ Pisan names of evil fame, which, perhaps, you may remember. There is
+ only one consolation in all this, that if it be our fate to suffer, it
+ is more agreeable, and more safe to suffer in company with five or six
+ than alone. Well! after telling you this long story, I must relate our
+ other news. And first, the Greek Ali Pashaw is dead, and his head sent
+ to Constantinople; the reception of it was celebrated there by the
+ massacre of four thousand Greeks. The latter, however, get on. The
+ Turkish fleet of 25 sail of the line-of-war vessels, and 40
+ transports, endeavoured to surprise the Greek fleet in its winter
+ quarters; finding them prepared, they bore away for Lante, and pursued
+ by the Greeks, took refuge in the bay of Naupacto. Here they first
+ blockaded them, and obtained a complete victory. All the soldiers on
+ board the transports, in endeavouring to land, were cut to pieces, and
+ the fleet taken or destroyed. I heard something about Hellenists which
+ greatly pleased me. When any one asks of the peasants of the Morea
+ what news there is, and if they have had any victory, they reply: "I
+ do not know, but for us it is [Greek: ê tan, ê epi tas]," being their
+ Doric pronunciation of [Greek: ê tan, ê epi tês], the speech of the
+ Spartan mother, on presenting his shield to her son; "With this or on
+ this."
+
+ I wish, my dear Mrs. Gisborne, that you would send the first part of
+ this letter, addressed to Mr. W. Godwin at Nash's, Esq., Dover Street.
+ I wish him to have an account of the fray, and you will thus save me
+ the trouble of writing it over again, for what with writing and
+ talking about it, I am quite tired. In a late letter of mine to my
+ father, I requested him to send you _Matilda_. I hope that he has
+ complied with my desire, and, in that case, that you will get it
+ copied and send it to me by the first opportunity, perhaps by Hunt, if
+ he comes at all. I do not mention commissions to you, for although
+ wishing much for the things about which I wrote [we have], for the
+ present, no money to spare. We wish very much to hear from you again,
+ and to hear if there are any hopes of your getting on in your plans,
+ what Henry is doing, and how you continue to like England. The months
+ of February and March were with us as hot as an English June. In the
+ first days of April we have had some very cold weather; so that we are
+ obliged to light fires again. Shelley has been much better in health
+ this winter than any other since I have known him, Pisa certainly
+ agrees with him exceedingly well, which is its only merit, in my eyes.
+ I wish fate had bound us to Naples instead. Percy is quite well; he
+ begins to talk, Italian only now, and to call things _bello_ and
+ _buono_, but the droll thing is, that he is right about the genders.
+ A silk _vestito_ is _bello_, but a new _frusta_ is _bella_. He is a
+ fine boy, full of life, and very pretty. Williams is very well, and
+ they are getting on very well. Mrs. Williams is a miracle of economy,
+ and, as Mrs. Godwin used to call it, makes both ends meet with great
+ comfort to herself and others. Medwin is gone to Rome; we have heaps
+ of the gossip of a petty town this winter, being just in the _coterie_
+ where it was all carried on; but now _Grazie a Messer Domenedio_, the
+ English are almost all gone, and we, being left alone, all subjects of
+ discord and clacking cease. You may conceive what a _bisbiglio_ our
+ adventure made. The Pisans were all enraged because the _maledetti
+ inglesi_ were not punished; yet when the gentlemen returned from their
+ ride the following day (busy fate) an immense crowd was assembled
+ before Casa Lanfranchi, and they all took off their hats to them.
+ Adieu. _State bene e felice._ Best remembrances to Mr. Gisborne, and
+ compliments to Henry, who will remember Hay as one of the Maremma
+ hunters; he is a friend of Lord Byron's.--Yours ever truly,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+This affair, and the consequent inquiry and examination of witnesses in
+connection with it took up several days, on one of which Mary and Countess
+Guiccioli were under examination for five hours.
+
+In the meantime Byron decided to go to Leghorn for his summer boating;
+whereupon Shelley wrote and definitively proposed to Clare that she should
+accompany his party to Spezzia, promising her quiet and privacy, and
+immunity from annoyance, while she bided her time with regard to Allegra.
+Clare accepted the offer, and joined them at Pisa on the 15th of April in
+the expectation of starting very shortly. It turned out, however, that no
+suitable houses were, after all, to be had on the coast. This was an
+unexpected disappointment, and on the 23d she and the Williams' went off
+to Spezzia for another search. They were hardly on their way when letters
+were received by Shelley and Mary with the grievous news that Allegra had
+died of typhus fever in the convent of Bagnacavallo.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+APRIL-JULY 1882
+
+
+"Evil news. Not well."
+
+These few words are Mary's record of this frightful blow. She was again in
+delicate health, suffering from the same depressing symptoms as before
+Percy's birth, and for a like reason.
+
+No wonder she was made downright ill by the shock, and by the sickening
+apprehension of the scene to follow when Clare should hear the news.
+
+On the next day but one--the 25th of April--the travellers returned.
+
+Williams says, in his diary for that day--
+
+ Meet S., his face bespoke his feelings. C.'s child was dead, and he
+ had the office to break it to her, or rather not to do so; but,
+ fearful of the news reaching her ears, to remove her instantly from
+ this place.
+
+Shelley could not tell Clare at once. Not while they were in Pisa, and
+with Byron close by. One, unfurnished, house was to be had, the Casa
+Magni, in the Bay of Lerici. Thither, on the chance of getting it, they
+must go, and instantly. Mary's indisposition must be ignored; she must
+undertake the negotiations for the house. Within twenty-four hours she was
+off to Spezzia, with Clare and little Percy, escorted by Trelawny; poor
+Clare quite unconscious of the burden on her friends' minds. Shelley
+remained behind another day, to pack up the necessary furniture; but, on
+the 27th, he with the whole Williams family left Pisa for Lerici. Thence,
+while waiting for the furniture to arrive by sea, he wrote to Mary at
+Spezzia.
+
+ SHELLEY TO MARY.
+
+ LERICI, _Sunday, 28th April 1822_.
+
+ DEAREST MARY--I am this moment arrived at Lerici, where I am
+ necessarily detained, waiting the furniture, which left Pisa last
+ night at midnight, and as the sea has been calm and the wind fair, I
+ may expect them every moment. It would not do to leave affairs here in
+ an _impiccio_, great as is my anxiety to see you. How are you, my best
+ love? How have you sustained the trials of the journey? Answer me this
+ question, and how my little babe and Clare are. Now to business--
+
+ Is the Magni House taken? if not, pray occupy yourself instantly in
+ finishing the affair, even if you are obliged to go to Sarzana, and
+ send a messenger to me to tell me of your success. I, of course,
+ cannot leave Lerici, to which port the boats (for we were obliged to
+ take two) are directed. But _you_ can come over in the same boat that
+ brings you this letter, and return in the evening. I hear that
+ Trelawny is still with you. Tell Clare that, as I must probably in a
+ few days return to Pisa for the affair of the lawsuit, I have brought
+ her box with me, thinking she might be in want of some of its
+ contents.
+
+ I ought to say that I do not think there is accommodation for you all
+ at this inn; and that, even if there were, you would be better off at
+ Spezzia; but if the Magni House is taken, then there is no possible
+ reason why you should not take a row over in the boat that will bring
+ this; but do not keep the men long. I am anxious to hear from you on
+ every account.--Ever yours,
+
+ S.
+
+Mary's answer was that she had concluded for Casa Magni, but that no other
+house was to be had in all that neighbourhood. It was in a neglected
+condition, and not very roomy or convenient; but, such as it was, it had
+to accommodate the Williams', as well as the Shelleys, and Clare.
+Considerable difficulty was experienced by Shelley in obtaining leave for
+the landing of the furniture; this obstacle got over, they at last took
+possession.
+
+ EDWARD WILLIAMS' JOURNAL.
+
+ _Wednesday, May 1._--Cloudy, with rain. Came to Casa Magni after
+ breakfast, the Shelleys having contrived to give us rooms. Without
+ them, heaven knows what we should have done. Employed all day putting
+ the things away. All comfortably settled by 4. Passed the evening in
+ talking over our folly and our troubles.
+
+The worst trouble, however, was still impending. Finding how crowded and
+uncomfortable they were likely to be, Clare, after a day or two, decided
+that it was best for herself and for every one that she should return to
+Florence, and announced her intention accordingly. Compelled by the
+circumstances, Shelley then disclosed to her the true state of the case.
+Her grief was excessive, but was, after the first, succeeded by a calmness
+unusual in her and surprising to her friends; a reaction from the fever
+of suspense and torment in which she had lived for weeks past, and which
+were even a harder strain on her powers of endurance than the truth,
+grievous though that was, putting an end to all hope as well as to all
+fear. For the present she remained at the Villa Magni.
+
+ The ground floor of this habitation was appropriated, as is often done
+ in Italy, for stowing the implements and produce of the land, as rent
+ is paid in kind there. In the autumn you find casks of wine, jars of
+ oil, tools, wood, occasionally carts, and, near the sea, boats and
+ fishing-nets. Over this floor were a large saloon and four bedrooms
+ (which had once been whitewashed), and nothing more; there was an
+ out-building for cooking, and a place for the servants to eat and
+ sleep in. The Williams had one room, and Shelley and his wife occupied
+ two more, facing each other.[47]
+
+Facing the sea, and almost over it, a verandah or open terrace ran the
+whole length of the building; it was over the projecting ground floor, and
+level with the inhabited story.
+
+The surrounding scenery was magnificent, but wild to the last degree, and
+there was something unearthly in the perpetual moaning and howling of
+winds and waves. Poor Mary now began to feel the ill effects of her
+enforced over-exertions. She became very unwell, suffering from utter
+prostration of strength and from hysterical affections. Rest, quiet, and
+freedom from worry were essential to her condition, but none of these
+could she have, nor even sleep at night. The absence of comfort and
+privacy, added to the great difficulty of housekeeping, and the melancholy
+with which Clare's misfortune had infected the whole party, were all very
+unfavourable to her.
+
+After staying for three weeks, Clare returned for a short visit to
+Florence. Shelley's letters to her during her absence afford occasional
+glimpses, from which it is easy to infer more, into the state of affairs
+at Casa Magni. Mrs. Williams was "by no means acquiescent in the present
+system of things." The plan of having all possessions in common does not
+work well in the kitchen; the respective servants of the two families were
+always quarrelling and taking each other's things. Jane, who was a good
+housekeeper, had the defects of her qualities, and "pined for her own
+house and saucepans." "It is a pity," remarks Shelley, "that any one so
+pretty and amiable should be so selfish." Not that these matters troubled
+him much. Such little "squalls" gave way to calm, "in accustomed
+vicissitude" (to use his own words); and Mrs. Williams had far too much
+tact to dwell on domestic worries to him. His own nerves were for a time
+shaken and unstrung, but he recovered, and, after the first, was unusually
+well. He was in love with the wild, beautiful place, and with the life at
+sea; for to his boat he escaped whenever any little breezes ruffled the
+surface of domestic life so that its mirror no longer reflected his own
+unwontedly bright spirits. At first he and Williams had only the small
+flat-bottomed boat in which they had navigated the Arno and Serchio, but
+in a fortnight there arrived the little schooner which Captain Roberts had
+built for Shelley at Genoa, and then their content was perfect.
+
+For Mary no such escape from care and discomfort was open; she was too
+weak to go about much, and it is no wonder that, after the Williams'
+installation, she merely chronicles, "The rest of May a blank."
+
+Williams' diary partly fills this blank; and it is so graphic in its
+exceeding simplicity that, though it has been printed before, portions may
+well be included here.
+
+ EXTRACTS FROM WILLIAMS' DIARY.
+
+ _Thursday, May 2._--Cloudy, with intervals of rain. Went out with
+ Shelley in the boat--fish on the rocks--bad sport. Went in the evening
+ after some wild ducks--saw nothing but sublime scenery, to which the
+ grandeur of a storm greatly contributed.
+
+ _Friday, May 3._--Fine. The captain of the port despatched a vessel
+ for Shelley's boat. Went to Lerici with S., being obliged to market
+ there; the servant having returned from Sarzana without being able to
+ procure anything.
+
+ _Sunday, May 5._--Fine. Kept awake the whole night by a heavy swell,
+ which made a noise on the beach like the discharge of heavy artillery.
+ Tried with Shelley to launch the small flat-bottomed boat through the
+ surf; we succeeded in pushing it through, but shipped a sea on
+ attempting to land. Walk to Lerici along the beach, by a winding path
+ on the mountain's side. Delightful evening,--the scenery most sublime.
+
+ _Monday, May 6._--Fine. Some heavy drops of rain fell to-day, without
+ a cloud being visible. Made a sketch of the western side of the bay.
+ Read a little. Walked with Jane up the mountain.
+
+ After tea walking with Shelley on the terrace, and observing the
+ effect of moonshine on the waters, he complained of being unusually
+ nervous, and stopping short, he grasped me violently by the arm, and
+ stared steadfastly on the white surf that broke upon the beach under
+ our feet. Observing him sensibly affected, I demanded of him if he
+ were in pain. But he only answered by saying, "There it is
+ again--there"! He recovered after some time, and declared that he saw,
+ as plainly as he then saw me, a naked child (Allegra) rise from the
+ sea, and clap its hands as in joy, smiling at him. This was a trance
+ that it required some reasoning and philosophy entirely to awaken him
+ from, so forcibly had the vision operated on his mind. Our
+ conversation, which had been at first rather melancholy, led to this;
+ and my confirming his sensations, by confessing that I had felt the
+ same, gave greater activity to his ever-wandering and lively
+ imagination.
+
+ _Sunday, May 12._--Cloudy and threatening weather. Wrote during the
+ morning. Mr. Maglian called after dinner, and, while walking with him
+ on the terrace, we discovered a strange sail coming round the point of
+ Porto Venere, which proved at length to be Shelley's boat. She had
+ left Genoa on Thursday, but had been driven back by prevailing bad
+ winds, a Mr. Heslop and two English seamen brought her round, and they
+ speak most highly of her performances. She does, indeed, excite my
+ surprise and admiration. Shelley and I walked to Lerici, and made a
+ stretch off the land to try her, and I find she fetches whatever she
+ looks at. In short, we have now a perfect plaything for the summer.
+
+ _Monday, May 13._--Rain during night in torrents--a heavy gale of wind
+ from S.W., and a surf running heavier than ever; at 4 gale unabated,
+ violent squalls....
+
+ ... In the evening an electric arch forming in the clouds announces a
+ heavy thunderstorm, if the wind lulls. Distant thunder--gale
+ increases--a circle of foam surrounds the bay--dark, evening, and
+ tempestuous, with flashes of lightning at intervals, which give us no
+ hope of better weather. The learned in these things say, that it
+ generally lasts three days when once it commences as this has done. We
+ all feel as if we were on board ship--and the roaring of the sea
+ brings this idea to us even in our beds.
+
+ _Wednesday, May 15._--Fine and fresh breeze in puffs from the land.
+ Jane and Mary consent to take a sail. Run down to Porto Venere and
+ beat back at 1 o'clock. The boat sailed like a witch. After the late
+ gale, the water is covered with purple nautili, or as the sailors call
+ them, Portuguese men-of-war. After dinner Jane accompanied us to the
+ point of the Magra; and the boat beat back in wonderful style.
+
+ _Wednesday, May 22._--Fine, after a threatening night. After breakfast
+ Shelley and I amused ourselves with trying to make a boat of canvas
+ and reeds, as light and as small as possible. She is to be 8-1/2 feet
+ long, and 4-1/2 broad....
+
+ _Wednesday, June 12._--Launched the little boat, which answered our
+ wishes and expectations. She is 86 lbs. English weight, and stows
+ easily on board. Sailed in the evening, but were becalmed in the
+ offing, and left there with a long ground swell, which made Jane
+ little better than dead. Hoisted out our little boat and brought her
+ on shore. Her landing attended by the whole village.
+
+ _Thursday, June 13._--Fine. At 9 saw a vessel between the straits of
+ Porto Venere, like a man-of-war brig. She proved to be the _Bolivar_,
+ with Roberts and Trelawny on board, who are taking her round to
+ Livorno. On meeting them we were saluted by six guns. Sailed together
+ to try the vessels--in speed no chance with her, but I think we keep
+ as good a wind. She is the most beautiful craft I ever saw, and will
+ do more for her size. She costs Lord Byron £750 clear off and ready
+ for sea, with provisions and conveniences of every kind.
+
+In the midst of this happy life one anxiety there was, however, which
+pursued Shelley everywhere; and neither on shore nor at sea could he
+escape from it,--that of Godwin's imminent ruin.
+
+The first of the letters which follow had reached Mary while still at
+Pisa. The next letter, and that of Mrs. Godwin were, at Shelley's request,
+intercepted by Mrs. Mason and sent to him. He could not and would not show
+them to Mary, and wrote at last to Mrs. Godwin, to try and put a stop to
+them.
+
+ GODWIN TO MARY.
+
+ SKINNER STREET, _19th April 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAREST MARY--The die, so far as I am concerned, seems now to be
+ cast, and all that remains is that I should entreat you to forget that
+ you have a father in existence. Why should your prime of youthful
+ vigour be tarnished and made wretched by what relates to me? I have
+ lived to the full age of man in as much comfort as can reasonably be
+ expected to fall to the lot of a human being. What signifies what
+ becomes of the few wretched years that remain?
+
+ For the same reason, I think I ought for the future to drop writing to
+ you. It is impossible that my letters can give you anything but
+ unmingled pain. A few weeks more, and the formalities which still
+ restrain the successful claimant will be over, and my prospects of
+ tranquillity must, as I believe, be eternally closed.--Farewell,
+
+ WILLIAM GODWIN.
+
+
+ GODWIN TO MARY.
+
+ SKINNER STREET, _3d May 1822_.
+
+ DEAR MARY--I wrote to you a fortnight ago, and professed my intention
+ of not writing again. I certainly will not write when the result shall
+ be to give pure, unmitigated pain. It is the questionable shape of
+ what I have to communicate that still thrusts the pen into my hand.
+ This day we are compelled, by summary process, to leave the house we
+ live in, and to hide our heads in whatever alley will receive us. If
+ we can compound with our creditor, and he seems not unwilling to
+ accept £400 (I have talked with him on the subject), we may emerge
+ again. Our business, if freed from this intolerable burthen, is more
+ than ever worth keeping.
+
+ But all this would, perhaps, have failed in inducing me to resume the
+ pen, but for _one extraordinary accident_. Wednesday, 1st May, was the
+ day when the last legal step was taken against me; and Wednesday
+ morning, a few hours before this catastrophe, Willats, the man who,
+ three or four years before, lent Shelley £2000 at two for one, called
+ on me to ask whether Shelley wanted any more money on the same terms.
+ What does this mean? In the contemplation of such a coincidence, I
+ could almost grow superstitious. But, alas! I fear--I fear--I am a
+ drowning man, catching at a straw.--Ever most affectionately, your
+ father,
+
+ WILLIAM GODWIN.
+
+ Please to direct your letters, till you hear further, to the care of
+ Mr. Monro, No. 60 Skinner Street.
+
+
+ MRS. MASON TO SHELLEY.
+
+ _May 1822._
+
+ I send you in return for Godwin's letter one still worse, because I
+ think it has more the appearance of truth. I was desired to convey it
+ to Mary, but that I should not think right. At the same time, I don't
+ well know how you can conceal all this affair from her; they really
+ seem to want assistance at present, for their being turned out of the
+ house is a serious evil. I rejoice in your good health, to which I
+ have no doubt the boat and the Williams' much contribute, and wish
+ there may be no prospect of its being disturbed.
+
+ Mary ought to know what is said of the novel, and how can she know
+ that without all the rest? You will contrive what is best. In the part
+ of the letter which I do send, she (Mrs. Godwin) adds, that at this
+ moment Mr. Godwin does not offer the novel to any bookseller, lest his
+ actual situation might make it be supposed that it would be sold
+ cheap. Mrs. Godwin also wishes to correspond directly with Mrs.
+ Shelley, but this I shall not permit; she says Godwin's health is much
+ the worse for all this affair.
+
+ I was astonished at seeing Clare walk in on Tuesday evening, and I
+ have not a spare bed now in the house, the children having outgrown
+ theirs, and been obliged to occupy that which I had formerly; she
+ proposed going to an inn, but preferred sleeping on a sofa, where I
+ made her as comfortable as I could, which is but little so; however,
+ she is satisfied. I rejoice to see that she has not suffered so much
+ as you expected, and understand now her former feelings better than at
+ first. When there is nothing to hope or fear, it is natural to be
+ calm. I wish she had some determined project, but her plans seem as
+ unsettled as ever, and she does not see half the reasons for
+ separating herself from your society that really exist. I regret to
+ perceive her great repugnance to Paris, which I believe to be the
+ place best adapted to her. If she had but the temptation of good
+ letters of introduction!--but I have no means of obtaining them for
+ her--she intends, I believe, to go to Florence to-morrow, and to
+ return to your habitation in a week, but talks of not staying the
+ whole summer. I regret the loss of Mary's good health and spirits, but
+ hope it is only the consequence of her present situation, and,
+ therefore, merely temporary, but I dread Clare's being in the same
+ house for a month or two, and wish the Williams' were half a mile from
+ you. I must write a few lines to Mary, but will say nothing of having
+ heard from Mrs. Godwin; you will tell her what you think right, but
+ you know my opinion, that things which cannot be concealed are better
+ told at once. I should suppose a bankruptcy would be best, but the
+ Godwins do not seem to think so. If all the world valued obscure
+ tranquillity as much as I do, it would be a happier, though possibly
+ much duller, world than it is, but the loss of wealth is quite an
+ epidemic disease in England, and it disturbs their rest more than
+ the[48] ... I should have a thousand things to say, but that I have a
+ thousand other things to do, and you give me hope of conversing with
+ you before long.--Ever yours very sincerely,
+
+ M. M.
+
+
+ SHELLEY TO MRS. GODWIN.
+
+ LERICI, _29th May 1882_.
+
+ DEAR MADAM--Mrs. Mason has sent me an extract from your last letter to
+ show to Mary, and I have received that of Mr. Godwin, in which he
+ mentions your having left Skinner Street.
+
+ In Mary's present state of health and spirits, much caution is
+ requisite with regard to communications which must agitate her in the
+ highest degree, and the object of my present letter is simply to
+ inform you that I thought it right to exercise this caution on the
+ present occasion. Mary is at present about three months advanced in
+ pregnancy, and the irritability and languor which accompany this state
+ are always distressing, and sometimes alarming. I do not know even how
+ soon I can permit her to receive such communications, or even how soon
+ you or Mr. Godwin would wish they should be conveyed to her, if you
+ could have any idea of the effect. Do not, however, let me be
+ misunderstood. It is not my intention or my wish that the
+ circumstances in which your family is involved should be concealed
+ from her; but that the detail of them should be suspended until they
+ assume a more prosperous character, or at least till letters addressed
+ to her or intended for her perusal on that subject should not convey a
+ supposition that she could do more than she does, thus exasperating
+ the sympathy which she already feels too intensely for her Father's
+ distress, which she would sacrifice all she possesses to remedy, but
+ the remedy of which is beyond her power. She imagined that her novel
+ might be turned to immediate advantage for him. I am greatly
+ interested in the fate of this production, which appears to me to
+ possess a high degree of merit, and I regret that it is not Mr.
+ Godwin's intention to publish it immediately. I am sure that Mary
+ would be delighted to amend anything that her Father thought imperfect
+ in it, though I confess that if his objection relates to the
+ character of Beatrice, _I_ shall lament the deference which would be
+ shown by the sacrifice of any portion of it to feelings and ideas
+ which are but for a day. I wish Mr. Godwin would write to her on that
+ subject; he might advert to the letter (for it is only the last one)
+ which I have suppressed, or not, as he thought proper.
+
+ I have written to Mr. Smith to solicit the loan of £400, which, if I
+ can obtain in that manner, is very much at Mr. Godwin's service. The
+ views which I now entertain of my affairs forbid me to enter into any
+ further reversionary transactions; nor do I think Mr. Godwin would be
+ a gainer by the contrary determination; as it would be next to
+ impossible to effectuate any such bargain at this distance, nor could
+ I burthen my income, which is only sufficient to meet its various
+ claims, and the system of life in which it seems necessary I should
+ live.
+
+ We hear you hear Jane's (Clare's) news from Mrs. Mason. Since the late
+ melancholy event she has become far more tranquil; nor should I have
+ anything to desire with regard to her, did not the uncertainty of my
+ own life and prospects render it prudent for her to attempt to
+ establish some sort of independence as a security against an event
+ which would deprive her of that which she at present enjoys. She is
+ well in health, and usually resides at Florence, where she has formed
+ a little society for herself among the Italians, with whom she is a
+ great favourite. She was here for a week or two; and although she has
+ at present returned to Florence, we expect her on a visit to us for
+ the summer months. In the winter, unless some of her various plans
+ succeed, for she may be called _la fille aux mille projets_, she will
+ return to Florence. Mr. Godwin may depend upon receiving immediate
+ notice of the result of my application to Mr. Smith. I hope soon to
+ have an account of your situation and prospects, and remain, dear
+ Madam, yours very sincerely,
+
+ P. B. SHELLEY.
+
+ Mrs. Godwin.
+
+ We will speak another time, of what is deeply interesting both to Mary
+ and to myself, of my dear William.
+
+The knowledge of all this on Shelley's mind,--the consciousness that he
+was hiding it from Mary, and that she was probably more than half aware of
+his doing so, gave him a feeling of constraint in his daily intercourse
+with her. To talk with her, even about her father, was difficult, for he
+could neither help nor hide his feeling of irritation and indignation at
+the way in which Godwin persecuted his daughter after the efforts she had
+made in his behalf, and for which he had hardly thanked her.
+
+It would have to come, the explanation; but for the present, as Shelley
+wrote to Clare, he was content to put off the evil day. Towards the end of
+the month Mary's health had somewhat improved, and the letter she then
+wrote to Mrs. Gisborne gives a connected account of all the past
+incidents.
+
+ MARY SHELLEY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ CASA MAGNI, Presso a LERICI,
+ _2d June 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--We received a letter from Mr. Gisborne the
+ other day, which promised one from you. It is not yet come, and
+ although I think that you are two or three in my debt, yet I am good
+ enough to write to you again, and thus to increase your debt. Nor will
+ I allow you, with one letter, to take advantage of the Insolvent Act,
+ and thus to free yourself from all claims at once. When I last wrote,
+ I said that I hoped our spring visitation had come and was gone, but
+ this year we were not quit so easily. However, before I mention
+ anything else, I will finish the story of the _zuffa_ as far as it is
+ yet gone. I think that in my last I left the sergeant recovering; one
+ of Lord Byron's and one of the Guiccioli's servants in prison on
+ suspicion, though both were innocent. The judge or advocate, called a
+ Cancelliere, sent from Florence to determine the affair, dislikes the
+ Pisans, and, having _poca paga_, expected a present from Milordo, and
+ so favoured our part of the affair, was very civil, and came to our
+ houses to take depositions against the law. For the sake of the
+ lesson, Hogg should have been there to learn to cross-question. The
+ Cancelliere, a talkative buffoon of a Florentine, with "mille scuse
+ per l'incomodo," asked, "Dove fu lei la sera del 24 marzo? Andai a
+ spasso in carozza, fuori della Porta della Piaggia." A little clerk,
+ seated beside him, with a great pile of papers before him, now dipped
+ his pen in his ink-horn, and looked expectant, while the Cancelliere,
+ turning his eyes up to the ceiling, repeated, "Io fui a spasso," etc.
+ This scene lasted two, four, six, hours, as it happened. In the space
+ of two months the depositions of fifteen people were taken, and
+ finding Tita (Lord Byron's servant) perfectly innocent, the
+ Cancelliere ordered him to be liberated, but the Pisan police took
+ fright at his beard. They called him "il barbone," and, although it
+ was declared that on his exit from prison he should be shaved, they
+ could not tranquillise their mighty minds, but banished him. We, in
+ the meantime, were come to this place, so he has taken refuge with us.
+ He is an excellent fellow, faithful, courageous, and daring. How could
+ it happen that the Pisans should be frightened at such a _mirabile
+ mostro_ of an Italian, especially as the day he was let out of
+ _segreto_, and was a _largee_ in prison, he gave a feast to all his
+ fellow-prisoners, hiring chandeliers and plate! But poor Antonio, the
+ Guiccioli's servant, the meekest-hearted fellow in the world, is kept
+ in _segreto_; not found guilty, but punished as such,--_e chi sa_ when
+ he will be let out?--so rests the affair.
+
+ About a month ago Clare came to visit us at Pisa, and went with the
+ Williams' to find a house in the Gulf of Spezzia, when, during her
+ absence, the disastrous news came of the death of Allegra. She died of
+ a typhus fever, which had been raging in the Romagna; but no one wrote
+ to say it was there. She had no friends except the nuns of the
+ Convent, who were kind to her, I believe; but you know Italians. If
+ half of the Convent had died of the plague, they would never have
+ written to have had her removed, and so the poor child fell a
+ sacrifice. Lord Byron felt the loss at first bitterly; he also felt
+ remorse, for he felt that he had acted against everybody's counsels
+ and wishes, and death had stamped with truth the many and often-urged
+ prophecies of Clare, that the air of the Romagna, joined to the
+ ignorance of the Italians, would prove fatal to her. Shelley wished to
+ conceal the fatal news from her as long as possible, so when she
+ returned from Spezzia he resolved to remove thither without delay,
+ with so little delay that he packed me off with Clare and Percy the
+ very next day. She wished to return to Florence, but he persuaded her
+ to accompany me; the next day he packed up our goods and chattels, for
+ a furnished house was not to be found in this part of the world, and,
+ like a torrent hurrying everything in its course, he persuaded the
+ Williams' to do the same. They came here; but one house was to be
+ found for us all; it is beautifully situated on the sea-shore, under
+ the woody hills,--but such a place as this is! The poverty of the
+ people is beyond anything, yet they do not appear unhappy, but go on
+ in dirty content, or contented dirt, while we find it hard work to
+ purvey miles around for a few eatables. We were in wretched discomfort
+ at first, but now are in a kind of disorderly order, living from day
+ to day as we can. After the first day or two Clare insisted on
+ returning to Florence, so Shelley was obliged to disclose the truth.
+ You may judge of what was her first burst of grief and despair;
+ however she reconciled herself to her fate sooner than we expected;
+ and although, of course, until she form new ties, she will always
+ grieve, yet she is now tranquil--more tranquil than when prophesying
+ her disaster; she was for ever forming plans for getting her child
+ from a place she judged but too truly would be fatal to her. She has
+ now returned to Florence, and I do not know whether she will join us
+ again. Our colony is much smaller than we expected, which we consider
+ a benefit. Lord Byron remains with his train at Montenero. Trelawny
+ is to be the commander of his vessel, and of course will be at
+ Leghorn. He is at present at Genoa, awaiting the finishing of this
+ boat. Shelley's boat is a beautiful creature; Henry would admire her
+ greatly; though only 24 feet by 8 feet she is a perfect little ship,
+ and looks twice her size. She had one fault, she was to have been
+ built in partnership with Williams and Trelawny. Trelawny chose the
+ name of the _Don Juan_, and we acceded; but when Shelley took her
+ entirely on himself we changed the name to the _Ariel_. Lord Byron
+ chose to take fire at this, and determined that she should be called
+ after the Poem; wrote to Roberts to have the name painted on the
+ mainsail, and she arrived thus disfigured. For days and nights, full
+ twenty-one, did Shelley and Edward ponder on her anabaptism, and the
+ washing out the primeval stain. Turpentine, spirits of wine, buccata,
+ all were tried, and it became dappled and no more. At length the piece
+ had to be taken out and reefs put, so that the sail does not look
+ worse. I do not know what Lord Byron will say, but Lord and Poet as he
+ is, he could not be allowed to make a coal barge of our boat. As only
+ one house was to be found habitable in this gulf, the Williams' have
+ taken up their abode with us, and their servants and mine quarrel like
+ cats and dogs; and besides, you may imagine how ill a large family
+ agrees with my laziness, when accounts and domestic concerns come to
+ be talked of. _Ma pazienza._ After all the place does not suit me; the
+ people are _rozzi_, and speak a detestable dialect, and yet it is
+ better than any other Italian sea-shore north of Naples. The air is
+ excellent, and you may guess how much better we like it than Leghorn,
+ when, besides, we should have been involved in English society--a
+ thing we longed to get rid of at Pisa. Mr. Gisborne talks of your
+ going to a distant country; pray write to me in time before this takes
+ place, as I want a box from England first, but cannot now exactly name
+ its contents. I am sorry to hear you do not get on, but perhaps Henry
+ will, and make up for all. Percy is well, and Shelley singularly so;
+ this incessant boating does him a great deal of good. I have been
+ very unwell for some time past, but am better now. I have not even
+ heard of the arrival of my novel; but I suppose for his own sake, Papa
+ will dispose of it to the best advantage. If you see it advertised,
+ pray tell me, also its publisher, etc.
+
+ We have heard from Hunt the day he was to sail, and anxiously and
+ daily now await his arrival. Shelley will go over to Leghorn to him,
+ and I also, if I can so manage it. We shall be at Pisa next winter, I
+ believe, fate so decrees. Of course you have heard that the lawsuit
+ went against my Father. This was the summit and crown of our spring
+ misfortunes, but he writes in so few words, and in such a manner, that
+ any information that I could get, through any one, would be a great
+ benefit to me. Adieu. Pray write now, and at length. Remember both
+ Shelley and me to Hogg. Did you get _Matilda_ from Papa?--Yours ever,
+
+ MARY W. SHELLEY.
+
+ Continue to direct to Pisa.
+
+Clare returned to the Casa Magni on the 6th of July. The weather had now
+become intensely hot, and Mary was again prostrated by it. Alarming
+symptoms appeared, and after a wretched week of ill health, these came to
+a crisis in a dangerous miscarriage. She was destitute of medical aid or
+appliances, and, weakened as she already was, they feared for her life.
+She had lain ill for several hours before some ice could be procured, and
+Shelley then took upon himself the responsibility of its immediate use;
+the event proved him right; and when at last a doctor came, he found her
+doing well. Her strength, however, was reduced to the lowest ebb; her
+spirits also; and within a week of this misfortune her recovery was
+retarded by a dreadful nervous shock she received through Shelley's
+walking in his sleep.[49]
+
+While Mary was enduring a time of physical and mental suffering beyond
+what can be told, and such as no man can wholly understand, Shelley, for
+his part, was enjoying unwonted health and good spirits. And such
+creatures are we all that unwonted health in ourself is even a stronger
+power for happiness than is the sickness of another for depression.
+
+He was sorry for Mary's gloom, but he could not lighten it, and he was
+persistently content in spite of it. This has led to the supposition that
+there was, at this time, a serious want of sympathy between Shelley and
+Mary. His only want, he said in an often-quoted letter, was the presence
+of those who could feel, and understand him, and he added, "Whether from
+proximity, and the continuity of domestic intercourse, Mary does not."
+
+It would have been almost miraculous had it been otherwise. Perhaps
+nothing in the world is harder than for a person suffering from exhausting
+illness, and from the extreme of nervous and mental depression, to enter
+into the mood of temporary elation of another person whose spirits, as a
+rule, are uneven, and in need of constant support from others. But the
+context of this very letter of Shelley's shows clearly enough that he
+meant nothing desperate, no shipwreck of the heart; for, as the people who
+could "feel, and understand him," he instances his correspondents, Mr. and
+Mrs. Gisborne, saying that his satisfaction would be complete if only
+_they_ were of the party; although, were his wishes not limited by his
+hopes, Hogg would also be included. He would have liked a little
+intellectual stimulus and comradeship. As it was, he was well satisfied
+with an intercourse of which "words were not the instruments."
+
+ I like Jane more and more, and I find Williams the most amiable of
+ companions.
+
+Jane's guitar and her sweet singing were a new and perpetual delight to
+him, and she herself supplied him with just as much suggestion of an
+unrealised ideal as was necessary to keep his imagination alive. She, on
+her side, understood him and knew how to manage him perfectly; as a great
+man may be understood by a clever woman who is so far from having an
+intellectual comprehension of him that she is not distressed by the
+consciousness of its imperfection or its absence, but succeeds by dint of
+delicate social intuition, guided by just so much sense of humour as saves
+her from exaggeration, or from blunders; and who understands her great man
+on his human side so much better than the poor creature understands
+himself, as to wind him at will, easily, gracefully, and insensibly, round
+her little finger. And so, without sacrificing a moment's peace of mind,
+Jane Williams won over Shelley an ascendency which was pleasing to both
+and convenient to every one. No better instance could be given of her
+method than the well-known episode of his sudden proposal to her to
+overturn the boat, and, together, to "solve the great mystery"; inimitably
+told by Trelawny. And so the month of June sped away.
+
+ "I have a boat here," wrote Shelley to John Gisborne, ... "it cost me
+ £80, and reduced me to some difficulty in point of money. However, it
+ is swift and beautiful, and appears quite a vessel. Williams is
+ captain, and we glide along this delightful bay, in the evening wind,
+ under the summer moon, until earth appears another world. Jane brings
+ her guitar, and if the past and the future could be obliterated, the
+ present would content me so well that I could say with Faust to the
+ present moment, 'Remain; thou art so beautiful.'"
+
+And now, like Faust, having said this, like Faust's, his hour had come.
+
+He heard from Genoa of the Leigh Hunts' arrival, so far, on their journey,
+and wrote at once to Hunt a letter of warmest welcome to Italy, promising
+to start for Leghorn the instant he should hear of the Hunts' vessel
+having sailed for that port.
+
+ Poor Mary, who sends you a thousand loves, has been seriously ill,
+ having suffered a most debilitating miscarriage. She is still too
+ unwell to rise from the sofa, and must take great care of herself for
+ some time, or she would come with us to Leghorn. Lord Byron is in
+ _villegiatura_ near Leghorn, and you will meet besides with a Mr.
+ Trelawny, a wild, but kind-hearted seaman.
+
+The Hunts sailed; and, on the 1st of July, Shelley and Williams, with
+Charles Vivian, the sailor-lad who looked after their boat, started in the
+_Ariel_ for Leghorn, where they arrived safely. Thence Shelley, with Leigh
+Hunt, proceeded to Pisa. It had not been their intention to stay long, but
+Shelley found much to detain him. Matters with respect to Byron and the
+projected magazine wore a most unsatisfactory appearance; Byron's
+eagerness had cooled, and his reception of the Hunts was chilling in the
+extreme. Poor Mrs. Hunt was very seriously ill, and the letter which Mary
+received from her husband was mainly to explain his prolonged absence. She
+had let him go from her side with the greatest unwillingness; she was
+haunted by the gloomiest forebodings and a sense of unexplained misery
+which they all ascribed to her illness, and her letters were written in a
+tone of depression which made Shelley anxious on her account, and Edward
+Williams on that of his wife, who, he feared, might be unhappy during his
+absence from her.
+
+But Jane wrote brightly, and gave an improved account of Mary.
+
+ SHELLEY TO MARY.
+
+ PISA, _4th July 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAREST MARY--I have received both your letters, and shall attend
+ to the instructions they convey. I did not think of buying the
+ _Bolivar_; Lord Byron wishes to sell her, but I imagine would prefer
+ ready money. I have as yet made no inquiries about houses near
+ Pugnano--I have had no moment of time to spare from Hunt's affairs. I
+ am detained unwillingly here, and you will probably see Williams in
+ the boat before me, but that will be decided to-morrow.
+
+ Things are in the worst possible situation with respect to poor Hunt.
+ I find Marianne in a desperate state of health, and on our arrival at
+ Pisa sent for Vaccà. He decides that her case is hopeless, and,
+ although it will be lingering, must end fatally. This decision he
+ thought proper to communicate to Hunt, indicating at the same time
+ with great judgment and precision the treatment necessary to be
+ observed for availing himself of the chance of his being deceived.
+ This intelligence has extinguished the last spark of poor Hunt's
+ spirits, low enough before. The children are well and much improved.
+ Lord Byron is at this moment on the point of leaving Tuscany. The
+ Gambas have been exiled, and he declares his intention of following
+ their fortunes. His first idea was to sail to America, which was
+ changed to Switzerland, then to Genoa, and last to Lucca. Everybody is
+ in despair, and everything in confusion. Trelawny was on the point of
+ sailing to Genoa for the purpose of transporting the _Bolivar_
+ overland to the Lake of Geneva, and had already whispered in my ear
+ his desire that I should not influence Lord Byron against this
+ terrestrial navigation. He next received _orders_ to weigh anchor and
+ set sail for Lerici. He is now without instructions, moody and
+ disappointed. But it is the worse for poor Hunt, unless the present
+ storm should blow over. He places his whole dependence upon the
+ scheme of the journal, for which every arrangement has been made. Lord
+ Byron must, of course, furnish the requisite funds at present, as I
+ cannot; but he seems inclined to depart without the necessary
+ explanations and arrangements due to such a situation as Hunt's.
+ These, in spite of delicacy, I must procure; he offers him the
+ copyright of the _Vision of Judgment_ for the first number. This
+ offer, if sincere, is _more_ than enough to set up the journal, and,
+ if sincere, will set everything right.
+
+ How are you, my best Mary? Write especially how is your health, and
+ how your spirits are, and whether you are not more reconciled to
+ staying at Lerici, at least during the summer. You have no idea how I
+ am hurried and occupied; I have not a moment's leisure, but will write
+ by next post. Ever, dearest Mary, yours affectionately,
+
+ S.
+
+ I have found the translation of the _Symposium_.
+
+
+ SHELLEY TO JANE WILLIAMS.
+
+ PISA, _4th July 1822_.
+
+ You will probably see Williams before I can disentangle myself from
+ the affairs with which I am now surrounded. I return to Leghorn
+ to-night, and shall urge him to sail with the first fair wind without
+ expecting me. I have thus the pleasure of contributing to your
+ happiness when deprived of every other, and of leaving you no other
+ subject of regret but the absence of one scarcely worth regretting. I
+ fear you are solitary and melancholy at the Villa Magni, and, in the
+ intervals of the greater and more serious distress in which I am
+ compelled to sympathise here, I figure to myself the countenance which
+ has been the source of such consolation to me, shadowed by a veil of
+ sorrow.
+
+ How soon those hours passed, and how slowly they return, to pass so
+ soon again, and perhaps for ever, in which we have lived together so
+ intimately, so happily! Adieu, my dearest friend. I only write these
+ lines for the pleasure of tracing what will meet your eyes. Mary will
+ tell you all the news.
+
+ S.
+
+
+ FROM JANE WILLIAMS TO SHELLEY.
+
+ _6th July._
+
+ MY DEAREST FRIEND--Your few melancholy lines have indeed cast your own
+ visionary veil over a countenance that was animated with the hope of
+ seeing you return with far different tidings. We heard yesterday that
+ you had left Leghorn in company with the _Bolivar_, and would
+ assuredly be here in the morning at 5 o'clock; therefore I got up, and
+ from the terrace saw (or I dreamt it) the _Bolivar_ opposite in the
+ offing. She hoisted more sail, and went through the Straits. What can
+ this mean? Hope and uncertainty have made such a chaos in my mind that
+ I know not what to think. My own Neddino does not deign to lighten my
+ darkness by a single word. Surely I shall see him to-night. Perhaps,
+ too, you are with him. Well, _pazienza_!
+
+ Mary, I am happy to tell you, goes on well; she talks of going to
+ Pisa, and indeed your poor friends seem to require all her assistance.
+ For me, alas! I can only offer sympathy, and my fervent wishes that a
+ brighter cloud may soon dispel the present gloom. I hope much from the
+ air of Pisa for Mrs. Hunt.
+
+ Lord B.'s departure gives me pleasure, for whatever may be the present
+ difficulties and disappointments, they are small to what you would
+ have suffered had he remained with you. This I say in the spirit of
+ prophecy, so gather consolation from it.
+
+ I have only time left to scrawl you a hasty adieu, and am
+ affectionately yours,
+
+ J. W.
+
+ Why do you talk of never enjoying moments like the past? Are you going
+ to join your friend Plato, or do you expect I shall do so soon? _Buona
+ notte._
+
+Mary was slowly getting better, and hoping to feel brighter by the time
+Shelley came back. On the 7th of July she wrote a few lines in her
+journal, summing up the month during which she had left it untouched.
+
+ _Sunday, July 7._--I am ill most of this time. Ill, and then
+ convalescent. Roberts and Trelawny arrive with the _Bolivar_. On
+ Monday, 16th June, Trelawny goes on to Leghorn with her. Roberts
+ remains here until 1st July, when the Hunts being arrived, Shelley
+ goes in the boat with him and Edward to Leghorn. They are still there.
+ Read _Jacopo Ortis_, second volume of _Geographica Fisica_, etc. etc.
+
+Next day, Monday the 8th, when the voyagers were expected to return, it
+was so stormy all day at Lerici that their having sailed was considered
+out of the question, and their non-arrival excited no surprise in Mary or
+Jane. So many possibilities and probabilities might detain them at Leghorn
+or Pisa, that their wives did not get anxious for three or four days; and
+even then what the two women dreaded was not calamity at sea, but illness
+or disagreeable business on shore. On Thursday, however, getting no
+letters, they did become uneasy, and, but for the rough weather, Jane
+Williams would have started in a row-boat for Leghorn. On Friday they
+watched with feverish anxiety for the post; there was but one letter, and
+it turned them to stone. It was to Shelley, from Leigh Hunt, begging him
+to write and say how he had got home in the bad weather of the previous
+Monday. And then it dawned upon them--a dawn of darkness. There was no
+news; there would be no news any more.
+
+One minute had untied the knot, and solved the great mystery. The _Ariel_
+had gone down in the storm, with all hands on board.
+
+And for four days past, though they had not known it, Mary Shelley and
+Jane Williams had been widows.
+
+
+END OF VOL. I
+
+_Printed, by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_.
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] "Address to the Irish People."
+
+[2] Possibly this may refer to Count Schlaberndorf, an expatriated
+Prussian subject, who was imprisoned in Paris during the Reign of Terror,
+and escaped, but subsequently returned, and lived there in retirement,
+almost in concealment. He was a cynic, an eccentric, yet a patriot withal.
+He was divorced from his wife, and Shelley had probably got hold of a
+wrong version of his story.
+
+[3] Byron.
+
+[4] _Ibid._
+
+[5]
+
+ Thy dewy looks sink in my breast;
+ Thy gentle words stir poison there;
+ Thou hast disturbed the only rest
+ That was the portion of despair!
+ Subdued to Duty's hard control,
+ I could have borne my wayward lot:
+ The chains that bind this ruined soul
+ Had cankered then, but crushed it not.
+
+[6] See his letter to Baxter, quoted before.
+
+[7] _Journal of a Six Weeks' Tour._
+
+[8] _Journal of a Six Weeks' Tour._
+
+[9] _Journal of a Six Weeks' Tour._
+
+[10] The bailiffs.
+
+[11] She was staying temporarily at Skinner Street.
+
+[12] Referring to Fanny's letter, enclosed.
+
+[13] Peacock's mother.
+
+[14] A friend of Harriet Shelley's.
+
+[15] It is presumed that these were for Clara, in answer to an
+advertisement for a situation as companion.
+
+[16] Godwin's friend and amanuensis.
+
+[17] Which, unfortunately, may not be published.
+
+[18] From this time Miss Clairmont is always mentioned as Clare, or
+Claire, except by the Godwins, who adhered to the original "Jane."
+
+[19] Byron.
+
+[20] Word obliterated.
+
+[21] Matthew Gregory Lewis, known as "Monk" Lewis.
+
+[22] Hogg.
+
+[23] _Revolt of Islam_, Dedication.
+
+[24] _Revolt of Islam_, Dedication.
+
+[25] The work referred to would seem to be Shelley's Oxford pamphlet.
+
+[26] Baxter's son.
+
+[27] Mr. Booth.
+
+[28] What this accusation was does not appear.
+
+[29] Alba.
+
+[30] Shelley's solicitor.
+
+[31] The nursemaid.
+
+[32] Mrs. Hunt.
+
+[33] See Godwin's letter to Baxter, chap. iii.
+
+[34] Preface to _Prometheus Unbound_.
+
+[35] Page 205.
+
+[36] In _Frankenstein_.
+
+[37] _Notes to Shelley's Poems_, by Mrs. Shelley.
+
+[38] Letter to Mr. Gisborne, of June 18, 1822.
+
+[39] Letter of Shelley's to Mr. Gisborne. (The passage, in the original,
+has no personal reference to Byron.)
+
+[40] Announcing the stoppage of Shelley's income.
+
+[41] "The Boat on the Serchio."
+
+[42] _Notes to Shelley's Poems_, by Mary Shelley.
+
+[43] Godwin's _Answer to Malthus_.
+
+[44] This initial has been printed _C._ Mrs. Shelley's letter leaves no
+doubt that Elise's is the illness referred to.
+
+[45] Trelawny's "Recollections."
+
+[46] Williams' journal for this last day runs--
+
+_February 18._--Jane unwell. S. turns physician. Called on Lord B., who
+talks of getting up _Othello_. Laid a wager with S. that Lord B. quits
+Italy before six months. Jane put on a Hindostanee dress and passed the
+evening with Mary, who had also the Turkish costume.
+
+[47] Trelawny's "Recollections."
+
+[48] Word illegible.
+
+[49] Recounted at length in a subsequent letter, to be quoted later on.
+
+
+
+
+_AT ALL BOOKSELLERS._
+
+WORD PORTRAITS OF FAMOUS WRITERS.
+
+EDITED BY MABEL E. WOTTON.
+
+In large crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.
+
+
+'"The world has always been fond of personal details respecting men who
+have been celebrated." These were the words of Lord Beaconsfield, and with
+them he prefixed his description of the personal appearance of Isaac
+d'Israeli.... The above work contains an account of the face, figure,
+dress, voice, and manner of our best known writers, ranging from Geoffrey
+Chaucer to Mrs. Henry Wood--drawn in all cases, when it is possible, by
+their contemporaries. British writers only are named, and amongst them no
+living author.'--FROM THE PREFACE.
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+ Joseph Addison.
+ Harrison Ainsworth.
+ Jane Austen.
+ Francis, Lord Bacon.
+ Joanna Baillie.
+ Benjamin, Lord Beaconsfield.
+ Jeremy Bentham.
+ Richard Bentley.
+ James Boswell.
+ Charlotte Brontë.
+ Henry, Lord Brougham.
+ Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
+ John Bunyan.
+ Edmund Burke.
+ Robert Burns.
+ Samuel Butler.
+ George, Lord Byron.
+ Thomas Campbell.
+ Thomas Carlyle.
+ Thomas Chatterton.
+ Geoffrey Chaucer.
+ Philip, Lord Chesterfield.
+ William Cobbett.
+ Hartley Coleridge.
+ Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
+ William Collins.
+ William Cowper
+ George Crabbe.
+ Daniel De Foe.
+ Charles Dickens.
+ Isaac D'Israeli.
+ John Dryden.
+ Mary Anne Evans (George Eliot).
+ Henry Fielding.
+ John Gay.
+ Edward Gibbon.
+ William Godwin.
+ Oliver Goldsmith.
+ David Gray.
+ Thomas Gray.
+ Henry Hallam.
+ William Hazlitt.
+ Felicia Hemans.
+ James Hogg.
+ Thomas Hood.
+ Theodore Hook.
+ David Hume.
+ Leigh Hunt.
+ Elizabeth Inchbald.
+ Francis, Lord Jeffrey.
+ Douglas Jerrold.
+ Samuel Johnson.
+ Ben Jonson.
+ John Keats.
+ John Keble.
+ Charles Kingsley.
+ Charles Lamb.
+ Letitia Elizabeth Landon.
+ Walter Savage Landor.
+ Charles Lever.
+ Matthew Gregory Lewis.
+ John Gibson Lockhart.
+ Sir Richard Lovelace.
+ Edward, Lord Lytton.
+ Thomas Babington Macaulay.
+ William Maginn.
+ Francis Mahony (Father Prout).
+ Frederick Marryat.
+ Harriet Martineau.
+ Frederick Denison Maurice.
+ John Milton.
+ Mary Russell Mitford.
+ Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.
+ Thomas Moore.
+ Hannah More.
+ Sir Thomas More.
+ Caroline Norton.
+ Thomas Otway.
+ Samuel Pepys.
+ Alexander Pope.
+ Bryan Waller Procter.
+ Thomas de Quincey.
+ Ann Radcliffe.
+ Sir Walter Raleigh.
+ Charles Reade.
+ Samuel Richardson.
+ Samuel Rogers.
+ Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
+ Richard Savage.
+ Sir Walter Scott.
+ William Shakespeare.
+ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley.
+ Percy Bysshe Shelley.
+ Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
+ Sir Philip Sidney.
+ Horace Smith.
+ Sydney Smith.
+ Tobias Smollett.
+ Robert Southey.
+ Edmund Spenser.
+ Arthur Penrhyn Stanley.
+ Sir Richard Steele.
+ Laurence Sterne.
+ Sir John Suckling.
+ Jonathan Swift.
+ William Makepeace Thackeray.
+ James Thomson.
+ Anthony Trollope.
+ Edmund Waller.
+ Horace Walpole.
+ Izaac Walton.
+ John Wilson.
+ Ellen Wood (Mrs. Henry Wood).
+ William Wordsworth.
+ Sir Henry Wotton.
+
+ RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
+ Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MARY
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Volume I (of 2), by Florence A. Thomas Marshall</title>
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+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft
+Shelley, Volume I (of 2), by Florence A. Thomas Marshall</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Volume I (of 2)</p>
+<p>Author: Florence A. Thomas Marshall</p>
+<p>Release Date: November 8, 2011 [eBook #37955]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY, VOLUME I (OF 2)***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>E-text prepared by<br />
+ the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+ (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br />
+ from page images generously made available by<br />
+ Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries
+ (<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/toronto">http://www.archive.org/details/toronto</a>)</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10">
+ <tr>
+ <td valign="top">
+ Note:
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ Project Gutenberg also has Volume II of this work.
+ See <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37956">http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37956</a><br />
+ <br />
+ Images of the original pages are available through
+ Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See
+ <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/lifelettersofmar01marsuoft">
+ http://www.archive.org/details/lifelettersofmar01marsuoft</a>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE LIFE AND LETTERS<br />
+OF<br />
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY<br /><br />
+I</h1>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<p class="center"><small>Photogravure by Annan &amp; Swan</small><br />
+<i>M<sup>RS</sup> SHELLEY.</i><br />
+<i>After a portrait by Rothwell,<br />
+in the possession of Sir Percy F. Shelley, Bart.</i></p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="huge">THE LIFE &amp; LETTERS</span><br />
+<small>OF</small><br />
+<span class="huge">Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley</span></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><small>BY</small><br />
+<span class="large"><span class="large">Mrs.</span> JULIAN MARSHALL</span></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">WITH PORTRAITS AND FACSIMILE</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">IN TWO VOLUMES</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">Vol. I</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">LONDON<br />
+RICHARD BENTLEY &amp; SON<br />
+Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen<br />
+1889</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PREFACE</h2>
+
+
+<p>The following biography was undertaken at the request of Sir Percy and
+Lady Shelley, and has been compiled from the MS. journals and letters in
+their possession, which were entrusted to me, without reserve, for this
+purpose.</p>
+
+<p>The earlier portions of the journal having been placed also at Professor
+Dowden&#8217;s disposal for his <i>Life of Shelley</i>, it will be found that in my
+first volume many passages indispensable to a life of Mary Shelley have
+already appeared, in one form or another, in Professor Dowden&#8217;s pages.
+This fact I have had to ignore, having indeed settled on the quotations
+necessary to my narrative before the <i>Life of Shelley</i> appeared. They are
+given without comment or dilution, just as they occur; where omissions are
+made it is in order to avoid repetition, or because the everyday entries
+refer to trivial circumstances uninteresting to the general reader.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span>Letters which have previously been published are shortened when they are
+only of moderate interest; unpublished letters are given complete wherever
+possible.</p>
+
+<p>Those who hope to find in these pages much new circumstantial evidence on
+the vexed subject of Shelley&#8217;s separation from his first wife will be
+disappointed. No contemporary document now exists which puts the case
+beyond the reach of argument. Collateral evidence is not wanting, but even
+were this not beyond the scope of the present work it would be wrong on
+the strength of it to assert more than that Shelley himself felt certain
+of his wife&#8217;s unfaithfulness. Of that there is no doubt, nor of the fact
+that all such evidence as did afterwards transpire went to prove him more
+likely to have been right than wrong in his belief.</p>
+
+<p>My first thanks are due to Sir Percy and Lady Shelley for the use of their
+invaluable documents,&mdash;for the photographs of original pictures which form
+the basis of the illustrations,&mdash;and last, not least, for their kindly
+help and sympathy during the fulfilment of my task.</p>
+
+<p>I wish especially to express my gratitude to Mrs. Charles Call for her
+kind permission to me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span> to print the letters of her father, Mr. Trelawny,
+which are among the most interesting of my unpublished materials.</p>
+
+<p>I have to thank Miss Stuart, from whom I obtained important letters from
+Mr. Baxter and Godwin; and Mr. A. C. Haden, through whom I made the
+acquaintance of Miss Christy Baxter.</p>
+
+<p>To Professor Dowden, and, above all, to Mr. Garnett, I am indebted for
+much valuable help, I may say, of all kinds.</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Florence A. Marshall.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table width="65%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td><td align="right"><small>PAGES</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Introductory remarks&mdash;Account of William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1797.</td>
+ <td>Their marriage&mdash;Birth of their daughter&mdash;Death of Mary Godwin</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1-11</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">August 1797-June 1812</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1797.</td>
+ <td>Godwin goes to reside at the &#8220;Polygon.&#8221;</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1798-99.</td>
+ <td>His despondency&mdash;Repeated proposals of marriage to various ladies.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1801.</td>
+ <td>Marriage with Mrs. Clairmont.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1805.</td>
+ <td>Enters business as a publisher&mdash;Books for children.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1807.</td>
+ <td>Removes to Skinner Street, Holborn.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1808.</td>
+ <td>Aaron Burr&#8217;s first visit to England.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1811.</td>
+ <td>Mrs. Godwin and the children go to Margate and Ramsgate&mdash;Mary&#8217;s health improves&mdash;She remains till Christmas at Miss Petman&#8217;s.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1812.</td>
+ <td>Aaron Burr&#8217;s sojourn in England&mdash;Intimacy with the Godwins&mdash;Extracts from his journal&mdash;Mary is invited to stay with the Baxters at Dundee</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_12">12-26</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">June 1812-May 1814</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1812.</td>
+ <td>Mary sails for Dundee&mdash;Godwin&#8217;s letter to Mr. Baxter&mdash;The Baxters&mdash;Mary stays with them five months&mdash;Returns to
+ London with Christy Baxter&mdash;The Shelleys dine in Skinner Street (Nov. 11)&mdash;Christy&#8217;s enjoyment of London.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span>1813.</td>
+ <td>Godwin&#8217;s letter to an anonymous correspondent describing Fanny and Mary&mdash;Mary and Christy go back to Dundee (June 3)&mdash;Mary&#8217;s
+ reminiscences of this time in the preface to <i>Frankenstein</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1814.</td>
+ <td>Mary returns home (March 30)&mdash;Domestic trials&mdash;Want of guidance&mdash;Mrs. Godwin&#8217;s jealousy&mdash;Shelley calls on Godwin (May 5)</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_27">27-41</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">April-June 1814</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Account of Shelley&#8217;s first introduction of himself to Godwin&mdash;His past history&mdash;Correspondence (1812)&mdash;Shelley
+ goes to Ireland&mdash;Publishes address to the Irish people&mdash;Godwin disapproves&mdash;Failure of Shelley&#8217;s schemes&mdash;Godwin&#8217;s
+ fruitless journey to Lynmouth (1813)&mdash;The Godwins and Shelleys meet in London&mdash;The Shelleys leave town (Nov. 12).</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1814.</td>
+ <td>Mary makes acquaintance with Shelley in May&mdash;Description of her&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s depression of spirits&mdash;His genius and
+ personal charm&mdash;He and Mary become intimate&mdash;Their meetings by Mary Wollstonecraft&#8217;s grave&mdash;Episode described
+ by Hogg&mdash;Godwin&#8217;s distress for money and dependence on Shelley&mdash;Shelley constantly at Skinner Street&mdash;He
+ and Mary own their mutual love&mdash;He gives her his copy of &#8220;Queen Mab&#8221;&mdash;His inscription&mdash;Her inscription&mdash;Hopelessness</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_42">42-56</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">June-August 1814</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td>
+ <td>Retrospective history of Shelley&#8217;s first marriage&mdash;Estrangement between him and Harriet after their visit to Scotland
+ in 1813&mdash;Deterioration in Harriet&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s deep dejection&mdash;He is much attracted by Mrs. Boinville and her circle&mdash;His
+ conclusions respecting Harriet&mdash;Their effect on him&mdash;Harriet is at Bath&mdash;She becomes anxious to hear of
+ him&mdash;Godwin writes to her&mdash;She comes to town and sees Shelley, who informs her of his intentions&mdash;Godwin goes to
+ see her&mdash;He talks to Shelley and to Jane Clairmont&mdash;The situation is intolerable&mdash;Shelley tells Mary everything&mdash;They
+ leave England precipitately, accompanied by Jane Clairmont (July 28)</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_57">57-67</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">August-September 1814</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1814.<br />(July).</td>
+ <td>They cross to Calais&mdash;Mrs. Godwin arrives in pursuit of Jane&mdash;Jane thinks of returning, but changes her mind
+ and remains&mdash;Mrs. Godwin departs&mdash;Joint journal of Shelley and Mary&mdash;They arrive at Paris without any money&mdash;They
+ procure some, and set off to walk through France with a donkey&mdash;It is exchanged for a mule, and that for a
+ carriage&mdash;Journal&mdash;They arrive in Switzerland, and having settled themselves for the winter, at once start to come
+ home&mdash;They arrive in England penniless, and have to obtain money through Harriet&mdash;They go into lodgings in London</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_68">68-81</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">September 1814-May 1815</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1814.<br />(September).</td>
+ <td>Godwin&#8217;s mortification at what had happened&mdash;False reports concerning him&mdash;Keeps Shelley well in sight,
+ but will only communicate with him through a solicitor&mdash;General demoralisation of the household&mdash;Mrs. Godwin
+ and Fanny peep in at Shelley&#8217;s windows&mdash;Poverty of the Shelleys&mdash;Harriet&#8217;s creditors&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s many dependents&mdash;He
+ has to hide from bailiffs&mdash;Jane&#8217;s excitability&mdash;Studious habits of Shelley and Mary&mdash;Extracts from journal.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1815.</td>
+ <td>Shelley&#8217;s grandfather dies&mdash;Increase of income&mdash;Mary&#8217;s first baby born&mdash;It dies&mdash;Her regret&mdash;Fanny comes to see
+ her&mdash;Frequent change of lodgings&mdash;Hogg a constant visitor&mdash;Peacock imprisoned for debt&mdash;He writes to the Shelleys&mdash;Jane
+ a source of much annoyance&mdash;She chooses to be called &#8220;Clara&#8221;&mdash;Plans for her future&mdash;She departs to Lynmouth</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_82">82-114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">May 1815-September 1816</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1815.</td>
+ <td>Objections raised to Clara&#8217;s return to Skinner Street&mdash;Her letter to Fanny Godwin from Lynmouth&mdash;The
+ Shelleys make a tour in South Devon&mdash;Shelley seeks for houses&mdash;Letter from Mary&mdash;They settle at Bishopsgate&mdash;Boating
+ expedition&mdash;Happy summer&mdash;Shelley writes &#8220;Alastor.&#8221;</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span>1816.</td>
+ <td>Mary&#8217;s son William born&mdash;List of books read by Shelley and Mary in 1815&mdash;Clara&#8217;s project of going on the stage&mdash;Her
+ connection with Byron&mdash;She introduces him to the Shelleys&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s efforts to raise money for Godwin&mdash;Godwin&#8217;s
+ rapacity&mdash;Refuses to take a cheque made out in Shelley&#8217;s name&mdash;Shelley escapes from England&mdash;Is persuaded by Clara (now
+ called &#8220;Clare&#8221; or &#8220;Claire&#8221;) to go to Geneva&mdash;Mary&#8217;s descriptive letters&mdash;Byron arrives at
+ Geneva&mdash;Association of Shelley and Byron&mdash;Origin of <i>Frankenstein</i> as related by Mary&mdash;She begins to write it&mdash;Voyage
+ of Shelley and Byron round the lake of Geneva&mdash;Tour to the valley of Chamouni&mdash;Journal&mdash;Return to England (August)&mdash;Mary
+ and Clare go to Bath, and Shelley to Marlow</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_115">115-157</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">September 1816-February 1817</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1816.</td>
+ <td>Life in lodgings at Bath&mdash;Anxieties&mdash;Letters from Fanny&mdash;Her pleadings on Godwin&#8217;s behalf&mdash;Her own disappointment&mdash;She
+ leaves home in despair&mdash;Dies by her own hand at Swansea (October 9)&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s visit to Marlow&mdash;Letter from Mary&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s
+ search for Harriet&mdash;He hears of her death&mdash;His yearning after his children&mdash;Marriage with Mary (Dec. 29).</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1817.</td>
+ <td>Birth of Clare&#8217;s infant (Jan. 13)&mdash;Visit of the Shelleys to the Leigh Hunts at Hampstead&mdash;Removal to Marlow</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_158">158-181</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">March 1817-March 1818</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1817<br />(March).</td>
+ <td>Albion House&mdash;Description&mdash;Visit of the Leigh Hunts&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s benevolence to the poor&mdash;Lord Eldon&#8217;s
+ decree depriving Shelley of the custody of his children&mdash;His indignation and grief&mdash;Godwin&#8217;s continued impecuniosity
+ and exactions&mdash;Charles Clairmont&#8217;s requests&mdash;Mary&#8217;s visit to Skinner Street&mdash;<i>Frankenstein</i> is published&mdash;<i>Journal
+ of a Six Weeks&#8217; Tour</i>&mdash;Shelley writes <i>Revolt of Islam</i>&mdash;Allegra&#8217;s presence the cause of serious annoyance to the
+ Shelleys&mdash;Mr. Baxter&#8217;s visit of discovery to Marlow&mdash;Birth of Mary&#8217;s daughter Clara (Sept. 2)&mdash;Mr. Baxter&#8217;s
+ second visit&mdash;His warm appreciation of Shelley&mdash;Fruitless <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span>efforts
+ to convert his daughter Isabel to his way of thinking&mdash;The Shelleys determine to leave Marlow&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s ill-health&mdash;Mary&#8217;s
+ letters to him in London&mdash;Desirability of sending Allegra to her father&mdash;They decide on going abroad and taking her.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1818.</td>
+ <td>Stay in London&mdash;The Booths and Baxters break off acquaintance with the Shelleys&mdash;Shelley suffers from ophthalmia&mdash;Preparations
+ for departure&mdash;The three children are christened&mdash;The whole party leave England (March 12)</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_182">182-210</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">March 1818-June 1819</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1818<br />(March).</td>
+ <td>Journey to Milan&mdash;Allegra sent to Venice&mdash;Leghorn&mdash;Acquaintance with the Gisbornes&mdash;Lucca&mdash;Mary&#8217;s
+ wish for literary work&mdash;Shelley and Clare go to Venice&mdash;The Hoppners&mdash;Byron&#8217;s villa at Este&mdash;Clara&#8217;s
+ illness&mdash;Letters&mdash;Shelley to Mary&mdash;Mary to Mrs. Gisborne&mdash;Journey to Venice&mdash;Clara dies&mdash;Godwin&#8217;s
+ letter to Mary&mdash;Este&mdash;Venice&mdash;Journey to Rome&mdash;Naples&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s depression of spirits.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1819.</td>
+ <td>Discovery of Paolo&#8217;s intrigue with Elise&mdash;They are married&mdash;Return to Rome&mdash;Enjoyment&mdash;Shelley writes <i>Prometheus
+ Unbound</i> and the <i>Cenci</i>&mdash;Miss Curran&mdash;Delay in leaving Rome&mdash;William Shelley&#8217;s illness and death</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_211">211-243</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">June 1819-September 1820</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1819<br />(August).</td>
+ <td>Leghorn&mdash;Journal&mdash;Mary&#8217;s misery and utter collapse of spirits&mdash;Letters to Miss Curran and Mrs. Hunt&mdash;The
+ Gisbornes&mdash;Henry Reveley&#8217;s project of a steamboat&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s ardour&mdash;Letter from Godwin&mdash;Removal to
+ Florence&mdash;Acquaintance with Mrs. Mason (Lady Mountcashel)&mdash;Birth of Percy (Nov. 19).</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1820.</td>
+ <td>Mary writes <i>Valperga</i>&mdash;Alarm about money&mdash;Removal to Pisa&mdash;Paolo&#8217;s infamous plot&mdash;Shelley seeks legal aid&mdash;Casa
+ Ricci, Leghorn&mdash;&#8220;Letter to Maria Gisborne&#8221;&mdash;Uncomfortable relations of Mary and Clare&mdash;Godwin&#8217;s distress and
+ petitions for money&mdash;Vexations and anxieties&mdash;Baths of San Giuliano&mdash;General improvement&mdash;Shelley writes <i>Witch of Atlas</i></td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_244">244-268</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">September 1820-August 1821</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1820.</td>
+ <td>Abandonment of the steamboat project&mdash;Disappointment&mdash;Wet season&mdash;The Serchio in flood&mdash;Return to Pisa&mdash;Medwin&mdash;His
+ illness&mdash;Clare takes a situation at Florence.</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1821.</td>
+ <td>Pisan acquaintances&mdash;Pacchiani&mdash;Sgricci&mdash;Prince Mavrocordato&mdash;Emilia Viviani&mdash;Mary&#8217;s Greek studies&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s
+ trance of Emilia&mdash;It passes&mdash;The Williams&#8217; arrive&mdash;Friendship with the Shelleys&mdash;Allegra placed in a convent&mdash;Clare&#8217;s
+ despair&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s passion for boating&mdash;They move to Pugnano&mdash;&#8220;The boat on the Serchio&#8221;&mdash;Mary sits to E.
+ Williams for her portrait&mdash;Shelley visits Byron at Ravenna</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_269">269-293</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">August-November 1821</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1821.</td>
+ <td>Letters from Shelley to Mary&mdash;He hears from Lord Byron of a scandalous story current about himself&mdash;Mary, at his
+ request, writes to Mrs. Hoppner confuting the charges&mdash;Letter entrusted to Lord Byron, who neglects to forward it&mdash;Shelley
+ visits Allegra at Bagnacavallo&mdash;Winter at Pisa&mdash;&#8220;Tre Palazzi di Chiesa&#8221;&mdash;Letters: Mary to Miss Curran;
+ Clare to Mary; Shelley to Ollier&mdash;<i>Valperga</i> is sent to Godwin&mdash;His letter accepting the gift (Jan. 1822)&mdash;Extracts</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_294">294-315</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">November 1821-April 1822</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1822.</td>
+ <td>Byron comes to Pisa&mdash;Letter from Mary to Mrs. Gisborne&mdash;Journal&mdash;Trelawny arrives&mdash;Mary&#8217;s first impression of him&mdash;His
+ description of her&mdash;His wonder on seeing Shelley&mdash;Life at Pisa&mdash;Letters from Mary to Mrs. Gisborne and Mrs.
+ Hunt&mdash;Clare&#8217;s disquiet&mdash;Her plans for getting possession of Allegra&mdash;Affair of the dragoon&mdash;Judicial inquiry&mdash;Projected
+ colony at Spezzia&mdash;Shelley invites Clare to come&mdash;She accepts&mdash;Difficulty in finding houses&mdash;Allegra&#8217;s death</td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_316">316-342</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">April-July 1822</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="top">1822<br />(April).</td>
+ <td>Difficulty in breaking the news to Clare&mdash;Mary in weak health&mdash;Clare, Mary, and Percy sent to Spezzia&mdash;Letter
+ from Shelley&mdash;He follows with the Williams&#8217;&mdash;Casa Magni&mdash;Clare hears the truth&mdash;Her grief&mdash;Domestic worries&mdash;Mary&#8217;s
+ illness and suffering&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s great enjoyment of the sea&mdash;Williams&#8217; journal&mdash;The <i>Ariel</i>&mdash;Godwin&#8217;s affairs
+ and threatened bankruptcy&mdash;Cruel letters&mdash;They are kept back from Mary&mdash;Mary&#8217;s letter to Mrs. Gisborne&mdash;Her
+ serious illness&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s nervous attacks, dreams and visions&mdash;Mrs. Williams&#8217; society soothing to him&mdash;Arrival
+ of the Leigh Hunts at Genoa&mdash;Shelley and Williams go to meet them at Pisa&mdash;They sail for Leghorn&mdash;Mary&#8217;s gloomy
+ forebodings&mdash;Letters from Shelley and Mrs. Williams&mdash;The voyagers&#8217; return is anxiously awaited&mdash;They never come&mdash;Loss of the <i>Ariel</i></td>
+ <td valign="bottom" align="right"><a href="#Page_343">343-369</a></td></tr></table>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><span class="huge">THE LIFE AND LETTERS<br />
+OF<br />
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY</span></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td>They say that thou wert lovely from thy birth,<br />
+Of glorious parents, thou aspiring Child.<br />
+I wonder not, for one then left the earth<br />
+Whose life was like a setting planet mild,<br />
+Which clothed thee in the radiance undefiled<br />
+Of its departing glory: still her fame<br />
+Shines on thee thro&#8217; the tempest dark and wild<br />
+Which shakes these latter days; and thou canst claim<br />
+The shelter, from thy Sire, of an immortal name.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 16em;"><span class="smcap">Shelley.</span></span></td></tr></table>
+
+
+<p>&#8220;So you really have seen Godwin, and had little Mary in your arms! the
+only offspring of a union that will certainly be matchless in the present
+generation.&#8221; So, in 1798, wrote Sir Henry Taylor&#8217;s mother to her husband,
+who had travelled from Durham to London for the purpose of making
+acquaintance with the famous author of <i>Political Justice</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>This &#8220;little Mary,&#8221; the daughter of William and Mary Wollstonecraft
+Godwin, was destined herself to form a union the memory of which will live
+even longer than that of her illustrious parents. She is remembered as
+<i>Mary Shelley</i>, wife of the poet. In any complete account of his life she
+plays, next to his, the most important part. Young as she was during the
+few years they passed together, her character and her intellect were
+strong enough to affect, to modify, in some degree to mould his. That he
+became what he did is in great measure due to her. This, if nothing more
+were known of her, would be sufficient to stamp her as a remarkable woman,
+of rare ability and moral excellence, well deserving of a niche in the
+almost universal biographical series of the present day. But, besides
+this, she would have been eminent among her sex at any time, in any
+circumstances, and would, it cannot be doubted, have achieved greater
+personal fame than she actually did but for the fact that she became, at a
+very early age, the wife of Shelley. Not only has his name overshadowed
+her, but the circumstances of her association with him were such as to
+check to a considerable extent her own sources of invention and activity.
+Had that freedom been her lot in which her mother&#8217;s destiny shaped itself,
+her talents must have asserted themselves as not inferior, as in some
+respects superior, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> those of Mary Wollstonecraft. This is the answer to
+the question, sometimes asked,&mdash;as if, in becoming Shelley&#8217;s wife, she had
+forfeited all claim to individual consideration,&mdash;why any separate Life of
+her should be written at all. Even as a completion of Shelley&#8217;s own story,
+Mary&#8217;s Life is necessary. There remains the fact that her husband&#8217;s
+biographers have been busy with her name. It is impossible now to pass it
+over in silence and indifference. She has been variously misunderstood. It
+has been her lot to be idealised as one who gave up all for love, and to
+be condemned and anathematised for the very same reason. She has been
+extolled for perfections she did not possess, and decried for the absence
+of those she possessed in the highest degree. She has been lauded as a
+genius, and depreciated as one overrated, whose talent would never have
+been heard of at all but for the name of Shelley. To her husband she has
+been esteemed alternately a blessing and the reverse.</p>
+
+<p>As a fact, it is probable that no woman of like endowments and promise
+ever abdicated her own individuality in favour of another so
+transcendently greater. To consider Mary altogether apart from Shelley is,
+indeed, not possible, but the study of the effect, on life and character,
+of this memorable union is unique of its kind. From Shelley&#8217;s point<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> of
+view it has been variously considered; from Mary&#8217;s, as yet, not at all.</p>
+
+<p><br />Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin was born on the 30th of August 1797.</p>
+
+<p>Her father, the philosopher and philosophical novelist, William Godwin,
+began his career as a Dissenting minister in Norfolk, and something of the
+preacher&#8217;s character adhered to him all his life. Not the apostolic
+preacher. No enthusiasm of faith or devotion, no constraining fervour,
+eliciting the like in others, were his, but a calm, earnest, philosophic
+spirit, with an irresistible impulse to guide and advise others.</p>
+
+<p>This same calm rationalism got the better, in no long time, of his
+religious creed, which he seems to have abandoned slowly, gradually, and
+deliberately, without painful struggle. His religion, of the head alone,
+was easily replaced by other views for which intellectual qualities were
+all-sufficient. Of a cool, unemotional temperament, safe from any snares
+of passion or imagination, he became the very type of a town philosopher.
+Abstractions of the intellect and the philosophy of politics were his
+world. He had a true townsman&#8217;s love of the theatre, but external nature
+for the most part left him unaffected, as it found him. With the most
+exalted opinion of his own genius and merit, he was nervously susceptible
+to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> criticism of others, yet always ready to combat any judgment
+unfavourable to himself. Never weary of argument, he thought that by its
+means, conducted on lines of reason, all questions might be finally
+settled, all problems satisfactorily and speedily solved. Hence the
+fascination he possessed for those in doubt and distress of mind. Cool
+rather than cold-hearted, he had a certain benignity of nature which,
+joined to intellectual exaltation, passed as warmth and fervour. His
+kindness was very great to young men at the &#8220;storm and stress&#8221; period of
+their lives. They for their part thought that, as he was delighted to
+enter into, discuss and analyse their difficulties, he must, himself, have
+felt all these difficulties and have overcome them; and, whether they
+followed his proffered advice or not, they never failed to look up to him
+as an oracle.</p>
+
+<p>Friendships Godwin had, but of love he seems to have kept absolutely clear
+until at the age of forty-three he met Mary Wollstonecraft. He had not
+much believed in love as a disturbing element, and had openly avowed in
+his writings that he thought it usurped far too large a place in the
+ordinary plan of human life. He did not think it needful to reckon with
+passion or emotion as factors in the sum of existence, and in his ideal
+programme they played no part at all.</p>
+
+<p>Mary Wollstonecraft was in all respects his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> opposite. Her ardent,
+impulsive, Irish nature had stood the test of an early life of much
+unhappiness. Her childhood&#8217;s home had been a wretched one; suffering and
+hardship were her earliest companions. She had had not only to maintain
+herself, but to be the support of others weaker than herself, and many of
+these had proved unworthy of her devotion. But her rare nature had risen
+superior to these trials, which, far from crushing her, elicited her
+finest qualities.</p>
+
+<p>The indignation aroused in her by injustice and oppression, her revolt
+against the consecrated tyranny of conventionality, impelled her to raise
+her voice in behalf of the weak and unfortunate. The book which made her
+name famous, <i>A Vindication of the Rights of Women</i>, won for her then, as
+it has done since, an admiration from half of mankind only equalled by the
+reprobation of the other half. Yet most of its theories, then considered
+so dangerously extreme, would to-day be contested by few, although the
+frankness of expression thought so shocking now attracted no special
+notice then, and indicated no coarseness of feeling, but only the habit of
+calling things by their names.</p>
+
+<p>In 1792, desiring to become better acquainted with the French language,
+and also to follow on the spot the development of France&#8217;s efforts in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> the
+cause of freedom, she went to Paris, where, in a short time, owing to the
+unforeseen progress of the Revolution, she was virtually imprisoned, in
+the sense of being unable to return to England. Here she met Captain
+Gilbert Imlay, an American, between whom and herself an attachment sprang
+up, and whose wife, in all but the legal and religious ceremony, she
+became. This step she took in full conscientiousness. Had she married
+Imlay she must have openly declared her true position as a British
+subject, an act which would have been fraught with the most dangerous,
+perhaps fatal consequences to them both. A woman of strong religious
+feeling, she had upheld the sanctity of marriage in her writings, yet not
+on religious grounds. The heart of marriage, and reason for it, with her,
+was love. She regarded herself as Imlay&#8217;s lawful wife, and had perfect
+faith in his constancy. It wore out, however, and after causing her much
+suspense, anxiety, and affliction, he finally left her with a little girl
+some eighteen months old. Her grief was excessive, and for a time
+threatened to affect her reason. But her healthy temperament prevailed,
+and the powerful tie of maternal love saved her from the consequences of
+despair. It was well for her that she had to work hard at her literary
+occupations to support herself and her little daughter.</p>
+
+<p>It was at this juncture that she became<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> acquainted with William Godwin.
+They had already met once, before Mary&#8217;s sojourn in France, but at this
+first interview neither was impressed by the other. Since her return to
+London he had shunned her because she was too much talked about in
+society. Imagining her to be obtrusively &#8220;strong-minded&#8221; and deficient in
+delicacy, he was too strongly prejudiced against her even to read her
+books. But by degrees he was won over. He saw her warmth of heart, her
+generous temper, her vigour of intellect; he saw too that she had
+suffered. Such susceptibility as he had was fanned into warmth. His
+critical acumen could not but detect her rare quality and worth, although
+the keen sense of humour and Irish charm which fascinated others may, with
+him, have told against her for a time. But the nervous vanity which formed
+his closest link with ordinary human nature must have been flattered by
+the growing preference of one so widely admired, and whom he discovered to
+be even more deserving of admiration and esteem than the world knew. As to
+her, accustomed as she was to homage, she may have felt that for the first
+time she was justly appreciated, and to her wounded and smarting
+susceptibilities this balm of appreciation must have been immeasurable.
+Her first freshness of feeling had been wasted on a love which proved to
+have been one-sided and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> which had recoiled on itself. To love and be
+loved again was the beginning of a new life for her. And so it came about
+that the coldest of men and the warmest of women found their happiness in
+each other. Thus drawn together, the discipline afforded to her nature by
+the rudest realities of life, to his by the severities of study, had been
+such as to promise a growing and a lasting companionship and affection.</p>
+
+<p>In the short memoir of his wife, prefixed by Godwin to his published
+collection of her letters, he has given his own account, a touching one,
+of the growth and recognition of their love.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The partiality we conceived for each other was in that mode which I
+have always considered as the purest and most refined style of love.
+It would have been impossible for the most minute observer to have
+said who was before and who was after. One sex did not take the
+priority which long-established custom has awarded it, nor the other
+overstep that delicacy which is so severely imposed. I am not
+conscious that either party can assume to have the agent or the
+patient, the toil spreader or the prey, in the affair. When in the
+course of things the disclosure came, there was nothing in a manner
+for either party to disclose to the other....</p>
+
+<p>There was no period of throes and resolute explanation attendant on
+the tale. It was friendship melting into love.</p></div>
+
+<p>They did not, however, marry at once. Godwin&#8217;s opinion of marriage, looked
+on as indissoluble, was that it was &#8220;a law, and the worst of all laws.&#8221; In
+accordance with this view, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> ceremony did not take place till their
+union had lasted some months, and when it did, it was regarded by Godwin
+in the light of a distinct concession. He expresses himself most
+decisively on this point in a letter to his friend, Mr. Wedgwood of
+Etruria (printed by Mr. Kegan Paul in his memoirs of Godwin), announcing
+his marriage, which had actually taken place a month before, but had been
+kept secret.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Some persons have found an inconsistency between my practice in this
+instance and my doctrines. But I cannot see it. The doctrine of my
+<i>Political Justice</i> is, that an attachment in some degree permanent
+between two persons of opposite sexes is right, but that marriage, as
+practised in European countries, is wrong. I still adhere to that
+opinion. Nothing but a regard for the happiness of the individual,
+which I have no right to ignore, could have induced me to submit to an
+institution which I wish to see abolished, and which I would recommend
+to my fellow-men never to practise but with the greatest caution.
+Having done what I thought was necessary for the peace and
+respectability of the individual, I hold myself no otherwise bound
+than I was before the ceremony took place.</p></div>
+
+<p>It is certain that he did not repent his concession. But their wedded
+happiness was of short duration. On 30th August 1797 a little girl was
+born to them.</p>
+
+<p>All seemed well at first with the mother. But during the night which
+followed alarming symptoms made their appearance. For a time it was hoped
+that these had been overcome, and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> deceptive rally of two days set
+Godwin free from anxiety. But a change for the worst supervened, and after
+four days of intense suffering, sweetly and patiently borne, Mary died,
+and Godwin was again alone.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">August 1797-June 1812</span></p>
+
+<p>Alone, in the sense of absence of companionship, but not alone in the
+sense that he was before, for, when he lost his wife, two helpless little
+girl-lives were left dependent on him. One was Fanny, Mary
+Wollstonecraft&#8217;s child by Imlay, now three and a half years old; the other
+the newly-born baby, named after her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, and the
+subject of this memoir.</p>
+
+<p>The tenderness of her mother&#8217;s warm heart, her father&#8217;s ripe wisdom, the
+rich inheritance of intellect and genius which was her birthright, all
+these seemed to promise her the happiest of childhoods. But these bright
+prospects were clouded within a few hours of her birth by that change in
+her mother&#8217;s condition which, ten days later, ended in death.</p>
+
+<p>The little infant was left to the care of a father of much theoretic
+wisdom but profound practical ignorance, so confirmed in his old bachelor
+ways by years and habit that, even when love so far conquered him as to
+make him quit the single<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> state, he declined family life, and carried on a
+double existence, taking rooms a few doors from his wife&#8217;s home, and
+combining the joys&mdash;as yet none of the cares&mdash;of matrimony with the
+independence, and as much as possible of the irresponsibility, of
+bachelorhood. Godwin&#8217;s sympathies with childhood had been first elicited
+by his intercourse with little Fanny Imlay, whom, from the time of his
+union, he treated as his own daughter, and to whom he was unvaryingly kind
+and indulgent.</p>
+
+<p>He moved at once after his wife&#8217;s death into the house, Polygon, Somers
+Town, where she had lived, and took up his abode there with the two
+children. They had a nurse, and various lady friends of the Godwins, Mrs.
+Reveley and others, gave occasional assistance or superintendence. An
+experiment was tried of a lady-housekeeper which, however, failed, as the
+lady in becoming devoted to the children showed a disposition to become
+devoted to Godwin also, construing civilities into marked attentions,
+resenting fancied slights, and becoming at last an insupportable thorn in
+the poor philosopher&#8217;s side. His letters speak of his despondency and
+feeling of unfitness to have the care of these young creatures devolved on
+him, and with this sense there came also the renewed perception of the
+rare maternal qualities of the wife he had lost.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>&#8220;The poor children!&#8221; he
+wrote, six weeks after his bereavement. &#8220;I am myself totally unfitted to educate them. The scepticism which perhaps
+sometimes leads me right in matters of speculation is torment to me
+when I would attempt to direct the infant mind. I am the most unfit
+person for this office; she was the best qualified in the world. What
+a change! The loss of the children is less remediless than mine. You
+can understand the difference.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The immediate consequence of this was that he, who had passed so many
+years in contented bachelorhood, made, within a short time, repeated
+proposals of marriage to different ladies, some of them urged with a
+pertinacity nothing short of ludicrous, so ingenuously and argumentatively
+plain does he make it that he found it simply incredible any woman should
+refuse him to whom he had condescended to propose. His former objections
+to marriage are never now alluded to and seem relegated to the category of
+obsolete theories. Nothing testifies so strongly to his married happiness
+as his constant efforts to recover any part of it, and his faith in the
+possibility of doing so. In 1798 he proposed again and again to a Miss Lee
+whom he had not seen half a dozen times. In 1799 he importuned the
+beautiful Mrs. Reveley, who had, herself, only been a widow for a month,
+to marry him. He was really attached to her, and was much wounded when,
+not long after, she married a Mr. Gisborne.</p>
+
+<p>During Godwin&#8217;s preoccupations and occasional<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> absences, the kindest and
+most faithful friend the children had was James Marshall, who acted as
+Godwin&#8217;s amanuensis, and was devotedly attached to him and all who
+belonged to him.</p>
+
+<p>In 1801 Godwin married a Mrs. Clairmont, his next-door neighbour, a widow
+with a son, Charles, about Fanny&#8217;s age, and a daughter, Jane, somewhat
+younger than little Mary. The new Mrs. Godwin was a clever, bustling,
+second-rate woman, glib of tongue and pen, with a temper undisciplined and
+uncontrolled; not bad-hearted, but with a complete absence of all the
+finer sensibilities; possessing a fund of what is called &#8220;knowledge of the
+world,&#8221; and a plucky, enterprising, happy-go-lucky disposition, which
+seemed to the philosophic and unpractical Godwin, in its way, a
+manifestation of genius. Besides, she was clever enough to admire Godwin,
+and frank enough to tell him so, points which must have been greatly in
+her favour.</p>
+
+<p>Although her father&#8217;s remarriage proved a source of lifelong unhappiness
+to Mary, it may not have been a bad thing for her and Fanny at the time.
+Instead of being left to the care of servants, with the occasional
+supervision of chance friends, they were looked after with solicitous, if
+not always the most judicious care. The three little girls were near
+enough of an age to be companions to each other, but Fanny was the senior
+by three years and a half. She bore Godwin&#8217;s name, and was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> considered and
+treated as the eldest daughter of the house.</p>
+
+<p>Godwin&#8217;s worldly circumstances were at all times most precarious, nor had
+he the capability or force of will to establish them permanently on a
+better footing. His earnings from his literary works were always
+forestalled long before they were due, and he was in the constant habit of
+applying to his friends for loans or advances of money which often could
+only be repaid by similar aid from some other quarter.</p>
+
+<p>In the hope of mending their fortunes a little, Mrs. Godwin, in 1805,
+induced her husband to make a venture as a publisher. He set up a small
+place of business in Hanway Street, in the name of his foreman, Baldwin,
+deeming that his own name might operate prejudicially with the public on
+account of his advanced political and social opinions, and also that his
+own standing in the literary world might suffer did it become known that
+he was connected with trade.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Godwin was the chief practical manager in this business, which
+finally involved her husband in ruin, but for a time promised well enough.
+The chief feature in the enterprise was a &#8220;Magazine of Books for the use
+and amusement of children,&#8221; published by Godwin under the name of Baldwin;
+books of history, mythology, and fable, all admirably written for their
+special purpose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> He used to test his juvenile works by reading them to
+his children and observing the effect. Their remark would be (so he says),
+&#8220;How easy this is! Why, we learn it by heart almost as fast as we read
+it.&#8221; &#8220;Their suffrage,&#8221; he adds, &#8220;gave me courage, and I carried on my work
+to the end.&#8221; Mrs. Godwin translated, for the business, several childrens&#8217;
+books from the French. Among other works specially written, Lamb&#8217;s <i>Tales
+from Shakespeare</i> owes its existence to &#8220;M. J. Godwin &amp; Co.,&#8221; the name
+under which the firm was finally established.</p>
+
+<p>New and larger premises were taken in Skinner Street, Holborn, and in the
+autumn of 1807 the whole family, which now included five young ones, of
+whom Charles Clairmont was the eldest, and William, the son of Godwin and
+his second wife, the youngest, removed to a house next door to the
+publishing office. Here they remained until 1822.</p>
+
+<p>No continuous record exists of the family life, and the numerous letters
+of Godwin and Mrs. Godwin when either was absent from home contain only
+occasional references to it. Both parents were too much occupied with
+business systematically to superintend the children&#8217;s education. Mrs.
+Godwin, however, seems to have taken a bustling interest in ordering it,
+and scrupulously refers to Godwin all points of doubt or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> discussion. From
+his letters one would judge that, while he gave due attention to each
+point, discussing <i>pros</i> and <i>cons</i> with his deliberate impartiality, his
+wife practically decided everything. Although they sometimes quarrelled
+(on one occasion to the extent of seriously proposing to separate) they
+always made it up again, nor is there any sign that on the subject of the
+children&#8217;s training they ever had any real difference of opinion. Mrs.
+Godwin&#8217;s jealous fussiness gave Godwin abundant opportunities for the
+exercise of philosophy, and to the inherent untruthfulness of her manner
+and speech he remained strangely and philosophically blind. From allusions
+in letters we gather that the children had a daily governess, with
+occasional lessons from a master, Mr. Burton. It is often asserted that
+Mrs. Godwin was a harsh and cruel stepmother, who made the children&#8217;s home
+miserable. There is nothing to prove this. Later on, when moral guidance
+and sympathy were needed, she fell short indeed of what she might have
+been. But for the material wellbeing of the children she cared well
+enough, and was at any rate desirous that they should be happy, whether or
+not she always took the best means of making them so. And Godwin placed
+full confidence in her practical powers.</p>
+
+<p>In May 1811 Mrs. Godwin and all the children except Fanny, who stayed at
+home to keep house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> for Godwin, went for sea-bathing to Margate, moving
+afterwards to Ramsgate. This had been urged by Mr. Cline, the family
+doctor, for the good of little Mary, who, during some years of her
+otherwise healthy girlhood, suffered from a weakness in one arm. They
+boarded at the house of a Miss Petman, who kept a ladies&#8217; school, but had
+their sleeping apartments at an inn or other lodging. Mary, however, was
+sent to stay altogether at Miss Petman&#8217;s, in order to be quiet, and in
+particular to be out of the way of little William, &#8220;he made so boisterous
+a noise when going to bed at night.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The sea-breezes soon worked the desired effect. &#8220;Mary&#8217;s arm is better,&#8221;
+writes Mrs. Godwin on the 10th of June. &#8220;She begins to move and use it.&#8221;
+So marked and rapid was the improvement that Mrs. Godwin thought it would
+be as well to leave her behind for a longer stay when the rest returned to
+town, and wrote to consult Godwin about it. His answer is characteristic.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">When I do not answer any of the lesser points in your letters, it is
+because I fully agree with you, and therefore do not think it
+necessary to draw out an answer point by point, but am content to
+assent by silence.... This was the case as to Mary&#8217;s being left in the
+care of Miss Petman. It was recommended by Mr. Cline from the first
+that she should stay six months; to this recommendation we both
+assented. It shall be so, if it can, and undoubtedly I conceived you,
+on the spot, most competent to select the residence.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>Mary accordingly remained at Miss Petman&#8217;s as a boarder, perhaps as a
+pupil also, till 19th December, when, from her father&#8217;s laconic but minute
+and scrupulously accurate diary, we learn that she returned home. For the
+next five months she was in Skinner Street, participating in its busy,
+irregular family life, its ups and downs, its anxieties, discomforts, and
+amusements, its keen intellectual activity and lively interest in social
+and literary matters, in all of which the young people took their full
+share. Entries are frequent in Godwin&#8217;s diary of visits to the theatre, of
+tea-drinkings, of guests of all sorts at home. One of these guests affords
+us, in his journal, some agreeable glimpses into the Godwin household.</p>
+
+<p>This was the celebrated Aaron Burr, sometime Vice-President of the United
+States, now an exile and a wanderer in Europe.</p>
+
+<p>At the time of his election he had got into disgrace with his party, and,
+when nominated for the Governorship of New York, he had been opposed and
+defeated by his former allies. The bitter contest led to a duel between
+him and Alexander Hamilton, in which the latter was killed. Disfranchised
+by the laws of New York for having fought a duel, and indicted (though
+acquitted) for murder in New Jersey, Burr set out on a journey through the
+Western States, nourishing schemes of sedition and revenge. When he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>
+purchased 400,000 acres of land on the Red River, and gave his adherents
+to understand that the Spanish Dominions were to be conquered, his
+proceedings excited alarm. President Jefferson issued a proclamation
+against him, and he was arrested on a charge of high treason. Nothing
+could, however, be positively proved, and after a six months&#8217; trial he was
+liberated. He at once started for Europe, having planned an attack on
+Mexico, for which he hoped to get funds and adherents. He was
+disappointed, and during the four years which he passed in Europe he often
+lived in the greatest poverty.</p>
+
+<p>On his first visit to England, in 1808, Burr met Godwin only once, but the
+entry in his journal, besides bearing indirect witness to the great
+celebrity of Mary Wollstonecraft in America, gives an idea of the kind of
+impression made on a stranger by the second Mrs. Godwin.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have seen the two daughters of Mary Wollstonecraft,&#8221; he writes. &#8220;They
+are very fine children (the eldest no longer a child, being now fifteen),
+but scarcely a discernible trace of the mother. Now Godwin has been seven
+or eight years married to a second wife, a sensible, amiable woman.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>For the next four years Burr was a wanderer in Holland and France. His
+journal, kept for the benefit of his daughter Theodosia, to whom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> he also
+addressed a number of letters, is full of strange and stirring interest.
+In 1812 he came back to England, where it was not long before he drifted
+to Godwin&#8217;s door. Burr&#8217;s character was licentious and unscrupulous, but
+his appearance and manners were highly prepossessing; he made friends
+wherever he went. The Godwin household was full of hospitality for such
+Bohemian wanderers as he. Always itself in a precarious state of fortune,
+it held out the hand of fellowship to others whose existence from day to
+day was uncertain. A man of brains and ideas, of congenial and lively
+temperament, was sure of a fraternal welcome. And though many of Godwin&#8217;s
+older friends were, in time, estranged from him through their antipathy to
+his wife, she was full of patronising good-nature for a man like Burr, who
+well knew how to ingratiate himself.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Burr&#8217;s Journal, February 15, 1812.</i>&mdash;Had only time to get to
+Godwin&#8217;s, where we dined. In the evening William, the only son of
+William Godwin, a lad of about nine years old, gave his weekly
+lecture: having heard how Coleridge and others lectured, he would also
+lecture, and one of his sisters (Mary, I think) writes a lecture which
+he reads from a little pulpit which they have erected for him. He went
+through it with great gravity and decorum. The subject was &#8220;The
+influence of government on the character of a people.&#8221; After the
+lecture we had tea, and the girls danced and sang an hour, and at nine
+came home.</p></div>
+
+<p>Nothing can give a pleasanter picture of the family, the lively-minded
+children keenly interested<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> in all the subjects and ideas they heard
+freely discussed around them; the elders taking pleasure in encouraging
+the children&#8217;s first essays of intellect; Mary at fourteen already showing
+her powers of thought and inborn vocation to write, and supplying her
+little brother with ideas. The reverse of the medal appears in the next
+entry, for the genial unconventional household was generally on the verge
+of ruin, and dependent on some expected loan for subsistence in the next
+few months. When once the sought-for assistance came they revelled in
+momentary relief from care.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><i>Journal, February 18.</i>&mdash;Have gone this evening to Godwin&#8217;s. They are
+in trouble. Some financial affair.</p>
+
+<p>It did not weigh long on their spirits.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>February 24.</i>&mdash;Called at Godwin&#8217;s to leave the newspapers which I
+borrowed yesterday, and to get that of to-day. <i>Les goddesses</i> (so he
+habitually designates the three girls) kept me by acclamation to tea
+with <i>la printresse</i> Hopwood. I agreed to go with the girls to call on
+her on Friday.</p>
+
+<p><i>February 28.</i>&mdash;Was engaged to dine to-day at Godwin&#8217;s, and to walk
+with the four dames. After dinner to the Hopwoods. All which was done.</p>
+
+<p><i>March 7.</i>&mdash;To Godwin&#8217;s, where I took tea with the children in their
+room.</p>
+
+<p><i>March 14.</i>&mdash;To Godwin&#8217;s. He was out. Madame and <i>les enfans</i> upstairs
+in the bedroom, where they received me, and I drank tea with his
+<i>enfans</i>.... Terribly afraid of vigils to-night, for Jane made my tea,
+and, I fear, too strong. It is only Fan that I can trust.</p>
+
+<p><i>March 17.</i>&mdash;To Godwin&#8217;s, where took tea with the children, who always
+have it at 9. Mr. and Madame at 7.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span><i>March 22.</i>&mdash;On to Godwin&#8217;s; found him at breakfast and joined him.
+Madame a-bed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Later.</i>&mdash;Mr. and Mrs. Godwin would not give me their account, which
+must be five or six pounds, a very serious sum for them. They say that
+when I succeed in the world they will call on me for help.</p></div>
+
+<p>This probably means that the Godwins had lent him money. He was well-nigh
+penniless, and Mrs. Godwin exerted herself to get resources for him, to
+sell one or two books of value which he had, and to get a good price for
+his watch. She knew a good deal of the makeshifts of poverty, and none of
+the family seemed to have grudged time or trouble if they could do a good
+turn to this companion in difficulties. It is a question whether, when
+they talked of his succeeding in the world, they were aware of the
+particular form of success for which he was scheming; in any case they
+seem to have been content to take him as they found him. They were the
+last friends from whom he parted on the eve of sailing for America. His
+entry just before starting is&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Called and passed an hour with the Godwins. That family does really
+love me. Fanny, Mary, and Jane, also little William: you must not
+forget, either, Hannah Hopwood, <i>la printresse</i>.</p>
+
+<p>These few months were, very likely, the brightest which Mary ever passed
+at home. Her rapidly growing powers of mind and observation were nourished
+and developed by the stimulating intellectual atmosphere around her; to
+the anxieties<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> and uncertainties which, like birds of ill-omen, hovered
+over the household and were never absent for long together, she was well
+accustomed, besides which she was still too young to be much affected by
+them. She was fond of her sisters, and devoted to her father. Mrs.
+Godwin&#8217;s temperament can never have been congenial to hers, but occasions
+of collision do not appear to have been frequent, and Fanny, devoted and
+unselfish, only anxious for others to be happy and ready herself to serve
+any of them, was the link between them all. Mary&#8217;s health was, however,
+not yet satisfactory, and before the summer an opportunity which offered
+itself of change of air was willingly accepted on her behalf by Mr. and
+Mrs. Godwin. In 1809 Godwin had made the acquaintance of Mr. William
+Baxter of Dundee, on the introduction of Mr. David Booth, who afterwards
+became Baxter&#8217;s son-in-law. Baxter, a man of liberal mind, independence of
+thought and action, and kindly nature, shared to the full the respect
+entertained by most thinking men of that generation for the author of
+<i>Political Justice</i>. Godwin, always accessible to sympathetic strangers,
+was at once pleased with this new acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I thank you,&#8221; he wrote to Booth, &#8220;for your introduction of Mr. Baxter. I
+dare swear he is an honest man, and he is no fool.&#8221; During Baxter&#8217;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>
+several visits to London they became better acquainted. Charles Clairmont
+too, went to Edinburgh in 1811, as a clerk in Constable&#8217;s printing office,
+where he met and made friends with Baxter&#8217;s son Robert, who, as well as
+his father, visited the Skinner Street household in London, and through
+whom the intimacy was cemented. In this way it was that Mary was invited
+to come on a long visit to the Baxters at their house, &#8220;The Cottage,&#8221; on
+the banks of the Tay, just outside Dundee, on the road to Broughty Ferry.
+The family included several girls, near Mary&#8217;s own age, and with true
+Scotch hospitality they pressed her to make one of their family circle for
+an indefinite length of time, until sea-air and sea-bathing should have
+completed the recovery begun the year before at Ramsgate, but which could
+not be maintained in the smoky air and indoor life of London. Accordingly,
+Mary sailed for Dundee on the 8th of June 1812.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">June 1812-May 1814</span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Godwin to Baxter.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Skinner Street, London.</span><br />
+<span style="padding-right: 2em;"><i>8th June 1812.</i></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>&mdash;I have shipped off to you by yesterday&#8217;s packet, the
+<i>Osnaburgh</i>, Captain Wishart, my only daughter. I attended her, with
+her two sisters, to the wharf, and remained an hour on board, till the
+vessel got under way. I cannot help feeling a thousand anxieties in
+parting with her, for the first time, for so great a distance, and
+these anxieties were increased by the manner of sending her, on board
+a ship, with not a single face around her that she had ever seen till
+that morning. She is four months short of fifteen years of age. I,
+however, spoke to the captain, using your name; I beside gave her in
+charge to a lady, by name I believe Mrs. Nelson, of Great St. Helen&#8217;s,
+London, who was going to your part of the island in attendance upon an
+invalid husband. She was surrounded by three daughters when I spoke to
+her, and she answered me very agreeably. &#8220;I shall have none of my own
+daughters with me, and shall therefore have the more leisure to attend
+to yours.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>I daresay she will arrive more dead than alive, as she is extremely
+subject to sea-sickness, and the voyage will, not improbably, last
+nearly a week. Mr. Cline, the surgeon, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>however, decides that a
+sea-voyage would probably be of more service to her than anything.</p>
+
+<p>I am quite confounded to think what trouble I am bringing on you and
+your family, and to what a degree I may be said to have taken you in
+when I took you at your word in your invitation upon so slight an
+acquaintance. The old proverb says, &#8220;He is a wise father who knows his
+own child,&#8221; and I feel the justness of the apothegm on the present
+occasion.</p>
+
+<p>There never can be a perfect equality between father and child, and if
+he has other objects and avocations to fill up the greater part of his
+time, the ordinary resource is for him to proclaim his wishes and
+commands in a way somewhat sententious and authoritative, and
+occasionally to utter his censures with seriousness and emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>It can, therefore, seldom happen that he is the confidant of his
+child, or that the child does not feel some degree of awe or restraint
+in intercourse with him. I am not, therefore, a perfect judge of
+Mary&#8217;s character. I believe she has nothing of what is commonly called
+vices, and that she has considerable talent. But I tremble for the
+trouble I may be bringing on you in this visit. In my last I desired
+that you would consider the first two or three weeks as a trial, how
+far you can ensure her, or, more fairly and impartially speaking, how
+far her habits and conceptions may be such as to put your family very
+unreasonably out of their way; and I expect from the frankness and
+ingenuousness of yours of the 29th inst. (which by the way was so
+ingenuous as to come without a seal) that you will not for a moment
+hesitate to inform me if such should be the case. When I say all this,
+I hope you will be aware that I do not desire that she should be
+treated with extraordinary attention, or that any one of your family
+should put themselves in the smallest degree out of their way on her
+account. I am anxious that she should be brought up (in this respect)
+like a philosopher, even like a cynic. It will add greatly to the
+strength and worth of her character. I should also observe that she
+has no love of dissipation, and will be perfectly satisfied with your
+woods and your mountains.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> I wish, too, that she should be <i>excited</i>
+to industry. She has occasionally great perseverance, but
+occasionally, too, she shows great need to be roused.</p>
+
+<p>You are aware that she comes to the sea-side for the purpose of
+bathing. I should wish that you would inquire now and then into the
+regularity of that. She will want also some treatment for her arm, but
+she has Mr. Cline&#8217;s directions completely in all these points, and
+will probably not require a professional man to look after her while
+she is with you. In all other respects except her arm she has
+admirable health, has an excellent appetite, and is capable of
+enduring fatigue. Mrs. Godwin reminds me that I ought to have said
+something about troubling your daughters to procure a washerwoman. But
+I trust that, without its being necessary to be thus minute, you will
+proceed on the basis of our being earnest to give you as little
+trouble as the nature of the case will allow.&mdash;I am, my dear sir, with
+great regard, yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">William Godwin</span>.</p></div>
+
+<p>At Dundee, with the Baxters, Mary remained for five months. She was
+treated as a sister by the Baxter girls, one of whom, Isabella, afterwards
+the wife of David Booth, became her most intimate friend. An elder sister,
+Miss Christian Baxter, to whom the present writer is indebted for a few
+personal reminiscences of Mary Godwin, only died in 1886, and was probably
+the last survivor of those who remembered Mary in her girlhood. They were
+all fond of their new companion. She was agreeable, vivacious, and
+sparkling; very pretty, with fair hair and complexion, and clear, bright
+white skin. The Baxters were people of education and culture,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> active
+minded, fond of reading, and alive to external impressions. The young
+people were well and carefully brought up. Mary shared in all their
+studies.</p>
+
+<p>Music they did not care for, but all were fond of drawing and painting,
+and had good lessons. A great deal of time was spent in touring about, in
+long walks and drives through the moors and mountains of Forfarshire. They
+took pains to make Mary acquainted with all the country round, besides
+which it was laid on her as a duty to get as much fresh air as she could,
+and she must greatly have enjoyed the well-ordered yet easy life, the
+complete change of scene and companionship. When, on the 10th of November,
+she arrived again in Skinner Street, she brought Christy Baxter with her,
+for a long return visit to London. If Mary had enjoyed her country outing,
+still more keenly did the homely Scotch girl relish her first taste of
+London life and society. At ninety-two years old the impression of her
+pleasure in it, of her interest in all the notable people with whom she
+came in contact, was as vivid as ever.</p>
+
+<p>The literary and artistic circle which still hung about the Skinner Street
+philosophers was to Christy a new world, of which, except from books, she
+had formed no idea. Books, however, had laid the foundation of keenest
+interest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> in all she was to see. She was constantly in company with Lamb,
+Hazlitt, Coleridge, Constable, and many more, hitherto known to her only
+by name. Of Charles Lamb especially, of his wit, humour, and quaintness
+she retained the liveliest recollection, and he had evidently a great
+liking for her, referring jokingly to her in his letters as &#8220;Doctor
+Christy,&#8221; and often inviting her, with the Godwin family, to tea, to meet
+her relatives, when up in town, or other friends.</p>
+
+<p>On 11th November, the very day after the two girls arrived in London, a
+meeting occurred of no special interest to Christy at the time, and which
+she would have soon forgotten but for subsequent events. Three guests came
+to dinner at Godwin&#8217;s. These were Percy Bysshe Shelley with his wife
+Harriet, and her sister, Eliza Westbrook. Christy Baxter well remembered
+this, but her chief recollection was of Harriet, her beauty, her brilliant
+complexion and lovely hair, and the elegance of her purple satin dress. Of
+Shelley, how he looked, what he said or did, what they all thought of him,
+she had observed nothing, except that he was very attentive to Harriet.
+The meeting was of no apparent significance and passed without remark:
+little indeed did any one foresee the drama soon to follow. Plenty of more
+important days, more interesting meetings to Christy, followed during the
+next few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> months. She shared Mary&#8217;s room during this time, but her memory,
+in old age, afforded few details of their everyday intercourse. Indeed,
+although they spent so much time together, these two were never very
+intimate. Isabella Baxter, afterwards Mrs. Booth, was Mary&#8217;s especial
+friend and chief correspondent, and it is much to be regretted that none
+of their girlish letters have been preserved.</p>
+
+<p>The four girls had plenty of liberty, and, what with reading and talk,
+with constantly varied society enjoyed in the intimate unconstrained way
+of those who cannot afford the <i>appareil</i> of convention, with tolerably
+frequent visits at friends&#8217; houses and not seldom to the theatre, when
+Godwin, as often happened, got a box sent him, they had plenty of
+amusement too. Godwin&#8217;s diary keeps a wonderfully minute skeleton account
+of all their doings. Christy enjoyed it all as only a novice can do. All
+her recollections of the family life were agreeable; if anything had left
+an unpleasing impression it had faded away in 1883, when the present
+writer saw her. For Godwin she entertained a warm respect and affection.
+They did not see very much of him, but Christy was a favourite of his, and
+he would sometimes take a quiet pleasure, not unmixed with amusement, in
+listening to their girlish talks and arguments. One such discussion she
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>distinctly remembered, on the subject of woman&#8217;s vocation, as to whether
+it should be purely domestic, or whether they should engage in outside
+interests. Mary and Jane upheld the latter view, Fanny and Christy the
+other.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Godwin was kind to Christy, who always saw her best side, and never
+would hear a word said against her. Her deficiencies were not palpable to
+an outsider whom she liked and chose to patronise, nor did Christy appear
+to have felt the inherent untruthfulness in Mrs. Godwin&#8217;s character,
+although one famous instance of it was recorded by Isabella Baxter, and is
+given at length in Mr. Kegan Paul&#8217;s <i>Life of Godwin</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The various members of the family had more independence of habits than is
+common in English domestic life. This was perhaps a relic of Godwin&#8217;s old
+idea, that much evil and weariness resulted from the supposed necessity
+that the members of a family should spend all or most of their time in
+each other&#8217;s company. He always breakfasted alone. Mrs. Godwin did so
+also, and not till mid-day. The young folks had theirs together. Dinner
+was a family meal, but supper seems to have been a movable feast. Jane
+Clairmont, of whose education not much is known beyond the fact that she
+was sometimes at school, was at home for a part if not all of this time.
+She was lively and quick-witted, and probably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> rather unmanageable. Fanny
+was more reflective, less sanguine, more alive to the prosaic obligations
+of life, and with a keen sense of domestic duty, early developed in her by
+necessity and by her position as the eldest of this somewhat anomalous
+family. Godwin, by nature as undemonstrative as possible, showed more
+affection to Fanny than to any one else. He always turned to her for any
+little service he might require. It seemed, said Christy, as though he
+would fain have guarded against the possibility of her feeling that she,
+an orphan, was less to him than the others. Christy was of opinion that
+Fanny was not made aware of her real position till her quite later years,
+a fact which, if true, goes far towards explaining much of her after life.
+It seems most likely, at any rate, that at this time she was unacquainted
+with the circumstances of her birth. To Godwin she had always seemed like
+his own eldest child, the first he had cared for or who had been fond of
+him, and his dependence on her was not surprising, for no daughter could
+have tended him with more solicitous care; besides which, she was one of
+those people, ready to do anything for everybody, who are always at the
+beck and call of others, and always in request. She filled the home, to
+which Mary, so constantly absent, was just now only a visitor.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>It must have been at about this time that Godwin received a letter from an
+unknown correspondent, who expressed much curiosity to know whether his
+children were brought up in accordance with the ideas, by some considered
+so revolutionary and dangerous, of Mary Wollstonecraft, and what the
+result was of reducing her theories to actual practice. Godwin&#8217;s answer,
+giving his own description of her two daughters, has often been printed,
+but it is worth giving here.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Your inquiries relate principally to the two daughters of Mary
+Wollstonecraft. They are neither of them brought up with an exclusive
+attention to the system of their mother. I lost her in 1797, and in
+1801 I married a second time. One among the motives which led me to
+choose this was the feeling I had in myself of an incompetence for the
+education of daughters. The present Mrs. Godwin has great strength and
+activity of mind, but is not exclusively a follower of their mother;
+and indeed, having formed a family establishment without having a
+previous provision for the support of a family, neither Mrs. Godwin
+nor I have leisure enough for reducing novel theories of education to
+practice, while we both of us honestly endeavour, as far as our
+opportunities will permit, to improve the minds and characters of the
+younger branches of the family.</p>
+
+<p>Of the two persons to whom your inquiries relate, my own daughter is
+considerably superior in capacity to the one her mother had before.
+Fanny, the eldest, is of a quiet, modest, unshowy disposition,
+somewhat given to indolence, which is her greatest fault, but sober,
+observing, peculiarly clear and distinct in the faculty of memory, and
+disposed to exercise her own thoughts and follow her own judgment.
+Mary, my daughter, is the reverse of her in many particulars. She is
+singularly bold, somewhat imperious, and active of mind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> Her desire
+of knowledge is great, and her perseverance in everything she
+undertakes almost invincible. My own daughter is, I believe, very
+pretty. Fanny is by no means handsome, but, in general, prepossessing.</p></div>
+
+<p>On the 3d of June Mary accompanied Christy back to Dundee, where she
+remained for the next ten months.</p>
+
+<p>No account remains of her life there, but there can be doubt that her
+mental and intellectual powers matured rapidly, and that she learned,
+read, and thought far more than is common even with clever girls of her
+age. The girl who at seventeen is an intellectual companion for a Shelley
+cannot often have needed to be &#8220;excited to industry,&#8221; unless indeed when
+she indulged in day-dreams, as, from her own account given in the preface
+to her novel of <i>Frankenstein</i>, we know she sometimes did. Proud of her
+parentage, idolising the memory of her mother, about whom she gathered and
+treasured every scrap of information she could obtain, and of whose
+history and writings she probably now learned more than she had done at
+home, accustomed from her childhood to the daily society of authors and
+literary men, the pen was her earliest toy, and now the attempt at
+original composition was her chosen occupation.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;As a child,&#8221; she says, &#8220;I scribbled; and my favourite pastime, during
+the hours given me for recreation, was to &#8216;write stories.&#8217; Still I had
+a dearer pleasure than this, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> was the formation of castles in
+the air,&mdash;the indulging in waking dreams,&mdash;the following up trains of
+thought which had for their subject the formation of a succession of
+imaginary incidents. My dreams were at once more fantastic and
+agreeable than my writings. In the latter I was a close imitator,
+rather doing as others had done than putting down the suggestions of
+my own mind. What I wrote was intended at least for one other eye&mdash;my
+childhood&#8217;s companion and friend&#8221; (probably Isabel Baxter)&mdash;&#8220;but my
+dreams were all my own. I accounted for them to nobody; they were my
+refuge when annoyed, my dearest pleasure when free.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I lived principally in the country as a girl, and passed a
+considerable time in Scotland. I made occasional visits to the more
+picturesque parts; but my habitual residence was on the blank and
+dreary northern shores of the Tay, near Dundee. Blank and dreary on
+retrospection I call them; they were not so to me then. They were the
+eyry of freedom, and the pleasant region where unheeded I could
+commune with the creatures of my fancy. I wrote then, but in a most
+commonplace style. It was beneath the trees of the grounds belonging
+to our house, or on the bleak sides of the woodless mountains near,
+that my true compositions, the airy flights of my imagination, were
+born and fostered. I did not make myself the heroine of my tales. Life
+appeared to me too commonplace an affair as regarded myself. I could
+not figure to myself that romantic woes or wonderful events would ever
+be my lot; but I was not confined to my own identity, and I could
+people the hours with creations far more interesting to me, at that
+age, than my own sensations.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>From the entry in Godwin&#8217;s diary, &#8220;M. W. G. at supper,&#8221; for 30th March
+1814, we learn that Mary returned to Skinner Street on that day. She now
+resumed her place in the home circle, a very different person from the
+little Mary who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> went to Ramsgate in 1811. Although only sixteen and a
+half she was in the bloom of her girlhood, very pretty, very interesting
+in appearance, thoughtful and intelligent beyond her years. She did not
+settle down easily into her old place, and probably only realised
+gradually how much she had altered since she last lived at home. Perhaps,
+too, she saw that home in a new light. After the well-ordered, cheerful
+family life of the Baxters, the somewhat Bohemianism of Skinner Street may
+have seemed a little strange. A household with a philosopher for one of
+its heads, and a fussy, unscrupulous woman of business for the other, may
+have its amusing sides, and we have seen that it had; but it is not
+necessarily comfortable, still less sympathetic to a young and earnest
+nature, just awakening to a consciousness of the realities of life, at
+that transition stage when so much is chaotic and confusing to those who
+are beginning to think and to feel. One may well imagine that all was not
+smooth for poor Mary. Her stepmother&#8217;s jarring temperament must have
+grated on her more keenly than ever after her long absence. Years and
+anxieties did not improve Mrs. Godwin&#8217;s temper, nor bring refinement or a
+nice sense of honour to a nature singularly deficient in both. Mary must
+have had to take refuge from annoyance in day-dreams pretty frequently,
+and this was a sure and constant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> source of irritation to her stepmother.
+Jane Clairmont, wilful, rebellious, witty, and probably a good deal
+spoilt, whose subsequent conduct shows that she was utterly unamenable to
+her mother&#8217;s authority, was, at first, away at school. Fanny was the good
+angel of the house, but her persistent defence of every one attacked, and
+her determination to make the best of things and people as they were,
+seemed almost irritating to those who were smarting under daily and hourly
+little grievances. Compliance often looks like cowardice to the young and
+bold. Nor did Mary get any help from her father. A little affection and
+kindly sympathy from him would have gone a long way with her, for she
+loved him dearly. Long afterwards she alluded to his &#8220;calm, silent
+disapproval&#8221; when displeased, and to the bitter remorse and unhappiness it
+would cause her, although unspoken, and only instinctively felt by her.
+All her stepmother&#8217;s scoldings would have failed to produce a like effect.
+But Godwin, though sincerely solicitous about the children&#8217;s welfare, was
+self-concentrated, and had little real insight into character. Besides, he
+was, as usual, hampered about money matters; and when constant anxiety as
+to where to get his next loan was added to the preoccupation of
+authorship, and the unavoidable distraction of such details as reached him
+of the publishing business, he had little thought or attention to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> bestow
+on the daughter who had arrived at so critical a time of her mental and
+moral history. He welcomed her home, but then took little more notice of
+her. If she and her stepmother disagreed, Godwin, when forced to take part
+in the matter, probably found it the best policy to side with his wife.
+Yet the situation would have been worth his attention. Here was this girl,
+Mary Wollstonecraft&#8217;s daughter, who had left home a clever, unformed
+child, who had returned to it a maiden in her bloom, pretty and
+attractive, with ardour, ability, and ambition, with conscious powers that
+had not found their right use, with unsatisfied affections seeking an
+object. True, she might in time have found threads to gather up in her own
+home. But she was young, impatient, and unhappy. Mrs. Godwin was
+repellent, uncongenial, and very jealous of her. All that a daughter could
+do for Godwin seemed to be done by Fanny. When Jane came home it was on
+her that Mary was chiefly thrown for society. Her lively spirits and quick
+wit made her excellent company, and she was ready enough to make the most
+of grievances, and to head any revolt. Fanny, far more deserving of
+sisterly sympathy and far more in need of it, seemed to belong to the
+opposite camp.</p>
+
+<p>Time, kindly judicious guidance, and sustained effort on her own part
+might have cleared Mary&#8217;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> path and made things straight for her. Her
+heart was as sound and true as her intellect, but this critical time was
+rendered more dangerous, it may well be, by her knowledge of the existence
+of many theories on vexed subjects, making her feel keenly her own
+inexperience and want of a guide.</p>
+
+<p>The guide she found was one who himself had wandered till now over many
+perplexing paths, led by the light of a restless, sleepless genius, and an
+inextinguishable yearning to find, to know, to do, to be the best.</p>
+
+<p>Godwin&#8217;s diary records on the 5th of May &#8220;Shelley calls.&#8221; As far as can be
+known this was the first occasion since the dinner of the 11th of November
+1812, when Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin saw Percy Bysshe Shelley.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">April-June 1814</span></p>
+
+<p>Although she had seen Shelley only once, Mary had heard a good deal about
+him. More than two years before this time Godwin had received a letter
+from a stranger, a very young man, desirous of becoming acquainted with
+him. The writer had, it said, been under the impression that the great
+philosopher, the object of his reverential admiration, whom he now
+addressed, was one of the mighty dead. That such was not the case he had
+now learned for the first time, and the most ardent wish of his heart was
+to be admitted to the privilege of intercourse with one whom he regarded
+as &#8220;a luminary too bright for the darkness which surrounds him.&#8221; &#8220;If,&#8221; he
+concluded, &#8220;desire for universal happiness has any claim upon your
+preference, that desire I can exhibit.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Such neophytes never knelt to Godwin in vain. He did not, at first, feel
+specially interested in this one; still, the kindly tone of his reply led
+to further correspondence, in the course of which the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> new disciple, Mr.
+Percy Bysshe Shelley, gave Godwin a sketch of the events of his past life.
+Godwin learned that his correspondent was the son of a country squire in
+Sussex, was heir to a baronetcy and a considerable fortune; that he had
+been expelled from Oxford for publishing, and refusing to deny the
+authorship of, a pamphlet called &#8220;The Necessity of Atheism&#8221;; that his
+father, having no sympathy either with his literary tastes or speculative
+views, and still less with his method of putting the latter in practice,
+had required from him certain concessions and promises which he had
+declined to make, and so had been cast off by his family, his father
+refusing to communicate with him, except through a solicitor, allowing him
+a sum barely enough for his own wants, and that professedly to &#8220;prevent
+his cheating strangers.&#8221; That, undeterred by all this, he had, at
+nineteen, married a woman three years younger, whose &#8220;pursuits, hopes,
+fears, and sorrows&#8221; had been like his own; and that he hoped to devote his
+life and powers to the regeneration of mankind and society.</p>
+
+<p>There was something remarkable about these letters, something that bespoke
+a mind, ill-balanced it might be, but yet of no common order. Whatever the
+worth of the writer&#8217;s opinions, there could be no doubt that he had the
+gift of eloquence in their expression. Half interested<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> and half amused,
+with a vague perception of Shelley&#8217;s genius, and a certain instinctive
+deference of which he could not divest himself towards the heir to &pound;6000 a
+year, Godwin continued the correspondence with a frequency and an
+unreserve most flattering to the younger man.</p>
+
+<p>Not long after this, the disciple announced that he had gone off, with his
+wife and her sister, to Ireland, for the avowed purpose of forwarding the
+Catholic Emancipation and the Repeal of the Union. His scheme was &#8220;the
+organisation of a society whose institution shall serve as a bond to its
+members for the purposes of virtue, happiness, liberty, and wisdom, by the
+means of intellectual opposition to grievances.&#8221; He published and
+distributed an &#8220;Address to the Irish People,&#8221; setting before them their
+grievances, their rights, and their duties.</p>
+
+<p>This object Godwin regarded as an utter mistake, its practical furtherance
+as extremely perilous. Dreading the contagion of excitement, its tendency
+to prevent sober judgment and promote precipitate action, he condemned
+associations of men for any public purpose whatever. His calm temperament
+would fain have dissevered impulse and action altogether as cause and
+effect, and he had a shrinking, constitutional as well as philosophic,
+from any tendency to &#8220;strike while the iron is hot.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>&#8220;The thing most to be desired,&#8221; he wrote,
+&#8220;is to keep up the intellectual, and in some sense the solitary fermentation, and to procrastinate the
+contact and consequent action.&#8221; &#8220;Shelley! you are preparing a scene of
+blood,&#8221; was his solemn warning.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing could have been further from Shelley&#8217;s thoughts than such a scene.
+Surprised and disappointed, he ingenuously confessed to Godwin that his
+association scheme had grown out of notions of political justice, first
+generated by Godwin&#8217;s own book on that subject; and the mentor found
+himself in the position of an involuntary illustration of his own theory,
+expressed in the <i>Enquirer</i> (Essay XX), &#8220;It is by no means impossible that
+the books most pernicious in their effects that ever were produced, were
+written with intentions uncommonly elevated and pure.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Shelley, animated by an ardent enthusiasm of humanity, looked to
+association as likely to spread a contagion indeed, but a contagion of
+good. The revolution he preached was a Millennium.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>If you are convinced of the truth of your cause, trust wholly to its
+truth; if you are not convinced, give it up. In no case employ
+violence; the way to liberty and happiness is never to transgress the
+rules of virtue and justice.</p>
+
+<p>Before anything can be done with effect, habits of sobriety,
+regularity, and thought must be entered into and firmly resolved on.</p>
+
+<p>I will repeat, that virtue and wisdom are necessary to true happiness
+and liberty.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>Before the restraints of government are lessened, it is fit that we
+should lessen the necessity for them. Before government is done away
+with, we must reform ourselves. It is this work which I would
+earnestly recommend to you. O Irishmen, reform yourselves.<a name='fna_1' id='fna_1' href='#f_1'><small>[1]</small></a></p></div>
+
+<p>Whatever evil results Godwin may have apprehended from Shelley&#8217;s
+proceedings, these sentiments taken in the abstract could not but enlist
+his sympathies to some extent on behalf of the deluded young optimist, nor
+did he keep the fact a secret. Shelley&#8217;s letters, as well as the Irish
+pamphlet, were eagerly read and discussed by all the young philosophers of
+Skinner Street.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You cannot imagine,&#8221; Godwin wrote to him, &#8220;how much all the females of my
+family&mdash;Mrs. Godwin and three daughters&mdash;are interested in your letters
+and your history.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Publicly propounded, however, Shelley&#8217;s sentiments proved insufficiently
+attractive to those to whom they were addressed. At a public meeting where
+he had ventured to enjoin on Catholics a tolerance so universal as to
+embrace not only Jews, Turks, and Infidels, but Protestants also, he
+narrowly escaped being mobbed. It was borne in upon him before long that
+the possibility, under existing conditions, of realising his scheme for
+associations of peace and virtue, was doubtful and distant. He abandoned
+his intention and left Ireland, professedly in submission to Godwin, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
+in fact convinced by what he had seen. Godwin was delighted.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now I can call you a friend,&#8221; he wrote, and the good understanding of the
+two was cemented.</p>
+
+<p>After repeated but fruitless invitations from the Shelleys to the whole
+Godwin party to come and stay with them in Wales, Godwin, early in the
+autumn of this year (1812) actually made an expedition to Lynmouth, where
+his unknown friends were staying, in the hope of effecting a personal
+acquaintance, but his object was frustrated, the Shelleys having left the
+place just before he arrived.</p>
+
+<p>They first met in London, in the month of October, and frequent, almost
+daily intercourse took place between the families. On the last day of
+their stay in town the Shelleys, with Eliza Westbrook, dined in Skinner
+Street. Mary Godwin, who had been for five months past in Scotland, had
+returned, as we know, with Christy Baxter the day before, and was, no
+doubt, very glad not to miss this opportunity of seeing the interesting
+young reformer of whom she had heard so much. His wife he had always
+spoken of as one who shared his tastes and opinions. No doubt they all
+thought her a fortunate woman, and Mary in after years would well recall
+her smiling face, and pink and white complexion, and her purple satin
+gown.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>During the year and a half that had elapsed since that time Mary had been
+chiefly away, and had heard little if anything of Shelley. In the spring
+of 1814, however, he came up to town to see her father on
+business,&mdash;business in which Godwin was deeply and solely concerned, about
+which he was desperately anxious, and in which Mary knew that Shelley was
+doing all in his power to help him. These matters had been going on for
+some time, when, on the 5th of May, he came to Skinner Street, and Mary
+and he renewed acquaintance. Both had altered since the last time they
+met. Mary, from a child had grown into a young, attractive, and
+interesting girl. Hers was not the sweet sensuous loveliness of her
+mother, but with her well-shaped head and intellectual brow, her fine fair
+hair and liquid hazel eyes, and a skin and complexion of singular
+whiteness and purity, she possessed beauty of a rare and refined type. She
+was somewhat below the medium height; very graceful, with drooping
+shoulders and swan-like throat. The serene eloquent eyes contrasted with a
+small mouth, indicative of a certain reserve of temperament, which, in
+fact, always distinguished her, and beneath which those who did not know
+her might not have suspected her vigour of intellect and fearlessness of
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley, too, was changed; why, was in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> case not so evident. Mary
+would have heard how, just before her return home, he had been remarried
+to his wife; Godwin, the opponent of matrimony, having, mysteriously
+enough, been instrumental in procuring the licence for this superfluous
+ceremony; superfluous, as the parties had been quite legally married in
+Scotland three years before. His wife was not now with him in London. He
+was alone, and appeared saddened in aspect, ailing in health, unsettled
+and anxious in mind. It was impossible that Mary should not observe him
+with interest. She saw that, although so young a man, he not only could
+hold his own in discussion of literary, philosophical, or political
+questions with the wisest heads and deepest thinkers of his generation,
+but could throw new light on every subject he touched. His glowing
+imagination transfigured and idealised what it dwelt on, while his magical
+words seemed to recreate whatever he described. She learned that he was a
+poet. His conversation would call up her old day-dreams again, though,
+before it, they paled and faded like morning mists before the sun. She
+saw, too, that his disposition was most amiable, his manners gentle, his
+conversation absolutely free from suspicion of coarseness, and that he was
+a disinterested and devoted friend.</p>
+
+<p>Before long she must have become conscious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> that he took pleasure in
+talking with her. She could not but see that, while his melancholy and
+disquiet grew upon him every day, she possessed the power of banishing it
+for the time. Her presence illumined him; life and hopeful enthusiasm
+would flash anew from him if she was by. This intercourse stimulated all
+her intellectual powers, and its first effect was to increase her already
+keen desire of knowledge. To keep pace with the electric mind of this
+companion required some effort on her part, and she applied herself with
+renewed zeal to her studies. Nothing irritated her stepmother so much as
+to see her deep in a book, and in order to escape from Mrs. Godwin&#8217;s petty
+persecution Mary used, whenever she could, to transport herself and her
+occupations to Old St. Pancras Churchyard, where she had been in the habit
+of coming to visit her mother&#8217;s grave. There, under the shade of a willow
+tree, she would sit, book in hand, and sometimes read, but not always. The
+day-dreams of Dundee would now and again return upon her. How long she
+seemed to have lived since that time! Life no longer seemed &#8220;so
+commonplace an affair,&#8221; nor yet her own part in it so infinitesimal if
+Shelley thought her conversation and companionship worth the having.</p>
+
+<p>Before very long he had found out the secret of her retreat, and used to
+meet her there. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> revered the memory of Mary Wollstonecraft, and her
+grave was to him a consecrated shrine of which her daughter was the
+priestess.</p>
+
+<p>By June they had become intimate friends, though Mary was still ignorant
+of the secret of his life.</p>
+
+<p>On the 8th of June occurred the meeting described by Hogg in his <i>Life of
+Shelley</i>. The two friends were walking through Skinner Street when Shelley
+said to Hogg, &#8220;I must speak with Godwin; come in, I will not detain you
+long.&#8221; Hogg continues&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>I followed him through the shop, which was the only entrance, and
+upstairs we entered a room on the first floor; it was shaped like a
+quadrant. In the arc were windows; in one radius a fireplace, and in
+the other a door, and shelves with many old books. William Godwin was
+not at home. Bysshe strode about the room, causing the crazy floor of
+the ill-built, unowned dwelling-house to shake and tremble under his
+impatient footsteps. He appeared to be displeased at not finding the
+fountain of Political Justice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where is Godwin?&#8221; he asked me several times, as if I knew. I did not
+know, and, to say the truth, I did not care. He continued his uneasy
+promenade; and I stood reading the names of old English authors on the
+backs of the venerable volumes, when the door was partially and softly
+opened. A thrilling voice called &#8220;Shelley!&#8221; A thrilling voice answered
+&#8220;Mary!&#8221; and he darted out of the room, like an arrow from the bow of
+the far-shooting king. A very young female, fair and fair-haired, pale
+indeed, and with a piercing look, wearing a frock of tartan, an
+unusual dress in London at that time, had called him out of the room.
+He was absent a very short time, a minute or two, and then returned.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>&#8220;Godwin is out,
+there is no use in waiting.&#8221; So we continued our walk along Holborn.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who was that, pray?&#8221; I asked, &#8220;a daughter?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A daughter of William Godwin?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The daughter of Godwin and Mary.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>Hogg asked no more questions, but something in this momentary interview
+and in the look of the fair-haired girl left an impression on his mind
+which he did not at once forget.</p>
+
+<p>Godwin was all this time seeking and encouraging Shelley&#8217;s visits. He was
+in feverish distress for money, bankruptcy was hanging over his head; and
+Shelley was exerting all his energies and influence to raise a large sum,
+it is said as much as &pound;3000, for him. It is a melancholy fact that the
+philosopher had got to regard those who, in the thirsty search for truth
+and knowledge, had attached themselves to him, in the secondary light of
+possible sources of income, and, when in difficulties, he came upon them
+one after another for loans or advances of money, which, at first begged
+for as a kindness, came to be claimed by him almost as a right.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley&#8217;s own affairs were in a most unsatisfactory state. &pound;200 a year
+from his father, and as much from his wife&#8217;s father was all he had to
+depend upon, and his unsettled life and frequent journeys, generous
+disposition and careless ways, made fearful inroads on his narrow income,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>notwithstanding the fact that he lived with Spartan frugality as far as
+his own habits were concerned. Little as he had, he never knew how little
+it was nor how far it would go, and, while he strained every nerve to save
+from ruin one whom he still considered his intellectual father, he was
+himself sorely hampered by want of money.</p>
+
+<p>Visits to lawyers by Godwin, Shelley, or both, were of increasingly
+frequent occurrence during May; in June we learn of as many as two or
+three in a day. While this was going on, Shelley, the forlorn hope of
+Skinner Street, could not be lost sight of. If he seemed to find pleasure
+in Mary&#8217;s society, this probably flattered Mary&#8217;s father, who, though
+really knowing little of his child, was undoubtedly proud of her, her
+beauty, and her promise of remarkable talent. Like other fathers, he
+thought of her as a child, and, had there been any occasion for suspicion
+or remark, the fact of Shelley&#8217;s being a married man with a lovely wife,
+would take away any excuse for dwelling on it. The Shelleys had not been
+favourites with Mrs. Godwin, who, the year before, had offended or chosen
+to quarrel with Harriet Shelley. The respective husbands had succeeded in
+smoothing over the difficulty, which was subsequently ignored. No love was
+lost, however, between the Shelleys and the head of the firm of M. J.
+Godwin &amp; Co., who, however, was not now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> likely to do or say anything
+calculated to drive from the house one who, for the present, was its sole
+chance of existence.</p>
+
+<p>From the 20th of June until the end of the month Shelley was at Skinner
+Street every day, often to dinner.</p>
+
+<p>By that time he and Mary had realised, only too well, the depth of their
+mutual feeling, and on some one day, what day we do not know, they owned
+it to each other. His history was poured out to her, not as it appears in
+the cold impartial light of after years perhaps, but as he felt it then,
+aching and smarting from life&#8217;s fresh wounds and stings. She heard of his
+difficulties, his rebuffs, his mistakes in action, his disappointments in
+friendship, his fruitless sacrifices for what he held to be the truth; his
+hopes and his hopelessness, his isolation of soul and his craving for
+sympathy. She guessed, for he was still silent on this point, that he
+found it not in his home. She faced her feelings then; they were past
+mistake. But it never occurred to her mind that there was any possible
+future but a life&#8217;s separation to souls so situated. She could be his
+friend, never anything more to him.</p>
+
+<p>As a memento of that interview Shelley gave or sent her a copy of <i>Queen
+Mab</i>, his first published poem. This book (still in existence) has,
+written in pencil inside the cover, the name<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> &#8220;Mary Wollstonecraft
+Godwin,&#8221; and, on the inner flyleaf, the words, &#8220;You see, Mary, I have not
+forgotten you.&#8221; Under the printed dedication to his wife is the enigmatic
+but suggestive remark, carefully written in ink, &#8220;Count Slobendorf was
+about to marry a woman, who, attracted solely by his fortune, proved her
+selfishness by deserting him in prison.&#8221;<a name='fna_2' id='fna_2' href='#f_2'><small>[2]</small></a> On the flyleaves at the end
+Mary wrote in July 1814&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>This book is sacred to me, and as no other creature shall ever look
+into it, I may write what I please. Yet what shall I write? That I
+love the author beyond all powers of expression, and that I am parted
+from him. Dearest and only love, by that love we have promised to each
+other, although I may not be yours, I can never be another&#8217;s. But I am
+thine, exclusively thine.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">By the kiss of love, the glance none saw beside,<br />
+The smile none else might understand,<br />
+The whispered thought of hearts allied,<br />
+The pressure of the thrilling hand.<a name='fna_3' id='fna_3' href='#f_3'><small>[3]</small></a></p>
+
+<p>I have pledged myself to thee, and sacred is the gift. I remember your
+words. &#8220;You are now, Mary, going to mix with many, and for a moment I
+shall depart, but in the solitude of your chamber I shall be with
+you.&#8221; Yes, you are ever with me, sacred vision.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">But ah! I feel in this was given<br />
+A blessing never meant for me,<br />
+Thou art too like a dream from heaven<br />
+For earthly love to merit thee.<a name='fna_4' id='fna_4' href='#f_4'><small>[4]</small></a></p></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>With this mutual consciousness, yet obliged inevitably to meet, thrown
+constantly in each other&#8217;s way, Mary obliged too to look on Shelley as her
+father&#8217;s benefactor and support, their situation was a miserable one. As
+for Shelley, when he had once broken silence he passed rapidly from tender
+affection to the most passionate love. His heart and brain were alike on
+fire, for at the root of his deep depression and unsettlement lay the
+fact, known as yet only to himself, of complete estrangement between
+himself and his wife.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">June-August 1814</span></p>
+
+<p>Perhaps of all the objects of Shelley&#8217;s devotion up to this time, Harriet,
+his wife, was the only one with whom he had never, in the ideal sense,
+been in love. Possibly this was one reason that against her alone he never
+had the violent revulsion, almost amounting to loathing, which was the
+usual reaction after his other passionate illusions. He had eloped with
+her when they were but boy and girl because he found her ready to elope
+with him, and because he was persuaded that she was a victim of tyranny
+and oppression, which, to this modern knight-errant, was tantamount to an
+obligation laid on him to rescue her. Having eloped with her, he had
+married her, for her sake, and from a sense of chivalry, only with a
+quaint sort of apology to his friend Hogg for this early departure from
+his own principles and those of the philosophic writers who had helped to
+mould his views. His affection for his wife<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> had steadily increased after
+their marriage; she was fond of him and satisfied with her lot, and had
+made things very easy for him. She could not give him anything very deep
+in the way of love, but in return she was not very exacting; accommodating
+herself with good humour to all his vagaries, his changes of mood and
+plan, and his romantic friendships. Even the presence of her elder sister
+Eliza, who at an early period established herself as a member of their
+household, did not destroy although it did not add to their peace. It was
+during their stay in Scotland, in 1813, that the first shadow arose
+between them, and from this time Harriet seems to have changed. She became
+cold and indifferent. During the next winter, when they lived at
+Bracknell, she grew frivolous and extravagant, even yielding to habits of
+self-indulgence most repugnant to one so abstemious as Shelley. He, on his
+part, was more and more drawn away from the home which had become
+uncongenial by the fascinating society of his brilliant, speculative
+friend, Mrs. Boinville (the white-haired &#8220;Maimuna&#8221;), her daughter and
+sister. They were kind and encouraging to him, and their whole circle was
+cheerful, genial, and intellectual. This intimacy tended to widen the
+breach between husband and wife, while supplying none of the moral help
+which might have braced Shelley<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> to meet his difficulty. His letters and
+the stanza addressed to Mrs. Boinville<a name='fna_5' id='fna_5' href='#f_5'><small>[5]</small></a> show the profound depression
+under which he laboured in April and May. His pathetic poem to Harriet,
+written in May, expresses only too plainly what he suffered from her
+alienation, and also his keen consciousness of the moral dangers that
+threatened him from the loosening of old ties, if left to himself
+unsupported by sympathy at home. But such feeling as Harriet had was at
+this time quite blunted. She had treated his unsettled depression and
+gloomy abstraction as coldness and sullen discontent, and met them with
+careless unconcern. Always a puppet in the hands of some one stronger than
+herself, she was encouraged by her elder sister, &#8220;the ever-present Eliza,&#8221;
+the object of Shelley&#8217;s abhorrence, to meet any want of attention on his
+part by this attitude of indifference; presumably on the assumption that
+men do not care for what they can have cheaply, and that the best way for
+a wife to keep a husband&#8217;s affection is to show herself independent of it.
+Good-humoured and shallow, easy-going and fond of amusement, she probably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
+yielded to these counsels without difficulty. She was much admired by
+other men, and accepted their admiration willingly. From evidence which
+came to light not many years later, it appears Shelley thought he had
+reason to believe she had been misled by one of these admirers, and that
+he became aware of this in June 1814. No word of it was breathed by him at
+the time, and the painful story might never have been divulged but for
+subsequent events which dragged into publicity circumstances which he
+intended should be buried in oblivion. This is not a life of Shelley, and
+the evidence of all this matter,&mdash;such evidence, that is, as has escaped
+destruction,&mdash;must be looked for elsewhere. In the lawsuit which he
+undertook after Harriet&#8217;s death to obtain possession of his children by
+her, he was content to state, &#8220;I was united to a woman of whom delicacy
+forbids me to say more than that we were disunited by incurable
+dissensions.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>That time only confirmed his conviction of 1814 is clearly proved by his
+letter, written six years afterwards, to Southey, who had accused him of
+guilt towards both his first and second wives.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">I take God to witness, if such a Being is now regarding both you and
+me, and I pledge myself if we meet, as perhaps you expect, before Him
+after death, to repeat the same in His presence, that you accuse me
+wrongfully. I am innocent of ill, either done or intended, the
+consequences you allude to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> flowed in no respect from me. If you were
+my friend, I could tell you a history that would make you open your
+eyes, but I shall certainly never make the public my familiar
+confidant.</p>
+
+<p>It is quite certain that in June 1814 Shelley, who had for months found
+his wife heartless, became convinced that she had also been faithless. A
+breach of the marriage vow was not, now or at any other time, regarded by
+him in the light of a heinous or unpardonable sin. Like his master Godwin,
+who held that right and wrong in these matters could only be decided by
+the circumstances of each individual case, he considered the vow itself to
+be the mistake, superfluous where it was based on mutual affection,
+tyrannic or false where it was not. Nor did he recognise two different
+laws, for men and for women, in these respects. His subsequent relations
+with Harriet show that, deeply as she had wounded him, he did not consider
+her criminally in fault. Could she indeed be blamed for applying in her
+own way the dangerous principles of which she had heard so much? But she
+had ceased to care for him, and the death of mutual love argued, to his
+mind, the loosening of the tie. He had been faithful to her; her
+faithlessness cut away the ground from under his feet and left him
+defenceless against a new affection.</p>
+
+<p>No wonder that when his friend Peacock went, by his request, to call on
+him in London, he</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>showed in his looks, in his gestures, in his speech, the state of a
+mind, &#8220;suffering like a little kingdom, the nature of an
+insurrection.&#8221; His eyes were bloodshot, his hair and dress disordered.
+He caught up a bottle of laudanum and said, &#8220;I never part from this!&#8221;
+He added, &#8220;I am always repeating to myself your lines from Sophocles&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">Man&#8217;s happiest lot is not to be,<br />
+And when we tread life&#8217;s thorny steep<br />
+Most blest are they, who, earliest free,<br />
+Descend to death&#8217;s eternal sleep.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>Harriet had been absent for some time at Bath, but now, growing anxious at
+the rarity of news from her husband, she wrote up to Hookham, his
+publisher, entreating to know what had become of him, and where he was.</p>
+
+<p>Godwin, who called at Hookham&#8217;s the next day, heard of this letter, and
+began at last to awaken to the consciousness that something he did not
+understand was going on between Shelley and his daughter. It is strange
+that Mrs. Godwin, a shrewd and suspicious woman, should not before now
+have called his attention to the fact. His diary for 8th July records a
+&#8220;Talk with Mary.&#8221; What passed has not transpired. Probably Godwin
+&#8220;restricted himself to uttering his censures with seriousness and
+emphasis,&#8221;<a name='fna_6' id='fna_6' href='#f_6'><small>[6]</small></a> probably Mary said little of any sort.</p>
+
+<p>On the 14th of July Harriet Shelley came up to town, summoned thither by a
+letter from her husband. He informed her of his determination<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> to
+separate, and of his intention to take immediate measures securing her a
+sufficient income for her support. He fully expected that Harriet would
+willingly concur in this arrangement, but she did no such thing; perhaps
+she did not believe he would carry it out. She never at any time took life
+seriously; she looked on the rupture between herself and Shelley as
+trivial and temporary, and had no wish to make it otherwise. Godwin called
+on her two or three times; he was aware of the estrangement, and probably
+hoped by argument and discussion to restore matters to their old footing
+and bring peace and equanimity to his own household. But although Harriet
+was quite aware of Shelley&#8217;s love for Godwin&#8217;s daughter, and knew, too,
+that deeds were being prepared to assure her own separate maintenance, she
+said nothing to Godwin, nor did her family give him any hint. The
+impending elopement, with all its consequences to Godwin, were within her
+power to prevent, but she allowed matters to take their course. Godwin,
+evidently very uncomfortable, chronicles a &#8220;Talk with P. B. S.,&#8221; and, on
+22d July, a &#8220;Talk with Jane.&#8221; But circumstances moved faster than he
+expected, and these many talks and discussions and complicated moves and
+counter-moves only made the position intolerable, and precipitated the
+final crisis. Towards the close of that month Shelley&#8217;s confession was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
+wrung from him: he told Mary the whole truth, and how, though legally
+bound, he held himself morally free to offer himself to her if she would
+be his.</p>
+
+<p>To her, passionately devoted to the one man who was and was ever to remain
+the sun and centre of her existence, the thought of a wife indifferent to
+him, hard to him, false to him, was sacrilege; it was torture. She had not
+been brought up to look on marriage as a divine institution; she had
+probably never even heard it discussed but on grounds of expediency.
+Harriet was his legal wife, so he could not marry Mary, but what of that,
+after all? if there was a sacrifice in her power to make for him, was not
+that the greatest joy, the greatest honour that life could have in store
+for her?</p>
+
+<p>That her father would openly condemn her she knew, for she must have known
+that Godwin&#8217;s practice did not move on the same lofty plane as his
+principles. Was he not at that moment making himself debtor to a man whose
+integrity he doubted? Had he not, in twice marrying, taken care to
+proclaim, both to his friends and the public, that he did so <i>in spite</i> of
+his opinions, which remained unchanged and unretracted, until some
+inconvenient application of them forced from him an expression of
+disapproval?</p>
+
+<p>Her mother too, had she not held that ties<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> which were dead should be
+buried? and though not, like Godwin, condemning marriage as an
+institution, had she not been twice induced to form a connection which in
+one instance never was, in the other was not for some time consecrated by
+law? Who was Mary herself, that she should withstand one whom she felt to
+be the best as well as the cleverest man she had ever known? To talent she
+had been accustomed all her life, but here she saw something different,
+and what of all things calls forth most ardent response from a young and
+pure-minded girl, <i>a genius for goodness</i>; an aspiration and devotion such
+as she had dreamed of but never known, with powers which seemed to her
+absolutely inspired. She loved him, and she appreciated him,&mdash;as time
+abundantly showed,&mdash;rightly. She conceived that she wronged by her action
+no one but herself, and she did not hesitate. She pledged her heart and
+hand to Shelley for life, and she did not disappoint him, nor he her.</p>
+
+<p>To the end of their lives, tried as they were to be by every kind of
+trouble, neither one nor the other ever repented the step they now took,
+nor modified their opinion of the grounds on which they took it. How
+Shelley regarded it in after years we have already seen. Mary, writing
+during her married life, when her judgment had been matured and her
+youthful buoyancy of spirit only too well sobered by stern and bitter
+experience, can find no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> harder name for it than &#8220;an imprudence.&#8221; Many
+years after, in 1825, alluding to Shelley&#8217;s separation from Harriet, she
+remarks, &#8220;His justification is, to me, obvious.&#8221; And at a later date
+still, when she had been seventeen years a widow, she wrote in the preface
+to her edition of Shelley&#8217;s <i>Poems</i>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">I abstain from any remark on the occurrences of his private life,
+except inasmuch as the passions they engendered inspired his poetry.
+This is not the time to relate the truth, and I should reject any
+colouring of the truth. No account of these events has ever been given
+at all approaching reality in their details, either as regards himself
+or others; nor shall I further allude to them than to remark that the
+errors of action committed by a man as noble and generous as Shelley,
+may, as far as he only is concerned, be fearlessly avowed by those who
+loved him, in the firm conviction that, were they judged impartially,
+his character would stand in fairer and brighter light than that of
+any contemporary.</p>
+
+<p>But they never &#8220;made the public their familiar confidant.&#8221; They screened
+the erring as far as it was in their power to do so, although their
+reticence cost them dear, for it lent a colouring of probability to the
+slanders and misconstruction of all kinds which it was their constant fate
+to endure for others&#8217; sake, which pursued them to their lives&#8217; end, and
+beyond it.</p>
+
+<p>Life, which is to no one what he expects, had many clouds for them. Mary&#8217;s
+life reached its zenith too suddenly, and with happiness came care in
+undue proportion. The future of intellectual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> expansion and creation which
+might have been hers was not to be fully realised, but perfections of
+character she might never have attained developed themselves as her nature
+was mellowed and moulded by time and by suffering.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley&#8217;s rupture with his first wife marks the end of his boyhood. Up to
+that time, thanks to his poetic temperament, his were the strong and
+simple, but passing impulses and feelings of a child. &#8220;A being of large
+discourse&#8221; he assuredly was, but not as yet &#8220;looking before and after.&#8221;
+Now he was to acquire the doubtful blessing of that faculty. Like Undine
+when she became endued with a soul, he gained an immeasurable good, while
+he lost a something that never returned.</p>
+
+<p>Early in the morning of 28th July 1814 Mary Godwin secretly left her
+father&#8217;s house, accompanied by Jane Clairmont, and they started with
+Shelley in a post-chaise for Dover.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">August 1814-January 1816</span></p>
+
+<p>From the day of their departure a joint journal was kept by Shelley and
+Mary, which tells their subsequent adventures and vicissitudes with the
+utmost candour and <i>na&iuml;vet&eacute;</i>. A great deal of the earlier portion is
+written by Shelley, but after a time Mary becomes the principal diarist,
+and the latter part is almost entirely hers. Its account of their first
+wanderings in France and Switzerland was put into narrative form by her
+two or three years later, and published under the title <i>Journal of a Six
+Weeks&#8217; Tour</i>. But the transparent simplicity of the journal is invaluable,
+and carries with it an absolute conviction which no studied account can
+emulate or improve upon. Considerable portions are, therefore, given in
+their entirety.</p>
+
+<p>That 28th of July was a hotter day than had been known in England for many
+years. Between the sultry heat and exhaustion from the excitement<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> and
+conflicting emotions of the last days, poor Mary was completely overcome.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;The heat made her faint,&#8221; wrote Shelley, &#8220;it was necessary at every
+stage that she should repose. I was divided between anxiety for her
+health and terror lest our pursuers should arrive. I reproached myself
+with not allowing her sufficient time to rest, with conceiving any
+evil so great that the slightest portion of her comfort might be
+sacrificed to avoid it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;At Dartford we took four horses, that we might outstrip pursuit. We
+arrived at Dover before four o&#8217;clock.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;On arriving at Dover,&#8221; writes Mary,<a name='fna_7' id='fna_7' href='#f_7'><small>[7]</small></a> &#8220;I was refreshed by a
+sea-bath. As we very much wished to cross the Channel with all
+possible speed, we would not wait for the packet of the following day
+(it being then about four in the afternoon), but hiring a small boat,
+resolved to make the passage the same evening, the seamen promising us
+a voyage of two hours.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The evening was most beautiful; there was but little wind, and the
+sails flapped in the flagging breeze; the moon rose, and night came
+on, and with the night a slow, heavy swell and a fresh breeze, which
+soon produced a sea so violent as to toss the boat very much. I was
+dreadfully sea-sick, and, as is usually my custom when thus affected,
+I slept during the greater part of the night, awaking only from time
+to time to ask where we were, and to receive the dismal answer each
+time, &#8216;Not quite halfway.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The wind was violent and contrary; if we could not reach Calais the
+sailors proposed making for Boulogne. They promised only two hours&#8217;
+sail from shore, yet hour after hour passed, and we were still far
+distant, when the moon sunk in the red and stormy horizon and the
+fast-flashing lightning became pale in the breaking day.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We were proceeding slowly against the wind, when suddenly a thunder
+squall struck the sail, and the waves rushed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>into the boat: even the
+sailors acknowledged that our situation was perilous; but they
+succeeded in reefing the sail; the wind was now changed, and we drove
+before the gale directly to Calais.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><i>Journal</i> (Shelley).&mdash;Mary did not know our danger; she was resting
+between my knees, that were unable to support her; she did not speak
+or look, but I felt that she was there. I had time in that moment to
+reflect, and even to reason upon death; it was rather a thing of
+discomfort and disappointment than horror to me. We should never be
+separated, but in death we might not know and feel our union as now. I
+hope, but my hopes are not unmixed with fear for what may befall this
+inestimable spirit when we appear to die.</p>
+
+<p>The morning broke, the lightning died away, the violence of the wind
+abated. We arrived at Calais, whilst Mary still slept; we drove upon
+the sands. Suddenly the broad sun rose over France.</p></div>
+
+<p>Godwin&#8217;s diary for 28th July runs,</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;<i>Five in the morning.</i> M. J. for Dover.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Godwin, in fact, started in pursuit of the fugitives as soon as they
+were missed. Neither Shelley nor Mary were the objects of her anxiety, but
+her own daughter. Jane Clairmont, who cared no more for her mother than
+she did for any one else, had guessed Mary&#8217;s secret or insinuated herself
+into her confidence some time before the final <i>d&eacute;nouement</i> of the
+love-affair. Wild and wayward, ready for anything in the shape of a
+romantic adventure, and longing for freedom from the restraints of home,
+she had sympathised with, and perhaps helped Shelley and Mary. She was in
+no wise anxious to be left to mope alone, nor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> to be exposed to
+cross-questioning she could ill have met. She claimed to escape with them
+as a return for her good offices, and whatever Mary may have thought or
+wished, Shelley was not one to leave her behind &#8220;in slavery.&#8221; Mrs. Godwin
+arrived at Calais by the very packet the fugitives had refused to wait
+for.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal</i> (Shelley).&mdash;In the evening Captain Davidson came and told us
+that a fat lady had arrived who said I had run away with her daughter;
+it was Mrs. Godwin. Jane spent the night with her mother.</p>
+
+<p><i>July 30.</i>&mdash;Jane informs us that she is unable to withstand the pathos
+of Mrs. Godwin&#8217;s appeal. She appealed to the Municipality of Paris, to
+past slavery and to future freedom. I counselled her to take at least
+half an hour for consideration. She returned to Mrs. Godwin and
+informed her that she resolved to continue with us.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Godwin departed without answering a word.</p></div>
+
+<p>It is difficult to understand how this mother had so little authority over
+her own girl of sixteen. She might rule Godwin, but she evidently could
+not influence, far less rule her daughter. Shelley&#8217;s influence, as far as
+it was exerted at all, was used in favour of Jane&#8217;s remaining with them,
+and he paid dearly in after years for the heavy responsibility he now
+assumed.</p>
+
+<p>The travellers proceeded to Paris, where they were obliged to remain
+longer than they intended, finding themselves so absolutely without money,
+nothing having been prearranged in their sudden flight, that Shelley had
+to sell his watch and chain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> for eight napoleons. Funds were at last
+procured through Tavernier, a French man of business, and they were free
+to put into execution the plan they had resolved upon, namely, to <i>walk</i>
+through France, buying an ass to carry their portmanteau and one of them
+by turns.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><i>Journal, August 8</i> (Mary).&mdash;Jane and Shelley go to the ass merchant;
+we buy an ass. The day spent in preparation for departure.</p>
+
+<p>Their landlady tried to dissuade them from their design.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>She represented to us that a large army had been recently disbanded,
+that the soldiers and officers wandered idle about the country, and
+that <i>les dames seroient certainement enlev&eacute;es</i>. But we were proof
+against her arguments, and, packing up a few necessaries, leaving the
+rest to go by the diligence, we departed in a <i>fiacre</i> from the door
+of the hotel, our little ass following.<a name='fna_8' id='fna_8' href='#f_8'><small>[8]</small></a></p>
+
+<p><i>Journal</i> (Mary).&mdash;We set out to Charenton in the evening, carrying
+the ass, who was weak and unfit for labour, like the Miller and his
+Son.</p>
+
+<p>We dismissed the coach at the barrier. It was dusk, and the ass seemed
+totally unable to bear one of us, appearing to sink under the
+portmanteau, though it was small and light. We were, however, merry
+enough, and thought the leagues short. We arrived at Charenton about
+ten. Charenton is prettily situated in a valley, through which the
+Seine flows, winding among banks variegated with trees. On looking at
+this scene C... (Jane) exclaimed, &#8220;Oh! this is beautiful enough; let
+us live here.&#8221; This was her exclamation on every new scene, and as
+each surpassed the one before, she <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>cried, &#8220;I am glad we did not live
+at Charenton, but let us live here.&#8221;<a name='fna_9' id='fna_9' href='#f_9'><small>[9]</small></a></p>
+
+<p><i>August 9</i> (Shelley).&mdash;We sell our ass and purchase a mule, in which
+we much resemble him who never made a bargain but always lost half.
+The day is most beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>(Mary).&mdash;About nine o&#8217;clock we departed; we were clad in black silk. I
+rode on the mule, which carried also our portmanteau. S. and C. (Jane)
+followed, bringing a small basket of provisions. At about one we
+arrived at Gros-Bois, where, under the shade of trees, we ate our
+bread and fruit, and drank our wine, thinking of Don Quixote and
+Sancho Panza.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, August 11</i> (Mary).&mdash;From Provins we came to Nogent. The
+town was entirely desolated by the Cossacks; the houses were reduced
+to heaps of white ruins, and the bridge was destroyed. Proceeding on
+our way we left the great road and arrived at St. Aubin, a beautiful
+little village situated among trees. This village was also completely
+destroyed. The inhabitants told us the Cossacks had not left one cow
+in the village. Notwithstanding the entreaties of the people, who
+eagerly desired us to stay all night, we continued our route to Trois
+Maisons, three long leagues farther, on an unfrequented road, and
+which in many places was hardly perceptible from the surrounding
+waste....</p>
+
+<p>As night approached our fears increased that we should not be able to
+distinguish the road, and Mary expressed these fears in a very
+complaining tone. We arrived at Trois Maisons at nine o&#8217;clock. Jane
+went up to the first cottage to ask our way, but was only answered by
+unmeaning laughter. We, however, discovered a kind of an <i>auberge</i>,
+where, having in some degree satisfied our hunger by milk and sour
+bread, we retired to a wretched apartment to bed. But first let me
+observe that we discovered that the inhabitants were not in the habit
+of washing themselves, either when they rose or went to bed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, August 12.</i>&mdash;We did not set out from here till eleven
+o&#8217;clock, and travelled a long league under the very eye of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> burning
+sun. Shelley, having sprained his leg, was obliged to ride all day.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, August 13</i> (Troyes).&mdash;We are disgusted with the excessive
+dirt of our habitation. Shelley goes to inquire about conveyances. He
+sells the mule for forty francs and the saddle for sixteen francs. In
+all our bargains for ass, saddle, and mule we lose more than fifteen
+napoleons. Money we can but little spare now. Jane and Shelley seek
+for a conveyance to Neufch&acirc;tel.</p></div>
+
+<p>From Troyes Shelley wrote to Harriet, expressing his anxiety for her
+welfare, and urging her in her own interests to come out to Switzerland,
+where he, who would always remain her best and most disinterested friend,
+would procure for her some sweet retreat among the mountains. He tells her
+some details of their adventures in the simplest manner imaginable; never,
+apparently, doubting for a moment but that they would interest her as much
+as they did him. Harriet, it is needless to say, did not come. Had she
+done so, she would not have found Shelley, for, as the sequel shows, he
+was back in London almost as soon as she could have got to Switzerland.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, August 14</i> (Mary).&mdash;At four in the morning we depart from
+Troyes, and proceed in the new vehicle to Vandeuvres. The village
+remains still ruined by the war. We rest at Vandeuvres two hours, but
+walk in a wood belonging to a neighbouring chateau, and sleep under
+its shade. The moss was so soft; the murmur of the wind in the leaves
+was sweeter than &AElig;olian music; we forgot that we were in France or in
+the world for a time.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><i>August 17.</i>&mdash;The <i>voiturier</i> insists upon our passing the night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> at
+the village of Mort. We go out on the rocks, and Shelley and I read
+part of <i>Mary</i>, a fiction. We return at dark, and, unable to enter the
+beds, we pass a few comfortless hours by the kitchen fireside.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, August 18.</i>&mdash;We leave Mort at four. After some hours of
+tedious travelling, through a most beautiful country, we arrive at
+No&egrave;. From the summit of one of the hills we see the whole expanse of
+the valley filled with a white, undulating mist, over which the piny
+hills pierced like islands. The sun had just risen, and a ray of the
+red light lay on the waves of this fluctuating vapour. To the west,
+opposite the sun, it seemed driven by the light against the rock in
+immense masses of foaming cloud until it becomes lost in the distance,
+mixing its tints with the fleecy sky. At No&egrave;, whilst our postillion
+waited, we walked into the forest of pines; it was a scene of
+enchantment, where every sound and sight contributed to charm.</p>
+
+<p>Our mossy seat in the deepest recesses of the wood was enclosed from
+the world by an impenetrable veil. On our return the postillion had
+departed without us; he left word that he expected to meet us on the
+road. We proceeded there upon foot to Maison Neuve, an <i>auberge</i> a
+league distant. At Maison Neuve he had left a message importing that
+he should proceed to Pontarlier, six leagues distant, and that unless
+he found us there he should return. We despatched a boy on horseback
+for him; he promised to wait for us at the next village; we walked two
+leagues in the expectation of finding him there. The evening was most
+beautiful; the horned moon hung in the light of sunset that threw a
+glow of unusual depth of redness above the piny mountains and the dark
+deep valleys which they included. At Savrine we found, according to
+our expectation, that M. le Voiturier had pursued his journey with the
+utmost speed. We engaged a <i>voiture</i> for Pontarlier. Jane very unable
+to walk. The moon becomes yellow and hangs close to the woody horizon.
+It is dark before we arrive at Pontarlier. The postillion tells many
+lies. We sleep, for the first time in France, in a clean bed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span><i>Friday, August 19.</i>&mdash;We pursue our journey towards Neufch&acirc;tel. We
+pass delightful scenes of verdure surpassing imagination; here first
+we see clear mountain streams. We pass the barrier between France and
+Switzerland, and, after descending nearly a league, between lofty
+rocks covered with pines and interspersed with green glades, where the
+grass is short and soft and beautifully verdant, we arrive at St.
+Sulpice. The mule is very lame; we determined to engage another horse
+for the remainder of the way. Our <i>voiturier</i> had determined to leave
+us, and had taken measures to that effect. The mountains after St.
+Sulpice become loftier and more beautiful. Two leagues from Neufch&acirc;tel
+we see the Alps; hill after hill is seen extending its craggy outline
+before the other, and far behind all, towering above every feature of
+the scene, the snowy Alps; they are 100 miles distant; they look like
+those accumulated clouds of dazzling white that arrange themselves on
+the horizon in summer. This immensity staggers the imagination, and so
+far surpasses all conception that it requires an effort of the
+understanding to believe that they are indeed mountains. We arrive at
+Neufch&acirc;tel and sleep.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, August 20.</i>&mdash;We consult on our situation. There are no
+letters at the <i>bureau de poste</i>; there cannot be for a week. Shelley
+goes to the banker&#8217;s, who promises an answer in two hours; at the
+conclusion of the time he sends for Shelley, and, to our astonishment
+and consolation, Shelley returns staggering under the weight of a
+large canvas bag full of silver. Shelley alone looks grave on the
+occasion, for he alone clearly apprehends that francs and &eacute;cus and
+louis d&#8217;or are like the white and flying cloud of noon, that is gone
+before one can say &#8220;Jack Robinson.&#8221; Shelley goes to secure a place in
+the diligence; they are all taken. He meets there with a Swiss who
+speaks English; this man is imbued with the spirit of true politeness.
+He endeavours to perform real services, and seems to regard the mere
+ceremonies of the affair as things of very little value. He makes a
+bargain with a <i>voiturier</i> to take us to Lucerne for eighteen &eacute;cus.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>We arrange to depart at four the next morning. Our Swiss friend
+appoints to meet us there.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, August 21.</i>&mdash;Go from Neufch&acirc;tel at six; our Swiss accompanies
+us a little way out of town. There is a mist to-day, so we cannot see
+the Alps; the drive, however, is interesting, especially in the latter
+part of the day. Shelley and Jane talk concerning Jane&#8217;s character. We
+arrive before seven at Soleure. Shelley and Mary go to the
+much-praised cathedral, and find it very modern and stupid.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, August 22.</i>&mdash;Leave Soleure at half-past five; very cold
+indeed, but we now again see the magnificent mountains of Le Valais.
+Mary is not well, and all are tired of wheeled machines. Shelley is in
+a jocosely horrible mood. We dine at Zoffingen, and sleep there two
+hours. In our drive after dinner we see the mountains of St. Gothard,
+etc. Change our plan of going over St. Gothard. Arrive tired to death;
+find at the room of the inn a horrible spinet and a case of stuffed
+birds. Sup at <i>table d&#8217;h&ocirc;te</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, August 23.</i>&mdash;We leave at four o&#8217;clock and arrive at Lucerne
+about ten. After breakfast we hire a boat to take us down the lake.
+Shelley and Mary go out to buy several needful things, and then we
+embark. It is a most divine day; the farther we advance the more
+magnificent are the shores of the lake&mdash;rock and pine forests covering
+the feet of the immense mountains. We read part of L&#8217;Abb&eacute; Barruel&#8217;s
+<i>Histoire du Jacobinisme</i>. We land at Bessen, go to the wrong inn,
+where a most comical scene ensues. We sleep at Brunnen. Before we
+sleep, however, we look out of window.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, August 24.</i>&mdash;We consult on our situation. We cannot
+procure a house; we are in despair; the filth of the apartment is
+terrible to Mary; she cannot bear it all the winter. We propose to
+proceed to Fluelen, but the wind comes from Italy, and will not
+permit. At last we find a lodging in an ugly house they call the
+Ch&acirc;teau for one louis a month, which we take; it consists of two
+rooms. Mary and Shelley walk to the shore of the lake and read the
+description of the Siege of Jerusalem in Tacitus. We come home, look
+out of window and go to bed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span><i>Thursday, August 25.</i>&mdash;We read
+Abb&eacute; Barruel. Shelley and Jane make purchases; we pack up our things and take possession of our house,
+which we have engaged for six months. Receive a visit from the
+<i>M&eacute;decin</i> and the old Abb&eacute;, whom, it must be owned, we do not treat
+with proper politeness. We arrange our apartment, and write part of
+Shelley&#8217;s romance.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, August 26.</i>&mdash;Write the romance till three o&#8217;clock. Propose
+crossing Mount St. Gothard. Determine at last to return to England;
+only wait to set off till the washerwoman brings home our linen. The
+little Frenchman arrives with tubs and plums and scissors and salt.
+The linen is not dry; we are compelled to wait until to-morrow. We
+engage a boat to take us to Lucerne at six the following morning.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, August 27.</i>&mdash;We depart at seven; it rains violently till
+just the end of our voyage. We conjecture the astonishment of the good
+people at Brunnen. We arrive at Lucerne, dine, then write a part of
+the romance, and read <i>Shakespeare</i>. Interrupted by Jane&#8217;s horrors;
+pack up. We have engaged a boat for Basle.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, August 28.</i>&mdash;Depart at six o&#8217;clock. The river is exceedingly
+beautiful; the waves break on the rocks, and the descents are steep
+and rapid. It rained the whole day. We stopped at Mettingen to dine,
+and there surveyed at our ease the horrid and slimy faces of our
+companions in voyage; our only wish was to absolutely annihilate such
+uncleanly animals, to which we might have addressed the boatman&#8217;s
+speech to Pope: &#8220;&#8217;Twere easier for God to make entirely new men than
+attempt to purify such monsters as these.&#8221; After a voyage in the rain,
+rendered disagreeable only by the presence of these loathsome
+&#8220;creepers,&#8221; we arrive, Shelley much exhausted, at Dettingen, our
+resting-place for the night.</p></div>
+
+<p>It never seems to have occurred to them before arriving in Switzerland
+that they had no money wherewith to carry out their further plans, that it
+was more difficult to obtain it abroad than at home,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> and that the
+remainder of their little store would hardly suffice to take them back to
+England. No sooner thought, however, than done. They gave themselves no
+rest after their long and arduous journey, but started straight back vi&acirc;
+the Rhine, arriving in Rotterdam on 8th September with only twenty &eacute;cus
+remaining, having been &#8220;horribly cheated.&#8221; &#8220;Make arrangements, and talk of
+many things, past, present, and to come.&#8221;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Friday, September 9.</i>&mdash;We have arranged with a captain to
+take us to England&mdash;three guineas a-piece; at three o&#8217;clock we sail,
+and in the evening arrive at Marsluys, where a bad wind obliges us to
+stay.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, September 10.</i>&mdash;We remain at Marsluys, Mary begins <i>Hate</i>,
+and gives Shelley the greater pleasure. Shelley writes part of his
+romance. Sleep at Marsluys. Wind contrary.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, September 11.</i>&mdash;The wind becomes more favourable. We hear
+that we are to sail. Mary writes more of her <i>Hate</i>. We depart, cross
+the bar; the sea is horribly tempestuous, and Mary is nearly sick, nor
+is Shelley much better. There is an easterly gale in the night which
+almost kills us, whilst it carries us nearer our journey&#8217;s end.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, September 12.</i>&mdash;It is calm; we remain on deck nearly the whole
+day. Mary recovers from her sickness. We dispute with one man upon the
+slave trade.</p></div>
+
+<p>The wanderers arrived at last at Gravesend, not only penniless, but unable
+even to pay their passage money, or to discharge the hackney coach in
+which they drove about from place to place in search of assistance. At the
+time of Shelley&#8217;s sudden flight, the deeds by which part of his income was
+transferred to Harriet were still in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>preparation only, and he had,
+without thinking of the consequences of his act, written from Switzerland
+to his bankers, directing them to honour her calls for money, as far as
+his account allowed of it. She must have availed herself so well of this
+permission that now he found he could only obtain the sum he wanted by
+applying for it to her.</p>
+
+<p>The relations between Shelley and Harriet, must, at first, have seemed to
+Mary as incomprehensible as they still do to readers of the <i>Journal</i>.
+Their interviews, necessarily very frequent in the next few months, were,
+on the whole, quite friendly. Shelley was kind and perfectly ingenuous and
+sincere; Harriet was sometimes &#8220;civil&#8221; and good tempered, sometimes cross
+and provoking. But on neither side was there any pretence of deep pain, of
+wounded pride or bitter constraint.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Tuesday, September 13.</i>&mdash;We arrive at Gravesend, and with
+great difficulty prevail on the captain to trust us. We go by boat to
+London; take a coach; call on Hookham. T. H. not at home. C. treats us
+very ill. Call at Voisey&#8217;s. Henry goes to Harriet. Shelley calls on
+her, whilst poor Mary and Jane are left in the coach for two whole
+hours. Our debt is discharged. Shelley gets clothes for himself. Go to
+Strafford Hotel, dine, and go to bed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, September 14.</i>&mdash;Talk and read the newspaper. Shelley calls
+on Harriet, who is certainly a very odd creature; he writes several
+letters; calls on Hookham, and brings home Wordsworth&#8217;s <i>Excursion</i>,
+of which we read a part, much <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>disappointed. He is a slave. Shelley
+engages lodgings, to which we remove in the evening.</p></div>
+
+<p>Shelley now lost no time in putting himself in communication with Skinner
+Street, and on the first day after they settled in their new lodgings he
+addressed a letter to Godwin.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">September 1814-May 1816</span></p>
+
+<p>Whatever may have been Godwin&#8217;s degree of responsibility for the opinions
+which had enabled Shelley to elope in all good faith with his daughter,
+and which saved her from serious scruple in eloping with Shelley, it would
+be impossible not to sympathise with the father&#8217;s feelings after the
+event.</p>
+
+<p>People do not resent those misfortunes least which they have helped to
+bring on themselves, and no one ever derived less consolation from his own
+theories than did Godwin from his, as soon as they were unpleasantly put
+into practice. He had done little to win his daughter&#8217;s confidence, but he
+was keenly wounded by the proof she had given of its absence. His pride,
+as well as his affection, had suffered a serious blow through her
+departure and that of Jane. For a philosopher like him, accustomed to be
+looked up to and consulted on matters of education, such a failure in his
+own family was a public stigma. False<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> and malicious reports got about,
+which had an additional and peculiar sting from their originating partly
+in his well-known impecuniosity. It was currently rumoured that he had
+sold the two girls to Shelley for &pound;800 and &pound;700 respectively. No wonder
+that Godwin, accustomed to look down from a lofty altitude on such minor
+matters as money and indebtedness, felt now that he could not hold up his
+head. He shunned his old friends, and they, for the most part, felt this
+and avoided him. His home was embittered and spoilt. Mrs. Godwin, incensed
+at Jane&#8217;s conduct, vented her wrath in abuse and invective on Shelley and
+Mary.</p>
+
+<p>No one has thought it worth while to record how poor Fanny was affected by
+the first news of the family calamity. It must have reached her in
+Ireland, and her subsequent return home was dismal indeed. The loss of her
+only sister was a bitter grief to her; and, strong as was her disapproval
+of that sister&#8217;s conduct, it must have given her a pang to feel that the
+culpable Jane had enjoyed Shelley&#8217;s and Mary&#8217;s confidence, while she who
+loved them with a really unselfish love, had been excluded from it. What
+could she now say or do to cheer Godwin? How parry Mrs. Godwin&#8217;s
+inconsiderate and intemperate complaints and innuendos? No doubt Fanny had
+often stood up for Mary with her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> stepmother, and now Mary herself had cut
+the ground from under her feet.</p>
+
+<p>Charles Clairmont was at home again; ostensibly on the plea of helping in
+the publishing business, but as a fact idling about, on the lookout for
+some lucky opening. He cared no more than did Jane for the family
+(including his own mother) in Skinner Street: like every Clairmont, he
+was an adventurer, and promptly transferred his sympathies to any point
+which suited himself. To crown all, William, the youngest son, had become
+infected with the spirit of revolt, and had, as Godwin expresses it,
+&#8220;eloped for two nights,&#8221; giving his family no little anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>The first and immediate result of Shelley&#8217;s letter to Godwin was <i>a visit
+to his windows</i> by Mrs. Godwin and Fanny, who tried in this way to get a
+surreptitious peep at the three truants. Shelley went out to them, but
+they would not speak to him. Late that evening, however, Charles Clairmont
+appeared. He was to be another thorn in the side of the interdicted yet
+indispensable Shelley. He did not mind having a foot in each camp, and had
+no scruples about coming as often and staying as long as he liked, or in
+retailing a large amount of gossip. They discussed William&#8217;s escapade, and
+the various plans for the immuring of Jane, if she could be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> caught. This
+did not predispose Jane to listen to the overtures subsequently made to
+her from time to time by her relatives.</p>
+
+<p>Godwin replied to Shelley&#8217;s letter, but declined all further communication
+with him except through a solicitor. Mrs. Godwin&#8217;s spirit of rancour was
+such that, several weeks later, she, on one occasion, forbade Fanny to
+come down to dinner because she had received a lock of Mary&#8217;s hair,
+probably conveyed to her by Charles Clairmont, who, in return, did not
+fail to inform Mary of the whole story. In spite, however, of this
+vehement show of animosity, Shelley was kept through one channel or
+another only too well informed of Godwin&#8217;s affairs. Indeed, he was never
+suffered to forget them for long at a time. No sign of impatience or
+resentment ever appears in his journal or letters. Not only was Godwin the
+father of his beloved, but he was still, to Shelley, the fountain-head of
+wisdom, philosophy, and inspiration. Mary, too, was devoted to her father,
+and never wavered in her conviction that his inimical attitude proceeded
+from no impulse of his own mind, but that he was upheld in it by the
+influence and interference of Mrs. Godwin.</p>
+
+<p>The journal of Shelley and Mary for the next few months is, in its extreme
+simplicity, a curious record of a most uncomfortable time; a medley of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>
+lodgings, lawyers, money-lenders, bailiffs, wild schemes, and literary
+pursuits. Penniless themselves, they were yet responsible for hundreds and
+thousands of pounds of other people&#8217;s debts; there was Harriet running up
+bills at shops and hotels and sending her creditors on to Shelley; Godwin
+perpetually threatened with bankruptcy, refusing to see the man who had
+robbed him of his daughter, yet with literally no other hope of support
+but his help; Jane Clairmont now, as for years to come, entirely dependent
+on them for everything; Shelley&#8217;s friends quartering themselves on him all
+day and every day, often taking advantage of his love of society and
+intellectual friction, of Mary&#8217;s youth and inexperience and compliant
+good-nature, to live at his expense, and, in one case at least, to obtain
+from him money which he really had not got, and could only borrow, at
+ruinous interest, on his expectations. He had frequently to be in hiding
+from bailiffs, change his lodgings, sleep at friends&#8217; houses or at
+different hotels, getting his letters when he could make a stealthy
+appointment to meet Mary, perhaps at St. Paul&#8217;s, perhaps at some street
+corner or outside some coffee-house,&mdash;anywhere where he might escape
+observation. He was not always certain how far he could rely on those whom
+he had considered his friends, such as the brothers Hookham. Rightly or
+wrongly, he was led to imagine that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> Harriet, from motives of revenge, was
+bent on ruining Godwin, and that for this purpose she would aid and abet
+in his own arrest, by persuading the Hookhams in such a case to refuse
+bail. The rumour of this conspiracy was conveyed to the Shelleys in a note
+from Fanny, who, for Godwin&#8217;s sake and theirs, broke through the stern
+embargo laid on all communication.</p>
+
+<p>Yet through all these troubles and bewilderments there went on a perpetual
+under-current of reading and study, thought and discussion. The actual
+existence was there, and all these external accidents of circumstance, the
+realities in ordinary lives were, in these extraordinary lives, treated
+really as accidents, as passing hindrances to serious purpose, and no
+more.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing but Mary&#8217;s true love for Shelley and perfect happiness with him
+could have tided her over this time. Youth, however, was a wonderful
+helper, added to the unusual intellectual vigour and vivacity which made
+it possible for her, as it would be to few girls of seventeen, to forget
+the daily worries of life in reading and study. Perhaps at no time was the
+even balance of her nature more clearly manifested than now, when, after
+living through a romance that will last in story as long as the name of
+Shelley, her existence revolutionised, her sensibilities preternaturally
+stimulated, having taken, as it were, a life&#8217;s experiences by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> cumulation
+in a few months; weak and depressed in health, too, she still had
+sufficient energy and self-control to apply herself to a solid course of
+intellectual training.</p>
+
+<p>Jane&#8217;s presence added to their unsettlement, although at times it may have
+afforded them some amusement. Wilful, fanciful, with a sense of humour and
+many good impulses, but with that decided dash of charlatanism which
+characterised the Clairmonts, and little true sensibility, she was a
+willing disciple for any wild flights of fancy, and a keen participator in
+all impossible projects and harum-scarum makeshifts. Her presence
+stimulated and enlivened Shelley, her whims and fancies did not seriously
+affect, beyond amusing him, and she was an indefatigable companion for him
+in his walks and wanderings, now that Mary was becoming less and less able
+to go about. To Mary, however, she must often have been an incubus, a
+perpetual <i>third</i>, and one who, if sometimes useful, often gave a great
+deal of trouble too. She did not bring to Mary, as she did to Shelley, the
+charm of novelty; nor does the unfolding of one girl&#8217;s character present
+to another girl whose character is also in process of development such
+attractive problems as it does to a young and speculative man. Mary was
+too noble by nature and too perfectly in accord with Shelley to indulge in
+actual jealousy of Jane&#8217;s companionship with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> him; still, she must often
+have had a weary time when those two were scouring the town on their
+multifarious errands; misunderstandings, also, would occur, only to be
+removed by long and patient explanation. Jane (or &#8220;Clara,&#8221; as about this
+time she elected to call herself, in preference to her own less romantic
+name) was hardly more than a child, and in some respects a very childish
+child. Excitable and nervous, she had no idea of putting constraint upon
+herself for others&#8217; sake, and gave her neighbours very little rest, as she
+preferred any amount of scenes to humdrum quiet. She and Shelley would sit
+up half the night, amusing themselves with wild speculations, natural and
+supernatural, till she would go off into hysterics or trances, or, when
+she had at last gone to bed, would walk in her sleep, see phantoms, and
+frighten them all with her terrors. In the end she was invariably brought
+to poor Mary, who, delicate in health, had gone early to rest, but had to
+bestir herself to bring Jane to reason, and to &#8220;console her with her
+all-powerful benevolence,&#8221; as Shelley describes it.</p>
+
+<p>Every page of the journal testifies to the extreme youth of the writers;
+likely and unlikely events are chronicled with equal simplicity. Where all
+is new, one thing is not more startling than another; and the commonplaces
+of everyday life may afford more occasion for <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>surprise than the strangest
+anomalies. Specimens only of the diary can be given here, and they are
+best given without comment.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Sunday, September 18.</i>&mdash;Mary receives her first lesson in Greek. She
+reads the <i>Curse of Kehama</i>, while Shelley walks out with Peacock, who
+dines. Shelley walks part of the way home with him. Curious account of
+Harriet. We talk, study a little Greek, and go to bed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, September 20.</i>&mdash;Shelley writes to Hookham and Tavernier;
+goes with Hookham to Ballachy&#8217;s. Mary reads <i>Political Justice</i> all
+the morning. Study Greek. In the evening Shelley reads <i>Thalaba</i>
+aloud.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, September 26.</i>&mdash;Shelley goes with Peacock to Ballachy&#8217;s, and
+engages lodgings at Pancras. Visit from Mrs. Pringer. Read <i>Political
+Justice</i> and the <i>Empire of the Nairs</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, September 21.</i>&mdash;Read <i>Political Justice</i>; finish the
+<i>Nairs</i>; pack up and go to our lodgings in Somers Town.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, September 30.</i>&mdash;After breakfast walk to Hampstead Heath.
+Discuss the possibility of converting and liberating two heiresses;
+arrange a plan on the subject.... Peacock calls; talk with him
+concerning the heiresses and Marian, arrange his marriage.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, October 2.</i>&mdash;Peacock comes after breakfast; walk over
+Primrose Hill; sail little boats; return a little before four; talk.
+Read <i>Political Justice</i> in the evening; talk.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, October 3.</i>&mdash;Read <i>Political Justice</i>. Hookham calls. Walk
+with Peacock to the Lake of Nangis and set off little fire-boats.
+After dinner talk and let off fireworks. Talk of the west of Ireland
+plan.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, October 5.</i>&mdash;Peacock at breakfast. Walk to the Lake of
+Nangis and sail fire-boats. Read <i>Political Justice</i>. Shelley reads
+the <i>Ancient Mariner</i> aloud. Letter from Harriet, very civil. &pound;400 for
+&pound;2400.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, October 7</i> (Shelley).&mdash;Read <i>Political Justice</i>. Peacock
+calls. Jane, for some reason, refuses to walk. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> traverse the fields
+towards Hampstead. Under an expansive oak lies a dead calf; the cow,
+lean from grief, is watching it. (Contemplate subject for poem.) The
+sunset is beautiful. Return at 9. Peacock departs. Mary goes to bed at
+half-past 8; Shelley sits up with Jane. Talk of oppression and reform,
+of cutting squares of skin from the soldiers&#8217; backs. Jane states her
+conception of the subterranean community of women. Talk of Hogg,
+Harriet, Miss Hitchener, etc. At 1 o&#8217;clock Shelley observes that it is
+the witching time of night; he inquires soon after if it is not
+horrible to feel the silence of night tingling in our ears; in half an
+hour the question is repeated in a different form; at 2 they retire
+awestruck and hardly daring to breathe. Shelley says to Jane,
+&#8220;Good-night;&#8221; his hand is leaning on the table; he is conscious of an
+expression in his countenance which he cannot repress. Jane hesitates.
+&#8220;Good-night&#8221; again. She still hesitates.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did you ever read the tragedy of <i>Orra</i>?&#8221; said Shelley.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. How horribly you look!&mdash;take your eyes off.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-night&#8221; again, and Jane runs to her room. Shelley, unable to
+sleep, kissed Mary, and prepared to sit beside her and read till
+morning, when rapid footsteps descended the stairs. Jane was there;
+her countenance was distorted most unnaturally by horrible dismay&mdash;it
+beamed with a whiteness that seemed almost like light; her lips and
+cheeks were of one deadly hue; the skin of her face and forehead was
+drawn into innumerable wrinkles&mdash;the lineaments of terror that could
+not be contained; her hair came prominent and erect; her eyes were
+wide and staring, drawn almost from the sockets by the convulsion of
+the muscles; the eyelids were forced in, and the eyeballs, without any
+relief, seemed as if they had been newly inserted, in ghastly sport,
+in the sockets of a lifeless head. This frightful spectacle endured
+but for a few moments&mdash;it was displaced by terror and confusion,
+violent indeed, and full of dismay, but human. She asked me if I had
+touched her pillow (her tone was that of dreadful alarm). I said, &#8220;No,
+no! if you will come into the room I will tell you.&#8221;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> I informed her
+of Mary&#8217;s pregnancy; this seemed to check her violence. She told me
+that a pillow placed upon her bed had been removed, in the moment that
+she turned her eyes away to a chair at some distance, and evidently by
+no human power. She was positive as to the facts of her
+self-possession and calmness. Her manner convinced me that she was not
+deceived. We continued to sit by the fire, at intervals engaging in
+awful conversation relative to the nature of these mysteries. I read
+part of <i>Alexy</i>; I repeated one of my own poems. Our conversation,
+though intentionally directed to other topics, irresistibly recurred
+to these. Our candles burned low; we feared they would not last until
+daylight. Just as the dawn was struggling with moonlight, Jane
+remarked in me that unutterable expression which had affected her with
+so much horror before; she described it as expressing a mixture of
+deep sadness and conscious power over her. I covered my face with my
+hands, and spoke to her in the most studied gentleness. It was
+ineffectual; her horror and agony increased even to the most dreadful
+convulsions. She shrieked and writhed on the floor. I ran to Mary; I
+communicated in few words the state of Jane. I brought her to Mary.
+The convulsions gradually ceased, and she slept. At daybreak we
+examined her apartment and found her pillow on the chair.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, October 8</i> (Mary).&mdash;Read <i>Political Justice</i>. We walked
+out; when we return Shelley talks with Jane, and I read <i>Wrongs of
+Women</i>. In the evening we talk and read.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, October 11.</i>&mdash;Read <i>Political Justice</i>. Shelley goes to the
+Westminster Insurance Office. Study Greek. Peacock dines. Receive a
+refusal about the money....</p>
+
+<p>Have a good-humoured letter from Harriet, and a cold and even
+sarcastic one from Mrs. Boinville. Shelley reads the <i>History of the
+Illuminati</i>, out of Barruel, to us.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, October 12.</i>&mdash;Read <i>Political Justice</i>. A letter from
+Marshall; Jane goes there. When she comes home we go to Cheapside;
+returning, an occurrence. Deliberation until 7; burn the letter; sleep early.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span><i>Thursday, October 13.</i>&mdash;Communicate the burning of the letter. Much
+dispute and discussion concerning its probable contents. Alarm.
+Determine to quit London; send for &pound;5 from Hookham. Change our
+resolution. Go to the play. The extreme depravity and disgusting
+nature of the scene; the inefficacy of acting to encourage or maintain
+the delusion. The loathsome sight of men personating characters which
+do not and cannot belong to them. Shelley displeased with what he saw
+of Kean. Return. Alarm. We sleep at the Stratford Hotel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, October 14</i> (Shelley).&mdash;Jane&#8217;s insensibility and incapacity
+for the slightest degree of friendship. The feelings occasioned by
+this discovery prevent me from maintaining any measure in security.
+This highly incorrect; subversion of the first principles of true
+philosophy; characters, particularly those which are unformed, may
+change. Beware of weakly giving way to trivial sympathies. Content
+yourself with one great affection&mdash;with a single mighty hope; let the
+rest of mankind be the subjects of your benevolence, your justice,
+and, as human beings, of your sensibility; but, as you value many
+hours of peace, never suffer more than one even to approach the
+hallowed circle. Nothing should shake the truly great spirit which is
+not sufficiently mighty to destroy it.</p>
+
+<p>Peacock calls. I take some interest in this man, but no possible
+conduct of his would disturb my tranquillity.... Converse with Jane;
+her mind unsettled; her character unformed; occasion of hope from some
+instances of softness and feeling; she is not entirely insensible to
+concessions, new proofs that the most exalted philosophy, the truest
+virtue, consists in an habitual contempt of self; a subduing of all
+angry feelings; a sacrifice of pride and selfishness. When you attempt
+benefit to either an individual or a community, abstain from imputing
+it as an error that they despise or overlook your virtue. These are
+incidental reflections which arise only indirectly from the
+circumstances recorded.</p>
+
+<p>Walk with Peacock to the pond; talk of Marian and Greek metre. Peacock
+dines. In the evening read Cicero and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> <i>Paradoxa</i>. Night comes;
+Jane walks in her sleep, and groans horribly; listen for two hours; at
+length bring her to Mary. Begin <i>Julius</i>, and finish the little volume
+of Cicero.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning the chimney board in Jane&#8217;s room is found to have
+walked leisurely into the middle of the room, accompanied by the
+pillow, who, being very sleepy, tried to get into bed again, but sat
+down on his back.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, October 15</i> (Mary).&mdash;After breakfast read <i>Political
+Justice</i>. Shelley goes with Peacock to Ballachy&#8217;s. A disappointment;
+it is put off till Monday. They then go to Homerton. Finish <i>St.
+Leon</i>. Jane writes to Marshall. A letter from my Father. Talking; Jane
+and I walk out. Shelley and Peacock return at 6. Shelley advises Jane
+not to go. Jane&#8217;s letter to my Father. A refusal. Talk about going
+away, and, as usual, settle nothing.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, October 19.</i>&mdash;Finish <i>Political Justice</i>, read <i>Caleb
+Williams</i>. Shelley goes to the city, and meets with a total failure.
+Send to Hookham. Shelley reads a part of <i>Comus</i> aloud.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, October 20.</i>&mdash;Shelley goes to the city. Finish <i>Caleb
+Williams</i>; read to Jane. Peacock calls; he has called on my father,
+who will not speak about Shelley to any one but an attorney. Oh!
+philosophy!...</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, October 22.</i>&mdash;Finish the <i>Life of Alfieri</i>. Go to the tomb
+(Mary Wollstonecraft&#8217;s), and read the <i>Essay on Sepulchres</i> there.
+Shelley is out all the morning at the lawyer&#8217;s, but nothing is
+done....</p>
+
+<p>In the evening a letter from Fanny, warning us of the Hookhams. Jane
+and Shelley go after her; they find her, but Fanny runs away.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, October 24.</i>&mdash;Read aloud to Jane. At 11 go out to meet
+Shelley. Walk up and down Fleet Street; call at Peacock&#8217;s; return to
+Fleet Street; call again at Peacock&#8217;s; return to Pancras; remain an
+hour or two. People call; I suppose bailiffs. Return to Peacock&#8217;s.
+Call at the coffee-house; see Shelley; he has been to Ballachy&#8217;s. Good
+hopes; to be decided Thursday morning. Return to Peacock&#8217;s; dine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>
+there; get money. Return home in a coach; go to bed soon, tired to
+death.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, October 25.</i>&mdash;Write to Shelley. Jane goes to Fanny.... Call
+at Peacock&#8217;s; go to the hotel; Shelley not there. Go back to
+Peacock&#8217;s. Peacock goes to Shelley. Meet Shelley in Holborn. Walk up
+and down Bartlett&#8217;s Buildings.... Come with him to Peacock&#8217;s; talk
+with him till 10; return to Pancras without him. Jane in the dumps all
+evening about going away.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, October 26.</i>&mdash;A visit from Shelley&#8217;s old friends;<a name='fna_10' id='fna_10' href='#f_10'><small>[10]</small></a> they
+go away much disappointed and very angry. He has written to T. Hookham
+to ask him to be bail. Return to Pancras about 4. Read all the
+evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, October 27.</i>&mdash;Write to Fanny all morning. We had received
+letters from Skinner Street in the morning. Fanny is very doleful, and
+C. C. contradicts in one line what he had said in the line before.
+After two go to St. Paul&#8217;s; meet Shelley; go with him in a coach to
+Hookham&#8217;s; H. is out; return; leave him and proceed to Pancras. He has
+not received a definitive answer from Ballachy; meet a money-lender,
+of whom I have some hopes. Read aloud to Jane in the evening. Jane
+goes to sleep. Write to Shelley. A letter comes enclosing a letter
+from Hookham consenting to justify bail. Harriet has been to work
+there against my Father.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, November 1.</i>&mdash;Learn Greek all morning. Shelley goes to the
+&#8217;Change. Jane calls.<a name='fna_11' id='fna_11' href='#f_11'><small>[11]</small></a> People want their money; won&#8217;t send up
+dinner, and we are all very hungry. Jane goes to Hookham. Shelley and
+I talk about her character. Jane returns without money. Writes to
+Fanny about coming to see her; she can&#8217;t come. Writes to Charles. Goes
+to Peacock to send him to us with some eatables; he is out. Charles
+promises to see her. She returns to Pancras; he goes there, and tells
+the dismal state of the Skinner Street affairs. Shelley<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> goes to
+Peacock&#8217;s; comes home with cakes. Wait till T. Hookham sends money to
+pay the bill. Shelley returns to Pancras. Have tea, and go to bed.
+Shelley goes to Peacock&#8217;s to sleep.</p></div>
+
+<p>These are two specimens of the notes constantly passing between them.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary to Shelley.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><i>25th October.</i></p>
+
+<p>For what a minute did I see you yesterday. Is this the way, my
+beloved, we are to live till the 6th? In the morning when I wake I
+turn to look on you. Dearest Shelley, you are solitary and
+uncomfortable. Why cannot I be with you, to cheer you and press you to
+my heart? Ah! my love, you have no friends; why, then, should you be
+torn from the only one who has affection for you? But I shall see you
+to-night, and this is the hope I shall live on through the day. Be
+happy, dear Shelley, and think of me! I know how tenderly you love me,
+and how you repine at your absence from me. When shall we be free of
+treachery? I send you the letter I told you of from Harriet, and a
+letter we received yesterday from Fanny; the history of this interview
+I will tell you when I come. I was so dreadfully tired yesterday that
+I was obliged to take a coach home. Forgive this extravagance, but I
+am so very weak at present, and I had been so agitated through the
+day, that I was not able to stand; a morning&#8217;s rest, however, will set
+me quite right again; I shall be well when I meet you this evening.
+Will you be at the door of the coffee-house at 5 o&#8217;clock, as it is
+disagreeable to go into those places. I shall be there exactly at that
+time, and we can go into St. Paul&#8217;s, where we can sit down.</p>
+
+<p>I send you <i>Diogenes</i>, as you have no books. Hookham was so
+ill-tempered as not to send the book I asked for. So this is the end
+of my letter, dearest love.</p>
+
+<p>What do they mean?<a name='fna_12' id='fna_12' href='#f_12'><small>[12]</small></a> I detest Mrs. Godwin; she plagues<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> my father
+out of his life; and these&mdash;&mdash;Well, no matter. Why will Godwin not
+follow the obvious bent of his affections, and be reconciled to us?
+No; his prejudices, the world, and <i>she</i>&mdash;all these forbid it. What am
+I to do? trust to time, of course, for what else can I do. Good-night,
+my love; to-morrow I will seal this blessing on your lips. Press me,
+your own Mary, to your heart. Perhaps she will one day have a father;
+till then be everything to me, love; and, indeed, I will be a good
+girl, and never vex you. I will learn Greek and&mdash;&mdash;but when shall we
+meet when I may tell you all this, and you will so sweetly reward me?
+But good-night; I am wofully tired, and so sleepy. One kiss&mdash;well,
+that is enough&mdash;to-morrow!</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Shelley to Mary.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><i>28th October.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My beloved Mary</span>&mdash;I know not whether these transient meetings produce
+not as much pain as pleasure. What have I said? I do not mean it. I
+will not forget the sweet moments when I saw your eyes&mdash;the divine
+rapture of the few and fleeting kisses. Yet, indeed, this must cease;
+indeed, we must not part thus wretchedly to meet amid the comfortless
+tumult of business; to part I know not how.</p>
+
+<p>Well, dearest love, to-morrow&mdash;to-morrow night. That eternal clock!
+Oh! that I could &#8220;fright the steeds of lazy-paced Time.&#8221; I do not
+think that I am less impatient now than formerly to repossess&mdash;to
+entirely engross&mdash;my own treasured love. It seems so unworthy a cause
+for the slightest separation. I could reconcile it to my own feelings
+to go to prison if they would cease to persecute us with
+interruptions. Would it not be better, my heavenly love, to creep into
+the loathliest cave so that we might be together.</p>
+
+<p>Mary, love, we must be united; I will not part from you again after
+Saturday night. We must devise some scheme. I must return. Your
+thoughts alone can waken mine to energy; my mind without yours is dead
+and cold as the dark midnight river when the moon is down. It seems as
+if you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> alone could shield me from impurity and vice. If I were absent
+from you long, I should shudder with horror at myself; my
+understanding becomes undisciplined without you. I believe I must
+become in Mary&#8217;s hands what Harriet was in mine. Yet how differently
+disposed&mdash;how devoted and affectionate&mdash;how, beyond measure,
+reverencing and adoring&mdash;the intelligence that governs me! I repent me
+of this simile; it is unjust; it is false. Nor do I mean that I
+consider you much my superior, evidently as you surpass me in
+originality and simplicity of mind. How divinely sweet a task it is to
+imitate each other&#8217;s excellences, and each moment to become wiser in
+this surpassing love, so that, constituting but one being, all real
+knowledge may be comprised in the maxim &#947;&#957;&#969;&#952;&#953; &#963;&#949;&#945;&#965;&#964;&#959;&#957;&mdash;(know
+thyself)&mdash;with infinitely more justice than in its narrow and common
+application. I enclose you Hookham&#8217;s note; what do you think of it? My
+head aches; I am not well; I am tired with this comfortless
+estrangement from all that is dear to me. My own dearest love,
+good-night. I meet you in Staples Inn at twelve to-morrow&mdash;half an
+hour before twelve. I have written to Hooper and Sir J. Shelley.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><i>Journal, Thursday, November 3</i> (Mary).&mdash;Work; write to Shelley; read
+Greek grammar. Receive a letter from Mr. Booth; so all my hopes are
+over there. Ah! Isabel; I did not think you would act thus. Read and
+work in the evening. Receive a letter from Shelley. Write to him.</p>
+
+<p class="center">[Letter not transcribed here.]</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, November 6.</i>&mdash;Talk to Shelley. He writes a great heap of
+letters. Read part of <i>St. Leon</i>. Talk with him all evening; this is a
+day devoted to Love in idleness. Go to sleep early in the evening.
+Shelley goes away a little before 10.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, November 9.</i>&mdash;Pack up all morning; leave Pancras about 3;
+call at Peacock&#8217;s for Shelley; Charles Clairmont has been for &pound;8. Go
+to Nelson Square. Jane gloomy; she is very sullen with Shelley. Well,
+never mind, my love&mdash;we are happy.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, November 10.</i>&mdash;Jane is not well, and does not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> speak the
+whole day. We send to Peacock&#8217;s, but no good news arrives. Lambert has
+called there, and says he will write. Read a little of <i>Petronius</i>, a
+most detestable book. Shelley is out all the morning. In the evening
+read Louvet&#8217;s <i>Memoirs</i>&mdash;go to bed early. Shelley and Jane sit up till
+12, talking; Shelley talks her into a good humour.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, November 13.</i>&mdash;Write in the morning; very unwell all day.
+Fanny sends a letter to Jane to come to Blackfriars Road; Jane cannot
+go. Fanny comes here; she will not see me; hear everything she says,
+however. They think my letter cold and <i>indelicate</i>! God bless them.
+Papa tells Fanny if she sees me he will never speak to her again; a
+blessed degree of liberty this! He has had a very impertinent letter
+from Christy Baxter. The reason she comes is to ask Jane to Skinner
+Street to see Mrs. Godwin, who they say is dying. Jane has no clothes.
+Fanny goes back to Skinner Street to get some. She returns. Jane goes
+with her. Shelley returns (he had been to Hookham&#8217;s); he disapproves.
+Write and read. In the evening talk with my love about a great many
+things. We receive a letter from Jane saying she is very happy, and
+she does not know when she will return. Turner has called at Skinner
+Street; he says it is too far to Nelson Square. I am unwell in the
+evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Journal, November 14</i> (Shelley).&mdash;Mary is unwell. Receive a note from
+Hogg; cloth from Clara. I wish this girl had a resolute mind. Without
+firmness understanding is impotent, and the truest principles
+unintelligible. Charles calls to confer concerning Lambert; walk with
+him. Go to &#8217;Change, to Peacock&#8217;s, to Lambert&#8217;s; receive &pound;30. In the
+evening Hogg calls; perhaps he still may be my friend, in spite of the
+radical differences of sympathy between us; he was pleased with Mary;
+this was the test by which I had previously determined to judge his
+character. We converse on many interesting subjects, and Mary&#8217;s
+illness disappears for a time.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, November 15</i> (Shelley).&mdash;Disgusting dreams have occupied
+the night.</p>
+
+<p>(Mary).&mdash;Very unwell. Jane calls; converse with her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> She goes to
+Skinner Street; tells Papa that she will not return; comes back to
+Nelson Square with Shelley; calls at Peacock&#8217;s. Shelley read aloud to
+us in the evening out of Adolphus&#8217;s <i>Lives</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, November 16.</i>&mdash;Very ill all day. Shelley and Jane out all
+day shopping about the town. Shelley reads <i>Edgar Huntley</i> to us.
+Shelley and Jane go to Hookham&#8217;s. Hogg comes in the meantime; he stops
+all the evening. Shelley writes his critique till half-past 3.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, November 19.</i>&mdash;Very ill. Shelley and Jane go out to call at
+Mrs. Knapp&#8217;s; she receives Jane kindly; promises to come and see me. I
+go to bed early. Charles Clairmont calls in the evening, but I do not
+see him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, November 20.</i>&mdash;Still very ill; get up very late. In the
+evening Shelley reads aloud out of the <i>Female Revolutionary
+Plutarch</i>. Hogg comes in the evening.... Get into an argument about
+virtue, in which Hogg makes a sad bungle; quite muddled on the point,
+I perceive.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, November 29.</i>&mdash;Work all day. Heigh ho! Clara and Shelley go
+before breakfast to Parker&#8217;s. After breakfast, Shelley is as badly off
+as I am with my work, for he is out all day with those lawyers. In the
+evening Shelley and Jane go in search of Charles Clairmont; they
+cannot find him. Read <i>Philip Stanley</i>&mdash;very stupid.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, December 6.</i>&mdash;Very unwell. Shelley and Clara walk out, as
+usual, to heaps of places. Read <i>Agathon</i>, which I do not like so well
+as <i>Peregrine</i>.... A letter from Hookham, to say that Harriet has been
+brought to bed of a son and heir. Shelley writes a number of circular
+letters of this event, which ought to be ushered in with ringing of
+bells, etc., for it is the son <i>of his wife</i>. Hogg comes in the
+evening; I like him better, though he vexed me by his attachment to
+sporting. A letter from Harriet confirming the news, in a letter from
+a <i>deserted wife</i>!! and telling us he has been born a week.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, December 7.</i>&mdash;Clara and Shelley go out together; Shelley
+calls on the lawyers and on Harriet, who treats him with insulting
+selfishness; they return home wet and very tired. Read <i>Agathon</i>. I
+like it less to-day; he discovers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> many opinions which I think
+detestable. Work. In the evening Charles Clairmont comes. Hear that
+Place is trying to raise &pound;1200 to pay Hume on Shelley&#8217;s <i>post obit</i>;
+affairs very bad in Skinner Street; afraid of a call for the rent; all
+very bad. Shelley walks home with Charles Clairmont; goes to Hookham&#8217;s
+about the &pound;100 to lend my Father. Hookham out. He returns; very tired.
+Work in the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, December 8.</i>&mdash;Shelley and Clara go to Hookham&#8217;s; get the
+&pound;90 for my father; they are out, as usual, all morning. Finish
+<i>Agathon</i>. I do not like it; Wieland displays some most detestable
+opinions; he is one of those men who alter all their opinions when
+they are about forty, and then think it will be the same with every
+one, and that they are themselves the only proper monitors of youth.
+Work. When Shelley and Clara return, Shelley goes to Lambert&#8217;s; out.
+Work. In the evening Hogg comes; talk about a great number of things;
+he is more sincere this evening than I have seen him before. Odd
+dreams.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, December 16.</i>&mdash;Still ill; heigh ho! Finish <i>Jane Talbot</i>.
+Hume calls at half-past 12; he tells of the great distress in Skinner
+Street; I do not see him. Hookham calls; hasty little man; he does not
+stay long. In the evening Hogg comes. Shelley and Clara are at first
+out; they have been to look for Charles Clairmont; they find him, and
+walk with him some time up and down Ely Place. Shelley goes to sleep
+early; very tired. We talk about flowers and trees in the evening; a
+country conversation.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, December 17.</i>&mdash;Very ill. Shelley and Clara go to Pike&#8217;s;
+when they return, Shelley goes to walk round the Square. Talk with
+Shelley in the evening; he sleeps, and I lie down on the bed. Jane
+goes to Pike&#8217;s at 9. Charles Clairmont comes, and talks about several
+things. Mrs. Godwin did not allow Fanny to come down to dinner on her
+receiving a lock of my hair. Fanny of course behaves slavishly on the
+occasion. He goes at half-past 11.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, December 18.</i>&mdash;Better, but far from well. Pass a very happy
+morning with Shelley. Charles Clairmont comes at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> dinner-time, the
+Skinner Street folk having gone to dine at the Kennie&#8217;s. Jane and he
+take a long walk together. Shelley and I are left alone. Hogg comes
+after Clara and her brother return. C. C. flies from the field on his
+approach. Conversation as usual. Get worse towards night.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, December 19</i> (Shelley).&mdash;Mary rather better this morning.
+Jane goes to Hume&#8217;s about Godwin&#8217;s bills; learn that Lambert is
+inclined, but hesitates. Hear of a woman&mdash;supposed to be the daughter
+of the Duke of Montrose&mdash;who has the head of a hog. <i>Suetonius</i> is
+finished, and Shelley begins the <i>Historia Augustana</i>. Charles
+Clairmont comes in the evening; a discussion concerning female
+character. Clara imagines that I treat her unkindly; Mary consoles her
+with her all-powerful benevolence. I rise (having already gone to bed)
+and speak with Clara; she was very unhappy; I leave her tranquil.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, December 20</i> (Mary).&mdash;Shelley goes to Pike&#8217;s; take a short
+walk with him first. Unwell. A letter from Harriet, who threatens
+Shelley with her lawyer. In the evening read <i>Emilia Galotti</i>. Hogg
+comes. Converse of various things. He goes at twelve.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, December 21</i> (Shelley).&mdash;Mary is better. Shelley goes to
+Pike&#8217;s, to the Insurance Offices, and the lawyer&#8217;s; an agreement
+entered into for &pound;3000 for &pound;1000. A letter from Wales, offering <i>post
+obit</i>. Shelley goes to Hume&#8217;s; Mary reads Miss Baillie&#8217;s plays in the
+evening. Shelley goes to bed at 8; Mary at 11.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, December 24</i> (Mary).&mdash;Read <i>View of French Revolution</i>.
+Walk out with Shelley, and spend a dreary morning waiting for him at
+Mr. Peacock&#8217;s. In the evening Hogg comes. I like him better each time;
+it is a pity that he is a lawyer; he wasted so much time on that trash
+that might be spent on better things.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, December 25.</i>&mdash;Christmas Day. Have a very bad side-ache in
+the morning, so I rise late. Charles Clairmont comes and dines with
+us. In the afternoon read Miss Baillie&#8217;s plays. Hogg spends the
+evening with us; conversation, as usual.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span><i>Monday, December 26</i> (Shelley).&mdash;The sweet Maie asleep; leave a note
+with her. Walk with Clara to Pike&#8217;s, etc. Go to Hampstead and look for
+a house; we return in a return-chaise; find that Laurence has arrived,
+and consult for Mary; she has read Miss Baillie&#8217;s plays all day. Mary
+better this evening. Shelley very much fatigued; sleeps all the
+evening. Read <i>Candide</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, December 27</i> (Mary).&mdash;Not very well; Shelley very unwell.
+Read <i>De Montfort</i>, and talk with Shelley in the evening. Read <i>View
+of the French Revolution</i>. Hogg comes in the evening; talk of heaps of
+things. Shelley&#8217;s odd dream.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, December 28.</i>&mdash;Shelley and Clara out all the morning. Read
+<i>French Revolution</i> in the evening. Shelley and I go to Gray&#8217;s Inn to
+get Hogg; he is not there; go to Arundel Street; can&#8217;t find him. Go to
+Garnerin&#8217;s. Lecture on electricity; the gases, and the phantasmagoria;
+return at half-past 9. Shelley goes to sleep. Read <i>View of French
+Revolution</i> till 12; go to bed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, December 30.</i>&mdash;Shelley and Jane go out as usual. Read Bryan
+Edwards&#8217;s <i>Account of West Indies</i>. They do not return till past
+seven, having been locked into Kensington Gardens; both very tired.
+Hogg spends the evening with us.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, December 31</i> (Shelley).&mdash;The poor Maie was very weak and
+tired all day. Shelley goes to Pike&#8217;s and Humes&#8217; and Mrs.
+Peacock&#8217;s;<a name='fna_13' id='fna_13' href='#f_13'><small>[13]</small></a> return very tired, and sleeps all the evening. The Maie
+goes to sleep early. New Year&#8217;s Eve.</p></div>
+
+<p>In January 1815 Shelley&#8217;s grandfather, Sir Bysshe, died, and his father,
+Mr. Timothy Shelley, succeeded to the baronetcy and estate. By an
+arrangement with his father, according to which he relinquished all claim
+on a certain portion of his patrimony, Shelley now became possessed of
+&pound;1000 a year (&pound;200 a year of which he at once set<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> apart for Harriet), as
+well as a considerable sum of ready money for the relief of his present
+necessities. &pound;200 of this he also sent to Harriet to pay her debts. The
+next few entries in the journal were, however, written before this event.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Thursday, January 5</i> (Mary).&mdash;Go to breakfast at Hogg&#8217;s; Shelley
+leaves us there and goes to Hume&#8217;s. When he returns we go to Newman
+Street; see the statue of Theoclea; it is a divinity that raises your
+mind to all virtue and excellence; I never beheld anything half so
+wonderfully beautiful. Return home very ill. Expect Hogg in the
+evening, but he does not come. Too ill to read.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, January 6.</i>&mdash;Walk to Mrs. Peacock&#8217;s with Clara. Walk with
+Hogg to Theoclea; she is ten thousand times more beautiful to-day than
+ever; tear ourselves away. Return to Nelson Square; no one at home.
+Hogg stays a short time with me. Shelley had stayed at home till 2 to
+see Ryan;<a name='fna_14' id='fna_14' href='#f_14'><small>[14]</small></a> he does not come. Goes out about business. In the
+evening Shelley and Clara go to Garnerin&#8217;s.... Very unwell. Hogg
+comes. Shelley and Clara return at ten. Conversation as usual. Shelley
+reads &#8220;Ode to France&#8221; aloud, and repeats the poem to &#8220;Tranquillity.&#8221;
+Talk with Shelley afterwards for some time; at length go to sleep.
+Shelley goes out and sits in the other room till 5; I then call him.
+Talk. Shelley goes to sleep; at 8 Shelley rises and goes out.</p></div>
+
+<p>The next entry is made during Shelley&#8217;s short absence in Sussex, after his
+grandfather&#8217;s death. Clara had accompanied him on his journey.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>(<i>Date between January 7 and January 13</i>).&mdash;Letter from Peacock to say
+that he is in prison.... His debt is &pound;40....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> Write to Peacock and
+send him &pound;2. Hogg dines with me and spends the evening; letter from
+Hookham.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, January 13.</i>&mdash;A letter from Clara. While I am at breakfast
+Shelley and Clara arrive. The will has been opened, and Shelley is
+referred to Whitton. His father would not allow him to enter Field
+Place; he sits before the door and reads <i>Comus</i>. Dr. Blocksome comes
+out; tells him that his father is very angry with him. Sees my name in
+Milton.... Hogg dines, and spends the evening with us.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, January 24.</i>&mdash;In the evening Shelley, Clara, and Hogg sleep.
+Read Gibbon.... Hogg goes at half-past 11. Shelley and Clara explain
+as usual.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, January 30.</i>&mdash;Work all day. Shelley reads Livy. In the
+evening Shelley reads <i>Paradise Regained</i> aloud, and then goes to
+sleep. Hogg comes at 9. Talk and work. Hogg sleeps here.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, February 1.</i>&mdash;Read Gibbon (end of vol. i.) Shelley reads
+Livy in the evening. Work. Shelley and Clara sleep. Hogg comes and
+sleeps here. Mrs. Hill calls.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, February 5.</i>&mdash;Read Gibbon. Take a long walk in Kensington
+Gardens and the Park; meet Clairmont as we return, and hear that my
+father wishes to see a copy of the codicil, because he thinks Shelley
+is acting rashly. All this is very odd and inconsistent, but I never
+quarrel with inconsistency; folks must change their minds. After
+dinner talk. Shelley finishes Gibbon&#8217;s <i>Memoirs</i> aloud. Clara,
+Shelley, and Hogg sleep. Read Gibbon. Shelley writes to Longdill and
+Clairmont. Hogg ill, but we cannot persuade him to stay; he goes at
+half-past 11.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, February 8.</i>&mdash;Ash Wednesday. So Hogg stays all day. We are
+to move to-day, so Shelley and Clara go out to look for lodgings. Hogg
+and I pack, and then talk. Shelley and Clara do not return till 3;
+they have not succeeded; go out again; they get apartments at Hans
+Place; move. In the evening talk and read Gibbon. Letters. Pike calls;
+insolent plague. Hogg goes at half-past 11.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, February 14</i> (Shelley).&mdash;Shelley goes to Longdill&#8217;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> and
+Hayward&#8217;s, and returns feverish and fatigued. Maie finishes the third
+volume of Gibbon. All unwell in the evening. Hogg comes and puts us to
+bed. Hogg goes at half-past 11.</p></div>
+
+<p>In this month, probably on the 22d (but that page of the diary is torn),
+when they had been hardly more than a week in their last new lodgings, a
+little girl was born. Although her confinement was premature, Mary had a
+favourable time; the infant, a scarcely seven months&#8217; child, was not
+expected to live; it survived, however, for some days. It might possibly
+have been saved, had it had an ordinary chance of life given it, but, on
+the ninth day of its existence, the whole family moved yet again to new
+lodgings. How the young mother ever recovered from the fatigues, risks,
+and worries she had to go through at this critical time may well be
+wondered. It is more than probable that the unreasonable demands made on
+her strength and courage during this month and those which preceded it
+laid the foundation of much weak health later on. The child was
+sacrificed. Four days after the move it was found in the morning dead by
+its mother&#8217;s side. The poor little thing was a mere passing episode in
+Shelley&#8217;s troubled, hurried existence. Only to Mary were its birth and
+death a deep and permanent experience. Apart from her love for Shelley,
+her affections had been chiefly of the intellectual kind, and even in her
+relation with him mental affinity had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> played a great part. A new chord in
+her temperament was set vibrating by the advent of this baby, the maternal
+one, quite absent from her disposition before, and which was to assert
+itself at last as the keynote of her nature.</p>
+
+<p>Hogg, who was almost constantly with them at this time, seems to have been
+kind, helpful, and sympathetic.</p>
+
+<p>The baby&#8217;s birth was too much for Fanny Godwin&#8217;s endurance and fortitude.
+Up to this time she had, in accordance with what she conceived to be her
+duty, held aloof from the Shelleys, but, the barrier once broken down, she
+came repeatedly to see them. Mrs. Godwin showed that she had a soft spot
+in her heart by sending Mary, through Fanny, a present of linen, no doubt
+most welcome at this unprepared-for crisis. Beyond this she was
+unrelenting. Her pride, however, was not so strong as her feminine
+curiosity, which she indulged still by parading before the windows and
+trying to get peeps at the people behind them. She was annoyed with Fanny,
+who now, however, held her own course, feeling that her duty could not be
+all on one side while her family consented to be dependent, and that every
+moment of her father&#8217;s peace and safety were due entirely to this Shelley
+whom he would not see.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, February 22</i> (Shelley) (after the baby&#8217;s birth).&mdash;Maie
+perfectly well and at ease. The child is not quite seven<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> months; the
+child not expected to live. Shelley sits up with Maie, much exhausted
+and agitated. Hogg sleeps here.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, February 23.</i>&mdash;Mary quite well; the child unexpectedly
+alive, but still not expected to live. Hogg returns in the evening at
+half-past 7. Shelley writes to Fanny requesting her to come and see
+Maie. Fanny comes and remains the whole night, the Godwins being
+absent from home. Charles comes at 11 with linen from Mrs. Godwin.
+Hogg departs at 11. &pound;30 from Longdill.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, February 24.</i>&mdash;Maie still well; favourable symptoms in the
+child; we may indulge some hopes. Hogg calls at 2. Fanny departs. Dr.
+Clarke calls; confirms our hopes of the child. Shelley finishes second
+volume of Livy, p. 657. Hogg comes in the evening. Shelley very unwell
+and exhausted.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, February 25.</i>&mdash;The child very well; Maie very well also;
+drawing milk all day. Shelley is very unwell.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, February 26</i> (Mary).&mdash;Maie rises to-day. Hogg comes; talk;
+she goes to bed at 6. Hogg calls at the lodgings we have taken. Read
+<i>Corinne</i>. Shelley and Clara go to sleep. Hogg returns; talk with him
+till past 11. He goes. Shelley and Clara go down to tea. Just settling
+to sleep when a knock comes to the door; it is Fanny; she came to see
+how we were; she stays talking till half-past 3, and then leaves the
+room that Shelley and Mary may sleep. Shelley has a spasm.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, February 27.</i>&mdash;Rise; talk and read <i>Corinne</i>. Hogg comes in
+the evening. Shelley and Clara go out about a cradle....</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, February 28.</i>&mdash;I come downstairs; talk, nurse the baby, read
+<i>Corinne</i>, and work. Shelley goes to Pemberton about his health.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, March 1.</i>&mdash;Nurse the baby, read <i>Corinne</i>, and work.
+Shelley and Clara out all morning. In the evening Peacock comes. Talk
+about types, editions, and Greek letters all the evening. Hogg comes.
+They go away at half-past 11. Bonaparte invades France.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span><i>Thursday, March 2.</i>&mdash;A bustle of moving. Read <i>Corinne</i>. I and my
+baby go about 3. Shelley and Clara do not come till 6. Hogg comes in
+the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, March 3.</i>&mdash;Nurse my baby; talk, and read <i>Corinne</i>. Hogg
+comes in the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, March 4.</i>&mdash;Read, talk, and nurse. Shelley reads the <i>Life
+of Chaucer</i>. Hogg comes in the evening and sleeps.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, March 5.</i>&mdash;Shelley and Clara go to town. Hogg here all day.
+Read <i>Corinne</i> and nurse my baby. In the evening talk. Shelley
+finishes the <i>Life of Chaucer</i>. Hogg goes at 11.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, March 6.</i>&mdash;Find my baby dead. Send for Hogg. Talk. A
+miserable day. In the evening read <i>Fall of the Jesuits</i>. Hogg sleeps
+here.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, March 7.</i>&mdash;Shelley and Clara go after breakfast to town.
+Write to Fanny. Hogg stays all day with us; talk with him, and read
+the <i>Fall of the Jesuits</i> and <i>Rinaldo Rinaldini</i>. Not in good
+spirits. Hogg goes at 11. A fuss. To bed at 3.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, March 8.</i>&mdash;Finish <i>Rinaldini</i>. Talk with Shelley. In very
+bad spirits, but get better; sleep a little in the day. In the evening
+net. Hogg comes; he goes at half-past 11. Clara has written for Fanny,
+but she does not come.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, March 9.</i>&mdash;Read and talk. Still think about my little baby.
+&#8217;Tis hard, indeed, for a mother to lose a child. Hogg and Charles
+Clairmont come in the evening. C. C. goes at 11. Hogg stays all night.
+Read Fontenelle, <i>Plurality of Worlds</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, March 10.</i>&mdash;Hogg&#8217;s holidays begin. Shelley, Hogg, and Clara
+go to town. Hogg comes back soon. Talk and net. Hogg now remains with
+us. Put the room to rights.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, March 11.</i>&mdash;Very unwell. Hogg goes to town. Talk about
+Clara&#8217;s going away; nothing settled; I fear it is hopeless. She will
+not go to Skinner Street; then our house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> is the only remaining place,
+I see plainly. What is to be done? Hogg returns. Talk, and Hogg reads
+the <i>Life of Goldoni</i> aloud.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, March 4.</i>&mdash;Talk a great deal. Not well, but better. Very
+quiet all the morning, and happy, for Clara does not get up till 4. In
+the evening read Gibbon, fourth volume; go to bed at 12.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, March 13.</i>&mdash;Shelley and Clara go to town. Stay at home; net,
+and think of my little dead baby. This is foolish, I suppose; yet,
+whenever I am left alone to my own thoughts, and do not read to divert
+them, they always come back to the same point&mdash;that I was a mother,
+and am so no longer. Fanny comes, wet through; she dines, and stays
+the evening; talk about many things; she goes at half-past 9. Cut out
+my new gown.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, March 14.</i>&mdash;Shelley calls on Dr. Pemberton. Net till
+breakfast. Shelley reads <i>Religio Medici</i> aloud, after Hogg has gone
+to town. Work; finish Hogg&#8217;s purse. Shelley and I go upstairs and talk
+of Clara&#8217;s going; the prospect appears to me more dismal than ever;
+not the least hope. This is, indeed, hard to bear. In the evening Hogg
+reads Gibbon to me. Charles Clairmont comes in the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, March 19.</i>&mdash;Dream that my little baby came to life again;
+that it had only been cold, and that we rubbed it before the fire, and
+it lived. Awake and find no baby. I think about the little thing all
+day. Not in good spirits. Shelley is very unwell. Read Gibbon. Charles
+Clairmont comes. Hogg goes to town till dinner-time. Talk with Charles
+Clairmont about Skinner Street. They are very badly off there. I am
+afraid nothing can be done to save them. C. C. says that he shall go
+to America; this I think a rather wild project in the Clairmont style.
+Play a game of chess with Clara. In the evening Shelley and Hogg play
+at chess. Shelley and Clara walk part of the way with Charles
+Clairmont. Play chess with Hogg, and then read Gibbon.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, March 20.</i>&mdash;Dream again about my baby. Work<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> after breakfast,
+and then go with Shelley, Hogg, and Clara to Bullock&#8217;s Museum; spend
+the morning there. Return and find more letters for A. Z.&mdash;one from a
+&#8220;Disconsolate Widow.&#8221;<a name='fna_15' id='fna_15' href='#f_15'><small>[15]</small></a></p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, March 22.</i>&mdash;Talk, and read the papers. Read Gibbon all
+day. Charles Clairmont calls about Shelley lending &pound;100. We do not
+return a decisive answer.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, March 23.</i>&mdash;Read Gibbon. Shelley reads Livy. Walk with
+Shelley and Hogg to Arundel Street. Read <i>Le Diable Boiteux</i>. Hear
+that Bonaparte has entered Paris. As we come home, meet my father and
+Charles Clairmont.... C. C. calls; he tells us that Papa saw us, and
+that he remarked that Shelley was so beautiful, it was a pity he was
+so wicked.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, March 28.</i>&mdash;Work in the morning and then walk out to look at
+house.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, April 8.</i>&mdash;Peacock comes at breakfast-time; Hogg and he go
+to town. Read <i>L&#8217;Esprit des Nations</i>. Settle to go to Virginia Water.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, April 9.</i>&mdash;Rise at 8. Charles Clairmont comes to breakfast at
+10. Read some lines of Ovid before breakfast; after, walk with
+Shelley, Hogg, Clara, and C. C. to pond in Kensington Gardens; return
+about 2. C. C. goes to Skinner Street. Read Ovid with Hogg (finish
+second fable). Shelley reads Gibbon and <i>Pastor Fido</i> with Clara. In
+the evening read <i>L&#8217;Esprit des Nations</i>. Shelley reads Gibbon, <i>Pastor
+Fido</i>, and the story of Myrrha in Ovid.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, April 10.</i>&mdash;Read Voltaire before breakfast. After breakfast
+work. Shelley passes the morning with Harriet, who is in a
+surprisingly good humour. Mary reads third fable of Ovid: Shelley and
+Clara read <i>Pastor Fido</i>. Shelley reads Gibbon. Mrs. Godwin after
+dinner parades before the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> windows. Talk in the evening with Hogg
+about mountains and lakes and London.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, April 11.</i>&mdash;Work in the morning. Receive letters from
+Skinner Street to say that Mamma had gone away in the pet, and had
+stayed out all night. Read fourth and fifth fables of Ovid.... After
+tea, work. Charles Clairmont comes.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, April 15.</i>&mdash;Read Ovid till 3. Shelley and Clara finish
+<i>Pastor Fido</i>, and then go out about Clara&#8217;s lottery ticket; draws.
+Clara&#8217;s ticket comes up a prize. She buys two desks after dinner. Read
+Ovid (ninety-five lines). Shelley and Clara begin <i>Orlando Furioso</i>. A
+very grim dream.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, April 21.</i>&mdash;After breakfast go with Shelley to Peacock&#8217;s.
+Shelley goes to Longdill&#8217;s. Read third canto of the <i>Lord of the
+Isles</i>. Return about 2. Shelley goes to Harriet to procure his son,
+who is to appear in one of the courts. After dinner look over W. W.&#8217;s
+poems. After tea read forty lines of Ovid. Fanny comes and gives us an
+account of Hogan&#8217;s threatened arrest of my Father. Shelley walks home
+part of the way with her. Very sleepy. Shelley reads one canto of
+Ariosto.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, April 22.</i>&mdash;Read a little of Ovid. Shelley goes to
+Harriet&#8217;s about his son. Work. Fanny comes. Shelley returns at 4; he
+has been much teased with Harriet. He has been to Longdill&#8217;s,
+Whitton&#8217;s, etc., and at length has got a promise that he shall appear
+Monday. After dinner Fanny goes. Read sixty lines of Ovid. Shelley and
+Clara read to the middle of the fourteenth canto of Ariosto.</p></div>
+
+<p>Shortly after this several leaves of the journal are lost.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Friday, May 5.</i>&mdash;After breakfast to Marshall&#8217;s,<a name='fna_16' id='fna_16' href='#f_16'><small>[16]</small></a> but do not see
+him. Go to the Tomb. Shelley goes to Longdill&#8217;s. Return soon. Read
+Spenser; construe Ovid.... After dinner talk with Shelley; then
+Shelley and Clara go out.... Fanny<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> comes; she tells us of Marshall&#8217;s
+servant&#8217;s death. Papa is to see Mrs. Knapp to-morrow. Read Spenser.
+Walk home with Fanny and with Shelley.... Shelley reads Seneca.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, May 8.</i>&mdash;Go out with Shelley to Mrs. Knapp; not at home. Buy
+Shelley a pencil-case. Return at 1. Read Spenser. Go again with
+Shelley to Mrs. Knapp; she cannot take Clara. Read Spenser after
+dinner. Clara goes out with Shelley. Talk with Jefferson (Hogg); write
+to Marshall. Read Spenser. They return at 8. Very tired; go to bed
+early. Jefferson scolds.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, May 10.</i>&mdash;Not very well; rise late. Walk to Marshall&#8217;s,
+and talk with him for an hour. Go with Jefferson and Shelley to
+British Museum&mdash;attend most to the statues; return at 2. Construe
+Ovid. After dinner construe Ovid (100 lines); finish second book of
+Spenser, and read two cantos of the third. Shelley reads Seneca every
+day and all day.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, May 12.</i>&mdash;Not very well. After breakfast read Spenser.
+Shelley goes out with his friend; he returns first. Construe Ovid (90
+lines); read Spenser. Jefferson returns at half-past 4, and tells us
+that poor Sawyer is to be hung. These blessed laws! After dinner read
+Spenser. Read over the Ovid to Jefferson, and construe about ten lines
+more. Read Spenser. Shelley and the lady walk out. After tea, talk;
+write Greek characters. Shelley and his friend have a last
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, May 13.</i>&mdash;Clara goes; Shelley walks with her. C. C. comes
+to breakfast; talk. Shelley goes out with him. Read Spenser all day
+(finish Canto 8, Book V.) Jefferson does not come till 5. Get very
+anxious about Shelley; go out to meet him; return; it rains. Shelley
+returns at half-past 6; the business is finished. After dinner Shelley
+is very tired, and goes to sleep. Read Ovid (60 lines). C. C. comes to
+tea. Talk of pictures.</p>
+
+<p>(Mary).&mdash;A tablespoonful of the spirit of aniseed, with a small
+quantity of spermaceti.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>(Shelley)&mdash;9 drops of human blood, 7 grains of gunpowder, &#189; oz. of
+putrified brain, 13 mashed grave worms&mdash;the Pecksie&#8217;s doom salve.</p>
+
+<p>The Maie and her Elfin Knight.</p>
+
+<p>I begin a new journal with our regeneration.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">May 1815-September 1816</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Our regeneration&#8221; meant, in other words, the departure of Jane or &#8220;Clara&#8221;
+Clairmont who, on the plea of needing change of air, went off by herself
+into cottage lodgings at Lynmouth, in North Devon. She had never shown any
+very great desire to go back to her family in Skinner Street, but even had
+it been otherwise, objections had now been raised to her presence there
+which made her return difficult if not impossible. Fanny Godwin&#8217;s aunts,
+Everina Wollstonecraft and Mrs. Bishop, were Principals of a select
+Ladies&#8217; School in Dublin, and intended that, on their own retirement,
+their niece should succeed them in its management. They strongly objected
+now to her associating with Miss Clairmont, pointing out that, even if her
+morals were not injured, her professional prospects must be marred by the
+fact being generally known of her connection and companionship with a girl
+who undoubtedly had run away from home, and who was, untruly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> but not
+groundlessly, reported to be concerned in a notorious scandal.</p>
+
+<p>Her continued presence in the Shelley household, a thing probably never
+contemplated at the time of their hurried flight, was manifestly
+undesirable, on many grounds. To Mary it was a perpetual trial, and must,
+in the end, have tended towards disagreement between her and Shelley,
+while it put Clara herself at great and unjust social disadvantage. Not
+that she heeded that, or regretted the barrier that divided her from
+Skinner Street, where poverty and anxiety and gloom reigned paramount, and
+where she would have been watched with ceaseless and unconcealed
+suspicion. She had heard that her relations had even discussed the
+advisability of immuring her in a convent if she could be caught,&mdash;but she
+did not mean to be caught. She advertised for a situation as companion;
+nothing, however, came of this. An idea of sending her to board in the
+family of a Mrs. Knapp seems to have been entertained for some months both
+by Godwins and Shelleys, Charles Clairmont probably acting as a medium
+between the two households. But, after appearing well disposed at first,
+Mrs. Knapp thought better of the plan. She did not want, and would not
+have Clara. The final project, that of the Lynmouth lodgings, was a sudden
+idea, suddenly carried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> out, and devised with the Shelleys independently
+of the Godwins, who were not consulted, nor even informed, until it had
+been put into execution. So much is to be gathered from the letter which
+Clara wrote to Fanny a fortnight after her arrival.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Clara to Fanny.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><i>Sunday, 28th May 1815.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My Dear Fanny</span>&mdash;Mary writes me that you thought me unkind in not
+letting you know before my departure; indeed, I meant no unkindness,
+but I was afraid if I told you that it might prevent my putting a plan
+into execution which I preferred before all the Mrs. Knapps in the
+world. Here I am at liberty; there I should have been under a
+perpetual restraint. Mrs. Knapp is a forward, impertinent, superficial
+woman. Here there are none such; a few cottages, with little,
+rosy-faced children, scolding wives, and drunken husbands. I wish I
+had a more amiable and romantic picture to present to you, such as
+shepherds and shepherdesses, flocks and madrigals; but this is the
+truth, and the truth is best at all times. I live in a little cottage,
+with jasmine and honeysuckle twining over the window; a little
+downhill garden full of roses, with a sweet arbour. There are only two
+gentlemen&#8217;s seats here, and they are both absent. The walks and
+shrubberies are quite open, and are very delightful. Mr. Foote&#8217;s
+stands at top of the hill, and commands distant views of the whole
+country. A green tottering bridge, flung from rock to rock, joins his
+garden to his house, and his side of the bridge is a waterfall. One
+tumbles directly down, and then flows gently onward, while the other
+falls successively down five rocks, and seems like water running down
+stone steps. I will tell you, so far, that it is a valley I live in,
+and perhaps one you may have seen. Two ridges of mountains enclose the
+village, which is situated at the west end. A river, which you may
+step over, runs at the foot of the mountains, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> trees hang so
+closely over, that when on a high eminence you sometimes lose sight of
+it for a quarter of a mile. One ridge of hills is entirely covered
+with luxuriant trees, the opposite line is entirely bare, with long
+pathways of slate and gray rocks, so that you might almost fancy they
+had once been volcanic. Well, enough of the valleys and the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>You told me you did not think I should ever be able to live alone. If
+you knew my constant tranquillity, how cheerful and gay I am, perhaps
+you would alter your opinion. I am perfectly happy. After so much
+discontent, such violent scenes, such a turmoil of passion and hatred,
+you will hardly believe how enraptured I am with this dear little
+quiet spot. I am as happy when I go to bed as when I rise. I am never
+disappointed, for I know the extent of my pleasures; and let it rain
+or let it be fair weather, it does not disturb my serene mood. This is
+happiness; this is that serene and uninterrupted rest I have long
+wished for. It is in solitude that the powers concentre round the
+soul, and teach it the calm, determined path of virtue and wisdom. Did
+you not find this&mdash;did you not find that the majestic and tranquil
+mountains impressed deep and tranquil thoughts, and that everything
+conspired to give a sober temperature of mind, more truly delightful
+and satisfying than the gayest ebullitions of mirth?</p>
+
+<p class="poem">The foaming cataract and tall rock<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Haunt me like a passion.</span></p>
+
+<p>Now for a little chatting. I was quite delighted to hear that Papa had
+at last got &pound;1000. Riches seem to fly from genius. I suppose, for a
+month or two, you will be easy&mdash;pray be cheerful. I begin to think
+there is no situation without its advantages. You may learn wisdom and
+fortitude in adversity, and in prosperity you may relieve and soothe.
+I feel anxious to be wise; to be capable of knowing the best; of
+following resolutely, however painful, what mature and serious thought
+may prescribe; and of acquiring a prompt and vigorous judgment, and
+powers capable of execution. What are you reading? Tell Charles, with
+my best love, that I will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> never forgive him for having disappointed
+me of Wordsworth, which I miss very much. Ask him, likewise, to lend
+me his Coleridge&#8217;s poems, which I will take great care of. How is dear
+Willy? How is every one? If circumstances get easy, don&#8217;t you think
+Papa and Mamma will go down to the seaside to get up their health a
+little? Write me a very long letter, and tell me everything. How is
+your health? Now do not be melancholy; for heaven&#8217;s sake be cheerful;
+so young in life, and so melancholy! The moon shines in at my window,
+there is a roar of waters, and the owls are hooting. How often do I
+not wish for a curfew!&mdash;&#8220;swinging slow with sullen roar!&#8221; Pray write
+to me. Do, there&#8217;s a good Fanny.&mdash;Affectionately yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">M. J. Clairmont</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Miss Fanny Godwin,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">41 Skinner Street, Snow Hill, London.</span></p></div>
+
+<p>How long this delightful life of solitude lasted is not exactly known. For
+a year after this time both Clara&#8217;s journal and that of Shelley and Mary
+are lost, and the next thing we hear of Clara is her being in town in the
+spring of 1816, when she first made Lord Byron&#8217;s acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>Mary, at any rate, enjoyed nearly a year of comparative peace and
+<i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i> with Shelley, which, after all she had gone through, must
+have been happiness indeed. Had she known that it was the only year she
+would ever pass with him without the presence of a third person, it may be
+that&mdash;although her loyalty to Shelley stood every test&mdash;her heart might
+have sunk within her. But, happily for her, she could not foresee this.
+Her letter from Clifton shows that Clara&#8217;s shadow haunted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> her at times.
+Still she was happy, and at peace. Her health, too, was better; and,
+though always weighed down by Godwin&#8217;s anxieties, she and Shelley were,
+themselves, free for once from the pinch of actual penury and the
+perpetual fear of arrest.</p>
+
+<p>In June they made a tour in South Devon, and very probably paid Clara a
+visit in her rural retirement; after which Mary stayed for some time at
+Clifton, while Shelley travelled about looking for a country house to suit
+them. It was during one of his absences that Mary wrote to him the letter
+referred to above.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary to Shelley.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Clifton</span>, <i>27th July 1815</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My beloved Shelley</span>&mdash;What I am now going to say is not a freak from a
+fit of low spirits, but it is what I earnestly entreat you to attend
+to and comply with.</p>
+
+<p>We ought not to be absent any longer; indeed we ought not. I am not
+happy at it. When I retire to my room, no sweet love; after dinner, no
+Shelley; though I have heaps of things <i>very particular</i> to say; in
+fine, either you must come back, or I must come to you directly. You
+will say, shall we neglect taking a house&mdash;a dear home? No, my love, I
+would not for worlds give up that; but I know what seeking for a house
+is, and, trust me, it is a very, <i>very</i> long job, too long for one
+love to undertake in the absence of the other. Dearest, I know how it
+will be; we shall both of us be put off, day after day, with the hopes
+of the success of the next day&#8217;s search, for I am frightened to think
+how long. Do you not see it in this light, my own love? We have been
+now a long time separated, and a house is not yet in sight; and even
+if you should fix on one, which I do not hope for in less than a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
+week, then the settling, etc. Indeed, my love, I cannot bear to remain
+so long without you; so, if you will not give me leave, expect me
+without it some day; and, indeed, it is very likely that you may, for
+I am quite sick of passing day after day in this hopeless way.</p>
+
+<p>Pray, is Clara with you? for I have inquired several times and no
+letters; but, seriously, it would not in the least surprise me, if you
+have written to her from London, and let her know that you are without
+me, that she should have taken some such freak.</p>
+
+<p>The Dormouse has hid the brooch; and, pray, why am I for ever and ever
+to be denied the sight of my case? Have you got it in your own
+possession? or where is it? It would give me very great pleasure if
+you would send it me. I hope you have not already appropriated it, for
+if you have I shall think it un-Pecksie of you, as Maie was to give it
+you with her own hands on your birthday; but it is of little
+consequence, for I have no hope of seeing you on that day; but I am
+mistaken, for I have hope and certainty, for if you are not here on or
+before the 3d of August, I set off on the 4th, in early coach, so as
+to be with you in the evening of that dear day at least.</p>
+
+<p>To-morrow is the 28th of July. Dearest, ought we not to have been
+together on that day? Indeed we ought, my love, as I shall shed some
+tears to think we are not. Do not be angry, dear love; your Pecksie is
+a good girl, and is quite well now again, except a headache, when she
+waits so anxiously for her love&#8217;s letters.</p>
+
+<p>Dearest, best Shelley, pray come to me; pray, pray do not stay away
+from me! This is delightful weather, and you better, we might have a
+delightful excursion to Tintern Abbey. My dear, dear love, I most
+earnestly, and with tearful eyes, beg that I may come to you if you do
+not like to leave the searches after a house.</p>
+
+<p>It is a long time to wait, even for an answer. To-morrow may bring you
+news, but I have no hope, for you only set off to look after one in
+the afternoon, and what can be done at that hour of the day? You
+cannot.</p></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>They finally settled on a house at Bishopsgate just outside Windsor Park,
+where they passed several months of tranquillity and comparative health;
+perhaps the most peacefully happy time that Shelley had ever known or was
+ever to know. Shadows he, too, had to haunt him, but he was young, and the
+reaction from the long-continued strain of anxiety, fear, discomfort, and
+ill-health was so strong that it is no wonder if he yielded himself up to
+its influence. The summer was warm and dry, and most of the time was
+passed out of doors. They visited the source of the Thames, making the
+voyage in a wherry from Windsor to Cricklade. Charles Clairmont was of the
+party, and Peacock also, who gives a humorous account of the expedition,
+and of the cure he effected of Shelley&#8217;s ailments by his prescription of
+&#8220;three mutton chops, well peppered.&#8221; Shelley was at this time a strict
+vegetarian. Mary, Peacock says, kept a diary of the excursion, which,
+however, has been lost. Shelley&#8217;s &#8220;Stanzas in the churchyard of Lechlade&#8221;
+were an enduring memento of the occasion. At Bishopsgate, under the oak
+shades of Windsor Great Park, he composed <i>Alastor</i>, the first mature
+production of his genius, and at Bishopsgate Mary&#8217;s son William was born,
+on 24th January 1816.</p>
+
+<p>The list of books read during 1815 by Shelley<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> and Mary is worth
+appending, as giving some idea of their wonderful mental activity and
+insatiable thirst for knowledge, and the singular sympathy which existed
+between them in these intellectual pursuits.</p>
+
+<p class="center">LIST OF BOOKS READ IN 1815.</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table">
+<tr><td align="center">MARY.<br /><i>Those marked * Shelley read also.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td>Posthumous Works. 3 vols.<br />
+Sorrows of Werter.<br />
+Don Roderick. By Southey.<br />
+*Gibbon&#8217;s Decline and Fall 12 vols.<br />
+*Gibbon&#8217;s Life and Letters. 1st Edition. 2 vols.<br />
+*Lara.<br />
+New Arabian Knights. 3 vols.<br />
+Corinna.<br />
+Fall of the Jesuits.<br />
+Rinaldo Rinaldini.<br />
+Fontenelle&#8217;s Plurality of Worlds.<br />
+Hermsprong.<br />
+Le Diable Boiteux.<br />
+Man as he is.<br />
+Rokeby.<br />
+Ovid&#8217;s Metamorphoses in Latin.<br />
+*Wordsworth&#8217;s Poems.<br />
+*Spenser&#8217;s Fairy Queen.<br />
+*Life of the Phillips.<br />
+*Fox&#8217;s History of James II.<br />
+The Reflector.<br />
+Fleetwood.<br />
+Wieland.<br />
+Don Carlos.<br />
+*Peter Wilkins.<br />
+Rousseau&#8217;s Confessions.<br />
+Leonora: a Poem.<br />
+Emile.<br />
+*Milton&#8217;s Paradise Lost.<br />
+*Life of Lady Hamilton.<br />
+De l&#8217;Allemagne. By Madame de Sta&euml;l.<br />
+Three vols, of Barruet.<br />
+*Caliph Vathek.<br />
+Nouvelle Heloise.<br />
+*Kotzebue&#8217;s Account of his Banishment to Siberia.<br />
+Waverley.<br />
+Clarissa Harlowe.<br />
+Robertson&#8217;s History of America.<br />
+*Virgil.<br />
+*Tale of a Tub.<br />
+*Milton&#8217;s Speech on Unlicensed Printing.<br />
+*Curse of Kehama.<br />
+*Madoc.<br />
+La Bible Expliqu&eacute;e.<br />
+Lives of Abelard and Heloise.<br />
+*The New Testament.<br />
+*Coleridge&#8217;s Poems.<br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>First vol. of Syst&egrave;me de la Nature.<br />
+Castle of Indolence.<br />
+Chatterton&#8217;s Poems.<br />
+*Paradise Regained.<br />
+Don Carlos.<br />
+*Lycidas.<br />
+*St. Leon.<br />
+Shakespeare&#8217;s Plays (part of which Shelley read aloud).<br />
+*Burke&#8217;s Account of Civil Society.<br />
+*Excursion.<br />
+Pope&#8217;s Homer&#8217;s Illiad.<br />
+*Sallust.<br />
+Micromejas.<br />
+*Life of Chaucer.<br />
+Canterbury Tales.<br />
+Peruvian Letters.<br />
+Voyages round the World.<br />
+Plutarch&#8217;s Lives.<br />
+*Two vols, of Gibbon.<br />
+Ormond.<br />
+Hugh Trevor.<br />
+*Labaume&#8217;s History of the Russian War.<br />
+Lewis&#8217;s Tales.<br />
+Castle of Udolpho.<br />
+Guy Mannering.<br />
+*Charles XII by Voltaire.<br />
+Tales of the East.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center">SHELLEY.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Pastor Fido.<br />
+Orlando Furioso.<br />
+Livy&#8217;s History.<br />
+Seneca&#8217;s Works.<br />
+Tasso&#8217;s Gerusalemme Liberata.<br />
+Tasso&#8217;s Aminta.<br />
+Two vols. of Plutarch in Italian.<br />
+Some of the Plays of Euripides.<br />
+Seneca&#8217;s Tragedies.<br />
+Reveries of Rousseau.<br />
+Hesoid.<br />
+Novum Organum.<br />
+Alfieri&#8217;s Tragedies.<br />
+Theocritus.<br />
+Ossian.<br />
+Herodotus.<br />
+Thucydides.<br />
+Homer.<br />
+Locke on the Human Understanding.<br />
+Conspiration de Rienzi.<br />
+History of Arianism.<br />
+Ockley&#8217;s History of the Saracens.<br />
+Madame de Sta&euml;l sur la Literature.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>These months of rest were needed to fit them for the year of shocks, of
+blows, of conflicting emotions which was to follow. As usual, the first
+disturbing cause was Clara Clairmont. Early in 1816 she was in town,
+possibly with her brother Charles, with whom she kept up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> correspondence,
+and with whom (thanks to funds provided by Shelley) she had in the autumn
+been travelling, or paying visits. She now started one of her &#8220;wild
+projects in the Clairmont style,&#8221; which brought as its consequence the
+overshadowing of her whole life. She thought she would like to go on the
+stage, and she applied to Lord Byron, then connected with the management
+of Drury Lane Theatre, for some theatrical employment. The fascination of
+Byron&#8217;s poetry, joined to his very shady social reputation, surrounded him
+with a kind of romantic mystery highly interesting to a wayward, audacious
+young spirit, attracted by anything that excited its curiosity. Clara
+never went on the stage. But she became Byron&#8217;s mistress. Their connection
+lasted but a short time. Byron quickly tired of her, and when importuned
+with her or her affairs, soon came to look on her with positive antipathy.
+Nothing in Clara&#8217;s letters to him<a name='fna_17' id='fna_17' href='#f_17'><small>[17]</small></a> goes to prove that she was very
+deeply in love with him. The episode was an excitement and an adventure:
+one, to him, of the most trivial nature, but fraught with tragic indirect
+results to her, and, through her, to the Shelleys. They, although they
+knew of her acquaintance with Byron, were in complete and unsuspecting
+ignorance of its intimate nature. It might have been imagined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> that Clara
+would confide in them, and would even rejoice in doing so. But she had, on
+the contrary, a positive horror and dread of their finding out anything
+about her secret. She told Byron who Mary was, one evening when she knew
+they were to meet, but implored him beforehand to talk only on general
+subjects, and, if possible, not even to mention her name.</p>
+
+<p>This introduction probably took place in March, when Shelley and Mary
+were, for a short time, staying up in town. Shelley was occupied in
+transacting business, which had reference, as usual, to Godwin&#8217;s affairs.
+A suit in Chancery was proceeding, to enable him to sell, to his father,
+the reversion of a portion of his estates. Short of obtaining this
+permission, he could not assist Godwin to the full extent demanded and
+expected by this latter, who chose to say, and was encouraged by his man
+of business to think that, if Shelley did not get the money, it was owing
+to slackness of effort or inclination on his part. The suit was, however,
+finally decided against Shelley. The correspondence between him and Godwin
+was painful in the highest degree, and must have embittered Mary&#8217;s
+existence.</p>
+
+<p>Godwin, while leaving no stone unturned to get as much of Shelley&#8217;s money
+as possible, and while exerting himself with feverish activity to control
+and direct to his own advantage the legal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> negotiations for disposal of
+part of the Shelley estates, yet declined personal communication with
+Shelley, and wrote to him in insulting terms, carrying sophistry so far as
+to assert that his dignity (save the mark!) would be compromised, not by
+taking Shelley&#8217;s money, but by taking it in the form of a cheque made out
+in his, Godwin&#8217;s, own name. Small wonder if Shelley was wounded and
+indignant. More than any one else, Godwin had taught and encouraged him to
+despise what he would have called prejudice.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;In my judgment,&#8221; wrote Shelley, &#8220;neither I, nor your daughter, nor
+her offspring, ought to receive the treatment which we encounter on
+every side. It has perpetually appeared to me to have been your
+especial duty to see that, so far as mankind value your good opinion,
+we were dealt justly by, and that a young family, innocent, and
+benevolent, and united should not be confounded with prostitutes and
+seducers. My astonishment&mdash;and I will confess, when I have been
+treated with most harshness and cruelty by you, my indignation&mdash;has
+been extreme, that, knowing as you do my nature, any consideration
+should have prevailed on you to be thus harsh and cruel. I lamented
+also over my ruined hopes, of all that your genius once taught me to
+expect from your virtue, when I found that for yourself, your family,
+and your creditors, you would submit to that communication with me
+which you once rejected and abhorred, and which no pity for my poverty
+or sufferings, assumed willingly for you, could avail to extort. Do
+not talk of <i>forgiveness</i> again to me, for my blood boils in my veins,
+and my gall rises against all that bears the human form, when I think
+of what I, their benefactor and ardent lover, have endured of enmity
+and contempt from you and from all mankind.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>That other, ordinary, people should resent his avowed opposition to
+conventional morality was, even to Shelley, less of an enigma than that
+Godwin, from whom he expected support, should turn against him. Yet he
+never could clearly realise the aspect which his relations with Mary bore
+to the world, who merely saw in him a married man who had deserted his
+wife and eloped with a girl of sixteen. He thought people should
+understand all he knew, and credit him with all he did not tell them; that
+they should sympathise and fraternise with him, and honour Mary the more,
+not the less, for what she had done and dared. Instead of this, the world
+accepted his family&#8217;s estimate of its unfortunate eldest son, and cut him.
+It is no wonder that, as Peacock puts it, &#8220;the spirit of restlessness came
+over him again,&#8221; and drove him abroad once more. His first intention was
+to settle with Mary and their infant child in some remote region of
+Scotland or Northern England. But he was at all times delicate, and he
+longed for balmy air and sunny skies. To these motives were added Clara&#8217;s
+wishes, and, as she herself states, her pressing solicitations. Byron, she
+knew, was going to Geneva, and she persuaded the Shelleys to go there
+also, in the hope and intention of meeting him. Shelley had read and
+admired several of Byron&#8217;s poems, and the prospect of possible
+companionship with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> kindred mind was now and at all times supremely
+attractive to him. He had made repeated, but fruitless efforts to get a
+personal interview with Godwin, in the hope, probably, of coming to some
+definite understanding as to his hopelessly involved and intricate
+affairs. Godwin went off to Scotland on literary business and was absent
+all April. Before he returned Shelley, Mary, and Clara had started for
+Switzerland. The Shelleys were still ignorant and unsuspecting of the
+intrigue between Byron and Clara. Byron, knowing of Clara&#8217;s wish to follow
+him to Geneva, enjoined her on no account to come alone or without
+protection, as he knew she was capable of doing; hence her determinate
+wish that the Shelleys should come. She wrote to Byron from Paris to tell
+him that she was so far on her way, accompanied by &#8220;the whole tribe of
+Otaheite philosophers,&#8221; as she styles her friends and escort. Just before
+sailing from Dover Shelley wrote to Godwin, who was still in Scotland,
+telling him finally of the unsuccessful issue to his Chancery suit, of his
+doubtful and limited prospects of income or of ability to pay more than
+&pound;300 for Godwin, and that only some months hence. He referred again to his
+painful position in England, and his present determination to remain
+abroad,&mdash;perhaps for ever,&mdash;with the exception of a possible, solitary,
+visit to London, should business make this inevitable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> He touched on his
+old obligations to Godwin, assuring him of his continued respect and
+admiration in spite of the painful past, and of his regret for any too
+vehement words he might have used.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">It is unfortunate for me that the part of your character which is
+least excellent should have been met by my convictions of what was
+right to do. But I have been too indignant, I have been unjust to
+you&mdash;forgive me&mdash;burn those letters which contain the records of my
+violence, and believe that however what you erroneously call fame and
+honour separate us, I shall always feel towards you as the most
+affectionate of friends.</p>
+
+<p>The travellers reached Geneva by the middle of May; their arrival
+preceding that of Byron by several days. A letter written by Mary Shelley
+from their first resting-place, the H&ocirc;tel de S&eacute;cheron, the descriptive
+portions of which were afterwards published by her, with the <i>Journal of a
+Six Weeks Tour</i>, gives a graphic account of their journey and their first
+impressions of Geneva.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">H&ocirc;tel de S&eacute;cheron, Geneva</span>,<br />
+<span style="padding-right: 2em;"><i>17th May 1816</i>.</span></p>
+
+<p>We arrived at Paris on the 8th of this month, and were detained two
+days for the purpose of obtaining the various signatures necessary to
+our passports, the French Government having become much more
+circumspect since the escape of Lavalette. We had no letters of
+introduction, or any friend in that city, and were therefore confined
+to our hotel, where we were obliged to hire apartments for the week,
+although, when we first arrived, we expected to be detained one night
+only; for in Paris there are no houses where you can be accommodated
+with apartments by the day.</p>
+
+<p>The manners of the French are interesting, although less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> attractive,
+at least to Englishmen, than before the last invasion of the Allies;
+the discontent and sullenness of their minds perpetually betrays
+itself. Nor is it wonderful that they should regard the subjects of a
+Government which fills their country with hostile garrisons, and
+sustains a detested dynasty on the throne, with an acrimony and
+indignation of which that Government alone is the proper object. This
+feeling is honourable to the French, and encouraging to all those of
+every nation in Europe who have a fellow-feeling with the oppressed,
+and who cherish an unconquerable hope that the cause of liberty must
+at length prevail.</p>
+
+<p>Our route after Paris as far as Troyes lay through the same
+uninteresting tract of country which we had traversed on foot nearly
+two years before, but on quitting Troyes we left the road leading to
+Neufch&acirc;tel, to follow that which was to conduct us to Geneva. We
+entered Dijon on the third evening after our departure from Paris, and
+passing through D&ocirc;le, arrived at Poligny. This town is built at the
+foot of Jura, which rises abruptly from a plain of vast extent. The
+rocks of the mountain overhang the houses. Some difficulty in
+procuring horses detained us here until the evening closed in, when we
+proceeded by the light of a stormy moon to Champagnolles, a little
+village situated in the depth of the mountains. The road was
+serpentine and exceedingly steep, and was overhung on one side by
+half-distinguished precipices, whilst the other was a gulf, filled by
+the darkness of the driving clouds. The dashing of the invisible
+streams announced to us that we had quitted the plains of France, as
+we slowly ascended amidst a violent storm of wind and rain, to
+Champagnolles, where we arrived at twelve o&#8217;clock the fourth night
+after our departure from Paris. The next morning we proceeded, still
+ascending among the ravines and valleys of the mountain. The scenery
+perpetually grows more wonderful and sublime; pine forests of
+impenetrable thickness and untrodden, nay, inaccessible expanse spread
+on every side. Sometimes the dark woods descending follow the route
+into the valleys, the distorted trees struggling with knotted roots<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>
+between the most barren clefts; sometimes the road winds high into the
+regions of frost, and then the forests become scattered, and the
+branches of the trees are loaded with snow, and half of the enormous
+pines themselves buried in the wavy drifts. The spring, as the
+inhabitants informed us, was unusually late, and indeed the cold was
+excessive; as we ascended the mountains the same clouds which rained
+on us in the valleys poured forth large flakes of snow thick and fast.
+The sun occasionally shone through these showers, and illuminated the
+magnificent ravines of the mountains, whose gigantic pines were, some
+laden with snow, some wreathed round by the lines of scattered and
+lingering vapour; others darting their spires into the sunny sky,
+brilliantly clear and azure.</p>
+
+<p>As the evening advanced, and we ascended higher, the snow, which we
+had beheld whitening the overhanging rocks, now encroached upon our
+road, and it snowed fast as we entered the village of Les Rousses,
+where we were threatened by the apparent necessity of passing the
+night in a bad inn and dirty beds. For, from that place there are two
+roads to Geneva; one by Nion, in the Swiss territory, where the
+mountain route is shorter and comparatively easy at that time of the
+year, when the road is for several leagues covered with snow of an
+enormous depth; the other road lay through Gex, and was too circuitous
+and dangerous to be attempted at so late an hour in the day. Our
+passport, however, was for Gex, and we were told that we could not
+change its destination; but all these police laws, so severe in
+themselves, are to be softened by bribery, and this difficulty was at
+length overcome. We hired four horses, and ten men to support the
+carriage, and departed from Les Rousses at six in the evening, when
+the sun had already far descended, and the snow pelting against the
+windows of our carriage assisted the coming darkness to deprive us of
+the view of the lake of Geneva and the far-distant Alps.</p>
+
+<p>The prospect around, however, was sufficiently sublime to command our
+attention&mdash;never was scene more awfully desolate. The trees in these
+regions are incredibly large, and stand in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> scattered clumps over the
+white wilderness; the vast expanse of snow was chequered only by these
+gigantic pines, and the poles that marked our road; no river nor
+rock-encircled lawn relieved the eye, by adding the picturesque to the
+sublime. The natural silence of that uninhabited desert contrasted
+strangely with the voices of the men who conducted us, who, with
+animated tones and gestures, called to one another in a <i>patois</i>
+composed of French and Italian, creating disturbance where, but for
+them, there was none. To what a different scene are we now arrived! To
+the warm sunshine, and to the humming of sun-loving insects. From the
+windows of our hotel we see the lovely lake, blue as the heavens which
+it reflects, and sparkling with golden beams. The opposite shore is
+sloping and covered with vines, which, however, do not so early in the
+season add to the beauty of the prospect. Gentlemen&#8217;s seats are
+scattered over these banks, behind which rise the various ridges of
+black mountains, and towering far above, in the midst of its snowy
+Alps, the majestic Mont Blanc, highest and queen of all. Such is the
+view reflected by the lake; it is a bright summer scene without any of
+that sacred solitude and deep seclusion that delighted us at Lucerne.
+We have not yet found out any very agreeable walks, but you know our
+attachment to water excursions. We have hired a boat, and every
+evening, at about six o&#8217;clock, we sail on the lake, which is
+delightful, whether we glide over a glassy surface or are speeded
+along by a strong wind. The waves of this lake never afflict me with
+that sickness that deprives me of all enjoyment in a sea-voyage; on
+the contrary, the tossing of our boat raises my spirits and inspires
+me with unusual hilarity. Twilight here is of short duration, but we
+at present enjoy the benefit of an increasing moon, and seldom return
+until ten o&#8217;clock, when, as we approach the shore, we are saluted by
+the delightful scent of flowers and new-mown grass, and the chirp of
+the grasshoppers, and the song of the evening birds.</p>
+
+<p>We do not enter into society here, yet our time passes swiftly and
+delightfully.</p>
+
+<p>We read Latin and Italian during the heats of noon, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> when the sun
+declines we walk in the garden of the hotel, looking at the rabbits,
+relieving fallen cockchafers, and watching the motions of a myriad of
+lizards, who inhabit a southern wall of the garden. You know that we
+have just escaped from the gloom of winter and of London; and coming
+to this delightful spot during this divine weather, I feel as happy as
+a new-fledged bird, and hardly care what twig I fly to, so that I may
+try my new-found wings. A more experienced bird may be more difficult
+in its choice of a bower; but, in my present temper of mind, the
+budding flowers, the fresh grass of spring, and the happy creatures
+about me that live and enjoy these pleasures, are quite enough to
+afford me exquisite delight, even though clouds should shut out Mont
+Blanc from my sight. Adieu!</p>
+
+<p class="signa">M. S.</p></div>
+
+<p>On the 25th of May Byron, accompanied by his young Italian physician,
+Polidori, and attended by three men-servants, arrived at the H&ocirc;tel de
+S&eacute;cheron. It was now that he and Shelley became for the first time
+personally acquainted; an acquaintance which, though it never did and
+never could ripen quite into friendship, developed with time and
+circumstances into an association more or less familiar which lasted all
+Shelley&#8217;s life. After the arrival of the English Milord and his retinue,
+the hotel quarters probably became less quiet and comfortable, and before
+June the Shelleys, with Clare<a name='fna_18' id='fna_18' href='#f_18'><small>[18]</small></a> (who, while her secret remained a
+secret, must have found it inexpedient to live under the same roof with
+Byron) moved to a cottage on the other side of the lake, near Coligny;
+known as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> Maison Chapuis, but sometimes called Campagne Mont Al&egrave;gre.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Campagne Chapuis, near Coligny</span>,<br />
+<span style="padding-right: 2em;"><i>1st June</i>.</span></p>
+
+<p>You will perceive from my date that we have changed our residence
+since my last letter. We now inhabit a little cottage on the opposite
+shore of the lake, and have exchanged the view of Mont Blanc and her
+snowy <i>aiguilles</i> for the dark frowning Jura, behind whose range we
+every evening see the sun sink, and darkness approaches our valley
+from behind the Alps, which are then tinged by that glowing rose-like
+hue which is observed in England to attend on the clouds of an
+autumnal sky when daylight is almost gone. The lake is at our feet,
+and a little harbour contains our boat, in which we still enjoy our
+evening excursions on the water. Unfortunately we do not now enjoy
+those brilliant skies that hailed us on our first arrival to this
+country. An almost perpetual rain confines us principally to the
+house; but when the sun bursts forth it is with a splendour and heat
+unknown in England. The thunderstorms that visit us are grander and
+more terrific than I have ever seen before. We watch them as they
+approach from the opposite side of the lake, observing the lightning
+play among the clouds in various parts of the heavens, and dart in
+jagged figures upon the piny heights of Jura, dark with the shadow of
+the overhanging clouds, while perhaps the sun is shining cheerily upon
+us. One night we <i>enjoyed</i> a finer storm than I had ever before
+beheld. The lake was lit up, the pines on Jura made visible, and all
+the scene illuminated for an instant, when a pitchy blackness
+succeeded, and the thunder came in frightful bursts over our heads
+amid the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>But while I still dwell on the country around Geneva, you will expect
+me to say something of the town itself; there is nothing, however, in
+it that can repay you for the trouble of walking over its rough
+stones. The houses are high, the streets narrow, many of them on the
+ascent, and no public building of any beauty to attract your eye, or
+any architecture<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> to gratify your taste. The town is surrounded by a
+wall, the three gates of which are shut exactly at ten o&#8217;clock, when
+no bribery (as in France) can open them. To the south of the town is
+the promenade of the Genevese, a grassy plain planted with a few
+trees, and called Plainpalais. Here a small obelisk is erected to the
+glory of Rousseau, and here (such is the mutability of human life) the
+magistrates, the successors of those who exiled him from his native
+country, were shot by the populace during that revolution which his
+writings mainly contributed to mature, and which, notwithstanding the
+temporary bloodshed and injustice with which it was polluted, has
+produced enduring benefits to mankind, which not all the chicanery of
+statesmen, nor even the great conspiracy of kings, can entirely render
+vain. From respect to the memory of their predecessors, none of the
+present magistrates ever walk in Plainpalais. Another Sunday
+recreation for the citizens is an excursion to the top of Mont Sal&egrave;re.
+This hill is within a league of the town, and rises perpendicularly
+from the cultivated plain. It is ascended on the other side, and I
+should judge from its situation that your toil is rewarded by a
+delightful view of the course of the Rhone and Arne, and of the shores
+of the lake. We have not yet visited it. There is more equality of
+classes here than in England. This occasions a greater freedom and
+refinement of manners among the lower orders than we meet with in our
+own country. I fancy the haughty English ladies are greatly disgusted
+with this consequence of republican institutions, for the Genevese
+servants complain very much of their <i>scolding</i>, an exercise of the
+tongue, I believe, perfectly unknown here. The peasants of Switzerland
+may not however emulate the vivacity and grace of the French. They are
+more cleanly, but they are slow and inapt. I know a girl of twenty
+who, although she had lived all her life among vineyards, could not
+inform me during what month the vintage took place, and I discovered
+she was utterly ignorant of the order in which the months succeed one
+another. She would not have been surprised if I had talked of the
+burning sun and delicious fruits of December, or of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> the frosts of
+July. Yet she is by no means deficient in understanding.</p>
+
+<p>The Genevese are also much inclined to puritanism. It is true that
+from habit they dance on a Sunday, but as soon as the French
+Government was abolished in the town, the magistrates ordered the
+theatre to be closed, and measures were taken to pull down the
+building.</p>
+
+<p>We have latterly enjoyed fine weather, and nothing is more pleasant
+than to listen to the evening song of the wine-dressers. They are all
+women, and most of them have harmonious although masculine voices. The
+theme of their ballads consists of shepherds, love, flocks, and the
+sons of kings who fall in love with beautiful shepherdesses. Their
+tunes are monotonous, but it is sweet to hear them in the stillness of
+evening, while we are enjoying the sight of the setting sun, either
+from the hill behind our house or from the lake.</p>
+
+<p>Such are our pleasures here, which would be greatly increased if the
+season had been more favourable, for they chiefly consist in such
+enjoyments as sunshine and gentle breezes bestow. We have not yet made
+any excursion in the environs of the town, but we have planned
+several, when you shall again hear of us; and we will endeavour, by
+the magic of words, to transport the ethereal part of you to the
+neighbourhood of the Alps, and mountain streams, and forests, which,
+while they clothe the former, darken the latter with their vast
+shadows.&mdash;Adieu!</p>
+
+<p class="signa">M.</p></div>
+
+<p>Less than a fortnight after this Byron also left the hotel, annoyed beyond
+endurance by the unbounded curiosity of which he was the object. He
+established himself at the Villa Diodati, on the hill above the Shelleys&#8217;
+cottage, from which it was separated by a vineyard. Both he and Shelley
+were devoted to boating, and passed much time on the water, on one
+occasion narrowly escaping being drowned. Visits from one house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> to the
+other were of daily occurrence. The evenings were generally spent at
+Diodati, when the whole party would sit up into the small hours of the
+morning, discussing all possible and impossible things in earth and
+heaven. In temperament Shelley and Byron were indeed radically opposed to
+each other, but the intellectual intercourse of two men, alike condemned
+to much isolation from their kind by their gifts, their dispositions, and
+their misfortunes, could not but be a source of enjoyment to each. Despite
+his deep grain of sarcastic egotism, Byron did justice to Shelley&#8217;s
+sincerity, simplicity, and purity of nature, and appreciated at their just
+value his mental powers and literary accomplishments. On the other hand,
+Shelley&#8217;s admiration of Byron&#8217;s genius was simply unbounded, while he
+apprehended the mixture of gold and clay in Byron&#8217;s disposition with
+singular acuteness. His was the &#8220;pure mind that penetrateth heaven and
+hell.&#8221; But at Geneva the two men were only finding each other out, and, to
+Shelley at least, any pain arising from difference of feeling or opinion
+was outweighed by the intense pleasure and refreshment of intellectual
+comradeship.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally fond of society, and indeed requiring its stimulus to elicit her
+best powers, Mary yet took a passive rather than an active share in these
+<i>symposia</i>. Looking back on them many years<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> afterwards she wrote: &#8220;Since
+incapacity and timidity always prevented my mingling in the nightly
+conversations of Diodati, they were, as it were, entirely <i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i>
+between my Shelley and Alb&egrave;.&#8221;<a name='fna_19' id='fna_19' href='#f_19'><small>[19]</small></a> But she was a keen, eager listener.
+Nothing escaped her observation, and none of this time was ever
+obliterated from her memory.</p>
+
+<p>To the intellectual ferment, so to speak, of the Diodati evenings, working
+with the new experiences and thoughts of the past two years, is due the
+conception of the story by which, as a writer, she is best remembered, the
+ghastly but powerful allegorical romance of <i>Frankenstein</i>. In her
+introduction to a late edition of this work (part of which has already
+been quoted here) Mary Shelley has herself told the history of its origin.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>In the summer of 1816 we visited Switzerland, and became the
+neighbours of Lord Byron. At first we spent our pleasant hours on the
+lake, or wandering on its shores, and Lord Byron, who was writing the
+third canto of <i>Childe Harold</i>, was the only one among us who put his
+thoughts upon paper. These, as he brought them successively to us,
+clothed in all the light and harmony of poetry, seemed to stamp as
+divine the glories of heaven and earth, whose influences we partook
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>But it proved a wet, ungenial summer, and incessant rain often
+confined us for days to the house. Some volumes of ghost stories,
+translated from the German into French, fell into our hands. There was
+the history of the Inconstant Lover, who, when he thought to clasp the
+bride to whom he had pledged his vows, found himself in the arms of
+the pale ghost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> of her whom he had deserted. There was the tale of the
+sinful founder of his race, whose miserable doom it was to bestow the
+kiss of death on all the younger sons of his fated house, just when
+they reached the age of promise. His gigantic shadowy form, clothed,
+like the ghost in Hamlet, in complete armour, but with the beaver up,
+was seen at midnight, by the moon&#8217;s fitful beams, to advance slowly
+along the gloomy avenue. The shape was lost beneath the shadow of the
+castle walls; but soon a gate swung back, a step was heard, the door
+of the chamber opened, and he advanced to the couch of the blooming
+youths, cradled in healthy sleep. Eternal sorrow sat upon his face as
+he bent down and kissed the forehead of the boys, who from that hour
+withered like flowers snapt upon the stalk. I have not seen these
+stories since then, but their incidents are as fresh in my mind as if
+I had read them yesterday. &#8220;We will each write a ghost story,&#8221; said
+Byron; and his proposition was acceded to. There were four of us. The
+noble author began a tale, a fragment of which he printed at the end
+of his poem of Mazeppa. Shelley, more apt to embody ideas and
+sentiments in the radiance of brilliant imagery, and in the music of
+the most melodious verse that adorns our language, than to invent the
+machinery of a story, commenced one founded on the experiences of his
+early life. Poor Polidori had some terrible idea about a skull-headed
+lady, who was so punished for peeping through a keyhole&mdash;what to see I
+forget&mdash;something very shocking and wrong of course; but when she was
+reduced to a worse condition than the renowned Tom of Coventry he did
+not know what to do with her, and he was obliged to despatch her to
+the tomb of the Capulets, the only place for which she was fitted. The
+illustrious poets also, annoyed by the platitude of prose, speedily
+relinquished their ungrateful task. I busied myself to <i>think of a
+story</i>,&mdash;a story to rival those which had excited us to this task. One
+that would speak to the mysterious fears of our nature, and awaken
+thrilling horror&mdash;one to make the reader dread to look round, to
+curdle the blood and quicken the beatings of the heart. If I did not
+accomplish these things my ghost story would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> unworthy of its name.
+I thought and wondered&mdash;vainly. I felt that blank incapability of
+invention which is the greatest misery of authorship, when dull
+Nothing replies to our anxious invocations. &#8220;<i>Have you thought of a
+story?</i>&#8221; I was asked each morning, and each morning I was forced to
+reply with a mortifying negative.</p>
+
+<p>Everything must have a beginning, to speak in Sanchean phrase: and
+that beginning must be linked to something that went before. The
+Hindoos give the world an elephant to support it, but they make the
+elephant stand upon a tortoise. Invention, it must be humbly admitted,
+does not consist in creating out of void, but out of chaos; the
+materials must, in the first place, be afforded: it can give form to
+dark shapeless substances, but cannot bring into being the substance
+itself. In all matters of discovery and invention, even of those that
+appertain to the imagination, we are continually reminded of the story
+of Columbus and his egg. Invention consists in the capacity of seizing
+on the capabilities of a subject, and in the power of moulding and
+fashioning ideas suggested to it.</p>
+
+<p>Many and long were the conversations between Lord Byron and Shelley,
+to which I was a devout but nearly silent listener. During one of
+these various philosophical doctrines were discussed, and, among
+others, the nature of the principle of life, and whether there was any
+probability of its ever being discovered and communicated. They talked
+of the experiments of Dr. Darwin (I speak not of what the doctor
+really did, or said that he did, but, as more to my purpose, of what
+was then spoken of as having been done by him), who preserved a piece
+of vermicelli in a glass case till by some extraordinary means it
+began to move with voluntary motion. Not thus, after all, would life
+be given. Perhaps a corpse would be reanimated; galvanism had given
+token of such things; perhaps the component parts of a creature might
+be manufactured, brought together, and endued with vital warmth.</p>
+
+<p>Night waned upon this talk, and even the witching hour had gone by,
+before we retired to rest. When I placed my head upon my pillow I did
+not sleep, nor could I be said to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> think. My imagination, unbidden,
+possessed and guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in
+my mind with a vividness far beyond the usual bounds of reverie. I
+saw&mdash;with shut eyes, but acute mental vision,&mdash;I saw the pale student
+of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together&mdash;I
+saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the
+working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an
+uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely
+frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the
+stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world. His success would
+terrify the artist; he would rush away from his odious handiwork,
+horrorstricken. He would hope that, left to itself, the slight spark
+which he had communicated would fade; that this thing, which had
+received such imperfect animation, would subside into dead matter; and
+he might sleep in the belief that the silence of the grave would
+quench for ever the transient existence of the hideous corpse which he
+had looked upon as the cradle of life. He sleeps; but he is awakened;
+he opens his eyes; behold the horrid thing stands at his bedside,
+opening his curtains, and looking on him with yellow, watery, but
+speculative eyes.</p>
+
+<p>I opened mine in terror. The idea so possessed my mind that a thrill
+of fear ran through me, and I wished to exchange the ghastly image of
+my fancy for the realities around. I see them still; the very room,
+the dark <i>parquet</i>, the closed shutters, with the moonlight struggling
+through, and the sense I had that the glassy lake and white high Alps
+were beyond. I could not so easily get rid of my hideous phantom;
+still it haunted me. I must try to think of something else. I recurred
+to my ghost story&mdash;my tiresome unlucky ghost story. O! if I could only
+contrive one which would frighten my reader as I myself had been
+frightened that night!</p>
+
+<p>Swift as light and as cheering was the idea that broke in upon me. &#8220;I
+have found it! What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only
+describe the spectre which had haunted my midnight pillow.&#8221; On the
+morrow I announced that I had <i>thought of a story</i>. I began that day
+with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> words, <i>It was on a dreary night of November</i>, making only a
+transcript of the grim terrors of my waking dream.</p>
+
+<p>At first I thought of but a few pages&mdash;of a short tale; but Shelley
+urged me to develop the idea at greater length. I certainly did not
+owe the suggestion of one incident, nor scarcely of one train of
+feeling, to my husband, and yet, but for his incitement, it would
+never have taken the form in which it was presented to the world. From
+this declaration I must except the preface. As far as I can recollect,
+it was entirely written by him.</p></div>
+
+<p>Every one now knows the story of the &#8220;Modern Prometheus,&#8221;&mdash;the student
+who, having devoted himself to the search for the principle of life,
+discovers it, manufactures an imitation of a human being, endows it with
+vitality, and having thus encroached on divine prerogative, finds himself
+the slave of his own creature, for he has set in motion a force beyond his
+power to control or annihilate. Aghast at the actual and possible
+consequences of his own achievement, he recoils from carrying it out to
+its ultimate end, and stops short of doing what is necessary to render
+this force independent. The being has, indeed, the perception and desire
+of goodness; but is, by the circumstances of its abnormal existence,
+delivered over to evil, and Frankenstein, and all whom he loves, fall
+victims to its vindictive malice. Surely no girl, before or since, has
+imagined, and carried out to its pitiless conclusion so grim an idea.</p>
+
+<p>Mary began her rough sketch of this story<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> during the absence of Shelley
+and Byron on a voyage round the lake of Geneva; the memorable excursion
+during which Byron wrote the <i>Prisoner of Chillon</i> and great part of the
+third canto of <i>Childe Harold</i>, and Shelley conceived the idea of that
+&#8220;Hymn to Intellectual Beauty,&#8221; which may be called his confession of
+faith. When they returned they found Mary hard at work on the fantastic
+speculation which possessed her mind and exerted over it a fascination and
+a power of excitement beyond that of the sublime external nature which
+inspired the two poets.</p>
+
+<p>When, in July, she set off with Shelley and Clare on a short tour to the
+Valley of Chamounix, she took her MS. with her. They visited the Mer de
+Glace, and the source of the Arveiron. The magnificent scenery which
+inspired Shelley with his poem on &#8220;Mont Blanc,&#8221; and is described by Mary
+in the extracts from her journal which follow, served her as a fitting
+background for the most preternatural portions of her romance.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Tuesday, July 23</i> (Chamounix).&mdash;In the morning, after breakfast, we
+mount our mules to see the source of the Arveiron. When we had gone
+about three parts of the way, we descended and continued our route on
+foot, over loose stones, many of which were an enormous size. We came
+to the source, which lies (like a stage) surrounded on the three sides
+by mountains and glaciers. We sat on a rock, which formed the fourth,
+gazing on the scene before us. An immense glacier was on our left,
+which continually rolled stones to its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> foot. It is very dangerous to
+be directly under this. Our guide told us a story of two Hollanders
+who went, without any guide, into a cavern of the glacier, and fired a
+pistol there, which drew down a large piece on them. We see several
+avalanches, some very small, others of great magnitude, which roared
+and smoked, overwhelming everything as it passed along, and
+precipitating great pieces of ice into the valley below. This glacier
+is increasing every day a foot, closing up the valley. We drink some
+water of the Arveiron and return. After dinner think it will rain, and
+Shelley goes alone to the glacier of Boison. I stay at home. Read
+several tales of Voltaire. In the evening I copy Shelley&#8217;s letter to
+Peacock.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, July 24.</i>&mdash;To-day is rainy; therefore we cannot go to Col
+de Balme. About 10 the weather appears clearing up. Shelley and I
+begin our journey to Montanvert. Nothing can be more desolate than the
+ascent of this mountain; the trees in many places having been torn
+away by avalanches, and some half leaning over others, intermingled
+with stones, present the appearance of vast and dreadful desolation.
+It began to rain almost as soon as we left our inn. When we had
+mounted considerably we turned to look on the scene. A dense white
+mist covered the vale, and tops of scattered pines peeping above were
+the only objects that presented themselves. The rain continued in
+torrents. We were wetted to the skin; so that, when we had ascended
+halfway, we resolved to turn back. As we descended, Shelley went
+before, and, tripping up, fell upon his knee. This added to the
+weakness occasioned by a blow on his ascent; he fainted, and was for
+some minutes incapacitated from continuing his route.</p>
+
+<p>We arrived wet to the skin. I read <i>Nouvelles Nouvelles</i>, and write my
+story. Shelley writes part of letter.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, July 27.</i>&mdash;It is a most beautiful day, without a cloud. We
+set off at 12. The day is hot, yet there is a fine breeze. We pass by
+the Great Waterfall, which presents an aspect of singular beauty. The
+wind carries it away from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> rock, and on towards the north, and the
+fine spray into which it is entirely dissolved passes before the
+mountain like a mist.</p>
+
+<p>The other cascade has very little water, and is consequently not so
+beautiful as before. The evening of the day is calm and beautiful.
+Evening is the only time I enjoy travelling. The horses went fast, and
+the plain opened before us. We saw Jura and the Lake like old friends.
+I longed to see my pretty babe. At 9, after much inquiring and
+stupidity, we find the road, and alight at Diodati. We converse with
+Lord Byron till 12, and then go down to Chapuis, kiss our babe, and go
+to bed.</p></div>
+
+<p>Circumstances had modified Shelley&#8217;s previous intention of remaining
+permanently abroad, and the end of August found him moving homeward.</p>
+
+<p>The following extracts from Mary&#8217;s diary give a sketch of their life
+during the few weeks preceding their return to England.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Sunday, July 28</i> (Montal&egrave;gre).&mdash;I read Voltaire&#8217;s <i>Romans</i>. Shelley
+reads Lucretius, and talks with Clare. After dinner he goes out in the
+boat with Lord Byron, and we all go up to Diodati in the evening. This
+is the second anniversary since Shelley&#8217;s and my union.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, July 29.</i>&mdash;Write; read Voltaire and Quintus Curtius. A rainy
+day, with thunder and lightning. Shelley finishes Lucretius, and reads
+Pliny&#8217;s <i>Letters</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, July 30.</i>&mdash;Read Quintus Curtius. Shelley read Pliny&#8217;s
+<i>Letters</i>. After dinner we go up to Diodati, and stay the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, August 1.</i>&mdash;Make a balloon for Shelley, after which he goes
+up to Diodati, to dine and spend the evening. Read twelve pages of
+Curtius. Write, and read the <i>Reveries of Rousseau</i>. Shelley reads
+Pliny&#8217;s <i>Letters</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, August 2.</i>&mdash;I go to the town with Shelley, to buy a telescope
+for his birthday present. In the evening Lord Byron and he go out in
+the boat, and, after their return,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> Shelley and Clare go up to
+Diodati; I do not, for Lord Byron did not seem to wish it. Shelley
+returns with a letter from Longdill, which requires his return to
+England. This puts us in bad spirits. I read <i>R&ecirc;veries</i> and <i>Ad&egrave;le et
+Th&eacute;odore de Madame de Genlis</i>, and Shelley reads Pliny&#8217;s <i>Letters</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, August 3.</i>&mdash;Finish the first volume of <i>Ad&egrave;le</i>, and write.
+After dinner write to Fanny, and go up to Diodati, where I read the
+<i>Life of Madame du Deffand</i>. We come down early and talk of our plans.
+Shelley reads Pliny&#8217;s <i>Letters</i>, and writes letters.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, August 4.</i>&mdash;Shelley&#8217;s birthday. Write; read <i>Tableau de
+famille</i>. Go out with Shelley in the boat, and read to him the fourth
+book of Virgil. After dinner we go up to Diodati, but return soon. I
+read Curtius with Shelley, and finish the first volume, after which we
+go out in the boat to set up the balloon, but there is too much wind;
+we set it up from the land, but it takes fire as soon as it is up. I
+finish the <i>R&ecirc;veries of Rousseau</i>. Shelley reads and finishes Pliny&#8217;s
+<i>Letters</i>, and begins the <i>Panegyric of Trajan</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, August 7.</i>&mdash;Write, and read ten pages of Curtius. Lord
+Byron and Shelley go out in the boat. I translate in the evening, and
+afterwards go up to Diodati. Shelley reads Tacitus.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, August 9.</i>&mdash;Write and translate; finish <i>Ad&egrave;le</i>, and read a
+little Curtius. Shelley goes out in the boat with Lord Byron in the
+morning and in the evening, and reads Tacitus. About 3 o&#8217;clock we go
+up to Diodati. We receive a long letter from Fanny.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Fanny to Mary.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">London</span>, <i>29th July 1816</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mary</span>&mdash;I have just received yours, which gave me great
+pleasure, though not quite so satisfactory a one as I could have
+wished. I plead guilty to the charge of having written in some degree
+in an ill humour; but if you knew how I am harassed by a variety of
+trying circumstances, I am sure you would feel for me. Besides other
+plagues, I was oppressed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> with the most violent cold in my head when I
+last wrote you that I ever had in my life. I will now, however,
+endeavour to give as much information from England as I am capable of
+giving, mixed up with as little spleen as possible. I have received
+Jane&#8217;s letter, which was a very dear and a very sweet one, and I
+should have answered it but for the dreadful state of mind I generally
+labour under, and which I in vain endeavour to get rid of. From your
+and Jane&#8217;s description of the weather in Switzerland, it has produced
+more mischief abroad than here. Our rain has been as constant as
+yours, for it rains every day, but it has not been accompanied by
+violent storms. All accounts from the country say that the corn has
+not yet suffered, but that it is yet perfectly green; but I fear that
+the sun will not come this year to ripen it. As yet we have had fires
+almost constantly, and have just got a few strawberries. You ask for
+particulars of the state of England. I do not understand the causes
+for the distress which I see, and hear dreadful accounts of, every
+day; but I know that they really exist. Papa, I believe, does not
+think much, or does not inquire, on these subjects, for I never can
+get him to give me any information. From Mr. Booth I got the clearest
+account, which has been confirmed by others since. He says that it is
+the &#8220;Peace&#8221; that has brought all this calamity upon us; that during
+the war the whole Continent were employed in fighting and defending
+their country from the incursions of foreign armies; that England
+alone was free to manufacture in peace; that our manufactories, in
+consequence, employed several millions, and at higher wages, than were
+wanted for our own consumption. Now peace is come, foreign ports are
+shut, and millions of our fellow-creatures left to starve. He also
+says that we have no need to manufacture for ourselves&mdash;that we have
+enough of the various articles of our manufacture to last for seven
+years&mdash;and that the going on is only increasing the evil. They say
+that in the counties of Staffordshire and Shropshire there are 26,000
+men out of employment, and without the means of getting any. A few
+weeks since there were several parties of colliers, who came as far as
+St. Albans<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> and Oxford, dragging coals in immense waggons, without
+horses, to the Prince Regent at Carlton House; one of these waggons
+was said to be conducted by a hundred colliers. The Ministers,
+however, thought proper, when these men had got to the distance from
+London of St. Albans, to send Magistrates to them, who paid them
+handsomely for their coals, and gave them money besides, telling them
+that coming to London would only create disturbance and riot, without
+relieving their misery; they therefore turned back, and the coals were
+given away to the poor people of the neighbourhood where they were
+met. This may give you some idea of the misery suffered. At Glasgow,
+the state of wretchedness is worse than anywhere else. Houses that
+formerly employed two or three hundred men now only employ three or
+four individuals. There have been riots of a very serious nature in
+the inland counties, arising from the same causes. This, joined to
+this melancholy season, has given us all very serious alarm, and
+helped to make me write so dismally. They talk of a change of
+Ministers; but this can effect no good; it is a change of the whole
+system of things that is wanted. Mr. Owen, however, tells us to cheer
+up, for that in two years we shall feel the good effect of his plans;
+he is quite certain that they will succeed. I have no doubt that he
+will do a great deal of good; but how he can expect to make the rich
+give up their possessions, and live in a state of equality, is too
+romantic to be believed. I wish I could send you his Address to the
+People of New Lanark, on the 1st of January 1816, on the opening of
+the Institution for the Formation of Character. He dedicates it &#8220;To
+those who have no private ends to accomplish, who are honestly in
+search of truth for the purpose of ameliorating the condition of
+society, and who have the firmness to follow the truth, wherever it
+may lead, without being turned aside from the pursuit by the
+<i>prepossessions or prejudices of any part of mankind</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This dedication will give you some idea of what sort of an Address it
+is. This Address was delivered on a Sunday evening, in a place set
+apart for the purposes of religion, and brought hundreds of persons
+from the regular clergymen to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> hear his profane Address,&mdash;against all
+religions, governments, and all sorts of aristocracy,&mdash;which, he says,
+was received with the greatest attention and highly approved. The
+outline of his plan is this: &#8220;That no human being shall work more than
+two or three hours every day; that they shall be all equal; that no
+one shall dress but after the plainest and simplest manner; that they
+be allowed to follow any religion, as they please; and that their
+[studies] shall be Mechanics and Chemistry.&#8221; I hate and am sick at
+heart at the misery I see my fellow-beings suffering, but I own I
+should not like to live to see the extinction of all genius, talent,
+and elevated generous feeling in Great Britain, which I conceive to be
+the natural consequence of Mr. Owen&#8217;s plan. I am not either wise
+enough, philosophical enough, nor historian enough, to say what will
+make man plain and simple in manners and mode of life, and at the same
+time a poet, a painter, and a philosopher; but this I know, that I had
+rather live with the Genevese, as you and Jane describe, than live in
+London, with the most brilliant beings that exist, in its present
+state of vice and misery. So much for Mr. Owen, who is, indeed, a very
+great and good man. He told me the other day that he wished our Mother
+were living, as he had never before met with a person who thought so
+exactly as he did, or who would have so warmly and zealously entered
+into his plans. Indeed, there is nothing very promising in a return to
+England at least for some time to come, for it is better to witness
+misery in a foreign country than one&#8217;s own, unless you have the means
+of relieving it. I wish I could send you the books you ask for. I
+should have sent them, if Longdill had not said he was not
+sending&mdash;that he expected Shelley in England. I shall send again
+immediately, and will then send you <i>Christabel</i> and the &#8220;Poet&#8217;s&#8221;
+<i>Poems</i>. Were I not a dependent being in every sense of the word, but
+most particularly in money, I would send you other things, which
+perhaps you would be glad of. I am much more interested in Lord Byron
+since I have read all his poems. When you left England I had only read
+<i>Childe Harold</i> and his smaller poems. The pleasure he has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> excited in
+me, and gratitude I owe him for having cheered several gloomy hours,
+makes me wish for a more finished portrait, both of his <i>mind</i> and
+<i>countenance</i>. From <i>Childe Harold</i> I gained a very ill impression of
+him, because I conceived it was <i>himself</i>,&mdash;notwithstanding the pains
+he took to tell us it was an imaginary being. The <i>Giaour</i>, <i>Lara</i>,
+and the <i>Corsair</i> make me justly style him a poet. Do in your next
+oblige me by telling me the minutest particulars of him, for it is
+from the <i>small things</i> that you learn most of character. Is his face
+as fine as in your portrait of him, or is it more like the other
+portrait of him? Tell me also if he has a pleasing voice, for that has
+a great charm with me. Does he come into your house in a careless,
+friendly, dropping-in manner? I wish to know, though not from idle
+curiosity, whether he was capable of acting in the manner that the
+London scandal-mongers say he did? You must by this time know if he is
+a profligate in principle&mdash;a man who, like Curran, gives himself
+unbounded liberty in all sorts of profligacy. I cannot think, from his
+writings, that he can be such a <i>detestable being</i>. Do answer me these
+questions, for where I love the poet I should like to respect the man.
+Shelley&#8217;s boat excursion with him must have been very delightful. I
+think Lord Byron never writes so well as when he writes descriptions
+of water scenes; for instance, the beginning of the <i>Giaour</i>. There is
+a fine expressive line in <i>Childe Harold</i>: &#8220;Blow, swiftly blow, thou
+keen compelling gale,&#8221; etc. There could have been no difference of
+sentiment in this divine excursion; they were both poets, equally
+alive to the charms of nature and the eloquent writing of Rousseau. I
+long very much to read the poem the &#8220;Poet&#8221; has written on the spot
+where Julie was drowned. When will they come to England? Say that you
+have a friend who has few pleasures, and is very impatient to read the
+poems written at Geneva. If they are not to be published, may I see
+them in manuscript? I am angry with Shelley for not writing himself.
+It is impossible to tell the good that <span class="smcaplc">POETS</span> do their
+fellow-creatures, at least those that can feel. Whilst I read I am a
+poet. I am inspired<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> with good feelings&mdash;feelings that create perhaps
+a more permanent good in me than all the everyday preachments in the
+world; it counteracts the dross which one gives on the everyday
+concerns of life, and tells us there is something yet in the world to
+aspire to&mdash;something by which succeeding ages may be made happy and
+perhaps better. If Shelley cannot accomplish any other good, he can
+this divine one. Laugh at me, but do not be angry with me, for taking
+up your time with my nonsense. I have sent again to Longdill, and he
+has returned the same answer as before. I can [not], therefore, send
+you <i>Christabel</i>. Lamb says it ought never to have been published;
+that no one understands it; and <i>Kubla Khan</i> (which is the poem he
+made in his sleep) is nonsense. Coleridge is living at Highgate; he is
+living with an apothecary, to whom he pays &pound;5 a week for board,
+lodging, and medical advice. The apothecary is to take care that he
+does not take either opium or spirituous liquors. Coleridge, however,
+was tempted, and wrote to a chemist he knew in London to send a bottle
+of laudanum to Mr. Murray&#8217;s in Albemarle Street, to be enclosed in a
+parcel of books to him; his landlord, however, felt the parcel
+outside, and discovered the fatal bottle. Mr. Morgan told me the other
+day that Coleridge improved in health under the care of the
+apothecary, and was writing fast a continuation of <i>Christabel</i>.</p>
+
+<p>You ask me if Mr. Booth mentioned Isabel&#8217;s having received a letter
+from you. He never mentioned your name to me, nor I to him; but he
+told Mamma that you had written a letter to her from Calais. He is
+gone back, and promises to bring Isabel next year. He has given us a
+volume of his <i>poetry</i>&mdash;<i>true, genuine poetry</i>&mdash;not such as
+Coleridge&#8217;s or Wordsworth&#8217;s, but Miss Seward&#8217;s and Dr. Darwin&#8217;s&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">Dying swains to sighing Delias.</p>
+
+<p>You ask about old friends; we have none, and see none. Poor Marshal is
+in a bad way; we see very little of him. Mrs. Kenny is going
+immediately to live near Orleans, which is better for her than living
+in London, afraid of her creditors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> The Lambs have been spending a
+month in the neighbourhood of Clifton and Bristol; they were highly
+delighted with Clifton. Sheridan is dead. Papa was very much grieved
+at his death. William and he went to his funeral. He was buried in the
+Poets&#8217; Corner of Westminster Abbey, attended by all the high people.
+Papa has visited his grave many times since. I am too young to
+remember his speeches in Parliament. I never admired his style of
+play-writing. I cannot, therefore, sympathise in the elegant tributes
+to his memory which have been paid by all parties. Those things which
+I have heard from all parties of his drunkenness I cannot admire. We
+have had one great pleasure since your departure, in viewing a fine
+collection of the Italian masters at the British Institution. Two of
+the Cartoons are there. Paul preaching at Athens is the finest picture
+I ever beheld.... I am going again to see this Exhibition next week,
+before it closes, when I shall be better able to tell you which I most
+admire of Raphael, Titian, Leonardo da Vinci, Domenichino, Claude, S.
+Rosa, Poussin, Murillo, etc., and all of which cannot be too much
+examined. I only wish I could have gone many times. Charles&#8217;s letter
+has not yet arrived. Do give me every account of him when you next
+hear from him. I think it is of great consequence the mode of life he
+now pursues, as it will most likely decide his future good or ill
+doing. You ask what I mean by &#8220;plans with Mr. Blood?&#8221; I meant a
+residence in Ireland. However, I will not plague you with them till I
+understand them myself. My Aunt Everina will be in London next week,
+when my future fate will be decided. I shall then give you a full and
+clear account of what my unhappy life is to be spent in, etc. I left
+it to the end of my letter to call your attention most seriously to
+what I said in my last letter respecting Papa&#8217;s affairs. They have now
+a much more serious and threatening aspect than when I last wrote to
+you. You perhaps think that Papa has gained a large sum by his novel
+engagement, which is not the case. He could make no other engagement
+with Constable than that they should share the profits equally between
+them, which, if the novel is successful, is an <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>advantageous bargain.
+Papa, however, prevailed upon him to advance &pound;200, to be deducted
+hereafter out of the part he is to receive; and if two volumes of the
+novel are not forthcoming on the 1st of January 1817, Constable has a
+promissory note to come upon papa for the &pound;200. This &pound;200 I told you
+was appropriated to Davidson and Hamilton, who had lent him &pound;200 on
+his <i>Caleb Williams</i> last year; so that you perceive he has as yet
+gained nothing on his novel, and all depends upon his future
+exertions. He has been very unwell and very uneasy in his mind for the
+last week, unable to write; and it was not till this day I discovered
+the cause, which has given me great uneasiness. You seem to have
+forgotten Kingdon&#8217;s &pound;300 to be paid at the end of June. He has had a
+great deal of plague and uneasiness about it, and has at last been
+obliged to give Kingdon his promissory note for &pound;300, payable on
+demand, so that every hour is not safe. Kingdon is no friend, and the
+money Government money, and it cannot be expected he will show Papa
+any mercy. I dread the effect on his health. He cannot sleep at night,
+and is indeed very unwell. This he concealed from Mamma and myself
+until this day. Taylor of Norwich has also come upon him again; he
+says, owing to the distress of the country, he must have the money for
+his children; but I do not fear him like Kingdon. Shelley said in his
+letter, some weeks ago, that the &pound;300 should come the end of June.
+Papa, therefore, acted upon that promise. From your last letter I
+perceive you think I colour my statements. I assure you I am most
+anxious, when I mention these unfortunate affairs, to speak the truth,
+and nothing but the truth, as it is. I think it my duty to tell you
+the real state of the case, for I know you deceive yourself about
+things. If Papa could go on with his novel in good spirits, I think it
+would perhaps be his very best. He said the other day that he was
+writing upon a subject no one had ever written upon before, and that
+it would require great exertion to make it what he wished. Give my
+love to Jane; thank her for her letter. I will write to her next week,
+though I consider this long tiresome one as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> addressed to you all.
+Give my love also to Shelley; tell him, if he goes any more
+excursions, nothing will give me more pleasure than a description of
+them. Tell him I like your [<span class="spacer">&nbsp;</span>]<a name='fna_20' id='fna_20' href='#f_20'><small>[20]</small></a> tour best, though I should like
+to visit <i>Venice</i> and <i>Naples</i>. Kiss dear William for me; I sometimes
+consider him as my child, and look forward to the time of my old age
+and his manhood. Do you dip him in the lake? I am much afraid you will
+find this letter much too long; if it affords you any pleasure, oblige
+me by a long one in return, but write small, for Mamma complains of
+the postage of a double letter. I pay the full postage of all the
+letters I send, and you know I have not a <i>sous</i> of my own. Mamma is
+much better, though not without rheumatism. William is better than he
+ever was in his life. I am not well; my mind always keeps my body in a
+fever; but never mind me. Do entreat J. to attend to her eyes. Adieu,
+my dear Sister. Let me entreat you to consider seriously all that I
+have said concerning your Father.&mdash;Yours, very affectionately,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Fanny</span>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><i>Journal, Saturday, August 10.</i>&mdash;Write to Fanny. Shelley writes to
+Charles. We then go to town to buy books and a watch for Fanny. Read
+Curtius after my return; translate. In the evening Shelley and Lord
+Byron go out in the boat. Translate, and when they return go up to
+Diodati. Shelley reads Tacitus. A writ of arrest comes from Polidori,
+for having &#8220;cass&eacute; ses lunettes et fait tomber son chapeau&#8221; of the
+apothecary who sells bad magnesia.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, August 12.</i>&mdash;Write my story and translate. Shelley goes to
+the town, and afterwards goes out in the boat with Lord Byron. After
+dinner I go out a little in the boat, and then Shelley goes up to
+Diodati. I translate in the evening, and read <i>Le Vieux de la
+Montagne</i>, and write. Shelley, in coming down, is attacked by a dog,
+which delays him; we send up for him, and Lord Byron comes down; in
+the meantime Shelley returns.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span><i>Wednesday, August 14.</i>&mdash;Read <i>Le Vieux de la Montagne</i>; translate.
+Shelley reads Tacitus, and goes out with Lord Byron before and after
+dinner. Lewis<a name='fna_21' id='fna_21' href='#f_21'><small>[21]</small></a> comes to Diodati. Shelley goes up there, and Clare
+goes up to copy. Remain at home, and read <i>Le Vieux de la Montagne</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, August 16.</i>&mdash;Write, and read a little of Curtius; translate;
+read <i>Walther</i> and some of <i>Rienzi</i>. Lord Byron goes with Lewis to
+Ferney. Shelley writes, and reads Tacitus.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, August 17.</i>&mdash;Write, and finish <i>Walther</i>. In the evening I
+go out in the boat with Shelley, and he afterwards goes up to Diodati.
+Began one of Madame de Genlis&#8217;s novels. Shelley finishes Tacitus.
+Polidori comes down. Little babe is not well.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, August 18.</i>&mdash;Talk with Shelley, and write; read Curtius.
+Shelley reads Plutarch in Greek. Lord Byron comes down, and stays here
+an hour. I read a novel in the evening. Shelley goes up to Diodati,
+and Monk Lewis.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, August 20.</i>&mdash;Read Curtius; write; read <i>Herman d&#8217;Unna</i>. Lord
+Byron comes down after dinner, and remains with us until dark. Shelley
+spends the rest of the evening at Diodati. He reads Plutarch.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, August 21.</i>&mdash;Shelley and I talk about my story. Finish
+<i>Herman d&#8217;Unna</i> and write. Shelley reads Milton. After dinner Lord
+Byron comes down, and Clare and Shelley go up to Diodati. Read
+<i>Rienzi</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, August 23.</i>&mdash;Shelley goes up to Diodati, and then in the boat
+with Lord Byron, who has heard bad news of Lady Byron, and is in bad
+spirits concerning it.... Letters arrive from Peacock and Charles.
+Shelley reads Milton.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, August 24.</i>&mdash;Write. Shelley goes to Geneva. Read. Lord
+Byron and Shelley sit on the wall before dinner. After I talk with
+Shelley, and then Lord Byron comes down and spends an hour here.
+Shelley and he go up together.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span><i>Monday, August 26.</i>&mdash;Hobhouse and Scroop Davis come to Diodati.
+Shelley spends the evening there, and reads <i>Germania</i>. Several books
+arrive, among others Coleridge&#8217;s <i>Christabel</i>, which Shelley reads
+aloud to me before going to bed.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, August 28.</i>&mdash;Packing. Shelley goes to town. Work. Polidori
+comes down, and afterwards Lord Byron. After dinner we go upon the
+water; pack; and Shelley goes up to Diodati. Shelley reads <i>Histoire
+de la R&eacute;volution par Rabault</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, August 29.</i>&mdash;We depart from Geneva at 9 in the morning.</p></div>
+
+<p>They travelled to Havre <i>vi&acirc;</i> Dijon, Auxerre, and Villeneuve; allowing
+only a few hours for visiting the palaces of Fontainebleau and Versailles,
+and the Cathedral of Rouen. From Havre they sailed to Portsmouth, where,
+for a short time, they separated. Shelley went to stay with Peacock, who
+was living at Great Marlow, and had been looking about there for a house
+to suit his friends. Mary and Clare proceeded to Bath, where they were to
+spend the next few months.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Tuesday, September 10.</i>&mdash;Arrive at Bath about 2. Dine, and
+spend the evening in looking for lodgings. Read Mrs. Robinson&#8217;s
+<i>Valcenga</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, September 11.</i>&mdash;Look for lodgings; take some, and settle
+ourselves. Read the first volume of <i>The Antiquary</i>, and work.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">September 1816-February 1817</span></p>
+
+<p>Trouble had, for some time past, been gathering in heavy clouds. Godwin&#8217;s
+affairs were in worse plight than ever, and the Shelleys, go where they
+might, were never suffered to forget them. Fanny constituted herself his
+special pleader, and made it evident that she found it hard to believe
+Shelley could not, if he chose, get more money than he did for Mary&#8217;s
+father. Her long letters, bearing witness in every line to her great
+natural intelligence and sensibility, excite the deepest pity for her, and
+not a little, it must be added, for those to whom they were addressed. The
+poor girl&#8217;s life was, indeed, a hard one, and of all her trials perhaps
+the most insurmountable was that inherited melancholy of the
+Wollstonecraft temperament which permitted her no illusions, no moments,
+even, of respite from care in unreasoning gaiety such as are incidental to
+most young and healthy natures. Nor, although she won every one&#8217;s respect
+and most people&#8217;s liking, had she the inborn gift of inspiring devotion or
+arousing enthusiasm. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> was one of those who give all and take nothing.
+The people she loved all cared for others more than they did for her, or
+cared only for themselves. Full of warmth and affection and ideal
+aspirations; sympathetically responsive to every poem, every work of art
+appealing to imagination, she was condemned by her temperament and the
+surroundings of her life to idealise nothing, and to look at all objects
+as they presented themselves to her, in the light of the very commonest
+day.</p>
+
+<p>Less pressing than Godwin, but still another disturbing cause, was Charles
+Clairmont, who was travelling abroad in search, partly of health, partly
+of occupation; had found the former, but not the latter, and, of course,
+looked to Shelley as the magician who was to realise all his plans for
+him. Of his discursive letters, which are immensely long, in a style of
+florid eloquence, only a few specimen extracts can find room here. One,
+received by Shelley and Mary at Geneva, openly confesses that, though it
+was a year since he had left England, he had abstained, as yet, from
+writing to Skinner Street, being as unsettled as ever, and having had
+nothing to speak of but his pleasures;&mdash;having in short been going on
+&#8220;just like a butterfly,&mdash;though still as a butterfly of the best
+intentions.&#8221; He proceeds to describe the country, his manner of living
+there, his health,&mdash;he details his symptoms, and sets forth at length the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>
+various projects he might entertain, and the marvellous cheapness of one
+and all of them, if only he could afford to have any projects at all. He
+enumerates items of expenditure connected with one of his schemes, and
+concludes thus&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>I lay this proposal before you, without knowing anything of your
+finances, which, I fear, cannot be in too flourishing a situation. You
+will, I trust, consider of the thing, and treat it as frankly as it
+has been offered. I know you too well not to know you would do for me
+all in your power. Have the goodness to write to me as instantly as
+possible.</p></div>
+
+<p>And Shelley did write,&mdash;so says the journal.</p>
+
+<p>Last not least, there was Clare. At what point of all this time did her
+secret become known to Shelley and Mary? No document as yet has seen the
+light which informs us of this. Perhaps some day it may. Unfortunately for
+biographers and for readers of biography, Mary&#8217;s journal is almost devoid
+of personal gossip, or indeed of personalities of any kind. Her diary is a
+record of outward facts, and, occasionally, of intellectual impressions;
+no intimate history and no one else&#8217;s affairs are confided to it. No
+change of tone is perceptible anywhere. All that can be asserted is that
+they knew nothing of it when they went to Geneva. In the absence of
+absolute proof to the contrary it is impossible to believe that they were
+not aware of it when they came back. Clare was an expecting mother. For
+four months they had all been in daily intercourse with Byron, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> never
+was or could be reticent, and who was not restrained either by delicacy or
+consideration for others from saying what he chose. But when and how the
+whole affair was divulged and what its effect was on Shelley and Mary
+remains a mystery. From this time, however, Clare resumed her place as a
+member of their household. It cannot have been a matter of satisfaction to
+Mary: domestic life was more congenial without Clare&#8217;s presence than with
+it, but now that there was a true reason for her taking shelter with them,
+Mary&#8217;s native nobility of heart was equal to the occasion, and she gave
+help, support, and confidence, ungrudgingly and without stint. Never in
+her journal, and only once in her letters does any expression of
+discontent appear. They settled down together in their lodgings at Bath,
+but on the 19th of September Mary set out to join Shelley at Marlow for a
+few days, leaving Clara in charge of little Willy and the Swiss nurse
+Elise. On the 25th both were back at Bath, where they resumed their quiet,
+regular way of life, resting and reading. But this apparent peace was not
+to be long unbroken. Letters from Fanny followed each other in quick
+succession, breathing nothing but painful, perpetual anxiety.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Fanny to Mary.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><i>26th September 1816.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mary</span>&mdash;I received your letter last Saturday, which rejoiced my
+heart. I cannot help envying your calm, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>contented disposition, and
+the calm philosophical habits of life which pursue you, or rather
+which you pursue everywhere. I allude to your description of the
+manner in which you pass your days at Bath, when most women would
+hardly have recovered from the fatigues of such a journey as you had
+been taking. I am delighted to hear such pleasing accounts of your
+William; I should like to see him, dear fellow; the change of air does
+him infinite good, no doubt. I am very glad you have got Jane a
+pianoforte; if anything can do her good and restore her to industry,
+it is music. I think I gave her all the music here; however, I will
+look again for what I can find. I am angry with Shelley for not giving
+me an account of his health. All that I saw of him gave me great
+uneasiness about him, and as I see him but seldom, I am much more
+alarmed perhaps than you, who are constantly with him. I hope that it
+is only the London air which does not agree with him, and that he is
+now much better; however, it would have been kind to have said so.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Everina and Mrs. Bishop left London two days ago. It pained me
+very much to find that they have entirely lost their little income
+from Primrose Street, which is very hard upon them at their age. Did
+Shelley tell you a singular story about Mrs. B. having received an
+annuity which will make up in part for her loss?</p>
+
+<p>Poor Papa is going on with his novel, though I am sure it is very
+fatiguing to him, though he will not allow it; he is not able to study
+as much as formerly without injuring himself; this, joined to the
+plagues of his affairs, which he fears will never be closed, make me
+very anxious for him. The name of his novel is <i>Mandeville, or a Tale
+of the Seventeenth Century</i>. I think, however, you had better not
+mention the name to any one, as he wishes it not to be announced at
+present. Tell Shelley, as soon as he knows certainly about Longdill,
+to write, that he may be eased on that score, for it is a great weight
+on his spirits at present. Mr. Owen is come to town to prepare for the
+meeting of Parliament. There never was so devoted a being as he is;
+and it certainly must end in his doing a great deal of good, though
+not the good he talks of.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>Have you heard from Charles? He has never given us a single line. I am
+afraid he is doing very ill, and has the conscience not to write a
+parcel of lies. Beg the favour of Shelley, to copy for me his poem on
+the scenes at the foot of Mont Blanc, and tell him or remind him of a
+letter which you said he had written on these scenes; you cannot think
+what a treasure they would be to me; remember you promised them to me
+when you returned to England. Have you heard from Lord Byron since he
+visited those sublime scenes? I have had great pleasure since I saw
+Shelley in going over a fine gallery of pictures of the Old Masters at
+Dulwich. There was a St. Sebastian by Guido, the finest picture I ever
+saw; there were also the finest specimens of Murillo, the great
+Spanish painter, to be found in England, and two very fine Titians.
+But the works of art are not to be compared to the works of nature,
+and I am never satisfied. It is only poets that are eternal
+benefactors of their fellow-creatures, and the real ones never fail of
+giving us the highest degree of pleasure we are capable of; they are,
+in my opinion, nature and art united, and as such never fading.</p>
+
+<p>Do write to me immediately, and tell me you have got a house, and
+answer those questions I asked you at the beginning of this letter.</p>
+
+<p>Give my love to Shelley, and kiss William for me. Your affectionate
+Sister,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Fanny</span>.</p></div>
+
+<p>When Shelley sold to his father the reversion of a part of his
+inheritance, he had promised to Godwin a sum of &pound;300, which he had hoped
+to save from the money thus obtained. Owing to certain conditions attached
+to the transaction by Sir Timothy Shelley, this proved to be impossible.
+The utmost Shelley could do, and that only by leaving himself almost
+without resources, was to send something over &pound;200; a bitter
+disappointment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> to Godwin, who had given a bill for the full amount.
+Shelley had perhaps been led by his hopes, and his desire to serve Godwin,
+to speak in too sanguine a tone as to his prospect of obtaining the money,
+and the letter announcing his failure came, Fanny wrote, &#8220;like a
+thunderclap.&#8221; In her disappointment she taxed Shelley with want of
+frankness, and Shelley and Mary both with an apparent wish to avoid the
+subject of Godwin&#8217;s affairs.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;You know,&#8221; she writes, &#8220;the peculiar temperature of Papa&#8217;s mind (if I
+may so express myself); you know he cannot write when pecuniary
+circumstances overwhelm him; you know that it is of the utmost
+consequence, for <i>his own</i> and the <i>world&#8217;s sake</i> that he should
+finish his novel; and is it not your and Shelley&#8217;s duty to consider
+these things, and to endeavour to prevent, as far as lies in your
+power, giving him unnecessary pain and anxiety?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>To the Shelleys, who had strained every nerve to obtain this money,
+unmindful of the insulting manner in which such assistance was demanded
+and received by Godwin, these appeals to their sense of duty must have
+been exasperating. Nor were matters mended by hearing of sundry scandalous
+reports abroad concerning themselves&mdash;reports sedulously gathered by Mrs.
+Godwin, and of which Fanny thought it her duty to inform them, so as to
+put them on their guard. They, on their part, were indignant, especially
+with Mrs. Godwin, who had evidently, they surmised, gone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> out of her way
+to collect this false information, and had helped rather than hindered its
+circulation; and they expressed themselves to this effect. Fanny stoutly
+defended her stepmother against these attacks.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Mamma and I are not great friends, but, always alive to her virtues, I
+am anxious to defend her from a charge so foreign to her character....
+I told Shelley these (scandalous reports), and I still think they
+originated with your servants and Harriet, whom I know has been very
+industrious in spreading false reports about you. I at the same time
+advised Shelley always to keep French servants, and he then seemed to
+think it a good plan. You are very careless, and are for ever leaving
+your letters about. English servants like nothing so much as scandal
+and gossip; but this you know as well as I, and this is the origin of
+the stories that are told. And this you choose to father on Mamma, who
+(whatever she chooses to say in a passion to me alone) is the woman
+the most incapable of such low conduct. I do not say that her
+inferences are always the most just or the most amiable, but they are
+always confined to myself and Papa. Depend upon it you are perfectly
+safe as long as you keep your French servant with you.... I have now
+to entreat you, Shelley, to tell Papa exactly what you can and what
+you cannot do, for he does not seem to know what you mean in your
+letter. I know that you are most anxious to do everything in your
+power to complete your engagement to him, and to do anything that will
+not ruin yourself to save him; but he is not convinced of this, and I
+think it essential to his peace that he should be convinced of this. I
+do not on any account wish you to give him false hopes. Forgive me if
+I have expressed myself unkindly. My heart is warm in your cause, and
+I am <i>anxious, most anxious</i>, that Papa should feel for you as I do,
+both for your own and his sake.... All that I have said about Mamma
+proceeds from the hatred I have of talking and petty scandal, which,
+though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> trifling in itself, often does superior persons much injury,
+though it cannot proceed from any but vulgar souls in the first instance.</p>
+
+<p>This letter was crossed by Shelley&#8217;s, enclosing more than
+&pound;200&mdash;insufficient, however, to meet the situation or to raise the heavy
+veil of gloom which had settled on Skinner Street. Fanny could bear it no
+longer. Despairing gloom from Godwin, whom she loved, and who in his gloom
+was no philosopher; sordid, nagging, angry gloom from &#8220;Mamma,&#8221; who,
+clearly enough, did not scruple to remind the poor girl that she had been
+a charge and a burden to the household (this may have been one of the
+things she only &#8220;chose to say in a passion, to Fanny alone&#8221;); her sisters
+gone, and neither of them in complete sympathy with her; no friends to
+cheer or divert her thoughts! A plan had been under consideration for her
+residing with her relatives in Ireland, and the last drop of bitterness
+was the refusal of her aunt, Everina Wollstonecraft, to have her. What was
+left for her? Much, if she could have believed it, and have nerved herself
+to patience. But she was broken down and blinded by the strain of over
+endurance. On the 9th of October she disappeared from home. Shelley and
+Mary in Bath suspected nothing of the impending crisis. The journal for
+that week is as follows&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Saturday, October 5</i> (Mary).&mdash;Read Clarendon and Curtius; walk with
+Shelley. Shelley reads Tasso.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span><i>Sunday, October 6</i> (Shelley).&mdash;On this day Mary put her head through
+the door and said, &#8220;Come and look; here&#8217;s a cat eating roses; she&#8217;ll
+turn into a woman; when beasts eat these roses they turn into men and women.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>(Mary).&mdash;Read Clarendon all day; finish the eleventh book. Shelley
+reads Tasso.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, October 7.</i>&mdash;Read Curtius and Clarendon; write. Shelley reads
+<i>Don Quixote</i> aloud in the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, October 8.</i>&mdash;Letter from Fanny (this letter has not been
+preserved). Drawing lesson. Walk out with Shelley to the South Parade;
+read Clarendon, and draw. In the evening work, and Shelley reads <i>Don
+Quixote</i>; afterwards read <i>Memoirs of the Princess of Bareith</i> aloud.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, October 9.</i>&mdash;Read Curtius; finish the <i>Memoirs</i>; draw. In
+the evening a very alarming letter comes from Fanny. Shelley goes
+immediately to Bristol; we sit up for him till 2 in the morning, when
+he returns, but brings no particular news.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, October 10.</i>&mdash;Shelley goes again to Bristol, and obtains
+more certain trace. Work and read. He returns at 11 o&#8217;clock.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, October 11.</i>&mdash;He sets off to Swansea. Work and read.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, October 12.</i>&mdash;He returns with the worst account. A
+miserable day. Two letters from Papa. Buy mourning, and work in the
+evening.</p></div>
+
+<p>From Bristol Fanny had written not only to the Shelleys, but to the
+Godwins, accounting for her disappearance, and adding, &#8220;I depart
+immediately to the spot from which I hope never to remove.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>During the ensuing night, at the Mackworth Arms Inn, Swansea, she traced
+the following words&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>I have long determined that the best thing I could do was to put an
+end to the existence of a being whose birth was unfortunate, and whose
+life has only been a series of pain to those persons who have hurt
+their health in endeavouring to promote her welfare. Perhaps to hear
+of my death may give you pain, but you will soon have the blessing of
+forgetting that such a creature ever existed as....</p>
+
+<p>This note and a laudanum bottle were beside her when, next morning, she
+was found lying dead.</p>
+
+<p>The persons for whose sake it was&mdash;so she had persuaded herself&mdash;that she
+committed this act were reduced to a wretched condition by the blow.
+Shelley&#8217;s health was shattered; Mary profoundly miserable; Clare, although
+by her own avowal feeling less affection for Fanny than might have been
+expected, was shocked by the dreadful manner of her death, and infected by
+the contagion of the general gloom. She was not far from her confinement,
+and had reasons enough of her own for any amount of depression.</p>
+
+<p>Godwin was deeply afflicted; to him Fanny was a great and material loss,
+and the last remaining link with a happy past. As usual, public comment
+was the thing of all others from which he shrank most, and in the midst of
+his first sorrow his chief anxiety was to hide or disguise the painful
+story from the world. In writing (for the first time) to Mary he says&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Do not expose us to those idle questions which, to a mind in anguish,
+is one of the severest of all trials. We are at this moment in doubt
+whether, during the first shock, we shall not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> say that she is gone to
+Ireland to her aunt, a thing that had been in contemplation. Do not
+take from us the power to exercise our own discretion. You shall hear
+again to-morrow.</p>
+
+<p>What I have most of all in horror is the public papers, and I thank
+you for your caution, as it may act on this.</p>
+
+<p>We have so conducted ourselves that not one person in our home has the
+smallest apprehension of the truth. Our feelings are less tumultuous
+than deep. God only knows what they may become.</p></div>
+
+<p>Charles Clairmont was not informed at all of Fanny&#8217;s death; a letter from
+him a year later contains a message to her. Mrs. Godwin busied herself
+with putting the blame on Shelley. Four years later she informed Mrs.
+Gisborne that the three girls had been simultaneously in love with
+Shelley, and that Fanny&#8217;s death was due to jealousy of Mary! This shows
+that the Shelleys&#8217; instinct did not much mislead them when they held
+Mary&#8217;s stepmother responsible for the authorship and diffusion of many of
+those slanders which for years were to affect their happiness and peace.
+Any reader of Fanny&#8217;s letters can judge how far Mrs. Godwin&#8217;s allegation
+is borne out by actual facts; and to any one knowing aught of women and
+women&#8217;s lives these letters afford clue enough to the situation and the
+story, and further explanation is superfluous. Fanny was fond of Shelley,
+fond enough even to forgive him for the trouble he had brought on their
+home, but her part was throughout that of a long-suffering sister, one,
+too, to whose lot it always fell to say all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> disagreeable things that
+had to be said&mdash;a truly ungrateful task. Her loyalty to the Godwins,
+though it could not entirely divide her from the Shelleys, could and did
+prevent any intimacy of friendship with them. Her enlightened, liberal
+mind, and her generous, loving heart had won Shelley&#8217;s recognition and his
+affection, and in a moment a veil was torn from his eyes, revealing to him
+unsuspected depths of suffering, sacrifice, and heroism&mdash;now it was too
+late. How much more they might have done for Fanny had they understood
+what she endured! There was he, Shelley, offering sympathy and help to the
+oppressed and the miserable all the world over, and here,&mdash;here under his
+very eyes, this tragic romance was acted out to the death.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">Her voice did quiver as we parted,<br />
+Yet knew I not that heart was broken<br />
+From which it came,&mdash;and I departed,<br />
+Heeding not the words then spoken&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Misery, ah! misery!</span><br />
+This world is all too wide for thee.</p>
+
+<p>If the echo of those lines reached Fanny in the world of shadows, it may
+have calmed the restless spirit with the knowledge that she had not lived
+for nothing after all.</p>
+
+<p>During the next two months another tragedy was silently advancing towards
+its final catastrophe. Shelley was anxious for intelligence of Harriet and
+her children; she had, however, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>disappeared, and he could discover no
+clue to her whereabouts. Mr. Peacock, who, during June, had been in
+communication with her on money matters, had now, apparently, lost sight
+of her. The worry of Godwin&#8217;s money-matters and the fearful shock of
+Fanny&#8217;s self-sought death, followed as it was by collapse of his own
+health and nerves, probably withdrew Shelley&#8217;s thoughts from the subject
+for a time. In November, however, he wrote to Hookham, thinking that he,
+to whom Harriet had once written to discover Shelley&#8217;s whereabouts, might
+now know or have the means of finding out where she was living. No answer
+came, however, to these inquiries for some weeks, during which Shelley,
+Mary, and Clare lived in their seclusion, reading Lucian and Horace,
+Shakespeare, Gibbon, and Locke; in occasional correspondence with Skinner
+Street, through Mrs. Godwin, who was now trying what she could do to
+obtain money loans (probably raised on Shelley&#8217;s prospects), requisite,
+not only to save Godwin from bankruptcy, but to repay Shelley a small
+fraction of what he had given and lent, and without which he was unable to
+pay his own way.</p>
+
+<p>The plan for settling at Marlow was still pending, and on the 5th of
+December Shelley went there again to stay with Mr. Peacock and his mother,
+and to look about for a residence to suit him. Mary during his absence was
+somewhat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> tormented by anxiety for his fragile health; fearful, too, lest
+in his impulsive way he should fall in love with the first pretty place he
+saw, and burden himself with some unsuitable house, in the idea of
+settling there &#8220;for ever,&#8221; Clare and all. To that last plan she probably
+foresaw the objections more clearly than Shelley did. But her cheery
+letters are girlish and playful.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><i>5th December 1816.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Sweet Elf</span>&mdash;I got up very late this morning, so that I could not attend
+Mr. West. I don&#8217;t know any more. Good-night.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">New Bond Street, Bath</span>,<br />
+<span style="padding-right: 1em;"><i>6th December 1816</i>.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Sweet Elf</span>&mdash;I was awakened this morning by my pretty babe, and was
+dressed time enough to take my lesson from Mr. West, and (thank God)
+finished that tedious ugly picture I have been so long about. I have
+also finished the fourth chapter of <i>Frankenstein</i>, which is a very
+long one, and I think you would like it. And where are you? and what
+are you doing? my blessed love. I hope and trust that, for my sake,
+you did not go outside this wretched day, while the wind howls and the
+clouds seem to threaten rain. And what did my love think of as he rode
+along&mdash;did he think about our home, our babe, and his poor Pecksie?
+But I am sure you did, and thought of them all with joy and hope. But
+in the choice of a residence, dear Shelley, pray be not too quick or
+attach yourself too much to one spot. Ah! were you indeed a winged
+Elf, and could soar over mountains and seas, and could pounce on the
+little spot. A house with a lawn, a river or lake, noble trees, and
+divine mountains, that should be our little mouse-hole to retire to.
+But never mind this; give me a garden, and <i>absentia</i> Claire, and I
+will thank my love for many favours. If you, my love, go to London,
+you will perhaps try to procure a good Livy, for I wish very much to
+read it. I must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> be more industrious, especially in learning Latin,
+which I neglected shamefully last summer at intervals, and those
+periods of not reading at all put me back very far.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Morning Chronicle</i>, as you will see, does not make much of the
+riots, which they say are entirely quelled, and you would be almost
+inclined to say, &#8220;Out of the mountain comes forth a mouse,&#8221; although,
+I daresay, poor Mrs. Platt does not think so.</p>
+
+<p>The blue eyes of your sweet Boy are staring at me while I write this;
+he is a dear child, and you love him tenderly, although I fancy that
+your affection will increase when he has a nursery to himself, and
+only comes to you just dressed and in good humour; besides when that
+comes to pass he will be a wise little man, for he improves in mind
+rapidly. Tell me, shall you be happy to have another little squaller?
+You will look grave on this, but I do not mean anything.</p>
+
+<p>Leigh Hunt has not written. I would advise a letter addressed to him
+at the <i>Examiner</i> Office, if there is no answer to-morrow. He may not
+be at the Vale of Health, for it is odd that he does not acknowledge
+the receipt of so large a sum. There have been no letters of any kind
+to-day.</p>
+
+<p>Now, my dear, when shall I see you? Do not be very long away; take
+care of yourself and take a house. I have a great fear that bad
+weather will set in. My airy Elf, how unlucky you are! I shall write
+to Mrs. Godwin to-morrow; but let me know what you hear from Hayward
+and papa, as I am greatly interested in those affairs. Adieu,
+sweetest; love me tenderly, and think of me with affection when
+anything pleases you greatly.&mdash;Your affectionate girl</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary</span>.</p>
+
+<p>I have not asked Clare, but I dare say she would send her love,
+although I dare say she would scold you well if you were here.
+Compliments and remembrances to Dame Peacock and Son, but do not let
+them see this.</p>
+
+<p>Sweet, adieu!</p>
+
+<p>Percy B. Shelley, Esq.,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Great Marlow, Bucks.</span></p></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>On 6th December the journal records&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Letter from Shelley; he has gone to visit Leigh Hunt.</p>
+
+<p>This was the beginning of a lifelong intimacy.</p>
+
+<p>On the 14th Shelley returned to Bath, and on the very next day a letter
+from Hookham informed him that on the 9th Harriet&#8217;s body had been taken
+out of the Serpentine. She had disappeared three weeks before that time
+from the house where she was living. An inquest had been held at which her
+name was given as Harriet Smith; little or no information about her was
+given to the jury, who returned a verdict of &#8220;Found drowned.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Life and its complications had proved too much for the poor silly woman,
+and she took the only means of escape she saw open to her. Her piteous
+story was sufficiently told by the fact that when she drowned herself she
+was not far from her confinement. But it would seem from subsequent
+evidence that harsh treatment on the part of her relatives was what
+finally drove her to despair. She had lived a fast life, but had been,
+nominally at any rate, under her father&#8217;s protection until a comparatively
+short time before her disappearance, when some act or occurrence caused
+her to be driven from his house. From that moment she sank lower and
+lower, until at last, deserted by one&mdash;said to be a groom&mdash;to whom she had
+looked for protection, she killed herself.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>It is asserted that she had had, all her life, an avowed proclivity to
+suicide. She had been fond, in young and happy days, of talking jocosely
+about it, as silly girls often do; discoursing of &#8220;some scheme of
+self-destruction as coolly as another lady would arrange a visit to an
+exhibition or a theatre.&#8221;<a name='fna_22' id='fna_22' href='#f_22'><small>[22]</small></a> But it is a wide dreary waste that lies
+between such an idea and the grim reality,&mdash;and poor Harriet had traversed
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley&#8217;s first thought on receiving the fatal news was of his children.
+His sensations were those of horror, not of remorse. He never spoke or
+thought of Harriet with harshness, rather with infinite pity, but he never
+regarded her save in the light of one who had wronged him and failed
+him,&mdash;whom he had left, indeed, but had forgiven, and had tried to save
+from the worst consequences of her own acts. Her dreadful death was a
+shock to him of which he said (to Byron) that he knew not how he had
+survived it; and he regarded her father and sister as guilty of her blood.
+But Fanny&#8217;s death caused him acuter anguish than Harriet&#8217;s did.</p>
+
+<p>As for Mary, she regarded the whole Westbrook family as the source of
+grief and shame to Shelley. Harriet she only knew for a frivolous,
+heartless, faithless girl, whom she had never had the faintest cause to
+respect, hardly even to pity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> Poor Harriet was indeed deserving of
+profound commiseration, and no one could have known and felt this more
+than Mary would have done, in later years. But she heard one side of the
+case only, and that one the side on which her own strongest feelings were
+engaged. She was only nineteen, with an exalted ideal of womanly devotion;
+and at nineteen we may sternly judge what later on we may condemn indeed,
+but with a depth of pity quite beyond the power of its object to fathom or
+comprehend.</p>
+
+<p>No comment whatever on the occurrence appears in her journal. She threw
+herself ardently into Shelley&#8217;s eagerness to get possession of his elder
+children; ready, for his sake, to love them as her own.</p>
+
+<p>It could not but occur to her that her own position was altered by this
+event, and that nothing now stood between her and her legal marriage to
+Shelley and acknowledgment as his wife. So completely, however, did they
+regard themselves as united for all time by indissoluble ties that she
+thought of the change chiefly as it affected other people.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary to Shelley.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Bath</span>, <i>17th December 1816</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My beloved Friend</span>&mdash;I waited with the greatest anxiety for your letter.
+You are well, and that assurance has restored some peace to me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>How very happy shall I be to possess those darling treasures that are
+yours. I do not exactly understand what Chancery has to do in this,
+and wait with impatience for to-morrow, when I shall hear whether they
+are with you; and then what will you do with them? My heart says,
+bring them instantly here; but I submit to your prudence. You do not
+mention Godwin. When I receive your letter to-morrow I shall write to
+Mrs. Godwin. I hope, yet I fear, that he will show on this occasion
+some disinterestedness. Poor, dear Fanny, if she had lived until this
+moment she would have been saved, for my house would then have been a
+proper asylum for her. Ah! my best love, to you do I owe every joy,
+every perfection that I may enjoy or boast of. Love me, sweet, for
+ever. I hardly know what I mean, I am so much agitated. Clare has a
+very bad cough, but I think she is better to-day. Mr. Carn talks of
+bleeding if she does not recover quickly, but she is positively
+resolved not to submit to that. She sends her love. My sweet love,
+deliver some message from me to your kind friends at Hampstead; tell
+Mrs. Hunt that I am extremely obliged to her for the little profile
+she was so kind as to send me, and thank Mr. Hunt for his friendly
+message which I did not hear.</p>
+
+<p>These Westbrooks! But they have nothing to do with your sweet babes;
+they are yours, and I do not see the pretence for a suit; but
+to-morrow I shall know all.</p>
+
+<p>Your box arrived to-day. I shall send soon to the upholsterer, for now
+I long more than ever that our house should be quickly ready for the
+reception of those dear children whom I love so tenderly. Then there
+will be a sweet brother and sister for my William, who will lose his
+pre-eminence as eldest, and be helped third at table, as Clare is
+continually reminding him.</p>
+
+<p>Come down to me, sweetest, as soon as you can, for I long to see you
+and embrace.</p>
+
+<p>As to the event you allude to, be governed by your friends and
+prudence as to when it ought to take place, but it must be in London.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>Clare has just looked in; she begs you not to stay away long, to be
+more explicit in your letters, and sends her love.</p>
+
+<p>You tell me to write a long letter, and I would, but that my ideas
+wander and my hand trembles. Come back to reassure me, my Shelley, and
+bring with you your darling Ianthe and Charles. Thank your kind
+friends. I long to hear about Godwin.&mdash;Your affectionate</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary</span>.</p>
+
+<p>Have you called on Hogg? I would hardly advise you. Remember me,
+sweet, in your sorrows as well as your pleasures; they will, I trust,
+soften the one and heighten the other feeling. Adieu.</p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To Percy Bysshe Shelley,</span><br />
+5 Gray&#8217;s Inn Square, London.</p></div>
+
+<p>No time was lost in putting things on their legal footing. Shelley took
+Mary up to town, where the marriage ceremony took place at St. Mildred&#8217;s
+Church, Broad Street, in presence of Godwin and Mrs. Godwin. On the
+previous day he had seen his daughter for the first time since her flight
+from his house two and a half years before.</p>
+
+<p>Both must have felt a strange emotion which, probably, neither of them
+allowed to appear.</p>
+
+<p>Mary for a fortnight left a blank in her journal. On her return to Clifton
+she thus shortly chronicled her days&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">I have omitted writing my journal for some time. Shelley goes to
+London and returns; I go with him; spend the time between Leigh Hunt&#8217;s
+and Godwin&#8217;s. A marriage takes place on the 29th of December 1816.
+Draw; read Lord Chesterfield and Locke.</p>
+
+<p>Godwin&#8217;s relief and satisfaction were great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> indeed. His letter to his
+brother in the country, announcing his daughter&#8217;s recent marriage with a
+baronet&#8217;s eldest son, can only be compared for adroit manipulation of
+facts with a later letter to Mr. Baxter of Dundee, in which he tells of
+poor Fanny&#8217;s having been attacked in Wales by an inflammatory fever &#8220;which
+carried her off.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He now surpassed himself &#8220;in polished and cautious attentions&#8221; both to
+Shelley and Mary, and appeared to wish to compensate in every way for the
+red-hot, righteous indignation which, owing to wounded pride rather than
+to offended moral sense, he had thought it his duty to exhibit in the
+past.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley&#8217;s heart yearned towards his two poor little children by Harriet,
+and to get possession of them was now his feverish anxiety. On this
+business he was obliged, within a week of his return to Bath, to go up
+again to London. During his absence, on the 13th of January, Clare&#8217;s
+little girl, Byron&#8217;s daughter, was born. &#8220;Four days of idleness,&#8221; are
+Mary&#8217;s only allusion to this event. It was communicated to the absent
+father by Shelley, in a long letter from London. He quite simply assumes
+the event to be an occasion of great rejoicing to all concerned, and
+expects Byron to feel the same. The infant, who afterwards developed into
+a singularly fascinating and lovely child, was described in enthusiastic
+terms by Mary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> as unusually beautiful and intelligent, even at this early
+stage. Their first name for her was Alba, or &#8220;the Dawn&#8221;; a reminiscence of
+Byron&#8217;s nickname, &#8220;Alb&eacute;.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Most of this month of January, while Mary had Clare and the infant to look
+after, was of necessity spent by Shelley in London. Harriet&#8217;s father, Mr.
+Westbrook, and his daughter Eliza had filed an appeal to the Court of
+Chancery, praying that her children might be placed in the custody of
+guardians to be appointed by the Court, and not in that of their father.
+On 24th January, poor little William&#8217;s first birthday, the case was heard
+before Lord Chancellor Eldon. Mary, expecting that the decision would be
+known at once, waited in painful suspense to hear the result.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Friday, January 24.</i>&mdash;My little William&#8217;s birthday. How many
+changes have occurred during this little year; may the ensuing one be
+more peaceful, and my William&#8217;s star be a fortunate one to rule the
+decision of this day. Alas! I fear it will be put off, and the
+influence of the star pass away. Read the <i>Arcadia</i> and <i>Amadis</i>; walk
+with my sweet babe.</p></div>
+
+<p>Her fears were realised, for two months were to elapse ere judgment was
+pronounced.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><i>Saturday, January 25.</i>&mdash;An unhappy day. I receive bad news and
+determine to go up to London. Read the <i>Arcadia</i> and <i>Amadis</i>. Letter
+from Mrs. Godwin and William.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, next day, Mary went up to join her husband in town, and notes
+in her diary that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> she was met at the inn by Mrs. Godwin and William. Well
+might Shelley say of the ceremony that it was &#8220;magical in its effects.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>As it turned out, this was her final departure from Bath: she never
+returned there. On her arrival in London she was warmly welcomed by
+Shelley&#8217;s new friends, the Leigh Hunts, at whose house most of her time
+was spent, and whose genial, social circle was most refreshing to her. The
+house at Marlow had been taken, and was now being prepared for her
+reception. Little William and his nurse, escorted by Clare, joined her at
+the Hunts on the 18th of February, but Clare herself stayed elsewhere. At
+the end of the month they all departed for their new home, and were
+established there early in March.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">March 1817-March 1818</span></p>
+
+<p>The Shelleys&#8217; new abode, although situated in a lovely part of the
+country, was cold and cheerless, and, at that bleak time of year, must
+have appeared at its worst. Albion House stood (and, though subdivided and
+much altered in appearance, still stands) in what is now the main street
+of Great Marlow, and at a considerable distance from the river. At the
+back the garden-plot rises gradually from the level of the house,
+terminating in a kind of artificial mound, overshadowed by a spreading
+cedar; a delightfully shady lounge in summer, but shutting off sky and
+sunshine from the house. There are two large, low, old-fashioned rooms;
+one on the ground floor, somewhat like a farmhouse kitchen; the other
+above it; both facing towards the garden. In one of these Shelley fitted
+up a library, little thinking that the dwelling, which he had rashly taken
+on a more than twenty years&#8217; lease, would be his home for only a year. The
+rest of the house accommodated Mary,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> Clare, the children and servants,
+and left plenty of room for visitors. Shelley was hospitality itself, and
+though he never was in greater trouble for money than during this year, he
+entertained a constant succession of guests. First among these was Godwin;
+next, and most frequent, the genial but needy Leigh Hunt, with all his
+family. With Mary, as with Shelley, he had quickly established himself on
+a footing of easy, affectionate friendliness, as may be inferred from
+Mary&#8217;s letter, written to him during her first days at Marlow.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Marlow</span>, <i>1 o&#8217;clock, 5th March 1817</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My Dear Hunt</span>&mdash;Although you mistook me in thinking I wished you to
+write about politics in your letters to me&mdash;as such a thought was very
+far from me,&mdash;yet I cannot help mentioning your last week&#8217;s
+<i>Examiner</i>, as its boldness gave me extreme pleasure. I am very glad
+to find that you wrote the leading article, which I had doubted, as
+there was no significant hand. But though I speak of this, do not fear
+that you will be teased by <i>me</i> on these subjects when we enjoy your
+company at Marlow. When there, you shall never be serious when you
+wish to be merry, and have as many nuts to crack as there are words in
+the Petitions to Parliament for Reform&mdash;a tremendous promise.</p>
+
+<p>Have you never felt in your succession of nervous feelings one single
+disagreeable truism gain a painful possession of your mind and keep it
+for some months? A year ago, I remember, my private hours were all
+made bitter by reflections on the certainty of death, and now the
+flight of time has the same power over me. Everything passes, and one
+is hardly conscious of enjoying the present until it becomes the past.
+I was reading the other day the letters of Gibbon. He entreats Lord
+Sheffield to come with all his family to visit him at Lausanne, and
+dwells on the pleasure such a visit will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> occasion. There is a little
+gap in the date of his letters, and then he complains that this
+solitude is made more irksome by their having been there and departed.
+So will it be with us in a few months when you will all have left
+Marlow. But I will not indulge this gloomy feeling. The sun shines
+brightly, and we shall be very happy in our garden this
+summer.&mdash;Affectionately yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Marina</span>.</p></div>
+
+<p>Not only did Shelley keep open house for his friends; his kindliness and
+benevolence to the distressed poor in Marlow and the surrounding country
+was unbounded. Nor was he content to give money relief; he visited the
+cottagers; and made himself personally acquainted with them, their needs,
+and their sufferings.</p>
+
+<p>In all these labours of love and charity he was heartily and constantly
+seconded by Mary.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">No more alone through the world&#8217;s wilderness,<br />
+Although (he) trod the paths of high intent,<br />
+(He) journeyed now.<a name='fna_23' id='fna_23' href='#f_23'><small>[23]</small></a></p>
+
+<p>From the time of her union with him Mary had been his consoler, his
+cherished love, all the dearer to him for the thought that she was
+dependent on him and only on him for comfort and support, and
+enlightenment of mind; but yet she was a child,&mdash;a clever child,&mdash;sedate
+and thoughtful beyond her years, and full of true womanly devotion,&mdash;but
+still one whose first and only acquaintance with the world had been made
+by coming violently into collision with it, a dangerous experience, and
+hardening, especially if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> prolonged. From the time of her marriage a
+maturer, mellower tone is perceptible throughout her letters and writings,
+as though, the unnatural strain removed, and, above all, intercourse with
+her father restored, she glided naturally and imperceptibly into the place
+Nature intended her to fill, as responsible woman and wife, with social as
+well as domestic duties to fulfil.</p>
+
+<p>The suffering of the past two or three years had left her wiser if also
+sadder than before; already she was beginning to look on life with a calm
+liberal judgment of one who knew both sides of many questions, yet still
+her mind retained the simplicity and her spirit much of the buoyancy of
+youth. The unquenchable spring of love and enthusiasm in Shelley&#8217;s breast,
+though it led him into errors and brought him grief and disillusionment,
+was a talisman that saved him from Byronic sarcasm, from the bitterness of
+recoil and the death of stagnation. He suffered from reaction, as all such
+natures must suffer, but Mary was by his side to steady and balance and
+support him, and to bring to him for his consolation the balm she had
+herself received from him. Well might he write&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">Now has descended a serener hour,<br />
+And, with inconstant fortune, friends return;<br />
+Though suffering leaves the knowledge and the power<br />
+Which says: Let scorn be not repaid with scorn.<a name='fna_24' id='fna_24' href='#f_24'><small>[24]</small></a></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>And consolation and support were sorely needed. In March Lord Chancellor
+Eldon pronounced the judgment by which he was deprived, on moral and
+religious grounds, of the custody of his two elder children. How bitterly
+he felt, how keenly he resented, this decree all the world knows. The
+paper which he drew up during this celebrated case, in which he declared,
+as far as he chose to declare them, his sentiments with regard to his
+separation from Harriet and his union with Mary, is the nearest approach
+to self-vindication Shelley ever made. But the decision of the Court cast
+a slur on his name, and on that of his second wife. The final arrangements
+about the children dragged on for many months. They were eventually given
+over to the guardianship of a clergyman, a stranger to their father, who
+had to set aside &pound;200 a year of his income for their maintenance in exile.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Godwin&#8217;s exactions were incessant, and his demands, sometimes
+impossible to grant, were harder than ever to deal with now that they were
+couched in terms of friendship, almost of affection. On 9th March we find
+Shelley writing to him&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">It gives me pain that I cannot send you the whole of what you want. I
+enclose a cheque to within a few pounds of my possessions.</p>
+
+<p>On 22d March (Godwin has been begging<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> again, but this time in behalf of
+his old assistant and amanuensis, Marshall)&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Marshall&#8217;s proposal is one in which, however reluctantly, I must
+refuse to engage. It is that I should grant bills to the amount of his
+debts, which are to expire in thirty months.</p></div>
+
+<p>On 15th April Godwin writes on his own behalf&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The fact is I owe &pound;400 on a similar score, beyond the &pound;100 that I owed
+in the middle of 1815; and without clearing this, my mind will never
+be perfectly free for intellectual occupations. If this were done, I
+am in hopes that the produce of <i>Mandeville</i>, and the sensible
+improvement in the commercial transactions of Skinner Street would
+make me a free man, perhaps, for the rest of my life....</p>
+
+<p>My life wears away in lingering sorrow at the endless delays that
+attend on this affair.... Once every two or three months I throw
+myself prostrate beneath the feet of Taylor of Norwich, and my other
+discounting friends, protesting that this is absolutely for the last
+time. Shall this ever have an end? Shall I ever be my own man again?</p></div>
+
+<p>One can imagine how such a letter would work on his daughter&#8217;s feelings.</p>
+
+<p>Nor was Charles Clairmont backward about putting in his claims, although
+his modest little requests require, like gems, to be extracted carefully
+from the discursive raptures, the eloquent flights of fancy and poetic
+description in which they are embedded. In January he had written from
+Bagn&egrave;res de Bigorre, where he was &#8220;acquiring the language&#8221;&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Sometimes I hardly dare believe, situated as I am, that I ought for a
+moment to nourish the feelings of which I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> now going to talk to
+you; at other times I am so thoroughly convinced of their infinite
+utility with regard to the moral existence of a being with strong
+sensations, or at all events with regard to mine, that I fly to this
+subject as to a tranquillising medicine, which has the power of so
+arranging and calming every violent and illicit sensation of the soul
+as to spread over the frame a deep and delightful contentment, for
+such is the effect produced upon me by a contemplation of the perfect
+state of existence, the perfect state of social domestic happiness
+which I propose to myself. My life has hitherto been a tissue of
+irregularity, which I assure you I am little content to reflect
+upon.... I have been always neglectful of one of the most precious
+possessions which a young man can hold&mdash;of my character.... You will
+now see the object of this letter.... I desire strongly to marry, and
+to devote myself to the temperate, rational duties of human life.... I
+see, I confess, some objections to this step.... I am not forgetful of
+what I owe to Godwin and my Mother, but we are in a manner entirely
+separated.... It is true my feelings towards my Mother are cold and
+inactive, but my attachment and respect for Godwin are unalterable,
+and will remain so to the last moment of my existence.... The news of
+his death would be to me a stroke of the severest affliction; that of
+my own Mother would be no more than the sorrow occasioned by the loss
+of a common acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>... Unless every obstacle on the part of the object of my affection
+were laid aside, you may suppose I should not speak so decisively. She
+is perfectly acquainted with every circumstance respecting me, and we
+feel that we love and are suited to each other; we feel that we should
+be exquisitely happy in being devoted to each other.</p>
+
+<p>... I feel that I could not offer myself to the family without
+assuring them of my capability of commanding an annual sufficiency to
+support a little <i>m&eacute;nage</i>&mdash;that is to say, as near as I can obtain
+information, 2000 francs, or about &pound;80.... Do I dream, my dear
+Shelley, when a gleam of gay hope gives me reason to doubt of the
+possibility of my scheme?...<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> Pray lose no time in writing to me, and
+be as explicit as possible.</p></div>
+
+<p>The following extract is from a letter to Mary, written in August (the
+matrimonial scheme is now quite forgotten)&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>I will begin by telling you that I received &pound;10 some days ago, minus
+the expenses.... I also received your letter, but not till after the
+money.... I am most extremely vexed that Shelley will not oblige me
+with a single word. It is now nearly six months that I have expected
+from him a letter about my future plans.</p>
+
+<p>Do, my dear Mary, persuade him to talk with you about them; and if he
+always persists in remaining silent, I beg you will write for him, and
+ask him what he would be inclined to approve.... Had I a little
+fortune of &pound;200 or &pound;300 a year, nothing should ever tempt me to make
+an effort to increase this golden sufficiency....</p>
+
+<p>Respecting money matters.... I still owe (on the score of my
+<i>pension</i>) nearly &pound;15, this is all my debt here. Another month will
+accumulate before I can receive your answer, and you will judge of
+what will be necessary to me on the road, to whatever place I may be
+destined. I cannot spend less than 3s. 6d. per day.</p>
+
+<p>If Papa&#8217;s novel is finished before you write, I wish to God you would
+send it. I am now absolutely without money, but I have no occasion for
+any, except for washing and postage, and for such little necessaries I
+find no difficulty in borrowing a small sum.</p>
+
+<p>If I knew Mamma&#8217;s address, I should certainly write to her in France.
+I have no heart to write to Skinner Street, for they will not answer
+my letters. Perhaps, now that this haughty woman is absent, I should
+obtain a letter. I think I shall make an effort with Fanny. As for
+Clare, she has entirely forgotten that she has a brother in the
+world.... Tell me if Godwin has been to visit you at Marlow; if you
+see Fanny<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> often; and all about the two Williams. What is Shelley
+writing?</p></div>
+
+<p>Shelley, when this letter arrived, was writing <i>The Revolt of Islam</i>. To
+this poem, in spite of duns, sponges, and law&#8217;s delays, his thoughts and
+time were consecrated during his first six months at Marlow; in spite,
+too, of his constant succession of guests; but society with him was not
+always a hindrance to poetic creation or intellectual work. Indeed, a
+congenial presence afforded him a kind of relief, a half-unconscious
+stimulus which yet was no serious interruption to thought, for it was
+powerless to recall him from his abstraction.</p>
+
+<p>Mary&#8217;s life at Marlow was very different from what it had been at
+Bishopsgate and Bath. Her duties as house-mistress and hostess as well as
+Shelley&#8217;s companion and helpmeet left her not much time for reverie. But
+her regular habits of study and writing stood her in good stead.
+<i>Frankenstein</i> was completed and corrected before the end of May. It was
+offered to Murray, who, however, declined it, and was eventually published
+by Lackington.</p>
+
+<p>The negotiations with publishers calling her up to town, she paid a visit
+to Skinner Street. Shelley accompanied her, but was obliged to return to
+Marlow almost immediately, and as Mrs. Godwin also appears to have been
+absent,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> Mary stayed alone with her father in her old home. To him this
+was a pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Such a visit,&#8221; he had written to Shelley, &#8220;will tend to bring back years
+that are passed, and make me young again. It will also operate to render
+us more familiar and intimate, meeting in this snug and quiet house, for
+such it appears to me, though I daresay you will lift up your hands, and
+wonder I can give it that appellation.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>To Mary every room in the house must have been fraught with unspeakable
+associations. Alone with the memories of those who were gone, of others
+who were alienated; conscious of the complete change in herself and
+transference of her sphere of sympathy, she must have felt, when Shelley
+left her, like a solitary wanderer in a land of shadows.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;I am very well here,&#8221; she wrote, &#8220;but so intolerably restless that it
+is painful to sit still for five minutes. Pray write. I hear so little
+from Marlow that I can hardly believe that you and Willman live there.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Another train of mingled recollections was awakened by the fact of her
+chancing, one evening, to read through that third canto of <i>Childe Harold</i>
+which Byron had written during their summer in Switzerland together.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Do you remember, Shelley, when you first read it to me one evening
+after returning from Diodati. The lake was before us, and the mighty
+Jura. That time is past, and this will also pass, when I may weep to
+read these words....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> Death will at length come, and in the last
+moment all will be a dream.</p>
+
+<p>What Mary felt was crystallised into expression by Shelley, not many
+months later&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">The stream we gazed on then, rolled by,<br />
+Its waves are unreturning;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">But we yet stand</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">In a lone land,</span><br />
+Like tombs to mark the memory<br />
+Of hopes and fears, which fade and flee<br />
+In the light of life&#8217;s dim morning.</p>
+
+<p>On the last day of May, Mary returned to Marlow, where the Hunts were
+making a long stay. Externally life went quietly on. The summer was hot
+and beautiful, and they passed whole days in their boat or their garden,
+or in the woods. Their studies, as usual, were unremitting. Mary applied
+herself to the works of Tacitus, Buffon, Rousseau, and Gibbon. Shelley&#8217;s
+reading at this time was principally Greek: Homer, &AElig;schylus, and Plato.
+His poem was approaching completion. Mary, now that <i>Frankenstein</i> was off
+her hands, busied herself in writing out the journal of their first
+travels. It was published, in December, as <i>Journal of a Six Weeks&#8217; Tour</i>,
+together with the descriptive letters from Geneva of 1816.</p>
+
+<p>But her peace and Shelley&#8217;s was threatened by an undercurrent of ominous
+disturbance which gained force every day.</p>
+
+<p>Byron remained abroad. But Clare and Clare&#8217;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> baby remained with the
+Shelleys. At Bath she had passed as &#8220;Mrs.&#8221; Clairmont, but now resumed her
+former style, while Alba was said to be the daughter of a friend in
+London, sent for her health into the country. As time, however, went by,
+and the infant still formed one of the Marlow household, curiosity, never
+long dormant, became aroused. Whose was this child? And if, as officious
+gossip was not slow to suggest, it was Clare&#8217;s, then who was its father?
+As month after month passed without bringing any solution of this problem,
+the vilest reports arose concerning the supposed relations of the
+inhabitants of Albion House&mdash;false rumours that embittered the lives of
+Alba&#8217;s generous protectors, but to which Shelley&#8217;s unconventionality and
+unorthodox opinions, and the stigma attached to his name by the Chancery
+decree, gave a certain colour of probability, and which in part, though
+indirectly, conduced to his leaving England again,&mdash;as it proved, for
+ever.</p>
+
+<p>Again and again did he write to Byron, pointing out with great gentleness
+and delicacy, but still in the plainest terms, the false situation in
+which they were placed with regard to friends and even to servants by
+their effort to keep Clare&#8217;s secret; suggesting, almost entreating, that,
+if no permanent decision could be arrived at, some temporary arrangement
+should at least be made for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> Alba&#8217;s boarding elsewhere. Byron, at this
+time plunged in dissipation at Venice, shelved or avoided the subject as
+long as he could. Clare was friendless and penniless, and her chances of
+ever earning an honest living depended on her power of keeping up
+appearances and preserving her character before the world. But the child
+was a remarkably beautiful, intelligent, and engaging creature, and its
+mother, impulsive, uncontrolled, and reckless, was at no trouble to
+conceal her devotion to it, regardless of consequences, and of the fact
+that these consequences had to be endured by others.</p>
+
+<p>Those who had forfeited the world&#8217;s kindness seemed, as such, to be the
+natural <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;s</i> of Shelley; and even Mary, who, not long before, had
+summed up all her earthly wishes in two items,&mdash;&#8220;a garden, <i>et absentia
+Claire</i>,&#8221;&mdash;stood by her now in spite of all. But their letters make it
+perfectly evident that they were fully alive to the danger that threatened
+them, and that, though they willingly harboured the child until some safe
+and fitting asylum should be found for it, they had never contemplated its
+residing permanently with them.</p>
+
+<p>To Mary Shelley this state of things brought one bitter personal grief and
+disappointment in the loss of her earliest friend, Isabel or Isobel
+Baxter, now married to Mr. David Booth, late brewer and subsequently
+schoolmaster at <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>Newburgh-on-Tay, a man of shrewd and keen intellect, an
+immense local reputation for learning, and an estimation of his own gifts
+second to that of none of his admirers.</p>
+
+<p>The Baxters, as has already been said, were people of independent mind, of
+broad and liberal views; full of reverence and admiration for the
+philosophical writings of Godwin. Mary, in her extreme youth and
+inexperience, had quite expected that Isabel would have upheld her action
+when she first left her father&#8217;s house with Shelley. In that she was
+disappointed, as was, after all, not surprising.</p>
+
+<p>Now, however, her friend, whose heart must have been with her all along,
+would surely feel justified in following that heart&#8217;s dictates, and would
+return to the familiar, affectionate friendship which survives so many
+differences of opinion. And her hope received an encouragement when, in
+August, Mr. Baxter, Isabel&#8217;s father, accepted an invitation to stay at
+Marlow. He arrived on the 1st of September, full of doubts as to what sort
+of place he was coming to,&mdash;apprehensions which, after a very short
+intercourse with Shelley, were changed into surprise and delight.</p>
+
+<p>But his visit was cut short by the birth, on the very next day, of Mary&#8217;s
+little girl, Clara. He found it expedient to depart for a time, but
+returned later in the month for a longer stay.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>This second visit more than confirmed his first impression, and he wrote
+to his daughter in warm, nay, enthusiastic praise of Shelley, against whom
+Isabel was, not unnaturally, much prejudiced, so much so, it seems, as to
+blind her even to the merits of his writings.</p>
+
+<p>After a warm panegyric of Shelley as</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">A being of rare genius and talent, of truly republican frugality and
+plainness of manners, and of a soundness of principle and delicacy of
+moral tact that might put to shame (if shame they had) many of his
+detractors,&mdash;and withal so amiable that you have only to be half an
+hour in his company to convince you that there is not an atom of
+malevolence in his whole composition.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baxter proceeds&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Is there any wonder that I should become attached to such a man,
+holding out the hand of kindness and friendship towards me? Certainly
+not. Your praise of his book<a name='fna_25' id='fna_25' href='#f_25'><small>[25]</small></a> put me in mind of what Pope says of
+Addison&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">Damn with faint praise; assent with civil leer,<br />
+And, without sneering, others teach to sneer.</p>
+
+<p>[You say] &#8220;some parts appear to be well written, but the arguments
+appear to me to be neither new nor very well managed.&#8221; After Hume such
+a publication is quite puerile! As to the arguments not being new, it
+would be a wonder indeed if any new arguments could be adduced in a
+controversy which has been carried on almost since ever letters were
+known. As to their not being well managed, I should be happy if you
+would condescend on the particular instances of their being ill
+managed; it was the first of Shelley&#8217;s works I had read. I read it
+with the notion that it <i>could</i> only contain silly, crude, undigested
+and puerile remarks on a worn-out subject; and yet I was unable to
+discover any of that want of management which you complain of; but,
+God help me, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> thought I saw in it everything that was opposite. As
+to its being puerile to write on such a subject after David Hume, I by
+no means think that he has exhausted the subject. I think rather that
+he has only proposed it&mdash;thrown it out, as it were, for a matter of
+discussion to others who might come after him, and write in a less
+bigoted, more liberal, and more enlightened age than the one he lived
+in. Think only how many great men&#8217;s labours we should decree to be
+puerile if we were to hold everything puerile that has been written on
+this subject since the days of Hume! Indeed, my dear, the remark
+altogether savours more of the envy and illiberality of one jealous of
+his talents than the frankness and candour characteristic of my
+Isobel. Think, my dear, think for a moment what you would have said of
+this work had it come from Robert,<a name='fna_26' id='fna_26' href='#f_26'><small>[26]</small></a> who is as old as Shelley was
+when he wrote it, or had it come from me, or even from&mdash;&mdash;O! I must
+not say David:<a name='fna_27' id='fna_27' href='#f_27'><small>[27]</small></a> he, to be sure, is far above any such puerility.</p></div>
+
+<p>Her father&#8217;s letter made Isabel waver, but in vain. It had no effect on
+Mr. Booth, who had been at the trouble of collecting and believing all the
+scandals about Alba, or &#8220;Miss Auburn,&#8221; as she seems to have been called.
+He was not one to be biassed by personal feelings or beguiled by fair
+appearances, in the face of stubborn, unaccountable facts. He preferred to
+take the facts and draw his own inference&mdash;an inference which apparently
+seemed to him no improbable one.</p>
+
+<p>For a long time nothing decisive was said or done, but while the fate of
+her early friendship hung in the balances, Mary&#8217;s anxiety for some
+settlement about Alba became almost intolerable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> to her, weighing on her
+spirits, and helping, with other depressing causes, to retard her
+restoration to health.</p>
+
+<p>On the 19th of September she summed up in her journal the heads of the
+seventeen days after Clara&#8217;s birth during which she had written nothing.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>I am confined Tuesday, 2d. Read <i>Rhoda</i>, Pastor&#8217;s <i>Fireside</i>,
+<i>Missionary</i>, <i>Wild Irish Girl</i>, <i>The Anaconda</i>, <i>Glenarvon</i>, first
+volume of Percy&#8217;s <i>Northern Antiquities</i>. Bargain with Lackington
+concerning <i>Frankenstein</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Letter from Alb&eacute; (Byron). An unamiable letter from Godwin about Mrs.
+Godwin&#8217;s visits. Mr. Baxter returns to town. Thursday, 4th, Shelley
+writes his poem; his health declines. Friday, 19th, Hunts arrive.</p></div>
+
+<p>As the autumn advanced it became evident that the sunless house at Marlow
+was exceedingly cold, and far too dreary a winter residence to be
+desirable for one of Shelley&#8217;s feeble constitution, or even for Mary and
+her infant children. Shelley&#8217;s health grew worse and worse. His poem was
+finished and dedicated to Mary in the beautiful lines beginning&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">So now my summer-task is ended, Mary,<br />
+And I return to thee, mine own heart&#8217;s home;<br />
+As to his Queen some victor Knight of Fa&euml;ry,<br />
+Earning bright spoils for her enchanted dome;<br />
+Nor thou disdain, that ere my fame become<br />
+A star among the stars of mortal night,<br />
+If it indeed may cleave its natal gloom,<br />
+Its doubtful promise thus I would unite<br />
+With thy beloved name, thou Child of love and light.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>But the reaction from the &#8220;agony and bloody sweat of intellectual
+travail,&#8221; the troubles and griefs of the past year, and the ceaseless
+worry about money, all told injuriously on his physical state. He had to
+be constantly away from his home, up in town, on business; and his
+thoughts turned longingly again towards Italy. Byron had signified his
+consent to receive and provide for his daughter, subject to certain
+stringent conditions, chief among which was the child&#8217;s complete
+separation from its mother, from the time it passed into his keeping. In
+writing to him on 24th September, Shelley adverts to his own wish to
+winter at Pisa, and the possibility in this case of his being himself
+Alba&#8217;s escort to Italy.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;Now, dearest, let me talk to you,&#8221; he writes to Mary. &#8220;I think we
+ought to go to Italy. I think my health might receive a renovation
+there, for want of which perhaps I should never entirely overcome that
+state of diseased action which is so painful to my beloved. I think
+Alba ought to be with her father. This is a thing of incredible
+importance to the happiness, perhaps, of many human beings. It might
+be managed without our going there. Yes; but not without an expense
+which would, in fact, suffice to settle us comfortably in a spot where
+I might be regaining that health which you consider so valuable. It is
+valuable to you, my own dearest. I see too plainly that you will never
+be quite happy till I am well. Of myself I do not speak, for I feel
+only for you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He goes on to discuss the practicability of the plan from the financial
+point of view, calculating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> what sum they may hope to get by the sale of
+their lease and furniture, and how much he may be able to borrow, either
+from his kind friend Horace Smith, or from money-lenders on <i>post obits</i>,
+a ruinous process to which he was, all his life, forced to resort.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mary in the chilly house at Marlow, with her three-weeks-old baby,
+her strength far from re-established, and her house full of guests, who
+made themselves quite at home, was not likely to take the most sanguine
+view of affairs.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><i>25th September 1817.</i></p>
+
+<p>You tell me, dearest, to write you long letters, but I do not know
+whether I can to-day, as I am rather tired. My spirits, however, are
+much better than they were, and perhaps your absence is the cause. Ah!
+my love! you cannot guess how wretched it was to see your languor and
+increasing illness. I now say to myself, perhaps he is better; but
+then I watched you every moment, and every moment was full of pain
+both to you and to me. Write, my love, a long account of what Lawrence
+says; I shall be very anxious until I hear.</p>
+
+<p>I do not see a great deal of our guests; they rise late, and walk all
+the morning. This is something like a contrary fit of Hunt&#8217;s, for I
+meant to walk to-day, and said so; but they left me, and I hardly wish
+to take my first walk by myself; however, I must to-morrow, if he
+still shows the same want of <i>tact</i>. Peacock dines here every day,
+<i>uninvited</i>, to drink his bottle. I have not seen him; he morally
+disgusts me; and Marianne says that he is very ill-tempered.</p>
+
+<p>I was much pained last night to hear from Mr. Baxter that Mr. Booth is
+ill-tempered and jealous towards Isabel; and Mr. Baxter thinks she
+half regrets her marriage; so she is to be another victim of that
+ceremony. Mr. Baxter is not at all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> pleased with his son-in-law; but
+we can talk of that when we meet.</p>
+
+<p>... A letter came from Godwin to-day, very short. You will see him;
+tell me how he is. You are loaded with business, the event of most of
+which I am anxious to learn, and none so much as whether you can do
+anything for my Father.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Marlow</span>, <i>26th September 1817</i>.</p>
+
+<p>You tell me to decide between Italy and the sea. I think, dearest,
+if&mdash;what you do not seem to doubt, but which I do, a little&mdash;our
+finances are in sufficiently good a state to bear the expense of the
+journey, our inclination ought to decide. I feel some reluctance at
+quitting our present settled state, but as we <i>must</i> leave Marlow, I
+do not know that stopping short on this side the Channel would be
+pleasanter to me than crossing it. At any rate, my love, do not let us
+encumber ourselves with a lease again.... By the bye, talking of
+authorship, do get a sketch of Godwin&#8217;s plan from him. I do not think
+that I ought to get out of the habit of writing, and I think that the
+thing he talked of would just suit me. I am glad to hear that Godwin
+is well.... As to Mrs. Godwin, something very analogous to disgust
+arises whenever I mention her. That last accusation of Godwin&#8217;s<a name='fna_28' id='fna_28' href='#f_28'><small>[28]</small></a>
+adds bitterness to every feeling I ever felt against her.... Mr.
+Baxter thinks that Mr. Booth keeps Isabel from writing to me. He has
+written to her to-day warmly in praise of us both, and telling her by
+all means not to let the acquaintance cool, and that in such a case
+her loss would be much greater than mine. He has taken a prodigious
+fancy to us, and is continually talking of and praising &#8220;Queen Mab,&#8221;
+which he vows is the best poem of modern days.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Marlow</span>, <i>28th September 1817</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dearest Love</span>&mdash;Clare arrived yesterday night, and whether it might be
+that she was in a croaking humour (in ill spirits she certainly was),
+or whether she represented things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> as they really were, I know not,
+but certainly affairs did not seem to wear a very good face. She talks
+of Harriet&#8217;s debts to a large amount, and something about Longdill&#8217;s
+having undertaken for them, so that they must be paid. She mentioned
+also that you were entering into a <i>post obit</i> transaction. Now this
+requires our serious consideration on one account. These things (<i>post
+obits</i>), as you well know, are affairs of wonderful length; and if you
+must complete one before you settle on going to Italy, Alba&#8217;s
+departure ought certainly not to be delayed.... You have not mentioned
+yet to Godwin your thoughts of Italy; but if you determine soon, I
+would have you do it, as these things are always better to be talked
+of some days before they take place. I took my first walk to-day. What
+a dreadfully cold place this house is! I was shivering over a fire,
+and the garden looked cold and dismal; but as soon as I got into the
+road, I found, to my infinite surprise, that the sun was shining, and
+the air warm and delightful.... I will now tell you something that
+will make you laugh, if you are not too teased and ill to laugh at
+anything. Ah! dearest, is it so? You know now how melancholy it makes
+me sometimes to think how ill and comfortless you may be, and I so far
+away from you. But to my story. In Elise&#8217;s last letter to her <i>chere
+amie</i>, Clare put in that Madame Clairmont was very ill, so that her
+life was in danger, and added, in Elise&#8217;s person, that she (Elise) was
+somewhat shocked to perceive that Mademoiselle Clairmont&#8217;s gaiety was
+not abated by the <i>douloureuse</i> situation of her amiable sister. Jenny
+replies&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mon amie, avec quel chagrin j&#8217;apprends la maladie de cette jolie et
+aimable Madame Clairmont; pauvre ch&egrave;re dame, comme je la plains. Sans
+doute elle aime tendrement son mari, et en &ecirc;tre s&eacute;par&eacute;e pour
+toujours&mdash;en avoir la certitude elle sentir&mdash;quelle cruelle chose;
+qu&#8217;il doit &ecirc;tre un m&eacute;chant homme pour quitter sa femme. Je ne sais ce
+qu&#8217;il y a, mais cette jeune et jolie femme me tient singuli&egrave;rement au
+c&oelig;ur; je l&#8217;avoue que je n&#8217;aime point mademoiselle sa s&oelig;ur.
+Comment! avoir &agrave; craindre pour les jours d&#8217;une si charmante<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> s&oelig;ur,
+et n&#8217;en pas perdre un grain de ga&icirc;t&eacute;; elle me met en colere.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Here is a noble resentment thrown away! Really I think this
+<i>mystification</i> of Clare&#8217;s a little wicked, although laughable. I am
+just now surrounded by babes. Alba is scratching and crowing, William
+is amusing himself with wrapping a shawl round him, and Miss Clara
+staring at the fire.... Adieu, dearest love. I want to say again, that
+you may fully answer me, how very, <i>very</i> anxious I am to know the
+whole extent of your present difficulties and pursuits; and remember
+also that if this <i>post obit</i> is to be a long business, Alba must go
+before it is finished. Willy is just going to bed. When I ask him
+where you are, he makes me a long speech that I do not understand. But
+I know my own one, that you are away, and I wish that you were with
+me. Come soon, my own only love.&mdash;Your affectionate girl,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">M. W. S.</p>
+
+<p><i>P.S.</i>&mdash;What of <i>Frankenstein</i>? and your own poem&mdash;have you fixed on a
+name? Give my love to Godwin when Mrs. Godwin is not by, or you must
+give it her, and I do not love her.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="right"><i>5th October 1817.</i></p>
+
+<p>... How happy I shall be, my own dear love, to see you again. Your
+last was so very, very short a visit; and after you were gone I
+thought of so many things I had to say to you, and had no time to say.
+Come Tuesday, dearest, and let us enjoy some of each other&#8217;s company;
+come and see your sweet babes and the little Commodore;<a name='fna_29' id='fna_29' href='#f_29'><small>[29]</small></a> she is
+lively and an uncommonly interesting child. I never see her without
+thinking of the expressions in my mother&#8217;s letters concerning Fanny.
+If a mother&#8217;s eyes were not partial, she seemed like this Alba. She
+mentions her intelligent eyes and great vivacity; but this is a
+melancholy subject.</p></div>
+
+<p>But Shelley&#8217;s enforced absences became more and more frequent; brief
+visits to his home were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> all that he could snatch. As the desire to escape
+grew stronger, the fair prospect only seemed to recede. New complications
+appeared in the shape of Harriet&#8217;s creditors, who pressed hard on Shelley
+for a settlement of their hitherto unknown and unsuspected claims. So
+perilous with regard to them was his position that Mary herself was fain
+to caution him to stay away and out of sight for fear of arrest. It was
+almost more than she could do to keep up the mask of cheerfulness, yet her
+letters of counsel and encouragement were her husband&#8217;s mainstay.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;Dearest and best of living beings,&#8221; he wrote in October, &#8220;how much do
+your letters console me when I am away from you. Your letter to-day
+gave me the greatest delight; so soothing, so powerful and quiet are
+your expressions, that it is almost like folding you to my heart....
+My own Mary, would it not be better for you to come to London at once?
+I think we could quite as easily do something with the house if you
+were in London&mdash;that is to say, all of you&mdash;as in the country.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The next two letters were written in much depression. She could not get up
+her strength; she dared not indulge in the hope of going abroad, for she
+realised, as Shelley could not do, how little money they would have and
+how much they already owed. Their income, and more, went in supporting and
+paying for other people, and left them nothing to live on! Clare was
+unsettled, unhappy, and petulant. Godwin, ignorant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> like the rest of the
+world of her story and her present situation, unaware of Shelley&#8217;s
+proposed move, and certain to oppose it with the energy of despair when he
+heard of it, was an impending visitor.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><i>16th October 1817.</i></p>
+
+<p>So you do not come to-night love, nor any night; you are always away,
+and this absence is long and becomes each day more dreary. Poor
+Curran! so he is dead, and a sod on his breast, as four years ago I
+heard him prophesy would be the case within that year.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing is done, you say in your letter, and indeed I do not expect
+anything will be done these many months. This, if you continued well,
+would not give me so much pain, except on Alba&#8217;s account. If she were
+with her father, I could wait patiently, but the thought of what may
+come &#8220;between the cup and the lip&#8221;&mdash;between now and her arrival at
+Venice&mdash;is a heavy burthen on my soul. He may change his mind, or go
+to Greece, or to the devil; and then what happens?</p>
+
+<p>My dearest Shelley, be not, I entreat you, too self-negligent; yet
+what can you do? If you were here, you might retort that question upon
+me; but when I write to you I indulge false hopes of some miraculous
+answer springing up in the interval. Does not Longdill<a name='fna_30' id='fna_30' href='#f_30'><small>[30]</small></a> treat you
+ill? he makes out long bills and does nothing. You say nothing of the
+late arrest, and what may be the consequences, and may they not detain
+you? and may you not be detained many months? for Godwin must not be
+left unprovided. All these things make me run over the months, and
+know not where to put my finger and say&mdash;during this year your Italian
+journey shall commence. Yet when I say that it is on Alba&#8217;s account
+that I am anxious, this is only when you are away, and with too much
+faith I believe you to be well. When I see you, drooping and languid,
+in pain, and unable to enjoy life, then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> on your account I ardently
+wish for bright skies and Italian sun.</p>
+
+<p>You will have received, I hope, the manuscript that I sent yesterday
+in a parcel to Hookham. I am glad to hear that the printing goes on
+well; bring down all that you can with you.</p>
+
+<p>If we were free and had no anxiety, what delight would Godwin&#8217;s visit
+give me; as it is, I fear that it will make me dreadfully miserable.
+Cannot you come with him? By the way you write I hardly expect you
+this week, but is it really so?</p>
+
+<p>I think Alba&#8217;s remaining here exceedingly dangerous, yet I do not see
+what is to be done. Your babes are well. Clara already replies to her
+nurse&#8217;s caresses by smiles, and Willy kisses her with great
+tenderness.&mdash;Your affectionate</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary</span>.</p>
+
+<p><i>P.S.</i>&mdash;I wish you would purchase a gown for Milly,<a name='fna_31' id='fna_31' href='#f_31'><small>[31]</small></a> with a little
+note with it from Marianne,<a name='fna_32' id='fna_32' href='#f_32'><small>[32]</small></a> that it may appear to come from her.
+You can get one, I should think, for 12s. or 14s.; but it must be
+<i>stout</i>; such a kind of one as we gave to the servant at Bath.</p>
+
+<p>Willy has just said good-night to me; he kisses the paper and says
+good-night to you. Clara is asleep.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Marlow</span>, <i>Saturday, 18th October 1817</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wright has called here to-day, my dearest Shelley, and wished to
+see you. I can hardly have any doubt that his business is of the same
+nature as that which made him call last week. You will judge, but it
+appears to me that an arrest on Monday will follow your arrival on
+Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>My love, you ought not to come down. A long, long week has passed, and
+when at length I am allowed to expect you, I am obliged to tell you
+not to come. This is very cruel. You may easily judge that I am not
+happy; my spirits sink during this continued absence. Godwin, too,
+will come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> down; he will talk as if we meant to stay here; and I
+must&mdash;must I?&mdash;tell fifty prevarications or direct <i>lies</i>. When I
+thought that you would be here also, I knew that your presence would
+lead to general conversation; but Clare will absent herself. We shall
+be alone, and he will talk of your private affairs. I am sure that I
+shall never be able to support it.</p>
+
+<p>And when is this to end? Italy appears to me farther off than ever,
+and the idea of it never enters my mind but Godwin enters also, and
+makes it lie heavy at my heart. Had you not better speak? you might
+relieve me from a heavy burden. Surely he cannot be blind to the many
+heavy reasons that urge us. Your health, the indispensable one, if
+every other were away. I assure you that if my Father said, &#8220;Yes, you
+must go; do what you can for me; I know that you will do all you can;&#8221;
+I should, far from writing so melancholy a letter, prepare everything
+with a light heart; arrange our affairs here; and come up to town, to
+await patiently the effect of your efforts. I know not whether it is
+early habit or affection, but the idea of his silent quiet
+disapprobation makes me weep as it did in the days of my childhood.</p>
+
+<p>I shall not see you to-morrow. God knows when I shall see you! Clare
+is for ever wearying with her idle and childish complaints. Can you
+not send me some consolation?&mdash;Ever your affectionate</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary</span>.</p></div>
+
+<p>The fears of an arrest were not realised. Early in November Shelley came
+for three days to Marlow, after which Mary went up to stay with him in
+London.</p>
+
+<p>During this fortnight&#8217;s visit the question of renewed intercourse with
+Isabel Booth was practically decided, and decided against Mary. She had
+written on the 4th of November to Mr. Baxter inviting Christy to come on a
+visit. Subsequently a plan was started for Isabel Booth&#8217;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> accompanying
+the Shelleys in their Italian trip,&mdash;they little dreaming that when they
+left England it would be for the last time.</p>
+
+<p>Apparently Mr. Baxter made some effort to bring Mr. Booth round to his way
+of thinking. The two passed an evening with the Shelleys at their
+lodgings. But it availed nothing, and in the end poor Mr. Baxter was
+driven himself to write to Shelley, breaking off the acquaintance. The
+letter was written much against the grain, and contrary to the convictions
+of the writer, who seems to have been much put to it to account for his
+action, the true grounds for which he could not bring himself to give.
+Shelley, however, was not slow to divine the real instigator in the
+affair, and wrote back a letter which, by its temperance, simplicity, and
+dignity, must have pricked Baxter to the heart. Mary added a playful
+postscript, showing that she still clung to hope&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>&mdash;You see I prophesied well three months ago, when you were
+here. I then said that I was sure Mr. Booth was averse to our
+intercourse, and would find some means to break it off. I wish I had
+you by the fire here in my little study, and it might be &#8220;double,
+double, toil and trouble,&#8221; but I could quickly convince you that your
+girls are not below me in station, and that, in fact, I am the fittest
+companion for them in the world, but I postpone the argument until I
+see you, for I know (pardon me) that <i>viva voce</i> is all in all with you.</p>
+
+<p>Two or three times more Mary wrote to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> Isabel, but the correspondence
+dropped and the friends met no more for many years.</p>
+
+<p>The preparations for their migration extended over two or three months
+more. During January Shelley suffered much from the renewal of an attack
+of ophthalmia, originally caught while visiting the poor people at Marlow.
+The house there was finally sold, and on the 10th of February they quitted
+it and went up to London. Their final departure from England did not take
+place until March. They made the most of their time of waiting, seeing as
+much of their friends and of objects of interest as circumstances allowed.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Thursday, February 12</i> (Mary).&mdash;Go to the Indian Library and
+the Panorama of Rome. On Friday, 13th, spend the morning at the
+British Museum looking at the Elgin marbles. On Saturday, 14th, go to
+Hunt&#8217;s. Clare and Shelley go to the opera. On Sunday, 15th, Mr.
+Bransen, Peacock, and Hogg dine with us.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, February 18.</i>&mdash;Spend the day at Hunt&#8217;s. On Thursday, 19th,
+dine at Horace Smith&#8217;s, and copy Shelley&#8217;s Eclogue. On Friday, 20th,
+copy Shelley&#8217;s critique on <i>Rhododaphne</i>. Go to the Apollonicon with
+Shelley. On Saturday, 21st, copy Shelley&#8217;s critique, and go to the
+opera in the evening. Spend Sunday at Hunt&#8217;s. On Monday, 23d February,
+finish copying Shelley&#8217;s critique, and go to the play in the
+evening&mdash;<i>The Bride of Abydos</i>. On Tuesday go to the opera&mdash;<i>Figaro</i>.
+On Wednesday Hunt dines with us. Shelley is not well.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, March 1.</i>&mdash;Read Montaigne. Spend the evening at Hunt&#8217;s. On
+Monday, 2d, Shelley calls on Mr. Baxter. Isabel Booth is arrived, but
+neither comes nor sends. Go to the play in the evening with Hunt and
+Marianne, and see a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> new comedy damned. On Thursday, 5th, Papa calls,
+and Clare visits Mrs. Godwin. On Sunday, 8th, we dine at Hunt&#8217;s, and
+meet Mr. Novello. Music.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, March 9.</i>&mdash;Christening the children.</p></div>
+
+<p>This was doubtless a measure of precaution, lest the omission of any such
+ceremony might in some future time operate as a civil disadvantage towards
+the children. They received the names of William, Clara Everina, and Clara
+Allegra.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Tuesday, March 10.</i>&mdash;Packing. Hunt and Marianne spend the day with
+us. Mary Lamb calls. Papa in the evening. Our adieus.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, March 11.</i>&mdash;Travel to Dover.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, March 12.</i>&mdash;France. Discussion of whether we should cross.
+Our passage is rough; a sick lady is frightened and says the Lord&#8217;s
+Prayer. We arrive at Calais for the third time.</p></div>
+
+<p>Mary little thought how long it would be before she saw the English shores
+again, nor that, when she returned, it would be alone.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">March 1818-June 1819</span></p>
+
+<p>The external events of the four Italian years have been repeatedly told
+and profusely commented on by Shelley&#8217;s various biographers. Summed up,
+they are the history of a long strife between the intellectual and
+creative stimulus of lovely scenes and immortal works of art on the one
+hand, and the wearing friction of vexatious outward events and crushing
+afflictions on the other. For Shelley they were a period of rapid, of
+exotic, mental growth and development, interspersed with intervals of
+exhaustion and depression, of restlessness, or unnatural calm. For Mary
+they were years of courageous effort, of heroic resistance to overpowering
+odds. She endured, and she overcame; but some victories are obtained at
+such cost as to be at the time scarcely distinguishable from defeats, and
+the story of hers survives in no one act or work of her own, but in the
+<i>Cenci</i>, <i>Prometheus Unbound</i>, <i>Epipsychidion</i>, and <i>Adonais</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The travellers proceeded, <i>vi&acirc;</i> Lyons and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> Chamb&eacute;ry, to Milan, whence
+Shelley and Mary made an expedition to Como in search of a house. After
+looking at several,&mdash;one &#8220;beautifully situated, but too small,&#8221; another
+&#8220;out of repair, with an excellent garden, but full of serpents,&#8221; a third
+which seemed promising, but which they failed to get,&mdash;they appear to have
+given up the scheme altogether, and to have returned to Milan. For the
+next week they were in frequent correspondence with Byron on the subject
+of Allegra. This had to be carried on entirely by Shelley, as Byron
+refused all communication with Clare, and undertook to provide for his
+child on the sole condition that, from the day it left her, its mother
+entirely relinquished it, and never saw it again.</p>
+
+<p>This appeared to Shelley cruelly and needlessly harsh. His own paternal
+heart was still bleeding from fresh wounds, and although, as he again
+pointed out, his interest in the matter was entirely on the opposite side
+to Clare&#8217;s, he pleaded her cause with earnestness. He did not touch on the
+question of Byron&#8217;s attitude towards Clare herself, he contended only for
+the mother and child, in letters as remarkable for their simple good sense
+as for their perfect delicacy and courtesy of expression, and every line
+of which is inspired with the unselfish ardour of a heart full of love.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Clare herself was dreadfully unhappy. Any illusion she may ever have
+had about Byron<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> had long been over, but she had possibly not realised
+before coming to Italy the perfect horror he had of seeing her; an event,
+as he told his friends the Hoppners, which would make it necessary for him
+instantly to quit Venice. The reports about his present mode of life,
+which, even at Milan did not fail to reach them, were, to say the least,
+not encouraging; and from a later letter of Shelley&#8217;s it would seem that
+he warned Clare now, at the last minute, to pause and reflect before she
+sent Allegra away to such a father. She, however, was determined that till
+seven years old, at least, the child should be with one or other of its
+parents, and Byron would only consent to be that one on condition that it
+grew up in ignorance of its mother. It appears to have been assumed by all
+parties that, in refusing to hand Allegra altogether over to her father,
+they would be sacrificing for her the prospect of a brilliant position and
+fortune. Even supposing that this had been so, it is impossible to think
+that such a consideration would have weighed, at any rate with the
+Shelleys, but for the impossibility of keeping Clare&#8217;s secret if Allegra
+remained with them, and the constant danger of worse scandal to which her
+unexplained presence must expose them. Clare, distracted with grief as she
+was, yet dreaded discovery acutely, and firmly believed she was acting for
+Allegra&#8217;s best interests in parting from her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>It ended in the little girl&#8217;s being sent to Venice on the 28th of April in
+the care of Elise, the Swiss nurse, with whom Mary Shelley, for Allegra&#8217;s
+sake, consented to part, though she valued her very much, but who, not
+long afterwards, returned to her.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as they had gone, the Shelleys and Clare left Milan; and
+travelling leisurely through Parma, Modena, Bologna, and Pisa (where a
+letter from Elise reached them), they arrived on the 9th of May at
+Leghorn. Here they made the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. Gisborne. The
+lady, formerly Mrs. Reveley, had been an intimate friend of Mary
+Wollstonecraft&#8217;s (when Mary Godwin), and had been so warmly admired by
+Godwin before his first marriage as to arouse some jealousy in Mr.
+Reveley. Indeed, his admiration had been returned by so warm a feeling of
+friendship on her part that Godwin was frankly surprised when on his
+pressing her, shortly after her widowhood, to become his second wife, she
+refused him point blank, nor, by all his eloquence, was to be persuaded to
+change her mind. A beautiful girl, and highly accomplished, she had
+married very young, and had one son of her first marriage, Henry Reveley,
+a young civil engineer, who was now living in Italy with her and her
+second husband.</p>
+
+<p>This Mr. Gisborne struck Mary as being the reverse of intelligent, and is
+described in Shelley&#8217;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> letters in most uncomplimentary terms. His
+appearance cannot certainly have been in his favour, but that there must
+have been more in him than met the eye seems also beyond a doubt, as, at a
+later time, Shelley addressed to him some of his most interesting and most
+intimate letters.</p>
+
+<p>To Mrs. Gisborne they bore a letter of introduction from Godwin, and it
+was not long before her acquaintance with Mrs. Shelley ripened into
+friendship. &#8220;Reserved, yet with easy manners;&#8221; so Mary described her at
+their first meeting. On the next day the two had a long conversation about
+Mary&#8217;s father and mother. Of her mother, indeed, Mary learned more from
+Mrs. Gisborne than from any one else. She wrote her father an immediate
+account of these first interviews, and his answer is unusually
+demonstrative in expression.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">I received last Friday a delightful letter from you. I was extremely
+gratified by your account of Mrs. Gisborne. I have not seen her, I
+believe, these twenty years; I think not since she was Mrs. Gisborne;
+and yet by your description she is still a delightful woman. How
+inexpressibly pleasing it is to call back the recollection of years
+long past, and especially when the recollection belongs to a person in
+whom one deeply interested oneself, as I did in Mrs. Reveley. I can
+hardly hope for so great a pleasure as it would be to me to see her again.</p>
+
+<p>At the Bagni di Lucca, where they settled themselves for a time, Mary
+heard from her father of the review of <i>Frankenstein</i> in the <i>Quarterly</i>.
+Peacock had reported it to be unfavourable, so it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> was probably a relief
+to find that the reviewers &#8220;did not pretend to find anything blasphemous
+in the story.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">They say that the <i>gentleman</i> who has written the book is a <i>man of
+talents</i>, but that he employs his powers in a way disagreeable to them.</p>
+
+<p>All this, however, tended to keep Mary&#8217;s old ardour alive. She never was
+more strongly impelled to write than at this time; she felt her powers
+fresh and strong within her; all she wanted was some motive, some
+suggestion to guide her in the choice of a subject. While at Leghorn
+Shelley had come upon a manuscript account, which Mary transcribed, of
+that terrible story of the <i>Cenci</i> afterwards dramatised by himself. His
+first idea was that Mary should take it for the subject of a play. He was
+convinced that she had dramatic talent as a writer, and that he had none;
+two erroneous conclusions, as the sequel showed. But such an assurance
+from such a source could not but be flattering to Mary&#8217;s ambition, and
+stimulating to her innate love of literary work. During all the early part
+of their time in Italy their thoughts were busy with some subject for
+Mary&#8217;s tragedy. One proposed and strongly urged by Shelley was <i>Charles
+the First</i>. It was partially carried out by himself before his death, and
+perhaps occurred to him now in connection with a suggestion of Godwin&#8217;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>
+for a book very different in scope and character, and far better suited to
+Mary&#8217;s genius than the drama. It would have been a series of <i>Lives of the
+Commonwealth&#8217;s Men</i>; &#8220;our calumniated Republicans,&#8221; as Shelley calls them.</p>
+
+<p>She was immensely attracted by the idea, but was forced to abandon it at
+the time, for lack of the necessary books of reference. But Shelley, who
+believed her powers to be of the highest order, was as eager as she
+herself could be for her to undertake original work of some kind, and was
+constantly inciting her to effort in this direction.</p>
+
+<p>More than two months were spent at the Bagni di Lucca&mdash;reading, writing,
+riding, and enjoying to the full the balmy Italian skies. Shelley, in whom
+the creative mood was more or less dormant, and who &#8220;despaired of
+providing anything original,&#8221; translated the <i>Symposium</i> of Plato, partly
+as an exercise, partly to &#8220;give Mary some idea of the manners and feelings
+of the Athenians, so different on many subjects from that of any other
+community that ever existed.&#8221; Together they studied Italian, and Shelley
+reported Mary&#8217;s progress to her father.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Mary has just finished Ariosto with me, and indeed has attained a very
+competent knowledge of Italian. She is now reading Livy.</p>
+
+<p>She also transcribed his translation of the <i>Symposium</i>, and his Eclogue
+<i>Rosalind and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> Helen</i>, which, begun at Marlow, had been thrown aside till
+she found it and persuaded him to complete it.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Clare hungered and thirsted for a sight of Allegra, of whom she
+heard occasionally from Elise, and who was not now under Byron&#8217;s roof, but
+living, by his permission, with Mrs. Hoppner, wife of the British Consul
+at Venice, who had volunteered to take temporary charge of her. Her
+distress moved Shelley to so much commiseration that he resolved or
+consented to do what must have been supremely disagreeable to him. He went
+himself to Venice, hoping by a personal interview to modify in some degree
+Byron&#8217;s inexorable resolution. Clare accompanied him, unknown, of course,
+to Byron. They started on the 17th of August. On that day Mary wrote the
+following letter to Miss Gisborne&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Shelley to Mrs. Gisborne.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Bagni di Lucca</span>, <i>17th August 1818</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Madam</span>&mdash;It gave me great pleasure to receive your letter after
+so long a silence, when I had begun to conjecture a thousand reasons
+for it, and among others illness, in which I was half right. Indeed, I
+am much concerned to hear of Mr. R.&#8217;s attacks, and sincerely hope that
+nothing will retard his speedy recovery. His illness gives me a slight
+hope that you might now be induced to come to the baths, if it were
+even to try the effect of the hot baths. You would find the weather
+cool; for we already feel in this part of the world that the year is
+declining, by the cold mornings and evenings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> I have another selfish
+reason to wish that you would come, which I have a great mind not to
+mention, yet I will not omit it, as it might induce you. Shelley and
+Clare are gone; they went to-day to Venice on important business; and
+I am left to take care of the house. Now, if all of you, or any of
+you, would come and cheer my solitude, it would be exceedingly kind. I
+daresay you would find many of your friends here; among the rest there
+is the Signora Felichi, whom I believe you knew at Pisa. Shelley and I
+have ridden almost every evening. Clare did the same at first, but she
+has been unlucky, and once fell from her horse, and hurt her knee so
+as to knock her up for some time. It is the fashion here for all the
+English to ride, and it is very pleasant on these fine evenings, when
+we set out at sunset and are lighted home by Venus, Jupiter, and
+Diana, who kindly lend us their light after the sleepy Apollo is gone
+to bed. The road which we frequent is raised somewhat above, and
+overlooks the river, affording some very fine points of view amongst
+these woody mountains.</p>
+
+<p>Still, we know no one; we speak to one or two people at the Casino,
+and that is all; we live in our studious way, going on with Tasso,
+whom I like, but who, now I have read more than half his poem, I do
+not know that I like half so well as Ariosto. Shelley translated the
+<i>Symposium</i> in ten days. It is a most beautiful piece of writing. I
+think you will be delighted with it. It is true that in many
+particulars it shocks our present manners; but no one can be a reader
+of the works of antiquity unless they can transport themselves from
+these to other times, and judge, not by our, but their morality.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley is tolerably well in health; the hot weather has done him
+good. We have been in high debate&mdash;nor have we come to any
+conclusion&mdash;concerning the land or sea journey to Naples. We have been
+thinking that when we want to go, although the equinox will be past,
+yet the equinoctial winds will hardly have spent themselves; and I
+cannot express to you how I fear a storm at sea with two such young
+children as William and Clara. Do you know the periods when the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>
+Mediterranean is troubled, and when the wintry halcyon days come?
+However, it may be we shall see you before we proceed southward.</p>
+
+<p>We have been reading Eustace&#8217;s <i>Tour through Italy</i>; I do not wonder
+the Italians reprinted it. Among other select specimens of his way of
+thinking, he says that the Romans did not derive their arts and
+learning from the Greeks; that Italian ladies are chaste, and the
+lazzaroni honest and industrious; and that, as to assassination and
+highway robbery in Italy, it is all a calumny&mdash;no such things were
+ever heard of. Italy was the garden of Eden, and all the Italians
+Adams and Eves, until the blasts of hell (<i>i.e.</i> the French&mdash;for by
+that polite name he designates them) came. By the bye, an Italian
+servant stabbed an English one here&mdash;it was thought dangerously at
+first, but the man is doing better.</p>
+
+<p>I have scribbled a long letter, and I daresay you have long wished to
+be at the end of it. Well, now you are; so my dear Mrs. Gisborne, with
+best remembrances, yours, obliged and affectionately,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary W. Shelley</span>.</p></div>
+
+<p>From Florence, where he arrived on the 20th, Shelley wrote to Mary,
+telling her that Clare had changed her intention of going in person to
+Venice, and had decided on the more politic course of remaining herself at
+Fusina or Padua, while Shelley went on to see Byron.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;Well, my dearest Mary,&#8221; he went on, &#8220;are you very lonely? Tell me
+truth, my sweetest, do you ever cry? I shall hear from you once at
+Venice and once on my return here. If you love me, you will keep up
+your spirits; and at all events tell me truth about it, for I assure
+you I am not of a disposition to be flattered by your sorrow, though I
+should be by your cheerfulness, and above all by seeing such fruits of
+my absence as was produced when I was at Geneva.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was during Shelley&#8217;s absence with Byron on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> their voyage round the lake
+of Geneva that Mary had begun to write <i>Frankenstein</i>. But on the day when
+she received this letter she was very uneasy about her little girl, who
+was seriously unwell from the heat. On writing to Shelley she told him of
+this; and, from his answer, one may infer that she had suggested the
+advisability of taking the child to Venice for medical advice.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Padua, Mezzogiorno.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My best Mary</span>&mdash;I found at Mount Selica a favourable opportunity for
+going to Venice, when I shall try to make some arrangement for you and
+little Ca to come for some days, and shall meet you, if I do not write
+anything in the meantime, at Padua on Thursday morning. Clare says she
+is obliged to come to see the Medico, whom we missed this morning, and
+who has appointed as the only hour at which he can be at leisure, 8
+o&#8217;clock in the morning. You must, therefore, arrange matters so that
+you should come to the Stella d&#8217;Oro a little before that hour, a thing
+only to be accomplished by setting out at half-past 3 in the morning.
+You will by this means arrive at Venice very early in the day, and
+avoid the heat, which might be bad for the babe, and take the time
+when she would at least sleep great part of the time. Clare will
+return with the return carriage, and I shall meet you, or send to you,
+at Padua. Meanwhile, remember <i>Charles the First</i>, and do you be
+prepared to bring at least some of <i>Mirra</i> translated; bring the book
+also with you, and the sheets of <i>Prometheus Unbound</i>, which you will
+find numbered from 1 to 26 on the table of the Pavilion. My poor
+little Clara; how is she to-day? Indeed, I am somewhat uneasy about
+her; and though I feel secure there is no danger, it would be very
+comfortable to have some reasonable person&#8217;s opinion about her. The
+Medico at Padua is certainly a man in great practice; but I confess he
+does not satisfy me. Am I not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> like a wild swan, to be gone so
+suddenly? But, in fact, to set off alone to Venice required an
+exertion. I felt myself capable of making it, and I knew that you
+desired it.... Adieu, my dearest love. Remember, remember <i>Charles the
+First</i> and <i>Mirra</i>. I have been already imagining how you will conduct
+some scenes. The second volume of <i>St. Leon</i> begins with this proud
+and true sentiment&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is nothing which the human mind can conceive which it may not
+execute.&#8221; Shakespeare was only a human being. Adieu till
+Thursday.&mdash;Your ever affectionate,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">P. B. S.</p></div>
+
+<p>His next letter, however, announced yet another revolution in Clare&#8217;s
+plans. Her heart failed her at the idea of remaining to endure her
+suspense all alone in a strange place; and so, braving the possible
+consequences of Byron&#8217;s discovering her move before he was informed of it,
+she went on with Shelley to Venice, and, the morning after their arrival,
+proceeded to Mr. Hoppner&#8217;s house. Here she was kindly welcomed by him and
+his wife, a pretty Swiss woman, with a sympathetic motherly heart, who
+knew all about her and Allegra. They insisted, too, on Shelley&#8217;s staying
+with them, and he was nothing loth to accept the offer, for Byron&#8217;s circle
+would not have suited him at all.</p>
+
+<p>He was pleased with his hostess, something in whose appearance reminded
+him of Mary. &#8220;She has hazel eyes and sweet looks, rather Maryish,&#8221; he
+wrote. And in another letter he described her as</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>So good, so beautiful, so angelically mild that, were she wise too,
+she would be quite a Mary. But she is not very accomplished. Her eyes
+are like a reflection of yours; her manners are like yours when you know and like a person.</p>
+
+<p>He could enjoy no pleasure without longing for Mary to share it, and from
+the moment he reached Venice he was planning impatiently for her to follow
+him, to experience with him the strange emotions aroused by the first
+sight of the wonderful city, and to make acquaintance with his new
+friends.</p>
+
+<p>He lost no time in calling on Byron, who gave him a very friendly
+reception. Shelley&#8217;s intention on leaving Lucca was to go with his family
+to Florence, and the plan he urged on Byron was that Allegra should come
+to spend some time there with her mother. To this Byron objected, as
+likely to raise comment, and as a reopening of the whole question. He was,
+however, in an affable mood, and not indisposed to meet Shelley halfway.
+He had heard of Clare&#8217;s being at Padua, but nothing of her subsequent
+change of plan; and, assuming that the whole party were staying there, he
+offered to send Allegra as far as that, on a week&#8217;s visit. Finding that
+things were not as he supposed, and that Mrs. Shelley was likely to come
+presently to Venice, he proposed to lend them for some time a villa which
+he rented at Este, and to let Allegra stay with them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> The offer was
+promptly and gratefully accepted by Shelley. The fact of Clare&#8217;s presence
+in Venice had, perforce, to be kept dark; for that there was no help; the
+great thing was to get her and Allegra away as soon as possible. He sent
+directions to Mary to pack up at once and travel with the least possible
+delay to Este. There he would meet her with Clare, Allegra, and Elise, who
+were to be established, with Mary&#8217;s little ones, at Byron&#8217;s villa, Casa
+Cappucini, while she and he proceeded to Venice.</p>
+
+<p>When the letter came, Mary had the Gisbornes staying with her on a visit.
+For that reason, and on account of little Clara&#8217;s indisposition, the
+summons to depart so suddenly can hardly have been welcome; she obeyed it,
+however, and left the Bagni di Lucca on the 31st of August. Owing to
+delays about the passport, her journey took rather longer than they had
+expected. The intense heat of the weather, added to the fatigue of
+travelling and probably change of diet, seriously affected the poor baby,
+who, by the time they got to Este on 5th September, was dangerously ill.
+Shelley, who had been waiting for them impatiently, was also far from
+well, and their visit to Venice had to be deferred for more than a
+fortnight, during which Mary had time to hear enough of Venetian society
+to horrify and disgust her.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span><i>Journal, Saturday, September 5.</i>&mdash;Arrive at Este. Poor Clara is
+dangerously ill. Shelley is very unwell, from taking poison in Italian
+cakes. He writes his drama of <i>Prometheus</i>. Read seven cantos of
+Dante. Begin to translate <i>A Cajo Graccho</i> of Monti, and <i>Measure for
+Measure</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, September 16.</i>&mdash;Read the <i>Filippo</i> of Alfieri. Shelley and
+Clare go to Padua. He is very ill from the effects of his poison.</p></div>
+
+<p>To Mrs. Gisborne she wrote as follows&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><i>September 1818.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Gisborne</span>&mdash;I hasten to write to you to say that we have
+arrived safe, and yet I can hardly call it safe, since the fatigue has
+given my poor <i>Ca</i> an attack of dysentery; and although she is now
+somewhat recovered from that disorder, she is still in a frightful
+state of weakness and fever, and is reduced to be so thin in this
+short time that you would hardly know her again.</p>
+
+<p>The physician of Este is a stupid fellow; but there is one come from
+Padua, and who appears clever; so I hope under his care she will soon
+get well, although we are still in great anxiety concerning her. I
+found Mr. Shelley very anxious for our non-arrival, for, besides other
+delays, we were detained a whole day at Florence for a signature to
+our passport. The house at Este is exceedingly pleasant, with a large
+garden and quantities of excellent fruit. I have not yet been to
+Venice, and know not when I shall, since it depends upon the state of
+Clara&#8217;s health. I hope Mr. Reveley is quite recovered from his
+illness, and I am sure the baths did him a great deal of good. So now
+I suppose all your talk is how you will get to England. Shelley agrees
+with me that you could live very well for your &pound;200 per annum in
+Marlow or some such town; and I am sure you would be much happier than
+in Italy. How all the English dislike it! The Hoppners speak with the
+greatest acrimony of the Italians, and Mr. Hoppner says that he was
+actually driven from Italian society by the young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> men continually
+asking him for money. Everything is saleable in Venice, even the wives
+of the gentry, if you pay well. It appears indeed a most frightful
+system of society. Well! when shall we see you again? Soon, I daresay.
+I am so much hurried that you will be kind enough to excuse the
+abruptness of this letter. I will write soon again, and in the
+meantime write to me. Shelley and Clare desire the kindest
+remembrances.&mdash;My dear Mrs. Gisborne, affectionately yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary W. S.</span></p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Casa Capuccini, Este.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Send our letters to this direction.</span></p></div>
+
+<p>No more of the journal was written till the 24th, and in the meantime
+great trouble had fallen on the writers. Shelley was impatient for Clara
+to be within reach of better medical advice, and anxious to get Mary to
+Venice. He went forward himself on the 22d, returning next day as far as
+Padua to meet Mary and Clara, with Clare, who, however, only came over to
+Padua to see the Medico. The baby was very ill, and was getting worse
+every hour, but they judged it best to press on. In their hurry they had
+forgotten their passport, and had some difficulty in getting past the
+<i>dogana</i> in consequence. Shelley&#8217;s impetuosity carried all obstacles
+before it, and the soldiers on duty had to give way. On reaching Venice
+Mary went straight with her sick child to the inn, while Shelley hurried
+for the doctor. It was too late. When he got back (without the medical
+man) he found Mary well-nigh beside herself with distress. Another doctor
+had already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> been summoned, but little Clara was dying, and in an hour all
+was over.</p>
+
+<p>This blow reduced Mary to &#8220;a kind of despair&#8221;;&mdash;the expression is
+Shelley&#8217;s. Mr. Hoppner, on hearing what had happened, insisted on taking
+them away at once from the inn to his house. Four days she spent in Venice
+after that, the first of which was a blank; of the second she merely
+records&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">An idle day. Go to the Lido and see Alb&eacute; there.</p>
+
+<p>After that she roused herself. There was Shelley to be comforted and
+supported, there was Byron to be interviewed. One of her objects in coming
+had been to try and persuade him after all to let Allegra stay. So she
+nerved herself to pay this visit, and to go about and see something of
+Venice with Shelley.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Sunday, September 27.</i>&mdash;Read fourth canto of <i>Childe Harold</i>. It
+rains. Go to the Doge&#8217;s Palace, Ponte dei Sospiri, etc. Go to the
+Academy with Mr. and Mrs. Hoppner, and see some fine pictures. Call at
+Lord Byron&#8217;s and see the <i>Farmaretta</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, September 28.</i>&mdash;Go with Mrs. Hoppner and Cavaliere Mengaldo
+to the Library. Shopping. In the evening Lord Byron calls.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, September 29.</i>&mdash;Leave Venice, and arrive at Este at night.
+Clare is gone with the children to Padua.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, September 30.</i>&mdash;The chicks return. Transcribe <i>Mazeppa</i>.
+Go to the opera in the evening.</p></div>
+
+<p>A quiet, sad fortnight at Este followed. An idle one it was not, for
+Shelley not only wrote<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> <i>Julian and Maddalo</i>, but worked on portions of
+his drama of <i>Prometheus Unbound</i>, the idea of which had haunted him ever
+since he came to Italy. Clare, for the time, was happy with her child.
+Mary read several plays of Shakespeare and the lives of Alfieri and Tasso
+in Italian.</p>
+
+<p>On the 12th of October she arrived once more at Venice with Shelley. She
+passed the greater part of her time there with the Hoppners, who were
+exceedingly friendly. Shelley visited Byron several times, probably trying
+to get an extension of leave for Allegra. In this, however, he must have
+failed, as on the 24th he went to Este to fetch her, returning with her on
+the 29th. Having restored the poor little girl to the Hoppners&#8217; care, he
+and Mary went once more to Este, but this time only to prepare for
+departure. On the 5th of November the whole party, including Elise (who
+was not retained for Allegra&#8217;s service), left the Villa Capuccini and
+travelled by slow stages to Rome.</p>
+
+<p>No further allusion to her recent bereavement is to be found in Mary&#8217;s
+journal. She attempted to behave like the Stoic her father had wished her
+to be.<a name='fna_33' id='fna_33' href='#f_33'><small>[33]</small></a> She had written to him of her affliction, and received the
+following answer from the philosopher&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span><span class="smcap">Skinner Street</span>, <i>27th October 1818</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mary</span>&mdash;I sincerely sympathise with you in the affliction which
+forms the subject of your letter, and which I may consider as the
+first severe trial of your constancy and the firmness of your temper
+that has occurred to you in the course of your life; you should,
+however, recollect that it is only persons of a very ordinary sort,
+and of a pusillanimous disposition, that sink long under a calamity of
+this nature. I assure you such a recollection will be of great use to
+you. We seldom indulge long in depression and mourning except when we
+think secretly that there is something very refined in it, and that it
+does us honour.</p></div>
+
+<p>Such a homily, at such a time, must have made Mary feel like a person of a
+very ordinary sort indeed. But she strove, only too hard, to carry out her
+father&#8217;s principles; for, by doing violence to her sensitive nature, she
+might crush but could not kill it. The passionate impulses of her mother
+were curiously mated in her with her father&#8217;s reflective temperament; and
+the noble courage which she inherited from Mary Wollstonecraft went hand
+in hand with somewhat of Godwin&#8217;s constitutional shrinking from any
+manifestation of emotion. And the effect of determinate, excessive
+self-restraint on a heart like hers was to render the crushed feelings
+morbid in their acuteness, and to throw on her spirits a load of endurance
+which was borne, indeed, but at ruinous cost, and operated largely, among
+other causes, to make her seem cold when she was really suffering.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>At such times it was not altogether well for her that she was Shelley&#8217;s
+companion. For, when his health and spirits were good, he craved and
+demanded companionship,&mdash;personal, intellectual, playful,&mdash;companionship
+of all sorts; but when they ebbed, when his vitality was low, when the
+simultaneous exaltation of conception and labour of realisation&mdash;a
+tremendous expenditure of force&mdash;was over, and left him shattered, shaken,
+surprised at himself like one who in a dream falls from a height and
+awakens with the shock,&mdash;tired, and yet dull,&mdash;then the one panacea for
+him was animal spirits in some congenial acquaintance; whether a friend or
+a previous stranger mattered little, provided the personality was
+congenial and the spirits buoyant. Mary did her best, bravely and nobly.
+But the loss of a child was one thing to Shelley, another thing to her.
+She strove to overcome the low spirits from which she suffered. But
+endurance, though more heroic than spontaneous cheerfulness, is not to be
+compared with it in its benign effect on other people; nay, it may even
+have a depressing effect when a yielding to emotion &#8220;of the ordinary sort&#8221;
+may not. All these truths, however, do not become evident at once; like
+other life-experience they have to be spelled out by slow and painful
+degrees.</p>
+
+<p>To seek for respite from grief or care in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>intellectual culture and the
+acquisition of knowledge was instinctive and habitual both in Shelley and
+in Mary. They visited Ferrara and Bologna, then travelled by a winding
+road among the Apennines to Terni, where they saw the celebrated
+waterfall&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>It put me in mind of Sappho leaping from a rock, and her form
+vanishing as in the shape of a swan in the distance.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, November 20.</i>&mdash;We travel all day the Campagna di Roma&mdash;a
+perfect solitude, yet picturesque, and relieved by shady dells. We see
+an immense hawk sailing in the air for prey. Enter Rome. A rainy
+evening. Doganas and cheating innkeepers. We at length get settled in
+a comfortable hotel.</p></div>
+
+<p>After one week in Rome, during which they visited as many of the wonders
+of the Eternal City as the time allowed, they journeyed on to Naples,
+reading Montaigne by the way.</p>
+
+<p>At Naples they remained for three months. Of their life there Mary&#8217;s
+journal gives no account; she confines herself almost entirely to noting
+down the books they read, and one or two excursions. They lived in very
+great seclusion, greater than was good for them, but Shelley suffered much
+from ill-health, and not a little from its treatment by an unskilful
+physician. They read incessantly,&mdash;Livy, Dante, Sismondi, Winkelmann, the
+Georgics and Plutarch&#8217;s <i>Lives</i>, <i>Gil Blas</i>, and <i>Corinne</i>. They left no
+beautiful or interesting scene unvisited; they ascended <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>Vesuvius, and
+made excursions to Pompeii, Herculaneum, and Paestum.</p>
+
+<p>On the 8th of December Mary records&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Go on the sea with Shelley. Visit Capo Miseno, the Elysian Fields,
+Avernus, Solfatara. The Bay of Baiae is beautiful, but we are
+disappointed by the various places we visit.</p>
+
+<p>The impression of the scene, however, remained after the temporary
+disappointment had been forgotten, and she sketched it from memory many
+years later in the fanciful introduction to her romance of <i>The Last Man</i>,
+the story of which purports to be a tale deciphered from sibylline leaves,
+picked up in the caverns.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley, however, suffered from extreme depression, which, out of
+solicitous consideration for Mary, he disguised as much as possible under
+a mask of cheerfulness, insomuch that she never fully realised what he
+endured at this time until she read the mournful poems written at Naples,
+after he who wrote them had passed for ever out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>She blamed herself then for what seemed to her her blindness,&mdash;for having
+perhaps let slip opportunities of cheering him which she would have sold
+her soul to recall when it was too late. That <i>he</i>, at the time, felt in
+her no such want of sympathy or help is shown by his concluding words in
+the advertisement of <i>Rosalind and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> Helen</i>, and <i>Lines written among the
+Euganean Hills</i>, dated Naples, 20th December, where he says of certain
+lines &#8220;which image forth the sudden relief of a state of deep despondency
+by the radiant visions disclosed by the sudden burst of an Italian sunrise
+in autumn on the highest peak of those delightful mountains,&#8221; that, if
+they were not erased, it was &#8220;at the request of a dear friend, with whom
+added years of intercourse only add to my apprehension of its value, and
+who would have had more right than any one to complain that she has not
+been able to extinguish in me the very power of delineating sadness.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Much of this sadness was due to physical suffering, but external causes of
+anxiety and vexation were not wanting. One was the discovery of grave
+misconduct on the part of their Italian servant, Paolo. An engagement had
+been talked of between him and the Swiss nurse Elise, but the Shelleys,
+who thought highly of Elise and by no means highly of Paolo, tried to
+dissuade her from the idea. An illness of Elise&#8217;s revealed the fact that
+an illicit connection had been formed. The Shelleys, greatly distressed,
+took the view that it would not do to throw Elise on the world without in
+some degree binding Paolo to do his duty towards her, and they had them
+married. How far this step was well-judged may be a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> matter of opinion.
+Elise was already a mother when she entered the Shelleys service. Whether
+a woman already a mother was likely to do better for being bound for life
+to a man whom they &#8220;knew to be a rascal&#8221; may reasonably be doubted even by
+those who hold the marriage-tie, as such, in higher honour than the
+Shelleys did. But whether the action was mistaken or not, it was prompted
+by the sincerest solicitude for Elise&#8217;s welfare, a solicitude to be
+repaid, at no distant date, by the basest ingratitude. Meanwhile Mary lost
+her nurse, and, it may be assumed, a valuable one; for any one who studies
+the history of this and the preceding years must see all three of the poor
+doomed children throve as long as Elise was in charge of them.</p>
+
+<p>Clare was ailing, and anxious too; how could it be otherwise? Just before
+Allegra&#8217;s third birthday, Mary received a letter from Mrs. Hoppner which
+was anything but reassuring. It gave an unsatisfactory account of the
+child, who did not thrive in the climate of Venice, and a still more
+unsatisfactory account of Byron.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Il faut esp&eacute;rer qu&#8217;elle se changera pour son mieux quand il ne sera
+plus si froid; mais je crois toujours que c&#8217;est tr&egrave;s malheureux que
+Miss Clairmont oblige cette enfant de vivre &agrave; Venise, dont le climat
+est nuisible en tout au physique de la petite, et vra&icirc;ment, pour ce
+que fera son p&egrave;re, je le trouve un<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> peu triste d&#8217;y sacrifier l&#8217;enfant.
+My Lord continue de vivre dans une d&eacute;bauche affreuse qui t&ocirc;t ou tard
+le menera a s&agrave; ruine....</p>
+
+<p>Quant &agrave; moi, je voudrois faire tout ce qui est en mon pouvoir pour
+cette enfant, que je voudrois bien volontiers rendre aussi heureuse
+que possible le temps qu&#8217;elle restera avec nous; car je crains
+qu&#8217;apr&egrave;s elle devra toujours vivre avec des &eacute;trangers, indifferents &agrave;
+son sort. My Lord bien certainement ne la rendra jamais plus &agrave; sa
+m&egrave;re; ainsi il n&#8217;y a rien de bon &agrave; esp&eacute;rer pour cette ch&egrave;re petite.</p></div>
+
+<p>This letter, if she saw it, may well have made Clare curse the day when
+she let Allegra go.</p>
+
+<p>Still, after they returned to Rome at the beginning of March, a brighter
+time set in.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Friday, March 5.</i>&mdash;After passing over the beautiful hills of
+Albano, and traversing the Campagna, we arrive at the Holy City again,
+and see the Coliseum again.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">All that Athens ever brought forth wise,<br />
+All that Afric ever brought forth strange,<br />
+All that which Asia ever had of prize,<br />
+Was here to see. Oh, marvellous great change!<br />
+Rome living was the world&#8217;s sole ornament;<br />
+And dead, is now the world&#8217;s sole monument.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, March 7.</i>&mdash;Move to our lodgings. A rainy day. Visit the
+Coliseum. Read the Bible.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, March 8.</i>&mdash;Visit the Museum of the Vatican. Read the Bible.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, March 9.</i>&mdash;Shelley and I go to the Villa Borghese. Drive
+about Rome. Visit the Pantheon. Visit it again by moonlight, and see
+the yellow rays fall through the roof upon the floor of the temple.
+Visit the Coliseum.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span><i>Wednesday, March 10.</i>&mdash;Visit the Capitol,
+and see the most divine statues.</p></div>
+
+<p>Not one of the party but was revived and invigorated by the beauty and
+overpowering interest of the surrounding scenes, and the delight of a
+lovely Italian spring. To Shelley it was life itself.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;The charm of the Roman climate,&#8221; says Mrs. Shelley, &#8220;helped to clothe
+his thoughts in greater beauty than they had ever worn before. And as
+he wandered among the ruins, made one with nature in their decay, or
+gazed on the Praxitelean shapes that throng the Vatican, the Capitol,
+and the palaces of Rome, his soul imbibed forms of loveliness which
+became a portion of itself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The visionary drama of <i>Prometheus Unbound</i>, which had haunted, yet eluded
+him so long, suddenly took life and shape, and stood before him, a vivid
+reality. During his first month at Rome he completed it in its original
+three-act form. The fourth act was an afterthought, and was added at a
+later date.</p>
+
+<p>For a short, enchanted time&mdash;his health renewed, the deadening years
+forgotten, his susceptibilities sharpened, not paralysed, by recent
+grief&mdash;he gave himself up to the vision of the realisation of his
+life-dream; the disappearance of evil from the earth.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;He believed,&#8221; wrote Mary Shelley, &#8220;that mankind had only to will that
+there should be no evil, and there would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> none.... That man should
+be so perfectionised as to be able to expel evil from his own nature,
+and from the greater part of the creation was the cardinal point of
+his system. And the subject he loved best to dwell on, was the image
+of one warring with the Evil Principle, oppressed not only by it, but
+by all, even the good, who were deluded into considering evil a
+necessary portion of humanity. A victim full of fortitude and hope,
+and the spirit of triumph emanating from a reliance in the ultimate
+omnipotence of good.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This poem,&#8221; he himself says, &#8220;was chiefly written upon the
+mountainous ruins of the Baths of Caracalla, among the flowers,
+glades, and thickets of odoriferous blossoming trees, which are
+extended in ever winding labyrinths upon its immense platforms and
+dizzy arches suspended in the air. The bright blue sky of Rome, and
+the effect of the vigorous awakening of spring in that divinest
+climate, and the new life with which it drenches the spirits even to
+intoxication, were the inspiration of this drama.&#8221;<a name='fna_34' id='fna_34' href='#f_34'><small>[34]</small></a></p></div>
+
+<p>And while he wrought and wove the radiant web of his poem, Mary, excited
+to greatest enthusiasm by the treasures of sculpture at Rome, and infected
+by the atmosphere of art around her, took up again her favourite pursuit
+of drawing, which she had discontinued since going to Marlow, and worked
+at it many hours a day, sometimes all day. She was writing, too; a
+thoroughly congenial occupation, at once soothing and stimulating to her.
+She studied the Bible, with the keen fresh interest of one who comes new
+to it, and she read Livy and Montaigne.</p>
+
+<p>Little William was thriving, and growing more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> interesting every day. His
+beauty and promise and angelic sweetness made him the pet and darling of
+all who knew him, while to his parents he was a perpetual source of ever
+fresh and increasing delight. And his mother looked forward to the birth
+in autumn of another little one who might, in some measure, fill the place
+of her lost Clara.</p>
+
+<p>Clare, who, also, was in better health, was not behindhand in energy or
+industry. Music was her favourite pursuit; she took singing-lessons from a
+good master and worked hard.</p>
+
+<p>They led a somewhat less secluded life than at Naples, and at the house of
+Signora Dionizi, a Roman painter and authoress (described by Mary Shelley
+as &#8220;very old, very miserly, and very mean&#8221;), Mary and Clare, at any rate,
+saw a little of Italian society. For this, however, Shelley did not care,
+nor was he attracted by any of the few English with whom he came in
+contact. Yet he felt his solitude. In April, when the strain of his work
+was over, his spirits drooped, as usual; and he longed then for some
+<i>congenial distraction</i>, some human help to bear the burden of life till
+the moment of weakness should have passed. But the fount of inspiration,
+the source of temporary elation and strength, had not been exhausted by
+<i>Prometheus</i>.</p>
+
+<p>On the 22d of April Mary notes&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>Visit the Palazzo Corunna, and see the picture of Beatrice Cenci.</p>
+
+<p>The interest in the old idea was revived in him; he became engrossed in
+the subject, and soon after his &#8220;lyrical drama&#8221; was done, he transferred
+himself to this other, completely different work. There was no talk, now,
+of passing it on to Mary, and indeed she may well have recoiled from the
+unmitigated horrors of the tale. But, though he dealt with it himself,
+Shelley still felt on unfamiliar ground, and, as he proceeded, he
+submitted what he wrote to Mary for her judgment and criticism; the only
+occasion on which he consulted her about any work of his during its
+progress towards completion.</p>
+
+<p>Late in April they made the acquaintance of one English (or rather, Irish)
+lady, who will always be gratefully remembered in connection with the
+Shelleys.</p>
+
+<p>This was Miss Curran, a daughter of the late Irish orator, who had been a
+friend of Godwin&#8217;s, and to whose death Mary refers in one of her letters
+from Marlow.<a name='fna_35' id='fna_35' href='#f_35'><small>[35]</small></a></p>
+
+<p>Mary may, perhaps, have met her in Skinner Street; in any case, the old
+association was one link between them, and another was afforded by
+similarity in their present interests and occupations. Mary was very keen
+about her drawing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> and painting. Miss Curran had taste, and some skill,
+and was vigorously prosecuting her art-studies in Rome. Portrait painting
+was her especial line, and each of the Shelley party, at different times,
+sat to her; so that during the month of May they met almost daily, and
+became well acquainted.</p>
+
+<p>This new interest, together with the unwillingness to bring to an end a
+time at once so peaceful and so fruitful, caused them once and again to
+postpone their departure, originally fixed for the beginning of May. They
+stayed on longer than it is safe for English people to remain in Rome. Ah!
+why could no presentiment warn them of impending calamity? Could they,
+like the Scottish witch in the ballad, have seen the fatal winding-sheet
+creeping and clinging ever higher and higher round the wraith of their
+doomed child, they would have fled from the face of Death. But they had no
+such foreboding.</p>
+
+<p>Not a fortnight after his portrait had been taken by Miss Curran, William
+showed signs of illness. How it was that, knowing him to be so
+delicate,&mdash;having learned by bitterest experience the danger of southern
+heat to an English-born infant,&mdash;having, as early as April, suspected the
+Roman air of causing &#8220;weakness and depression, and even fever&#8221; to Shelley
+himself, how, after all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> this, they risked staying in Rome through May is
+hard to imagine.</p>
+
+<p>They were to pay for their delay with the best part of their lives.
+William sickened on the 25th, but had so far recovered by the 30th that
+his parents, though they saw they ought to leave Rome as soon as he was
+fit to travel, were in no immediate anxiety about him, and were making
+their summer plans quite in a leisurely way; Mary writing to ask Mrs.
+Gisborne to help them with some domestic arrangements, begging her to
+inquire about houses at Lucca or the Baths of Pisa, and to engage a
+servant for her.</p>
+
+<p>The journal for this and the following days runs&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Sunday, May 30.</i>&mdash;Read Livy, and <i>Persiles and Sigismunda</i>. Draw.
+Spend the evening at Miss Curran&#8217;s.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, May 31.</i>&mdash;Read Livy, and <i>Persiles and Sigismunda</i>. Draw.
+Walk in the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, June 1.</i>&mdash;Drawing lesson. Read Livy. Walk by the Tiber.
+Spend the evening with Miss Curran.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, June 2.</i>&mdash;See Mr. Vogel&#8217;s pictures. William becomes very
+ill in the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, June 3.</i>&mdash;William is very ill, but gets better towards the
+evening. Miss Curran calls.</p></div>
+
+<p>Mary took this opportunity of begging her friend to write for her to Mrs.
+Gisborne, telling her of the inevitable delay in their journey.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Rome</span>, <i>Thursday, 3d June 1819</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mrs. Gisborne</span>&mdash;Mary tells me to write for her, for she is very
+unwell, and also afflicted. Our poor little William<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> is at present
+very ill, and it will be impossible to quit Rome so soon as we
+intended. She begs you, therefore, to forward the letters here, and
+still to look for a servant for her, as she certainly intends coming
+to Pisa. She will write to you a day or two before we set out.</p>
+
+<p>William has a complaint of the stomach; but fortunately he is attended
+by Mr. Bell, who is reckoned even in London one of the first English
+surgeons.</p>
+
+<p>I know you will be glad to hear that both Mary and Mr. Shelley would
+be well in health were it not for the dreadful anxiety they now
+suffer.</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Emelia Curran.</span></p></div>
+
+<p>Two days after, Mary herself wrote a few lines to Mrs. Gisborne.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><i>5th June 1819.</i></p>
+
+<p>William is in the greatest danger. We do not quite despair, yet we
+have the least possible reason to hope.</p>
+
+<p>I will write as soon as any change takes place. The misery of these
+hours is beyond calculation. The hopes of my life are bound up in
+him.&mdash;Ever yours affectionately,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">M. W. S.</p>
+
+<p>I am well, and so is Shelley, although he is more exhausted by
+watching than I am. William is in a high fever.</p></div>
+
+<p>Sixty death-like hours did Shelley watch, without closing his eyes. Clare,
+her own troubles forgotten in this moment of mortal suspense, was a
+devoted nurse.</p>
+
+<p>As for Mary, her very life ebbed with William&#8217;s, but as yet she bore up.
+There was no real hope from the first moment of the attack, but the poor
+child made a hard struggle for life. Two more days and nights of anguish
+and terror and deadly sinking of heart,&mdash;and then, in the blank page<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>
+following <i>June 4</i>, the last date entered in the diary, are the words&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">The journal ends here.&mdash;P. B. S.</p>
+
+<p>On Monday, the 7th of June, at noonday, William died.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">June 1819-September 1820</span></p>
+
+<p>It was not fifteen months since they had all left England; Shelley and
+Mary with the sweet, blue-eyed &#8220;Willmouse,&#8221; and the pretty baby, Clara, so
+like her father; Clare and the &#8220;bluff, bright-eyed little Commodore,&#8221;
+Allegra; the Swiss nurse and English nursemaid; a large and lively party,
+in spite of cares and anxieties and sorrows to come. In one short,
+spiritless paragraph Mary, on the 4th of August, summed up such history as
+there was of the sad two months following on the blow which had left her
+childless.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Wednesday, August 4, 1819, Leghorn</i> (Mary).&mdash;I begin my
+journal on Shelley&#8217;s birthday. We have now lived five years together;
+and if all the events of the five years were blotted out, I might be
+happy; but to have won and then cruelly to have lost, the associations
+of four years, is not an accident to which the human mind can bend
+without much suffering.</p>
+
+<p>Since I left home I have read several books of Livy, <i>Clarissa
+Harlowe</i>, the <i>Spectator</i>, a few novels, and am now reading the Bible,
+and Lucan&#8217;s <i>Pharsalia</i>, and Dante. Shelley is to-day twenty-seven
+years of age. Write; read Lucan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> and the Bible. Shelley writes the
+<i>Cenci</i>, and reads Plutarch&#8217;s <i>Lives</i>. The Gisbornes call in the
+evening. Shelley reads <i>Paradise Lost</i> to me. Read two cantos of the
+<i>Purgatorio</i>.</p></div>
+
+<p>Three days after William&#8217;s death, Shelley, Mary, and Clare had left Rome
+for Leghorn. Once more they were alone together&mdash;how different now from
+the three heedless young things who, just five years before, had set out
+to walk through France with a donkey!</p>
+
+<p>Shelley, then, a creature of feelings and theories, full of unbalanced
+impulses, vague aspirations and undeveloped powers; inexperienced in
+everything but uncomprehended pain and the dim consciousness of
+half-realised mistakes. Mary, the fair, quiet, thoughtful girl, earnest
+and impassioned, calm and resolute, as ignorant of practical life as
+precocious in intellect; with all her mind worshipping the same high
+ideals as Shelley&#8217;s, and with all her heart worshipping him as the
+incarnation of them. Clare her very opposite; excitable and enthusiastic,
+demonstrative and capricious, clever, but silly; with a mind in which a
+smattering of speculative philosophy, picked up in Godwin&#8217;s house,
+contended for the mastery with such social wisdom as she had picked up in
+a boarding school. Both of them mere children in years. Now poor Clare was
+older without being much wiser, saddened yet not sobered; suffering
+bitterly from her ambiguous position, yet unable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> or unwilling to put an
+end to it; the worse by her one great error, which had brought her to dire
+grief; the better by one great affection&mdash;for her child,&mdash;the source of
+much sorrow, it is true, but also of truest joy of self-devotion, and the
+only instrument of such discipline that ever she had.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley had found what he wanted, the faithful heart which to his own
+afforded peace and stability and the balance which, then, he so much
+needed; a kindred mind, worthy of the best his had to give; knowing and
+expecting that best, too, and satisfied with nothing short of it. And his
+best had responded. In these few years he had realised powers the extent
+of which could not have been foretold, and which might, without that
+steady sympathy and support, have remained unfulfilled possibilities for
+ever. In spite of the far-reaching consequences of his errors, in spite of
+torturing memories, in spite of ill-health, anxiety, poverty, vexation,
+and strife, the Shelley of <i>Queen Mab</i> had become the Shelley of
+<i>Prometheus Unbound</i> and the <i>Cenci</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Of this development he himself was conscious enough. In so far as he was
+known to his contemporaries, it was only by his so-called atheistic
+opinions, and his departures theoretical and actual, from conventional
+social morality; and even these owed their notoriety, not to his genius,
+but to the fact that they were such strange vagaries in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> heir to a
+baronetcy. In his new life he had, indeed, known the deepest grief as well
+as the purest love, but those griefs which are memorial shrines of love
+did not paralyse him. They were rather among the influences which elicited
+the utmost possibilities of his nature; his lost children, as lovely
+ideals, were only half lost to him.</p>
+
+<p>But with Mary it was otherwise. Her occupation was gone. When after the
+death of her first poor little baby, she wrote: &#8220;Whenever I am left alone
+to my own thoughts, and do not read to divert them, they always come back
+to the same point&mdash;that I was a mother, and am so no longer;&#8221; a new sense
+was dawning in her which never had waned, and which, since William&#8217;s
+birth, had asserted itself as the key to her nature.</p>
+
+<p>She had known very little of the realities of life when she left her
+father&#8217;s house with Shelley, and he, her first reality, belonged in many
+ways more to the ideal than to the real world. But for her children, her
+association with him, while immeasurably expanding her mental powers,
+might have tended to develop these at the expense of her emotional nature,
+and to starve or to stifle her human sympathies. In her children she found
+the link which united her ideal love with the universal heart of mankind,
+and it was as a mother that she learned the sweet charities of human
+nature. This maternal love deepened her feelings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> towards her own father,
+it gave her sympathy with Clare and helped towards patience with her, it
+saved her from overmuch literary abstraction, and prevented her from
+pining when Shelley was buried in dreams or engrossed in work, and she
+loved these children with the unconscious passionate gratitude of a
+reserved nature towards anything that constrains from it the natural
+expression of that fund of tenderness and devotion so often hidden away
+under a perversely undemonstrative manner. Now, in one short year, all
+this was gone, and she sank under the blow of William&#8217;s loss. She could
+not even find comfort in the thought of the baby to be born in autumn,
+for, after the repeated rending asunder of beloved ties, she looked
+forward to new ones with fear and trembling, rather than with hope. The
+physical reaction after the strain of long suspense and watching had told
+seriously on her health, never strong at these times; the efforts she had
+made at Naples were no longer possible to her. Even Clare with all her
+misery was, in one sense, better off than she, for Allegra <i>lived</i>. She
+tried to rise above her affliction, but her care for everything was gone;
+the whole world seemed dull and indifferent. Poor Shelley, only too liable
+to depression at all times, and suffering bitterly himself from the loss
+of his beloved child, tried to keep up his spirits for Mary&#8217;s sake.</p>
+
+<p class="poem"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>
+Thou sittest on the hearth of pale Despair,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where,</span><br />
+For thine own sake, I cannot follow thee.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the effort he thus made for her sake had a bracing effect on
+himself, but the old Mary seemed gone,&mdash;lost,&mdash;and even he was powerless
+to bring her back; she could not follow him; any approach of seeming
+forgetfulness in others increased her depression and gloom.</p>
+
+<p>The letter to Miss Curran, which follows, was written within three weeks
+of William&#8217;s death.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Leghorn</span>, <i>27th June 1819</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Miss Curran</span>&mdash;I wrote to you twice on our journey, and again
+from this place, but I found the other day that Shelley had forgotten
+to send the letter; and I have been so unwell with a cold these last
+two or three days that I have not been able to write. We have taken an
+airy house here, in the vicinity of Leghorn, for three months, and we
+have not found it yet too hot. The country around us is pretty, so
+that I daresay we shall do very well. I am going to write another
+stupid letter to you, yet what can I do? I no sooner take up my pen
+than my thoughts run away with me, and I cannot guide it except about
+<i>one</i> subject, and that I must avoid. So I entreat you to join this to
+your many other kindnesses, and to excuse me. I have received the two
+letters forwarded from Rome. My father&#8217;s lawsuit is put off until
+July. It will never be terminated. I hear that you have quitted the
+pestilential air of Rome, and have gained a little health in the
+country. Pray let us hear from you, for both Shelley and I are very
+anxious&mdash;more than I can express&mdash;to know how you are. Let us hear
+also, if you please, anything you may have done about the tomb, near
+which I shall lie one day, and care not, for my own sake, how soon. I
+never shall recover that blow; I feel it more than at Rome; the
+thought never leaves me for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> single moment; everything on earth has
+lost its interest to me. You see I told you that I could only write to
+you on one subject; how can I, since, do all I can (and I endeavour
+very sincerely) I can think of no other, so I will leave off. Shelley
+is tolerably well, and desires his kindest remembrances.&mdash;Most
+affectionately yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary W. Shelley</span>.</p></div>
+
+<p>Their sympathetic friend, Leigh Hunt, grieved at the tone of her letters
+and at Shelley&#8217;s account of her, tried to convey to her a little kindly
+advice and encouragement.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">8 York Buildings, New Road.</span><br />
+<span style="padding-right: 4em;"><i>July 1819.</i></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mary</span>&mdash;I was just about to write to you, as you will see by my
+letter to Shelley, when I received yours. I need not say how it
+grieves me to see you so dispirited. Not that I wonder at it under
+such sufferings; but I know, at least I have often suspected, that you
+have a tendency, partly constitutional perhaps, and partly owing to
+the turn of your philosophy, to look over-intensely at the dark side
+of human things; and they must present double dreariness through such
+tears as you are now shedding. Pray consent to take care of your
+health, as the ground of comfort; and cultivate your laurels on the
+strength of it. I wish you would strike your pen into some more genial
+subject (more obviously so than your last), and bring up a fountain of
+gentle tears for us. That exquisite passage about the cottagers shows
+what you could do.<a name='fna_36' id='fna_36' href='#f_36'><small>[36]</small></a></p></div>
+
+<p>Mary received his counsels submissively, and would have carried them out
+if she could. But her nervous prostration was beyond her own power to cure
+or remove, and it was hard for others and impossible for herself to know
+how far her dejected state was due to mental and how far to physical causes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>Shelley was not, and dared not be, idle. He worked at his Tragedy and
+finished it; many of the Fragments, too, belong to this time. They are the
+speech of pain, but those who can teach in song what they learn in
+suffering have much, very much to be thankful for. Mary persisted in
+study; she even tried to write. But the spring of invention was low.</p>
+
+<p>She exerted herself to send to Mrs. Hunt an account of their present life
+and surroundings.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Leghorn</span>, <i>28th August 1819</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Marianne</span>&mdash;We are very dull at Leghorn, and I can therefore
+write nothing to amuse you. We live in a little country house at the
+end of a green lane, surrounded by a <i>podere</i>. These <i>poderi</i> are just
+the things Hunt would like. They are like our kitchen-gardens, with
+the difference only that the beautiful fertility of the country gives
+them. A large bed of cabbages is very unpicturesque in England, but
+here the furrows are alternated with rows of grapes festooned on their
+supporters, and the hedges are of myrtle, which have just ceased to
+flower; their flower has the sweetest faint smell in the world, like
+some delicious spice. Green grassy walks lead you through the vines.
+The people are always busy, and it is pleasant to see three or four of
+them transform in one day a bed of Indian corn to one of celery. They
+work this hot weather in their shirts, or smock-frocks (but their
+breasts are bare), their brown legs nearly the colour, only with a
+rich tinge of red in it, of the earth they turn up. They sing, not
+very melodiously, but very loud, Rossini&#8217;s music, &#8220;Mi rivedrai, ti
+rivedr&ograve;,&#8221; and they are accompanied by the <i>cicala</i>, a kind of little
+beetle, that makes a noise with its tail as loud as Johnny can sing;
+they live on trees; and three or four together are enough to deafen
+you. It is to the <i>cicala</i> that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> Anacreon has addressed an ode which
+they call &#8220;To a Grasshopper&#8221; in the English translations.</p>
+
+<p>Well, here we live. I never am in good spirits&mdash;often in very bad; and
+Hunt&#8217;s portrait has already seen me shed so many tears that, if it had
+his heart as well as his eyes, he would weep too in pity. But no more
+of this, or a tear will come now, and there is no use for that.</p>
+
+<p>By the bye, a hint Hunt gave about portraits. The Italian painters are
+very bad; they might make a nose like Shelley&#8217;s, and perhaps a mouth,
+but I doubt it; but there would be no expression about it. They have
+no notion of anything except copying again and again their Old
+Masters; and somehow mere copying, however divine the original, does a
+great deal more harm than good.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley has written a good deal, and I have done very little since I
+have been in Italy. I have had so much to see, and so many vexations,
+independently of those which God has kindly sent to wean me from the
+world if I were too fond of it. Shelley has not had good health by any
+means, and, when getting better, fate has ever contrived something to
+pull him back. He never was better than the last month of his stay in
+Rome, except the last week&mdash;then he watched sixty miserable death-like
+hours without closing his eyes; and you may think what good that did
+him.</p>
+
+<p>We see the <i>Examiners</i> regularly now, four together, just two months
+after the publication of the last. These are very delightful to us. I
+have a word to say to Hunt of what he says concerning Italian dancing.
+The Italians dance very badly. They dress for their dances in the
+ugliest manner; the men in little doublets, with a hat and feather;
+they are very stiff; nothing but their legs move; and they twirl and
+jump with as little grace as may be. It is not for their dancing, but
+their pantomime, that the Italians are famous. You remember what we
+told you of the ballet of <i>Othello</i>. They tell a story by action, so
+that words appear perfectly superfluous things for them. In that they
+are graceful, agile, impressive, and very affecting; so that I delight
+in nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> so much as a deep tragic ballet. But the dancing, unless,
+as they sometimes do, they dance as common people (for instance, the
+dance of joy of the Venetian citizens on the return of Othello), is
+very bad indeed.</p>
+
+<p>I am very much obliged to you for all your kind offers and wishes.
+Hunt would do Shelley a great deal of good, but that we may not think
+of; his spirits are tolerably good. But you do not tell me how you get
+on; how Bessy is, and where she is. Remember me to her. Clare is
+learning thorough bass and singing. We pay four crowns a month for her
+master, lessons three times a week; cheap work this, is it not? At
+Rome we paid three shillings a lesson and the master stayed two hours.
+The one we have now is the best in Leghorn.</p>
+
+<p>I write in the morning, read Latin till 2, when we dine; then I read
+some English book, and two cantos of Dante with Shelley. In the
+evening our friends the Gisbornes come, so we are not perfectly alone.
+I like Mrs. Gisborne very much indeed, but her husband is most
+dreadfully dull; and as he is always with her, we have not so much
+pleasure in her company as we otherwise should....</p></div>
+
+<p>The neighbourhood of Mrs. Gisborne, &#8220;charming from her frank and
+affectionate nature,&#8221; and full of intellectual sympathy with the Shelleys,
+was a boon indeed at this melancholy time. Through her Shelley was led to
+the study of Spanish, and the appearance on the scene of Charles
+Clairmont, who had just passed a year in Spain, was an additional stimulus
+in this direction. Together they read several of Calderon&#8217;s plays, from
+which Shelley derived the greatest delight, and which enabled him for a
+time to forget everyday life and its troubles. Another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> diversion to his
+thoughts was the scheme of a steamboat which should ply between Leghorn
+and Marseilles, to be constructed by Henry Reveley, mainly at Shelley&#8217;s
+expense. He was elated at promoting a project which he conceived to be of
+great public usefulness and importance, and happy at being able to do a
+friend a good turn. He followed every stage of the steamer&#8217;s construction
+with keen interest, and was much disappointed when the idea was given up,
+as, after some months, it was; not, however, until much time, labour, and
+money had been expended on it.</p>
+
+<p>Mary, though she endeavoured to fill the blanks in her existence by
+assiduous reading, could not escape care. Clare was in perpetual thirst
+for news of her Allegra, and Godwin spared them none of his usual
+complaints. He, too, was much concerned at the depressed tone of Mary&#8217;s
+letters, which seemed to him quite disproportionate to the occasion, and
+thought it his duty to convince her, by reasoning, that she was not so
+unhappy as she thought herself to be.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Skinner Street</span>, <i>9th September 1819</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mary</span>&mdash;Your letter of 19th August is very grievous to me,
+inasmuch as you represent me as increasing the degree of your
+uneasiness and depression.</p>
+
+<p>You must, however, allow me the privilege of a father and a
+philosopher in expostulating with you on this depression. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> cannot
+but consider it as lowering your character in a memorable degree, and
+putting you quite among the commonalty and mob of your sex, when I had
+thought I saw in you symptoms entitling you to be ranked among those
+noble spirits that do honour to our nature. What a falling off is
+here! How bitterly is so inglorious a change to be deplored!</p>
+
+<p>What is it you want that you have not? You have the husband of your
+choice, to whom you seem to be unalterably attached, a man of high
+intellectual attainments, whatever I and some other persons may think
+of his morality, and the defects under this last head, if they be not
+(as you seem to think) imaginary, at least do not operate as towards
+you. You have all the goods of fortune, all the means of being useful
+to others, and shining in your proper sphere. But you have lost a
+child: and all the rest of the world, all that is beautiful, and all
+that has a claim upon your kindness, is nothing, because a child of
+two years old is dead.</p>
+
+<p>The human species may be divided into two great classes: those who
+lean on others for support, and those who are qualified to support. Of
+these last, some have one, some five, and some ten talents. Some can
+support a husband, a child, a small but respectable circle of friends
+and dependents, and some can support a world, contributing by their
+energies to advance their whole species one or more degrees in the
+scale of perfectibility. The former class sit with their arms crossed,
+a prey to apathy and languor, of no use to any earthly creature, and
+ready to fall from their stools if some kind soul, who might
+compassionate, but who cannot respect them, did not come from moment
+to moment and endeavour to set them up again. You were formed by
+nature to belong to the best of these classes, but you seem to be
+shrinking away, and voluntarily enrolling yourself among the worst.</p>
+
+<p>Above all things, I entreat you, do not put the miserable delusion on
+yourself, to think there is something fine, and beautiful, and
+delicate, in giving yourself up, and agreeing to be nothing. Remember
+too, though at first your nearest connections may pity you in this
+state, yet that when they see you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> fixed in selfishness and ill
+humour, and regardless of the happiness of every one else, they will
+finally cease to love you, and scarcely learn to endure you.</p>
+
+<p>The other parts of your letter afford me much satisfaction. Depend
+upon it, there is no maxim more true or more important than this;
+Frankness of communication takes off bitterness. True philosophy
+invites all communication, and withholds none.</p></div>
+
+<p>Such a letter tended rather to check frankness of communication than to
+bind up a broken heart. Poor Mary&#8217;s feelings appear in her letter to Miss
+Curran, with whom she was in correspondence about a monumental stone for
+the tomb in Rome.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The most pressing entreaties on my part, as well as Clare&#8217;s, cannot
+draw a single line from Venice. It is now six months since we have
+heard, even in an indirect manner, from there. God knows what has
+happened, or what has not! I suppose Shelley must go to see what has
+become of the little thing; yet how or when I know not, for he has
+never recovered from his fatigue at Rome, and continually frightens me
+by the approaches of a dysentery. Besides, we must remove. My lying-in
+and winter are coming on, so we are wound up in an inextricable
+dilemma. This is very hard upon us; and I have no consolation in any
+quarter, for my misfortune has not altered the tone of my Father&#8217;s
+letters, so that I gain care every day. And can you wonder that my
+spirits suffer terribly? that time is a weight to me? And I see no end
+to this. Well, to talk of something more interesting, Shelley has
+finished his tragedy, and it is sent to London to be presented to the
+managers. It is still a <i>deep secret</i>, and only one person, Peacock
+(who presents it), knows anything about it in England. With Shelley&#8217;s
+public and private enemies, it would certainly fall if known to be
+his; his sister-in-law alone would hire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> enough people to damn it. It
+is written with great care, and we are in hopes that its story is
+sufficiently polished not to shock the audience. We shall see.
+Continue to direct to us at Leghorn, for if we should be gone, they
+will be faithfully forwarded to us. And when you return to Rome just
+have the kindness to inquire if there should be any stray letter for
+us at the post-office. I hope the country air will do you real good.
+You must take care of yourself. Remember that one day you will return
+to England, and that you may be happier there.&mdash;Affectionately yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">M. W. S.</p></div>
+
+<p>At the end of September they removed to Florence, where they had engaged
+pleasant lodgings for six months. The time of Mary&#8217;s confinement was now
+approaching, an event, in Shelley&#8217;s words, &#8220;more likely than any other to
+retrieve her from some part of her present melancholy depression.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They travelled by short, easy stages; stopping for a day at Pisa to pay a
+visit to a lady with whom from this time their intercourse was frequent
+and familiar. This was Lady Mountcashel, who had, when a young girl, been
+Mary Wollstonecraft&#8217;s pupil, and between whom and her teacher so warm an
+attachment had existed as to arouse the jealousy and dislike of her
+mother, Lady Kingsborough. She had long since been separated from Lord
+Mountcashel, and lived in Italy with a Mr. Tighe and their two daughters,
+Laura and Nerina. As Lady Mountcashel she had entertained Godwin at her
+house during his visit to Ireland after his first wife&#8217;s death. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> is
+described by him as a remarkable person, &#8220;a republican and a democrat in
+all their sternness, yet with no ordinary portion either of understanding
+or good nature.&#8221; In dress and appearance she was somewhat singular, and
+had that disregard for public opinion on such matters which is habitually
+implied in the much abused term &#8220;strong-minded.&#8221; In this respect she had
+now considerably toned down. Her views on the relations of the sexes were
+those of William Godwin, and she had put them into practice. But she and
+the gentleman with whom she lived in permanent, though irregular, union
+had succeeded in constraining, by their otherwise exemplary life, the
+general respect and esteem. They were known as &#8220;Mr. and Mrs. Mason,&#8221; and
+had so far lived down criticism that their actual position had come to be
+ignored or forgotten by those around them. Mr. Tighe, or &#8220;Tatty,&#8221; as he
+was familiarly called by his few intimates, was of a retiring disposition,
+a lover of books and of solitude. Mrs. Mason was as remarkable for her
+strong practical common sense as for her talents and cultivation and the
+liberality of her views. She had a considerable knowledge of the world,
+and was looked up to as a model of good breeding, and an oracle on matters
+of deportment and propriety.</p>
+
+<p>She had kept up correspondence with Godwin,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> and her acquaintance with the
+Shelleys was half made before she saw them. She conceived an immediate
+affection for Mary, as well for her own as for her mother&#8217;s sake, and was
+to prove a constant and valuable friend, not to her only, but to Shelley,
+and most especially to Clare.</p>
+
+<p>After a week in Florence, Mary&#8217;s journal was resumed.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Saturday, October 9.</i>&mdash;Arrive at Florence. Read Massinger. Shelley
+begins Clarendon; reads Massinger, and Plato&#8217;s <i>Republic</i>. Clare has
+her first singing lesson on Saturday. Go to the opera and see a
+beautiful ballet</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, October 11.</i>&mdash;Read Horace; work. Go to the Gallery. Shelley
+finishes the first volume of Clarendon. Read the <i>Little Thief</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, October 20.</i>&mdash;Finish the First Book of Horace&#8217;s Odes.
+Work, walk, read, etc. On Saturday letters are sent to England. On
+Tuesday one to Venice. Shelley visits the Galleries. Reads Spenser and
+Clarendon aloud.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, October 28.</i>&mdash;Work; read; copy <i>Peter Bell</i>. Monday night a
+great fright with Charles Clairmont. Shelley reads Clarendon aloud and
+<i>Plato&#8217;s Republic</i>. Walk. On Thursday the protest from the Bankers.
+Shelley writes to them, and to Peacock, Longdill, and H. Smith.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, November 9.</i>&mdash;Read Madame de Sevign&eacute;. Bad news from London.
+Shelley reads Clarendon aloud, and Plato. He writes to Papa.</p></div>
+
+<p>On the 12th of November a son was born to the Shelleys, and brought the
+first true balm of consolation to his poor mother&#8217;s heart.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;You may imagine,&#8221; wrote Shelley to Leigh Hunt, &#8220;that this is a great
+relief and a great comfort to me amongst all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> my misfortunes.... Poor
+Mary begins (for the first time) to look a little consoled; for we
+have spent, as you may imagine, a miserable five months.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The child was healthy and pretty, and very like William. Neither Mary&#8217;s
+strength nor her spirits were altogether re-established for some time, but
+the birth of &#8220;Percy Florence&#8221; was, none the less, the beginning of a new
+life for her. She turned, with the renewed energy of hope, to her literary
+work and studies. One of her first tasks was to transcribe the just
+written fourth act of <i>Prometheus Unbound</i>. She had work of her own on
+hand too; a historical novel, <i>Castruccio, Prince of Lucca</i> (afterwards
+published as <i>Valperga</i>), a laborious but very congenial task, which
+occupied her for many months.</p>
+
+<p>And indeed all the solace of new and tender ties, all the animating
+interest of intellectual pursuits, was sorely needed to counteract the
+wearing effect of harassing cares and threatening calamities. Godwin was
+now being pressed for the accumulated unpaid house-rent of many years; so
+many that, when the call came, it was unexpected by him, and he challenged
+its justice. He had engaged in a law-suit on the matter, which he
+eventually lost. The only point which appeared to admit of no reasonable
+doubt was that Shelley would shortly be called upon to find a large sum of
+money for him, and this at a time when he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> himself in unexpected
+pecuniary straits, owing to the non-arrival of his own remittances from
+England&mdash;a circumstance rendered doubly vexatious by the fact that a large
+portion of the money was pledged to Henry Reveley for the furtherance of
+his steamboat. A draft for &pound;200, destined for this purpose, was returned,
+protested by Shelley&#8217;s bankers. And though the money was ultimately
+recovered, its temporary loss caused no small alarm. Meanwhile every mail
+brought letters from Godwin of the most harrowing nature; the philosophy
+which he inculcated in a case of bereavement was null and void where
+impending bankruptcy was concerned. He well knew how to work on his
+daughter&#8217;s feelings, and he did not spare her. Poor Shelley was at his
+wits&#8217; end.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;Mary is well,&#8221; he wrote (in December) to the Gisbornes; &#8220;but for this
+affair in London I think her spirits would be good. What shall I, what
+can I, what ought I to do? You cannot picture to yourself my perplexity.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It appeared not unlikely that he might even have to go to England, a
+journey for which his present state of health quite unfitted him, and
+which he could not but be conscious would be no permanent remedy, but only
+a temporary alleviation, of Godwin&#8217;s thoroughly unsound circumstances.
+Mary, in her grief for her father, began to think that the best thing for
+him might be to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> leave England altogether and settle abroad; an idea from
+which Mrs. Mason, with her strong sagacity, earnestly dissuaded her.</p>
+
+<p>Her views on the point were expressed in a letter to Shelley Mary had
+written asking her if she could give Charles Clairmont any introductions
+at Vienna, where he had now gone to seek his fortune as a teacher of
+languages; and also begging for such assistance as she might be able to
+lend in the matter of obtaining access to historical documents or other
+MS. bearing on the subjects of Mary&#8217;s projected novel.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Mason to Shelley.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>&mdash;I deferred answering your letter till this post in hopes
+of being able to send some recommendations for your friend at Vienna,
+in which I have been disappointed; and I have now also a letter from
+my dear Mary; so I will answer both together. It gives me great
+pleasure to hear such a good account of the little boy and his
+mother.... I am sorry to perceive that your visit to Pisa will be so
+much retarded; but I admire Mary&#8217;s courage and industry. I sincerely
+regret that it is not in my power to be of service to her in this
+undertaking.... All I can say is, that when you have got all you can
+there (where I suppose the manuscript documents are chiefly to be
+found) and that you come to this place, I have scarcely any doubt of
+being able to obtain for you many books on the subject which interests
+you. Probably everything in print which relates to it is as easy to be
+had here as at Florence.... I am very sorry indeed to think that Mr.
+Godwin&#8217;s affairs are in such a bad way, and think he would be much
+happier if he had nothing to do with trade; but I am afraid he would
+not be comfortable out of England.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> You who are young do not mind the
+thousand little wants that men of his age are not habituated to; and
+I, who have been so many years a vagabond on the face of the earth,
+have long since forgotten them; but I have seen people of my age much
+discomposed at the absence of long-accustomed trifles; and though
+philosophy supports in great matters, it seldom vanquishes the small
+everydayisms of life. I say this that Mary may not urge her father too
+much to leave England. It may sound odd, but I can&#8217;t help thinking
+that Mrs. Godwin would enjoy a tour in foreign countries more than he
+would. The physical inferiority of women sometimes teaches them to
+support or overlook little inconveniences better than men.</p>
+
+<p><br />&#8220;I am very sorry,&#8221; she writes to Mary in another letter, &#8220;to find you
+still suffer from low spirits. I was in hopes the little boy would
+have been the best remedy for that. Words of consolation are but empty
+sounds, for to time alone it belongs to wear out the tears of
+affliction. However, a woman who gives milk should make every exertion
+to be cheerful on account of the child she nourishes.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>Whether the plan for Godwin&#8217;s expatriation was ever seriously proposed to
+him or not, it was, at any rate, never carried out. But none the less for
+this did the Shelleys live in the shadow of his gloom, which co-operated
+with their own pecuniary strait, previously alluded to, and with the
+nipping effects of an unwontedly severe winter, to make life still
+difficult and dreary for them.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;Shelley Calderonised on the late weather,&#8221; wrote Mary to Mrs.
+Gisborne; &#8220;he called it an epic of rain with an episode of frost, and
+a few similes concerning fine weather. We have heard from England,
+although not from the Bankers; but Peacock&#8217;s letter renders the affair
+darker than ever. Ah! my dear friend, you, in your slow and sure way
+of proceeding,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> ought hardly to have united yourself to our eccentric
+star. I am afraid that you will repent it, and it grieves us both more
+than you can imagine that all should have gone so ill; but I think we
+may rest assured that this is delay, and not loss; it can be nothing
+else. I write in haste&mdash;a carriage at the door to take me out, and
+<i>Percy</i> asleep on my knee. Adieu. Charles is at Vienna by this time.&#8221;...</p>
+
+<p>They had intended remaining six months at Florence, but the place suited
+Shelley so ill that they took advantage of the first favourable change in
+the weather, at the end of January, to remove to Pisa, where the climate
+was milder, and where they now had pleasant friends in the Masons at &#8220;Casa
+Silva.&#8221; They wished, too, to consult the celebrated Italian surgeon,
+Vacc&agrave;, on the subject of Shelley&#8217;s health. Vacc&agrave;&#8217;s advice took the shape
+of an earnest exhortation to him to abstain from drugs and remedies, to
+live a healthy life, and to leave his complaint, as far as possible, to
+nature. And, though he continued liable to attacks of pain and illness,
+and on one occasion had a severe nervous attack, the climate of Pisa
+proved in the end more suitable to him than any other, and for more than
+two years he remained there or in the immediate neighbourhood. He and Mary
+were never more industrious than at this time; reading extensively, and
+working together on a translation of Spinoza they had begun at Florence,
+and which occupied them, at intervals, for many months. Little Percy, a
+most healthy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> and satisfactory infant, had in March an attack of measles,
+but so slight as to cause no anxiety. Once, however, during the summer
+they had a fright about him, when an unusually alarming letter from her
+father upset Mary so much as to cause in her nursling, through her,
+symptoms of an illness similar to that which had destroyed little Clara.
+On this occasion she authorised Shelley, at his earnest request, to
+intercept future letters of the kind, an authority of which he had to
+avail himself at no distant date, telling Godwin that his domestic peace,
+Mary&#8217;s health and happiness, and his child&#8217;s life, could no longer be
+entirely at his mercy.</p>
+
+<p>No wonder that his own nervous ailments kept their hold of him. And to
+make matters better for him and for Mary, Paolo, the rascally Italian
+servant whom they had dismissed at Naples, now concocted a plot for
+extorting money from Shelley by accusing him of frightful crimes. Legal
+aid had to be called in to silence him. To this end they employed an
+attorney of Leghorn, named Del Rosso, and, for convenience of
+communication, they occupied for a few weeks Casa Ricci, the Gisbornes&#8217;
+house there, the owners being absent in England. Shelley made Henry
+Reveley&#8217;s workshop his study. Hence he addressed his poetical &#8220;Letter to
+Maria Gisborne,&#8221; and here too it was that &#8220;on a beautiful summer evening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>
+while wandering among the lanes, whose myrtle hedges were the bowers of
+the fireflies (they) heard the carolling of the skylark, which inspired
+one of the most beautiful of his poems.&#8221;<a name='fna_37' id='fna_37' href='#f_37'><small>[37]</small></a></p>
+
+<p>If external surroundings could have made them happy they might have been
+so now, but Shelley, though in better health, was very nervous. Paolo&#8217;s
+scandal and the legal affair embittered his life, to an extent difficult
+indeed to estimate, for it is certain that for some one else&#8217;s sake,
+though <i>whose</i> sake has never transpired, he had accepted when at Naples
+responsibilities at once delicate and compromising. Paolo had knowledge of
+the matter, and used this knowledge partly to revenge himself on Shelley
+for dismissing him from his service, partly to try and extort money from
+him by intimidation. The Shelleys hoped they had &#8220;crushed him&#8221; with Del
+Rosso&#8217;s help, but they could not be certain, because, as Mary wrote to
+Miss Curran, they &#8220;could only guess at his accomplices.&#8221; With Shelley in a
+state of extreme nervous irritability, with Mary deprived of repose by her
+anguish on her father&#8217;s account and her feverish anxiety to help him, with
+Clare unsettled and miserable about Allegra, venting her misery by writing
+to Byron letters unreasonable and provoking, though excusable, and then
+regretting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> having sent them, they were not likely to be the most cheerful
+or harmonious of trios.</p>
+
+<p>The weather became intolerably hot by the end of August, and they migrated
+to Casa Prinni, at the Baths of S. Giuliano di Pisa. The beauty of this
+place, and the delightful climate, refreshed and invigorated them all.
+They spent two or three days in seeing Lucca and the country around, when
+Shelley wrote the <i>Witch of Atlas</i>. Exquisite poem as it is, it was, in
+Mary&#8217;s mood of the moment, a disappointment to her. Ever since the <i>Cenci</i>
+she had been strongly impressed with the conviction that if he could but
+write on subjects of universal <i>human</i> interest, instead of indulging in
+those airy creations of fancy which demand in the reader a sympathetic,
+but rare, quality of imagination, he would put himself more in touch with
+his contemporaries, who so greatly misunderstood him, and that, once he
+had elicited a responsive feeling in other men, this would be a source of
+profound happiness and of fresh and healthy inspiration to himself. &#8220;I
+still think I was right,&#8221; she says, woman-like, in the <i>Notes to the Poems
+of 1820</i>, written long after Shelley&#8217;s death. So from one point of view
+she undoubtedly was, but there are some things which cannot be
+constrained. Shelley was Shelley, and at the moment when he was moved to
+write a poem like the <i>Witch of Atlas</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> it was useless to wish that it
+had been something quite different.</p>
+
+<p>His next poem was to be inspired by a human subject, and perhaps then poor
+Mary would have preferred a second Witch of Atlas.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">September 1820-August 1821</span></p>
+
+<p>The baths were of great use to Shelley in allaying his nervous
+irritability. Such an improvement in him could not be without a
+corresponding beneficial effect on Mary. In the study of Greek, which she
+had begun with him at Leghorn, she found a new and wellnigh inexhaustible
+fund of intellectual pleasure. Their life, though very quiet, was somewhat
+more varied than it had been at Leghorn, partly owing to their being
+within easy reach of Pisa and of their friends at Casa Silva.</p>
+
+<p>The Gisbornes had returned from England, and, during a short absence of
+Clare&#8217;s, Mary tried, but ineffectually, to persuade Mrs. Gisborne to come
+and occupy her room for a time. Some circumstance had arisen which led
+shortly after to a misunderstanding between the two families, soon over,
+but painful while it lasted. It was probably connected with the
+abandonment of the projected steamboat; Henry Reveley, while in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> England,
+having changed his mind and reconsidered his future plans.</p>
+
+<p>In October a curiously wet season set in.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Wednesday, October 18.</i>&mdash;Rain till 1 o&#8217;clock. At sunset the
+arch of cloud over the west clears away; a few black islands float in
+the serene; the moon rises; the clouds spot the sky, but the depth of
+heaven is clear. The nights are uncommonly warm. Write. Shelley reads
+<i>Hyperion</i> aloud. Read Greek.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">My thoughts arise and fade in solitude;<br />
+The verse that would invest them melts away<br />
+Like moonlight in the heaven of spreading day.<br />
+How beautiful they were, how firm they stood,<br />
+Flecking the starry sky like woven pearl.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, October 20.</i>&mdash;Shelley goes to Florence. Write. Read Greek.
+Wind N.W., but more cloudy than yesterday, yet sometimes the sun
+shines out; the wind high. Read Villani.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, October 21.</i>&mdash;Rain in the night and morning; very cloudy;
+not an air stirring; the leaves of the trees quite still. After a
+showery morning it clears up somewhat, and the sun shines. Read
+Villani, and ride to Pisa.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, October 22.</i>&mdash;Rainy night and rainy morning; as bad weather
+as is possible in Italy. A little patience and we shall have St.
+Martin&#8217;s summer. At sunset the arch of clear sky appears where it
+sets, becoming larger and larger, until at 7 o&#8217;clock the dark clouds
+are alone over Monte Nero; Venus shines bright in the clear azure, and
+the trunks of the trees are tinged with the silvery light of the
+rising moon. Write, and read Villani. Shelley returns with Medwin.
+Read <i>Sismondi</i>.</p></div>
+
+<p>Of Tom Medwin, Shelley&#8217;s cousin and great admirer, who now for the first
+time appeared on the scene, they were to see, if anything, more than they
+wished.</p>
+
+<p>He was a lieutenant on half-pay, late of the 8th<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> Dragoons; much addicted
+to literature, and with no mean opinion of his own powers in that line.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Tuesday, October 24.</i>&mdash;Rainy night and morning; it does not
+rain in the afternoon. Shelley and Medwin go to Pisa. Walk; write.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, October 25.</i>&mdash;Rain all night. The banks of the Serchio
+break, and by dark all the baths are overflowed. Water four feet deep
+in our house. &#8220;The weather fine.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>This flood brought their stay at the Baths to a sudden end. As soon as
+they could get lodgings they returned to Pisa. Here, not long after,
+Medwin fell ill, and was six weeks invalided in their house. They showed
+him the greatest kindness; Shelley nursing him like a brother. His society
+was, for a time, a tolerably pleasant change; he knew Spanish, and read
+with Shelley a great deal in that language, but he had no depth or breadth
+of mind, and his literary vanity and egotism made him at last what Mary
+Shelley described as a <i>seccatura</i>, for which the nearest English
+equivalent is, a bore.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Sunday, November 12.</i>&mdash;Percy&#8217;s birthday. A divine day; sunny
+and cloudless; somewhat cold in the evening. It would be pleasant
+enough living in Pisa if one had a carriage and could escape from
+one&#8217;s house to the country without mingling with the inhabitants, but
+the Pisans and the Scolari, in short, the whole population, are such
+that it would sound strange to an English person if I attempted to
+express what I feel concerning them&mdash;crawling and crab-like through
+their sapping streets. Read <i>Corinne</i>. Write.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, November 13.</i>&mdash;Finish <i>Corinne</i>. Write. My eyes keep me from
+all study; this is very provoking.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span><i>Tuesday, November 14.</i>&mdash;Write. Read Homer, Targione, and Spanish. A
+rainy day. Shelley reads Calderon.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, November 23.</i>&mdash;Write. Read Greek and Spanish. Medwin ill.
+Play at chess.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, November 24.</i>&mdash;Read Greek, Villani, and Spanish with M....
+Pacchiani in the evening. A rainy and cloudy day.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, December 1.</i>&mdash;Read Greek, <i>Don Quixote</i>, Calderon, and
+Villani. Pacchiani comes in the evening. Visit La Viviani. Walk.
+Sgricci is introduced. Go to a <i>funzione</i> on the death of a student.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, December 2.</i>&mdash;Write an Italian letter to Hunt. Read
+<i>&OElig;dipus</i>, <i>Don Quixote</i>, and Calderon. Pacchiani and a Greek prince
+call&mdash;Prince Mavrocordato.</p></div>
+
+<p>In these few entries occur four new and remarkable names. Pacchiani, who
+had been, if he was not still, a university professor, but who was none
+the less an adventurer and an impostor; in orders, moreover, which only
+served as a cloak for his hypocrisy; clever withal, and eloquent; well
+knowing where, and how, to ingratiate himself. He amused, but did not
+please the Shelleys. He was, however, one of those people who know
+everybody, and through him they made several acquaintances; among them the
+celebrated Improvisatore, Sgricci, and the young Greek statesman and
+patriot, Prince Alexander Mavrocordato. With the improvisations of
+Sgricci, his eloquence, his <i>entrain</i>, both Mary and Clare were fairly
+carried away with excitement. Older, experienced folk looked with a more
+critical eye on his performances, but to these English girls the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>
+exhibition was an absolute novelty, and seemed inspired. Sgricci was
+during this winter a frequent visitor at &#8220;Casa Galetti.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Prince Mavrocordato proved deeply interesting, both to Mary and Shelley.
+He &#8220;was warmed by those aspirations for the independence of his country
+which filled the hearts of many of his countrymen,&#8221; and in the revolution
+which, shortly afterwards, broke out there, he was to play an important
+part, as one of the foremost of modern Greek statesmen. To him, at a
+somewhat later date, was dedicated Shelley&#8217;s lyrical drama of <i>Hellas</i>;
+&#8220;as an imperfect token of admiration, sympathy, and friendship.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This new acquaintance came to Mary just when her interest in the Greek
+language and literature was most keen. Before long the prince had
+volunteered to help her in her studies, and came often to give her Greek
+lessons, receiving instruction in English in return.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;Do you not envy my luck,&#8221; she wrote to Mrs. Gisborne, &#8220;that having
+begun Greek, an amiable, young, agreeable, and learned Greek prince
+comes every morning to give me a lesson of an hour and a half. This is
+the result of an acquaintance with Pacchiani. So you see, even the
+Devil has his use.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>The acquaintance with Pacchiani had already had another and a yet more
+memorable result, which affected Mary none the less that it did so
+indirectly. Through him they had come to know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> Emilia Viviani, the noble
+and beautiful Italian girl, immured by her father in a convent at Pisa
+until such time as a husband could be found for her who would take a wife
+without a dowry. Shelley&#8217;s acquaintance with Emilia was an episode, which
+at one time looked like an era, in his existence. An era in his poetry it
+undoubtedly was, since it is to her that the <i>Epipsychidion</i> is addressed.</p>
+
+<p>Mary and Clare were the first to see the lovely captive, and were struck
+with astonishment and admiration. But on Shelley the impression she made
+was overwhelming, and took possession of his whole nature. Her
+extraordinary beauty and grace, her powers of mind and conversation,
+warmed by that glow of genius so exclusively southern, another variety of
+which had captivated them all in Sgricci, and which to northern minds
+seems something phenomenal and inspired,&mdash;these were enough to subdue any
+man, and, when added to the halo of interest shed around her by her
+misfortunes and her misery, made her, to Shelley, irresistible.</p>
+
+<p>All his sentiments, when aroused, were passions; he pitied, he
+sympathised, he admired and venerated passionately; he scorned, hated, and
+condemned passionately too. But he never was swayed by any love that did
+not excite his imagination: his attachments were ever in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>proportion to
+the power of idealisation evoked in him by their objects. And never,
+surely, was there a subject for idealisation like Emilia; the Spirit of
+Intellectual Beauty in the form of a goddess; the captive maiden waiting
+for her Deliverer; the perfect embodiment of immortal Truth and
+Loveliness, held in chains by the powers of cruelty, tyranny, and
+hypocrisy.</p>
+
+<p>She was no goddess, poor Emilia, as indeed he soon found out; only a
+lovely young creature of vivid intelligence and a temperament in which
+Italian ardour was mingled with Italian subtlety; every germ of sentiment
+magnified and intensified in outward effect by fervour of manner and
+natural eloquence; the very reverse of human nature in the north, where
+depth of feeling is apt to be in proportion to its inveterate dislike of
+discovery, where warmth can rarely shake off self-consciousness, and where
+many of the best men and women are so much afraid of seeming a whit better
+than they really are, that they take pains to appear worse. Rightly
+balanced, the whole sum of Emilia&#8217;s gifts and graces would have weighed
+little against Mary&#8217;s nobleness of heart and unselfish devotion; her
+talents might not even have borne serious comparison with Clare&#8217;s
+vivacious intellect. But to Shelley, haunted by a vision of perfection,
+and ever apt to recognise in a mortal image &#8220;the likeness of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> that which
+is, perhaps, eternal,&#8221;<a name='fna_38' id='fna_38' href='#f_38'><small>[38]</small></a> she seemed a revelation, and, like all
+revelations, supreme, unique, superseding for the time every other
+possibility. It was a brief madness, a trance of inspiration, and its
+duration was counted only by days. They met for the first time early in
+December. By the 10th she was corresponding with him as her <i>diletto
+fratello</i>. Before the month was over <i>Epipsychidion</i> had been written.</p>
+
+<p>Before the middle of January he could write of her&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>My conception of Emilia&#8217;s talents augments every day. Her moral nature
+is fine, but not above circumstances; yet I think her tender and true,
+which is always something. How many are only one of these things at a
+time!...</p>
+
+<p>There is no reason that you should fear any admixture of that which
+you call <i>love</i>....</p></div>
+
+<p>This was written to Clare. She had very quickly become intimate and
+confidential with Emilia, and estimated her to a nicety at her real worth,
+admiring her without idealising her or caring to do so. She knew Shelley
+pretty intimately too, and, being personally unconcerned in the matter,
+could afford at once to be sympathetic and to speak her mind fearlessly;
+the consequence being that Shelley was unconstrained in communication with
+her.</p>
+
+<p>That <i>Mary</i> should be his most sympathetic confidant at this juncture was
+not in the nature<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> of things. She, too, had begun by idealising Emilia,
+but her affection and enthusiastic admiration were soon outdone and might
+well have been quenched by Shelley&#8217;s rapt devotion. She did not
+misunderstand him, she knew him too well for that, but the better she
+understood him the less it was possible for her to feel with him; nor
+could it have been otherwise unless she had been really as cold as she
+sometimes appeared. Loyal herself, she never doubted Shelley&#8217;s loyalty,
+but she suffered, though she did not choose to show it: her love, like a
+woman&#8217;s,&mdash;perhaps even more than most women&#8217;s&mdash;was exclusive; Shelley&#8217;s,
+like a man&#8217;s,&mdash;like many of the best of men&#8217;s,&mdash;inclusive.</p>
+
+<p>She did not allow her feelings to interfere with her actions. She
+continued to show all possible sympathy and kindness to Emilia, who in
+return would style her her dearest, loveliest friend and sister. No
+wonder, however, if at times Mary could not quite overcome a slight
+constraint of manner, or if this was increased when her dearest sister,
+with sweet unconsciousness, would openly probe the wound her pride would
+fain have hidden from herself; when Emilia, for instance, wrote to
+Shelley&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Mary does not write to me. Is it possible that she loves me less than
+the others do? I should indeed be inconsolable at that.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>Or to be informed in a letter to herself that this constraint of manner
+had been talked over by Emilia with Shelley, who had assured her that
+Mary&#8217;s apparent coldness was only &#8220;the ash which covered an affectionate
+heart.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He was right, indeed, and his words were the faithful echo of his own true
+heart. He might have added, of himself, that his transient enthusiasms
+resembled the soaring blaze of sparks struck by a hammer from a glowing
+mass of molten metal.</p>
+
+<p>But, in everyday prose, the situation was a trying one for Mary, and
+surely no wife of two and twenty could have met it more bravely and simply
+than she did.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;It is grievous,&#8221; she wrote to Leigh Hunt, &#8220;to see this beautiful girl
+wearing out the best years of her life in an odious convent, where
+both mind and body are sick from want of the appropriate exercise for
+each. I think she has great talent, if not genius; or if not an
+internal fountain, how could she have acquired the mastery she has of
+her own language, which she writes so beautifully, or those ideas
+which lift her so far above the rest of the Italians? She has not
+studied much, and now, hopeless from a five years&#8217; confinement,
+everything disgusts her, and she looks with hatred and distaste even
+on the alleviations of her situation. Her only hope is in a marriage
+which her parents tell her is concluded, although she has never seen
+the person intended for her. Nor do I think the change of situation
+will be much for the better, for he is a younger brother, and will
+live in the house with his mother, who they say is <i>molto seccante</i>.
+Yet she may then have the free use of her limbs; she may then be able
+to walk out among the fields,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> vineyards, and woods of her country,
+and see the mountains and the sky, and not as now, a dozen steps to
+the right, and then back to the left another dozen, which is the
+longest walk her convent garden affords, and that, you may be sure,
+she is very seldom tempted to take.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>By the middle of February Shelley was sending his poem for publication,
+speaking of it as the production of &#8220;a part of himself already dead.&#8221; He
+continued, however, to take an almost painful interest in Emilia&#8217;s fate;
+she, poor girl, though not the sublime creature he had thought her, was
+infinitely to be pitied. Before their acquaintance ended, she was turning
+it to practical account, after the fashion of most of Shelley&#8217;s friends,
+by begging for and obtaining considerable sums of money.</p>
+
+<p>If Mary then indulged in a little retrospective sarcasm to her friend,
+Mrs. Gisborne, it is hardly wonderful. Indeed, later allusions are not
+wanting to show that this time was felt by her to be one of annoyance and
+bitterness.</p>
+
+<p>Two circumstances were in her favour. She was well, and, therefore,
+physically able to look at things in their true light; and, during a great
+part of the time, Clare was away. In the previous October, during their
+stay at the Baths, she had at last resolved on trying to make out some
+sort of life for herself, and had taken a situation as governess in a
+Florentine family. She had come back to the Shelleys for the month of
+December<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> (when it was that she became acquainted with Emilia Vivani), but
+had returned to Florence at Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>She had been persuaded to this step by the judicious Mrs. Mason, who had
+soon perceived the strained relations existing between Mary and Clare, and
+had seen, too, that the disunion was only the natural and inevitable
+result of circumstances. It was not only that the two girls were of
+opposite and jarring temperament; there was also the fact that half the
+suspicious mistrust with Shelley was regarded by those who did not
+personally know him, and the shadow of which rested on Mary too, was
+caused by Clare&#8217;s continued presence among them. As things were now, it
+might have passed without remark, but for the scandalous reports which
+dated back to the Marlow days, and which had recently been revived by the
+slanders of Paolo, although the extent of these slanders had not yet
+transpired. Shelley had been alive enough to the danger at one time, but
+had now got accustomed and indifferent to it. He had a great affection and
+a great compassion for Clare; her vivacity enlivened him; he said himself
+that he liked her although she teased him, and he certainly missed her
+teasing when she was away. But Mary, to whom Clare&#8217;s perpetual society was
+neither a solace nor a change, and who, as the mother of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> children, could
+no longer look at things from a purely egotistic point of view, must have
+felt it positively unjust and wrong to allow their father&#8217;s reputation to
+be sacrificed&mdash;to say nothing of her own&mdash;to what was in no wise a
+necessity. Shelley loved solitude&mdash;a mitigated solitude that is;&mdash;he
+certainly did not pine for general society. Yet many of his letters bear
+unmistakable evidence to the pain and resentment he felt at being
+universally shunned by his own countrymen, as if he were an enemy of the
+human race. But Mary, a woman, and only twenty-two, must have been
+self-sufficient indeed if, with all her mental resources, she had not
+required the renovation of change and contrast and varied intercourse, to
+keep her mind and spirit fresh and bright, and to fit her for being a
+companion and a resource to Shelley. That she and he were condemned to
+protracted isolation was partly due to Clare, and when Mary was weak and
+dejected, her consciousness of this became painful, and her feeling
+towards the sprightly, restless Miss Clairmont was touched with positive
+antipathy. Shelley, considering Clare the weaker party, supported her, in
+the main, and certainly showed no desire to have her away. He might have
+seen that to impose her presence on Mary in such circumstances was, in
+fact, as great a piece of tyranny as he had suffered from when Eliza<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>
+Westbrook was imposed on him. But of this he was, and he remained,
+perfectly unconscious. Clare ought to have retired from the field, but her
+dependent condition, and her wretched anxiety about Allegra, were her
+excuse for clinging to the only friends she had.</p>
+
+<p>All this was evident to Mrs. Mason, and it was soon shown that she had
+judged rightly, as the relations between Mary and Clare became cordial and
+natural once they were relieved from the intolerable friction of daily
+companionship.</p>
+
+<p>During this time of excitement and unrest one new acquaintance had,
+however, begun, which circumstances were to develop into a close and
+intimate companionship.</p>
+
+<p>In January there had arrived at Pisa a young couple of the name of
+Williams; mainly attracted by the desire to see and to know Shelley, of
+whose gifts and virtues and sufferings they had heard much from Tom
+Medwin, their neighbour in Switzerland the year before. Lieutenant Edward
+Elliker Williams had been, first, in the Navy, then in the Army; had met
+his wife in India, and, returning with her to England, had sold his
+commission and retired on half-pay. He was young, of a frank
+straightforward disposition and most amiable temper, modest and
+unpretentious, with some literary taste, and no strong prejudices. Jane
+Williams was young and pretty, gentle and graceful, neither<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> very
+cultivated nor particularly clever, but with a comfortable absence of
+angles in her disposition, and an abundance of that feminine tact which
+prevents intellectual shortcomings from being painfully felt, and which
+is, in its way, a manifestation of genius. Not an uncommon type of woman,
+but quite new in the Shelleys&#8217; experience. At first they thought her
+rather wanting in animation, and Shelley was conscious of her lack of
+literary refinement, but these were more and more compensated for, as time
+went on, by her natural grace and her taste for music. &#8220;Ned&#8221; was something
+of an artist, and Mary Shelley sat more than once to him for her portrait.
+There was, in short, no lack of subjects in common, and the two young
+couples found a mutual pleasure in each other&#8217;s society which increased in
+measure as they became better acquainted.</p>
+
+<p>In March poor Clare received with bitter grief the intelligence that her
+child had been placed by Byron in a convent, at Bagnacavallo, not far from
+Ravenna, where he now lived. Under the sway of the Countess Guiccioli,
+whose father and brother were domesticated in his house, he was leading
+what, in comparison with his Venetian existence, was a life of
+respectability and virtue. His action with regard to Allegra was
+considered by the Shelleys as, probably, inevitable in the circumstances,
+but to Clare it was a terrible blow. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> felt more hopelessly separated
+from her child than ever, and she had seen enough of Italian convent
+education and its results to convince her that it meant moral and
+intellectual degradation and death. Her despairing representations to this
+effect were, of course, unanswered by Byron, who contented himself with a
+Mephistophelian sneer in showing her letter to the Hoppners.</p>
+
+<p>With the true &#8220;malignity of those who turn sweet food into poison,
+transforming all they touch to the malignity of their own natures,&#8221;<a name='fna_39' id='fna_39' href='#f_39'><small>[39]</small></a> he
+had no hesitation in giving credit to the reports about Clare&#8217;s life in
+the Shelleys&#8217; family, nor in openly implying his own belief in their
+probable truth.</p>
+
+<p>But for this, and for one great alarm caused by the sudden and
+unaccountable stoppage of Shelley&#8217;s income (through a mistake which
+happily was discovered and speedily rectified by his good friend, Horace
+Smith), the spring was, for Mary, peaceful and bright. She was assiduous
+in her Greek studies, and keenly interested in the contemporary European
+politics of that stirring time; as full of sympathy as Shelley himself
+could be with the numerous insurrectionary outbreaks in favour of liberty.
+And when the revolution in Greece broke out, and one bright April morning
+Prince Mavrocordato rushed in to announce to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> the proclamation of
+Prince Hypsilantes, her elation and joy almost equalled his own.</p>
+
+<p>In companionship with the Williams&#8217;, aided and abetted by Henry Reveley,
+Shelley&#8217;s old passion for boating revived. In the little ten-foot long
+boat procured for him for a few pauls, and then fitted up by Mr. Reveley,
+they performed many a voyage, on the Arno, on the canal between Pisa and
+Leghorn, and even on the sea. Their first trip was marked by an
+accident&mdash;Williams contriving to overturn the boat. Nothing daunted,
+Shelley declared next day that his ducking had added fire to, instead of
+quenching, the nautical ardour which produced it, and that he considered
+it a good omen to any enterprise that it began in evil, as making it more
+likely that it would end in good.</p>
+
+<p>All these events are touched on in the few specimen extracts from Mary&#8217;s
+journal and letters which follow&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Wednesday, January 31.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Call on Emilia Viviani. Shelley
+reads the <i>Vita Nuova</i> aloud to me in the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, February 2.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Write. Emilia Viviani walks out
+with Shelley. The Opera, with the Williams&#8217; (<i>Il Matrimonio Segreto</i>).</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, February 6.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Sit to Williams. Call on Emilia
+Viviani. Prince Mavrocordato in the evening. A long metaphysical
+argument.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, February 7.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Sit to Williams. In the evening
+the Williams&#8217;, Prince Mavrocordato, and Mr. Taafe.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span><i>Monday, February 12.</i>&mdash;Read Greek (no lesson). Finish the <i>Vita
+Nuova</i>. In the afternoon call on Emilia Viviani. Walk. Mr. Taafe
+calls.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, February 27.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. The Williams to dine with us.
+Walk with them. Il Diavolo Pacchiani calls. Shelley reads &#8220;The Ancient
+Mariner&#8221; aloud.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, March 4.</i>&mdash;Read Greek (no lesson). Walk with the Williams&#8217;.
+Read Horace with Shelley in the evening. A delightful day.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, March 5.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Write letters. The Williams&#8217; to dine
+with us. Walk with them. Williams relates his history. They spend the
+evening with us, with Prince Mavrocordato and Mr. Taafe.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, March 8.</i>&mdash;Read Greek (no lesson). Call on Emilia Viviani.
+E. Williams calls. Shelley reads <i>The Case is Altered</i> of Ben Jonson
+aloud in the evening. A mizzling day and rainy night.... March winds
+and rains are begun, the last puff of winter&#8217;s breath,&mdash;the eldest
+tears of a coming spring; she ever comes in weeping and goes out
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, March 12.</i>&mdash;Read Greek (no lesson). Finish the <i>Defence of
+Poetry</i>. Copy for Shelley; he reads to me the <i>Tale of a Tub</i>. A
+delightful day after a misty morning.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, March 14.</i>&mdash;Read Greek (no lesson). Copy for Shelley. Walk
+with Williams. Prince Mavrocordato in the evening. I have an
+interesting conversation with him concerning Greece. The second
+bulletin of the Austrians published. A sirocco, but a pleasant
+evening,</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, March 16.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Copy for Shelley. Walk with Williams.
+Mrs. Williams confined. News of the Revolution of Piedmont, and the
+taking of the citadel of Candia by the Greeks. A beautiful day, but
+not hot.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, March 18.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Copy for Shelley. A sirocco and
+mizzle. Bad news from Naples. Walk with Williams. Prince Mavrocordato
+in the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, March 26.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato. Finish the
+<i>Antigone</i>. A mizzling day. Spend the evening at the Williams&#8217;.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span><i>Wednesday, March 28.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato. Call on Emilia
+Viviani. Walk with Williams. Mr. Taafe in the evening. A fine day,
+though changeful as to clouds and wind. The State of Massa declares
+the Constitution. The Piedmontese troops are at Sarzana.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, April 1.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato calls with news
+about Greece. He is as gay as a caged eagle just free. Call on Emilia
+Viviani. Walk with Williams; he spends the evening with us.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, April 2.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato calls with the
+proclamation of Ipsilanti. Write to him. Ride with Shelley into the
+Cascini. A divine day, with a north-west wind. The theatre in the
+evening. Tachinardi.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, April 11.</i>&mdash;Read Greek, and <i>Osservatore Fiorentino</i>. A
+letter that overturns us.<a name='fna_40' id='fna_40' href='#f_40'><small>[40]</small></a> Walk with Shelley. In the evening
+Williams and Alex. Mavrocordato.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, April 13.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato calls.
+<i>Osservatore Fiorentino</i>. Walk with the Williams&#8217;. Shelley at Casa
+Silva in the evening. An explanation of our difficulty.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, April 16.</i>&mdash;Write. Targioni. Read Greek. Mrs. Williams to
+dinner. In the evening Mr. Taafe. A wet morning: in the afternoon a
+fierce maestrale. Shelley, Williams, and Henry Reveley try to come up
+the canal to Pisa; miss their way, are capsized, and sleep at a
+contadino&#8217;s.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, April 24.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato. Hume. Villani.
+Walk with the Williams&#8217;. Alex. M. calls in the evening, with good news
+from Greece. The Morea free.</p></div>
+
+<p>They now migrated once more to the beautiful neighbourhood of the Baths of
+San Giuliano di Pisa; the Williams&#8217; established themselves at Pugnano,
+only four miles off: the canal fed by the Serchio ran between the two
+places, and the little boat was in constant requisition.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="poem"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>
+Our boat is asleep on Serchio&#8217;s stream,<br />
+Its sails are folded like thoughts in a dream,<br />
+The helm sways idly, hither and thither;<br />
+Dominic, the boatman, has brought the mast,<br />
+And the oars, and the sails; but &#8217;tis sleeping fast,<br />
+Like a beast, unconscious of its tether.<a name='fna_41' id='fna_41' href='#f_41'><small>[41]</small></a></p>
+
+<p>The canal which, fed by the Serchio, was, though an artificial, a full
+and picturesque stream, making its way under verdant banks, sheltered
+by trees that dipped their boughs into the murmuring waters. By day,
+multitudes of ephemera darted to and fro on the surface; at night, the
+fireflies came out among the shrubs on the banks; the <i>cicale</i>, at
+noonday, kept up their hum; the aziola cooed in the quiet evening. It
+was a pleasant summer, bright in all but Shelley&#8217;s health and
+inconstant spirits; yet he enjoyed himself greatly, and became more
+and more attached to the part of the country where chance appeared to
+cast us. Sometimes he projected taking a farm, situated on the height
+of one of the near hills, surrounded by chestnut and pine woods and
+overlooking a wide extent of country; or of settling still further in
+the maritime Apennines, at Massa. Several of his slighter and
+unfinished poems were inspired by these scenes, and by the companions
+around us. It is the nature of that poetry, however, which overflows
+from the soul, oftener to express sorrow and regret than joy; for it
+is when oppressed by the weight of life and away from those he loves,
+that the poet has recourse to the solace of expression in verse.<a name='fna_42' id='fna_42' href='#f_42'><small>[42]</small></a></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><i>Journal, Thursday, May 3.</i>&mdash;Read Villani. Go out in boat; call on
+Emilia Viviani. Walk with Shelley. In the evening Alex. Mavrocordato,
+Henry Reveley, Dancelli, and Mr. Taafe.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, May 4.</i>&mdash;Read Greek. (Alex. M.) Read Villani. Shelley goes to
+Leghorn by sea with Henry Reveley.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span><i>Tuesday, May 8.</i>&mdash;Packing. Read Greek (Alex. Mavrocordato). Shelley
+goes to Leghorn. In the evening walk with Alex. M. to Pugnano. See the
+Williams; return to the Baths. Shelley and Henry Reveley come. The
+weather quite April; rain and sunshine, and by no means warm.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, June 23.</i>&mdash;Abominably cold weather&mdash;rain, wind, and
+cloud&mdash;quite an Italian November or a Scotch May. Shelley and Williams
+go to Leghorn. Write. Read and finish Malthus. Begin the answer.<a name='fna_43' id='fna_43' href='#f_43'><small>[43]</small></a>
+Jane (Williams) spends the day here, and Edward returns in the
+evening. Read Greek.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, June 24.</i>&mdash;Write. Read the <i>Answer to Malthus</i>. Finish it.
+Shelley at Leghorn.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, June 25.</i>&mdash;Little babe not well. Shelley returns. The
+Williams call. Read old plays. Vacc&agrave; calls.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, June 26.</i>&mdash;Babe well. Write. Read Greek. Shelley not well.
+Mr. Taafe and Granger dine with us. Walk with Shelley. Vacc&agrave; calls.
+Alex. Mavrocordato sails.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, June 28.</i>&mdash;Write. Read Greek. Read Mackenzie&#8217;s works. Go to
+Pugnano in the boat. The warmest day this month. Fireflies in the
+evening.</p></div>
+
+<p>They were near enough to Pisa to go over there from time to time to see
+Emilia and other friends, and for Prince Mavrocordato to come frequently
+and give them the latest political news: the Greek lessons had been
+voluntarily abjured by Mary when it seemed probable that the Prince might
+be summoned at any moment to play an active part in the affairs of his
+country, as actually happened in June. Shelley was still tormented by the
+pain in his side, but his health and spirits were insensibly improving, as
+he himself <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>afterwards admitted. He was occupied in writing <i>Hellas</i>; his
+elegy on Keats&#8217;s death, <i>Adonais</i> also belongs to this time. Ned Williams,
+infected by the surrounding atmosphere of literature, had tried his
+&#8217;prentice hand on a drama. In the words of his own journal&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Went in the summer to Pugnano&mdash;passed the first three months in
+writing a play entitled <i>The Promise, or a year, a month, and a day</i>.
+S. tells me if they accept it he has great hopes of its success before
+an audience, and his hopes always enliven mine.</p></div>
+
+<p>Mary was straining every nerve to finish <i>Valperga</i>, in the hope of being
+able to send it to England by the Gisbornes, who were preparing to leave
+Italy,&mdash;a hope, however, which was not fulfilled.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary to Mrs. Gisborne.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Baths of S. Giuliano</span>,<br />
+<span style="padding-right: 1.5em;"><i>30th June 1821</i>.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Gisborne</span>&mdash;Well, how do you get on? Mr. Gisborne says
+nothing of that in the note which he wrote yesterday, and it is that
+in which I am most interested.</p>
+
+<p>I pity you exceedingly in all the disagreeable details to which you
+are obliged to sacrifice your time and attention. I can conceive no
+employment more tedious; but now I hope it is nearly over, and that as
+the fruit of its conclusion you will soon come to see us. Shelley is
+far from well; he suffers from his side and nervous irritation. The
+day on which he returned from Leghorn he found little Percy ill of a
+fever produced by teething. He got well the next day, but it was so
+strong while it lasted that it frightened us greatly. You know how
+much reason we have to fear the deceitful appearance of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> perfect
+health. You see that this, your last summer in Italy, is manufactured
+on purpose to accustom you to the English seasons.</p>
+
+<p>It is warmer now, but we still enjoy the delight of cloudy skies. The
+&#8220;Creator&#8221; has not yet made himself heard. I get on with my occupation,
+and hope to finish the rough transcript this month. I shall then give
+about a month to corrections, and then I shall transcribe it. It has
+indeed been a child of mighty slow growth since I first thought of it
+in our library at Marlow. I then wanted the body in which I might
+embody my spirit. The materials for this I found at Naples, but I
+wanted other books. Nor did I begin it till a year afterwards at Pisa;
+it was again suspended during our stay at your house, and continued
+again at the Baths. All the winter I did not touch it, but now it is
+in a state of great forwardness, since I am at page 71 of the third
+volume. It has indeed been a work of some labour, since I have read
+and consulted a great many books. I shall be very glad to read the
+first volume to you, that you may give me your opinion as to the
+conduct and interest of the story. June is now at its last gasp. You
+talked of going in August, I hope therefore that we may soon expect
+you. Have you heard anything concerning the inhabitants of Skinner
+Street? It is now many months since I received a letter, and I begin
+to grow alarmed. Adieu.&mdash;Ever sincerely yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary W. S.</span></p></div>
+
+<p>On the 26th of July the Gisbornes came to pay their friends a short
+farewell visit; on the 29th they started for England; Shelley going with
+them as far as Florence, where he and Mary thought again of settling for
+the winter, and where he wished to make inquiries about houses. During his
+few days&#8217; absence the Williams&#8217; were almost constantly with Mary. Edward
+Williams was busy painting a portrait of her in miniature, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>intended by
+her as a surprise for Shelley on his birthday, the 4th of August. But when
+that day arrived Shelley was unavoidably absent. On his return to the
+Baths he had found a letter from Lord Byron, with a pressing invitation to
+visit him at Ravenna, whence Byron was on the point of departing to join
+Countess Guiccioli and her family, who had been exiled from the Roman
+States for Carbonarism, and who, for the present, had taken refuge at
+Florence.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley&#8217;s thoughts turned at once, as they could not but do, to poor
+little Allegra, in her convent of Bagnacavallo. What was to become of her?
+Where would or could she be sent? or was she to be conveniently forgotten
+and left behind? He was off next day, the 3d; paid a flying visit to
+Clare, who was staying for her health at Leghorn, and arrived at Ravenna
+on the 6th.</p>
+
+<p>The miniature was finished and ready for him on his birthday. Mary, alone
+on that anniversary, was fain to look back over the past eventful seven
+years,&mdash;their joys, their sorrows, their many changes. Not long before,
+she had said, in a letter to Clare, &#8220;One is not gay, at least I am not,
+but peaceful, and at peace with all the world.&#8221; The same tone
+characterises the entry in her journal for 4th August.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Shelley&#8217;s birthday. Seven years are now gone; what changes! what a
+life! We now appear tranquil, yet who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> knows what wind&mdash;&mdash;but I will
+not prognosticate evil; we have had enough of it. When Shelley came to
+Italy I said, all is well, if it were permanent; it was more passing
+than an Italian twilight. I now say the same. May it be a Polar day,
+yet that, too, has an end.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">August-November 1821</span></p>
+
+<p>From Bologna Shelley wrote to Mary an amusing account of his journey, so
+far. But this letter was speedily followed by another, written within a
+few hours of his arrival at Ravenna; a letter, this second one, to make
+Mary&#8217;s blood run cold, although it is expressed with all the calmness and
+temperance that Shelley could command.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Ravenna</span>, <i>7th August 1821</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Mary</span>&mdash;I arrived last night at 10 o&#8217;clock, and sate up
+talking with Lord Byron until 5 this morning. I then went to sleep,
+and now awake at 11, and having despatched my breakfast as quick as
+possible, mean to devote the interval until 12, when the post departs,
+to you.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Byron is very well, and was delighted to see me. He has, in fact,
+completely recovered his health, and lives a life totally the reverse
+of that which he led at Venice. He has a permanent sort of <i>liaison</i>
+with Contessa Guiccioli, who is now at Florence, and seems from her
+letters to be a very amiable woman. She is waiting there until
+something shall be decided as to their emigration to Switzerland or
+stay in Italy, which is yet undetermined on either side. She was
+compelled to escape from the Papal territory in great haste, as
+measures had already been taken to place her in a convent, where she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>
+would have been unrelentingly confined for life. The oppression of the
+marriage contract, as existing in the laws and opinions of Italy,
+though less frequently exercised, is far severer than that of England.
+I tremble to think of what poor Emilia is destined to.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Byron had almost destroyed himself in Venice; his state of
+debility was such that he was unable to digest any food; he was
+consumed by hectic fever, and would speedily have perished, but for
+this attachment, which has reclaimed him from the excesses into which
+he threw himself, from carelessness rather than taste. Poor fellow! he
+is now quite well, and immersed in politics and literature. He has
+given me a number of the most interesting details on the former
+subject, but we will not speak of them in a letter. Fletcher is here,
+and as if, like a shadow, he waxed and waned with the substance of his
+master, Fletcher also has recovered his good looks, and from amidst
+the unseasonable gray hairs a fresh harvest of flaxen locks has put
+forth.</p>
+
+<p>We talked a great deal of poetry and such matters last night, and, as
+usual, differed, and I think more than ever. He affects to patronise a
+system of criticism fit for the production of mediocrity, and,
+although all his fine poems and passages have been produced in
+defiance of this system, yet I recognise the pernicious effects of it
+in the <i>Doge of Venice</i>, and it will cramp and limit his future
+efforts, however great they may be, unless he gets rid of it. I have
+read only parts of it, or rather, he himself read them to me, and gave
+me the plan of the whole.</p>
+
+<p>Allegra, he says, is grown very beautiful, but he complains that her
+temper is violent and imperious. He has no intention of leaving her in
+Italy; indeed, the thing is too improper in itself not to carry
+condemnation along with it. Contessa Guiccioli, he says, is very fond
+of her; indeed, I cannot see why she should not take care of it, if
+she is to live as his ostensible mistress. All this I shall know more
+of soon.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Byron has also told me of a circumstance that shocks me
+exceedingly, because it exhibits a degree of desperate and wicked
+malice, for which I am at a loss to account. When <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>I hear such things
+my patience and my philosophy are put to a severe proof, whilst I
+refrain from seeking out some obscure hiding-place, where the
+countenance of man may never meet me more. It seems that <i>Elise</i>,
+actuated either by some inconceivable malice for our dismissing her,
+or bribed by my enemies, has persuaded the Hoppners of a story so
+monstrous and incredible that they must have been prone to believe any
+evil to have believed such assertions upon such evidence. Mr. Hoppner
+wrote to Lord Byron to state this story as the reason why he declined
+any further communications with us, and why he advised him to do the
+same. Elise says that Claire was my mistress; that is very well, and
+so far there is nothing new; all the world has heard so much, and
+people may believe or not believe as they think good. She then
+proceeds further to say that Claire was with child by me; that I gave
+her the most violent medicine to procure abortion; that this not
+succeeding she was brought to bed, and that I immediately tore the
+child from her and sent it to the Foundling Hospital,&mdash;I quote Mr.
+Hoppner&#8217;s words,&mdash;and this is stated to have taken place in the winter
+after we left Este. In addition, she says that both Claire and I
+treated you in the most shameful manner; that I neglected and beat
+you, and that Claire never let a day pass without offering you insults
+of the most violent kind, in which she was abetted by me.</p>
+
+<p>As to what Reviews and the world say, I do not care a jot, but when
+persons who have known me are capable of conceiving of me&mdash;not that I
+have fallen into a great error, as would have been the living with
+Claire as my mistress&mdash;but that I have committed such unutterable
+crimes as destroying or abandoning a child, and that my own! Imagine
+my despair of good! Imagine how it is possible that one of so weak and
+sensitive a nature as mine can run further the gauntlet through this
+hellish society of men! <i>You</i> should write to the Hoppners a letter
+refuting the charge, in case you believe and know, and can prove that
+it is false, stating the grounds and proof of your belief. I need not
+dictate what you should say, nor, I hope, inspire you with warmth to
+rebut a charge which you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> only can effectually rebut. If you will send
+the letter to me here, I will forward it to the Hoppners. Lord Byron
+is not up. I do not know the Hoppners&#8217; address, and I am anxious not
+to lose a post.</p>
+
+<p class="signa">P. B. S.</p></div>
+
+<p>Mary&#8217;s feelings on the perusal of this letter may be faintly imagined by
+those who read it now, and who know what manner of woman she actually was.
+They are expressed, as far as they could be expressed, in the letter
+which, in accordance with Shelley&#8217;s desire, and while still smarting under
+the first shock of grief and profound indignation, she wrote off to Mrs.
+Hoppner, and enclosed in a note to Shelley himself.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary to Shelley.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Shelley</span>&mdash;Shocked beyond all measure as I was, I instantly
+wrote the enclosed. If the task be not too dreadful, pray copy it for
+me; I cannot.</p>
+
+<p>Read that part of your letter that contains the accusation. I tried,
+but I could not write it. I think I could as soon have died. I send
+also Elise&#8217;s last letter: enclose it or not, as you think best.</p>
+
+<p>I wrote to you with far different feelings last night, beloved friend,
+our barque is indeed &#8220;tempest tost,&#8221; but love me as you have ever
+done, and God preserve my child to me, and our enemies shall not be
+too much for us. Consider well if Florence be a fit residence for us.
+I love, I own, to face danger, but I would not be imprudent.</p>
+
+<p>Pray get my letter to Mrs. Hoppner copied for a thousand reasons.
+Adieu, dearest! Take care of yourself&mdash;all yet is well. The shock for
+me is over, and I now despise the slander; but it must not pass
+uncontradicted. I sincerely thank Lord Byron for his kind
+unbelief.&mdash;Affectionately yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">M. W. S.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>Do not think
+me imprudent in mentioning E.&#8217;s<a name='fna_44' id='fna_44' href='#f_44'><small>[44]</small></a> illness at Naples. It
+is well to meet facts. They are as cunning as wicked. I have read over
+my letter; it is written in haste, but it were as well that the first
+burst of feeling should be expressed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Pisa</span>, <i>10th August 1821</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Hoppner</span>&mdash;After a silence of nearly two years I address
+you again, and most bitterly do I regret the occasion on which I now
+write. Pardon me that I do not write in French; you understand English
+well, and I am too much impressed to shackle myself in a foreign
+language; even in my own my thoughts far outrun my pen, so that I can
+hardly form the letters. I write to defend him to whom I have the
+happiness to be united, whom I love and esteem beyond all living
+creatures, from the foulest calumnies; and to you I write this, who
+were so kind, and to Mr. Hoppner, to both of whom I indulged the
+pleasing idea that I have every reason to feel gratitude. This is
+indeed a painful task. Shelley is at present on a visit to Lord Byron
+at Ravenna, and I received a letter from him to-day, containing
+accounts that make my hand tremble so much that I can hardly hold the
+pen. It tells me that Elise wrote to you, relating the most hideous
+stories against him, and that you have believed them. Before I speak
+of these falsehoods, permit me to say a few words concerning this
+miserable girl. You well know that she formed an attachment with Paolo
+when we proceeded to Rome, and at Naples their marriage was talked of.
+We all tried to dissuade her; we knew Paolo to be a rascal, and we
+thought so well of her. An accident led me to the knowledge that
+without marrying they had formed a connection. She was ill; we sent
+for a doctor, who said there was danger of a miscarriage, I would not
+throw the girl on the world without in some degree binding her to this
+man. We had them married at Sir R. A. Court&#8217;s. She left us, turned
+Catholic at Rome, married him, and then went to Florence. After the
+disastrous death of my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> child we came to Tuscany. We have seen little
+of them, but we have had knowledge that Paolo has formed a scheme of
+extorting money from Shelley by false accusations. He has written him
+threatening letters, saying that he would be the ruin of him, etc. We
+placed them in the hands of a celebrated lawyer here, who has done
+what he can to silence him. Elise has never interfered in this, and
+indeed the other day I received a letter from her, entreating, with
+great professions of love, that I would send her money. I took no
+notice of this, but although I know her to be in evil hands, I would
+not believe that she was wicked enough to join in his plans without
+proof. And now I come to her accusations, and I must indeed summon all
+my courage whilst I transcribe them, for tears will force their way,
+and how can it be otherwise?</p>
+
+<p>You know Shelley, you saw his face, and could you believe them?
+Believe them only on the testimony of a girl whom you despised? I had
+hoped that such a thing was impossible, and that although strangers
+might believe the calumnies that this man propagated, none who had
+ever seen my husband could for a moment credit them.</p>
+
+<p>He says Claire was Shelley&#8217;s mistress, that&mdash;upon my word I solemnly
+assure you that I cannot write the words. I send you a part of
+Shelley&#8217;s letter that you may see what I am now about to refute, but I
+had rather die than copy anything so vilely, so wickedly false, so
+beyond all imagination fiendish.</p>
+
+<p>But that you should believe it! That my beloved Shelley should stand
+thus slandered in your minds&mdash;he, the gentlest and most humane of
+creatures&mdash;is more painful to me, oh! far more painful than words can
+express. Need I say that the union between my husband and myself has
+ever been undisturbed? Love caused our first imprudence&mdash;love, which,
+improved by esteem, a perfect trust one in the other, a confidence and
+affection which, visited as we have been by severe calamities (have we
+not lost two children?), has increased daily and knows no bounds. I
+will add that Claire has been separated from us for about a year. She
+lives with a respectable German family at Florence. The reasons for
+this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> were obvious: her connection with us made her manifest as the
+Miss Clairmont, the mother of Allegra; besides we live much alone, she
+enters much into society there, and, solely occupied with the idea of
+the welfare of her child, she wished to appear such that she may not
+be thought in after times to be unworthy of fulfilling the maternal
+duties. You ought to have paused before you tried to convince the
+father of her child of such unheard-of atrocities on her part. If his
+generosity and knowledge of the world had not made him reject the
+slander with the ridicule it deserved, what irretrievable mischief you
+would have occasioned her. Those who know me well believe my simple
+word&mdash;it is not long ago that my father said in a letter to me that he
+had never known me utter a falsehood,&mdash;but you, easy as you have been
+to credit evil, who may be more deaf to truth&mdash;to you I swear by all
+that I hold sacred upon heaven and earth, by a vow which I should die
+to write if I affirmed a falsehood,&mdash;I swear by the life of my child,
+by my blessed, beloved child, that I know the accusations to be false.
+But I have said enough to convince you, and are you not convinced? Are
+not my words the words of truth? Repair, I conjure you, the evil you
+have done by retracting your confidence in one so vile as Elise, and
+by writing to me that you now reject as false every circumstance of
+her infamous tale.</p>
+
+<p>You were kind to us, and I will never forget it; now I require
+justice. You must believe me, and do me, I solemnly entreat you, the
+justice to confess you do so.</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary W. Shelley.</span></p>
+
+<p>I send this letter to Shelley at Ravenna, that he may see it, for
+although I ought, the subject is too odious to me to copy it. I wish
+also that Lord Byron should see it; he gave no credit to the tale, but
+it is as well that he should see how entirely fabulous it is.</p></div>
+
+<p>Shelley, meanwhile, never far from her in thought, and knowing only too
+well how acutely she would suffer from all this, was writing to her again.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span><span class="smcap">Shelley to Mary.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Mary</span>&mdash;I wrote to you yesterday, and I begin another letter
+to-day without knowing exactly when I can send it, as I am told the
+post only goes once a week. I daresay the subject of the latter half
+of my letter gave you pain, but it was necessary to look the affair in
+the face, and the only satisfactory answer to the calumny must be
+given by you, and could be given by you alone. This is evidently the
+source of the violent denunciations of the <i>Literary Gazette</i>, in
+themselves contemptible enough, and only to be regarded as effects
+which show us their cause, which, until we put off our mortal nature,
+we never despise&mdash;that is, the belief of persons who have known and
+seen you that you are guilty of crimes. A certain degree and a certain
+kind of infamy is to be borne, and, in fact, is the best compliment
+which an exalted nature can receive from a filthy world, of which it
+is its hell to be a part, but this sort of thing exceeds the measure,
+and even if it were only for the sake of our dear Percy, I would take
+some pains to suppress it. In fact it shall be suppressed, even if I
+am driven to the disagreeable necessity of prosecuting him before the
+Tuscan tribunals....</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p>Write to me at Florence, where I shall remain a day at least, and send
+me letters, or news of letters. How is my little darling? and how are
+you, and how do you get on with your book? Be severe in your
+corrections, and expect severity from me, your sincere admirer. I
+flatter myself you have composed something unequalled in its kind, and
+that, not content with the honours of your birth and your hereditary
+aristocracy, you will add still higher renown to your name. Expect me
+at the end of my appointed time. I do not think I shall be detained.
+Is Claire with you? or is she coming? Have you heard anything of my
+poor Emilia, from whom I got a letter the day of my departure, saying
+that her marriage was deferred for a very short time, on account of
+the illness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> of her Sposo? How are the Williams&#8217;, and Williams
+especially? Give my very kindest love to them.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Byron has here splendid apartments in the house of his mistress&#8217;s
+husband, who is one of the richest men in Italy. <i>She</i> is divorced,
+with an allowance of 1200 crowns a year&mdash;a miserable pittance from a
+man who has 120,000 a year. Here are two monkeys, five cats, eight
+dogs, and ten horses, all of whom (except the horses) walk about the
+house like the masters of it. Tita, the Venetian, is here, and
+operates as my valet; a fine fellow, with a prodigious black beard,
+and who has stabbed two or three people, and is one of the most
+good-natured-looking fellows I ever saw.</p>
+
+<p>We have good rumours of the Greeks here, and a Russian war. I hardly
+wish the Russians to take any part in it. My maxim is with &AElig;schylus:
+&#964;&#8056; &#948;&#965;&#963;&#963;&#949;&#946;&#8051;&#962;&mdash;&#956;&#949;&#964;&#8048; &#956;&#8050;&#957;
+&#960;&#955;&#949;&#8055;&#959;&#957;&#945; &#964;&#8055;&#954;&#964;&#949;&#953;,
+&#963;&#966;&#949;&#964;&#8051;&#961;&#8115; &#948;&#8127;&#949;&#7984;&#954;&#8057;&#964;&#945; &#947;&#8051;&#957;&#957;&#8115;.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p>There is a Greek exercise for you. How should slaves produce anything
+but tyranny, even as the seed produces the plant? Adieu, dear
+Mary.&mdash;Yours affectionately,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">S.</p></div>
+
+<p>At Ravenna there was only a weekly post. Shelley had to wait a long time
+for Mary&#8217;s answer, and before it could reach him he was writing to her yet
+a third time. His mind was now full of Allegra. She was not to be left
+alone in Italy. Shelley, enlightened by Emilia Viviani, had been able to
+give Byron, on the subject of convents, such information as to &#8220;shake his
+faith in the purity of these receptacles.&#8221; But no conclusions of any sort
+had been arrived at as to her future; and Shelley entreated Mary to rack
+her brains, to inquire of all her friends, to leave no stone unturned, if
+by any possibility she could find some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> fitting asylum, some safe home for
+the lovely child. He had been to see the little girl at her convent, and
+all readers of his letters know the description of the fairy creature,
+who, with her &#8220;contemplative seriousness, mixed with excessive vivacity,
+seemed a thing of a higher and a finer order&#8221; than the children around
+her; happy and well cared for, as far as he could judge; pale, but
+lovelier and livelier than ever, and full of childish glee and fun.</p>
+
+<p>At this point of his letter Mary&#8217;s budget arrived, and Shelley continued
+as follows&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Ravenna</span>, <i>Thursday</i>.</p>
+
+<p>I have received your letter with that to Mrs. Hoppner. I do not
+wonder, my dearest friend, that you should have been moved. I was at
+first, but speedily regained the indifference which the opinion of
+anything or anybody, except our own consciousness, amply merits, and
+day by day shall more receive from me. I have not recopied your
+letter, such a measure would destroy its authenticity, but have given
+it to Lord Byron, who has engaged to send it with his own comments to
+the Hoppners. People do not hesitate, it seems, to make themselves
+panders and accomplices to slander, for the Hoppners had exacted from
+Lord Byron that these accusations should be concealed from <i>me</i>: Lord
+Byron is not a man to keep a secret, good or bad, but in openly
+confessing that he has not done so he must observe a certain delicacy,
+and therefore wished to send the letter himself, and, indeed, this
+adds weight to your representations. Have you seen the article in the
+<i>Literary Gazette</i> on me? They evidently allude to some story of this
+kind. However cautious the Hoppners have been in preventing the
+calumniated person from asserting his justification, you know too much
+of the world not to be certain that this was the utmost limit of their
+caution. So much for nothing.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>Lord Byron is immediately coming to Pisa. He will set off the moment I
+can get him a house. Who would have imagined this?... What think you
+of remaining at Pisa? The Williams&#8217; would probably be induced to stay
+there if we did; Hunt would certainly stay, at least this winter, near
+us, should he emigrate at all; Lord Byron and his Italian friends
+would remain quietly there; and Lord Byron has certainly a very great
+regard for us. The regard of such a man is worth some of the tribute
+we must pay to the base passions of humanity in any intercourse with
+those within their circle; he is better worth it than those on whom we
+bestow it from mere custom.</p>
+
+<p>The Masons are there, and, as far as solid affairs are concerned, are
+my friends. I allow this is an argument for Florence. Mrs. Mason&#8217;s
+perversity is very annoying to me, especially as Mr. Tighe is
+seriously my friend. This circumstance makes me averse from that
+intimate continuation of intercourse which, once having begun, I can
+no longer avoid.</p>
+
+<p>At Pisa I need not distil my water, if I <i>can</i> distil it anywhere.
+Last winter I suffered less from my painful disorder than the winter I
+spent in Florence. The arguments for Florence you know, and they are
+very weighty; judge (<i>I know you like the job</i>) which scale is
+overbalanced. My greatest content would be utterly to desert all human
+society. I would retire with you and our child to a solitary island in
+the sea, would build a boat, and shut upon my retreat the flood-gates
+of the world. I would read no reviews and talk with no authors. If I
+dared trust my imagination, it would tell me that there are one or two
+chosen companions besides yourself whom I should desire. But to this I
+would not listen. Where two or three are gathered together the devil
+is among them, and good far more than evil impulses, love far more
+than hatred, has been to me, except as you have been its object, the
+source of all sorts of mischief. So on this plan I would be <i>alone</i>,
+and would devote either to oblivion or to future generations the
+overflowings of a mind which, timely withdrawn from the contagion,
+should be kept fit for no baser<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> object. But this it does not appear
+that we shall do. The other side of the alternative (for a medium
+ought not to be adopted) is to form for ourselves a society of our own
+class, as much as possible, in intellect or in feelings, and to
+connect ourselves with the interests of that society. Our roots never
+struck so deeply as at Pisa, and the transplanted tree flourishes not.
+People who lead the lives which we led until last winter are like a
+family of Wahabee Arabs pitching their tent in the midst of London. We
+must do one thing or the other,&mdash;for yourself, for our child, for our
+existence. The calumnies, the sources of which are probably deeper
+than we perceive, have ultimately for object the depriving us of the
+means of security and subsistence. You will easily perceive the
+gradations by which calumny proceeds to pretext, pretext to
+persecution, and persecution to the ban of fire and water. It is for
+this, and not because this or that fool, or the whole court of fools,
+curse and rail, that calumny is worth refuting or chastising.</p>
+
+<p class="signa">P. B. S.</p></div>
+
+<p>&#8220;So much for nothing,&#8221; indeed. When Byron made himself responsible for
+Mary&#8217;s letter, it was, probably, without any definite intention of
+withholding it from those to whom it was addressed. He may well have
+wished to add to this glowing denial of his own insinuations some
+palliating personal explanation. When, in the previous March, Clare had
+protested against an Italian convent education for Allegra, he had sent
+her letter to the Hoppners with a sneer at the &#8220;excellent grace&#8221; with
+which these representations came from a woman of the writer&#8217;s character
+and present way of life. And yet he knew Shelley,&mdash;knew him as the
+Hoppners could not do; he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> knew what Shelley had done for him, for Clare,
+and Allegra; and to how much slander and misrepresentation he had
+voluntarily submitted that they might go scot-free. Byron was,&mdash;and he
+knew it,&mdash;the last person who should have accepted or allowed others to
+accept this fresh scandal without proof and without inquiry. He was
+ashamed of the part he had played, and reluctant to confess to the
+Hoppners that he had been wrong, and that his words, as often happened,
+had been far in advance of his knowledge or his solid convictions; but his
+intentions were to do the best he could. And, satisfying himself with good
+intentions, he put off the unwelcome day until the occasion was past, and
+till, finally, the friend whose honour had been entrusted to his keeping
+was beyond his power to help or to harm. Shelley was dead; and how then
+explain to the Hoppners why the letter had not been sent before? It was
+&#8220;not worth while,&#8221; probably, to revive the subject in order to vindicate a
+mere memory, nor yet to remove an unjust and cruel stigma from the
+character of those who survived. However it may have been, one thing is
+undoubted. Mary Shelley never received any answer to her letter of
+protest, which, after Byron&#8217;s death, was found safe among his papers.</p>
+
+<p>One more note Shelley sent to Mary from Ravenna on the subject of the
+promised portrait. It would not seem that the miniature was actually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>
+despatched now, but as his return was so long delayed, the birthday plot
+had to be divulged.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Ravenna</span>, <i>Tuesday, 15th August 1821</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Love</span>&mdash;I accept your kind present of your picture, and wish
+you would get it prettily framed for me. I will wear, for your sake,
+upon my heart this image which is ever present to my mind.</p>
+
+<p>I have only two minutes to write; the post is just setting off. I
+shall leave the place on Thursday or Friday morning. You would forgive
+me for my longer stay if you knew the fighting I have had to make it
+so short. I need not say where my own feelings impel me.</p>
+
+<p>It still remains fixed that Lord Byron should come to Tuscany, and, if
+possible, Pisa; but more of that to-morrow.&mdash;Your faithful and
+affectionate</p>
+
+<p class="signa">S.</p></div>
+
+<p>The foregoing painful episode was enough to fill Mary&#8217;s mind during the
+fortnight she was alone. It was well for her that she was within easy
+reach of cheerful friends, yet, even as it was, she could not altogether
+escape from bitter thoughts. Clare was at Leghorn, and had to be told of
+everything. Mary could not but think of the relief it would be to them all
+if she were to marry; a remote possibility to which she probably alludes
+in the following letter, written at this time to Miss Curran&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary Shelley to Miss Curran.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">San Giuliano</span>, <i>17th August</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Miss Curran</span>&mdash;It gives me great pain to hear of your
+ill-health. Will this hot summer conduce to a better state or not? I
+hope anxiously, when I hear from you again,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> to learn that you are
+better, having recovered from your weakness, and that you have no
+return of your disorder. I should have answered your letter before,
+but we have been in the confusion of moving. We are now settled in an
+agreeable house at the Baths of San Giuliano, about four miles from
+Pisa, under the shadow of mountains, and with delightful scenery
+within a walk. We go on in our old manner, with no change. I have had
+many changes for the worse; one might be for the better, but that is
+nearly impossible. Our child is well and thriving, which is a great
+comfort, and the Italian sky gives Shelley health, which is to him a
+rare and substantial enjoyment. I did [not] receive the letter you
+mention to have written in March, and you also have missed one of our
+letters in which Shelley acknowledged the receipt of the drawings you
+mention, and requested that the largest pyramid might be erected if
+they could case it with white marble for &pound;25. However, the whole had
+better stand as I mentioned in my last; for, without the most rigorous
+inspection, great cheating would take place, and no female could
+detect them. When we visit Rome, we can do that which we wish. Many
+thanks for your kindness, which has been very great. I would send you
+on the books I mentioned, but we live out of the world, and I know of
+no conveyance. Mr. Purniance says that he sent the life of your father
+by sea to Rome, directed to you; so, doubtless, it is in the
+custom-house there.</p>
+
+<p>How enraged all our mighty rulers are at the quiet revolutions which
+have taken place; it is said that some one said to the Grand Duke
+here: &#8220;Ma richiedono una constituzione qui?&#8221; &#8220;Ebene, la dar&ograve; subito&#8221;
+was the reply; but he is not his own master, and Austria would take
+care that that should not be the case; they say Austrian troops are
+coming here, and the Tuscan ones will be sent to Germany. We take in
+<i>Galignani</i>, and would send them to you if you liked. I do not know
+what the expense would be, but I should think slight. If you
+recommence painting, do not forget Beatrice. I wish very much for a
+copy of that; you would oblige us greatly by making one. Pray let me
+hear of your health.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> God knows when we shall be in Rome;
+circumstances must direct, and they dance about like
+will-o&#8217;-the-wisps, enticing and then deserting us. We must take care
+not to be left in a bog. Adieu, take care of yourself. Believe in
+Shelley&#8217;s sincere wishes for your health, and in kind remembrances,
+and in my being ever sincerely yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">M. W. Shelley</span>.</p>
+
+<p>Clare desires (not remembrances, if they are not pleasant), however
+she sends a proper message, and says she would be obliged to you, if
+you let her have her picture, if you could find a mode of conveying
+it....</p>
+
+<p>Do you know we lose many letters, having spies (not Government ones)
+about us in plenty; they made a desperate push to do us a desperate
+mischief lately, but succeeded no further than to blacken us among the
+English; so if you receive a fresh batch (or green bag) of scandal
+against us, I assure you it is all a <i>lie</i>. Poor souls! we live
+innocently, as you well know; if we did not, ten to one God would take
+pity on us, and we should not be so unfortunate.</p></div>
+
+<p>Shelley&#8217;s absence, though eventful, was, after all, a short one. In about
+a fortnight he was back again at the Bagni, and for a few weeks life was
+quiet.</p>
+
+<p>On the 18th of September Mary records&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Picnic on the Pugnano Mountains; music in the evening. Sleep there.</p>
+
+<p>On another occasion, wishing to find some tolerably cool seaside place
+where they might spend the next summer, they went,&mdash;the Shelleys and
+Clare,&mdash;on a two or three days&#8217; expedition of discovery to Spezzia, and
+were enchanted with the beauty of the bay. Clare had, shortly after, to
+return to her situation at Florence, but the Shelleys decided to winter at
+Pisa. They took a top flat in the &#8220;Tre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> Palazzi di Chiesa,&#8221; on the Lung&#8217;
+Arno, and spent part of October in furnishing it. They took possession
+about the 25th; the Williams&#8217; coming, not many days later, to occupy a
+lower flat in the same house. At Lord Byron&#8217;s request, the Shelleys had
+taken for him Casa Lanfranchi, the finest palace in the Lung&#8217; Arno, just
+opposite the house where they themselves were established. This close
+juxtaposition of abodes was likely to prove somewhat inconvenient, in case
+of Clare&#8217;s occasional presence at Tre Palazzi. Her first visit, however,
+to which the following characteristic letter refers, was to the Masons at
+Casa Silva, and it came to an end just before Byron&#8217;s arrival in Pisa.
+Clare had been staying with the Williams&#8217; at Pugnano.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Clare to Mary.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mary</span>&mdash;I arrived last night&mdash;won&#8217;t you come and see me to-day?
+The Williams&#8217; wish you to forward them Mr. Webb&#8217;s answer, if possible,
+to reach them by 2 o&#8217;clock afternoon to-day. If Mr. Webb says yes (you
+will open his note), send Dominico with it to them, and he passing by
+the Baths must order Pancani to be at Pugnano by 5 o&#8217;clock in the
+afternoon. If there comes no letter from Mr. Webb, they will equally
+come to you, and I wish you could also in that case contrive to get
+Pancani ordered for them, for we forgot to arrange how that could be
+done; if not, they will be there expecting, and perhaps get involved
+for the next month. I wish you to be so good as to send me immediately
+my large box and the clothes from the Busati, indeed all that you have
+of mine, for I must arrange my boxes to get them <i>bollate</i>
+immediately. Don&#8217;t delay, and my band-box too. If you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> could of your
+great bounty give me a sponge, I should be infinitely obliged to you.
+Then, when it is dark, and the Williams&#8217; arrived, will you ask Mr.
+Williams to be so good as to come and knock at Casa Silva, and I will
+return to spend the evening with you? Shelley won&#8217;t do to fetch me,
+because he looks singular in the streets. But I wish he would come now
+to give me some money, as I want to write to Livorno and arrange
+everything. Later will be inconvenient for me. Kiss the chick for me,
+and believe me, yours affectionately,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Clare</span>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><i>Journal.</i>&mdash;All October is left out, it seems.&mdash;We are at the Baths,
+occupied with furnishing our house, copying my novel, etc. etc.</p></div>
+
+<p>Mary&#8217;s intention was to devote any profits which might proceed from this
+work to the relief of her father&#8217;s necessities, and the hope of being able
+to help him had stimulated her industry and energy while it eased her
+heart. She aimed at selling the copyright for &pound;400, and Shelley opened
+negotiations to this effect with Ollier the publisher. His letter on the
+subject bears such striking testimony to the estimate he had formed of
+Mary&#8217;s powers, and gives, besides, so complete a sketch of the novel
+itself, that it cannot be omitted here.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Shelley to Mr. Ollier.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Pisa</span>, <i>25th September 1822</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>&mdash;It will give me great pleasure if I can arrange the affair
+of Mrs. Shelley&#8217;s novel with you to her and your satisfaction. She has
+a specific purpose in the sum which she instructed me to require, and,
+although this purpose could not be answered without ready money, yet I
+should find means to answer her wishes in that point if you could make
+it <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>convenient to pay one-third at Christmas, and give bills for the
+other two-thirds at twelve and eighteen months. It would give me
+peculiar satisfaction that you, rather than any other person, should
+be the publisher of this work; it is the product of no slight labour,
+and I flatter myself, of no common talent, I doubt not it will give no
+less credit than it will receive from your names. I trust you know me
+too well to believe that my judgment deliberately given in testimony
+of the value of any production is influenced by motives of interest or
+partiality.</p>
+
+<p>The romance is called <i>Castruccio, Prince of Lucca</i>, and is founded,
+not upon the novel of Machiavelli under that name, which substitutes a
+childish fiction for the far more romantic truth of history, but upon
+the actual story of his life. He was a person who, from an exile and
+an adventurer, after having served in the wars of England and Flanders
+in the reign of our Edward the Second, returned to his native city,
+and liberating it from its tyrants, became himself its tyrant, and
+died in the full splendour of his dominion, which he had extended over
+the half of Tuscany. He was a little Napoleon, and with a dukedom
+instead of an empire for his theatre, brought upon the same all the
+passions and errors of his antitype. The chief interest of the romance
+rests upon Euthanasia, his betrothed bride, whose love for him is only
+equalled by her enthusiasm for the liberty of the Republic of
+Florence, which is in some sort her country, and for that of Italy, to
+which Castruccio is a devoted enemy, being an ally of the party of the
+Emperor. This character is a masterpiece; and the keystone of the
+drama, which is built up with admirable art, is the conflict between
+these passions and these principles. Euthanasia, the last survivor of
+a noble house, is a feudal countess, and her castle is the scene of
+the exhibition of the knightly manners of the time. The character of
+Beatrice, the prophetess, can only be done justice to in the very
+language of the author. I know nothing in Walter Scott&#8217;s novels which
+at all approaches to the beauty and the sublimity of this&mdash;creation, I
+may say, for it is perfectly original; and, although founded upon the
+ideas and manners of the age which is represented, is wholly without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>
+a similitude in any fiction I ever read. Beatrice is in love with
+Castruccio, and dies; for the romance, although interspersed with much
+lighter matter, is deeply tragic, and the shades darken and gather as
+the catastrophe approaches. All the manners, customs of the age, are
+introduced; the superstitions, the heresies, and the religious
+persecutions are displayed; the minutest circumstance of Italian
+manners in that age is not omitted; and the whole seems to me to
+constitute a living and moving picture of an age almost forgotten. The
+author visited the scenery which she describes in person; and one or
+two of the inferior characters are drawn from her own observation of
+the Italians, for the national character shows itself still in certain
+instances under the same forms as it wore in the time of Dante. The
+novel consists, as I told you before, of three volumes, each at least
+equal to one of the <i>Tales of my Landlord</i>, and they will be very soon
+ready to be sent.</p></div>
+
+<p>No arrangement, however, was come to at this time, and early in January
+Mary wrote to her father, offering the work to him, and asking him, if he
+accepted it, to make a bargain concerning it with a publisher.</p>
+
+<p>Godwin accepted the offer, and undertook the responsibility, in a letter
+from which the following is an extract&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><i>31st January 1822.</i></p>
+
+<p>I am much gratified by your letter of the 11th, which reached me on
+Saturday last; it is truly generous of you to desire that I would make
+use of the produce of your novel. But what can I say to it? It is
+against the course of nature, unless, indeed, you were actually in
+possession of a fortune.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p>I said in the preface to <i>Mandeville</i> there were two or three works
+further that I should be glad to finish before I died. If I make use
+of the money from you in the way you suggest, that may enable me to
+complete my present work.</p></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>The MS. was, accordingly, despatched to England, but was not published
+till many months later.</p>
+
+<p><i>Valperga</i> (as it was afterwards called) was a book of much power and more
+promise; very remarkable when the author&#8217;s age is taken into
+consideration. Apart from local colouring, the interest of the tale turns
+on the development of the character&mdash;naturally powerful and disposed to
+good, but spoilt by popularity and success, and unguided by principle&mdash;of
+Castruccio himself; and on the contrast between him and Euthanasia, the
+noble and beautiful woman who sacrifices her possessions, her hopes, and
+her affections to the cause of fidelity and patriotism.</p>
+
+<p>Beatrice, the prophetess, is one of those gifted but fated souls, who,
+under the persuasion that they are supernaturally inspired, mistake the
+ordinary impulses of human nature for Divine commands, and, finding their
+mistake, yet encourage themselves in what they know to be delusion till
+the end,&mdash;a tragic end.</p>
+
+<p>There are some remarkable descriptive passages, especially one where the
+wandering Beatrice comes suddenly upon a house in a dreary landscape which
+she knows, although she has never seen it before except in a haunting
+dream; every detail of it is horribly familiar, and she is paralysed by
+the sense of imminent calamity, which, in fact, bursts upon her directly
+afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>Euthanasia dies at sea, and the account of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> running down and wreck of
+her ship is a curious, almost prophetic, foreshadowing of the calamity by
+which, all too soon, Shelley was to lose his life.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The wind changed to a more northerly direction during the night, and
+the land-breeze of the morning filled their sails, so that, although
+slowly, they dropt down southward. About noon they met a Pisan vessel,
+who bade them beware of a Genoese squadron, which was cruising off
+Corsica; so they bore in nearer to the shore. At sunset that day a
+fierce sirocco arose, accompanied by thunder and lightning, such as is
+seldom seen during the winter season. Presently they saw huge dark
+columns descending from heaven, and meeting the sea, which boiled
+beneath; they were borne on by the storm, and scattered by the wind.
+The rain came down in sheets, and the hail clattered, as it fell to
+its grave in the ocean; the ocean was lashed into such waves that,
+many miles inland, during the pauses of the wind, the hoarse and
+constant murmurs of the far-off sea made the well-housed landsman
+mutter one more prayer for those exposed to its fury.</p>
+
+<p>Such was the storm, as it was seen from shore. Nothing more was ever
+known of the Sicilian vessel which bore Euthanasia. It never reached
+its destined port, nor were any of those on board ever after seen. The
+sentinels who watched near Vado, a town on the sea-beach of the
+Maremma, found on the following day that the waves had washed on shore
+some of the wrecks of a vessel; they picked up a few planks and a
+broken mast, round which, tangled with some of its cordage, was a
+white silk handkerchief, such a one as had bound the tresses of
+Euthanasia the night that she had embarked; and in its knot were a few
+golden hairs.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>To follow the fate of Mary&#8217;s novel, it has been necessary somewhat to
+anticipate the history, which is resumed in the next chapter, with the
+journal and letters of the latter part of 1821.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">November 1821-April 1822</span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Thursday, November 1.</i>&mdash;Go to Florence. Copy. Ride with the
+Guiccioli. Alb&eacute; arrives.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, November 4.</i>&mdash;The Williams&#8217; arrive. Copy. Call on the
+Guiccioli.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, November 15.</i>&mdash;Copy. Read <i>Caleb Williams</i> to Jane. Ride
+with the Guiccioli. Shelley goes on translating Spinoza with Edward.
+Medwin arrives. Taafe calls. Argyropulo calls. Good news from the
+Greeks.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, November 28.</i>&mdash;Ride with the Guiccioli. Suffer much with
+rheumatism in my head.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, November 29.</i>&mdash;I mark this day because I begin my Greek
+again, and that is a study that ever delights me. I do not feel the
+bore of it, as in learning another language, although it be so
+difficult, it so richly repays one; yet I read little, for I am not
+well. Shelley and the Williams go to Leghorn; they dine with us
+afterwards with Medwin. Write to Clare.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, November 30.</i>&mdash;Correct the novel. Read a little Greek. Not
+well. Ride with the Guiccioli. The Count Pietro (Gamba) in the
+evening.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Shelley to Mrs. Gisborne.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Pisa</span>, <i>30th November 1821</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Gisborne</span>&mdash;Although having much to do be a bad excuse for
+not writing to you, yet you must in some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> sort admit this plea on my
+part. Here we are in Pisa, having furnished very nice apartments for
+ourselves, and what is more, paid for the furniture out of the fruits
+of two years&#8217; economy, we are at the top of the Tre Palazzi di Chiesa.
+I daresay you know the house, next door to La Scoto&#8217;s house on the
+north side of Lung&#8217; Arno; but the rooms we inhabit are south, and look
+over the whole country towards the sea, so that we are entirely out of
+the bustle and disagreeable <i>puzzi</i>, etc., of the town, and hardly
+know that we are so enveloped until we descend into the street. The
+Williams&#8217; have been less lucky, though they have followed our example
+in furnishing their own house, but, renting it of Mr. Webb, they have
+been treated scurvily. So here we live, Lord Byron just opposite to us
+in Casa Lanfranchi (the late Signora Felichi&#8217;s house). So Pisa, you
+see, has become a little nest of singing birds. You will be both
+surprised and delighted at the work just about to be published by him;
+his <i>Cain</i>, which is in the highest style of imaginative poetry. It
+made a great impression upon me, and appears almost a revelation, from
+its power and beauty. Shelley rides with him; I, of course, see little
+of him. The lady <i>whom he serves</i> is a nice pretty girl without
+pretensions, good hearted and amiable; her relations were banished
+Romagna for Carbonarism.</p>
+
+<p>What do you know of Hunt? About two months ago he wrote to say that on
+21st October he should quit England, and we have heard nothing more of
+him in any way; I expect some day he and six children will drop in
+from the clouds, trusting that God will temper the wind to the shorn
+lamb. Pray when you write, tell us everything you know concerning him.
+Do you get any intelligence of the Greeks? Our worthy countrymen take
+part against them in every possible way, yet such is the spirit of
+freedom, and such the hatred of these poor people for their
+oppressors, that I have the warmest hopes&mdash;&#956;&#8049;&#957;&#964;&#953;&#962; &#949;&#7988;&#956;&#8127;
+&#7952;&#963;&#952;&#955;&#969;&#957; &#7936;&#947;&#969;&#957;&#8061;&#957;.
+Mavrocordato is there, justly revered for the sacrifice he
+has made of his whole fortune to the cause, and besides for his
+firmness and talents. If Greece be free, Shelley and I have vowed to
+go, perhaps to settle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> there, in one of those beautiful islands where
+earth, ocean, and sky form the paradise. You will, I hope, tell us all
+the news of our friends when you write. I see no one that you know. We
+live in our usual retired way, with few friends and no acquaintances.
+Clare is returned to her usual residence, and our tranquillity is
+unbroken in upon, except by those winds, sirocco or tramontana, which
+now and then will sweep over the ocean of one&#8217;s mind and disturb or
+cloud its surface. Since this must be a double letter, I save myself
+the trouble of copying the enclosed, which was a part of a letter
+written to you a month ago, but which I did not send. Will you attend
+to my requests? Every day increases my anxiety concerning the desk. Do
+have the goodness to pack it off as soon as you can.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley was at your hive yesterday; it is as dirty and busy as ever,
+so people live in the same narrow circle of space and thought, while
+time goes on, not as a racehorse, but a &#8220;six inside dilly,&#8221; and puts
+them down softly at their journey&#8217;s end; while they have slept and
+ate, and <i>ecco tutto</i>. With this piece of morality, dear Mrs.
+Gisborne, I end. Shelley begs every remembrance of his to be joined
+with mine to Mr. Gisborne and Henry.&mdash;Ever yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary W. S.</span></p>
+
+<p>And now, my dear Mrs. Gisborne, I have a great favour to ask of you.
+Ollier writes to say that he has placed our two desks in the hands of
+a merchant of the city, and that they are to come&mdash;God knows when!
+Now, as we sent for them two years ago, and are tired of waiting, will
+you do us the favour to get them out of his hands, and to send them
+without delay? If they can be sent without being opened, send them <i>in
+statu quo</i>; if they must be opened, do not send the smallest but get a
+key (being a patent lock a key will cost half a guinea) made for the
+largest and send it, and return the other to Peacock. If you send the
+desk, will you send with it the following things?&mdash;A few copies of all
+Shelley&#8217;s works, particularly of the second edition of the <i>Cenci</i>, my
+mother&#8217;s posthumous works, and <i>Letters from Norway</i> from Peacock, if
+you can, but do not delay the box for them.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span><i>Journal, Sunday, December 2.</i>&mdash;Read the <i>History of Shipwrecks</i>. Read
+Herodotus with Shelley. Ride with La Guiccioli. Pietro and her in the
+evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, December 3.</i>&mdash;Write letters. Read Herodotus with Shelley.
+Finish <i>Caleb Williams</i> to Jane. Taafe calls. He says that his Turk is
+a very moral man, for that when he began a scandalous story he
+interrupted him immediately, saying, &#8220;Ah! we must never speak thus of
+our neighbours!&#8221; Taafe would do well to take the hint.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, December 6.</i>&mdash;Read Homer. Walk with Williams. Spend the
+evening with them. Call on T. Guiccioli with Jane, while Taafe amuses
+Shelley and Edward. Read Tacitus. A dismal day.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, December 7.</i>&mdash;Letter from Hunt and Bessy. Walk with Shelley.
+Buy furniture for them, etc. Walk with Edward and Jane to the garden,
+and return with T. Guiccioli in the carriage. Edward reads the
+<i>Shipwreck of the Wager</i> to us in the evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, December 8.</i>&mdash;Get up late and talk with Shelley. The
+Williams and Medwin to dinner. Walk with Edward and Jane in the
+garden. Return with T. Guiccioli. T. G. and Pietro in the evening.
+Write to Clare. Read Tacitus.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, December 9.</i>&mdash;Go to church at Dr. Nott&#8217;s. Walk with Edward
+and Jane in the garden. In the evening first Pietro and Teresa,
+afterwards go to the Williams&#8217;.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, December 10.</i>&mdash;Out shopping. Walk with the Williams and T.
+Guiccioli to the garden. Medwin at tea. Afterwards we are alone, and
+after reading a little Herodotus, Shelley reads Chaucer&#8217;s <i>Flower and
+the Leaf</i>, and then Chaucer&#8217;s <i>Dream</i> to me. A divine, cold,
+tramontana day.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, January 14.</i>&mdash;Read <i>Emile</i>. Call on T. Guiccioli and see Lord
+Byron. Trelawny arrives.</p></div>
+
+<p>Edward John Trelawny, whose subsequent history was to be closely bound up
+with that of Shelley and of Mrs. Shelley, was of good Cornish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> family, and
+had led a wandering life, full of romantic adventure. He had become
+acquainted with Williams and Medwin in Switzerland a year before, since
+which he had been in Paris and London. Tired of a town life and of
+society, and in order to &#8220;maintain the just equilibrium between the body
+and the brain,&#8221; he had determined to pass the next winter hunting and
+shooting in the wilds of the Maremma, with a Captain Roberts and
+Lieutenant Williams. For the exercise of his brain, he proposed passing
+the summer with Shelley and Byron, boating in the Mediterranean, as he had
+heard that they proposed doing. Neither of the poets were as yet
+personally known to him, but he had lost no time in seeking their
+acquaintance. On the very evening of his arrival in Pisa he repaired to
+the Tre Palazzi, where, in the Williams&#8217; room, he first saw Shelley, and
+was struck speechless with astonishment.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Was it possible this mild-looking beardless boy could be the veritable
+monster at war with all the world? Excommunicated by the Fathers of
+the Church, deprived of his civil rights by the fiat of a grim Lord
+Chancellor, discarded by every member of his family, and denounced by
+the rival sages of our literature as the founder of a Satanic school?
+I could not believe it; it must be a hoax.</p>
+
+<p>But presently, when Shelley was led to talk on a theme that interested
+him&mdash;the works of Calderon,&mdash;his marvellous powers of mind and command of
+language held Trelawny spell-bound: &#8220;After this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> touch of his quality,&#8221; he
+says, &#8220;I no longer doubted his identity.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Shelley appeared soon after, and the visitor looked with lively
+curiosity at the daughter of William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Such a rare pedigree of genius was enough to interest me in her,
+irrespective of her own merits as an authoress. The most striking
+feature in her face was her calm, gray eyes; she was rather under the
+English standard of woman&#8217;s height, very fair and light-haired; witty,
+social, and animated in the society of friends, though mournful in
+solitude; like Shelley, though in a minor degree, she had the power of
+expressing her thoughts in varied and appropriate words, derived from
+familiarity with the works of our vigorous old writers. Neither of
+them used obsolete or foreign words. This command of our language
+struck me the more as contrasted with the scanty vocabulary used by
+ladies in society, in which a score of poor hackneyed phrases suffice
+to express all that is felt or considered proper to reveal.<a name='fna_45' id='fna_45' href='#f_45'><small>[45]</small></a></p>
+
+<p>Mary&#8217;s impressions of the new-comer may be gathered from her journal and
+her subsequent letter to Mrs. Gisborne.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Saturday, January 19.</i>&mdash;Copy. Walk with Jane. The Opera in
+the evening. Trelawny is extravagant&mdash;<i>un giovane
+stravagante</i>,&mdash;partly natural, and partly, perhaps, put on, but it
+suits him well, and if his abrupt but not unpolished manners be
+assumed, they are nevertheless in unison with his Moorish face (for he
+looks Oriental yet not Asiatic), his dark hair, his Herculean form;
+and then there is an air of extreme good nature which pervades his
+whole countenance, especially when he smiles, which assures me that
+his heart is good. He tells strange stories of himself, horrific ones,
+so that they harrow one up, while with his emphatic but unmodulated
+voice, his simple<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> yet strong language, he pourtrays the most
+frightful situations; then all these adventures took place between the
+ages of thirteen and twenty.</p>
+
+<p>I believe them now I see the man, and, tired with the everyday
+sleepiness of human intercourse, I am glad to meet with one who, among
+other valuable qualities, has the rare merit of interesting my
+imagination. The <i>crew</i> and Medwin dine with us.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, January 27.</i>&mdash;Read Homer. Walk. Dine at the Williams&#8217;. The
+Opera in the evening. Ride with T. Guiccioli.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, January 28.</i>&mdash;The Williams breakfast with us. Go down Bocca
+d&#8217;Arno in the boat with Shelley and Jane. Edward and E. Trelawny meet
+us there; return in the gig; they dine with us; very tired.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday, January 29.</i>&mdash;Read Homer and Tacitus. Ride with T.
+Guiccioli. E. Trelawny and Medwin to dinner. The Baron Lutzerode in
+the evening.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">But as the torrent widens towards the ocean,<br />
+We ponder deeply on each past emotion.</p>
+
+<p>Read the first volume of the <i>Pirate</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, February 3.</i>&mdash;Read Homer. Walk to the garden with Jane.
+Return with Medwin to dinner. Trelawny in the evening. A wild day and
+night, some clouds in the sky in the morning, but they clear away. A
+north wind.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, February 4.</i>&mdash;Breakfast with the Williams&#8217;. Edward, Jane, and
+Trelawny go to Leghorn. Walk with Jane. Southey&#8217;s letter concerning
+Lord Byron. Write to Clare. In the evening the Gambas and Taafe.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, February 7.</i>&mdash;Read Homer, Tacitus, and <i>Emile</i>. Shelley and
+Edward depart for La Spezzia. Walk with Jane, and to the Opera with
+her in the evening. With E. Trelawny afterwards to Mrs. Beauclerc&#8217;s
+ball. During a long, long evening in mixed society how often do one&#8217;s
+sensations change, and, swiftly as the west wind drives the shadows of
+clouds across the sunny hill or the waving corn, so swift do
+sensations pass, painting&mdash;yet, oh! not disfiguring&mdash;the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> serenity of
+the mind. It is then that life seems to weigh itself, and hosts of
+memories and imaginations, thrown into one scale, make the other kick
+the beam. You remember what you have felt, what you have dreamt; yet
+you dwell on the shadowy side, and lost hopes and death, such as you
+have seen it, seem to cover all things with a funeral pall.</p>
+
+<p>The time that was, is, and will be, presses upon you, and, standing
+the centre of a moving circle, you &#8220;slide giddily as the world reels.&#8221;
+You look to heaven, and would demand of the everlasting stars that the
+thoughts and passions which are your life may be as ever-living as
+they. You would demand of the blue empyrean that your mind might be as
+clear as it, and that the tears which gather in your eyes might be the
+shower that would drain from its profoundest depths the springs of
+weakness and sorrow. But where are the stars? Where the blue empyrean?
+A ceiling clouds that, and a thousand swift consuming lights supply
+the place of the eternal ones of heaven. The enthusiast suppresses her
+tears, crushes her opening thoughts, and.... But all is changed; some
+word, some look excite the lagging blood, laughter dances in the eyes,
+and the spirits rise proportionably high.</p>
+
+<p class="poem">The Queen is all for revels, her light heart,<br />
+Unladen from the heaviness of state,<br />
+Bestows itself upon delightfulness.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, February 8.</i>&mdash;Sometimes I awaken from my visionary monotony,
+and my thoughts flow until, as it is exquisite pain to stop the
+flowing of the blood, so is it painful to check expression and make
+the overflowing mind return to its usual channel. I feel a kind of
+tenderness to those, whoever they may be (even though strangers), who
+awaken the train and touch a chord so full of harmony and thrilling
+music, when I would tear the veil from this strange world, and pierce
+with eagle eyes beyond the sun; when every idea, strange and
+changeful, is another step in the ladder by which I would climb....</p>
+
+<p>Read <i>Emile</i>. Jane dines with me, walk with her. E. Trelawny and Jane
+in the evening. Trelawny tells us a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> number of amusing stories of his
+early life. Read third canto of <i>L&#8217;Inferno</i>.</p>
+
+<p>They say that Providence is shown by the extraction that may be ever
+made of good from evil, that we draw our virtues from our faults. So I
+am to thank God for making me weak. I might say, &#8220;Thy will be done,&#8221;
+but I cannot applaud the permitter of self-degradation, though dignity
+and superior wisdom arise from its bitter and burning ashes.</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday, February 9.</i>&mdash;Read <i>Emile</i>. Walk with Jane, and ride with
+T. Guiccioli. Dine with Jane. Taafe and T. Medwin call. I retire with
+E. Trelawny, who amuses me as usual by the endless variety of his
+adventures and conversation.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary to Mrs. Gisborne.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Pisa</span>, <i>9th February 1822</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Gisborne</span>&mdash;Not having heard from you, I am anxious about
+my desk. It would have been a great convenience to me if I could have
+received it at the beginning of the winter, but now I should like it
+as soon as possible. I hope that it is out of Ollier&#8217;s hands. I have
+before said what I would have done with it. If both desks can be sent
+without being opened, let them be sent; if not, give the small one
+back to Peacock. Get a key made for the larger, and send it, I entreat
+you, by the very next vessel. This key will cost half a guinea, and
+Ollier will not give you the money, but give me credit for it, I
+entreat you. I pray now let me have the desk as soon as possible.
+Shelley is now gone to Spezzia to get houses for our colony for the
+summer.</p>
+
+<p>It will be a large one, too large, I am afraid, for unity; yet I hope
+not. There will be Lord Byron, who will have a large and beautiful
+boat built on purpose by some English navy officers at Genoa. There
+will be the Countess Guiccioli and her brother; the Williams&#8217;, whom
+you know; Trelawny, a kind of half-Arab Englishman, whose life has
+been as changeful as that of Anastasius, and who recounts the
+adventures as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> eloquently and as well as the imagined Greek. He is
+clever; for his moral qualities I am yet in the dark; he is a strange
+web which I am endeavouring to unravel. I would fain learn if
+generosity is united to impetuousness, probity of spirit to his
+assumption of singularity and independence. He is 6 feet high, raven
+black hair, which curls thickly and shortly, like a Moor&#8217;s, dark gray
+expressive eyes, overhanging brows, upturned lips, and a smile which
+expresses good nature and kindheartedness. His shoulders are high,
+like an Oriental&#8217;s, his voice is monotonous, yet emphatic, and his
+language, as he relates the events of his life, energetic and simple,
+whether the tale be one of blood and horror, or of irresistible
+comedy. His company is delightful, for he excites me to think, and if
+any evil shade the intercourse, that time will unveil&mdash;the sun will
+rise or night darken all. There will be, besides, a Captain Roberts,
+whom I do not know, a very rough subject, I fancy,&mdash;a famous angler,
+etc. We are to have a small boat, and now that those first divine
+spring days are come (you know them well), the sky clear, the sun hot,
+the hedges budding, we sitting without a fire and the windows open, I
+begin to long for the sparkling waves, the olive-coloured hills and
+vine-shaded pergolas of Spezzia. However, it would be madness to go
+yet. Yet as <i>ceppo</i> was bad, we hope for a good <i>pasqua</i>, and if April
+prove fine, we shall fly with the swallows. The Opera here has been
+detestable. The English Sinclair is the <i>primo tenore</i>, and acquits
+himself excellently, but the Italians, after the first, have enviously
+selected such operas as give him little or nothing to do. We have
+English here, and some English balls and parties, to which I
+(<i>mirabile dictu</i>) go sometimes. We have Taafe, who bores us out of
+our senses when he comes, telling a young lady that her eyes shed
+flowers&mdash;why therefore should he send her any? I have sent my novel to
+Papa. I long to hear some news of it, as, with an author&#8217;s vanity, I
+want to see it in print, and hear the praises of my friends. I should
+like, as I said when you went away, a copy of <i>Matilda</i>. It might come
+out with the desk. I hope as the town fills to hear better news of
+your plans, we long to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> hear from you. What does Henry do? How many
+times has he been in love?&mdash;Ever yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">M. W. S.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley would like to see the review of the <i>Prometheus</i> in the
+<i>Quarterly</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><i>Thursday, February 14.</i>&mdash;Read Homer and <i>Anastasius</i>. Walk with the
+Williams&#8217; in the evening.... &#8220;Nothing of us but what must suffer a
+sea-change.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>This entry marks the day to which Mary referred in a letter written more
+than a year later, where she says&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>A year ago Trelawny came one afternoon in high spirits with news
+concerning the building of the boat, saying, &#8220;Oh! we must all embark,
+all live aboard; we will all &#8216;suffer a sea-change.&#8217;&#8221; And dearest
+Shelley was delighted with the quotation, saying that he would have it
+for the motto for his boat.</p></div>
+
+<p>Little did they think, in their lightness of spirit, that in another year
+the motto of the boat would serve for the inscription on Shelley&#8217;s tomb.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Journal, Monday, February 18.</i>&mdash;Read Homer. Walk with the Williams&#8217;.
+Jane, Trelawny, and Medwin in the evening.<a name='fna_46' id='fna_46' href='#f_46'><small>[46]</small></a></p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, February 25.</i>&mdash;What a mart this world is? Feelings,
+sentiments,&mdash;more invaluable than gold or precious stones is the coin,
+and what is bought? Contempt, discontent, and disappointment, unless,
+indeed, the mind be loaded with drearier memories. And what say the
+worldly to this? Use Spartan coin, pay away iron and lead alone, and
+store up your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> precious metal. But alas! from nothing, nothing comes,
+or, as all things seem to degenerate, give lead and you will receive
+clay,&mdash;the most contemptible of all lives is where you live in the
+world, and none of your passions or affections are brought into
+action. I am convinced I could not live thus, and as Sterne says that
+in solitude he would worship a tree, so in the world I should attach
+myself to those who bore the semblance of those qualities which I
+admire. But it is not this that I want; let me love the trees, the
+skies, and the ocean, and that all-encompassing spirit of which I may
+soon become a part,&mdash;let me in my fellow-creature love that which is,
+and not fix my affection on a fair form endued with imaginary
+attributes; where goodness, kindness, and talent are, let me love and
+admire them at their just rate, neither adorning nor diminishing, and
+above all, let me fearlessly descend into the remotest caverns of my
+own mind; carry the torch of self-knowledge into its dimmest recesses;
+but too happy if I dislodge any evil spirit, or enshrine a new deity
+in some hitherto uninhabited nook.</p>
+
+<p>Read <i>Wrongs of Women</i> and Homer. Clare departs. Walk with Jane and
+ride with T. Guiccioli. T. G. dines with us.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, February 28.</i>&mdash;Take leave of the Argyropolis. Walk with
+Shelley. Ride with T. Guiccioli. Read letters. Spend the evening at
+the Williams&#8217;. Trelawny there.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, March 1.</i>&mdash;An embassy. Walk. My first Greek lesson. Walk with
+Edward. In the evening work.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, March 3.</i>&mdash;A note to, and a visit from, Dr. Nott. Go to
+church. Walk. The Williams&#8217; and Trelawny to dinner.</p></div>
+
+<p>Mary&#8217;s experiments in the way of church-going, so new a thing in her
+experience, and so little in accordance with Shelley&#8217;s habits of thought
+and action, excited some surprise and comment. Hogg, Shelley&#8217;s early
+friend, who heard of it from Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> Gisborne, now in England, was
+especially shocked. In a letter to Mary, Mrs. Gisborne remarked, &#8220;Your
+friend Hogg is <i>molto scandalizzato</i> to hear of your weekly visits to the
+<i>piano di sotto</i>&#8221; (the services were held on the ground floor of the Tre
+Palazzi).</p>
+
+<p>The same letter asks for news of Emilia Viviani. Mrs. Gisborne had heard
+that she was married, and feared she had been sacrificed to a man whom she
+describes as &#8220;that insipid, sickening Italian mortal, Danieli the lawyer.&#8221;
+She proceeds to say&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">We invited Varley one evening to meet Hogg, who was curious to see a
+man really believing in astrology in the nineteenth century. Varley,
+as usual, was not sparing of his predictions. We talked of Shelley
+without mentioning his name; Varley was curious, and being informed by
+Hogg of his exact age, but describing his person as short and
+corpulent, and himself as a <i>bon vivant</i>, Varley amused us with the
+following remarks: &#8220;Your friend suffered from ill-fortune in May or
+June 1815. Vexatious affairs on the 2d and 14th of June, or perhaps
+latter end of May 1820. The following year, disturbance about a lady.
+Again, last April, at 10 at night, or at noon, disturbance about a
+bouncing stout lady, and others. At six years of age, noticed by
+ladies and gentlemen for learning. In July 1799, beginning of charges
+made against him. In September 1800, at noon, or dusk, very violent
+charges. Scrape at fourteen years of age. Eternal warfare against
+parents and public opinion, and a great blow-up every seven years till
+death,&#8221; etc. etc. <i>Is all this true?</i></p>
+
+<p>Not a little amused, Mary answered her friend as follows&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span><span class="smcap">Pisa</span>, <i>7th March 1822</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Gisborne</span>&mdash;I am very sorry that you have so much trouble
+with my commissions, and vainly, too! <i>ma che vuole?</i> Ollier will not
+give you the money, and we are, to tell you the truth, too poor at
+present to send you a cheque upon our banker; two or three
+circumstances having caused</p>
+
+<p class="poem">That climax of all human ills,<br />
+The inflammation of our weekly bills.</p>
+
+<p>But far more than that, we have not touched a quattrino of our
+Christmas quarter, since debts in England and other calls swallowed it
+entirely up. For the present, therefore, we must dispense with those
+things I asked you for. As for the desk, we received last post from
+Ollier (without a line) the bill of lading that he talks of, and, <i>si
+Dio vuole</i>, we shall receive it safe; the vessel in which they were
+shipped is not yet arrived. The worst of keeping on with Ollier
+(though it is the best, I believe, after all) is that you will never
+be able to make anything of his accounts, until you can compare the
+number of copies in hand with his account of their sale. As for my
+novel, I shipped it off long ago to my father, telling him to make the
+best of it; and by the way in which he answered my letter, I fancy he
+thinks he can make something of it. This is much better than Ollier,
+for I should never have got a penny from him; and, moreover, he is a
+very bad bookseller to publish with&mdash;<i>ma basta poi</i>, with all these
+<i>seccaturas</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Poor dear Hunt, you will have heard by this time of the disastrous
+conclusion of his third embarkment; he is to try a third time in
+April, and if he does not succeed then, we must say that the sea is
+<i>un vero precipizio</i>, and let him try land. By the bye, why not
+consult Varley on the result? I have tried the <i>Sors Homeri</i> and the
+<i>Sors Virgilii</i>; the first says (I will write this Greek better, but I
+thought that Mr. Gisborne could read the Romaic writing, and I now
+quite forget what it was)&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">&#8125;&#919;&#955;&#8061;&#956;&#951;&#957;, &#964;&#949;&#8055;&#969;&#962; &#956;&#959;&#953; &#7936;&#948;&#949;&#955;&#966;&#949;&#8056;&#957;
+&#7940;&#955;&#955;&#959;&#962; &#7956;&#960;&#949;&#966;&#957;&#949;&#957;.<br />
+&#8033;&#962; &#948;&#8125;&#8001;&#960;&#8057;&#964;&#8125; &#8125;&#921;&#945;&#963;&#8055;&#969;&#957;&#953;
+&#7952;&#971;&#960;&#955;&#8057;&#954;&#945;&#956;&#959;&#962; &#916;&#951;&#956;&#8053;&#964;&#951;&#961;.<br />
+&#916;&#959;&#965;&#961;&#8049;&#964;&#949;&#959;&#957; &#956;&#8051;&#947;&#945;&#957; &#7989;&#960;&#960;&#959;&#957;, &#8005;&#952;&#8125;
+&#7957;&#953;&#945;&#964;&#959; &#960;&#8049;&#957;&#964;&#949;&#962; &#7940;&#961;&#953;&#963;&#964;&#959;&#953;.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span>Which first seems to say that he will come, though his brother may be
+prosecuted for a libel. Of the second, I can make neither head nor
+tail; and the third is as oracularly obscure as one could wish, for
+who these great people are who sat in a wooden horse, <i>chi lo sa</i>?
+Virgil, except the first line, which is unfavourable, is as
+enigmatical as Homer&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">Fulgores nunc horrificos, sonitumque, metumque<br />
+Tum leves calamos, et ras&aelig; hastilia virg&aelig;<br />
+Connexosque angues, ipsamque in pectore div&aelig;.</p>
+
+<p>But to speak of predictions or anteductions, some of Varley&#8217;s are
+curious enough: &#8220;Ill-fortune in May or June 1815.&#8221; No; it was then
+that he arranged his income; there was no ill except health, <i>al
+solito</i>, at that time. The particular days of the 2d and 14th of June
+1820 were not ill, but the whole time was disastrous. It was then we
+were alarmed by Paolo&#8217;s attack and disturbance. About a lady in the
+winter of last year, enough, God knows! Nothing particular about a fat
+bouncing lady at 10 at night: and indeed things got more quiet in
+April. In July 1799 Shelley was only seven years of age. &#8220;A great
+blow-up every seven years.&#8221; Shelley is not at home; when he returns I
+will ask him what happened when he was fourteen. In his twenty-second
+year we made our <i>scappatura</i>; at twenty-eight and twenty-nine, a good
+deal of discomfort on a certain point, but it hardly amounted to a
+blow-up. Pray ask Varley also about me.</p>
+
+<p>So Hogg is shocked that, for good neighbourhood&#8217;s sake, I visited the
+<i>piano di sotto</i>; let him reassure himself, since instead of a weekly,
+it was only a monthly visit; in fact, after going three times I stayed
+away until I heard he was going away. He preached against atheism,
+and, they said, against Shelley. As he invited me himself to come,
+this appeared to me very impertinent; so I wrote to him, to ask him
+whether he intended any personal allusion, but he denied the charge
+most entirely. This affair, as you may guess, among the English at
+Pisa made a great noise; the gossip here is of course out of all
+bounds, and some people have given them something to talk about. I
+have seen little of it all; but that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> which I have seen makes me long
+most eagerly for some sea-girt isle, where with Shelley, my babe, and
+books and horses, we may give the rest to the winds; this we shall not
+have for the present. Shelley is entangled with Lord Byron, who is in
+a terrible fright lest he should desert him. We shall have boats, and
+go somewhere on the sea-coast, where, I daresay, we shall spend our
+time agreeably enough, for I like the Williams&#8217; exceedingly, though
+there my list begins and ends.</p>
+
+<p>Emilia married Biondi; we hear that she leads him and his mother (to
+use a vulgarism) a devil of a life. The conclusion of our friendship
+(<i>a la Italiana</i>) puts me in mind of a nursery rhyme, which runs
+thus&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">As I was going down Cranbourne lane,<br />
+Cranbourne lane was dirty,<br />
+And there I met a pretty maid,<br />
+Who dropt to me a curtsey;<br />
+<br />
+I gave her cakes, I gave her wine,<br />
+I gave her sugar-candy,<br />
+But oh! the little naughty girl,<br />
+She asked me for some brandy.</p>
+
+<p>Now turn &#8220;Cranbourne Lane&#8221; into Pisan acquaintances, which I am sure
+are dirty enough, and &#8220;brandy&#8221; into that wherewithal to buy brandy
+(and that no small sum <i>per&ograve;</i>), and you have the whole story of
+Shelley&#8217;s Italian Platonics. We now know, indeed, few of those whom we
+knew last year. Pacchiani is at Prato; Mavrocordato in Greece; the
+Argyropolis in Florence; and so the world slides. Taafe is still
+here&mdash;the butt of Lord Byron&#8217;s quizzing, and the poet laureate of
+Pisa. On the occasion of a young lady&#8217;s birthday he wrote&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">Eyes that shed a thousand flowers!<br />
+Why should flowers be sent to you?<br />
+Sweetest flowers of heavenly bowers,<br />
+Love and friendship, are what are due.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><strong><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span><span class="spacer">&#183;</span></strong></p>
+
+<p>After some divine <i>Italian</i> weather, we are now enjoying some fine
+English weather; <i>cio&egrave;</i>, it does not rain, but not a ray can pierce
+the web aloft.&mdash;Most truly yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary W. S.</span></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary Shelley to Mrs. Hunt.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><i>5th March 1822.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Marianne</span>&mdash;I hope that this letter will find you quite well,
+recovering from your severe attack, and looking towards your haven
+Italy with best hopes. I do indeed believe that you will find a relief
+here from your many English cares, and that the winds which waft you
+will sing the requiem to all your ills. It was indeed unfortunate that
+you encountered such weather on the very threshold of your journey,
+and as the wind howled through the long night, how often did I think
+of you! At length it seemed as if we should never, never meet; but I
+will not give way to such a presentiment. We enjoy here divine
+weather. The sun hot, too hot, with a freshness and clearness in the
+breeze that bears with it all the delights of spring. The hedges are
+budding, and you should see me and my friend Mrs. Williams poking
+about for violets by the sides of dry ditches; she being herself&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="poem">A violet by a mossy stone<br />
+Half hidden from the eye.</p>
+
+<p>Yesterday a countryman seeing our dilemma, since the ditch was not
+quite dry, insisted on gathering them for us, and when we resisted,
+saying that we had no <i>quattrini</i> (<i>i.e.</i> farthings, being the generic
+name for all money), he indignantly exclaimed, <i>Oh! se lo faccio per
+interesse!</i> How I wish you were with us in our rambles! Our good
+cavaliers flock together, and as they do not like <i>fetching a walk
+with the absurd womankind</i>, Jane (<i>i.e.</i> Mrs. Williams) and I are off
+together, and talk morality and pluck violets by the way. I look
+forward to many duets with this lady and Hunt. She has a very pretty
+voice, and a taste and ear for music which is almost miraculous. The
+harp is her favourite instrument; but we have none, and a very bad
+piano; however, as it is, we pass very pleasant evenings, though I can
+hardly bear to hear her sing &#8220;Donne l&#8217;amore&#8221;; it transports me so
+entirely back to your little parlour at Hampstead&mdash;and I see the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span>
+piano, the bookcase, the prints, the casts&mdash;and hear Mary&#8217;s
+<i>far-ha-ha-a</i>!</p>
+
+<p>We are in great uncertainty as to where we shall spend the summer.
+There is a beautiful bay about fifty miles off, and as we have
+resolved on the sea, Shelley bought a boat. We wished very much to go
+there; perhaps we shall still, but as yet we can find but one house;
+but as we are a colony &#8220;which moves altogether or not at all,&#8221; we have
+not yet made up our minds. The apartments which we have prepared for
+you in Lord Byron&#8217;s house will be very warm for the summer; and indeed
+for the two hottest months I should think that you had better go into
+the country. Villas about here are tolerably cheap, and they are
+perfect paradises. Perhaps, as it was with me, Italy will not strike
+you as so divine at first; but each day it becomes dearer and more
+delightful; the sun, the flowers, the air, all is more sweet and more
+balmy than in the <i>Ultima Thule</i> that you inhabit.</p>
+
+<p class="signa">M. W. S.</p></div>
+
+<p>The journal for the next few weeks has nothing eventful to record. The
+preceding letter to Mrs. Hunt gives a simple and pleasing picture of their
+daily life. Perhaps Mary had never been quite so happy before; she wrote
+to the Hunts that she thought she grew younger. Both she and Shelley were
+occasionally ailing, and Shelley&#8217;s letters show that his spirits suffered
+depression at times, still, in this respect as well as in health, he was
+better than he had been in any former spring. The proximity of Byron and
+his circle was not, however, favourable to inspiration or to literary
+composition. Byron&#8217;s temperament acted as a damper to enthusiasm in
+others, and Shelley, though his estimate of Byron&#8217;s genius was very high,
+was perpetually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> jarred and crossed by his worldliness and his moral
+shallowness and vulgarity. He invariably, acted, however, as Byron&#8217;s true
+and disinterested friend; and Byron was fully aware of the value of his
+friendship and of his literary help and criticism.</p>
+
+<p>Trelawny, to whom Byron had taken kindly enough, estimated the difference
+in the moral worth of the two poets with singular justice.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;I believed in many things then, and believe in some now,&#8221; he wrote,
+more than five and thirty years afterwards: &#8220;I could not sympathise
+with Byron, who believed in nothing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>His friendship for Byron, nevertheless, was to be loyal and lasting. But
+his favourite resort in these Pisan days was the &#8220;hospitable and cheerful
+abode of the Shelleys.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;There,&#8221; he says, &#8220;I found those sympathies and sentiments which the
+Pilgrim denounced as illusions, believed in as the only realities.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>At Byron&#8217;s social gatherings&mdash;riding-parties or dinner-parties&mdash;he made a
+point of getting Shelley if he could; and Shelley was very compliant,
+although the society of which Byron was the nucleus was neither congenial
+nor interesting to him, and he always took the first good opportunity of
+escaping. Daily intercourse of this kind tended gradually to estrange
+rather than unite the two poets: by accentuating differences it brought
+into evidence that gulf between their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> natures which, in spite of the one
+touch of kinship that certainly existed, was equally impassable by one and
+by the other. Besides, the subject of Clare and Allegra, never far below
+the surface, would occasionally come up, and this was a sore point on both
+sides. As has already been said, Byron appreciated Shelley, though he did
+not sympathise with him. In after days he bore public testimony to the
+purity and unselfishness of Shelley&#8217;s character and to the upright and
+disinterested motives which actuated him in all he did. But his respect
+for Shelley was not so strong as his antipathy to Clare, and Shelley&#8217;s
+feeling towards her was regarded by him with a cynical sneer which he had
+no care to hide, and of which its object could not always be unconscious.
+It is not wonderful that at times there swept across Shelley&#8217;s mind, like
+a black cloud, the conviction that neither a sense of honour nor justice
+restrained Byron from the basest insinuations. And then again this
+suspicion would pass away as too dreadful to be entertained.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Clare, in the pursuit of her newly-adopted profession, was
+thinking of going to Vienna, and she longed for a sight of her child
+first. She had been unusually long, or she fancied so, without news of
+Allegra, and she was growing desperately anxious,&mdash;with only too good
+cause, as the event showed. She wrote to Byron, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>entreating him to arrange
+for a visit or an interview. Byron took no notice of her letters. The
+Shelleys dared not annoy him unnecessarily on the subject, as he had been
+heard to threaten if they did so to immure Allegra in some secret convent
+where no one could get at her or even hear of her. Clare, working herself
+up into a state of half-frenzied excitement, sent them letter after
+letter, suggesting and urging wild plans (which Shelley was to realise)
+for carrying off the child by armed force; indeed, one of her schemes
+seems to have been to take advantage of the projected interview, if
+granted, for putting this design into execution. Some such proposed breach
+of faith must have been the occasion of Shelley&#8217;s answering her&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">I know not what to think of the state of your mind, or what to fear
+for you. Your late plan about Allegra seems to me in its present form
+pregnant with irremediable infamy to all the actors in it except yourself.</p>
+
+<p>He did not think that in her present excited mental condition she was fit
+to go to Vienna, and he entreated her to postpone the idea. His advice,
+often repeated in different words, was, that she should not lose herself
+in distant and uncertain plans, but &#8220;systematise and simplify&#8221; her
+motions, at least for the present, and, if she felt in the least disposed,
+that she should come and stay with them&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">If you like, come and look for houses with me in our boat; it might
+distract your mind.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span>He and Mary had resolved to quit Pisa as soon as the weather made it
+desirable to do so; but their plans and their anxieties were alike
+suspended by a temporary excitement of which Mary&#8217;s account is given in
+the following letter&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Shelley to Mrs. Gisborne.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Pisa</span>, <i>6th April 1822</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Gisborne</span>&mdash;Not many days after I had written to you
+concerning the fate which ever pursues us at spring-tide, a
+circumstance happened which showed that we were not forgotten this
+year. Although, indeed, now that it is all over, I begin to fear that
+the King of Gods and men will not consider it a sufficiently heavy
+visitation, although for a time it threatened to be frightful enough.
+Two Sundays ago, Lord Byron, Shelley, Trelawny, Captain Hay, Count
+Gamba, and Taafe were returning from their usual evening ride, when,
+near the Porta della Piazza, they were passed by a soldier who
+galloped through the midst of them knocking up against Taafe. This
+nice little gentleman exclaimed, &#8220;Shall we endure this man&#8217;s
+insolence?&#8221; Lord Byron replied, &#8220;No! we will bring him to an account,&#8221;
+and Shelley (whose blood always boils at any insolence offered by a
+soldier) added, &#8220;As you please!&#8221; so they put spurs to their horses
+(<i>i.e.</i> all but Taafe, who remained quietly behind), followed and
+stopped the man, and, fancying that he was an officer, demanded his
+name and address, and gave their cards. The man who, I believe, was
+half drunk, replied only by all the oaths and abuse in which the
+Italian language is so rich. He ended by saying, &#8220;If I liked I could
+draw my sabre and cut you all to pieces, but as it is, I only arrest
+you,&#8221; and he called out to the guards at the gate <i>arrestategli</i>. Lord
+Byron laughed at this, and saying <i>arrestateci pure</i>, gave spurs to
+his horse and rode towards the gate, followed by the rest. Lord Byron
+and Gamba passed, but before the others could, the soldier got under
+the gateway, called on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> the guard to stop them, and drawing his sabre,
+began to cut at them. It happened that I and the Countess Guiccioli
+were in a carriage close behind and saw it all, and you may guess how
+frightened we were when we saw our cavaliers cut at, they being
+totally unarmed. Their only safety was, that the field of battle being
+so confined, they got close under the man, and were able to arrest his
+arm. Captain Hay was, however, wounded in his face, and Shelley thrown
+from his horse. I cannot tell you how it all ended, but after cutting
+and slashing a little, the man sheathed his sword and rode on, while
+the others got from their horses to assist poor Hay, who was faint
+from loss of blood. Lord Byron, when he had passed the gate, rode to
+his own house, got a sword-stick from one of his servants, and was
+returning to the gate, Lung&#8217; Arno, when he met this man, who held out
+his hand saying, <i>Siete contento?</i> Lord Byron replied, &#8220;No! I must
+know your name, that I may require satisfaction of you.&#8221; The soldier
+said, <i>Il mio nome &egrave; Masi, sono sargente maggiore</i>, etc. etc. While
+they were talking, a servant of Lord Byron&#8217;s came and took hold of the
+bridle of the sergeant&#8217;s horse. Lord Byron ordered him to let it go,
+and immediately the man put his horse to a gallop, but, passing Casa
+Lanfranchi, one of Lord Byron&#8217;s servants thought that he had killed
+his master and was running away; determining that he should not go
+scot-free, he ran at him with a pitchfork and wounded him. The man
+rode on a few paces, cried out, <i>Sono ammazzato</i>, and fell, was
+carried to the hospital, the Misericordia bell ringing. We were all
+assembled at Casa Lanfranchi, nursing our wounded man, and poor
+Teresa, from the excess of her fright, was worse than any, when what
+was our consternation when we heard that the man&#8217;s wound was
+considered mortal! Luckily none but ourselves knew who had given the
+wound; it was said by the wise Pisani, to have been one of Lord
+Byron&#8217;s servants, set on by his padrone, and they pitched upon a poor
+fellow merely because <i>aveva lo sguardo fiero, quanto un assassino</i>.
+For some days Masi continued in great danger, but he is now
+recovering. As long as it was thought he would die, the Government did
+nothing; but now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> that he is nearly well, they have imprisoned two
+men, one of Lord Byron&#8217;s servants (the one with the <i>sguardo fiero</i>),
+and the other a servant of Teresa&#8217;s, who was behind our carriage, both
+perfectly innocent, but they have been kept <i>in segreto</i> these ten
+days, and God knows when they will be let out. What think you of this?
+Will it serve for our spring adventure? It is blown over now, it is
+true, but our fate has, in general, been in common with Dame Nature,
+and March winds and April showers have brought forth May flowers.</p>
+
+<p>You have no notion what a ridiculous figure Taafe cut in all this&mdash;he
+kept far behind during the danger, but the next day he wished to take
+all the honour to himself, vowed that all Pisa talked of him alone,
+and coming to Lord Byron said, &#8220;My Lord, if you do not dare ride out
+to-day, I will alone.&#8221; But the next day he again changed, he was
+afraid of being turned out of Tuscany, or of being obliged to fight
+with one of the officers of the sergeant&#8217;s regiment, of neither of
+which things there was the slightest danger, so he wrote a declaration
+to the Governor to say that he had nothing to do with it; so
+embroiling himself with Lord Byron, he got between Scylla and
+Charybdis, from which he has not yet extricated himself; for
+ourselves, we do not fear any ulterior consequences.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="right"><i>10th April.</i></p>
+
+<p>We received <i>Hellas</i> to-day, and the bill of lading. Shelley is well
+pleased with the former, though there are some mistakes. The only
+danger would arise from the vengeance of Masi, but the moment he is
+able to move, he is to be removed to another town; he is a <i>pessimo
+soggetto</i>, being the crony of Soldaini, Rosselmini, and Augustini,
+Pisan names of evil fame, which, perhaps, you may remember. There is
+only one consolation in all this, that if it be our fate to suffer, it
+is more agreeable, and more safe to suffer in company with five or six
+than alone. Well! after telling you this long story, I must relate our
+other news. And first, the Greek Ali Pashaw is dead, and his head sent
+to Constantinople; the reception of it was celebrated there by the
+massacre of four thousand Greeks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> The latter, however, get on. The
+Turkish fleet of 25 sail of the line-of-war vessels, and 40
+transports, endeavoured to surprise the Greek fleet in its winter
+quarters; finding them prepared, they bore away for Lante, and pursued
+by the Greeks, took refuge in the bay of Naupacto. Here they first
+blockaded them, and obtained a complete victory. All the soldiers on
+board the transports, in endeavouring to land, were cut to pieces, and
+the fleet taken or destroyed. I heard something about Hellenists which
+greatly pleased me. When any one asks of the peasants of the Morea
+what news there is, and if they have had any victory, they reply: &#8220;I
+do not know, but for us it is &#951; &#964;&#945;&#957;, &#951; &#949;&#960;&#953; &#964;&#945;&#962;,&#8221; being their
+Doric pronunciation of &#951; &#964;&#945;&#957;, &#951; &#949;&#960;&#953; &#964;&#951;&#962;, the speech of the
+Spartan mother, on presenting his shield to her son; &#8220;With this or on
+this.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>I wish, my dear Mrs. Gisborne, that you would send the first part of
+this letter, addressed to Mr. W. Godwin at Nash&#8217;s, Esq., Dover Street.
+I wish him to have an account of the fray, and you will thus save me
+the trouble of writing it over again, for what with writing and
+talking about it, I am quite tired. In a late letter of mine to my
+father, I requested him to send you <i>Matilda</i>. I hope that he has
+complied with my desire, and, in that case, that you will get it
+copied and send it to me by the first opportunity, perhaps by Hunt, if
+he comes at all. I do not mention commissions to you, for although
+wishing much for the things about which I wrote [we have], for the
+present, no money to spare. We wish very much to hear from you again,
+and to hear if there are any hopes of your getting on in your plans,
+what Henry is doing, and how you continue to like England. The months
+of February and March were with us as hot as an English June. In the
+first days of April we have had some very cold weather; so that we are
+obliged to light fires again. Shelley has been much better in health
+this winter than any other since I have known him, Pisa certainly
+agrees with him exceedingly well, which is its only merit, in my eyes.
+I wish fate had bound us to Naples instead. Percy is quite well; he
+begins to talk, Italian only now, and to call things <i>bello</i> and
+<i>buono</i>, but the droll thing is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> that he is right about the genders.
+A silk <i>vestito</i> is <i>bello</i>, but a new <i>frusta</i> is <i>bella</i>. He is a
+fine boy, full of life, and very pretty. Williams is very well, and
+they are getting on very well. Mrs. Williams is a miracle of economy,
+and, as Mrs. Godwin used to call it, makes both ends meet with great
+comfort to herself and others. Medwin is gone to Rome; we have heaps
+of the gossip of a petty town this winter, being just in the <i>coterie</i>
+where it was all carried on; but now <i>Grazie a Messer Domenedio</i>, the
+English are almost all gone, and we, being left alone, all subjects of
+discord and clacking cease. You may conceive what a <i>bisbiglio</i> our
+adventure made. The Pisans were all enraged because the <i>maledetti
+inglesi</i> were not punished; yet when the gentlemen returned from their
+ride the following day (busy fate) an immense crowd was assembled
+before Casa Lanfranchi, and they all took off their hats to them.
+Adieu. <i>State bene e felice.</i> Best remembrances to Mr. Gisborne, and
+compliments to Henry, who will remember Hay as one of the Maremma
+hunters; he is a friend of Lord Byron&#8217;s.&mdash;Yours ever truly,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary W. S.</span></p></div>
+
+<p>This affair, and the consequent inquiry and examination of witnesses in
+connection with it took up several days, on one of which Mary and Countess
+Guiccioli were under examination for five hours.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime Byron decided to go to Leghorn for his summer boating;
+whereupon Shelley wrote and definitively proposed to Clare that she should
+accompany his party to Spezzia, promising her quiet and privacy, and
+immunity from annoyance, while she bided her time with regard to Allegra.
+Clare accepted the offer, and joined them at Pisa on the 15th of April in
+the expectation of starting very shortly. It turned out, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span>however, that no
+suitable houses were, after all, to be had on the coast. This was an
+unexpected disappointment, and on the 23d she and the Williams&#8217; went off
+to Spezzia for another search. They were hardly on their way when letters
+were received by Shelley and Mary with the grievous news that Allegra had
+died of typhus fever in the convent of Bagnacavallo.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+<p class="title"><span class="smcap">April-July 1882</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Evil news. Not well.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>These few words are Mary&#8217;s record of this frightful blow. She was again in
+delicate health, suffering from the same depressing symptoms as before
+Percy&#8217;s birth, and for a like reason.</p>
+
+<p>No wonder she was made downright ill by the shock, and by the sickening
+apprehension of the scene to follow when Clare should hear the news.</p>
+
+<p>On the next day but one&mdash;the 25th of April&mdash;the travellers returned.</p>
+
+<p>Williams says, in his diary for that day&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">Meet S., his face bespoke his feelings. C.&#8217;s child was dead, and he
+had the office to break it to her, or rather not to do so; but,
+fearful of the news reaching her ears, to remove her instantly from this place.</p>
+
+<p>Shelley could not tell Clare at once. Not while they were in Pisa, and
+with Byron close by. One, unfurnished, house was to be had, the Casa
+Magni, in the Bay of Lerici. Thither, on the chance of getting it, they
+must go, and instantly. Mary&#8217;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> indisposition must be ignored; she must
+undertake the negotiations for the house. Within twenty-four hours she was
+off to Spezzia, with Clare and little Percy, escorted by Trelawny; poor
+Clare quite unconscious of the burden on her friends&#8217; minds. Shelley
+remained behind another day, to pack up the necessary furniture; but, on
+the 27th, he with the whole Williams family left Pisa for Lerici. Thence,
+while waiting for the furniture to arrive by sea, he wrote to Mary at
+Spezzia.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Shelley to Mary.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Lerici</span>, <i>Sunday, 28th April 1822</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dearest Mary</span>&mdash;I am this moment arrived at Lerici, where I am
+necessarily detained, waiting the furniture, which left Pisa last
+night at midnight, and as the sea has been calm and the wind fair, I
+may expect them every moment. It would not do to leave affairs here in
+an <i>impiccio</i>, great as is my anxiety to see you. How are you, my best
+love? How have you sustained the trials of the journey? Answer me this
+question, and how my little babe and Clare are. Now to business&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Is the Magni House taken? if not, pray occupy yourself instantly in
+finishing the affair, even if you are obliged to go to Sarzana, and
+send a messenger to me to tell me of your success. I, of course,
+cannot leave Lerici, to which port the boats (for we were obliged to
+take two) are directed. But <i>you</i> can come over in the same boat that
+brings you this letter, and return in the evening. I hear that
+Trelawny is still with you. Tell Clare that, as I must probably in a
+few days return to Pisa for the affair of the lawsuit, I have brought
+her box with me, thinking she might be in want of some of its
+contents.</p>
+
+<p>I ought to say that I do not think there is accommodation for you all
+at this inn; and that, even if there were, you would be better off at
+Spezzia; but if the Magni House is taken, then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> there is no possible
+reason why you should not take a row over in the boat that will bring
+this; but do not keep the men long. I am anxious to hear from you on
+every account.&mdash;Ever yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">S.</p></div>
+
+<p>Mary&#8217;s answer was that she had concluded for Casa Magni, but that no other
+house was to be had in all that neighbourhood. It was in a neglected
+condition, and not very roomy or convenient; but, such as it was, it had
+to accommodate the Williams&#8217;, as well as the Shelleys, and Clare.
+Considerable difficulty was experienced by Shelley in obtaining leave for
+the landing of the furniture; this obstacle got over, they at last took
+possession.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Edward Williams&#8217; Journal.</span></p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, May 1.</i>&mdash;Cloudy, with rain. Came to Casa Magni after
+breakfast, the Shelleys having contrived to give us rooms. Without
+them, heaven knows what we should have done. Employed all day putting
+the things away. All comfortably settled by 4. Passed the evening in
+talking over our folly and our troubles.</p></div>
+
+<p>The worst trouble, however, was still impending. Finding how crowded and
+uncomfortable they were likely to be, Clare, after a day or two, decided
+that it was best for herself and for every one that she should return to
+Florence, and announced her intention accordingly. Compelled by the
+circumstances, Shelley then disclosed to her the true state of the case.
+Her grief was excessive, but was, after the first, succeeded by a calmness
+unusual in her and surprising to her friends;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> a reaction from the fever
+of suspense and torment in which she had lived for weeks past, and which
+were even a harder strain on her powers of endurance than the truth,
+grievous though that was, putting an end to all hope as well as to all
+fear. For the present she remained at the Villa Magni.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">The ground floor of this habitation was appropriated, as is often done
+in Italy, for stowing the implements and produce of the land, as rent
+is paid in kind there. In the autumn you find casks of wine, jars of
+oil, tools, wood, occasionally carts, and, near the sea, boats and
+fishing-nets. Over this floor were a large saloon and four bedrooms
+(which had once been whitewashed), and nothing more; there was an
+out-building for cooking, and a place for the servants to eat and
+sleep in. The Williams had one room, and Shelley and his wife occupied
+two more, facing each other.<a name='fna_47' id='fna_47' href='#f_47'><small>[47]</small></a></p>
+
+<p>Facing the sea, and almost over it, a verandah or open terrace ran the
+whole length of the building; it was over the projecting ground floor, and
+level with the inhabited story.</p>
+
+<p>The surrounding scenery was magnificent, but wild to the last degree, and
+there was something unearthly in the perpetual moaning and howling of
+winds and waves. Poor Mary now began to feel the ill effects of her
+enforced over-exertions. She became very unwell, suffering from utter
+prostration of strength and from hysterical affections. Rest, quiet, and
+freedom from worry were essential to her condition, but none of these
+could she have, nor even sleep at night. The absence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> of comfort and
+privacy, added to the great difficulty of housekeeping, and the melancholy
+with which Clare&#8217;s misfortune had infected the whole party, were all very
+unfavourable to her.</p>
+
+<p>After staying for three weeks, Clare returned for a short visit to
+Florence. Shelley&#8217;s letters to her during her absence afford occasional
+glimpses, from which it is easy to infer more, into the state of affairs
+at Casa Magni. Mrs. Williams was &#8220;by no means acquiescent in the present
+system of things.&#8221; The plan of having all possessions in common does not
+work well in the kitchen; the respective servants of the two families were
+always quarrelling and taking each other&#8217;s things. Jane, who was a good
+housekeeper, had the defects of her qualities, and &#8220;pined for her own
+house and saucepans.&#8221; &#8220;It is a pity,&#8221; remarks Shelley, &#8220;that any one so
+pretty and amiable should be so selfish.&#8221; Not that these matters troubled
+him much. Such little &#8220;squalls&#8221; gave way to calm, &#8220;in accustomed
+vicissitude&#8221; (to use his own words); and Mrs. Williams had far too much
+tact to dwell on domestic worries to him. His own nerves were for a time
+shaken and unstrung, but he recovered, and, after the first, was unusually
+well. He was in love with the wild, beautiful place, and with the life at
+sea; for to his boat he escaped whenever any little breezes ruffled the
+surface of domestic life so that its mirror no longer reflected his own
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span>unwontedly bright spirits. At first he and Williams had only the small
+flat-bottomed boat in which they had navigated the Arno and Serchio, but
+in a fortnight there arrived the little schooner which Captain Roberts had
+built for Shelley at Genoa, and then their content was perfect.</p>
+
+<p>For Mary no such escape from care and discomfort was open; she was too
+weak to go about much, and it is no wonder that, after the Williams&#8217;
+installation, she merely chronicles, &#8220;The rest of May a blank.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Williams&#8217; diary partly fills this blank; and it is so graphic in its
+exceeding simplicity that, though it has been printed before, portions may
+well be included here.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Extracts from Williams&#8217; Diary.</span></p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, May 2.</i>&mdash;Cloudy, with intervals of rain. Went out with
+Shelley in the boat&mdash;fish on the rocks&mdash;bad sport. Went in the evening
+after some wild ducks&mdash;saw nothing but sublime scenery, to which the
+grandeur of a storm greatly contributed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday, May 3.</i>&mdash;Fine. The captain of the port despatched a vessel
+for Shelley&#8217;s boat. Went to Lerici with S., being obliged to market
+there; the servant having returned from Sarzana without being able to
+procure anything.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, May 5.</i>&mdash;Fine. Kept awake the whole night by a heavy swell,
+which made a noise on the beach like the discharge of heavy artillery.
+Tried with Shelley to launch the small flat-bottomed boat through the
+surf; we succeeded in pushing it through, but shipped a sea on
+attempting to land. Walk to Lerici along the beach, by a winding path
+on the mountain&#8217;s side. Delightful evening,&mdash;the scenery most sublime.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span><i>Monday, May 6.</i>&mdash;Fine. Some heavy drops of rain fell to-day, without
+a cloud being visible. Made a sketch of the western side of the bay.
+Read a little. Walked with Jane up the mountain.</p>
+
+<p>After tea walking with Shelley on the terrace, and observing the
+effect of moonshine on the waters, he complained of being unusually
+nervous, and stopping short, he grasped me violently by the arm, and
+stared steadfastly on the white surf that broke upon the beach under
+our feet. Observing him sensibly affected, I demanded of him if he
+were in pain. But he only answered by saying, &#8220;There it is
+again&mdash;there&#8221;! He recovered after some time, and declared that he saw,
+as plainly as he then saw me, a naked child (Allegra) rise from the
+sea, and clap its hands as in joy, smiling at him. This was a trance
+that it required some reasoning and philosophy entirely to awaken him
+from, so forcibly had the vision operated on his mind. Our
+conversation, which had been at first rather melancholy, led to this;
+and my confirming his sensations, by confessing that I had felt the
+same, gave greater activity to his ever-wandering and lively
+imagination.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sunday, May 12.</i>&mdash;Cloudy and threatening weather. Wrote during the
+morning. Mr. Maglian called after dinner, and, while walking with him
+on the terrace, we discovered a strange sail coming round the point of
+Porto Venere, which proved at length to be Shelley&#8217;s boat. She had
+left Genoa on Thursday, but had been driven back by prevailing bad
+winds, a Mr. Heslop and two English seamen brought her round, and they
+speak most highly of her performances. She does, indeed, excite my
+surprise and admiration. Shelley and I walked to Lerici, and made a
+stretch off the land to try her, and I find she fetches whatever she
+looks at. In short, we have now a perfect plaything for the summer.</p>
+
+<p><i>Monday, May 13.</i>&mdash;Rain during night in torrents&mdash;a heavy gale of wind
+from S.W., and a surf running heavier than ever; at 4 gale unabated,
+violent squalls....</p>
+
+<p>... In the evening an electric arch forming in the clouds announces a
+heavy thunderstorm, if the wind lulls. Distant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> thunder&mdash;gale
+increases&mdash;a circle of foam surrounds the bay&mdash;dark, evening, and
+tempestuous, with flashes of lightning at intervals, which give us no
+hope of better weather. The learned in these things say, that it
+generally lasts three days when once it commences as this has done. We
+all feel as if we were on board ship&mdash;and the roaring of the sea
+brings this idea to us even in our beds.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, May 15.</i>&mdash;Fine and fresh breeze in puffs from the land.
+Jane and Mary consent to take a sail. Run down to Porto Venere and
+beat back at 1 o&#8217;clock. The boat sailed like a witch. After the late
+gale, the water is covered with purple nautili, or as the sailors call
+them, Portuguese men-of-war. After dinner Jane accompanied us to the
+point of the Magra; and the boat beat back in wonderful style.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, May 22.</i>&mdash;Fine, after a threatening night. After breakfast
+Shelley and I amused ourselves with trying to make a boat of canvas
+and reeds, as light and as small as possible. She is to be 8&#189; feet
+long, and 4&#189; broad....</p>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday, June 12.</i>&mdash;Launched the little boat, which answered our
+wishes and expectations. She is 86 lbs. English weight, and stows
+easily on board. Sailed in the evening, but were becalmed in the
+offing, and left there with a long ground swell, which made Jane
+little better than dead. Hoisted out our little boat and brought her
+on shore. Her landing attended by the whole village.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday, June 13.</i>&mdash;Fine. At 9 saw a vessel between the straits of
+Porto Venere, like a man-of-war brig. She proved to be the <i>Bolivar</i>,
+with Roberts and Trelawny on board, who are taking her round to
+Livorno. On meeting them we were saluted by six guns. Sailed together
+to try the vessels&mdash;in speed no chance with her, but I think we keep
+as good a wind. She is the most beautiful craft I ever saw, and will
+do more for her size. She costs Lord Byron &pound;750 clear off and ready
+for sea, with provisions and conveniences of every kind.</p></div>
+
+<p>In the midst of this happy life one anxiety there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> was, however, which
+pursued Shelley everywhere; and neither on shore nor at sea could he
+escape from it,&mdash;that of Godwin&#8217;s imminent ruin.</p>
+
+<p>The first of the letters which follow had reached Mary while still at
+Pisa. The next letter, and that of Mrs. Godwin were, at Shelley&#8217;s request,
+intercepted by Mrs. Mason and sent to him. He could not and would not show
+them to Mary, and wrote at last to Mrs. Godwin, to try and put a stop to
+them.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Godwin to Mary.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Skinner Street</span>, <i>19th April 1822</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Mary</span>&mdash;The die, so far as I am concerned, seems now to be
+cast, and all that remains is that I should entreat you to forget that
+you have a father in existence. Why should your prime of youthful
+vigour be tarnished and made wretched by what relates to me? I have
+lived to the full age of man in as much comfort as can reasonably be
+expected to fall to the lot of a human being. What signifies what
+becomes of the few wretched years that remain?</p>
+
+<p>For the same reason, I think I ought for the future to drop writing to
+you. It is impossible that my letters can give you anything but
+unmingled pain. A few weeks more, and the formalities which still
+restrain the successful claimant will be over, and my prospects of
+tranquillity must, as I believe, be eternally closed.&mdash;Farewell,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">William Godwin</span>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Godwin to Mary.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Skinner Street</span>, <i>3d May 1822</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mary</span>&mdash;I wrote to you a fortnight ago, and professed my intention
+of not writing again. I certainly will not write when the result shall
+be to give pure, unmitigated pain. It is the questionable shape of
+what I have to communicate that still thrusts the pen into my hand.
+This day we are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> compelled, by summary process, to leave the house we
+live in, and to hide our heads in whatever alley will receive us. If
+we can compound with our creditor, and he seems not unwilling to
+accept &pound;400 (I have talked with him on the subject), we may emerge
+again. Our business, if freed from this intolerable burthen, is more
+than ever worth keeping.</p>
+
+<p>But all this would, perhaps, have failed in inducing me to resume the
+pen, but for <i>one extraordinary accident</i>. Wednesday, 1st May, was the
+day when the last legal step was taken against me; and Wednesday
+morning, a few hours before this catastrophe, Willats, the man who,
+three or four years before, lent Shelley &pound;2000 at two for one, called
+on me to ask whether Shelley wanted any more money on the same terms.
+What does this mean? In the contemplation of such a coincidence, I
+could almost grow superstitious. But, alas! I fear&mdash;I fear&mdash;I am a
+drowning man, catching at a straw.&mdash;Ever most affectionately, your
+father,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">William Godwin</span>.</p>
+
+<p>Please to direct your letters, till you hear further, to the care of
+Mr. Monro, No. 60 Skinner Street.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Mason to Shelley.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><i>May 1822.</i></p>
+
+<p>I send you in return for Godwin&#8217;s letter one still worse, because I
+think it has more the appearance of truth. I was desired to convey it
+to Mary, but that I should not think right. At the same time, I don&#8217;t
+well know how you can conceal all this affair from her; they really
+seem to want assistance at present, for their being turned out of the
+house is a serious evil. I rejoice in your good health, to which I
+have no doubt the boat and the Williams&#8217; much contribute, and wish
+there may be no prospect of its being disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>Mary ought to know what is said of the novel, and how can she know
+that without all the rest? You will contrive what is best. In the part
+of the letter which I do send, she (Mrs. Godwin) adds, that at this
+moment Mr. Godwin does not offer the novel to any bookseller, lest his
+actual situation might make it be supposed that it would be sold
+cheap.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> Mrs. Godwin also wishes to correspond directly with Mrs.
+Shelley, but this I shall not permit; she says Godwin&#8217;s health is much
+the worse for all this affair.</p>
+
+<p>I was astonished at seeing Clare walk in on Tuesday evening, and I
+have not a spare bed now in the house, the children having outgrown
+theirs, and been obliged to occupy that which I had formerly; she
+proposed going to an inn, but preferred sleeping on a sofa, where I
+made her as comfortable as I could, which is but little so; however,
+she is satisfied. I rejoice to see that she has not suffered so much
+as you expected, and understand now her former feelings better than at
+first. When there is nothing to hope or fear, it is natural to be
+calm. I wish she had some determined project, but her plans seem as
+unsettled as ever, and she does not see half the reasons for
+separating herself from your society that really exist. I regret to
+perceive her great repugnance to Paris, which I believe to be the
+place best adapted to her. If she had but the temptation of good
+letters of introduction!&mdash;but I have no means of obtaining them for
+her&mdash;she intends, I believe, to go to Florence to-morrow, and to
+return to your habitation in a week, but talks of not staying the
+whole summer. I regret the loss of Mary&#8217;s good health and spirits, but
+hope it is only the consequence of her present situation, and,
+therefore, merely temporary, but I dread Clare&#8217;s being in the same
+house for a month or two, and wish the Williams&#8217; were half a mile from
+you. I must write a few lines to Mary, but will say nothing of having
+heard from Mrs. Godwin; you will tell her what you think right, but
+you know my opinion, that things which cannot be concealed are better
+told at once. I should suppose a bankruptcy would be best, but the
+Godwins do not seem to think so. If all the world valued obscure
+tranquillity as much as I do, it would be a happier, though possibly
+much duller, world than it is, but the loss of wealth is quite an
+epidemic disease in England, and it disturbs their rest more than
+the<a name='fna_48' id='fna_48' href='#f_48'><small>[48]</small></a> ... I should have a thousand things to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> say, but that I have a
+thousand other things to do, and you give me hope of conversing with
+you before long.&mdash;Ever yours very sincerely,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">M. M.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Shelley to Mrs. Godwin.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Lerici</span>, <i>29th May 1882</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Madam</span>&mdash;Mrs. Mason has sent me an extract from your last letter to
+show to Mary, and I have received that of Mr. Godwin, in which he
+mentions your having left Skinner Street.</p>
+
+<p>In Mary&#8217;s present state of health and spirits, much caution is
+requisite with regard to communications which must agitate her in the
+highest degree, and the object of my present letter is simply to
+inform you that I thought it right to exercise this caution on the
+present occasion. Mary is at present about three months advanced in
+pregnancy, and the irritability and languor which accompany this state
+are always distressing, and sometimes alarming. I do not know even how
+soon I can permit her to receive such communications, or even how soon
+you or Mr. Godwin would wish they should be conveyed to her, if you
+could have any idea of the effect. Do not, however, let me be
+misunderstood. It is not my intention or my wish that the
+circumstances in which your family is involved should be concealed
+from her; but that the detail of them should be suspended until they
+assume a more prosperous character, or at least till letters addressed
+to her or intended for her perusal on that subject should not convey a
+supposition that she could do more than she does, thus exasperating
+the sympathy which she already feels too intensely for her Father&#8217;s
+distress, which she would sacrifice all she possesses to remedy, but
+the remedy of which is beyond her power. She imagined that her novel
+might be turned to immediate advantage for him. I am greatly
+interested in the fate of this production, which appears to me to
+possess a high degree of merit, and I regret that it is not Mr.
+Godwin&#8217;s intention to publish it immediately. I am sure that Mary
+would be delighted to amend anything that her Father thought imperfect
+in it, though I confess that if his objection relates to the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span>character of Beatrice, <i>I</i> shall lament the deference which would be
+shown by the sacrifice of any portion of it to feelings and ideas
+which are but for a day. I wish Mr. Godwin would write to her on that
+subject; he might advert to the letter (for it is only the last one)
+which I have suppressed, or not, as he thought proper.</p>
+
+<p>I have written to Mr. Smith to solicit the loan of &pound;400, which, if I
+can obtain in that manner, is very much at Mr. Godwin&#8217;s service. The
+views which I now entertain of my affairs forbid me to enter into any
+further reversionary transactions; nor do I think Mr. Godwin would be
+a gainer by the contrary determination; as it would be next to
+impossible to effectuate any such bargain at this distance, nor could
+I burthen my income, which is only sufficient to meet its various
+claims, and the system of life in which it seems necessary I should
+live.</p>
+
+<p>We hear you hear Jane&#8217;s (Clare&#8217;s) news from Mrs. Mason. Since the late
+melancholy event she has become far more tranquil; nor should I have
+anything to desire with regard to her, did not the uncertainty of my
+own life and prospects render it prudent for her to attempt to
+establish some sort of independence as a security against an event
+which would deprive her of that which she at present enjoys. She is
+well in health, and usually resides at Florence, where she has formed
+a little society for herself among the Italians, with whom she is a
+great favourite. She was here for a week or two; and although she has
+at present returned to Florence, we expect her on a visit to us for
+the summer months. In the winter, unless some of her various plans
+succeed, for she may be called <i>la fille aux mille projets</i>, she will
+return to Florence. Mr. Godwin may depend upon receiving immediate
+notice of the result of my application to Mr. Smith. I hope soon to
+have an account of your situation and prospects, and remain, dear
+Madam, yours very sincerely,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">P. B. Shelley</span>.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Godwin.</p>
+
+<p>We will speak another time, of what is deeply interesting both to Mary
+and to myself, of my dear William.</p></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span>The knowledge of all this on Shelley&#8217;s mind,&mdash;the consciousness that he
+was hiding it from Mary, and that she was probably more than half aware of
+his doing so, gave him a feeling of constraint in his daily intercourse
+with her. To talk with her, even about her father, was difficult, for he
+could neither help nor hide his feeling of irritation and indignation at
+the way in which Godwin persecuted his daughter after the efforts she had
+made in his behalf, and for which he had hardly thanked her.</p>
+
+<p>It would have to come, the explanation; but for the present, as Shelley
+wrote to Clare, he was content to put off the evil day. Towards the end of
+the month Mary&#8217;s health had somewhat improved, and the letter she then
+wrote to Mrs. Gisborne gives a connected account of all the past
+incidents.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary Shelley to Mrs. Gisborne.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Casa Magni</span>, Presso a <span class="smcap">Lerici</span>,<br />
+<span style="padding-right: 2em;"><i>2d June 1822</i>.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Gisborne</span>&mdash;We received a letter from Mr. Gisborne the
+other day, which promised one from you. It is not yet come, and
+although I think that you are two or three in my debt, yet I am good
+enough to write to you again, and thus to increase your debt. Nor will
+I allow you, with one letter, to take advantage of the Insolvent Act,
+and thus to free yourself from all claims at once. When I last wrote,
+I said that I hoped our spring visitation had come and was gone, but
+this year we were not quit so easily. However, before I mention
+anything else, I will finish the story of the <i>zuffa</i> as far as it is
+yet gone. I think that in my last I left the sergeant recovering; one
+of Lord Byron&#8217;s and one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> Guiccioli&#8217;s servants in prison on
+suspicion, though both were innocent. The judge or advocate, called a
+Cancelliere, sent from Florence to determine the affair, dislikes the
+Pisans, and, having <i>poca paga</i>, expected a present from Milordo, and
+so favoured our part of the affair, was very civil, and came to our
+houses to take depositions against the law. For the sake of the
+lesson, Hogg should have been there to learn to cross-question. The
+Cancelliere, a talkative buffoon of a Florentine, with &#8220;mille scuse
+per l&#8217;incomodo,&#8221; asked, &#8220;Dove fu lei la sera del 24 marzo? Andai a
+spasso in carozza, fuori della Porta della Piaggia.&#8221; A little clerk,
+seated beside him, with a great pile of papers before him, now dipped
+his pen in his ink-horn, and looked expectant, while the Cancelliere,
+turning his eyes up to the ceiling, repeated, &#8220;Io fui a spasso,&#8221; etc.
+This scene lasted two, four, six, hours, as it happened. In the space
+of two months the depositions of fifteen people were taken, and
+finding Tita (Lord Byron&#8217;s servant) perfectly innocent, the
+Cancelliere ordered him to be liberated, but the Pisan police took
+fright at his beard. They called him &#8220;il barbone,&#8221; and, although it
+was declared that on his exit from prison he should be shaved, they
+could not tranquillise their mighty minds, but banished him. We, in
+the meantime, were come to this place, so he has taken refuge with us.
+He is an excellent fellow, faithful, courageous, and daring. How could
+it happen that the Pisans should be frightened at such a <i>mirabile
+mostro</i> of an Italian, especially as the day he was let out of
+<i>segreto</i>, and was a <i>largee</i> in prison, he gave a feast to all his
+fellow-prisoners, hiring chandeliers and plate! But poor Antonio, the
+Guiccioli&#8217;s servant, the meekest-hearted fellow in the world, is kept
+in <i>segreto</i>; not found guilty, but punished as such,&mdash;<i>e chi sa</i> when
+he will be let out?&mdash;so rests the affair.</p>
+
+<p>About a month ago Clare came to visit us at Pisa, and went with the
+Williams&#8217; to find a house in the Gulf of Spezzia, when, during her
+absence, the disastrous news came of the death of Allegra. She died of
+a typhus fever, which had been raging in the Romagna; but no one wrote
+to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> say it was there. She had no friends except the nuns of the
+Convent, who were kind to her, I believe; but you know Italians. If
+half of the Convent had died of the plague, they would never have
+written to have had her removed, and so the poor child fell a
+sacrifice. Lord Byron felt the loss at first bitterly; he also felt
+remorse, for he felt that he had acted against everybody&#8217;s counsels
+and wishes, and death had stamped with truth the many and often-urged
+prophecies of Clare, that the air of the Romagna, joined to the
+ignorance of the Italians, would prove fatal to her. Shelley wished to
+conceal the fatal news from her as long as possible, so when she
+returned from Spezzia he resolved to remove thither without delay,
+with so little delay that he packed me off with Clare and Percy the
+very next day. She wished to return to Florence, but he persuaded her
+to accompany me; the next day he packed up our goods and chattels, for
+a furnished house was not to be found in this part of the world, and,
+like a torrent hurrying everything in its course, he persuaded the
+Williams&#8217; to do the same. They came here; but one house was to be
+found for us all; it is beautifully situated on the sea-shore, under
+the woody hills,&mdash;but such a place as this is! The poverty of the
+people is beyond anything, yet they do not appear unhappy, but go on
+in dirty content, or contented dirt, while we find it hard work to
+purvey miles around for a few eatables. We were in wretched discomfort
+at first, but now are in a kind of disorderly order, living from day
+to day as we can. After the first day or two Clare insisted on
+returning to Florence, so Shelley was obliged to disclose the truth.
+You may judge of what was her first burst of grief and despair;
+however she reconciled herself to her fate sooner than we expected;
+and although, of course, until she form new ties, she will always
+grieve, yet she is now tranquil&mdash;more tranquil than when prophesying
+her disaster; she was for ever forming plans for getting her child
+from a place she judged but too truly would be fatal to her. She has
+now returned to Florence, and I do not know whether she will join us
+again. Our colony is much smaller than we expected, which we consider
+a benefit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> Lord Byron remains with his train at Montenero. Trelawny
+is to be the commander of his vessel, and of course will be at
+Leghorn. He is at present at Genoa, awaiting the finishing of this
+boat. Shelley&#8217;s boat is a beautiful creature; Henry would admire her
+greatly; though only 24 feet by 8 feet she is a perfect little ship,
+and looks twice her size. She had one fault, she was to have been
+built in partnership with Williams and Trelawny. Trelawny chose the
+name of the <i>Don Juan</i>, and we acceded; but when Shelley took her
+entirely on himself we changed the name to the <i>Ariel</i>. Lord Byron
+chose to take fire at this, and determined that she should be called
+after the Poem; wrote to Roberts to have the name painted on the
+mainsail, and she arrived thus disfigured. For days and nights, full
+twenty-one, did Shelley and Edward ponder on her anabaptism, and the
+washing out the primeval stain. Turpentine, spirits of wine, buccata,
+all were tried, and it became dappled and no more. At length the piece
+had to be taken out and reefs put, so that the sail does not look
+worse. I do not know what Lord Byron will say, but Lord and Poet as he
+is, he could not be allowed to make a coal barge of our boat. As only
+one house was to be found habitable in this gulf, the Williams&#8217; have
+taken up their abode with us, and their servants and mine quarrel like
+cats and dogs; and besides, you may imagine how ill a large family
+agrees with my laziness, when accounts and domestic concerns come to
+be talked of. <i>Ma pazienza.</i> After all the place does not suit me; the
+people are <i>rozzi</i>, and speak a detestable dialect, and yet it is
+better than any other Italian sea-shore north of Naples. The air is
+excellent, and you may guess how much better we like it than Leghorn,
+when, besides, we should have been involved in English society&mdash;a
+thing we longed to get rid of at Pisa. Mr. Gisborne talks of your
+going to a distant country; pray write to me in time before this takes
+place, as I want a box from England first, but cannot now exactly name
+its contents. I am sorry to hear you do not get on, but perhaps Henry
+will, and make up for all. Percy is well, and Shelley singularly so;
+this incessant boating does him a great deal of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> good. I have been
+very unwell for some time past, but am better now. I have not even
+heard of the arrival of my novel; but I suppose for his own sake, Papa
+will dispose of it to the best advantage. If you see it advertised,
+pray tell me, also its publisher, etc.</p>
+
+<p>We have heard from Hunt the day he was to sail, and anxiously and
+daily now await his arrival. Shelley will go over to Leghorn to him,
+and I also, if I can so manage it. We shall be at Pisa next winter, I
+believe, fate so decrees. Of course you have heard that the lawsuit
+went against my Father. This was the summit and crown of our spring
+misfortunes, but he writes in so few words, and in such a manner, that
+any information that I could get, through any one, would be a great
+benefit to me. Adieu. Pray write now, and at length. Remember both
+Shelley and me to Hogg. Did you get <i>Matilda</i> from Papa?&mdash;Yours ever,</p>
+
+<p class="signa"><span class="smcap">Mary W. Shelley</span>.</p>
+
+<p>Continue to direct to Pisa.</p></div>
+
+<p>Clare returned to the Casa Magni on the 6th of July. The weather had now
+become intensely hot, and Mary was again prostrated by it. Alarming
+symptoms appeared, and after a wretched week of ill health, these came to
+a crisis in a dangerous miscarriage. She was destitute of medical aid or
+appliances, and, weakened as she already was, they feared for her life.
+She had lain ill for several hours before some ice could be procured, and
+Shelley then took upon himself the responsibility of its immediate use;
+the event proved him right; and when at last a doctor came, he found her
+doing well. Her strength, however, was reduced to the lowest ebb; her
+spirits also; and within a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> week of this misfortune her recovery was
+retarded by a dreadful nervous shock she received through Shelley&#8217;s
+walking in his sleep.<a name='fna_49' id='fna_49' href='#f_49'><small>[49]</small></a></p>
+
+<p>While Mary was enduring a time of physical and mental suffering beyond
+what can be told, and such as no man can wholly understand, Shelley, for
+his part, was enjoying unwonted health and good spirits. And such
+creatures are we all that unwonted health in ourself is even a stronger
+power for happiness than is the sickness of another for depression.</p>
+
+<p>He was sorry for Mary&#8217;s gloom, but he could not lighten it, and he was
+persistently content in spite of it. This has led to the supposition that
+there was, at this time, a serious want of sympathy between Shelley and
+Mary. His only want, he said in an often-quoted letter, was the presence
+of those who could feel, and understand him, and he added, &#8220;Whether from
+proximity, and the continuity of domestic intercourse, Mary does not.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It would have been almost miraculous had it been otherwise. Perhaps
+nothing in the world is harder than for a person suffering from exhausting
+illness, and from the extreme of nervous and mental depression, to enter
+into the mood of temporary elation of another person whose spirits, as a
+rule, are uneven, and in need of constant <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span>support from others. But the
+context of this very letter of Shelley&#8217;s shows clearly enough that he
+meant nothing desperate, no shipwreck of the heart; for, as the people who
+could &#8220;feel, and understand him,&#8221; he instances his correspondents, Mr. and
+Mrs. Gisborne, saying that his satisfaction would be complete if only
+<i>they</i> were of the party; although, were his wishes not limited by his
+hopes, Hogg would also be included. He would have liked a little
+intellectual stimulus and comradeship. As it was, he was well satisfied
+with an intercourse of which &#8220;words were not the instruments.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">I like Jane more and more, and I find Williams the most amiable of companions.</p>
+
+<p>Jane&#8217;s guitar and her sweet singing were a new and perpetual delight to
+him, and she herself supplied him with just as much suggestion of an
+unrealised ideal as was necessary to keep his imagination alive. She, on
+her side, understood him and knew how to manage him perfectly; as a great
+man may be understood by a clever woman who is so far from having an
+intellectual comprehension of him that she is not distressed by the
+consciousness of its imperfection or its absence, but succeeds by dint of
+delicate social intuition, guided by just so much sense of humour as saves
+her from exaggeration, or from blunders; and who understands her great man
+on his human<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> side so much better than the poor creature understands
+himself, as to wind him at will, easily, gracefully, and insensibly, round
+her little finger. And so, without sacrificing a moment&#8217;s peace of mind,
+Jane Williams won over Shelley an ascendency which was pleasing to both
+and convenient to every one. No better instance could be given of her
+method than the well-known episode of his sudden proposal to her to
+overturn the boat, and, together, to &#8220;solve the great mystery&#8221;; inimitably
+told by Trelawny. And so the month of June sped away.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">&#8220;I have a boat here,&#8221; wrote Shelley to John Gisborne, ... &#8220;it cost me
+&pound;80, and reduced me to some difficulty in point of money. However, it
+is swift and beautiful, and appears quite a vessel. Williams is
+captain, and we glide along this delightful bay, in the evening wind,
+under the summer moon, until earth appears another world. Jane brings
+her guitar, and if the past and the future could be obliterated, the
+present would content me so well that I could say with Faust to the
+present moment, &#8216;Remain; thou art so beautiful.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And now, like Faust, having said this, like Faust&#8217;s, his hour had come.</p>
+
+<p>He heard from Genoa of the Leigh Hunts&#8217; arrival, so far, on their journey,
+and wrote at once to Hunt a letter of warmest welcome to Italy, promising
+to start for Leghorn the instant he should hear of the Hunts&#8217; vessel
+having sailed for that port.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span>Poor Mary, who sends you a thousand loves, has been seriously ill,
+having suffered a most debilitating miscarriage. She is still too
+unwell to rise from the sofa, and must take great care of herself for
+some time, or she would come with us to Leghorn. Lord Byron is in
+<i>villegiatura</i> near Leghorn, and you will meet besides with a Mr.
+Trelawny, a wild, but kind-hearted seaman.</p>
+
+<p>The Hunts sailed; and, on the 1st of July, Shelley and Williams, with
+Charles Vivian, the sailor-lad who looked after their boat, started in the
+<i>Ariel</i> for Leghorn, where they arrived safely. Thence Shelley, with Leigh
+Hunt, proceeded to Pisa. It had not been their intention to stay long, but
+Shelley found much to detain him. Matters with respect to Byron and the
+projected magazine wore a most unsatisfactory appearance; Byron&#8217;s
+eagerness had cooled, and his reception of the Hunts was chilling in the
+extreme. Poor Mrs. Hunt was very seriously ill, and the letter which Mary
+received from her husband was mainly to explain his prolonged absence. She
+had let him go from her side with the greatest unwillingness; she was
+haunted by the gloomiest forebodings and a sense of unexplained misery
+which they all ascribed to her illness, and her letters were written in a
+tone of depression which made Shelley anxious on her account, and Edward
+Williams on that of his wife, who, he feared, might be unhappy during his
+absence from her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span>But Jane wrote brightly, and gave an improved account of Mary.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Shelley to Mary.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Pisa</span>, <i>4th July 1822</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Mary</span>&mdash;I have received both your letters, and shall attend
+to the instructions they convey. I did not think of buying the
+<i>Bolivar</i>; Lord Byron wishes to sell her, but I imagine would prefer
+ready money. I have as yet made no inquiries about houses near
+Pugnano&mdash;I have had no moment of time to spare from Hunt&#8217;s affairs. I
+am detained unwillingly here, and you will probably see Williams in
+the boat before me, but that will be decided to-morrow.</p>
+
+<p>Things are in the worst possible situation with respect to poor Hunt.
+I find Marianne in a desperate state of health, and on our arrival at
+Pisa sent for Vacc&agrave;. He decides that her case is hopeless, and,
+although it will be lingering, must end fatally. This decision he
+thought proper to communicate to Hunt, indicating at the same time
+with great judgment and precision the treatment necessary to be
+observed for availing himself of the chance of his being deceived.
+This intelligence has extinguished the last spark of poor Hunt&#8217;s
+spirits, low enough before. The children are well and much improved.
+Lord Byron is at this moment on the point of leaving Tuscany. The
+Gambas have been exiled, and he declares his intention of following
+their fortunes. His first idea was to sail to America, which was
+changed to Switzerland, then to Genoa, and last to Lucca. Everybody is
+in despair, and everything in confusion. Trelawny was on the point of
+sailing to Genoa for the purpose of transporting the <i>Bolivar</i>
+overland to the Lake of Geneva, and had already whispered in my ear
+his desire that I should not influence Lord Byron against this
+terrestrial navigation. He next received <i>orders</i> to weigh anchor and
+set sail for Lerici. He is now without instructions, moody and
+disappointed. But it is the worse for poor Hunt, unless the present
+storm should blow over. He places his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> whole dependence upon the
+scheme of the journal, for which every arrangement has been made. Lord
+Byron must, of course, furnish the requisite funds at present, as I
+cannot; but he seems inclined to depart without the necessary
+explanations and arrangements due to such a situation as Hunt&#8217;s.
+These, in spite of delicacy, I must procure; he offers him the
+copyright of the <i>Vision of Judgment</i> for the first number. This
+offer, if sincere, is <i>more</i> than enough to set up the journal, and,
+if sincere, will set everything right.</p>
+
+<p>How are you, my best Mary? Write especially how is your health, and
+how your spirits are, and whether you are not more reconciled to
+staying at Lerici, at least during the summer. You have no idea how I
+am hurried and occupied; I have not a moment&#8217;s leisure, but will write
+by next post. Ever, dearest Mary, yours affectionately,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">S.</p>
+
+<p>I have found the translation of the <i>Symposium</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Shelley to Jane Williams.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Pisa</span>, <i>4th July 1822</i>.</p>
+
+<p>You will probably see Williams before I can disentangle myself from
+the affairs with which I am now surrounded. I return to Leghorn
+to-night, and shall urge him to sail with the first fair wind without
+expecting me. I have thus the pleasure of contributing to your
+happiness when deprived of every other, and of leaving you no other
+subject of regret but the absence of one scarcely worth regretting. I
+fear you are solitary and melancholy at the Villa Magni, and, in the
+intervals of the greater and more serious distress in which I am
+compelled to sympathise here, I figure to myself the countenance which
+has been the source of such consolation to me, shadowed by a veil of
+sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>How soon those hours passed, and how slowly they return, to pass so
+soon again, and perhaps for ever, in which we have lived together so
+intimately, so happily! Adieu, my dearest friend. I only write these
+lines for the pleasure of tracing what will meet your eyes. Mary will
+tell you all the news.</p>
+
+<p class="signa">S.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">From Jane Williams to Shelley.</span></p>
+
+<p class="right"><i>6th July.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Friend</span>&mdash;Your few melancholy lines have indeed cast your own
+visionary veil over a countenance that was animated with the hope of
+seeing you return with far different tidings. We heard yesterday that
+you had left Leghorn in company with the <i>Bolivar</i>, and would
+assuredly be here in the morning at 5 o&#8217;clock; therefore I got up, and
+from the terrace saw (or I dreamt it) the <i>Bolivar</i> opposite in the
+offing. She hoisted more sail, and went through the Straits. What can
+this mean? Hope and uncertainty have made such a chaos in my mind that
+I know not what to think. My own Neddino does not deign to lighten my
+darkness by a single word. Surely I shall see him to-night. Perhaps,
+too, you are with him. Well, <i>pazienza</i>!</p>
+
+<p>Mary, I am happy to tell you, goes on well; she talks of going to
+Pisa, and indeed your poor friends seem to require all her assistance.
+For me, alas! I can only offer sympathy, and my fervent wishes that a
+brighter cloud may soon dispel the present gloom. I hope much from the
+air of Pisa for Mrs. Hunt.</p>
+
+<p>Lord B.&#8217;s departure gives me pleasure, for whatever may be the present
+difficulties and disappointments, they are small to what you would
+have suffered had he remained with you. This I say in the spirit of
+prophecy, so gather consolation from it.</p>
+
+<p>I have only time left to scrawl you a hasty adieu, and am
+affectionately yours,</p>
+
+<p class="signa">J. W.</p>
+
+<p>Why do you talk of never enjoying moments like the past? Are you going
+to join your friend Plato, or do you expect I shall do so soon? <i>Buona
+notte.</i></p></div>
+
+<p>Mary was slowly getting better, and hoping to feel brighter by the time
+Shelley came back. On the 7th of July she wrote a few lines in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span>
+journal, summing up the month during which she had left it untouched.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><i>Sunday, July 7.</i>&mdash;I am ill most of this time. Ill, and then
+convalescent. Roberts and Trelawny arrive with the <i>Bolivar</i>. On
+Monday, 16th June, Trelawny goes on to Leghorn with her. Roberts
+remains here until 1st July, when the Hunts being arrived, Shelley
+goes in the boat with him and Edward to Leghorn. They are still there.
+Read <i>Jacopo Ortis</i>, second volume of <i>Geographica Fisica</i>, etc. etc.</p>
+
+<p>Next day, Monday the 8th, when the voyagers were expected to return, it
+was so stormy all day at Lerici that their having sailed was considered
+out of the question, and their non-arrival excited no surprise in Mary or
+Jane. So many possibilities and probabilities might detain them at Leghorn
+or Pisa, that their wives did not get anxious for three or four days; and
+even then what the two women dreaded was not calamity at sea, but illness
+or disagreeable business on shore. On Thursday, however, getting no
+letters, they did become uneasy, and, but for the rough weather, Jane
+Williams would have started in a row-boat for Leghorn. On Friday they
+watched with feverish anxiety for the post; there was but one letter, and
+it turned them to stone. It was to Shelley, from Leigh Hunt, begging him
+to write and say how he had got home in the bad weather of the previous
+Monday. And then it dawned upon them&mdash;a dawn of darkness. There was no
+news; there would be no news any more.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span>One minute had untied the knot, and solved the great mystery. The <i>Ariel</i>
+had gone down in the storm, with all hands on board.</p>
+
+<p>And for four days past, though they had not known it, Mary Shelley and
+Jane Williams had been widows.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">END OF VOL. I</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><i>Printed, by</i> <span class="smcap">R. &amp; R. Clark</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<div class="verts">
+<p class="center"><span class="huge"><i>AT ALL BOOKSELLERS.</i></span></p>
+<p class="center">WORD PORTRAITS OF FAMOUS WRITERS.</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Edited by</span> MABEL E. WOTTON.</p>
+<p class="center">In large crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8220;The world has always been fond of personal details respecting men who
+have been celebrated.&#8221; These were the words of Lord Beaconsfield, and with
+them he prefixed his description of the personal appearance of Isaac
+d&#8217;Israeli.... The above work contains an account of the face, figure,
+dress, voice, and manner of our best known writers, ranging from Geoffrey
+Chaucer to Mrs. Henry Wood&mdash;drawn in all cases, when it is possible, by
+their contemporaries. British writers only are named, and amongst them no
+living author.&#8217;&mdash;<span class="smcap">From the Preface.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">CONTENTS.</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table">
+<tr><td valign="top">Joseph Addison.<br />
+Harrison Ainsworth.<br />
+Jane Austen.<br />
+Francis, Lord Bacon.<br />
+Joanna Baillie.<br />
+Benjamin, Lord Beaconsfield.<br />
+Jeremy Bentham.<br />
+Richard Bentley.<br />
+James Boswell.<br />
+Charlotte Bront&euml;.<br />
+Henry, Lord Brougham.<br />
+Elizabeth Barrett Browning.<br />
+John Bunyan.<br />
+Edmund Burke.<br />
+Robert Burns.<br />
+Samuel Butler.<br />
+George, Lord Byron.<br />
+Thomas Campbell.<br />
+Thomas Carlyle.<br />
+Thomas Chatterton.<br />
+Geoffrey Chaucer.<br />
+Philip, Lord Chesterfield.<br />
+William Cobbett.<br />
+Hartley Coleridge.<br />
+Samuel Taylor Coleridge.<br />
+William Collins.<br />
+William Cowper<br />
+George Crabbe.<br />
+Daniel De Foe.<br />
+Charles Dickens.<br />
+Isaac D&#8217;Israeli.<br />
+John Dryden.<br />
+Mary Anne Evans (George Eliot). &nbsp; &nbsp;<br />
+Henry Fielding.<br />
+John Gay.<br />
+Edward Gibbon.<br />
+William Godwin.<br />
+Oliver Goldsmith.<br />
+David Gray.<br />
+Thomas Gray.<br />
+Henry Hallam.<br />
+William Hazlitt.<br />
+Felicia Hemans.<br />
+James Hogg.<br />
+Thomas Hood.<br />
+Theodore Hook.<br />
+David Hume.<br />
+Leigh Hunt.<br />
+Elizabeth Inchbald.<br />
+Francis, Lord Jeffrey.<br />
+Douglas Jerrold.<br />
+Samuel Johnson.<br />
+Ben Jonson.<br />
+John Keats.<br />
+John Keble.<br />
+Charles Kingsley.<br />
+Charles Lamb.<br />
+Letitia Elizabeth Landon.</td>
+<td valign="top">Walter Savage Landor.<br />
+Charles Lever.<br />
+Matthew Gregory Lewis.<br />
+John Gibson Lockhart.<br />
+Sir Richard Lovelace.<br />
+Edward, Lord Lytton.<br />
+Thomas Babington Macaulay.<br />
+William Maginn.<br />
+Francis Mahony (Father Prout).<br />
+Frederick Marryat.<br />
+Harriet Martineau.<br />
+Frederick Denison Maurice.<br />
+John Milton.<br />
+Mary Russell Mitford.<br />
+Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.<br />
+Thomas Moore.<br />
+Hannah More.<br />
+Sir Thomas More.<br />
+Caroline Norton.<br />
+Thomas Otway.<br />
+Samuel Pepys.<br />
+Alexander Pope.<br />
+Bryan Waller Procter.<br />
+Thomas de Quincey.<br />
+Ann Radcliffe.<br />
+Sir Walter Raleigh.<br />
+Charles Reade.<br />
+Samuel Richardson.<br />
+Samuel Rogers.<br />
+Dante Gabriel Rossetti.<br />
+Richard Savage.<br />
+Sir Walter Scott.<br />
+William Shakespeare.<br />
+Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley.<br />
+Percy Bysshe Shelley.<br />
+Richard Brinsley Sheridan.<br />
+Sir Philip Sidney.<br />
+Horace Smith.<br />
+Sydney Smith.<br />
+Tobias Smollett.<br />
+Robert Southey.<br />
+Edmund Spenser.<br />
+Arthur Penrhyn Stanley.<br />
+Sir Richard Steele.<br />
+Laurence Sterne.<br />
+Sir John Suckling.<br />
+Jonathan Swift.<br />
+William Makepeace Thackeray.<br />
+James Thomson.<br />
+Anthony Trollope.<br />
+Edmund Waller.<br />
+Horace Walpole.<br />
+Izaac Walton.<br />
+John Wilson.<br />
+Ellen Wood (Mrs. Henry Wood).<br />
+William Wordsworth.<br />
+Sir Henry Wotton.</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">RICHARD BENTLEY &amp; SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,<br />
+Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 50%;" />
+<p><strong>Footnotes:</strong></p>
+
+<p><a name='f_1' id='f_1' href='#fna_1'>[1]</a> &#8220;Address to the Irish People.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_2' id='f_2' href='#fna_2'>[2]</a> Possibly this may refer to Count Schlaberndorf, an expatriated
+Prussian subject, who was imprisoned in Paris during the Reign of Terror,
+and escaped, but subsequently returned, and lived there in retirement,
+almost in concealment. He was a cynic, an eccentric, yet a patriot withal.
+He was divorced from his wife, and Shelley had probably got hold of a
+wrong version of his story.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_3' id='f_3' href='#fna_3'>[3]</a> Byron.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_4' id='f_4' href='#fna_4'>[4]</a> <i>Ibid.</i></p>
+
+<p><a name='f_5' id='f_5' href='#fna_5'>[5]</a></p>
+
+<p class="poem">Thy dewy looks sink in my breast;<br />
+Thy gentle words stir poison there;<br />
+Thou hast disturbed the only rest<br />
+That was the portion of despair!<br />
+Subdued to Duty&#8217;s hard control,<br />
+I could have borne my wayward lot:<br />
+The chains that bind this ruined soul<br />
+Had cankered then, but crushed it not.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_6' id='f_6' href='#fna_6'>[6]</a> See his letter to Baxter, quoted before.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_7' id='f_7' href='#fna_7'>[7]</a> <i>Journal of a Six Weeks&#8217; Tour.</i></p>
+
+<p><a name='f_8' id='f_8' href='#fna_8'>[8]</a> <i>Journal of a Six Weeks&#8217; Tour.</i></p>
+
+<p><a name='f_9' id='f_9' href='#fna_9'>[9]</a> <i>Journal of a Six Weeks&#8217; Tour.</i></p>
+
+<p><a name='f_10' id='f_10' href='#fna_10'>[10]</a> The bailiffs.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_11' id='f_11' href='#fna_11'>[11]</a> She was staying temporarily at Skinner Street.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_12' id='f_12' href='#fna_12'>[12]</a> Referring to Fanny&#8217;s letter, enclosed.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_13' id='f_13' href='#fna_13'>[13]</a> Peacock&#8217;s mother.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_14' id='f_14' href='#fna_14'>[14]</a> A friend of Harriet Shelley&#8217;s.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_15' id='f_15' href='#fna_15'>[15]</a> It is presumed that these were for Clara, in answer to an
+advertisement for a situation as companion.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_16' id='f_16' href='#fna_16'>[16]</a> Godwin&#8217;s friend and amanuensis.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_17' id='f_17' href='#fna_17'>[17]</a> Which, unfortunately, may not be published.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_18' id='f_18' href='#fna_18'>[18]</a> From this time Miss Clairmont is always mentioned as Clare, or
+Claire, except by the Godwins, who adhered to the original &#8220;Jane.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_19' id='f_19' href='#fna_19'>[19]</a> Byron.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_20' id='f_20' href='#fna_20'>[20]</a> Word obliterated.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_21' id='f_21' href='#fna_21'>[21]</a> Matthew Gregory Lewis, known as &#8220;Monk&#8221; Lewis.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_22' id='f_22' href='#fna_22'>[22]</a> Hogg.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_23' id='f_23' href='#fna_23'>[23]</a> <i>Revolt of Islam</i>, Dedication.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_24' id='f_24' href='#fna_24'>[24]</a> <i>Revolt of Islam</i>, Dedication.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_25' id='f_25' href='#fna_25'>[25]</a> The work referred to would seem to be Shelley&#8217;s Oxford pamphlet.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_26' id='f_26' href='#fna_26'>[26]</a> Baxter&#8217;s son.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_27' id='f_27' href='#fna_27'>[27]</a> Mr. Booth.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_28' id='f_28' href='#fna_28'>[28]</a> What this accusation was does not appear.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_29' id='f_29' href='#fna_29'>[29]</a> Alba.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_30' id='f_30' href='#fna_30'>[30]</a> Shelley&#8217;s solicitor.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_31' id='f_31' href='#fna_31'>[31]</a> The nursemaid.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_32' id='f_32' href='#fna_32'>[32]</a> Mrs. Hunt.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_33' id='f_33' href='#fna_33'>[33]</a> See Godwin&#8217;s letter to Baxter, chap. iii.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_34' id='f_34' href='#fna_34'>[34]</a> Preface to <i>Prometheus Unbound</i>.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_35' id='f_35' href='#fna_35'>[35]</a> Page 205.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_36' id='f_36' href='#fna_36'>[36]</a> In <i>Frankenstein</i>.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_37' id='f_37' href='#fna_37'>[37]</a> <i>Notes to Shelley&#8217;s Poems</i>, by Mrs. Shelley.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_38' id='f_38' href='#fna_38'>[38]</a> Letter to Mr. Gisborne, of June 18, 1822.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_39' id='f_39' href='#fna_39'>[39]</a> Letter of Shelley&#8217;s to Mr. Gisborne. (The passage, in the original,
+has no personal reference to Byron.)</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_40' id='f_40' href='#fna_40'>[40]</a> Announcing the stoppage of Shelley&#8217;s income.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_41' id='f_41' href='#fna_41'>[41]</a> &#8220;The Boat on the Serchio.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_42' id='f_42' href='#fna_42'>[42]</a> <i>Notes to Shelley&#8217;s Poems</i>, by Mary Shelley.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_43' id='f_43' href='#fna_43'>[43]</a> Godwin&#8217;s <i>Answer to Malthus</i>.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_44' id='f_44' href='#fna_44'>[44]</a> This initial has been printed <i>C.</i> Mrs. Shelley&#8217;s letter leaves no
+doubt that Elise&#8217;s is the illness referred to.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_45' id='f_45' href='#fna_45'>[45]</a> Trelawny&#8217;s &#8220;Recollections.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_46' id='f_46' href='#fna_46'>[46]</a> Williams&#8217; journal for this last day runs&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>February 18.</i>&mdash;Jane unwell. S. turns physician. Called on Lord B., who
+talks of getting up <i>Othello</i>. Laid a wager with S. that Lord B. quits
+Italy before six months. Jane put on a Hindostanee dress and passed the
+evening with Mary, who had also the Turkish costume.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_47' id='f_47' href='#fna_47'>[47]</a> Trelawny&#8217;s &#8220;Recollections.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_48' id='f_48' href='#fna_48'>[48]</a> Word illegible.</p>
+
+<p><a name='f_49' id='f_49' href='#fna_49'>[49]</a> Recounted at length in a subsequent letter, to be quoted later on.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY, VOLUME I (OF 2)***</p>
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft
+Shelley, Volume I (of 2), by Florence A. Thomas Marshall
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Volume I (of 2)
+
+
+Author: Florence A. Thomas Marshall
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 8, 2011 [eBook #37955]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MARY
+WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY, VOLUME I (OF 2)***
+
+
+E-text prepared by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
+Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries
+(http://www.archive.org/details/toronto)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustration.
+ See 37955-h.htm or 37955-h.zip:
+ (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/37955/37955-h/37955-h.htm)
+ or
+ (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/37955/37955-h.zip)
+
+
+ Project Gutenberg also has Volume II of this work.
+ See http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37956
+
+
+ Images of the original pages are available through
+ Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See
+ http://www.archive.org/details/lifelettersofmar01marsuoft
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+ The original text includes Greek characters. For this text
+ version these letters have been replaced with transliterations.
+
+ The original text includes a blank space surrounded by
+ brackets. This is represented as [____] in this text version.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY
+
+I
+
+[Illustration: Photogravure by Annan & Swan
+
+_MRS SHELLEY._
+
+_After a portrait by Rothwell,_
+
+_in the possession of Sir Percy F. Shelley, Bart._]
+
+
+THE LIFE & LETTERS OF MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY
+
+by
+
+MRS. JULIAN MARSHALL
+
+With Portraits and Facsimile
+
+In Two Volumes
+
+VOL. I
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London
+Richard Bentley & Son
+Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen
+1889
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+The following biography was undertaken at the request of Sir Percy and
+Lady Shelley, and has been compiled from the MS. journals and letters in
+their possession, which were entrusted to me, without reserve, for this
+purpose.
+
+The earlier portions of the journal having been placed also at Professor
+Dowden's disposal for his _Life of Shelley_, it will be found that in my
+first volume many passages indispensable to a life of Mary Shelley have
+already appeared, in one form or another, in Professor Dowden's pages.
+This fact I have had to ignore, having indeed settled on the quotations
+necessary to my narrative before the _Life of Shelley_ appeared. They are
+given without comment or dilution, just as they occur; where omissions are
+made it is in order to avoid repetition, or because the everyday entries
+refer to trivial circumstances uninteresting to the general reader.
+
+Letters which have previously been published are shortened when they are
+only of moderate interest; unpublished letters are given complete wherever
+possible.
+
+Those who hope to find in these pages much new circumstantial evidence on
+the vexed subject of Shelley's separation from his first wife will be
+disappointed. No contemporary document now exists which puts the case
+beyond the reach of argument. Collateral evidence is not wanting, but even
+were this not beyond the scope of the present work it would be wrong on
+the strength of it to assert more than that Shelley himself felt certain
+of his wife's unfaithfulness. Of that there is no doubt, nor of the fact
+that all such evidence as did afterwards transpire went to prove him more
+likely to have been right than wrong in his belief.
+
+My first thanks are due to Sir Percy and Lady Shelley for the use of their
+invaluable documents,--for the photographs of original pictures which form
+the basis of the illustrations,--and last, not least, for their kindly
+help and sympathy during the fulfilment of my task.
+
+I wish especially to express my gratitude to Mrs. Charles Call for her
+kind permission to me to print the letters of her father, Mr. Trelawny,
+which are among the most interesting of my unpublished materials.
+
+I have to thank Miss Stuart, from whom I obtained important letters from
+Mr. Baxter and Godwin; and Mr. A. C. Haden, through whom I made the
+acquaintance of Miss Christy Baxter.
+
+To Professor Dowden, and, above all, to Mr. Garnett, I am indebted for
+much valuable help, I may say, of all kinds.
+
+FLORENCE A. MARSHALL.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ PAGES
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+ Introductory remarks--Account of William Godwin and Mary
+ Wollstonecraft.
+
+ 1797. Their marriage--Birth of their daughter--Death of Mary
+ Godwin 1-11
+
+
+ CHAPTER II
+
+ AUGUST 1797-JUNE 1812
+
+ 1797. Godwin goes to reside at the "Polygon."
+
+ 1798-99. His despondency--Repeated proposals of marriage to
+ various ladies.
+
+ 1801. Marriage with Mrs. Clairmont.
+
+ 1805. Enters business as a publisher--Books for children.
+
+ 1807. Removes to Skinner Street, Holborn.
+
+ 1808. Aaron Burr's first visit to England.
+
+ 1811. Mrs. Godwin and the children go to Margate and
+ Ramsgate--Mary's health improves--She remains till Christmas
+ at Miss Petman's.
+
+ 1812. Aaron Burr's sojourn in England--Intimacy with the
+ Godwins--Extracts from his journal--Mary is invited to stay
+ with the Baxters at Dundee 12-26
+
+
+ CHAPTER III
+
+ JUNE 1812-MAY 1814
+
+ 1812. Mary sails for Dundee--Godwin's letter to Mr. Baxter--
+ The Baxters--Mary stays with them five months--Returns to
+ London with Christy Baxter--The Shelleys dine in Skinner
+ Street (Nov. 11)--Christy's enjoyment of London.
+
+ 1813. Godwin's letter to an anonymous correspondent
+ describing Fanny and Mary--Mary and Christy go back to Dundee
+ (June 3)--Mary's reminiscences of this time in the preface to
+ _Frankenstein_.
+
+ 1814. Mary returns home (March 30)--Domestic trials--Want of
+ guidance--Mrs. Godwin's jealousy--Shelley calls on Godwin
+ (May 5) 27-41
+
+
+ CHAPTER IV
+
+ APRIL-JUNE 1814
+
+ Account of Shelley's first introduction of himself to
+ Godwin--His past history--Correspondence (1812)--Shelley
+ goes to Ireland--Publishes address to the Irish people--
+ Godwin disapproves--Failure of Shelley's schemes--Godwin's
+ fruitless journey to Lynmouth (1813)--The Godwins and
+ Shelleys meet in London--The Shelleys leave town (Nov. 12).
+
+ 1814. Mary makes acquaintance with Shelley in May--
+ Description of her--Shelley's depression of spirits--His
+ genius and personal charm--He and Mary become intimate--Their
+ meetings by Mary Wollstonecraft's grave--Episode described by
+ Hogg--Godwin's distress for money and dependence on
+ Shelley--Shelley constantly at Skinner Street--He and Mary
+ own their mutual love--He gives her his copy of "Queen
+ Mab"--His inscription--Her inscription--Hopelessness 42-56
+
+
+ CHAPTER V
+
+ JUNE-AUGUST 1814
+
+ Retrospective history of Shelley's first marriage--
+ Estrangement between him and Harriet after their visit to
+ Scotland in 1813--Deterioration in Harriet--Shelley's deep
+ dejection--He is much attracted by Mrs. Boinville and her
+ circle--His conclusions respecting Harriet--Their effect on
+ him--Harriet is at Bath--She becomes anxious to hear of
+ him--Godwin writes to her--She comes to town and sees
+ Shelley, who informs her of his intentions--Godwin goes to
+ see her--He talks to Shelley and to Jane Clairmont--The
+ situation is intolerable--Shelley tells Mary everything--
+ They leave England precipitately, accompanied by Jane
+ Clairmont (July 28) 57-67
+
+
+ CHAPTER VI
+
+ AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 1814
+
+ 1814. (July).--They cross to Calais--Mrs. Godwin arrives in
+ pursuit of Jane--Jane thinks of returning, but changes her
+ mind and remains--Mrs. Godwin departs--Joint journal of
+ Shelley and Mary--They arrive at Paris without any money--
+ They procure some, and set off to walk through France with
+ a donkey--It is exchanged for a mule, and that for a
+ carriage--Journal--They arrive in Switzerland, and having
+ settled themselves for the winter, at once start to come
+ home--They arrive in England penniless, and have to obtain
+ money through Harriet--They go into lodgings in London 68-81
+
+
+ CHAPTER VII
+
+ SEPTEMBER 1814-MAY 1815
+
+ 1814. (September).--Godwin's mortification at what had
+ happened--False reports concerning him--Keeps Shelley well
+ in sight, but will only communicate with him through a
+ solicitor--General demoralisation of the household--Mrs.
+ Godwin and Fanny peep in at Shelley's windows--Poverty of
+ the Shelleys--Harriet's creditors--Shelley's many
+ dependents--He has to hide from bailiffs--Jane's
+ excitability--Studious habits of Shelley and Mary--Extracts
+ from journal.
+
+ 1815. Shelley's grandfather dies--Increase of income--Mary's
+ first baby born--It dies--Her regret--Fanny comes to see
+ her--Frequent change of lodgings--Hogg a constant visitor--
+ Peacock imprisoned for debt--He writes to the Shelleys--Jane
+ a source of much annoyance--She chooses to be called
+ "Clara"--Plans for her future--She departs to Lynmouth 82-114
+
+
+ CHAPTER VIII
+
+ MAY 1815-SEPTEMBER 1816
+
+ 1815. Objections raised to Clara's return to Skinner Street--
+ Her letter to Fanny Godwin from Lynmouth--The Shelleys make a
+ tour in South Devon--Shelley seeks for houses--Letter from
+ Mary--They settle at Bishopsgate--Boating expedition--Happy
+ summer--Shelley writes "Alastor."
+
+ 1816. Mary's son William born--List of books read by Shelley
+ and Mary in 1815--Clara's project of going on the stage--Her
+ connection with Byron--She introduces him to the Shelleys--
+ Shelley's efforts to raise money for Godwin--Godwin's
+ rapacity--Refuses to take a cheque made out in Shelley's
+ name--Shelley escapes from England--Is persuaded by Clara
+ (now called "Clare" or "Claire") to go to Geneva--Mary's
+ descriptive letters--Byron arrives at Geneva--Association of
+ Shelley and Byron--Origin of _Frankenstein_ as related by
+ Mary--She begins to write it--Voyage of Shelley and Byron
+ round the lake of Geneva--Tour to the valley of Chamouni--
+ Journal--Return to England (August)--Mary and Clare go to
+ Bath, and Shelley to Marlow 115-157
+
+
+ CHAPTER IX
+
+ SEPTEMBER 1816-FEBRUARY 1817
+
+ 1816. Life in lodgings at Bath--Anxieties--Letters from
+ Fanny--Her pleadings on Godwin's behalf--Her own
+ disappointment--She leaves home in despair--Dies by her own
+ hand at Swansea (October 9)--Shelley's visit to Marlow--
+ Letter from Mary--Shelley's search for Harriet--He hears of
+ her death--His yearning after his children--Marriage with
+ Mary (Dec. 29).
+
+ 1817. Birth of Clare's infant (Jan. 13)--Visit of the
+ Shelleys to the Leigh Hunts at Hampstead--Removal to Marlow 158-181
+
+
+ CHAPTER X
+
+ MARCH 1817-MARCH 1818
+
+ 1817 (March).--Albion House--Description--Visit of the Leigh
+ Hunts--Shelley's benevolence to the poor--Lord Eldon's
+ decree depriving Shelley of the custody of his children--His
+ indignation and grief--Godwin's continued impecuniosity and
+ exactions--Charles Clairmont's requests--Mary's visit to
+ Skinner Street--_Frankenstein_ is published--_Journal of a
+ Six Weeks' Tour_--Shelley writes _Revolt of Islam_--Allegra's
+ presence the cause of serious annoyance to the Shelleys--Mr.
+ Baxter's visit of discovery to Marlow--Birth of Mary's
+ daughter Clara (Sept. 2)--Mr. Baxter's second visit--His warm
+ appreciation of Shelley--Fruitless efforts to convert his
+ daughter Isabel to his way of thinking--The Shelleys
+ determine to leave Marlow--Shelley's ill-health--Mary's
+ letters to him in London--Desirability of sending Allegra to
+ her father--They decide on going abroad and taking her.
+
+ 1818. Stay in London--The Booths and Baxters break off
+ acquaintance with the Shelleys--Shelley suffers from
+ ophthalmia--Preparations for departure--The three children
+ are christened--The whole party leave England (March 12) 182-210
+
+
+ CHAPTER XI
+
+ MARCH 1818-JUNE 1819
+
+ 1818 (March).--Journey to Milan--Allegra sent to Venice--
+ Leghorn--Acquaintance with the Gisbornes--Lucca--Mary's wish
+ for literary work--Shelley and Clare go to Venice--The
+ Hoppners--Byron's villa at Este--Clara's illness--Letters--
+ Shelley to Mary--Mary to Mrs. Gisborne--Journey to Venice--
+ Clara dies--Godwin's letter to Mary--Este--Venice--Journey to
+ Rome--Naples--Shelley's depression of spirits.
+
+ 1819. Discovery of Paolo's intrigue with Elise--They are
+ married--Return to Rome--Enjoyment--Shelley writes
+ _Prometheus Unbound_ and the _Cenci_--Miss Curran--Delay in
+ leaving Rome--William Shelley's illness and death 211-243
+
+
+ CHAPTER XII
+
+ JUNE 1819-SEPTEMBER 1820
+
+ 1819 (August).--Leghorn--Journal--Mary's misery and utter
+ collapse of spirits--Letters to Miss Curran and Mrs. Hunt--
+ The Gisbornes--Henry Reveley's project of a steamboat--
+ Shelley's ardour--Letter from Godwin--Removal to Florence--
+ Acquaintance with Mrs. Mason (Lady Mountcashel)--Birth of
+ Percy (Nov. 19).
+
+ 1820. Mary writes _Valperga_--Alarm about money--Removal to
+ Pisa--Paolo's infamous plot--Shelley seeks legal aid--Casa
+ Ricci, Leghorn--"Letter to Maria Gisborne"--Uncomfortable
+ relations of Mary and Clare--Godwin's distress and petitions
+ for money--Vexations and anxieties--Baths of San Giuliano--
+ General improvement--Shelley writes _Witch of Atlas_ 244-268
+
+
+ CHAPTER XIII
+
+ SEPTEMBER 1820-AUGUST 1821
+
+ 1820. Abandonment of the steamboat project--Disappointment--
+ Wet season--The Serchio in flood--Return to Pisa--Medwin--His
+ illness--Clare takes a situation at Florence.
+
+ 1821. Pisan acquaintances--Pacchiani--Sgricci--Prince
+ Mavrocordato--Emilia Viviani--Mary's Greek studies--Shelley's
+ trance of Emilia--It passes--The Williams' arrive--Friendship
+ with the Shelleys--Allegra placed in a convent--Clare's
+ despair--Shelley's passion for boating--They move to
+ Pugnano--"The boat on the Serchio"--Mary sits to E. Williams
+ for her portrait--Shelley visits Byron at Ravenna 269-293
+
+
+ CHAPTER XIV
+
+ AUGUST-NOVEMBER 1821
+
+ 1821. Letters from Shelley to Mary--He hears from Lord Byron
+ of a scandalous story current about himself--Mary, at his
+ request, writes to Mrs. Hoppner confuting the charges--Letter
+ entrusted to Lord Byron, who neglects to forward it--Shelley
+ visits Allegra at Bagnacavallo--Winter at Pisa--"Tre Palazzi
+ di Chiesa"--Letters: Mary to Miss Curran; Clare to Mary;
+ Shelley to Ollier--_Valperga_ is sent to Godwin--His letter
+ accepting the gift (Jan. 1822)--Extracts 294-315
+
+
+ CHAPTER XV
+
+ NOVEMBER 1821-APRIL 1822
+
+ 1822. Byron comes to Pisa--Letter from Mary to Mrs.
+ Gisborne--Journal--Trelawny arrives--Mary's first impression
+ of him--His description of her--His wonder on seeing
+ Shelley--Life at Pisa--Letters from Mary to Mrs. Gisborne
+ and Mrs. Hunt--Clare's disquiet--Her plans for getting
+ possession of Allegra--Affair of the dragoon--Judicial
+ inquiry--Projected colony at Spezzia--Shelley invites Clare
+ to come--She accepts--Difficulty in finding houses--
+ Allegra's death 316-342
+
+
+ CHAPTER XVI
+
+ APRIL-JULY 1822
+
+ 1822 (April).--Difficulty in breaking the news to Clare--
+ Mary in weak health--Clare, Mary, and Percy sent to Spezzia--
+ Letter from Shelley--He follows with the Williams'--Casa
+ Magni--Clare hears the truth--Her grief--Domestic worries--
+ Mary's illness and suffering--Shelley's great enjoyment of
+ the sea--Williams' journal--The _Ariel_--Godwin's affairs and
+ threatened bankruptcy--Cruel letters--They are kept back from
+ Mary--Mary's letter to Mrs. Gisborne--Her serious illness--
+ Shelley's nervous attacks, dreams and visions--Mrs. Williams'
+ society soothing to him--Arrival of the Leigh Hunts at
+ Genoa--Shelley and Williams go to meet them at Pisa--They
+ sail for Leghorn--Mary's gloomy forebodings--Letters from
+ Shelley and Mrs. Williams--The voyagers' return is anxiously
+ awaited--They never come--Loss of the _Ariel_ 343-369
+
+
+
+
+THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+ They say that thou wert lovely from thy birth,
+ Of glorious parents, thou aspiring Child.
+ I wonder not, for one then left the earth
+ Whose life was like a setting planet mild,
+ Which clothed thee in the radiance undefiled
+ Of its departing glory: still her fame
+ Shines on thee thro' the tempest dark and wild
+ Which shakes these latter days; and thou canst claim
+ The shelter, from thy Sire, of an immortal name.
+ SHELLEY.
+
+
+"So you really have seen Godwin, and had little Mary in your arms! the
+only offspring of a union that will certainly be matchless in the present
+generation." So, in 1798, wrote Sir Henry Taylor's mother to her husband,
+who had travelled from Durham to London for the purpose of making
+acquaintance with the famous author of _Political Justice_.
+
+This "little Mary," the daughter of William and Mary Wollstonecraft
+Godwin, was destined herself to form a union the memory of which will live
+even longer than that of her illustrious parents. She is remembered as
+_Mary Shelley_, wife of the poet. In any complete account of his life she
+plays, next to his, the most important part. Young as she was during the
+few years they passed together, her character and her intellect were
+strong enough to affect, to modify, in some degree to mould his. That he
+became what he did is in great measure due to her. This, if nothing more
+were known of her, would be sufficient to stamp her as a remarkable woman,
+of rare ability and moral excellence, well deserving of a niche in the
+almost universal biographical series of the present day. But, besides
+this, she would have been eminent among her sex at any time, in any
+circumstances, and would, it cannot be doubted, have achieved greater
+personal fame than she actually did but for the fact that she became, at a
+very early age, the wife of Shelley. Not only has his name overshadowed
+her, but the circumstances of her association with him were such as to
+check to a considerable extent her own sources of invention and activity.
+Had that freedom been her lot in which her mother's destiny shaped itself,
+her talents must have asserted themselves as not inferior, as in some
+respects superior, to those of Mary Wollstonecraft. This is the answer to
+the question, sometimes asked,--as if, in becoming Shelley's wife, she had
+forfeited all claim to individual consideration,--why any separate Life of
+her should be written at all. Even as a completion of Shelley's own story,
+Mary's Life is necessary. There remains the fact that her husband's
+biographers have been busy with her name. It is impossible now to pass it
+over in silence and indifference. She has been variously misunderstood. It
+has been her lot to be idealised as one who gave up all for love, and to
+be condemned and anathematised for the very same reason. She has been
+extolled for perfections she did not possess, and decried for the absence
+of those she possessed in the highest degree. She has been lauded as a
+genius, and depreciated as one overrated, whose talent would never have
+been heard of at all but for the name of Shelley. To her husband she has
+been esteemed alternately a blessing and the reverse.
+
+As a fact, it is probable that no woman of like endowments and promise
+ever abdicated her own individuality in favour of another so
+transcendently greater. To consider Mary altogether apart from Shelley is,
+indeed, not possible, but the study of the effect, on life and character,
+of this memorable union is unique of its kind. From Shelley's point of
+view it has been variously considered; from Mary's, as yet, not at all.
+
+
+Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin was born on the 30th of August 1797.
+
+Her father, the philosopher and philosophical novelist, William Godwin,
+began his career as a Dissenting minister in Norfolk, and something of the
+preacher's character adhered to him all his life. Not the apostolic
+preacher. No enthusiasm of faith or devotion, no constraining fervour,
+eliciting the like in others, were his, but a calm, earnest, philosophic
+spirit, with an irresistible impulse to guide and advise others.
+
+This same calm rationalism got the better, in no long time, of his
+religious creed, which he seems to have abandoned slowly, gradually, and
+deliberately, without painful struggle. His religion, of the head alone,
+was easily replaced by other views for which intellectual qualities were
+all-sufficient. Of a cool, unemotional temperament, safe from any snares
+of passion or imagination, he became the very type of a town philosopher.
+Abstractions of the intellect and the philosophy of politics were his
+world. He had a true townsman's love of the theatre, but external nature
+for the most part left him unaffected, as it found him. With the most
+exalted opinion of his own genius and merit, he was nervously susceptible
+to the criticism of others, yet always ready to combat any judgment
+unfavourable to himself. Never weary of argument, he thought that by its
+means, conducted on lines of reason, all questions might be finally
+settled, all problems satisfactorily and speedily solved. Hence the
+fascination he possessed for those in doubt and distress of mind. Cool
+rather than cold-hearted, he had a certain benignity of nature which,
+joined to intellectual exaltation, passed as warmth and fervour. His
+kindness was very great to young men at the "storm and stress" period of
+their lives. They for their part thought that, as he was delighted to
+enter into, discuss and analyse their difficulties, he must, himself, have
+felt all these difficulties and have overcome them; and, whether they
+followed his proffered advice or not, they never failed to look up to him
+as an oracle.
+
+Friendships Godwin had, but of love he seems to have kept absolutely clear
+until at the age of forty-three he met Mary Wollstonecraft. He had not
+much believed in love as a disturbing element, and had openly avowed in
+his writings that he thought it usurped far too large a place in the
+ordinary plan of human life. He did not think it needful to reckon with
+passion or emotion as factors in the sum of existence, and in his ideal
+programme they played no part at all.
+
+Mary Wollstonecraft was in all respects his opposite. Her ardent,
+impulsive, Irish nature had stood the test of an early life of much
+unhappiness. Her childhood's home had been a wretched one; suffering and
+hardship were her earliest companions. She had had not only to maintain
+herself, but to be the support of others weaker than herself, and many of
+these had proved unworthy of her devotion. But her rare nature had risen
+superior to these trials, which, far from crushing her, elicited her
+finest qualities.
+
+The indignation aroused in her by injustice and oppression, her revolt
+against the consecrated tyranny of conventionality, impelled her to raise
+her voice in behalf of the weak and unfortunate. The book which made her
+name famous, _A Vindication of the Rights of Women_, won for her then, as
+it has done since, an admiration from half of mankind only equalled by the
+reprobation of the other half. Yet most of its theories, then considered
+so dangerously extreme, would to-day be contested by few, although the
+frankness of expression thought so shocking now attracted no special
+notice then, and indicated no coarseness of feeling, but only the habit of
+calling things by their names.
+
+In 1792, desiring to become better acquainted with the French language,
+and also to follow on the spot the development of France's efforts in the
+cause of freedom, she went to Paris, where, in a short time, owing to the
+unforeseen progress of the Revolution, she was virtually imprisoned, in
+the sense of being unable to return to England. Here she met Captain
+Gilbert Imlay, an American, between whom and herself an attachment sprang
+up, and whose wife, in all but the legal and religious ceremony, she
+became. This step she took in full conscientiousness. Had she married
+Imlay she must have openly declared her true position as a British
+subject, an act which would have been fraught with the most dangerous,
+perhaps fatal consequences to them both. A woman of strong religious
+feeling, she had upheld the sanctity of marriage in her writings, yet not
+on religious grounds. The heart of marriage, and reason for it, with her,
+was love. She regarded herself as Imlay's lawful wife, and had perfect
+faith in his constancy. It wore out, however, and after causing her much
+suspense, anxiety, and affliction, he finally left her with a little girl
+some eighteen months old. Her grief was excessive, and for a time
+threatened to affect her reason. But her healthy temperament prevailed,
+and the powerful tie of maternal love saved her from the consequences of
+despair. It was well for her that she had to work hard at her literary
+occupations to support herself and her little daughter.
+
+It was at this juncture that she became acquainted with William Godwin.
+They had already met once, before Mary's sojourn in France, but at this
+first interview neither was impressed by the other. Since her return to
+London he had shunned her because she was too much talked about in
+society. Imagining her to be obtrusively "strong-minded" and deficient in
+delicacy, he was too strongly prejudiced against her even to read her
+books. But by degrees he was won over. He saw her warmth of heart, her
+generous temper, her vigour of intellect; he saw too that she had
+suffered. Such susceptibility as he had was fanned into warmth. His
+critical acumen could not but detect her rare quality and worth, although
+the keen sense of humour and Irish charm which fascinated others may, with
+him, have told against her for a time. But the nervous vanity which formed
+his closest link with ordinary human nature must have been flattered by
+the growing preference of one so widely admired, and whom he discovered to
+be even more deserving of admiration and esteem than the world knew. As to
+her, accustomed as she was to homage, she may have felt that for the first
+time she was justly appreciated, and to her wounded and smarting
+susceptibilities this balm of appreciation must have been immeasurable.
+Her first freshness of feeling had been wasted on a love which proved to
+have been one-sided and which had recoiled on itself. To love and be
+loved again was the beginning of a new life for her. And so it came about
+that the coldest of men and the warmest of women found their happiness in
+each other. Thus drawn together, the discipline afforded to her nature by
+the rudest realities of life, to his by the severities of study, had been
+such as to promise a growing and a lasting companionship and affection.
+
+In the short memoir of his wife, prefixed by Godwin to his published
+collection of her letters, he has given his own account, a touching one,
+of the growth and recognition of their love.
+
+ The partiality we conceived for each other was in that mode which I
+ have always considered as the purest and most refined style of love.
+ It would have been impossible for the most minute observer to have
+ said who was before and who was after. One sex did not take the
+ priority which long-established custom has awarded it, nor the other
+ overstep that delicacy which is so severely imposed. I am not
+ conscious that either party can assume to have the agent or the
+ patient, the toil spreader or the prey, in the affair. When in the
+ course of things the disclosure came, there was nothing in a manner
+ for either party to disclose to the other....
+
+ There was no period of throes and resolute explanation attendant on
+ the tale. It was friendship melting into love.
+
+They did not, however, marry at once. Godwin's opinion of marriage, looked
+on as indissoluble, was that it was "a law, and the worst of all laws." In
+accordance with this view, the ceremony did not take place till their
+union had lasted some months, and when it did, it was regarded by Godwin
+in the light of a distinct concession. He expresses himself most
+decisively on this point in a letter to his friend, Mr. Wedgwood of
+Etruria (printed by Mr. Kegan Paul in his memoirs of Godwin), announcing
+his marriage, which had actually taken place a month before, but had been
+kept secret.
+
+ Some persons have found an inconsistency between my practice in this
+ instance and my doctrines. But I cannot see it. The doctrine of my
+ _Political Justice_ is, that an attachment in some degree permanent
+ between two persons of opposite sexes is right, but that marriage, as
+ practised in European countries, is wrong. I still adhere to that
+ opinion. Nothing but a regard for the happiness of the individual,
+ which I have no right to ignore, could have induced me to submit to an
+ institution which I wish to see abolished, and which I would recommend
+ to my fellow-men never to practise but with the greatest caution.
+ Having done what I thought was necessary for the peace and
+ respectability of the individual, I hold myself no otherwise bound
+ than I was before the ceremony took place.
+
+It is certain that he did not repent his concession. But their wedded
+happiness was of short duration. On 30th August 1797 a little girl was
+born to them.
+
+All seemed well at first with the mother. But during the night which
+followed alarming symptoms made their appearance. For a time it was hoped
+that these had been overcome, and a deceptive rally of two days set
+Godwin free from anxiety. But a change for the worst supervened, and after
+four days of intense suffering, sweetly and patiently borne, Mary died,
+and Godwin was again alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+AUGUST 1797-JUNE 1812
+
+
+Alone, in the sense of absence of companionship, but not alone in the
+sense that he was before, for, when he lost his wife, two helpless little
+girl-lives were left dependent on him. One was Fanny, Mary
+Wollstonecraft's child by Imlay, now three and a half years old; the other
+the newly-born baby, named after her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, and the
+subject of this memoir.
+
+The tenderness of her mother's warm heart, her father's ripe wisdom, the
+rich inheritance of intellect and genius which was her birthright, all
+these seemed to promise her the happiest of childhoods. But these bright
+prospects were clouded within a few hours of her birth by that change in
+her mother's condition which, ten days later, ended in death.
+
+The little infant was left to the care of a father of much theoretic
+wisdom but profound practical ignorance, so confirmed in his old bachelor
+ways by years and habit that, even when love so far conquered him as to
+make him quit the single state, he declined family life, and carried on a
+double existence, taking rooms a few doors from his wife's home, and
+combining the joys--as yet none of the cares--of matrimony with the
+independence, and as much as possible of the irresponsibility, of
+bachelorhood. Godwin's sympathies with childhood had been first elicited
+by his intercourse with little Fanny Imlay, whom, from the time of his
+union, he treated as his own daughter, and to whom he was unvaryingly kind
+and indulgent.
+
+He moved at once after his wife's death into the house, Polygon, Somers
+Town, where she had lived, and took up his abode there with the two
+children. They had a nurse, and various lady friends of the Godwins, Mrs.
+Reveley and others, gave occasional assistance or superintendence. An
+experiment was tried of a lady-housekeeper which, however, failed, as the
+lady in becoming devoted to the children showed a disposition to become
+devoted to Godwin also, construing civilities into marked attentions,
+resenting fancied slights, and becoming at last an insupportable thorn in
+the poor philosopher's side. His letters speak of his despondency and
+feeling of unfitness to have the care of these young creatures devolved on
+him, and with this sense there came also the renewed perception of the
+rare maternal qualities of the wife he had lost.
+
+ "The poor children!" he wrote, six weeks after his bereavement. "I am
+ myself totally unfitted to educate them. The scepticism which perhaps
+ sometimes leads me right in matters of speculation is torment to me
+ when I would attempt to direct the infant mind. I am the most unfit
+ person for this office; she was the best qualified in the world. What
+ a change! The loss of the children is less remediless than mine. You
+ can understand the difference."
+
+The immediate consequence of this was that he, who had passed so many
+years in contented bachelorhood, made, within a short time, repeated
+proposals of marriage to different ladies, some of them urged with a
+pertinacity nothing short of ludicrous, so ingenuously and argumentatively
+plain does he make it that he found it simply incredible any woman should
+refuse him to whom he had condescended to propose. His former objections
+to marriage are never now alluded to and seem relegated to the category of
+obsolete theories. Nothing testifies so strongly to his married happiness
+as his constant efforts to recover any part of it, and his faith in the
+possibility of doing so. In 1798 he proposed again and again to a Miss Lee
+whom he had not seen half a dozen times. In 1799 he importuned the
+beautiful Mrs. Reveley, who had, herself, only been a widow for a month,
+to marry him. He was really attached to her, and was much wounded when,
+not long after, she married a Mr. Gisborne.
+
+During Godwin's preoccupations and occasional absences, the kindest and
+most faithful friend the children had was James Marshall, who acted as
+Godwin's amanuensis, and was devotedly attached to him and all who
+belonged to him.
+
+In 1801 Godwin married a Mrs. Clairmont, his next-door neighbour, a widow
+with a son, Charles, about Fanny's age, and a daughter, Jane, somewhat
+younger than little Mary. The new Mrs. Godwin was a clever, bustling,
+second-rate woman, glib of tongue and pen, with a temper undisciplined and
+uncontrolled; not bad-hearted, but with a complete absence of all the
+finer sensibilities; possessing a fund of what is called "knowledge of the
+world," and a plucky, enterprising, happy-go-lucky disposition, which
+seemed to the philosophic and unpractical Godwin, in its way, a
+manifestation of genius. Besides, she was clever enough to admire Godwin,
+and frank enough to tell him so, points which must have been greatly in
+her favour.
+
+Although her father's remarriage proved a source of lifelong unhappiness
+to Mary, it may not have been a bad thing for her and Fanny at the time.
+Instead of being left to the care of servants, with the occasional
+supervision of chance friends, they were looked after with solicitous, if
+not always the most judicious care. The three little girls were near
+enough of an age to be companions to each other, but Fanny was the senior
+by three years and a half. She bore Godwin's name, and was considered and
+treated as the eldest daughter of the house.
+
+Godwin's worldly circumstances were at all times most precarious, nor had
+he the capability or force of will to establish them permanently on a
+better footing. His earnings from his literary works were always
+forestalled long before they were due, and he was in the constant habit of
+applying to his friends for loans or advances of money which often could
+only be repaid by similar aid from some other quarter.
+
+In the hope of mending their fortunes a little, Mrs. Godwin, in 1805,
+induced her husband to make a venture as a publisher. He set up a small
+place of business in Hanway Street, in the name of his foreman, Baldwin,
+deeming that his own name might operate prejudicially with the public on
+account of his advanced political and social opinions, and also that his
+own standing in the literary world might suffer did it become known that
+he was connected with trade.
+
+Mrs. Godwin was the chief practical manager in this business, which
+finally involved her husband in ruin, but for a time promised well enough.
+The chief feature in the enterprise was a "Magazine of Books for the use
+and amusement of children," published by Godwin under the name of Baldwin;
+books of history, mythology, and fable, all admirably written for their
+special purpose. He used to test his juvenile works by reading them to
+his children and observing the effect. Their remark would be (so he says),
+"How easy this is! Why, we learn it by heart almost as fast as we read
+it." "Their suffrage," he adds, "gave me courage, and I carried on my work
+to the end." Mrs. Godwin translated, for the business, several childrens'
+books from the French. Among other works specially written, Lamb's _Tales
+from Shakespeare_ owes its existence to "M. J. Godwin & Co.," the name
+under which the firm was finally established.
+
+New and larger premises were taken in Skinner Street, Holborn, and in the
+autumn of 1807 the whole family, which now included five young ones, of
+whom Charles Clairmont was the eldest, and William, the son of Godwin and
+his second wife, the youngest, removed to a house next door to the
+publishing office. Here they remained until 1822.
+
+No continuous record exists of the family life, and the numerous letters
+of Godwin and Mrs. Godwin when either was absent from home contain only
+occasional references to it. Both parents were too much occupied with
+business systematically to superintend the children's education. Mrs.
+Godwin, however, seems to have taken a bustling interest in ordering it,
+and scrupulously refers to Godwin all points of doubt or discussion. From
+his letters one would judge that, while he gave due attention to each
+point, discussing _pros_ and _cons_ with his deliberate impartiality, his
+wife practically decided everything. Although they sometimes quarrelled
+(on one occasion to the extent of seriously proposing to separate) they
+always made it up again, nor is there any sign that on the subject of the
+children's training they ever had any real difference of opinion. Mrs.
+Godwin's jealous fussiness gave Godwin abundant opportunities for the
+exercise of philosophy, and to the inherent untruthfulness of her manner
+and speech he remained strangely and philosophically blind. From allusions
+in letters we gather that the children had a daily governess, with
+occasional lessons from a master, Mr. Burton. It is often asserted that
+Mrs. Godwin was a harsh and cruel stepmother, who made the children's home
+miserable. There is nothing to prove this. Later on, when moral guidance
+and sympathy were needed, she fell short indeed of what she might have
+been. But for the material wellbeing of the children she cared well
+enough, and was at any rate desirous that they should be happy, whether or
+not she always took the best means of making them so. And Godwin placed
+full confidence in her practical powers.
+
+In May 1811 Mrs. Godwin and all the children except Fanny, who stayed at
+home to keep house for Godwin, went for sea-bathing to Margate, moving
+afterwards to Ramsgate. This had been urged by Mr. Cline, the family
+doctor, for the good of little Mary, who, during some years of her
+otherwise healthy girlhood, suffered from a weakness in one arm. They
+boarded at the house of a Miss Petman, who kept a ladies' school, but had
+their sleeping apartments at an inn or other lodging. Mary, however, was
+sent to stay altogether at Miss Petman's, in order to be quiet, and in
+particular to be out of the way of little William, "he made so boisterous
+a noise when going to bed at night."
+
+The sea-breezes soon worked the desired effect. "Mary's arm is better,"
+writes Mrs. Godwin on the 10th of June. "She begins to move and use it."
+So marked and rapid was the improvement that Mrs. Godwin thought it would
+be as well to leave her behind for a longer stay when the rest returned to
+town, and wrote to consult Godwin about it. His answer is characteristic.
+
+ When I do not answer any of the lesser points in your letters, it is
+ because I fully agree with you, and therefore do not think it
+ necessary to draw out an answer point by point, but am content to
+ assent by silence.... This was the case as to Mary's being left in the
+ care of Miss Petman. It was recommended by Mr. Cline from the first
+ that she should stay six months; to this recommendation we both
+ assented. It shall be so, if it can, and undoubtedly I conceived you,
+ on the spot, most competent to select the residence.
+
+Mary accordingly remained at Miss Petman's as a boarder, perhaps as a
+pupil also, till 19th December, when, from her father's laconic but minute
+and scrupulously accurate diary, we learn that she returned home. For the
+next five months she was in Skinner Street, participating in its busy,
+irregular family life, its ups and downs, its anxieties, discomforts, and
+amusements, its keen intellectual activity and lively interest in social
+and literary matters, in all of which the young people took their full
+share. Entries are frequent in Godwin's diary of visits to the theatre, of
+tea-drinkings, of guests of all sorts at home. One of these guests affords
+us, in his journal, some agreeable glimpses into the Godwin household.
+
+This was the celebrated Aaron Burr, sometime Vice-President of the United
+States, now an exile and a wanderer in Europe.
+
+At the time of his election he had got into disgrace with his party, and,
+when nominated for the Governorship of New York, he had been opposed and
+defeated by his former allies. The bitter contest led to a duel between
+him and Alexander Hamilton, in which the latter was killed. Disfranchised
+by the laws of New York for having fought a duel, and indicted (though
+acquitted) for murder in New Jersey, Burr set out on a journey through the
+Western States, nourishing schemes of sedition and revenge. When he
+purchased 400,000 acres of land on the Red River, and gave his adherents
+to understand that the Spanish Dominions were to be conquered, his
+proceedings excited alarm. President Jefferson issued a proclamation
+against him, and he was arrested on a charge of high treason. Nothing
+could, however, be positively proved, and after a six months' trial he was
+liberated. He at once started for Europe, having planned an attack on
+Mexico, for which he hoped to get funds and adherents. He was
+disappointed, and during the four years which he passed in Europe he often
+lived in the greatest poverty.
+
+On his first visit to England, in 1808, Burr met Godwin only once, but the
+entry in his journal, besides bearing indirect witness to the great
+celebrity of Mary Wollstonecraft in America, gives an idea of the kind of
+impression made on a stranger by the second Mrs. Godwin.
+
+"I have seen the two daughters of Mary Wollstonecraft," he writes. "They
+are very fine children (the eldest no longer a child, being now fifteen),
+but scarcely a discernible trace of the mother. Now Godwin has been seven
+or eight years married to a second wife, a sensible, amiable woman."
+
+For the next four years Burr was a wanderer in Holland and France. His
+journal, kept for the benefit of his daughter Theodosia, to whom he also
+addressed a number of letters, is full of strange and stirring interest.
+In 1812 he came back to England, where it was not long before he drifted
+to Godwin's door. Burr's character was licentious and unscrupulous, but
+his appearance and manners were highly prepossessing; he made friends
+wherever he went. The Godwin household was full of hospitality for such
+Bohemian wanderers as he. Always itself in a precarious state of fortune,
+it held out the hand of fellowship to others whose existence from day to
+day was uncertain. A man of brains and ideas, of congenial and lively
+temperament, was sure of a fraternal welcome. And though many of Godwin's
+older friends were, in time, estranged from him through their antipathy to
+his wife, she was full of patronising good-nature for a man like Burr, who
+well knew how to ingratiate himself.
+
+ _Burr's Journal, February 15, 1812._--Had only time to get to
+ Godwin's, where we dined. In the evening William, the only son of
+ William Godwin, a lad of about nine years old, gave his weekly
+ lecture: having heard how Coleridge and others lectured, he would also
+ lecture, and one of his sisters (Mary, I think) writes a lecture which
+ he reads from a little pulpit which they have erected for him. He went
+ through it with great gravity and decorum. The subject was "The
+ influence of government on the character of a people." After the
+ lecture we had tea, and the girls danced and sang an hour, and at nine
+ came home.
+
+Nothing can give a pleasanter picture of the family, the lively-minded
+children keenly interested in all the subjects and ideas they heard
+freely discussed around them; the elders taking pleasure in encouraging
+the children's first essays of intellect; Mary at fourteen already showing
+her powers of thought and inborn vocation to write, and supplying her
+little brother with ideas. The reverse of the medal appears in the next
+entry, for the genial unconventional household was generally on the verge
+of ruin, and dependent on some expected loan for subsistence in the next
+few months. When once the sought-for assistance came they revelled in
+momentary relief from care.
+
+ _Journal, February 18._--Have gone this evening to Godwin's. They are
+ in trouble. Some financial affair.
+
+It did not weigh long on their spirits.
+
+ _February 24._--Called at Godwin's to leave the newspapers which I
+ borrowed yesterday, and to get that of to-day. _Les goddesses_ (so he
+ habitually designates the three girls) kept me by acclamation to tea
+ with _la printresse_ Hopwood. I agreed to go with the girls to call on
+ her on Friday.
+
+ _February 28._--Was engaged to dine to-day at Godwin's, and to walk
+ with the four dames. After dinner to the Hopwoods. All which was done.
+
+ _March 7._--To Godwin's, where I took tea with the children in their
+ room.
+
+ _March 14._--To Godwin's. He was out. Madame and _les enfans_ upstairs
+ in the bedroom, where they received me, and I drank tea with his
+ _enfans_.... Terribly afraid of vigils to-night, for Jane made my tea,
+ and, I fear, too strong. It is only Fan that I can trust.
+
+ _March 17._--To Godwin's, where took tea with the children, who always
+ have it at 9. Mr. and Madame at 7.
+
+ _March 22._--On to Godwin's; found him at breakfast and joined him.
+ Madame a-bed.
+
+ _Later._--Mr. and Mrs. Godwin would not give me their account, which
+ must be five or six pounds, a very serious sum for them. They say that
+ when I succeed in the world they will call on me for help.
+
+This probably means that the Godwins had lent him money. He was well-nigh
+penniless, and Mrs. Godwin exerted herself to get resources for him, to
+sell one or two books of value which he had, and to get a good price for
+his watch. She knew a good deal of the makeshifts of poverty, and none of
+the family seemed to have grudged time or trouble if they could do a good
+turn to this companion in difficulties. It is a question whether, when
+they talked of his succeeding in the world, they were aware of the
+particular form of success for which he was scheming; in any case they
+seem to have been content to take him as they found him. They were the
+last friends from whom he parted on the eve of sailing for America. His
+entry just before starting is--
+
+ Called and passed an hour with the Godwins. That family does really
+ love me. Fanny, Mary, and Jane, also little William: you must not
+ forget, either, Hannah Hopwood, _la printresse_.
+
+These few months were, very likely, the brightest which Mary ever passed
+at home. Her rapidly growing powers of mind and observation were nourished
+and developed by the stimulating intellectual atmosphere around her; to
+the anxieties and uncertainties which, like birds of ill-omen, hovered
+over the household and were never absent for long together, she was well
+accustomed, besides which she was still too young to be much affected by
+them. She was fond of her sisters, and devoted to her father. Mrs.
+Godwin's temperament can never have been congenial to hers, but occasions
+of collision do not appear to have been frequent, and Fanny, devoted and
+unselfish, only anxious for others to be happy and ready herself to serve
+any of them, was the link between them all. Mary's health was, however,
+not yet satisfactory, and before the summer an opportunity which offered
+itself of change of air was willingly accepted on her behalf by Mr. and
+Mrs. Godwin. In 1809 Godwin had made the acquaintance of Mr. William
+Baxter of Dundee, on the introduction of Mr. David Booth, who afterwards
+became Baxter's son-in-law. Baxter, a man of liberal mind, independence of
+thought and action, and kindly nature, shared to the full the respect
+entertained by most thinking men of that generation for the author of
+_Political Justice_. Godwin, always accessible to sympathetic strangers,
+was at once pleased with this new acquaintance.
+
+"I thank you," he wrote to Booth, "for your introduction of Mr. Baxter. I
+dare swear he is an honest man, and he is no fool." During Baxter's
+several visits to London they became better acquainted. Charles Clairmont
+too, went to Edinburgh in 1811, as a clerk in Constable's printing office,
+where he met and made friends with Baxter's son Robert, who, as well as
+his father, visited the Skinner Street household in London, and through
+whom the intimacy was cemented. In this way it was that Mary was invited
+to come on a long visit to the Baxters at their house, "The Cottage," on
+the banks of the Tay, just outside Dundee, on the road to Broughty Ferry.
+The family included several girls, near Mary's own age, and with true
+Scotch hospitality they pressed her to make one of their family circle for
+an indefinite length of time, until sea-air and sea-bathing should have
+completed the recovery begun the year before at Ramsgate, but which could
+not be maintained in the smoky air and indoor life of London. Accordingly,
+Mary sailed for Dundee on the 8th of June 1812.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+JUNE 1812-MAY 1814
+
+
+ GODWIN TO BAXTER.
+
+ SKINNER STREET, LONDON.
+ _8th June 1812._
+
+ MY DEAR SIR--I have shipped off to you by yesterday's packet, the
+ _Osnaburgh_, Captain Wishart, my only daughter. I attended her, with
+ her two sisters, to the wharf, and remained an hour on board, till the
+ vessel got under way. I cannot help feeling a thousand anxieties in
+ parting with her, for the first time, for so great a distance, and
+ these anxieties were increased by the manner of sending her, on board
+ a ship, with not a single face around her that she had ever seen till
+ that morning. She is four months short of fifteen years of age. I,
+ however, spoke to the captain, using your name; I beside gave her in
+ charge to a lady, by name I believe Mrs. Nelson, of Great St. Helen's,
+ London, who was going to your part of the island in attendance upon an
+ invalid husband. She was surrounded by three daughters when I spoke to
+ her, and she answered me very agreeably. "I shall have none of my own
+ daughters with me, and shall therefore have the more leisure to attend
+ to yours."
+
+ I daresay she will arrive more dead than alive, as she is extremely
+ subject to sea-sickness, and the voyage will, not improbably, last
+ nearly a week. Mr. Cline, the surgeon, however, decides that a
+ sea-voyage would probably be of more service to her than anything.
+
+ I am quite confounded to think what trouble I am bringing on you and
+ your family, and to what a degree I may be said to have taken you in
+ when I took you at your word in your invitation upon so slight an
+ acquaintance. The old proverb says, "He is a wise father who knows his
+ own child," and I feel the justness of the apothegm on the present
+ occasion.
+
+ There never can be a perfect equality between father and child, and if
+ he has other objects and avocations to fill up the greater part of his
+ time, the ordinary resource is for him to proclaim his wishes and
+ commands in a way somewhat sententious and authoritative, and
+ occasionally to utter his censures with seriousness and emphasis.
+
+ It can, therefore, seldom happen that he is the confidant of his
+ child, or that the child does not feel some degree of awe or restraint
+ in intercourse with him. I am not, therefore, a perfect judge of
+ Mary's character. I believe she has nothing of what is commonly called
+ vices, and that she has considerable talent. But I tremble for the
+ trouble I may be bringing on you in this visit. In my last I desired
+ that you would consider the first two or three weeks as a trial, how
+ far you can ensure her, or, more fairly and impartially speaking, how
+ far her habits and conceptions may be such as to put your family very
+ unreasonably out of their way; and I expect from the frankness and
+ ingenuousness of yours of the 29th inst. (which by the way was so
+ ingenuous as to come without a seal) that you will not for a moment
+ hesitate to inform me if such should be the case. When I say all this,
+ I hope you will be aware that I do not desire that she should be
+ treated with extraordinary attention, or that any one of your family
+ should put themselves in the smallest degree out of their way on her
+ account. I am anxious that she should be brought up (in this respect)
+ like a philosopher, even like a cynic. It will add greatly to the
+ strength and worth of her character. I should also observe that she
+ has no love of dissipation, and will be perfectly satisfied with your
+ woods and your mountains. I wish, too, that she should be _excited_
+ to industry. She has occasionally great perseverance, but
+ occasionally, too, she shows great need to be roused.
+
+ You are aware that she comes to the sea-side for the purpose of
+ bathing. I should wish that you would inquire now and then into the
+ regularity of that. She will want also some treatment for her arm, but
+ she has Mr. Cline's directions completely in all these points, and
+ will probably not require a professional man to look after her while
+ she is with you. In all other respects except her arm she has
+ admirable health, has an excellent appetite, and is capable of
+ enduring fatigue. Mrs. Godwin reminds me that I ought to have said
+ something about troubling your daughters to procure a washerwoman. But
+ I trust that, without its being necessary to be thus minute, you will
+ proceed on the basis of our being earnest to give you as little
+ trouble as the nature of the case will allow.--I am, my dear sir, with
+ great regard, yours,
+
+ WILLIAM GODWIN.
+
+At Dundee, with the Baxters, Mary remained for five months. She was
+treated as a sister by the Baxter girls, one of whom, Isabella, afterwards
+the wife of David Booth, became her most intimate friend. An elder sister,
+Miss Christian Baxter, to whom the present writer is indebted for a few
+personal reminiscences of Mary Godwin, only died in 1886, and was probably
+the last survivor of those who remembered Mary in her girlhood. They were
+all fond of their new companion. She was agreeable, vivacious, and
+sparkling; very pretty, with fair hair and complexion, and clear, bright
+white skin. The Baxters were people of education and culture, active
+minded, fond of reading, and alive to external impressions. The young
+people were well and carefully brought up. Mary shared in all their
+studies.
+
+Music they did not care for, but all were fond of drawing and painting,
+and had good lessons. A great deal of time was spent in touring about, in
+long walks and drives through the moors and mountains of Forfarshire. They
+took pains to make Mary acquainted with all the country round, besides
+which it was laid on her as a duty to get as much fresh air as she could,
+and she must greatly have enjoyed the well-ordered yet easy life, the
+complete change of scene and companionship. When, on the 10th of November,
+she arrived again in Skinner Street, she brought Christy Baxter with her,
+for a long return visit to London. If Mary had enjoyed her country outing,
+still more keenly did the homely Scotch girl relish her first taste of
+London life and society. At ninety-two years old the impression of her
+pleasure in it, of her interest in all the notable people with whom she
+came in contact, was as vivid as ever.
+
+The literary and artistic circle which still hung about the Skinner Street
+philosophers was to Christy a new world, of which, except from books, she
+had formed no idea. Books, however, had laid the foundation of keenest
+interest in all she was to see. She was constantly in company with Lamb,
+Hazlitt, Coleridge, Constable, and many more, hitherto known to her only
+by name. Of Charles Lamb especially, of his wit, humour, and quaintness
+she retained the liveliest recollection, and he had evidently a great
+liking for her, referring jokingly to her in his letters as "Doctor
+Christy," and often inviting her, with the Godwin family, to tea, to meet
+her relatives, when up in town, or other friends.
+
+On 11th November, the very day after the two girls arrived in London, a
+meeting occurred of no special interest to Christy at the time, and which
+she would have soon forgotten but for subsequent events. Three guests came
+to dinner at Godwin's. These were Percy Bysshe Shelley with his wife
+Harriet, and her sister, Eliza Westbrook. Christy Baxter well remembered
+this, but her chief recollection was of Harriet, her beauty, her brilliant
+complexion and lovely hair, and the elegance of her purple satin dress. Of
+Shelley, how he looked, what he said or did, what they all thought of him,
+she had observed nothing, except that he was very attentive to Harriet.
+The meeting was of no apparent significance and passed without remark:
+little indeed did any one foresee the drama soon to follow. Plenty of more
+important days, more interesting meetings to Christy, followed during the
+next few months. She shared Mary's room during this time, but her memory,
+in old age, afforded few details of their everyday intercourse. Indeed,
+although they spent so much time together, these two were never very
+intimate. Isabella Baxter, afterwards Mrs. Booth, was Mary's especial
+friend and chief correspondent, and it is much to be regretted that none
+of their girlish letters have been preserved.
+
+The four girls had plenty of liberty, and, what with reading and talk,
+with constantly varied society enjoyed in the intimate unconstrained way
+of those who cannot afford the _appareil_ of convention, with tolerably
+frequent visits at friends' houses and not seldom to the theatre, when
+Godwin, as often happened, got a box sent him, they had plenty of
+amusement too. Godwin's diary keeps a wonderfully minute skeleton account
+of all their doings. Christy enjoyed it all as only a novice can do. All
+her recollections of the family life were agreeable; if anything had left
+an unpleasing impression it had faded away in 1883, when the present
+writer saw her. For Godwin she entertained a warm respect and affection.
+They did not see very much of him, but Christy was a favourite of his, and
+he would sometimes take a quiet pleasure, not unmixed with amusement, in
+listening to their girlish talks and arguments. One such discussion she
+distinctly remembered, on the subject of woman's vocation, as to whether
+it should be purely domestic, or whether they should engage in outside
+interests. Mary and Jane upheld the latter view, Fanny and Christy the
+other.
+
+Mrs. Godwin was kind to Christy, who always saw her best side, and never
+would hear a word said against her. Her deficiencies were not palpable to
+an outsider whom she liked and chose to patronise, nor did Christy appear
+to have felt the inherent untruthfulness in Mrs. Godwin's character,
+although one famous instance of it was recorded by Isabella Baxter, and is
+given at length in Mr. Kegan Paul's _Life of Godwin_.
+
+The various members of the family had more independence of habits than is
+common in English domestic life. This was perhaps a relic of Godwin's old
+idea, that much evil and weariness resulted from the supposed necessity
+that the members of a family should spend all or most of their time in
+each other's company. He always breakfasted alone. Mrs. Godwin did so
+also, and not till mid-day. The young folks had theirs together. Dinner
+was a family meal, but supper seems to have been a movable feast. Jane
+Clairmont, of whose education not much is known beyond the fact that she
+was sometimes at school, was at home for a part if not all of this time.
+She was lively and quick-witted, and probably rather unmanageable. Fanny
+was more reflective, less sanguine, more alive to the prosaic obligations
+of life, and with a keen sense of domestic duty, early developed in her by
+necessity and by her position as the eldest of this somewhat anomalous
+family. Godwin, by nature as undemonstrative as possible, showed more
+affection to Fanny than to any one else. He always turned to her for any
+little service he might require. It seemed, said Christy, as though he
+would fain have guarded against the possibility of her feeling that she,
+an orphan, was less to him than the others. Christy was of opinion that
+Fanny was not made aware of her real position till her quite later years,
+a fact which, if true, goes far towards explaining much of her after life.
+It seems most likely, at any rate, that at this time she was unacquainted
+with the circumstances of her birth. To Godwin she had always seemed like
+his own eldest child, the first he had cared for or who had been fond of
+him, and his dependence on her was not surprising, for no daughter could
+have tended him with more solicitous care; besides which, she was one of
+those people, ready to do anything for everybody, who are always at the
+beck and call of others, and always in request. She filled the home, to
+which Mary, so constantly absent, was just now only a visitor.
+
+It must have been at about this time that Godwin received a letter from an
+unknown correspondent, who expressed much curiosity to know whether his
+children were brought up in accordance with the ideas, by some considered
+so revolutionary and dangerous, of Mary Wollstonecraft, and what the
+result was of reducing her theories to actual practice. Godwin's answer,
+giving his own description of her two daughters, has often been printed,
+but it is worth giving here.
+
+ Your inquiries relate principally to the two daughters of Mary
+ Wollstonecraft. They are neither of them brought up with an exclusive
+ attention to the system of their mother. I lost her in 1797, and in
+ 1801 I married a second time. One among the motives which led me to
+ choose this was the feeling I had in myself of an incompetence for the
+ education of daughters. The present Mrs. Godwin has great strength and
+ activity of mind, but is not exclusively a follower of their mother;
+ and indeed, having formed a family establishment without having a
+ previous provision for the support of a family, neither Mrs. Godwin
+ nor I have leisure enough for reducing novel theories of education to
+ practice, while we both of us honestly endeavour, as far as our
+ opportunities will permit, to improve the minds and characters of the
+ younger branches of the family.
+
+ Of the two persons to whom your inquiries relate, my own daughter is
+ considerably superior in capacity to the one her mother had before.
+ Fanny, the eldest, is of a quiet, modest, unshowy disposition,
+ somewhat given to indolence, which is her greatest fault, but sober,
+ observing, peculiarly clear and distinct in the faculty of memory, and
+ disposed to exercise her own thoughts and follow her own judgment.
+ Mary, my daughter, is the reverse of her in many particulars. She is
+ singularly bold, somewhat imperious, and active of mind. Her desire
+ of knowledge is great, and her perseverance in everything she
+ undertakes almost invincible. My own daughter is, I believe, very
+ pretty. Fanny is by no means handsome, but, in general, prepossessing.
+
+On the 3d of June Mary accompanied Christy back to Dundee, where she
+remained for the next ten months.
+
+No account remains of her life there, but there can be doubt that her
+mental and intellectual powers matured rapidly, and that she learned,
+read, and thought far more than is common even with clever girls of her
+age. The girl who at seventeen is an intellectual companion for a Shelley
+cannot often have needed to be "excited to industry," unless indeed when
+she indulged in day-dreams, as, from her own account given in the preface
+to her novel of _Frankenstein_, we know she sometimes did. Proud of her
+parentage, idolising the memory of her mother, about whom she gathered and
+treasured every scrap of information she could obtain, and of whose
+history and writings she probably now learned more than she had done at
+home, accustomed from her childhood to the daily society of authors and
+literary men, the pen was her earliest toy, and now the attempt at
+original composition was her chosen occupation.
+
+ "As a child," she says, "I scribbled; and my favourite pastime, during
+ the hours given me for recreation, was to 'write stories.' Still I had
+ a dearer pleasure than this, which was the formation of castles in
+ the air,--the indulging in waking dreams,--the following up trains of
+ thought which had for their subject the formation of a succession of
+ imaginary incidents. My dreams were at once more fantastic and
+ agreeable than my writings. In the latter I was a close imitator,
+ rather doing as others had done than putting down the suggestions of
+ my own mind. What I wrote was intended at least for one other eye--my
+ childhood's companion and friend" (probably Isabel Baxter)--"but my
+ dreams were all my own. I accounted for them to nobody; they were my
+ refuge when annoyed, my dearest pleasure when free.
+
+ "I lived principally in the country as a girl, and passed a
+ considerable time in Scotland. I made occasional visits to the more
+ picturesque parts; but my habitual residence was on the blank and
+ dreary northern shores of the Tay, near Dundee. Blank and dreary on
+ retrospection I call them; they were not so to me then. They were the
+ eyry of freedom, and the pleasant region where unheeded I could
+ commune with the creatures of my fancy. I wrote then, but in a most
+ commonplace style. It was beneath the trees of the grounds belonging
+ to our house, or on the bleak sides of the woodless mountains near,
+ that my true compositions, the airy flights of my imagination, were
+ born and fostered. I did not make myself the heroine of my tales. Life
+ appeared to me too commonplace an affair as regarded myself. I could
+ not figure to myself that romantic woes or wonderful events would ever
+ be my lot; but I was not confined to my own identity, and I could
+ people the hours with creations far more interesting to me, at that
+ age, than my own sensations."
+
+From the entry in Godwin's diary, "M. W. G. at supper," for 30th March
+1814, we learn that Mary returned to Skinner Street on that day. She now
+resumed her place in the home circle, a very different person from the
+little Mary who went to Ramsgate in 1811. Although only sixteen and a
+half she was in the bloom of her girlhood, very pretty, very interesting
+in appearance, thoughtful and intelligent beyond her years. She did not
+settle down easily into her old place, and probably only realised
+gradually how much she had altered since she last lived at home. Perhaps,
+too, she saw that home in a new light. After the well-ordered, cheerful
+family life of the Baxters, the somewhat Bohemianism of Skinner Street may
+have seemed a little strange. A household with a philosopher for one of
+its heads, and a fussy, unscrupulous woman of business for the other, may
+have its amusing sides, and we have seen that it had; but it is not
+necessarily comfortable, still less sympathetic to a young and earnest
+nature, just awakening to a consciousness of the realities of life, at
+that transition stage when so much is chaotic and confusing to those who
+are beginning to think and to feel. One may well imagine that all was not
+smooth for poor Mary. Her stepmother's jarring temperament must have
+grated on her more keenly than ever after her long absence. Years and
+anxieties did not improve Mrs. Godwin's temper, nor bring refinement or a
+nice sense of honour to a nature singularly deficient in both. Mary must
+have had to take refuge from annoyance in day-dreams pretty frequently,
+and this was a sure and constant source of irritation to her stepmother.
+Jane Clairmont, wilful, rebellious, witty, and probably a good deal
+spoilt, whose subsequent conduct shows that she was utterly unamenable to
+her mother's authority, was, at first, away at school. Fanny was the good
+angel of the house, but her persistent defence of every one attacked, and
+her determination to make the best of things and people as they were,
+seemed almost irritating to those who were smarting under daily and hourly
+little grievances. Compliance often looks like cowardice to the young and
+bold. Nor did Mary get any help from her father. A little affection and
+kindly sympathy from him would have gone a long way with her, for she
+loved him dearly. Long afterwards she alluded to his "calm, silent
+disapproval" when displeased, and to the bitter remorse and unhappiness it
+would cause her, although unspoken, and only instinctively felt by her.
+All her stepmother's scoldings would have failed to produce a like effect.
+But Godwin, though sincerely solicitous about the children's welfare, was
+self-concentrated, and had little real insight into character. Besides, he
+was, as usual, hampered about money matters; and when constant anxiety as
+to where to get his next loan was added to the preoccupation of
+authorship, and the unavoidable distraction of such details as reached him
+of the publishing business, he had little thought or attention to bestow
+on the daughter who had arrived at so critical a time of her mental and
+moral history. He welcomed her home, but then took little more notice of
+her. If she and her stepmother disagreed, Godwin, when forced to take part
+in the matter, probably found it the best policy to side with his wife.
+Yet the situation would have been worth his attention. Here was this girl,
+Mary Wollstonecraft's daughter, who had left home a clever, unformed
+child, who had returned to it a maiden in her bloom, pretty and
+attractive, with ardour, ability, and ambition, with conscious powers that
+had not found their right use, with unsatisfied affections seeking an
+object. True, she might in time have found threads to gather up in her own
+home. But she was young, impatient, and unhappy. Mrs. Godwin was
+repellent, uncongenial, and very jealous of her. All that a daughter could
+do for Godwin seemed to be done by Fanny. When Jane came home it was on
+her that Mary was chiefly thrown for society. Her lively spirits and quick
+wit made her excellent company, and she was ready enough to make the most
+of grievances, and to head any revolt. Fanny, far more deserving of
+sisterly sympathy and far more in need of it, seemed to belong to the
+opposite camp.
+
+Time, kindly judicious guidance, and sustained effort on her own part
+might have cleared Mary's path and made things straight for her. Her
+heart was as sound and true as her intellect, but this critical time was
+rendered more dangerous, it may well be, by her knowledge of the existence
+of many theories on vexed subjects, making her feel keenly her own
+inexperience and want of a guide.
+
+The guide she found was one who himself had wandered till now over many
+perplexing paths, led by the light of a restless, sleepless genius, and an
+inextinguishable yearning to find, to know, to do, to be the best.
+
+Godwin's diary records on the 5th of May "Shelley calls." As far as can be
+known this was the first occasion since the dinner of the 11th of November
+1812, when Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin saw Percy Bysshe Shelley.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+APRIL-JUNE 1814
+
+
+Although she had seen Shelley only once, Mary had heard a good deal about
+him. More than two years before this time Godwin had received a letter
+from a stranger, a very young man, desirous of becoming acquainted with
+him. The writer had, it said, been under the impression that the great
+philosopher, the object of his reverential admiration, whom he now
+addressed, was one of the mighty dead. That such was not the case he had
+now learned for the first time, and the most ardent wish of his heart was
+to be admitted to the privilege of intercourse with one whom he regarded
+as "a luminary too bright for the darkness which surrounds him." "If," he
+concluded, "desire for universal happiness has any claim upon your
+preference, that desire I can exhibit."
+
+Such neophytes never knelt to Godwin in vain. He did not, at first, feel
+specially interested in this one; still, the kindly tone of his reply led
+to further correspondence, in the course of which the new disciple, Mr.
+Percy Bysshe Shelley, gave Godwin a sketch of the events of his past life.
+Godwin learned that his correspondent was the son of a country squire in
+Sussex, was heir to a baronetcy and a considerable fortune; that he had
+been expelled from Oxford for publishing, and refusing to deny the
+authorship of, a pamphlet called "The Necessity of Atheism"; that his
+father, having no sympathy either with his literary tastes or speculative
+views, and still less with his method of putting the latter in practice,
+had required from him certain concessions and promises which he had
+declined to make, and so had been cast off by his family, his father
+refusing to communicate with him, except through a solicitor, allowing him
+a sum barely enough for his own wants, and that professedly to "prevent
+his cheating strangers." That, undeterred by all this, he had, at
+nineteen, married a woman three years younger, whose "pursuits, hopes,
+fears, and sorrows" had been like his own; and that he hoped to devote his
+life and powers to the regeneration of mankind and society.
+
+There was something remarkable about these letters, something that bespoke
+a mind, ill-balanced it might be, but yet of no common order. Whatever the
+worth of the writer's opinions, there could be no doubt that he had the
+gift of eloquence in their expression. Half interested and half amused,
+with a vague perception of Shelley's genius, and a certain instinctive
+deference of which he could not divest himself towards the heir to L6000 a
+year, Godwin continued the correspondence with a frequency and an
+unreserve most flattering to the younger man.
+
+Not long after this, the disciple announced that he had gone off, with his
+wife and her sister, to Ireland, for the avowed purpose of forwarding the
+Catholic Emancipation and the Repeal of the Union. His scheme was "the
+organisation of a society whose institution shall serve as a bond to its
+members for the purposes of virtue, happiness, liberty, and wisdom, by the
+means of intellectual opposition to grievances." He published and
+distributed an "Address to the Irish People," setting before them their
+grievances, their rights, and their duties.
+
+This object Godwin regarded as an utter mistake, its practical furtherance
+as extremely perilous. Dreading the contagion of excitement, its tendency
+to prevent sober judgment and promote precipitate action, he condemned
+associations of men for any public purpose whatever. His calm temperament
+would fain have dissevered impulse and action altogether as cause and
+effect, and he had a shrinking, constitutional as well as philosophic,
+from any tendency to "strike while the iron is hot."
+
+"The thing most to be desired," he wrote, "is to keep up the intellectual,
+and in some sense the solitary fermentation, and to procrastinate the
+contact and consequent action." "Shelley! you are preparing a scene of
+blood," was his solemn warning.
+
+Nothing could have been further from Shelley's thoughts than such a scene.
+Surprised and disappointed, he ingenuously confessed to Godwin that his
+association scheme had grown out of notions of political justice, first
+generated by Godwin's own book on that subject; and the mentor found
+himself in the position of an involuntary illustration of his own theory,
+expressed in the _Enquirer_ (Essay XX), "It is by no means impossible that
+the books most pernicious in their effects that ever were produced, were
+written with intentions uncommonly elevated and pure."
+
+Shelley, animated by an ardent enthusiasm of humanity, looked to
+association as likely to spread a contagion indeed, but a contagion of
+good. The revolution he preached was a Millennium.
+
+ If you are convinced of the truth of your cause, trust wholly to its
+ truth; if you are not convinced, give it up. In no case employ
+ violence; the way to liberty and happiness is never to transgress the
+ rules of virtue and justice.
+
+ Before anything can be done with effect, habits of sobriety,
+ regularity, and thought must be entered into and firmly resolved on.
+
+ I will repeat, that virtue and wisdom are necessary to true happiness
+ and liberty.
+
+ Before the restraints of government are lessened, it is fit that we
+ should lessen the necessity for them. Before government is done away
+ with, we must reform ourselves. It is this work which I would
+ earnestly recommend to you. O Irishmen, reform yourselves.[1]
+
+Whatever evil results Godwin may have apprehended from Shelley's
+proceedings, these sentiments taken in the abstract could not but enlist
+his sympathies to some extent on behalf of the deluded young optimist, nor
+did he keep the fact a secret. Shelley's letters, as well as the Irish
+pamphlet, were eagerly read and discussed by all the young philosophers of
+Skinner Street.
+
+"You cannot imagine," Godwin wrote to him, "how much all the females of my
+family--Mrs. Godwin and three daughters--are interested in your letters
+and your history."
+
+Publicly propounded, however, Shelley's sentiments proved insufficiently
+attractive to those to whom they were addressed. At a public meeting where
+he had ventured to enjoin on Catholics a tolerance so universal as to
+embrace not only Jews, Turks, and Infidels, but Protestants also, he
+narrowly escaped being mobbed. It was borne in upon him before long that
+the possibility, under existing conditions, of realising his scheme for
+associations of peace and virtue, was doubtful and distant. He abandoned
+his intention and left Ireland, professedly in submission to Godwin, but
+in fact convinced by what he had seen. Godwin was delighted.
+
+"Now I can call you a friend," he wrote, and the good understanding of the
+two was cemented.
+
+After repeated but fruitless invitations from the Shelleys to the whole
+Godwin party to come and stay with them in Wales, Godwin, early in the
+autumn of this year (1812) actually made an expedition to Lynmouth, where
+his unknown friends were staying, in the hope of effecting a personal
+acquaintance, but his object was frustrated, the Shelleys having left the
+place just before he arrived.
+
+They first met in London, in the month of October, and frequent, almost
+daily intercourse took place between the families. On the last day of
+their stay in town the Shelleys, with Eliza Westbrook, dined in Skinner
+Street. Mary Godwin, who had been for five months past in Scotland, had
+returned, as we know, with Christy Baxter the day before, and was, no
+doubt, very glad not to miss this opportunity of seeing the interesting
+young reformer of whom she had heard so much. His wife he had always
+spoken of as one who shared his tastes and opinions. No doubt they all
+thought her a fortunate woman, and Mary in after years would well recall
+her smiling face, and pink and white complexion, and her purple satin
+gown.
+
+During the year and a half that had elapsed since that time Mary had
+been chiefly away, and had heard little if anything of Shelley. In the
+spring of 1814, however, he came up to town to see her father on
+business,--business in which Godwin was deeply and solely concerned, about
+which he was desperately anxious, and in which Mary knew that Shelley was
+doing all in his power to help him. These matters had been going on for
+some time, when, on the 5th of May, he came to Skinner Street, and Mary
+and he renewed acquaintance. Both had altered since the last time they
+met. Mary, from a child had grown into a young, attractive, and
+interesting girl. Hers was not the sweet sensuous loveliness of her
+mother, but with her well-shaped head and intellectual brow, her fine fair
+hair and liquid hazel eyes, and a skin and complexion of singular
+whiteness and purity, she possessed beauty of a rare and refined type. She
+was somewhat below the medium height; very graceful, with drooping
+shoulders and swan-like throat. The serene eloquent eyes contrasted with a
+small mouth, indicative of a certain reserve of temperament, which, in
+fact, always distinguished her, and beneath which those who did not know
+her might not have suspected her vigour of intellect and fearlessness of
+thought.
+
+Shelley, too, was changed; why, was in his case not so evident. Mary
+would have heard how, just before her return home, he had been remarried
+to his wife; Godwin, the opponent of matrimony, having, mysteriously
+enough, been instrumental in procuring the licence for this superfluous
+ceremony; superfluous, as the parties had been quite legally married in
+Scotland three years before. His wife was not now with him in London. He
+was alone, and appeared saddened in aspect, ailing in health, unsettled
+and anxious in mind. It was impossible that Mary should not observe him
+with interest. She saw that, although so young a man, he not only could
+hold his own in discussion of literary, philosophical, or political
+questions with the wisest heads and deepest thinkers of his generation,
+but could throw new light on every subject he touched. His glowing
+imagination transfigured and idealised what it dwelt on, while his magical
+words seemed to recreate whatever he described. She learned that he was a
+poet. His conversation would call up her old day-dreams again, though,
+before it, they paled and faded like morning mists before the sun. She
+saw, too, that his disposition was most amiable, his manners gentle, his
+conversation absolutely free from suspicion of coarseness, and that he was
+a disinterested and devoted friend.
+
+Before long she must have become conscious that he took pleasure in
+talking with her. She could not but see that, while his melancholy and
+disquiet grew upon him every day, she possessed the power of banishing it
+for the time. Her presence illumined him; life and hopeful enthusiasm
+would flash anew from him if she was by. This intercourse stimulated all
+her intellectual powers, and its first effect was to increase her already
+keen desire of knowledge. To keep pace with the electric mind of this
+companion required some effort on her part, and she applied herself with
+renewed zeal to her studies. Nothing irritated her stepmother so much as
+to see her deep in a book, and in order to escape from Mrs. Godwin's petty
+persecution Mary used, whenever she could, to transport herself and her
+occupations to Old St. Pancras Churchyard, where she had been in the habit
+of coming to visit her mother's grave. There, under the shade of a willow
+tree, she would sit, book in hand, and sometimes read, but not always. The
+day-dreams of Dundee would now and again return upon her. How long she
+seemed to have lived since that time! Life no longer seemed "so
+commonplace an affair," nor yet her own part in it so infinitesimal if
+Shelley thought her conversation and companionship worth the having.
+
+Before very long he had found out the secret of her retreat, and used to
+meet her there. He revered the memory of Mary Wollstonecraft, and her
+grave was to him a consecrated shrine of which her daughter was the
+priestess.
+
+By June they had become intimate friends, though Mary was still ignorant
+of the secret of his life.
+
+On the 8th of June occurred the meeting described by Hogg in his _Life of
+Shelley_. The two friends were walking through Skinner Street when Shelley
+said to Hogg, "I must speak with Godwin; come in, I will not detain you
+long." Hogg continues--
+
+ I followed him through the shop, which was the only entrance, and
+ upstairs we entered a room on the first floor; it was shaped like a
+ quadrant. In the arc were windows; in one radius a fireplace, and in
+ the other a door, and shelves with many old books. William Godwin was
+ not at home. Bysshe strode about the room, causing the crazy floor of
+ the ill-built, unowned dwelling-house to shake and tremble under his
+ impatient footsteps. He appeared to be displeased at not finding the
+ fountain of Political Justice.
+
+ "Where is Godwin?" he asked me several times, as if I knew. I did not
+ know, and, to say the truth, I did not care. He continued his uneasy
+ promenade; and I stood reading the names of old English authors on the
+ backs of the venerable volumes, when the door was partially and softly
+ opened. A thrilling voice called "Shelley!" A thrilling voice answered
+ "Mary!" and he darted out of the room, like an arrow from the bow of
+ the far-shooting king. A very young female, fair and fair-haired, pale
+ indeed, and with a piercing look, wearing a frock of tartan, an
+ unusual dress in London at that time, had called him out of the room.
+ He was absent a very short time, a minute or two, and then returned.
+
+ "Godwin is out, there is no use in waiting." So we continued our walk
+ along Holborn.
+
+ "Who was that, pray?" I asked, "a daughter?"
+
+ "Yes."
+
+ "A daughter of William Godwin?"
+
+ "The daughter of Godwin and Mary."
+
+Hogg asked no more questions, but something in this momentary interview
+and in the look of the fair-haired girl left an impression on his mind
+which he did not at once forget.
+
+Godwin was all this time seeking and encouraging Shelley's visits. He was
+in feverish distress for money, bankruptcy was hanging over his head; and
+Shelley was exerting all his energies and influence to raise a large sum,
+it is said as much as L3000, for him. It is a melancholy fact that the
+philosopher had got to regard those who, in the thirsty search for truth
+and knowledge, had attached themselves to him, in the secondary light of
+possible sources of income, and, when in difficulties, he came upon them
+one after another for loans or advances of money, which, at first begged
+for as a kindness, came to be claimed by him almost as a right.
+
+Shelley's own affairs were in a most unsatisfactory state. L200 a year
+from his father, and as much from his wife's father was all he had to
+depend upon, and his unsettled life and frequent journeys, generous
+disposition and careless ways, made fearful inroads on his narrow income,
+notwithstanding the fact that he lived with Spartan frugality as far as
+his own habits were concerned. Little as he had, he never knew how little
+it was nor how far it would go, and, while he strained every nerve to save
+from ruin one whom he still considered his intellectual father, he was
+himself sorely hampered by want of money.
+
+Visits to lawyers by Godwin, Shelley, or both, were of increasingly
+frequent occurrence during May; in June we learn of as many as two or
+three in a day. While this was going on, Shelley, the forlorn hope of
+Skinner Street, could not be lost sight of. If he seemed to find pleasure
+in Mary's society, this probably flattered Mary's father, who, though
+really knowing little of his child, was undoubtedly proud of her, her
+beauty, and her promise of remarkable talent. Like other fathers, he
+thought of her as a child, and, had there been any occasion for suspicion
+or remark, the fact of Shelley's being a married man with a lovely wife,
+would take away any excuse for dwelling on it. The Shelleys had not been
+favourites with Mrs. Godwin, who, the year before, had offended or chosen
+to quarrel with Harriet Shelley. The respective husbands had succeeded in
+smoothing over the difficulty, which was subsequently ignored. No love was
+lost, however, between the Shelleys and the head of the firm of M. J.
+Godwin & Co., who, however, was not now likely to do or say anything
+calculated to drive from the house one who, for the present, was its sole
+chance of existence.
+
+From the 20th of June until the end of the month Shelley was at Skinner
+Street every day, often to dinner.
+
+By that time he and Mary had realised, only too well, the depth of their
+mutual feeling, and on some one day, what day we do not know, they owned
+it to each other. His history was poured out to her, not as it appears in
+the cold impartial light of after years perhaps, but as he felt it then,
+aching and smarting from life's fresh wounds and stings. She heard of his
+difficulties, his rebuffs, his mistakes in action, his disappointments in
+friendship, his fruitless sacrifices for what he held to be the truth; his
+hopes and his hopelessness, his isolation of soul and his craving for
+sympathy. She guessed, for he was still silent on this point, that he
+found it not in his home. She faced her feelings then; they were past
+mistake. But it never occurred to her mind that there was any possible
+future but a life's separation to souls so situated. She could be his
+friend, never anything more to him.
+
+As a memento of that interview Shelley gave or sent her a copy of _Queen
+Mab_, his first published poem. This book (still in existence) has,
+written in pencil inside the cover, the name "Mary Wollstonecraft
+Godwin," and, on the inner flyleaf, the words, "You see, Mary, I have not
+forgotten you." Under the printed dedication to his wife is the enigmatic
+but suggestive remark, carefully written in ink, "Count Slobendorf was
+about to marry a woman, who, attracted solely by his fortune, proved her
+selfishness by deserting him in prison."[2] On the flyleaves at the end
+Mary wrote in July 1814--
+
+ This book is sacred to me, and as no other creature shall ever look
+ into it, I may write what I please. Yet what shall I write? That I
+ love the author beyond all powers of expression, and that I am parted
+ from him. Dearest and only love, by that love we have promised to each
+ other, although I may not be yours, I can never be another's. But I am
+ thine, exclusively thine.
+
+ By the kiss of love, the glance none saw beside,
+ The smile none else might understand,
+ The whispered thought of hearts allied,
+ The pressure of the thrilling hand.[3]
+
+ I have pledged myself to thee, and sacred is the gift. I remember your
+ words. "You are now, Mary, going to mix with many, and for a moment I
+ shall depart, but in the solitude of your chamber I shall be with
+ you." Yes, you are ever with me, sacred vision.
+
+ But ah! I feel in this was given
+ A blessing never meant for me,
+ Thou art too like a dream from heaven
+ For earthly love to merit thee.[4]
+
+With this mutual consciousness, yet obliged inevitably to meet, thrown
+constantly in each other's way, Mary obliged too to look on Shelley as her
+father's benefactor and support, their situation was a miserable one. As
+for Shelley, when he had once broken silence he passed rapidly from tender
+affection to the most passionate love. His heart and brain were alike on
+fire, for at the root of his deep depression and unsettlement lay the
+fact, known as yet only to himself, of complete estrangement between
+himself and his wife.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+JUNE-AUGUST 1814
+
+
+Perhaps of all the objects of Shelley's devotion up to this time, Harriet,
+his wife, was the only one with whom he had never, in the ideal sense,
+been in love. Possibly this was one reason that against her alone he never
+had the violent revulsion, almost amounting to loathing, which was the
+usual reaction after his other passionate illusions. He had eloped with
+her when they were but boy and girl because he found her ready to elope
+with him, and because he was persuaded that she was a victim of tyranny
+and oppression, which, to this modern knight-errant, was tantamount to an
+obligation laid on him to rescue her. Having eloped with her, he had
+married her, for her sake, and from a sense of chivalry, only with a
+quaint sort of apology to his friend Hogg for this early departure from
+his own principles and those of the philosophic writers who had helped to
+mould his views. His affection for his wife had steadily increased after
+their marriage; she was fond of him and satisfied with her lot, and had
+made things very easy for him. She could not give him anything very deep
+in the way of love, but in return she was not very exacting; accommodating
+herself with good humour to all his vagaries, his changes of mood and
+plan, and his romantic friendships. Even the presence of her elder sister
+Eliza, who at an early period established herself as a member of their
+household, did not destroy although it did not add to their peace. It was
+during their stay in Scotland, in 1813, that the first shadow arose
+between them, and from this time Harriet seems to have changed. She became
+cold and indifferent. During the next winter, when they lived at
+Bracknell, she grew frivolous and extravagant, even yielding to habits of
+self-indulgence most repugnant to one so abstemious as Shelley. He, on his
+part, was more and more drawn away from the home which had become
+uncongenial by the fascinating society of his brilliant, speculative
+friend, Mrs. Boinville (the white-haired "Maimuna"), her daughter and
+sister. They were kind and encouraging to him, and their whole circle was
+cheerful, genial, and intellectual. This intimacy tended to widen the
+breach between husband and wife, while supplying none of the moral help
+which might have braced Shelley to meet his difficulty. His letters and
+the stanza addressed to Mrs. Boinville[5] show the profound depression
+under which he laboured in April and May. His pathetic poem to Harriet,
+written in May, expresses only too plainly what he suffered from her
+alienation, and also his keen consciousness of the moral dangers that
+threatened him from the loosening of old ties, if left to himself
+unsupported by sympathy at home. But such feeling as Harriet had was at
+this time quite blunted. She had treated his unsettled depression and
+gloomy abstraction as coldness and sullen discontent, and met them with
+careless unconcern. Always a puppet in the hands of some one stronger than
+herself, she was encouraged by her elder sister, "the ever-present Eliza,"
+the object of Shelley's abhorrence, to meet any want of attention on his
+part by this attitude of indifference; presumably on the assumption that
+men do not care for what they can have cheaply, and that the best way for
+a wife to keep a husband's affection is to show herself independent of it.
+Good-humoured and shallow, easy-going and fond of amusement, she probably
+yielded to these counsels without difficulty. She was much admired by
+other men, and accepted their admiration willingly. From evidence which
+came to light not many years later, it appears Shelley thought he had
+reason to believe she had been misled by one of these admirers, and that
+he became aware of this in June 1814. No word of it was breathed by him at
+the time, and the painful story might never have been divulged but for
+subsequent events which dragged into publicity circumstances which he
+intended should be buried in oblivion. This is not a life of Shelley, and
+the evidence of all this matter,--such evidence, that is, as has escaped
+destruction,--must be looked for elsewhere. In the lawsuit which he
+undertook after Harriet's death to obtain possession of his children by
+her, he was content to state, "I was united to a woman of whom delicacy
+forbids me to say more than that we were disunited by incurable
+dissensions."
+
+That time only confirmed his conviction of 1814 is clearly proved by his
+letter, written six years afterwards, to Southey, who had accused him of
+guilt towards both his first and second wives.
+
+ I take God to witness, if such a Being is now regarding both you and
+ me, and I pledge myself if we meet, as perhaps you expect, before Him
+ after death, to repeat the same in His presence, that you accuse me
+ wrongfully. I am innocent of ill, either done or intended, the
+ consequences you allude to flowed in no respect from me. If you were
+ my friend, I could tell you a history that would make you open your
+ eyes, but I shall certainly never make the public my familiar
+ confidant.
+
+It is quite certain that in June 1814 Shelley, who had for months found
+his wife heartless, became convinced that she had also been faithless. A
+breach of the marriage vow was not, now or at any other time, regarded by
+him in the light of a heinous or unpardonable sin. Like his master Godwin,
+who held that right and wrong in these matters could only be decided by
+the circumstances of each individual case, he considered the vow itself to
+be the mistake, superfluous where it was based on mutual affection,
+tyrannic or false where it was not. Nor did he recognise two different
+laws, for men and for women, in these respects. His subsequent relations
+with Harriet show that, deeply as she had wounded him, he did not consider
+her criminally in fault. Could she indeed be blamed for applying in her
+own way the dangerous principles of which she had heard so much? But she
+had ceased to care for him, and the death of mutual love argued, to his
+mind, the loosening of the tie. He had been faithful to her; her
+faithlessness cut away the ground from under his feet and left him
+defenceless against a new affection.
+
+No wonder that when his friend Peacock went, by his request, to call on
+him in London, he
+
+ showed in his looks, in his gestures, in his speech, the state of a
+ mind, "suffering like a little kingdom, the nature of an
+ insurrection." His eyes were bloodshot, his hair and dress disordered.
+ He caught up a bottle of laudanum and said, "I never part from this!"
+ He added, "I am always repeating to myself your lines from Sophocles--
+
+ Man's happiest lot is not to be,
+ And when we tread life's thorny steep
+ Most blest are they, who, earliest free,
+ Descend to death's eternal sleep."
+
+Harriet had been absent for some time at Bath, but now, growing anxious at
+the rarity of news from her husband, she wrote up to Hookham, his
+publisher, entreating to know what had become of him, and where he was.
+
+Godwin, who called at Hookham's the next day, heard of this letter, and
+began at last to awaken to the consciousness that something he did not
+understand was going on between Shelley and his daughter. It is strange
+that Mrs. Godwin, a shrewd and suspicious woman, should not before now
+have called his attention to the fact. His diary for 8th July records a
+"Talk with Mary." What passed has not transpired. Probably Godwin
+"restricted himself to uttering his censures with seriousness and
+emphasis,"[6] probably Mary said little of any sort.
+
+On the 14th of July Harriet Shelley came up to town, summoned thither by a
+letter from her husband. He informed her of his determination to
+separate, and of his intention to take immediate measures securing her a
+sufficient income for her support. He fully expected that Harriet would
+willingly concur in this arrangement, but she did no such thing; perhaps
+she did not believe he would carry it out. She never at any time took life
+seriously; she looked on the rupture between herself and Shelley as
+trivial and temporary, and had no wish to make it otherwise. Godwin called
+on her two or three times; he was aware of the estrangement, and probably
+hoped by argument and discussion to restore matters to their old footing
+and bring peace and equanimity to his own household. But although Harriet
+was quite aware of Shelley's love for Godwin's daughter, and knew, too,
+that deeds were being prepared to assure her own separate maintenance, she
+said nothing to Godwin, nor did her family give him any hint. The
+impending elopement, with all its consequences to Godwin, were within her
+power to prevent, but she allowed matters to take their course. Godwin,
+evidently very uncomfortable, chronicles a "Talk with P. B. S.," and, on
+22d July, a "Talk with Jane." But circumstances moved faster than he
+expected, and these many talks and discussions and complicated moves and
+counter-moves only made the position intolerable, and precipitated the
+final crisis. Towards the close of that month Shelley's confession was
+wrung from him: he told Mary the whole truth, and how, though legally
+bound, he held himself morally free to offer himself to her if she would
+be his.
+
+To her, passionately devoted to the one man who was and was ever to remain
+the sun and centre of her existence, the thought of a wife indifferent to
+him, hard to him, false to him, was sacrilege; it was torture. She had not
+been brought up to look on marriage as a divine institution; she had
+probably never even heard it discussed but on grounds of expediency.
+Harriet was his legal wife, so he could not marry Mary, but what of that,
+after all? if there was a sacrifice in her power to make for him, was not
+that the greatest joy, the greatest honour that life could have in store
+for her?
+
+That her father would openly condemn her she knew, for she must have known
+that Godwin's practice did not move on the same lofty plane as his
+principles. Was he not at that moment making himself debtor to a man whose
+integrity he doubted? Had he not, in twice marrying, taken care to
+proclaim, both to his friends and the public, that he did so _in spite_ of
+his opinions, which remained unchanged and unretracted, until some
+inconvenient application of them forced from him an expression of
+disapproval?
+
+Her mother too, had she not held that ties which were dead should be
+buried? and though not, like Godwin, condemning marriage as an
+institution, had she not been twice induced to form a connection which in
+one instance never was, in the other was not for some time consecrated by
+law? Who was Mary herself, that she should withstand one whom she felt to
+be the best as well as the cleverest man she had ever known? To talent she
+had been accustomed all her life, but here she saw something different,
+and what of all things calls forth most ardent response from a young and
+pure-minded girl, _a genius for goodness_; an aspiration and devotion such
+as she had dreamed of but never known, with powers which seemed to her
+absolutely inspired. She loved him, and she appreciated him,--as time
+abundantly showed,--rightly. She conceived that she wronged by her action
+no one but herself, and she did not hesitate. She pledged her heart and
+hand to Shelley for life, and she did not disappoint him, nor he her.
+
+To the end of their lives, tried as they were to be by every kind of
+trouble, neither one nor the other ever repented the step they now took,
+nor modified their opinion of the grounds on which they took it. How
+Shelley regarded it in after years we have already seen. Mary, writing
+during her married life, when her judgment had been matured and her
+youthful buoyancy of spirit only too well sobered by stern and bitter
+experience, can find no harder name for it than "an imprudence." Many
+years after, in 1825, alluding to Shelley's separation from Harriet, she
+remarks, "His justification is, to me, obvious." And at a later date
+still, when she had been seventeen years a widow, she wrote in the preface
+to her edition of Shelley's _Poems_--
+
+ I abstain from any remark on the occurrences of his private life,
+ except inasmuch as the passions they engendered inspired his poetry.
+ This is not the time to relate the truth, and I should reject any
+ colouring of the truth. No account of these events has ever been given
+ at all approaching reality in their details, either as regards himself
+ or others; nor shall I further allude to them than to remark that the
+ errors of action committed by a man as noble and generous as Shelley,
+ may, as far as he only is concerned, be fearlessly avowed by those who
+ loved him, in the firm conviction that, were they judged impartially,
+ his character would stand in fairer and brighter light than that of
+ any contemporary.
+
+But they never "made the public their familiar confidant." They screened
+the erring as far as it was in their power to do so, although their
+reticence cost them dear, for it lent a colouring of probability to the
+slanders and misconstruction of all kinds which it was their constant fate
+to endure for others' sake, which pursued them to their lives' end, and
+beyond it.
+
+Life, which is to no one what he expects, had many clouds for them. Mary's
+life reached its zenith too suddenly, and with happiness came care in
+undue proportion. The future of intellectual expansion and creation which
+might have been hers was not to be fully realised, but perfections of
+character she might never have attained developed themselves as her nature
+was mellowed and moulded by time and by suffering.
+
+Shelley's rupture with his first wife marks the end of his boyhood. Up to
+that time, thanks to his poetic temperament, his were the strong and
+simple, but passing impulses and feelings of a child. "A being of large
+discourse" he assuredly was, but not as yet "looking before and after."
+Now he was to acquire the doubtful blessing of that faculty. Like Undine
+when she became endued with a soul, he gained an immeasurable good, while
+he lost a something that never returned.
+
+Early in the morning of 28th July 1814 Mary Godwin secretly left her
+father's house, accompanied by Jane Clairmont, and they started with
+Shelley in a post-chaise for Dover.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+AUGUST 1814-JANUARY 1816
+
+
+From the day of their departure a joint journal was kept by Shelley and
+Mary, which tells their subsequent adventures and vicissitudes with the
+utmost candour and _naivete_. A great deal of the earlier portion is
+written by Shelley, but after a time Mary becomes the principal diarist,
+and the latter part is almost entirely hers. Its account of their first
+wanderings in France and Switzerland was put into narrative form by her
+two or three years later, and published under the title _Journal of a Six
+Weeks' Tour_. But the transparent simplicity of the journal is invaluable,
+and carries with it an absolute conviction which no studied account can
+emulate or improve upon. Considerable portions are, therefore, given in
+their entirety.
+
+That 28th of July was a hotter day than had been known in England for many
+years. Between the sultry heat and exhaustion from the excitement and
+conflicting emotions of the last days, poor Mary was completely overcome.
+
+ "The heat made her faint," wrote Shelley, "it was necessary at every
+ stage that she should repose. I was divided between anxiety for her
+ health and terror lest our pursuers should arrive. I reproached myself
+ with not allowing her sufficient time to rest, with conceiving any
+ evil so great that the slightest portion of her comfort might be
+ sacrificed to avoid it.
+
+ "At Dartford we took four horses, that we might outstrip pursuit. We
+ arrived at Dover before four o'clock."
+
+ "On arriving at Dover," writes Mary,[7] "I was refreshed by a
+ sea-bath. As we very much wished to cross the Channel with all
+ possible speed, we would not wait for the packet of the following day
+ (it being then about four in the afternoon), but hiring a small boat,
+ resolved to make the passage the same evening, the seamen promising us
+ a voyage of two hours.
+
+ "The evening was most beautiful; there was but little wind, and the
+ sails flapped in the flagging breeze; the moon rose, and night came
+ on, and with the night a slow, heavy swell and a fresh breeze, which
+ soon produced a sea so violent as to toss the boat very much. I was
+ dreadfully sea-sick, and, as is usually my custom when thus affected,
+ I slept during the greater part of the night, awaking only from time
+ to time to ask where we were, and to receive the dismal answer each
+ time, 'Not quite halfway.'
+
+ "The wind was violent and contrary; if we could not reach Calais the
+ sailors proposed making for Boulogne. They promised only two hours'
+ sail from shore, yet hour after hour passed, and we were still far
+ distant, when the moon sunk in the red and stormy horizon and the
+ fast-flashing lightning became pale in the breaking day.
+
+ "We were proceeding slowly against the wind, when suddenly a thunder
+ squall struck the sail, and the waves rushed into the boat: even the
+ sailors acknowledged that our situation was perilous; but they
+ succeeded in reefing the sail; the wind was now changed, and we drove
+ before the gale directly to Calais."
+
+ _Journal_ (Shelley).--Mary did not know our danger; she was resting
+ between my knees, that were unable to support her; she did not speak
+ or look, but I felt that she was there. I had time in that moment to
+ reflect, and even to reason upon death; it was rather a thing of
+ discomfort and disappointment than horror to me. We should never be
+ separated, but in death we might not know and feel our union as now. I
+ hope, but my hopes are not unmixed with fear for what may befall this
+ inestimable spirit when we appear to die.
+
+ The morning broke, the lightning died away, the violence of the wind
+ abated. We arrived at Calais, whilst Mary still slept; we drove upon
+ the sands. Suddenly the broad sun rose over France.
+
+Godwin's diary for 28th July runs,
+
+ "_Five in the morning._ M. J. for Dover."
+
+Mrs. Godwin, in fact, started in pursuit of the fugitives as soon as they
+were missed. Neither Shelley nor Mary were the objects of her anxiety, but
+her own daughter. Jane Clairmont, who cared no more for her mother than
+she did for any one else, had guessed Mary's secret or insinuated herself
+into her confidence some time before the final _denouement_ of the
+love-affair. Wild and wayward, ready for anything in the shape of a
+romantic adventure, and longing for freedom from the restraints of home,
+she had sympathised with, and perhaps helped Shelley and Mary. She was in
+no wise anxious to be left to mope alone, nor to be exposed to
+cross-questioning she could ill have met. She claimed to escape with them
+as a return for her good offices, and whatever Mary may have thought or
+wished, Shelley was not one to leave her behind "in slavery." Mrs. Godwin
+arrived at Calais by the very packet the fugitives had refused to wait
+for.
+
+ _Journal_ (Shelley).--In the evening Captain Davidson came and told us
+ that a fat lady had arrived who said I had run away with her daughter;
+ it was Mrs. Godwin. Jane spent the night with her mother.
+
+ _July 30._--Jane informs us that she is unable to withstand the pathos
+ of Mrs. Godwin's appeal. She appealed to the Municipality of Paris, to
+ past slavery and to future freedom. I counselled her to take at least
+ half an hour for consideration. She returned to Mrs. Godwin and
+ informed her that she resolved to continue with us.
+
+ Mrs. Godwin departed without answering a word.
+
+It is difficult to understand how this mother had so little authority over
+her own girl of sixteen. She might rule Godwin, but she evidently could
+not influence, far less rule her daughter. Shelley's influence, as far as
+it was exerted at all, was used in favour of Jane's remaining with them,
+and he paid dearly in after years for the heavy responsibility he now
+assumed.
+
+The travellers proceeded to Paris, where they were obliged to remain
+longer than they intended, finding themselves so absolutely without money,
+nothing having been prearranged in their sudden flight, that Shelley had
+to sell his watch and chain for eight napoleons. Funds were at last
+procured through Tavernier, a French man of business, and they were free
+to put into execution the plan they had resolved upon, namely, to _walk_
+through France, buying an ass to carry their portmanteau and one of them
+by turns.
+
+ _Journal, August 8_ (Mary).--Jane and Shelley go to the ass merchant;
+ we buy an ass. The day spent in preparation for departure.
+
+Their landlady tried to dissuade them from their design.
+
+ She represented to us that a large army had been recently disbanded,
+ that the soldiers and officers wandered idle about the country, and
+ that _les dames seroient certainement enlevees_. But we were proof
+ against her arguments, and, packing up a few necessaries, leaving the
+ rest to go by the diligence, we departed in a _fiacre_ from the door
+ of the hotel, our little ass following.[8]
+
+ _Journal_ (Mary).--We set out to Charenton in the evening, carrying
+ the ass, who was weak and unfit for labour, like the Miller and his
+ Son.
+
+ We dismissed the coach at the barrier. It was dusk, and the ass seemed
+ totally unable to bear one of us, appearing to sink under the
+ portmanteau, though it was small and light. We were, however, merry
+ enough, and thought the leagues short. We arrived at Charenton about
+ ten. Charenton is prettily situated in a valley, through which the
+ Seine flows, winding among banks variegated with trees. On looking at
+ this scene C... (Jane) exclaimed, "Oh! this is beautiful enough; let
+ us live here." This was her exclamation on every new scene, and as
+ each surpassed the one before, she cried, "I am glad we did not live
+ at Charenton, but let us live here."[9]
+
+ _August 9_ (Shelley).--We sell our ass and purchase a mule, in which
+ we much resemble him who never made a bargain but always lost half.
+ The day is most beautiful.
+
+ (Mary).--About nine o'clock we departed; we were clad in black silk. I
+ rode on the mule, which carried also our portmanteau. S. and C. (Jane)
+ followed, bringing a small basket of provisions. At about one we
+ arrived at Gros-Bois, where, under the shade of trees, we ate our
+ bread and fruit, and drank our wine, thinking of Don Quixote and
+ Sancho Panza.
+
+ _Thursday, August 11_ (Mary).--From Provins we came to Nogent. The
+ town was entirely desolated by the Cossacks; the houses were reduced
+ to heaps of white ruins, and the bridge was destroyed. Proceeding on
+ our way we left the great road and arrived at St. Aubin, a beautiful
+ little village situated among trees. This village was also completely
+ destroyed. The inhabitants told us the Cossacks had not left one cow
+ in the village. Notwithstanding the entreaties of the people, who
+ eagerly desired us to stay all night, we continued our route to Trois
+ Maisons, three long leagues farther, on an unfrequented road, and
+ which in many places was hardly perceptible from the surrounding
+ waste....
+
+ As night approached our fears increased that we should not be able to
+ distinguish the road, and Mary expressed these fears in a very
+ complaining tone. We arrived at Trois Maisons at nine o'clock. Jane
+ went up to the first cottage to ask our way, but was only answered by
+ unmeaning laughter. We, however, discovered a kind of an _auberge_,
+ where, having in some degree satisfied our hunger by milk and sour
+ bread, we retired to a wretched apartment to bed. But first let me
+ observe that we discovered that the inhabitants were not in the habit
+ of washing themselves, either when they rose or went to bed.
+
+ _Friday, August 12._--We did not set out from here till eleven
+ o'clock, and travelled a long league under the very eye of a burning
+ sun. Shelley, having sprained his leg, was obliged to ride all day.
+
+ _Saturday, August 13_ (Troyes).--We are disgusted with the excessive
+ dirt of our habitation. Shelley goes to inquire about conveyances. He
+ sells the mule for forty francs and the saddle for sixteen francs. In
+ all our bargains for ass, saddle, and mule we lose more than fifteen
+ napoleons. Money we can but little spare now. Jane and Shelley seek
+ for a conveyance to Neufchatel.
+
+From Troyes Shelley wrote to Harriet, expressing his anxiety for her
+welfare, and urging her in her own interests to come out to Switzerland,
+where he, who would always remain her best and most disinterested friend,
+would procure for her some sweet retreat among the mountains. He tells her
+some details of their adventures in the simplest manner imaginable; never,
+apparently, doubting for a moment but that they would interest her as much
+as they did him. Harriet, it is needless to say, did not come. Had she
+done so, she would not have found Shelley, for, as the sequel shows, he
+was back in London almost as soon as she could have got to Switzerland.
+
+ _Journal, August 14_ (Mary).--At four in the morning we depart from
+ Troyes, and proceed in the new vehicle to Vandeuvres. The village
+ remains still ruined by the war. We rest at Vandeuvres two hours, but
+ walk in a wood belonging to a neighbouring chateau, and sleep under
+ its shade. The moss was so soft; the murmur of the wind in the leaves
+ was sweeter than Aeolian music; we forgot that we were in France or in
+ the world for a time.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _August 17._--The _voiturier_ insists upon our passing the night at
+ the village of Mort. We go out on the rocks, and Shelley and I read
+ part of _Mary_, a fiction. We return at dark, and, unable to enter the
+ beds, we pass a few comfortless hours by the kitchen fireside.
+
+ _Thursday, August 18._--We leave Mort at four. After some hours of
+ tedious travelling, through a most beautiful country, we arrive at
+ Noe. From the summit of one of the hills we see the whole expanse of
+ the valley filled with a white, undulating mist, over which the piny
+ hills pierced like islands. The sun had just risen, and a ray of the
+ red light lay on the waves of this fluctuating vapour. To the west,
+ opposite the sun, it seemed driven by the light against the rock in
+ immense masses of foaming cloud until it becomes lost in the distance,
+ mixing its tints with the fleecy sky. At Noe, whilst our postillion
+ waited, we walked into the forest of pines; it was a scene of
+ enchantment, where every sound and sight contributed to charm.
+
+ Our mossy seat in the deepest recesses of the wood was enclosed from
+ the world by an impenetrable veil. On our return the postillion had
+ departed without us; he left word that he expected to meet us on the
+ road. We proceeded there upon foot to Maison Neuve, an _auberge_ a
+ league distant. At Maison Neuve he had left a message importing that
+ he should proceed to Pontarlier, six leagues distant, and that unless
+ he found us there he should return. We despatched a boy on horseback
+ for him; he promised to wait for us at the next village; we walked two
+ leagues in the expectation of finding him there. The evening was most
+ beautiful; the horned moon hung in the light of sunset that threw a
+ glow of unusual depth of redness above the piny mountains and the dark
+ deep valleys which they included. At Savrine we found, according to
+ our expectation, that M. le Voiturier had pursued his journey with the
+ utmost speed. We engaged a _voiture_ for Pontarlier. Jane very unable
+ to walk. The moon becomes yellow and hangs close to the woody horizon.
+ It is dark before we arrive at Pontarlier. The postillion tells many
+ lies. We sleep, for the first time in France, in a clean bed.
+
+ _Friday, August 19._--We pursue our journey towards Neufchatel. We
+ pass delightful scenes of verdure surpassing imagination; here first
+ we see clear mountain streams. We pass the barrier between France and
+ Switzerland, and, after descending nearly a league, between lofty
+ rocks covered with pines and interspersed with green glades, where the
+ grass is short and soft and beautifully verdant, we arrive at St.
+ Sulpice. The mule is very lame; we determined to engage another horse
+ for the remainder of the way. Our _voiturier_ had determined to leave
+ us, and had taken measures to that effect. The mountains after St.
+ Sulpice become loftier and more beautiful. Two leagues from Neufchatel
+ we see the Alps; hill after hill is seen extending its craggy outline
+ before the other, and far behind all, towering above every feature of
+ the scene, the snowy Alps; they are 100 miles distant; they look like
+ those accumulated clouds of dazzling white that arrange themselves on
+ the horizon in summer. This immensity staggers the imagination, and so
+ far surpasses all conception that it requires an effort of the
+ understanding to believe that they are indeed mountains. We arrive at
+ Neufchatel and sleep.
+
+ _Saturday, August 20._--We consult on our situation. There are no
+ letters at the _bureau de poste_; there cannot be for a week. Shelley
+ goes to the banker's, who promises an answer in two hours; at the
+ conclusion of the time he sends for Shelley, and, to our astonishment
+ and consolation, Shelley returns staggering under the weight of a
+ large canvas bag full of silver. Shelley alone looks grave on the
+ occasion, for he alone clearly apprehends that francs and ecus and
+ louis d'or are like the white and flying cloud of noon, that is gone
+ before one can say "Jack Robinson." Shelley goes to secure a place in
+ the diligence; they are all taken. He meets there with a Swiss who
+ speaks English; this man is imbued with the spirit of true politeness.
+ He endeavours to perform real services, and seems to regard the mere
+ ceremonies of the affair as things of very little value. He makes a
+ bargain with a _voiturier_ to take us to Lucerne for eighteen ecus.
+
+ We arrange to depart at four the next morning. Our Swiss friend
+ appoints to meet us there.
+
+ _Sunday, August 21._--Go from Neufchatel at six; our Swiss accompanies
+ us a little way out of town. There is a mist to-day, so we cannot see
+ the Alps; the drive, however, is interesting, especially in the latter
+ part of the day. Shelley and Jane talk concerning Jane's character. We
+ arrive before seven at Soleure. Shelley and Mary go to the
+ much-praised cathedral, and find it very modern and stupid.
+
+ _Monday, August 22._--Leave Soleure at half-past five; very cold
+ indeed, but we now again see the magnificent mountains of Le Valais.
+ Mary is not well, and all are tired of wheeled machines. Shelley is in
+ a jocosely horrible mood. We dine at Zoffingen, and sleep there two
+ hours. In our drive after dinner we see the mountains of St. Gothard,
+ etc. Change our plan of going over St. Gothard. Arrive tired to death;
+ find at the room of the inn a horrible spinet and a case of stuffed
+ birds. Sup at _table d'hote_.
+
+ _Tuesday, August 23._--We leave at four o'clock and arrive at Lucerne
+ about ten. After breakfast we hire a boat to take us down the lake.
+ Shelley and Mary go out to buy several needful things, and then we
+ embark. It is a most divine day; the farther we advance the more
+ magnificent are the shores of the lake--rock and pine forests covering
+ the feet of the immense mountains. We read part of L'Abbe Barruel's
+ _Histoire du Jacobinisme_. We land at Bessen, go to the wrong inn,
+ where a most comical scene ensues. We sleep at Brunnen. Before we
+ sleep, however, we look out of window.
+
+ _Wednesday, August 24._--We consult on our situation. We cannot
+ procure a house; we are in despair; the filth of the apartment is
+ terrible to Mary; she cannot bear it all the winter. We propose to
+ proceed to Fluelen, but the wind comes from Italy, and will not
+ permit. At last we find a lodging in an ugly house they call the
+ Chateau for one louis a month, which we take; it consists of two
+ rooms. Mary and Shelley walk to the shore of the lake and read the
+ description of the Siege of Jerusalem in Tacitus. We come home, look
+ out of window and go to bed.
+
+ _Thursday, August 25._--We read Abbe Barruel. Shelley and Jane make
+ purchases; we pack up our things and take possession of our house,
+ which we have engaged for six months. Receive a visit from the
+ _Medecin_ and the old Abbe, whom, it must be owned, we do not treat
+ with proper politeness. We arrange our apartment, and write part of
+ Shelley's romance.
+
+ _Friday, August 26._--Write the romance till three o'clock. Propose
+ crossing Mount St. Gothard. Determine at last to return to England;
+ only wait to set off till the washerwoman brings home our linen. The
+ little Frenchman arrives with tubs and plums and scissors and salt.
+ The linen is not dry; we are compelled to wait until to-morrow. We
+ engage a boat to take us to Lucerne at six the following morning.
+
+ _Saturday, August 27._--We depart at seven; it rains violently till
+ just the end of our voyage. We conjecture the astonishment of the good
+ people at Brunnen. We arrive at Lucerne, dine, then write a part of
+ the romance, and read _Shakespeare_. Interrupted by Jane's horrors;
+ pack up. We have engaged a boat for Basle.
+
+ _Sunday, August 28._--Depart at six o'clock. The river is exceedingly
+ beautiful; the waves break on the rocks, and the descents are steep
+ and rapid. It rained the whole day. We stopped at Mettingen to dine,
+ and there surveyed at our ease the horrid and slimy faces of our
+ companions in voyage; our only wish was to absolutely annihilate such
+ uncleanly animals, to which we might have addressed the boatman's
+ speech to Pope: "'Twere easier for God to make entirely new men than
+ attempt to purify such monsters as these." After a voyage in the rain,
+ rendered disagreeable only by the presence of these loathsome
+ "creepers," we arrive, Shelley much exhausted, at Dettingen, our
+ resting-place for the night.
+
+It never seems to have occurred to them before arriving in Switzerland
+that they had no money wherewith to carry out their further plans, that it
+was more difficult to obtain it abroad than at home, and that the
+remainder of their little store would hardly suffice to take them back to
+England. No sooner thought, however, than done. They gave themselves no
+rest after their long and arduous journey, but started straight back via
+the Rhine, arriving in Rotterdam on 8th September with only twenty ecus
+remaining, having been "horribly cheated." "Make arrangements, and talk of
+many things, past, present, and to come."
+
+ _Journal, Friday, September 9._--We have arranged with a captain to
+ take us to England--three guineas a-piece; at three o'clock we sail,
+ and in the evening arrive at Marsluys, where a bad wind obliges us to
+ stay.
+
+ _Saturday, September 10._--We remain at Marsluys, Mary begins _Hate_,
+ and gives Shelley the greater pleasure. Shelley writes part of his
+ romance. Sleep at Marsluys. Wind contrary.
+
+ _Sunday, September 11._--The wind becomes more favourable. We hear
+ that we are to sail. Mary writes more of her _Hate_. We depart, cross
+ the bar; the sea is horribly tempestuous, and Mary is nearly sick, nor
+ is Shelley much better. There is an easterly gale in the night which
+ almost kills us, whilst it carries us nearer our journey's end.
+
+ _Monday, September 12._--It is calm; we remain on deck nearly the
+ whole day. Mary recovers from her sickness. We dispute with one man
+ upon the slave trade.
+
+The wanderers arrived at last at Gravesend, not only penniless, but unable
+even to pay their passage money, or to discharge the hackney coach in
+which they drove about from place to place in search of assistance. At the
+time of Shelley's sudden flight, the deeds by which part of his income was
+transferred to Harriet were still in preparation only, and he had,
+without thinking of the consequences of his act, written from Switzerland
+to his bankers, directing them to honour her calls for money, as far as
+his account allowed of it. She must have availed herself so well of this
+permission that now he found he could only obtain the sum he wanted by
+applying for it to her.
+
+The relations between Shelley and Harriet, must, at first, have seemed to
+Mary as incomprehensible as they still do to readers of the _Journal_.
+Their interviews, necessarily very frequent in the next few months, were,
+on the whole, quite friendly. Shelley was kind and perfectly ingenuous and
+sincere; Harriet was sometimes "civil" and good tempered, sometimes cross
+and provoking. But on neither side was there any pretence of deep pain, of
+wounded pride or bitter constraint.
+
+ _Journal, Tuesday, September 13._--We arrive at Gravesend, and with
+ great difficulty prevail on the captain to trust us. We go by boat to
+ London; take a coach; call on Hookham. T. H. not at home. C. treats us
+ very ill. Call at Voisey's. Henry goes to Harriet. Shelley calls on
+ her, whilst poor Mary and Jane are left in the coach for two whole
+ hours. Our debt is discharged. Shelley gets clothes for himself. Go to
+ Strafford Hotel, dine, and go to bed.
+
+ _Wednesday, September 14._--Talk and read the newspaper. Shelley calls
+ on Harriet, who is certainly a very odd creature; he writes several
+ letters; calls on Hookham, and brings home Wordsworth's _Excursion_,
+ of which we read a part, much disappointed. He is a slave. Shelley
+ engages lodgings, to which we remove in the evening.
+
+Shelley now lost no time in putting himself in communication with Skinner
+Street, and on the first day after they settled in their new lodgings he
+addressed a letter to Godwin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+SEPTEMBER 1814-MAY 1816
+
+
+Whatever may have been Godwin's degree of responsibility for the opinions
+which had enabled Shelley to elope in all good faith with his daughter,
+and which saved her from serious scruple in eloping with Shelley, it would
+be impossible not to sympathise with the father's feelings after the
+event.
+
+People do not resent those misfortunes least which they have helped to
+bring on themselves, and no one ever derived less consolation from his own
+theories than did Godwin from his, as soon as they were unpleasantly put
+into practice. He had done little to win his daughter's confidence, but he
+was keenly wounded by the proof she had given of its absence. His pride,
+as well as his affection, had suffered a serious blow through her
+departure and that of Jane. For a philosopher like him, accustomed to be
+looked up to and consulted on matters of education, such a failure in his
+own family was a public stigma. False and malicious reports got about,
+which had an additional and peculiar sting from their originating partly
+in his well-known impecuniosity. It was currently rumoured that he had
+sold the two girls to Shelley for L800 and L700 respectively. No wonder
+that Godwin, accustomed to look down from a lofty altitude on such minor
+matters as money and indebtedness, felt now that he could not hold up his
+head. He shunned his old friends, and they, for the most part, felt this
+and avoided him. His home was embittered and spoilt. Mrs. Godwin, incensed
+at Jane's conduct, vented her wrath in abuse and invective on Shelley and
+Mary.
+
+No one has thought it worth while to record how poor Fanny was affected by
+the first news of the family calamity. It must have reached her in
+Ireland, and her subsequent return home was dismal indeed. The loss of her
+only sister was a bitter grief to her; and, strong as was her disapproval
+of that sister's conduct, it must have given her a pang to feel that the
+culpable Jane had enjoyed Shelley's and Mary's confidence, while she who
+loved them with a really unselfish love, had been excluded from it. What
+could she now say or do to cheer Godwin? How parry Mrs. Godwin's
+inconsiderate and intemperate complaints and innuendos? No doubt Fanny had
+often stood up for Mary with her stepmother, and now Mary herself had cut
+the ground from under her feet.
+
+Charles Clairmont was at home again; ostensibly on the plea of helping in
+the publishing business, but as a fact idling about, on the lookout for
+some lucky opening. He cared no more than did Jane for the family
+(including his own mother) in Skinner Street: like every Clairmont, he
+was an adventurer, and promptly transferred his sympathies to any point
+which suited himself. To crown all, William, the youngest son, had become
+infected with the spirit of revolt, and had, as Godwin expresses it,
+"eloped for two nights," giving his family no little anxiety.
+
+The first and immediate result of Shelley's letter to Godwin was _a visit
+to his windows_ by Mrs. Godwin and Fanny, who tried in this way to get a
+surreptitious peep at the three truants. Shelley went out to them, but
+they would not speak to him. Late that evening, however, Charles Clairmont
+appeared. He was to be another thorn in the side of the interdicted yet
+indispensable Shelley. He did not mind having a foot in each camp, and had
+no scruples about coming as often and staying as long as he liked, or in
+retailing a large amount of gossip. They discussed William's escapade, and
+the various plans for the immuring of Jane, if she could be caught. This
+did not predispose Jane to listen to the overtures subsequently made to
+her from time to time by her relatives.
+
+Godwin replied to Shelley's letter, but declined all further communication
+with him except through a solicitor. Mrs. Godwin's spirit of rancour was
+such that, several weeks later, she, on one occasion, forbade Fanny to
+come down to dinner because she had received a lock of Mary's hair,
+probably conveyed to her by Charles Clairmont, who, in return, did not
+fail to inform Mary of the whole story. In spite, however, of this
+vehement show of animosity, Shelley was kept through one channel or
+another only too well informed of Godwin's affairs. Indeed, he was never
+suffered to forget them for long at a time. No sign of impatience or
+resentment ever appears in his journal or letters. Not only was Godwin the
+father of his beloved, but he was still, to Shelley, the fountain-head of
+wisdom, philosophy, and inspiration. Mary, too, was devoted to her father,
+and never wavered in her conviction that his inimical attitude proceeded
+from no impulse of his own mind, but that he was upheld in it by the
+influence and interference of Mrs. Godwin.
+
+The journal of Shelley and Mary for the next few months is, in its extreme
+simplicity, a curious record of a most uncomfortable time; a medley of
+lodgings, lawyers, money-lenders, bailiffs, wild schemes, and literary
+pursuits. Penniless themselves, they were yet responsible for hundreds and
+thousands of pounds of other people's debts; there was Harriet running up
+bills at shops and hotels and sending her creditors on to Shelley; Godwin
+perpetually threatened with bankruptcy, refusing to see the man who had
+robbed him of his daughter, yet with literally no other hope of support
+but his help; Jane Clairmont now, as for years to come, entirely dependent
+on them for everything; Shelley's friends quartering themselves on him all
+day and every day, often taking advantage of his love of society and
+intellectual friction, of Mary's youth and inexperience and compliant
+good-nature, to live at his expense, and, in one case at least, to obtain
+from him money which he really had not got, and could only borrow, at
+ruinous interest, on his expectations. He had frequently to be in hiding
+from bailiffs, change his lodgings, sleep at friends' houses or at
+different hotels, getting his letters when he could make a stealthy
+appointment to meet Mary, perhaps at St. Paul's, perhaps at some street
+corner or outside some coffee-house,--anywhere where he might escape
+observation. He was not always certain how far he could rely on those whom
+he had considered his friends, such as the brothers Hookham. Rightly or
+wrongly, he was led to imagine that Harriet, from motives of revenge, was
+bent on ruining Godwin, and that for this purpose she would aid and abet
+in his own arrest, by persuading the Hookhams in such a case to refuse
+bail. The rumour of this conspiracy was conveyed to the Shelleys in a note
+from Fanny, who, for Godwin's sake and theirs, broke through the stern
+embargo laid on all communication.
+
+Yet through all these troubles and bewilderments there went on a perpetual
+under-current of reading and study, thought and discussion. The actual
+existence was there, and all these external accidents of circumstance, the
+realities in ordinary lives were, in these extraordinary lives, treated
+really as accidents, as passing hindrances to serious purpose, and no
+more.
+
+Nothing but Mary's true love for Shelley and perfect happiness with him
+could have tided her over this time. Youth, however, was a wonderful
+helper, added to the unusual intellectual vigour and vivacity which made
+it possible for her, as it would be to few girls of seventeen, to forget
+the daily worries of life in reading and study. Perhaps at no time was the
+even balance of her nature more clearly manifested than now, when, after
+living through a romance that will last in story as long as the name of
+Shelley, her existence revolutionised, her sensibilities preternaturally
+stimulated, having taken, as it were, a life's experiences by cumulation
+in a few months; weak and depressed in health, too, she still had
+sufficient energy and self-control to apply herself to a solid course of
+intellectual training.
+
+Jane's presence added to their unsettlement, although at times it may have
+afforded them some amusement. Wilful, fanciful, with a sense of humour and
+many good impulses, but with that decided dash of charlatanism which
+characterised the Clairmonts, and little true sensibility, she was a
+willing disciple for any wild flights of fancy, and a keen participator in
+all impossible projects and harum-scarum makeshifts. Her presence
+stimulated and enlivened Shelley, her whims and fancies did not seriously
+affect, beyond amusing him, and she was an indefatigable companion for him
+in his walks and wanderings, now that Mary was becoming less and less able
+to go about. To Mary, however, she must often have been an incubus, a
+perpetual _third_, and one who, if sometimes useful, often gave a great
+deal of trouble too. She did not bring to Mary, as she did to Shelley, the
+charm of novelty; nor does the unfolding of one girl's character present
+to another girl whose character is also in process of development such
+attractive problems as it does to a young and speculative man. Mary was
+too noble by nature and too perfectly in accord with Shelley to indulge in
+actual jealousy of Jane's companionship with him; still, she must often
+have had a weary time when those two were scouring the town on their
+multifarious errands; misunderstandings, also, would occur, only to be
+removed by long and patient explanation. Jane (or "Clara," as about this
+time she elected to call herself, in preference to her own less romantic
+name) was hardly more than a child, and in some respects a very childish
+child. Excitable and nervous, she had no idea of putting constraint upon
+herself for others' sake, and gave her neighbours very little rest, as she
+preferred any amount of scenes to humdrum quiet. She and Shelley would sit
+up half the night, amusing themselves with wild speculations, natural and
+supernatural, till she would go off into hysterics or trances, or, when
+she had at last gone to bed, would walk in her sleep, see phantoms, and
+frighten them all with her terrors. In the end she was invariably brought
+to poor Mary, who, delicate in health, had gone early to rest, but had to
+bestir herself to bring Jane to reason, and to "console her with her
+all-powerful benevolence," as Shelley describes it.
+
+Every page of the journal testifies to the extreme youth of the writers;
+likely and unlikely events are chronicled with equal simplicity. Where all
+is new, one thing is not more startling than another; and the commonplaces
+of everyday life may afford more occasion for surprise than the strangest
+anomalies. Specimens only of the diary can be given here, and they are
+best given without comment.
+
+ _Sunday, September 18._--Mary receives her first lesson in Greek. She
+ reads the _Curse of Kehama_, while Shelley walks out with Peacock, who
+ dines. Shelley walks part of the way home with him. Curious account of
+ Harriet. We talk, study a little Greek, and go to bed.
+
+ _Tuesday, September 20._--Shelley writes to Hookham and Tavernier;
+ goes with Hookham to Ballachy's. Mary reads _Political Justice_ all
+ the morning. Study Greek. In the evening Shelley reads _Thalaba_
+ aloud.
+
+ _Monday, September 26._--Shelley goes with Peacock to Ballachy's, and
+ engages lodgings at Pancras. Visit from Mrs. Pringer. Read _Political
+ Justice_ and the _Empire of the Nairs_.
+
+ _Tuesday, September 21._--Read _Political Justice_; finish the
+ _Nairs_; pack up and go to our lodgings in Somers Town.
+
+ _Friday, September 30._--After breakfast walk to Hampstead Heath.
+ Discuss the possibility of converting and liberating two heiresses;
+ arrange a plan on the subject.... Peacock calls; talk with him
+ concerning the heiresses and Marian, arrange his marriage.
+
+ _Sunday, October 2._--Peacock comes after breakfast; walk over
+ Primrose Hill; sail little boats; return a little before four; talk.
+ Read _Political Justice_ in the evening; talk.
+
+ _Monday, October 3._--Read _Political Justice_. Hookham calls. Walk
+ with Peacock to the Lake of Nangis and set off little fire-boats.
+ After dinner talk and let off fireworks. Talk of the west of Ireland
+ plan.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 5._--Peacock at breakfast. Walk to the Lake of
+ Nangis and sail fire-boats. Read _Political Justice_. Shelley reads
+ the _Ancient Mariner_ aloud. Letter from Harriet, very civil. L400 for
+ L2400.
+
+ _Friday, October 7_ (Shelley).--Read _Political Justice_. Peacock
+ calls. Jane, for some reason, refuses to walk. We traverse the fields
+ towards Hampstead. Under an expansive oak lies a dead calf; the cow,
+ lean from grief, is watching it. (Contemplate subject for poem.) The
+ sunset is beautiful. Return at 9. Peacock departs. Mary goes to bed at
+ half-past 8; Shelley sits up with Jane. Talk of oppression and reform,
+ of cutting squares of skin from the soldiers' backs. Jane states her
+ conception of the subterranean community of women. Talk of Hogg,
+ Harriet, Miss Hitchener, etc. At 1 o'clock Shelley observes that it is
+ the witching time of night; he inquires soon after if it is not
+ horrible to feel the silence of night tingling in our ears; in half an
+ hour the question is repeated in a different form; at 2 they retire
+ awestruck and hardly daring to breathe. Shelley says to Jane,
+ "Good-night;" his hand is leaning on the table; he is conscious of an
+ expression in his countenance which he cannot repress. Jane hesitates.
+ "Good-night" again. She still hesitates.
+
+ "Did you ever read the tragedy of _Orra_?" said Shelley.
+
+ "Yes. How horribly you look!--take your eyes off."
+
+ "Good-night" again, and Jane runs to her room. Shelley, unable to
+ sleep, kissed Mary, and prepared to sit beside her and read till
+ morning, when rapid footsteps descended the stairs. Jane was there;
+ her countenance was distorted most unnaturally by horrible dismay--it
+ beamed with a whiteness that seemed almost like light; her lips and
+ cheeks were of one deadly hue; the skin of her face and forehead was
+ drawn into innumerable wrinkles--the lineaments of terror that could
+ not be contained; her hair came prominent and erect; her eyes were
+ wide and staring, drawn almost from the sockets by the convulsion of
+ the muscles; the eyelids were forced in, and the eyeballs, without any
+ relief, seemed as if they had been newly inserted, in ghastly sport,
+ in the sockets of a lifeless head. This frightful spectacle endured
+ but for a few moments--it was displaced by terror and confusion,
+ violent indeed, and full of dismay, but human. She asked me if I had
+ touched her pillow (her tone was that of dreadful alarm). I said, "No,
+ no! if you will come into the room I will tell you." I informed her
+ of Mary's pregnancy; this seemed to check her violence. She told me
+ that a pillow placed upon her bed had been removed, in the moment that
+ she turned her eyes away to a chair at some distance, and evidently by
+ no human power. She was positive as to the facts of her
+ self-possession and calmness. Her manner convinced me that she was not
+ deceived. We continued to sit by the fire, at intervals engaging in
+ awful conversation relative to the nature of these mysteries. I read
+ part of _Alexy_; I repeated one of my own poems. Our conversation,
+ though intentionally directed to other topics, irresistibly recurred
+ to these. Our candles burned low; we feared they would not last until
+ daylight. Just as the dawn was struggling with moonlight, Jane
+ remarked in me that unutterable expression which had affected her with
+ so much horror before; she described it as expressing a mixture of
+ deep sadness and conscious power over her. I covered my face with my
+ hands, and spoke to her in the most studied gentleness. It was
+ ineffectual; her horror and agony increased even to the most dreadful
+ convulsions. She shrieked and writhed on the floor. I ran to Mary; I
+ communicated in few words the state of Jane. I brought her to Mary.
+ The convulsions gradually ceased, and she slept. At daybreak we
+ examined her apartment and found her pillow on the chair.
+
+ _Saturday, October 8_ (Mary).--Read _Political Justice_. We walked
+ out; when we return Shelley talks with Jane, and I read _Wrongs of
+ Women_. In the evening we talk and read.
+
+ _Tuesday, October 11._--Read _Political Justice_. Shelley goes to the
+ Westminster Insurance Office. Study Greek. Peacock dines. Receive a
+ refusal about the money....
+
+ Have a good-humoured letter from Harriet, and a cold and even
+ sarcastic one from Mrs. Boinville. Shelley reads the _History of the
+ Illuminati_, out of Barruel, to us.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 12._--Read _Political Justice_. A letter from
+ Marshall; Jane goes there. When she comes home we go to Cheapside;
+ returning, an occurrence. Deliberation until 7; burn the letter; sleep
+ early.
+
+ _Thursday, October 13._--Communicate the burning of the letter. Much
+ dispute and discussion concerning its probable contents. Alarm.
+ Determine to quit London; send for L5 from Hookham. Change our
+ resolution. Go to the play. The extreme depravity and disgusting
+ nature of the scene; the inefficacy of acting to encourage or maintain
+ the delusion. The loathsome sight of men personating characters which
+ do not and cannot belong to them. Shelley displeased with what he saw
+ of Kean. Return. Alarm. We sleep at the Stratford Hotel.
+
+ _Friday, October 14_ (Shelley).--Jane's insensibility and incapacity
+ for the slightest degree of friendship. The feelings occasioned by
+ this discovery prevent me from maintaining any measure in security.
+ This highly incorrect; subversion of the first principles of true
+ philosophy; characters, particularly those which are unformed, may
+ change. Beware of weakly giving way to trivial sympathies. Content
+ yourself with one great affection--with a single mighty hope; let the
+ rest of mankind be the subjects of your benevolence, your justice,
+ and, as human beings, of your sensibility; but, as you value many
+ hours of peace, never suffer more than one even to approach the
+ hallowed circle. Nothing should shake the truly great spirit which is
+ not sufficiently mighty to destroy it.
+
+ Peacock calls. I take some interest in this man, but no possible
+ conduct of his would disturb my tranquillity.... Converse with Jane;
+ her mind unsettled; her character unformed; occasion of hope from some
+ instances of softness and feeling; she is not entirely insensible to
+ concessions, new proofs that the most exalted philosophy, the truest
+ virtue, consists in an habitual contempt of self; a subduing of all
+ angry feelings; a sacrifice of pride and selfishness. When you attempt
+ benefit to either an individual or a community, abstain from imputing
+ it as an error that they despise or overlook your virtue. These are
+ incidental reflections which arise only indirectly from the
+ circumstances recorded.
+
+ Walk with Peacock to the pond; talk of Marian and Greek metre. Peacock
+ dines. In the evening read Cicero and the _Paradoxa_. Night comes;
+ Jane walks in her sleep, and groans horribly; listen for two hours; at
+ length bring her to Mary. Begin _Julius_, and finish the little volume
+ of Cicero.
+
+ The next morning the chimney board in Jane's room is found to have
+ walked leisurely into the middle of the room, accompanied by the
+ pillow, who, being very sleepy, tried to get into bed again, but sat
+ down on his back.
+
+ _Saturday, October 15_ (Mary).--After breakfast read _Political
+ Justice_. Shelley goes with Peacock to Ballachy's. A disappointment;
+ it is put off till Monday. They then go to Homerton. Finish _St.
+ Leon_. Jane writes to Marshall. A letter from my Father. Talking; Jane
+ and I walk out. Shelley and Peacock return at 6. Shelley advises Jane
+ not to go. Jane's letter to my Father. A refusal. Talk about going
+ away, and, as usual, settle nothing.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 19._--Finish _Political Justice_, read _Caleb
+ Williams_. Shelley goes to the city, and meets with a total failure.
+ Send to Hookham. Shelley reads a part of _Comus_ aloud.
+
+ _Thursday, October 20._--Shelley goes to the city. Finish _Caleb
+ Williams_; read to Jane. Peacock calls; he has called on my father,
+ who will not speak about Shelley to any one but an attorney. Oh!
+ philosophy!...
+
+ _Saturday, October 22._--Finish the _Life of Alfieri_. Go to the tomb
+ (Mary Wollstonecraft's), and read the _Essay on Sepulchres_ there.
+ Shelley is out all the morning at the lawyer's, but nothing is
+ done....
+
+ In the evening a letter from Fanny, warning us of the Hookhams. Jane
+ and Shelley go after her; they find her, but Fanny runs away.
+
+ _Monday, October 24._--Read aloud to Jane. At 11 go out to meet
+ Shelley. Walk up and down Fleet Street; call at Peacock's; return to
+ Fleet Street; call again at Peacock's; return to Pancras; remain an
+ hour or two. People call; I suppose bailiffs. Return to Peacock's.
+ Call at the coffee-house; see Shelley; he has been to Ballachy's. Good
+ hopes; to be decided Thursday morning. Return to Peacock's; dine
+ there; get money. Return home in a coach; go to bed soon, tired to
+ death.
+
+ _Thursday, October 25._--Write to Shelley. Jane goes to Fanny.... Call
+ at Peacock's; go to the hotel; Shelley not there. Go back to
+ Peacock's. Peacock goes to Shelley. Meet Shelley in Holborn. Walk up
+ and down Bartlett's Buildings.... Come with him to Peacock's; talk
+ with him till 10; return to Pancras without him. Jane in the dumps all
+ evening about going away.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 26._--A visit from Shelley's old friends;[10] they
+ go away much disappointed and very angry. He has written to T. Hookham
+ to ask him to be bail. Return to Pancras about 4. Read all the
+ evening.
+
+ _Thursday, October 27._--Write to Fanny all morning. We had received
+ letters from Skinner Street in the morning. Fanny is very doleful, and
+ C. C. contradicts in one line what he had said in the line before.
+ After two go to St. Paul's; meet Shelley; go with him in a coach to
+ Hookham's; H. is out; return; leave him and proceed to Pancras. He has
+ not received a definitive answer from Ballachy; meet a money-lender,
+ of whom I have some hopes. Read aloud to Jane in the evening. Jane
+ goes to sleep. Write to Shelley. A letter comes enclosing a letter
+ from Hookham consenting to justify bail. Harriet has been to work
+ there against my Father.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 1._--Learn Greek all morning. Shelley goes to the
+ 'Change. Jane calls.[11] People want their money; won't send up
+ dinner, and we are all very hungry. Jane goes to Hookham. Shelley and
+ I talk about her character. Jane returns without money. Writes to
+ Fanny about coming to see her; she can't come. Writes to Charles. Goes
+ to Peacock to send him to us with some eatables; he is out. Charles
+ promises to see her. She returns to Pancras; he goes there, and tells
+ the dismal state of the Skinner Street affairs. Shelley goes to
+ Peacock's; comes home with cakes. Wait till T. Hookham sends money to
+ pay the bill. Shelley returns to Pancras. Have tea, and go to bed.
+ Shelley goes to Peacock's to sleep.
+
+These are two specimens of the notes constantly passing between them.
+
+ MARY TO SHELLEY.
+
+ _25th October._
+
+ For what a minute did I see you yesterday. Is this the way, my
+ beloved, we are to live till the 6th? In the morning when I wake I
+ turn to look on you. Dearest Shelley, you are solitary and
+ uncomfortable. Why cannot I be with you, to cheer you and press you to
+ my heart? Ah! my love, you have no friends; why, then, should you be
+ torn from the only one who has affection for you? But I shall see you
+ to-night, and this is the hope I shall live on through the day. Be
+ happy, dear Shelley, and think of me! I know how tenderly you love me,
+ and how you repine at your absence from me. When shall we be free of
+ treachery? I send you the letter I told you of from Harriet, and a
+ letter we received yesterday from Fanny; the history of this interview
+ I will tell you when I come. I was so dreadfully tired yesterday that
+ I was obliged to take a coach home. Forgive this extravagance, but I
+ am so very weak at present, and I had been so agitated through the
+ day, that I was not able to stand; a morning's rest, however, will set
+ me quite right again; I shall be well when I meet you this evening.
+ Will you be at the door of the coffee-house at 5 o'clock, as it is
+ disagreeable to go into those places. I shall be there exactly at that
+ time, and we can go into St. Paul's, where we can sit down.
+
+ I send you _Diogenes_, as you have no books. Hookham was so
+ ill-tempered as not to send the book I asked for. So this is the end
+ of my letter, dearest love.
+
+ What do they mean?[12] I detest Mrs. Godwin; she plagues my father
+ out of his life; and these----Well, no matter. Why will Godwin not
+ follow the obvious bent of his affections, and be reconciled to us?
+ No; his prejudices, the world, and _she_--all these forbid it. What am
+ I to do? trust to time, of course, for what else can I do. Good-night,
+ my love; to-morrow I will seal this blessing on your lips. Press me,
+ your own Mary, to your heart. Perhaps she will one day have a father;
+ till then be everything to me, love; and, indeed, I will be a good
+ girl, and never vex you. I will learn Greek and----but when shall we
+ meet when I may tell you all this, and you will so sweetly reward me?
+ But good-night; I am wofully tired, and so sleepy. One kiss--well,
+ that is enough--to-morrow!
+
+
+ SHELLEY TO MARY.
+
+ _28th October._
+
+ MY BELOVED MARY--I know not whether these transient meetings produce
+ not as much pain as pleasure. What have I said? I do not mean it. I
+ will not forget the sweet moments when I saw your eyes--the divine
+ rapture of the few and fleeting kisses. Yet, indeed, this must cease;
+ indeed, we must not part thus wretchedly to meet amid the comfortless
+ tumult of business; to part I know not how.
+
+ Well, dearest love, to-morrow--to-morrow night. That eternal clock!
+ Oh! that I could "fright the steeds of lazy-paced Time." I do not
+ think that I am less impatient now than formerly to repossess--to
+ entirely engross--my own treasured love. It seems so unworthy a cause
+ for the slightest separation. I could reconcile it to my own feelings
+ to go to prison if they would cease to persecute us with
+ interruptions. Would it not be better, my heavenly love, to creep into
+ the loathliest cave so that we might be together.
+
+ Mary, love, we must be united; I will not part from you again after
+ Saturday night. We must devise some scheme. I must return. Your
+ thoughts alone can waken mine to energy; my mind without yours is dead
+ and cold as the dark midnight river when the moon is down. It seems as
+ if you alone could shield me from impurity and vice. If I were absent
+ from you long, I should shudder with horror at myself; my
+ understanding becomes undisciplined without you. I believe I must
+ become in Mary's hands what Harriet was in mine. Yet how differently
+ disposed--how devoted and affectionate--how, beyond measure,
+ reverencing and adoring--the intelligence that governs me! I repent me
+ of this simile; it is unjust; it is false. Nor do I mean that I
+ consider you much my superior, evidently as you surpass me in
+ originality and simplicity of mind. How divinely sweet a task it is to
+ imitate each other's excellences, and each moment to become wiser in
+ this surpassing love, so that, constituting but one being, all real
+ knowledge may be comprised in the maxim [Greek: gnothi seauton]--(know
+ thyself)--with infinitely more justice than in its narrow and common
+ application. I enclose you Hookham's note; what do you think of it? My
+ head aches; I am not well; I am tired with this comfortless
+ estrangement from all that is dear to me. My own dearest love,
+ good-night. I meet you in Staples Inn at twelve to-morrow--half an
+ hour before twelve. I have written to Hooper and Sir J. Shelley.
+
+ _Journal, Thursday, November 3_ (Mary).--Work; write to Shelley; read
+ Greek grammar. Receive a letter from Mr. Booth; so all my hopes are
+ over there. Ah! Isabel; I did not think you would act thus. Read and
+ work in the evening. Receive a letter from Shelley. Write to him.
+
+ [Letter not transcribed here.]
+
+ _Sunday, November 6._--Talk to Shelley. He writes a great heap of
+ letters. Read part of _St. Leon_. Talk with him all evening; this is a
+ day devoted to Love in idleness. Go to sleep early in the evening.
+ Shelley goes away a little before 10.
+
+ _Wednesday, November 9._--Pack up all morning; leave Pancras about 3;
+ call at Peacock's for Shelley; Charles Clairmont has been for L8. Go
+ to Nelson Square. Jane gloomy; she is very sullen with Shelley. Well,
+ never mind, my love--we are happy.
+
+ _Thursday, November 10._--Jane is not well, and does not speak the
+ whole day. We send to Peacock's, but no good news arrives. Lambert has
+ called there, and says he will write. Read a little of _Petronius_, a
+ most detestable book. Shelley is out all the morning. In the evening
+ read Louvet's _Memoirs_--go to bed early. Shelley and Jane sit up till
+ 12, talking; Shelley talks her into a good humour.
+
+ _Sunday, November 13._--Write in the morning; very unwell all day.
+ Fanny sends a letter to Jane to come to Blackfriars Road; Jane cannot
+ go. Fanny comes here; she will not see me; hear everything she says,
+ however. They think my letter cold and _indelicate_! God bless them.
+ Papa tells Fanny if she sees me he will never speak to her again; a
+ blessed degree of liberty this! He has had a very impertinent letter
+ from Christy Baxter. The reason she comes is to ask Jane to Skinner
+ Street to see Mrs. Godwin, who they say is dying. Jane has no clothes.
+ Fanny goes back to Skinner Street to get some. She returns. Jane goes
+ with her. Shelley returns (he had been to Hookham's); he disapproves.
+ Write and read. In the evening talk with my love about a great many
+ things. We receive a letter from Jane saying she is very happy, and
+ she does not know when she will return. Turner has called at Skinner
+ Street; he says it is too far to Nelson Square. I am unwell in the
+ evening.
+
+ _Journal, November 14_ (Shelley).--Mary is unwell. Receive a note from
+ Hogg; cloth from Clara. I wish this girl had a resolute mind. Without
+ firmness understanding is impotent, and the truest principles
+ unintelligible. Charles calls to confer concerning Lambert; walk with
+ him. Go to 'Change, to Peacock's, to Lambert's; receive L30. In the
+ evening Hogg calls; perhaps he still may be my friend, in spite of the
+ radical differences of sympathy between us; he was pleased with Mary;
+ this was the test by which I had previously determined to judge his
+ character. We converse on many interesting subjects, and Mary's
+ illness disappears for a time.
+
+ _Thursday, November 15_ (Shelley).--Disgusting dreams have occupied
+ the night.
+
+ (Mary).--Very unwell. Jane calls; converse with her. She goes to
+ Skinner Street; tells Papa that she will not return; comes back to
+ Nelson Square with Shelley; calls at Peacock's. Shelley read aloud to
+ us in the evening out of Adolphus's _Lives_.
+
+ _Wednesday, November 16._--Very ill all day. Shelley and Jane out all
+ day shopping about the town. Shelley reads _Edgar Huntley_ to us.
+ Shelley and Jane go to Hookham's. Hogg comes in the meantime; he stops
+ all the evening. Shelley writes his critique till half-past 3.
+
+ _Saturday, November 19._--Very ill. Shelley and Jane go out to call at
+ Mrs. Knapp's; she receives Jane kindly; promises to come and see me. I
+ go to bed early. Charles Clairmont calls in the evening, but I do not
+ see him.
+
+ _Sunday, November 20._--Still very ill; get up very late. In the
+ evening Shelley reads aloud out of the _Female Revolutionary
+ Plutarch_. Hogg comes in the evening.... Get into an argument about
+ virtue, in which Hogg makes a sad bungle; quite muddled on the point,
+ I perceive.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 29._--Work all day. Heigh ho! Clara and Shelley go
+ before breakfast to Parker's. After breakfast, Shelley is as badly off
+ as I am with my work, for he is out all day with those lawyers. In the
+ evening Shelley and Jane go in search of Charles Clairmont; they
+ cannot find him. Read _Philip Stanley_--very stupid.
+
+ _Tuesday, December 6._--Very unwell. Shelley and Clara walk out, as
+ usual, to heaps of places. Read _Agathon_, which I do not like so well
+ as _Peregrine_.... A letter from Hookham, to say that Harriet has been
+ brought to bed of a son and heir. Shelley writes a number of circular
+ letters of this event, which ought to be ushered in with ringing of
+ bells, etc., for it is the son _of his wife_. Hogg comes in the
+ evening; I like him better, though he vexed me by his attachment to
+ sporting. A letter from Harriet confirming the news, in a letter from
+ a _deserted wife_!! and telling us he has been born a week.
+
+ _Wednesday, December 7._--Clara and Shelley go out together; Shelley
+ calls on the lawyers and on Harriet, who treats him with insulting
+ selfishness; they return home wet and very tired. Read _Agathon_. I
+ like it less to-day; he discovers many opinions which I think
+ detestable. Work. In the evening Charles Clairmont comes. Hear that
+ Place is trying to raise L1200 to pay Hume on Shelley's _post obit_;
+ affairs very bad in Skinner Street; afraid of a call for the rent; all
+ very bad. Shelley walks home with Charles Clairmont; goes to Hookham's
+ about the L100 to lend my Father. Hookham out. He returns; very tired.
+ Work in the evening.
+
+ _Thursday, December 8._--Shelley and Clara go to Hookham's; get the
+ L90 for my father; they are out, as usual, all morning. Finish
+ _Agathon_. I do not like it; Wieland displays some most detestable
+ opinions; he is one of those men who alter all their opinions when
+ they are about forty, and then think it will be the same with every
+ one, and that they are themselves the only proper monitors of youth.
+ Work. When Shelley and Clara return, Shelley goes to Lambert's; out.
+ Work. In the evening Hogg comes; talk about a great number of things;
+ he is more sincere this evening than I have seen him before. Odd
+ dreams.
+
+ _Friday, December 16._--Still ill; heigh ho! Finish _Jane Talbot_.
+ Hume calls at half-past 12; he tells of the great distress in Skinner
+ Street; I do not see him. Hookham calls; hasty little man; he does not
+ stay long. In the evening Hogg comes. Shelley and Clara are at first
+ out; they have been to look for Charles Clairmont; they find him, and
+ walk with him some time up and down Ely Place. Shelley goes to sleep
+ early; very tired. We talk about flowers and trees in the evening; a
+ country conversation.
+
+ _Saturday, December 17._--Very ill. Shelley and Clara go to Pike's;
+ when they return, Shelley goes to walk round the Square. Talk with
+ Shelley in the evening; he sleeps, and I lie down on the bed. Jane
+ goes to Pike's at 9. Charles Clairmont comes, and talks about several
+ things. Mrs. Godwin did not allow Fanny to come down to dinner on her
+ receiving a lock of my hair. Fanny of course behaves slavishly on the
+ occasion. He goes at half-past 11.
+
+ _Sunday, December 18._--Better, but far from well. Pass a very happy
+ morning with Shelley. Charles Clairmont comes at dinner-time, the
+ Skinner Street folk having gone to dine at the Kennie's. Jane and he
+ take a long walk together. Shelley and I are left alone. Hogg comes
+ after Clara and her brother return. C. C. flies from the field on his
+ approach. Conversation as usual. Get worse towards night.
+
+ _Monday, December 19_ (Shelley).--Mary rather better this morning.
+ Jane goes to Hume's about Godwin's bills; learn that Lambert is
+ inclined, but hesitates. Hear of a woman--supposed to be the daughter
+ of the Duke of Montrose--who has the head of a hog. _Suetonius_ is
+ finished, and Shelley begins the _Historia Augustana_. Charles
+ Clairmont comes in the evening; a discussion concerning female
+ character. Clara imagines that I treat her unkindly; Mary consoles her
+ with her all-powerful benevolence. I rise (having already gone to bed)
+ and speak with Clara; she was very unhappy; I leave her tranquil.
+
+ _Tuesday, December 20_ (Mary).--Shelley goes to Pike's; take a short
+ walk with him first. Unwell. A letter from Harriet, who threatens
+ Shelley with her lawyer. In the evening read _Emilia Galotti_. Hogg
+ comes. Converse of various things. He goes at twelve.
+
+ _Wednesday, December 21_ (Shelley).--Mary is better. Shelley goes to
+ Pike's, to the Insurance Offices, and the lawyer's; an agreement
+ entered into for L3000 for L1000. A letter from Wales, offering _post
+ obit_. Shelley goes to Hume's; Mary reads Miss Baillie's plays in the
+ evening. Shelley goes to bed at 8; Mary at 11.
+
+ _Saturday, December 24_ (Mary).--Read _View of French Revolution_.
+ Walk out with Shelley, and spend a dreary morning waiting for him at
+ Mr. Peacock's. In the evening Hogg comes. I like him better each time;
+ it is a pity that he is a lawyer; he wasted so much time on that trash
+ that might be spent on better things.
+
+ _Sunday, December 25._--Christmas Day. Have a very bad side-ache in
+ the morning, so I rise late. Charles Clairmont comes and dines with
+ us. In the afternoon read Miss Baillie's plays. Hogg spends the
+ evening with us; conversation, as usual.
+
+ _Monday, December 26_ (Shelley).--The sweet Maie asleep; leave a note
+ with her. Walk with Clara to Pike's, etc. Go to Hampstead and look for
+ a house; we return in a return-chaise; find that Laurence has arrived,
+ and consult for Mary; she has read Miss Baillie's plays all day. Mary
+ better this evening. Shelley very much fatigued; sleeps all the
+ evening. Read _Candide_.
+
+ _Tuesday, December 27_ (Mary).--Not very well; Shelley very unwell.
+ Read _De Montfort_, and talk with Shelley in the evening. Read _View
+ of the French Revolution_. Hogg comes in the evening; talk of heaps of
+ things. Shelley's odd dream.
+
+ _Wednesday, December 28._--Shelley and Clara out all the morning. Read
+ _French Revolution_ in the evening. Shelley and I go to Gray's Inn to
+ get Hogg; he is not there; go to Arundel Street; can't find him. Go to
+ Garnerin's. Lecture on electricity; the gases, and the phantasmagoria;
+ return at half-past 9. Shelley goes to sleep. Read _View of French
+ Revolution_ till 12; go to bed.
+
+ _Friday, December 30._--Shelley and Jane go out as usual. Read Bryan
+ Edwards's _Account of West Indies_. They do not return till past
+ seven, having been locked into Kensington Gardens; both very tired.
+ Hogg spends the evening with us.
+
+ _Saturday, December 31_ (Shelley).--The poor Maie was very weak and
+ tired all day. Shelley goes to Pike's and Humes' and Mrs.
+ Peacock's;[13] return very tired, and sleeps all the evening. The Maie
+ goes to sleep early. New Year's Eve.
+
+In January 1815 Shelley's grandfather, Sir Bysshe, died, and his father,
+Mr. Timothy Shelley, succeeded to the baronetcy and estate. By an
+arrangement with his father, according to which he relinquished all claim
+on a certain portion of his patrimony, Shelley now became possessed of
+L1000 a year (L200 a year of which he at once set apart for Harriet), as
+well as a considerable sum of ready money for the relief of his present
+necessities. L200 of this he also sent to Harriet to pay her debts. The
+next few entries in the journal were, however, written before this event.
+
+ _Thursday, January 5_ (Mary).--Go to breakfast at Hogg's; Shelley
+ leaves us there and goes to Hume's. When he returns we go to Newman
+ Street; see the statue of Theoclea; it is a divinity that raises your
+ mind to all virtue and excellence; I never beheld anything half so
+ wonderfully beautiful. Return home very ill. Expect Hogg in the
+ evening, but he does not come. Too ill to read.
+
+ _Friday, January 6._--Walk to Mrs. Peacock's with Clara. Walk with
+ Hogg to Theoclea; she is ten thousand times more beautiful to-day than
+ ever; tear ourselves away. Return to Nelson Square; no one at home.
+ Hogg stays a short time with me. Shelley had stayed at home till 2 to
+ see Ryan;[14] he does not come. Goes out about business. In the
+ evening Shelley and Clara go to Garnerin's.... Very unwell. Hogg
+ comes. Shelley and Clara return at ten. Conversation as usual. Shelley
+ reads "Ode to France" aloud, and repeats the poem to "Tranquillity."
+ Talk with Shelley afterwards for some time; at length go to sleep.
+ Shelley goes out and sits in the other room till 5; I then call him.
+ Talk. Shelley goes to sleep; at 8 Shelley rises and goes out.
+
+The next entry is made during Shelley's short absence in Sussex, after his
+grandfather's death. Clara had accompanied him on his journey.
+
+ _(Date between January 7 and January 13)._--Letter from Peacock to say
+ that he is in prison.... His debt is L40.... Write to Peacock and
+ send him L2. Hogg dines with me and spends the evening; letter from
+ Hookham.
+
+ _Friday, January 13._--A letter from Clara. While I am at breakfast
+ Shelley and Clara arrive. The will has been opened, and Shelley is
+ referred to Whitton. His father would not allow him to enter Field
+ Place; he sits before the door and reads _Comus_. Dr. Blocksome comes
+ out; tells him that his father is very angry with him. Sees my name in
+ Milton.... Hogg dines, and spends the evening with us.
+
+ _Sunday, January 24._--In the evening Shelley, Clara, and Hogg sleep.
+ Read Gibbon.... Hogg goes at half-past 11. Shelley and Clara explain
+ as usual.
+
+ _Monday, January 30._--Work all day. Shelley reads Livy. In the
+ evening Shelley reads _Paradise Regained_ aloud, and then goes to
+ sleep. Hogg comes at 9. Talk and work. Hogg sleeps here.
+
+ _Wednesday, February 1._--Read Gibbon (end of vol. i.) Shelley reads
+ Livy in the evening. Work. Shelley and Clara sleep. Hogg comes and
+ sleeps here. Mrs. Hill calls.
+
+ _Sunday, February 5._--Read Gibbon. Take a long walk in Kensington
+ Gardens and the Park; meet Clairmont as we return, and hear that my
+ father wishes to see a copy of the codicil, because he thinks Shelley
+ is acting rashly. All this is very odd and inconsistent, but I never
+ quarrel with inconsistency; folks must change their minds. After
+ dinner talk. Shelley finishes Gibbon's _Memoirs_ aloud. Clara,
+ Shelley, and Hogg sleep. Read Gibbon. Shelley writes to Longdill and
+ Clairmont. Hogg ill, but we cannot persuade him to stay; he goes at
+ half-past 11.
+
+ _Wednesday, February 8._--Ash Wednesday. So Hogg stays all day. We are
+ to move to-day, so Shelley and Clara go out to look for lodgings. Hogg
+ and I pack, and then talk. Shelley and Clara do not return till 3;
+ they have not succeeded; go out again; they get apartments at Hans
+ Place; move. In the evening talk and read Gibbon. Letters. Pike calls;
+ insolent plague. Hogg goes at half-past 11.
+
+ _Tuesday, February 14_ (Shelley).--Shelley goes to Longdill's and
+ Hayward's, and returns feverish and fatigued. Maie finishes the third
+ volume of Gibbon. All unwell in the evening. Hogg comes and puts us to
+ bed. Hogg goes at half-past 11.
+
+In this month, probably on the 22d (but that page of the diary is torn),
+when they had been hardly more than a week in their last new lodgings, a
+little girl was born. Although her confinement was premature, Mary had a
+favourable time; the infant, a scarcely seven months' child, was not
+expected to live; it survived, however, for some days. It might possibly
+have been saved, had it had an ordinary chance of life given it, but, on
+the ninth day of its existence, the whole family moved yet again to new
+lodgings. How the young mother ever recovered from the fatigues, risks,
+and worries she had to go through at this critical time may well be
+wondered. It is more than probable that the unreasonable demands made on
+her strength and courage during this month and those which preceded it
+laid the foundation of much weak health later on. The child was
+sacrificed. Four days after the move it was found in the morning dead by
+its mother's side. The poor little thing was a mere passing episode in
+Shelley's troubled, hurried existence. Only to Mary were its birth and
+death a deep and permanent experience. Apart from her love for Shelley,
+her affections had been chiefly of the intellectual kind, and even in her
+relation with him mental affinity had played a great part. A new chord in
+her temperament was set vibrating by the advent of this baby, the maternal
+one, quite absent from her disposition before, and which was to assert
+itself at last as the keynote of her nature.
+
+Hogg, who was almost constantly with them at this time, seems to have been
+kind, helpful, and sympathetic.
+
+The baby's birth was too much for Fanny Godwin's endurance and fortitude.
+Up to this time she had, in accordance with what she conceived to be her
+duty, held aloof from the Shelleys, but, the barrier once broken down, she
+came repeatedly to see them. Mrs. Godwin showed that she had a soft spot
+in her heart by sending Mary, through Fanny, a present of linen, no doubt
+most welcome at this unprepared-for crisis. Beyond this she was
+unrelenting. Her pride, however, was not so strong as her feminine
+curiosity, which she indulged still by parading before the windows and
+trying to get peeps at the people behind them. She was annoyed with Fanny,
+who now, however, held her own course, feeling that her duty could not be
+all on one side while her family consented to be dependent, and that every
+moment of her father's peace and safety were due entirely to this Shelley
+whom he would not see.
+
+ _Journal, February 22_ (Shelley) (after the baby's birth).--Maie
+ perfectly well and at ease. The child is not quite seven months; the
+ child not expected to live. Shelley sits up with Maie, much exhausted
+ and agitated. Hogg sleeps here.
+
+ _Thursday, February 23._--Mary quite well; the child unexpectedly
+ alive, but still not expected to live. Hogg returns in the evening at
+ half-past 7. Shelley writes to Fanny requesting her to come and see
+ Maie. Fanny comes and remains the whole night, the Godwins being
+ absent from home. Charles comes at 11 with linen from Mrs. Godwin.
+ Hogg departs at 11. L30 from Longdill.
+
+ _Friday, February 24._--Maie still well; favourable symptoms in the
+ child; we may indulge some hopes. Hogg calls at 2. Fanny departs. Dr.
+ Clarke calls; confirms our hopes of the child. Shelley finishes second
+ volume of Livy, p. 657. Hogg comes in the evening. Shelley very unwell
+ and exhausted.
+
+ _Saturday, February 25._--The child very well; Maie very well also;
+ drawing milk all day. Shelley is very unwell.
+
+ _Sunday, February 26_ (Mary).--Maie rises to-day. Hogg comes; talk;
+ she goes to bed at 6. Hogg calls at the lodgings we have taken. Read
+ _Corinne_. Shelley and Clara go to sleep. Hogg returns; talk with him
+ till past 11. He goes. Shelley and Clara go down to tea. Just settling
+ to sleep when a knock comes to the door; it is Fanny; she came to see
+ how we were; she stays talking till half-past 3, and then leaves the
+ room that Shelley and Mary may sleep. Shelley has a spasm.
+
+ _Monday, February 27._--Rise; talk and read _Corinne_. Hogg comes in
+ the evening. Shelley and Clara go out about a cradle....
+
+ _Tuesday, February 28._--I come downstairs; talk, nurse the baby, read
+ _Corinne_, and work. Shelley goes to Pemberton about his health.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 1._--Nurse the baby, read _Corinne_, and work.
+ Shelley and Clara out all morning. In the evening Peacock comes. Talk
+ about types, editions, and Greek letters all the evening. Hogg comes.
+ They go away at half-past 11. Bonaparte invades France.
+
+ _Thursday, March 2._--A bustle of moving. Read _Corinne_. I and my
+ baby go about 3. Shelley and Clara do not come till 6. Hogg comes in
+ the evening.
+
+ _Friday, March 3._--Nurse my baby; talk, and read _Corinne_. Hogg
+ comes in the evening.
+
+ _Saturday, March 4._--Read, talk, and nurse. Shelley reads the _Life
+ of Chaucer_. Hogg comes in the evening and sleeps.
+
+ _Sunday, March 5._--Shelley and Clara go to town. Hogg here all day.
+ Read _Corinne_ and nurse my baby. In the evening talk. Shelley
+ finishes the _Life of Chaucer_. Hogg goes at 11.
+
+ _Monday, March 6._--Find my baby dead. Send for Hogg. Talk. A
+ miserable day. In the evening read _Fall of the Jesuits_. Hogg sleeps
+ here.
+
+ _Tuesday, March 7._--Shelley and Clara go after breakfast to town.
+ Write to Fanny. Hogg stays all day with us; talk with him, and read
+ the _Fall of the Jesuits_ and _Rinaldo Rinaldini_. Not in good
+ spirits. Hogg goes at 11. A fuss. To bed at 3.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 8._--Finish _Rinaldini_. Talk with Shelley. In very
+ bad spirits, but get better; sleep a little in the day. In the evening
+ net. Hogg comes; he goes at half-past 11. Clara has written for Fanny,
+ but she does not come.
+
+ _Thursday, March 9._--Read and talk. Still think about my little baby.
+ 'Tis hard, indeed, for a mother to lose a child. Hogg and Charles
+ Clairmont come in the evening. C. C. goes at 11. Hogg stays all night.
+ Read Fontenelle, _Plurality of Worlds_.
+
+ _Friday, March 10._--Hogg's holidays begin. Shelley, Hogg, and Clara
+ go to town. Hogg comes back soon. Talk and net. Hogg now remains with
+ us. Put the room to rights.
+
+ _Saturday, March 11._--Very unwell. Hogg goes to town. Talk about
+ Clara's going away; nothing settled; I fear it is hopeless. She will
+ not go to Skinner Street; then our house is the only remaining place,
+ I see plainly. What is to be done? Hogg returns. Talk, and Hogg reads
+ the _Life of Goldoni_ aloud.
+
+ _Sunday, March 4._--Talk a great deal. Not well, but better. Very
+ quiet all the morning, and happy, for Clara does not get up till 4. In
+ the evening read Gibbon, fourth volume; go to bed at 12.
+
+ _Monday, March 13._--Shelley and Clara go to town. Stay at home; net,
+ and think of my little dead baby. This is foolish, I suppose; yet,
+ whenever I am left alone to my own thoughts, and do not read to divert
+ them, they always come back to the same point--that I was a mother,
+ and am so no longer. Fanny comes, wet through; she dines, and stays
+ the evening; talk about many things; she goes at half-past 9. Cut out
+ my new gown.
+
+ _Tuesday, March 14._--Shelley calls on Dr. Pemberton. Net till
+ breakfast. Shelley reads _Religio Medici_ aloud, after Hogg has gone
+ to town. Work; finish Hogg's purse. Shelley and I go upstairs and talk
+ of Clara's going; the prospect appears to me more dismal than ever;
+ not the least hope. This is, indeed, hard to bear. In the evening Hogg
+ reads Gibbon to me. Charles Clairmont comes in the evening.
+
+ _Sunday, March 19._--Dream that my little baby came to life again;
+ that it had only been cold, and that we rubbed it before the fire, and
+ it lived. Awake and find no baby. I think about the little thing all
+ day. Not in good spirits. Shelley is very unwell. Read Gibbon. Charles
+ Clairmont comes. Hogg goes to town till dinner-time. Talk with Charles
+ Clairmont about Skinner Street. They are very badly off there. I am
+ afraid nothing can be done to save them. C. C. says that he shall go
+ to America; this I think a rather wild project in the Clairmont style.
+ Play a game of chess with Clara. In the evening Shelley and Hogg play
+ at chess. Shelley and Clara walk part of the way with Charles
+ Clairmont. Play chess with Hogg, and then read Gibbon.
+
+ _Monday, March 20._--Dream again about my baby. Work after breakfast,
+ and then go with Shelley, Hogg, and Clara to Bullock's Museum; spend
+ the morning there. Return and find more letters for A. Z.--one from a
+ "Disconsolate Widow."[15]
+
+ _Wednesday, March 22._--Talk, and read the papers. Read Gibbon all
+ day. Charles Clairmont calls about Shelley lending L100. We do not
+ return a decisive answer.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Thursday, March 23._--Read Gibbon. Shelley reads Livy. Walk with
+ Shelley and Hogg to Arundel Street. Read _Le Diable Boiteux_. Hear
+ that Bonaparte has entered Paris. As we come home, meet my father and
+ Charles Clairmont.... C. C. calls; he tells us that Papa saw us, and
+ that he remarked that Shelley was so beautiful, it was a pity he was
+ so wicked.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Tuesday, March 28._--Work in the morning and then walk out to look at
+ house.
+
+ _Saturday, April 8._--Peacock comes at breakfast-time; Hogg and he go
+ to town. Read _L'Esprit des Nations_. Settle to go to Virginia Water.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Sunday, April 9._--Rise at 8. Charles Clairmont comes to breakfast at
+ 10. Read some lines of Ovid before breakfast; after, walk with
+ Shelley, Hogg, Clara, and C. C. to pond in Kensington Gardens; return
+ about 2. C. C. goes to Skinner Street. Read Ovid with Hogg (finish
+ second fable). Shelley reads Gibbon and _Pastor Fido_ with Clara. In
+ the evening read _L'Esprit des Nations_. Shelley reads Gibbon, _Pastor
+ Fido_, and the story of Myrrha in Ovid.
+
+ _Monday, April 10._--Read Voltaire before breakfast. After breakfast
+ work. Shelley passes the morning with Harriet, who is in a
+ surprisingly good humour. Mary reads third fable of Ovid: Shelley and
+ Clara read _Pastor Fido_. Shelley reads Gibbon. Mrs. Godwin after
+ dinner parades before the windows. Talk in the evening with Hogg
+ about mountains and lakes and London.
+
+ _Tuesday, April 11._--Work in the morning. Receive letters from
+ Skinner Street to say that Mamma had gone away in the pet, and had
+ stayed out all night. Read fourth and fifth fables of Ovid.... After
+ tea, work. Charles Clairmont comes.
+
+ _Saturday, April 15._--Read Ovid till 3. Shelley and Clara finish
+ _Pastor Fido_, and then go out about Clara's lottery ticket; draws.
+ Clara's ticket comes up a prize. She buys two desks after dinner. Read
+ Ovid (ninety-five lines). Shelley and Clara begin _Orlando Furioso_. A
+ very grim dream.
+
+ _Friday, April 21._--After breakfast go with Shelley to Peacock's.
+ Shelley goes to Longdill's. Read third canto of the _Lord of the
+ Isles_. Return about 2. Shelley goes to Harriet to procure his son,
+ who is to appear in one of the courts. After dinner look over W. W.'s
+ poems. After tea read forty lines of Ovid. Fanny comes and gives us an
+ account of Hogan's threatened arrest of my Father. Shelley walks home
+ part of the way with her. Very sleepy. Shelley reads one canto of
+ Ariosto.
+
+ _Saturday, April 22._--Read a little of Ovid. Shelley goes to
+ Harriet's about his son. Work. Fanny comes. Shelley returns at 4; he
+ has been much teased with Harriet. He has been to Longdill's,
+ Whitton's, etc., and at length has got a promise that he shall appear
+ Monday. After dinner Fanny goes. Read sixty lines of Ovid. Shelley and
+ Clara read to the middle of the fourteenth canto of Ariosto.
+
+Shortly after this several leaves of the journal are lost.
+
+ _Friday, May 5._--After breakfast to Marshall's,[16] but do not see
+ him. Go to the Tomb. Shelley goes to Longdill's. Return soon. Read
+ Spenser; construe Ovid.... After dinner talk with Shelley; then
+ Shelley and Clara go out.... Fanny comes; she tells us of Marshall's
+ servant's death. Papa is to see Mrs. Knapp to-morrow. Read Spenser.
+ Walk home with Fanny and with Shelley.... Shelley reads Seneca.
+
+ _Monday, May 8._--Go out with Shelley to Mrs. Knapp; not at home. Buy
+ Shelley a pencil-case. Return at 1. Read Spenser. Go again with
+ Shelley to Mrs. Knapp; she cannot take Clara. Read Spenser after
+ dinner. Clara goes out with Shelley. Talk with Jefferson (Hogg); write
+ to Marshall. Read Spenser. They return at 8. Very tired; go to bed
+ early. Jefferson scolds.
+
+ _Wednesday, May 10._--Not very well; rise late. Walk to Marshall's,
+ and talk with him for an hour. Go with Jefferson and Shelley to
+ British Museum--attend most to the statues; return at 2. Construe
+ Ovid. After dinner construe Ovid (100 lines); finish second book of
+ Spenser, and read two cantos of the third. Shelley reads Seneca every
+ day and all day.
+
+ _Friday, May 12._--Not very well. After breakfast read Spenser.
+ Shelley goes out with his friend; he returns first. Construe Ovid (90
+ lines); read Spenser. Jefferson returns at half-past 4, and tells us
+ that poor Sawyer is to be hung. These blessed laws! After dinner read
+ Spenser. Read over the Ovid to Jefferson, and construe about ten lines
+ more. Read Spenser. Shelley and the lady walk out. After tea, talk;
+ write Greek characters. Shelley and his friend have a last
+ conversation.
+
+ _Saturday, May 13._--Clara goes; Shelley walks with her. C. C. comes
+ to breakfast; talk. Shelley goes out with him. Read Spenser all day
+ (finish Canto 8, Book V.) Jefferson does not come till 5. Get very
+ anxious about Shelley; go out to meet him; return; it rains. Shelley
+ returns at half-past 6; the business is finished. After dinner Shelley
+ is very tired, and goes to sleep. Read Ovid (60 lines). C. C. comes to
+ tea. Talk of pictures.
+
+ (Mary).--A tablespoonful of the spirit of aniseed, with a small
+ quantity of spermaceti.
+
+ (Shelley)--9 drops of human blood, 7 grains of gunpowder, 1/2 oz. of
+ putrified brain, 13 mashed grave worms--the Pecksie's doom salve.
+
+ The Maie and her Elfin Knight.
+
+ I begin a new journal with our regeneration.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+MAY 1815-SEPTEMBER 1816
+
+
+"Our regeneration" meant, in other words, the departure of Jane or "Clara"
+Clairmont who, on the plea of needing change of air, went off by herself
+into cottage lodgings at Lynmouth, in North Devon. She had never shown any
+very great desire to go back to her family in Skinner Street, but even had
+it been otherwise, objections had now been raised to her presence there
+which made her return difficult if not impossible. Fanny Godwin's aunts,
+Everina Wollstonecraft and Mrs. Bishop, were Principals of a select
+Ladies' School in Dublin, and intended that, on their own retirement,
+their niece should succeed them in its management. They strongly objected
+now to her associating with Miss Clairmont, pointing out that, even if her
+morals were not injured, her professional prospects must be marred by the
+fact being generally known of her connection and companionship with a girl
+who undoubtedly had run away from home, and who was, untruly but not
+groundlessly, reported to be concerned in a notorious scandal.
+
+Her continued presence in the Shelley household, a thing probably never
+contemplated at the time of their hurried flight, was manifestly
+undesirable, on many grounds. To Mary it was a perpetual trial, and must,
+in the end, have tended towards disagreement between her and Shelley,
+while it put Clara herself at great and unjust social disadvantage. Not
+that she heeded that, or regretted the barrier that divided her from
+Skinner Street, where poverty and anxiety and gloom reigned paramount, and
+where she would have been watched with ceaseless and unconcealed
+suspicion. She had heard that her relations had even discussed the
+advisability of immuring her in a convent if she could be caught,--but she
+did not mean to be caught. She advertised for a situation as companion;
+nothing, however, came of this. An idea of sending her to board in the
+family of a Mrs. Knapp seems to have been entertained for some months both
+by Godwins and Shelleys, Charles Clairmont probably acting as a medium
+between the two households. But, after appearing well disposed at first,
+Mrs. Knapp thought better of the plan. She did not want, and would not
+have Clara. The final project, that of the Lynmouth lodgings, was a sudden
+idea, suddenly carried out, and devised with the Shelleys independently
+of the Godwins, who were not consulted, nor even informed, until it had
+been put into execution. So much is to be gathered from the letter which
+Clara wrote to Fanny a fortnight after her arrival.
+
+ CLARA TO FANNY.
+
+ _Sunday, 28th May 1815._
+
+ MY DEAR FANNY--Mary writes me that you thought me unkind in not
+ letting you know before my departure; indeed, I meant no unkindness,
+ but I was afraid if I told you that it might prevent my putting a plan
+ into execution which I preferred before all the Mrs. Knapps in the
+ world. Here I am at liberty; there I should have been under a
+ perpetual restraint. Mrs. Knapp is a forward, impertinent, superficial
+ woman. Here there are none such; a few cottages, with little,
+ rosy-faced children, scolding wives, and drunken husbands. I wish I
+ had a more amiable and romantic picture to present to you, such as
+ shepherds and shepherdesses, flocks and madrigals; but this is the
+ truth, and the truth is best at all times. I live in a little cottage,
+ with jasmine and honeysuckle twining over the window; a little
+ downhill garden full of roses, with a sweet arbour. There are only two
+ gentlemen's seats here, and they are both absent. The walks and
+ shrubberies are quite open, and are very delightful. Mr. Foote's
+ stands at top of the hill, and commands distant views of the whole
+ country. A green tottering bridge, flung from rock to rock, joins his
+ garden to his house, and his side of the bridge is a waterfall. One
+ tumbles directly down, and then flows gently onward, while the other
+ falls successively down five rocks, and seems like water running down
+ stone steps. I will tell you, so far, that it is a valley I live in,
+ and perhaps one you may have seen. Two ridges of mountains enclose the
+ village, which is situated at the west end. A river, which you may
+ step over, runs at the foot of the mountains, and trees hang so
+ closely over, that when on a high eminence you sometimes lose sight of
+ it for a quarter of a mile. One ridge of hills is entirely covered
+ with luxuriant trees, the opposite line is entirely bare, with long
+ pathways of slate and gray rocks, so that you might almost fancy they
+ had once been volcanic. Well, enough of the valleys and the mountains.
+
+ You told me you did not think I should ever be able to live alone. If
+ you knew my constant tranquillity, how cheerful and gay I am, perhaps
+ you would alter your opinion. I am perfectly happy. After so much
+ discontent, such violent scenes, such a turmoil of passion and hatred,
+ you will hardly believe how enraptured I am with this dear little
+ quiet spot. I am as happy when I go to bed as when I rise. I am never
+ disappointed, for I know the extent of my pleasures; and let it rain
+ or let it be fair weather, it does not disturb my serene mood. This is
+ happiness; this is that serene and uninterrupted rest I have long
+ wished for. It is in solitude that the powers concentre round the
+ soul, and teach it the calm, determined path of virtue and wisdom. Did
+ you not find this--did you not find that the majestic and tranquil
+ mountains impressed deep and tranquil thoughts, and that everything
+ conspired to give a sober temperature of mind, more truly delightful
+ and satisfying than the gayest ebullitions of mirth?
+
+ The foaming cataract and tall rock
+ Haunt me like a passion.
+
+ Now for a little chatting. I was quite delighted to hear that Papa had
+ at last got L1000. Riches seem to fly from genius. I suppose, for a
+ month or two, you will be easy--pray be cheerful. I begin to think
+ there is no situation without its advantages. You may learn wisdom and
+ fortitude in adversity, and in prosperity you may relieve and soothe.
+ I feel anxious to be wise; to be capable of knowing the best; of
+ following resolutely, however painful, what mature and serious thought
+ may prescribe; and of acquiring a prompt and vigorous judgment, and
+ powers capable of execution. What are you reading? Tell Charles, with
+ my best love, that I will never forgive him for having disappointed
+ me of Wordsworth, which I miss very much. Ask him, likewise, to lend
+ me his Coleridge's poems, which I will take great care of. How is dear
+ Willy? How is every one? If circumstances get easy, don't you think
+ Papa and Mamma will go down to the seaside to get up their health a
+ little? Write me a very long letter, and tell me everything. How is
+ your health? Now do not be melancholy; for heaven's sake be cheerful;
+ so young in life, and so melancholy! The moon shines in at my window,
+ there is a roar of waters, and the owls are hooting. How often do I
+ not wish for a curfew!--"swinging slow with sullen roar!" Pray write
+ to me. Do, there's a good Fanny.--Affectionately yours,
+
+ M. J. CLAIRMONT.
+
+ Miss Fanny Godwin,
+ 41 Skinner Street, Snow Hill, London.
+
+How long this delightful life of solitude lasted is not exactly known. For
+a year after this time both Clara's journal and that of Shelley and Mary
+are lost, and the next thing we hear of Clara is her being in town in the
+spring of 1816, when she first made Lord Byron's acquaintance.
+
+Mary, at any rate, enjoyed nearly a year of comparative peace and
+_tete-a-tete_ with Shelley, which, after all she had gone through, must
+have been happiness indeed. Had she known that it was the only year she
+would ever pass with him without the presence of a third person, it may be
+that--although her loyalty to Shelley stood every test--her heart might
+have sunk within her. But, happily for her, she could not foresee this.
+Her letter from Clifton shows that Clara's shadow haunted her at times.
+Still she was happy, and at peace. Her health, too, was better; and,
+though always weighed down by Godwin's anxieties, she and Shelley were,
+themselves, free for once from the pinch of actual penury and the
+perpetual fear of arrest.
+
+In June they made a tour in South Devon, and very probably paid Clara a
+visit in her rural retirement; after which Mary stayed for some time at
+Clifton, while Shelley travelled about looking for a country house to suit
+them. It was during one of his absences that Mary wrote to him the letter
+referred to above.
+
+ MARY TO SHELLEY.
+
+ CLIFTON, _27th July 1815_.
+
+ MY BELOVED SHELLEY--What I am now going to say is not a freak from a
+ fit of low spirits, but it is what I earnestly entreat you to attend
+ to and comply with.
+
+ We ought not to be absent any longer; indeed we ought not. I am not
+ happy at it. When I retire to my room, no sweet love; after dinner, no
+ Shelley; though I have heaps of things _very particular_ to say; in
+ fine, either you must come back, or I must come to you directly. You
+ will say, shall we neglect taking a house--a dear home? No, my love, I
+ would not for worlds give up that; but I know what seeking for a house
+ is, and, trust me, it is a very, _very_ long job, too long for one
+ love to undertake in the absence of the other. Dearest, I know how it
+ will be; we shall both of us be put off, day after day, with the hopes
+ of the success of the next day's search, for I am frightened to think
+ how long. Do you not see it in this light, my own love? We have been
+ now a long time separated, and a house is not yet in sight; and even
+ if you should fix on one, which I do not hope for in less than a
+ week, then the settling, etc. Indeed, my love, I cannot bear to remain
+ so long without you; so, if you will not give me leave, expect me
+ without it some day; and, indeed, it is very likely that you may, for
+ I am quite sick of passing day after day in this hopeless way.
+
+ Pray, is Clara with you? for I have inquired several times and no
+ letters; but, seriously, it would not in the least surprise me, if you
+ have written to her from London, and let her know that you are without
+ me, that she should have taken some such freak.
+
+ The Dormouse has hid the brooch; and, pray, why am I for ever and ever
+ to be denied the sight of my case? Have you got it in your own
+ possession? or where is it? It would give me very great pleasure if
+ you would send it me. I hope you have not already appropriated it, for
+ if you have I shall think it un-Pecksie of you, as Maie was to give it
+ you with her own hands on your birthday; but it is of little
+ consequence, for I have no hope of seeing you on that day; but I am
+ mistaken, for I have hope and certainty, for if you are not here on or
+ before the 3d of August, I set off on the 4th, in early coach, so as
+ to be with you in the evening of that dear day at least.
+
+ To-morrow is the 28th of July. Dearest, ought we not to have been
+ together on that day? Indeed we ought, my love, as I shall shed some
+ tears to think we are not. Do not be angry, dear love; your Pecksie is
+ a good girl, and is quite well now again, except a headache, when she
+ waits so anxiously for her love's letters.
+
+ Dearest, best Shelley, pray come to me; pray, pray do not stay away
+ from me! This is delightful weather, and you better, we might have a
+ delightful excursion to Tintern Abbey. My dear, dear love, I most
+ earnestly, and with tearful eyes, beg that I may come to you if you do
+ not like to leave the searches after a house.
+
+ It is a long time to wait, even for an answer. To-morrow may bring you
+ news, but I have no hope, for you only set off to look after one in
+ the afternoon, and what can be done at that hour of the day? You
+ cannot.
+
+They finally settled on a house at Bishopsgate just outside Windsor Park,
+where they passed several months of tranquillity and comparative health;
+perhaps the most peacefully happy time that Shelley had ever known or was
+ever to know. Shadows he, too, had to haunt him, but he was young, and the
+reaction from the long-continued strain of anxiety, fear, discomfort, and
+ill-health was so strong that it is no wonder if he yielded himself up to
+its influence. The summer was warm and dry, and most of the time was
+passed out of doors. They visited the source of the Thames, making the
+voyage in a wherry from Windsor to Cricklade. Charles Clairmont was of the
+party, and Peacock also, who gives a humorous account of the expedition,
+and of the cure he effected of Shelley's ailments by his prescription of
+"three mutton chops, well peppered." Shelley was at this time a strict
+vegetarian. Mary, Peacock says, kept a diary of the excursion, which,
+however, has been lost. Shelley's "Stanzas in the churchyard of Lechlade"
+were an enduring memento of the occasion. At Bishopsgate, under the oak
+shades of Windsor Great Park, he composed _Alastor_, the first mature
+production of his genius, and at Bishopsgate Mary's son William was born,
+on 24th January 1816.
+
+The list of books read during 1815 by Shelley and Mary is worth
+appending, as giving some idea of their wonderful mental activity and
+insatiable thirst for knowledge, and the singular sympathy which existed
+between them in these intellectual pursuits.
+
+ LIST OF BOOKS READ IN 1815.
+
+ MARY.
+
+ _Those marked * Shelley read also._
+
+ Posthumous Works. 3 vols.
+ Sorrows of Werter.
+ Don Roderick. By Southey.
+ *Gibbon's Decline and Fall 12 vols.
+ *Gibbon's Life and Letters. 1st Edition. 2 vols.
+ *Lara.
+ New Arabian Knights. 3 vols.
+ Corinna.
+ Fall of the Jesuits.
+ Rinaldo Rinaldini.
+ Fontenelle's Plurality of Worlds.
+ Hermsprong.
+ Le Diable Boiteux.
+ Man as he is.
+ Rokeby.
+ Ovid's Metamorphoses in Latin.
+ *Wordsworth's Poems.
+ *Spenser's Fairy Queen.
+ *Life of the Phillips.
+ *Fox's History of James II.
+ The Reflector.
+ Fleetwood.
+ Wieland.
+ Don Carlos.
+ *Peter Wilkins.
+ Rousseau's Confessions.
+ Leonora: a Poem.
+ Emile.
+ *Milton's Paradise Lost.
+ *Life of Lady Hamilton.
+ De l'Allemagne. By Madame de Stael.
+ Three vols, of Barruet.
+ *Caliph Vathek.
+ Nouvelle Heloise.
+ *Kotzebue's Account of his Banishment to Siberia.
+ Waverley.
+ Clarissa Harlowe.
+ Robertson's History of America.
+ *Virgil.
+ *Tale of a Tub.
+ *Milton's Speech on Unlicensed Printing.
+ *Curse of Kehama.
+ *Madoc.
+ La Bible Expliquee.
+ Lives of Abelard and Heloise.
+ *The New Testament.
+ *Coleridge's Poems.
+ First vol. of Systeme de la Nature.
+ Castle of Indolence.
+ Chatterton's Poems.
+ *Paradise Regained.
+ Don Carlos.
+ *Lycidas.
+ *St. Leon.
+ Shakespeare's Plays (part of which Shelley read aloud).
+ *Burke's Account of Civil Society.
+ *Excursion.
+ Pope's Homer's Illiad.
+ *Sallust.
+ Micromejas.
+ *Life of Chaucer.
+ Canterbury Tales.
+ Peruvian Letters.
+ Voyages round the World.
+ Plutarch's Lives.
+ *Two vols, of Gibbon.
+ Ormond.
+ Hugh Trevor.
+ *Labaume's History of the Russian War.
+ Lewis's Tales.
+ Castle of Udolpho.
+ Guy Mannering.
+ *Charles XII by Voltaire.
+ Tales of the East.
+
+
+ SHELLEY.
+
+ Pastor Fido.
+ Orlando Furioso.
+ Livy's History.
+ Seneca's Works.
+ Tasso's Gerusalemme Liberata.
+ Tasso's Aminta.
+ Two vols. of Plutarch in Italian.
+ Some of the Plays of Euripides.
+ Seneca's Tragedies.
+ Reveries of Rousseau.
+ Hesoid.
+ Novum Organum.
+ Alfieri's Tragedies.
+ Theocritus.
+ Ossian.
+ Herodotus.
+ Thucydides.
+ Homer.
+ Locke on the Human Understanding.
+ Conspiration de Rienzi.
+ History of Arianism.
+ Ockley's History of the Saracens.
+ Madame de Stael sur la Literature.
+
+These months of rest were needed to fit them for the year of shocks, of
+blows, of conflicting emotions which was to follow. As usual, the first
+disturbing cause was Clara Clairmont. Early in 1816 she was in town,
+possibly with her brother Charles, with whom she kept up correspondence,
+and with whom (thanks to funds provided by Shelley) she had in the autumn
+been travelling, or paying visits. She now started one of her "wild
+projects in the Clairmont style," which brought as its consequence the
+overshadowing of her whole life. She thought she would like to go on the
+stage, and she applied to Lord Byron, then connected with the management
+of Drury Lane Theatre, for some theatrical employment. The fascination of
+Byron's poetry, joined to his very shady social reputation, surrounded him
+with a kind of romantic mystery highly interesting to a wayward, audacious
+young spirit, attracted by anything that excited its curiosity. Clara
+never went on the stage. But she became Byron's mistress. Their connection
+lasted but a short time. Byron quickly tired of her, and when importuned
+with her or her affairs, soon came to look on her with positive antipathy.
+Nothing in Clara's letters to him[17] goes to prove that she was very
+deeply in love with him. The episode was an excitement and an adventure:
+one, to him, of the most trivial nature, but fraught with tragic indirect
+results to her, and, through her, to the Shelleys. They, although they
+knew of her acquaintance with Byron, were in complete and unsuspecting
+ignorance of its intimate nature. It might have been imagined that Clara
+would confide in them, and would even rejoice in doing so. But she had, on
+the contrary, a positive horror and dread of their finding out anything
+about her secret. She told Byron who Mary was, one evening when she knew
+they were to meet, but implored him beforehand to talk only on general
+subjects, and, if possible, not even to mention her name.
+
+This introduction probably took place in March, when Shelley and Mary
+were, for a short time, staying up in town. Shelley was occupied in
+transacting business, which had reference, as usual, to Godwin's affairs.
+A suit in Chancery was proceeding, to enable him to sell, to his father,
+the reversion of a portion of his estates. Short of obtaining this
+permission, he could not assist Godwin to the full extent demanded and
+expected by this latter, who chose to say, and was encouraged by his man
+of business to think that, if Shelley did not get the money, it was owing
+to slackness of effort or inclination on his part. The suit was, however,
+finally decided against Shelley. The correspondence between him and Godwin
+was painful in the highest degree, and must have embittered Mary's
+existence.
+
+Godwin, while leaving no stone unturned to get as much of Shelley's money
+as possible, and while exerting himself with feverish activity to control
+and direct to his own advantage the legal negotiations for disposal of
+part of the Shelley estates, yet declined personal communication with
+Shelley, and wrote to him in insulting terms, carrying sophistry so far as
+to assert that his dignity (save the mark!) would be compromised, not by
+taking Shelley's money, but by taking it in the form of a cheque made out
+in his, Godwin's, own name. Small wonder if Shelley was wounded and
+indignant. More than any one else, Godwin had taught and encouraged him to
+despise what he would have called prejudice.
+
+ "In my judgment," wrote Shelley, "neither I, nor your daughter, nor
+ her offspring, ought to receive the treatment which we encounter on
+ every side. It has perpetually appeared to me to have been your
+ especial duty to see that, so far as mankind value your good opinion,
+ we were dealt justly by, and that a young family, innocent, and
+ benevolent, and united should not be confounded with prostitutes and
+ seducers. My astonishment--and I will confess, when I have been
+ treated with most harshness and cruelty by you, my indignation--has
+ been extreme, that, knowing as you do my nature, any consideration
+ should have prevailed on you to be thus harsh and cruel. I lamented
+ also over my ruined hopes, of all that your genius once taught me to
+ expect from your virtue, when I found that for yourself, your family,
+ and your creditors, you would submit to that communication with me
+ which you once rejected and abhorred, and which no pity for my poverty
+ or sufferings, assumed willingly for you, could avail to extort. Do
+ not talk of _forgiveness_ again to me, for my blood boils in my veins,
+ and my gall rises against all that bears the human form, when I think
+ of what I, their benefactor and ardent lover, have endured of enmity
+ and contempt from you and from all mankind."
+
+That other, ordinary, people should resent his avowed opposition to
+conventional morality was, even to Shelley, less of an enigma than that
+Godwin, from whom he expected support, should turn against him. Yet he
+never could clearly realise the aspect which his relations with Mary bore
+to the world, who merely saw in him a married man who had deserted his
+wife and eloped with a girl of sixteen. He thought people should
+understand all he knew, and credit him with all he did not tell them; that
+they should sympathise and fraternise with him, and honour Mary the more,
+not the less, for what she had done and dared. Instead of this, the world
+accepted his family's estimate of its unfortunate eldest son, and cut him.
+It is no wonder that, as Peacock puts it, "the spirit of restlessness came
+over him again," and drove him abroad once more. His first intention was
+to settle with Mary and their infant child in some remote region of
+Scotland or Northern England. But he was at all times delicate, and he
+longed for balmy air and sunny skies. To these motives were added Clara's
+wishes, and, as she herself states, her pressing solicitations. Byron, she
+knew, was going to Geneva, and she persuaded the Shelleys to go there
+also, in the hope and intention of meeting him. Shelley had read and
+admired several of Byron's poems, and the prospect of possible
+companionship with a kindred mind was now and at all times supremely
+attractive to him. He had made repeated, but fruitless efforts to get a
+personal interview with Godwin, in the hope, probably, of coming to some
+definite understanding as to his hopelessly involved and intricate
+affairs. Godwin went off to Scotland on literary business and was absent
+all April. Before he returned Shelley, Mary, and Clara had started for
+Switzerland. The Shelleys were still ignorant and unsuspecting of the
+intrigue between Byron and Clara. Byron, knowing of Clara's wish to follow
+him to Geneva, enjoined her on no account to come alone or without
+protection, as he knew she was capable of doing; hence her determinate
+wish that the Shelleys should come. She wrote to Byron from Paris to tell
+him that she was so far on her way, accompanied by "the whole tribe of
+Otaheite philosophers," as she styles her friends and escort. Just before
+sailing from Dover Shelley wrote to Godwin, who was still in Scotland,
+telling him finally of the unsuccessful issue to his Chancery suit, of his
+doubtful and limited prospects of income or of ability to pay more than
+L300 for Godwin, and that only some months hence. He referred again to his
+painful position in England, and his present determination to remain
+abroad,--perhaps for ever,--with the exception of a possible, solitary,
+visit to London, should business make this inevitable. He touched on his
+old obligations to Godwin, assuring him of his continued respect and
+admiration in spite of the painful past, and of his regret for any too
+vehement words he might have used.
+
+ It is unfortunate for me that the part of your character which is
+ least excellent should have been met by my convictions of what was
+ right to do. But I have been too indignant, I have been unjust to
+ you--forgive me--burn those letters which contain the records of my
+ violence, and believe that however what you erroneously call fame and
+ honour separate us, I shall always feel towards you as the most
+ affectionate of friends.
+
+The travellers reached Geneva by the middle of May; their arrival
+preceding that of Byron by several days. A letter written by Mary Shelley
+from their first resting-place, the Hotel de Secheron, the descriptive
+portions of which were afterwards published by her, with the _Journal of a
+Six Weeks Tour_, gives a graphic account of their journey and their first
+impressions of Geneva.
+
+ HOTEL DE SECHERON, GENEVA,
+ _17th May 1816_.
+
+ We arrived at Paris on the 8th of this month, and were detained two
+ days for the purpose of obtaining the various signatures necessary to
+ our passports, the French Government having become much more
+ circumspect since the escape of Lavalette. We had no letters of
+ introduction, or any friend in that city, and were therefore confined
+ to our hotel, where we were obliged to hire apartments for the week,
+ although, when we first arrived, we expected to be detained one night
+ only; for in Paris there are no houses where you can be accommodated
+ with apartments by the day.
+
+ The manners of the French are interesting, although less attractive,
+ at least to Englishmen, than before the last invasion of the Allies;
+ the discontent and sullenness of their minds perpetually betrays
+ itself. Nor is it wonderful that they should regard the subjects of a
+ Government which fills their country with hostile garrisons, and
+ sustains a detested dynasty on the throne, with an acrimony and
+ indignation of which that Government alone is the proper object. This
+ feeling is honourable to the French, and encouraging to all those of
+ every nation in Europe who have a fellow-feeling with the oppressed,
+ and who cherish an unconquerable hope that the cause of liberty must
+ at length prevail.
+
+ Our route after Paris as far as Troyes lay through the same
+ uninteresting tract of country which we had traversed on foot nearly
+ two years before, but on quitting Troyes we left the road leading to
+ Neufchatel, to follow that which was to conduct us to Geneva. We
+ entered Dijon on the third evening after our departure from Paris, and
+ passing through Dole, arrived at Poligny. This town is built at the
+ foot of Jura, which rises abruptly from a plain of vast extent. The
+ rocks of the mountain overhang the houses. Some difficulty in
+ procuring horses detained us here until the evening closed in, when we
+ proceeded by the light of a stormy moon to Champagnolles, a little
+ village situated in the depth of the mountains. The road was
+ serpentine and exceedingly steep, and was overhung on one side by
+ half-distinguished precipices, whilst the other was a gulf, filled by
+ the darkness of the driving clouds. The dashing of the invisible
+ streams announced to us that we had quitted the plains of France, as
+ we slowly ascended amidst a violent storm of wind and rain, to
+ Champagnolles, where we arrived at twelve o'clock the fourth night
+ after our departure from Paris. The next morning we proceeded, still
+ ascending among the ravines and valleys of the mountain. The scenery
+ perpetually grows more wonderful and sublime; pine forests of
+ impenetrable thickness and untrodden, nay, inaccessible expanse spread
+ on every side. Sometimes the dark woods descending follow the route
+ into the valleys, the distorted trees struggling with knotted roots
+ between the most barren clefts; sometimes the road winds high into the
+ regions of frost, and then the forests become scattered, and the
+ branches of the trees are loaded with snow, and half of the enormous
+ pines themselves buried in the wavy drifts. The spring, as the
+ inhabitants informed us, was unusually late, and indeed the cold was
+ excessive; as we ascended the mountains the same clouds which rained
+ on us in the valleys poured forth large flakes of snow thick and fast.
+ The sun occasionally shone through these showers, and illuminated the
+ magnificent ravines of the mountains, whose gigantic pines were, some
+ laden with snow, some wreathed round by the lines of scattered and
+ lingering vapour; others darting their spires into the sunny sky,
+ brilliantly clear and azure.
+
+ As the evening advanced, and we ascended higher, the snow, which we
+ had beheld whitening the overhanging rocks, now encroached upon our
+ road, and it snowed fast as we entered the village of Les Rousses,
+ where we were threatened by the apparent necessity of passing the
+ night in a bad inn and dirty beds. For, from that place there are two
+ roads to Geneva; one by Nion, in the Swiss territory, where the
+ mountain route is shorter and comparatively easy at that time of the
+ year, when the road is for several leagues covered with snow of an
+ enormous depth; the other road lay through Gex, and was too circuitous
+ and dangerous to be attempted at so late an hour in the day. Our
+ passport, however, was for Gex, and we were told that we could not
+ change its destination; but all these police laws, so severe in
+ themselves, are to be softened by bribery, and this difficulty was at
+ length overcome. We hired four horses, and ten men to support the
+ carriage, and departed from Les Rousses at six in the evening, when
+ the sun had already far descended, and the snow pelting against the
+ windows of our carriage assisted the coming darkness to deprive us of
+ the view of the lake of Geneva and the far-distant Alps.
+
+ The prospect around, however, was sufficiently sublime to command our
+ attention--never was scene more awfully desolate. The trees in these
+ regions are incredibly large, and stand in scattered clumps over the
+ white wilderness; the vast expanse of snow was chequered only by these
+ gigantic pines, and the poles that marked our road; no river nor
+ rock-encircled lawn relieved the eye, by adding the picturesque to the
+ sublime. The natural silence of that uninhabited desert contrasted
+ strangely with the voices of the men who conducted us, who, with
+ animated tones and gestures, called to one another in a _patois_
+ composed of French and Italian, creating disturbance where, but for
+ them, there was none. To what a different scene are we now arrived! To
+ the warm sunshine, and to the humming of sun-loving insects. From the
+ windows of our hotel we see the lovely lake, blue as the heavens which
+ it reflects, and sparkling with golden beams. The opposite shore is
+ sloping and covered with vines, which, however, do not so early in the
+ season add to the beauty of the prospect. Gentlemen's seats are
+ scattered over these banks, behind which rise the various ridges of
+ black mountains, and towering far above, in the midst of its snowy
+ Alps, the majestic Mont Blanc, highest and queen of all. Such is the
+ view reflected by the lake; it is a bright summer scene without any of
+ that sacred solitude and deep seclusion that delighted us at Lucerne.
+ We have not yet found out any very agreeable walks, but you know our
+ attachment to water excursions. We have hired a boat, and every
+ evening, at about six o'clock, we sail on the lake, which is
+ delightful, whether we glide over a glassy surface or are speeded
+ along by a strong wind. The waves of this lake never afflict me with
+ that sickness that deprives me of all enjoyment in a sea-voyage; on
+ the contrary, the tossing of our boat raises my spirits and inspires
+ me with unusual hilarity. Twilight here is of short duration, but we
+ at present enjoy the benefit of an increasing moon, and seldom return
+ until ten o'clock, when, as we approach the shore, we are saluted by
+ the delightful scent of flowers and new-mown grass, and the chirp of
+ the grasshoppers, and the song of the evening birds.
+
+ We do not enter into society here, yet our time passes swiftly and
+ delightfully.
+
+ We read Latin and Italian during the heats of noon, and when the sun
+ declines we walk in the garden of the hotel, looking at the rabbits,
+ relieving fallen cockchafers, and watching the motions of a myriad of
+ lizards, who inhabit a southern wall of the garden. You know that we
+ have just escaped from the gloom of winter and of London; and coming
+ to this delightful spot during this divine weather, I feel as happy as
+ a new-fledged bird, and hardly care what twig I fly to, so that I may
+ try my new-found wings. A more experienced bird may be more difficult
+ in its choice of a bower; but, in my present temper of mind, the
+ budding flowers, the fresh grass of spring, and the happy creatures
+ about me that live and enjoy these pleasures, are quite enough to
+ afford me exquisite delight, even though clouds should shut out Mont
+ Blanc from my sight. Adieu!
+
+ M. S.
+
+On the 25th of May Byron, accompanied by his young Italian physician,
+Polidori, and attended by three men-servants, arrived at the Hotel de
+Secheron. It was now that he and Shelley became for the first time
+personally acquainted; an acquaintance which, though it never did and
+never could ripen quite into friendship, developed with time and
+circumstances into an association more or less familiar which lasted all
+Shelley's life. After the arrival of the English Milord and his retinue,
+the hotel quarters probably became less quiet and comfortable, and before
+June the Shelleys, with Clare[18] (who, while her secret remained a
+secret, must have found it inexpedient to live under the same roof with
+Byron) moved to a cottage on the other side of the lake, near Coligny;
+known as Maison Chapuis, but sometimes called Campagne Mont Alegre.
+
+ CAMPAGNE CHAPUIS, NEAR COLIGNY,
+ _1st June_.
+
+ You will perceive from my date that we have changed our residence
+ since my last letter. We now inhabit a little cottage on the opposite
+ shore of the lake, and have exchanged the view of Mont Blanc and her
+ snowy _aiguilles_ for the dark frowning Jura, behind whose range we
+ every evening see the sun sink, and darkness approaches our valley
+ from behind the Alps, which are then tinged by that glowing rose-like
+ hue which is observed in England to attend on the clouds of an
+ autumnal sky when daylight is almost gone. The lake is at our feet,
+ and a little harbour contains our boat, in which we still enjoy our
+ evening excursions on the water. Unfortunately we do not now enjoy
+ those brilliant skies that hailed us on our first arrival to this
+ country. An almost perpetual rain confines us principally to the
+ house; but when the sun bursts forth it is with a splendour and heat
+ unknown in England. The thunderstorms that visit us are grander and
+ more terrific than I have ever seen before. We watch them as they
+ approach from the opposite side of the lake, observing the lightning
+ play among the clouds in various parts of the heavens, and dart in
+ jagged figures upon the piny heights of Jura, dark with the shadow of
+ the overhanging clouds, while perhaps the sun is shining cheerily upon
+ us. One night we _enjoyed_ a finer storm than I had ever before
+ beheld. The lake was lit up, the pines on Jura made visible, and all
+ the scene illuminated for an instant, when a pitchy blackness
+ succeeded, and the thunder came in frightful bursts over our heads
+ amid the darkness.
+
+ But while I still dwell on the country around Geneva, you will expect
+ me to say something of the town itself; there is nothing, however, in
+ it that can repay you for the trouble of walking over its rough
+ stones. The houses are high, the streets narrow, many of them on the
+ ascent, and no public building of any beauty to attract your eye, or
+ any architecture to gratify your taste. The town is surrounded by a
+ wall, the three gates of which are shut exactly at ten o'clock, when
+ no bribery (as in France) can open them. To the south of the town is
+ the promenade of the Genevese, a grassy plain planted with a few
+ trees, and called Plainpalais. Here a small obelisk is erected to the
+ glory of Rousseau, and here (such is the mutability of human life) the
+ magistrates, the successors of those who exiled him from his native
+ country, were shot by the populace during that revolution which his
+ writings mainly contributed to mature, and which, notwithstanding the
+ temporary bloodshed and injustice with which it was polluted, has
+ produced enduring benefits to mankind, which not all the chicanery of
+ statesmen, nor even the great conspiracy of kings, can entirely render
+ vain. From respect to the memory of their predecessors, none of the
+ present magistrates ever walk in Plainpalais. Another Sunday
+ recreation for the citizens is an excursion to the top of Mont Salere.
+ This hill is within a league of the town, and rises perpendicularly
+ from the cultivated plain. It is ascended on the other side, and I
+ should judge from its situation that your toil is rewarded by a
+ delightful view of the course of the Rhone and Arne, and of the shores
+ of the lake. We have not yet visited it. There is more equality of
+ classes here than in England. This occasions a greater freedom and
+ refinement of manners among the lower orders than we meet with in our
+ own country. I fancy the haughty English ladies are greatly disgusted
+ with this consequence of republican institutions, for the Genevese
+ servants complain very much of their _scolding_, an exercise of the
+ tongue, I believe, perfectly unknown here. The peasants of Switzerland
+ may not however emulate the vivacity and grace of the French. They are
+ more cleanly, but they are slow and inapt. I know a girl of twenty
+ who, although she had lived all her life among vineyards, could not
+ inform me during what month the vintage took place, and I discovered
+ she was utterly ignorant of the order in which the months succeed one
+ another. She would not have been surprised if I had talked of the
+ burning sun and delicious fruits of December, or of the frosts of
+ July. Yet she is by no means deficient in understanding.
+
+ The Genevese are also much inclined to puritanism. It is true that
+ from habit they dance on a Sunday, but as soon as the French
+ Government was abolished in the town, the magistrates ordered the
+ theatre to be closed, and measures were taken to pull down the
+ building.
+
+ We have latterly enjoyed fine weather, and nothing is more pleasant
+ than to listen to the evening song of the wine-dressers. They are all
+ women, and most of them have harmonious although masculine voices. The
+ theme of their ballads consists of shepherds, love, flocks, and the
+ sons of kings who fall in love with beautiful shepherdesses. Their
+ tunes are monotonous, but it is sweet to hear them in the stillness of
+ evening, while we are enjoying the sight of the setting sun, either
+ from the hill behind our house or from the lake.
+
+ Such are our pleasures here, which would be greatly increased if the
+ season had been more favourable, for they chiefly consist in such
+ enjoyments as sunshine and gentle breezes bestow. We have not yet made
+ any excursion in the environs of the town, but we have planned
+ several, when you shall again hear of us; and we will endeavour, by
+ the magic of words, to transport the ethereal part of you to the
+ neighbourhood of the Alps, and mountain streams, and forests, which,
+ while they clothe the former, darken the latter with their vast
+ shadows.--Adieu!
+
+ M.
+
+Less than a fortnight after this Byron also left the hotel, annoyed beyond
+endurance by the unbounded curiosity of which he was the object. He
+established himself at the Villa Diodati, on the hill above the Shelleys'
+cottage, from which it was separated by a vineyard. Both he and Shelley
+were devoted to boating, and passed much time on the water, on one
+occasion narrowly escaping being drowned. Visits from one house to the
+other were of daily occurrence. The evenings were generally spent at
+Diodati, when the whole party would sit up into the small hours of the
+morning, discussing all possible and impossible things in earth and
+heaven. In temperament Shelley and Byron were indeed radically opposed to
+each other, but the intellectual intercourse of two men, alike condemned
+to much isolation from their kind by their gifts, their dispositions, and
+their misfortunes, could not but be a source of enjoyment to each. Despite
+his deep grain of sarcastic egotism, Byron did justice to Shelley's
+sincerity, simplicity, and purity of nature, and appreciated at their just
+value his mental powers and literary accomplishments. On the other hand,
+Shelley's admiration of Byron's genius was simply unbounded, while he
+apprehended the mixture of gold and clay in Byron's disposition with
+singular acuteness. His was the "pure mind that penetrateth heaven and
+hell." But at Geneva the two men were only finding each other out, and, to
+Shelley at least, any pain arising from difference of feeling or opinion
+was outweighed by the intense pleasure and refreshment of intellectual
+comradeship.
+
+Naturally fond of society, and indeed requiring its stimulus to elicit her
+best powers, Mary yet took a passive rather than an active share in these
+_symposia_. Looking back on them many years afterwards she wrote: "Since
+incapacity and timidity always prevented my mingling in the nightly
+conversations of Diodati, they were, as it were, entirely _tete-a-tete_
+between my Shelley and Albe."[19] But she was a keen, eager listener.
+Nothing escaped her observation, and none of this time was ever
+obliterated from her memory.
+
+To the intellectual ferment, so to speak, of the Diodati evenings, working
+with the new experiences and thoughts of the past two years, is due the
+conception of the story by which, as a writer, she is best remembered, the
+ghastly but powerful allegorical romance of _Frankenstein_. In her
+introduction to a late edition of this work (part of which has already
+been quoted here) Mary Shelley has herself told the history of its origin.
+
+ In the summer of 1816 we visited Switzerland, and became the
+ neighbours of Lord Byron. At first we spent our pleasant hours on the
+ lake, or wandering on its shores, and Lord Byron, who was writing the
+ third canto of _Childe Harold_, was the only one among us who put his
+ thoughts upon paper. These, as he brought them successively to us,
+ clothed in all the light and harmony of poetry, seemed to stamp as
+ divine the glories of heaven and earth, whose influences we partook
+ with him.
+
+ But it proved a wet, ungenial summer, and incessant rain often
+ confined us for days to the house. Some volumes of ghost stories,
+ translated from the German into French, fell into our hands. There was
+ the history of the Inconstant Lover, who, when he thought to clasp the
+ bride to whom he had pledged his vows, found himself in the arms of
+ the pale ghost of her whom he had deserted. There was the tale of the
+ sinful founder of his race, whose miserable doom it was to bestow the
+ kiss of death on all the younger sons of his fated house, just when
+ they reached the age of promise. His gigantic shadowy form, clothed,
+ like the ghost in Hamlet, in complete armour, but with the beaver up,
+ was seen at midnight, by the moon's fitful beams, to advance slowly
+ along the gloomy avenue. The shape was lost beneath the shadow of the
+ castle walls; but soon a gate swung back, a step was heard, the door
+ of the chamber opened, and he advanced to the couch of the blooming
+ youths, cradled in healthy sleep. Eternal sorrow sat upon his face as
+ he bent down and kissed the forehead of the boys, who from that hour
+ withered like flowers snapt upon the stalk. I have not seen these
+ stories since then, but their incidents are as fresh in my mind as if
+ I had read them yesterday. "We will each write a ghost story," said
+ Byron; and his proposition was acceded to. There were four of us. The
+ noble author began a tale, a fragment of which he printed at the end
+ of his poem of Mazeppa. Shelley, more apt to embody ideas and
+ sentiments in the radiance of brilliant imagery, and in the music of
+ the most melodious verse that adorns our language, than to invent the
+ machinery of a story, commenced one founded on the experiences of his
+ early life. Poor Polidori had some terrible idea about a skull-headed
+ lady, who was so punished for peeping through a keyhole--what to see I
+ forget--something very shocking and wrong of course; but when she was
+ reduced to a worse condition than the renowned Tom of Coventry he did
+ not know what to do with her, and he was obliged to despatch her to
+ the tomb of the Capulets, the only place for which she was fitted. The
+ illustrious poets also, annoyed by the platitude of prose, speedily
+ relinquished their ungrateful task. I busied myself to _think of a
+ story_,--a story to rival those which had excited us to this task. One
+ that would speak to the mysterious fears of our nature, and awaken
+ thrilling horror--one to make the reader dread to look round, to
+ curdle the blood and quicken the beatings of the heart. If I did not
+ accomplish these things my ghost story would be unworthy of its name.
+ I thought and wondered--vainly. I felt that blank incapability of
+ invention which is the greatest misery of authorship, when dull
+ Nothing replies to our anxious invocations. "_Have you thought of a
+ story?_" I was asked each morning, and each morning I was forced to
+ reply with a mortifying negative.
+
+ Everything must have a beginning, to speak in Sanchean phrase: and
+ that beginning must be linked to something that went before. The
+ Hindoos give the world an elephant to support it, but they make the
+ elephant stand upon a tortoise. Invention, it must be humbly admitted,
+ does not consist in creating out of void, but out of chaos; the
+ materials must, in the first place, be afforded: it can give form to
+ dark shapeless substances, but cannot bring into being the substance
+ itself. In all matters of discovery and invention, even of those that
+ appertain to the imagination, we are continually reminded of the story
+ of Columbus and his egg. Invention consists in the capacity of seizing
+ on the capabilities of a subject, and in the power of moulding and
+ fashioning ideas suggested to it.
+
+ Many and long were the conversations between Lord Byron and Shelley,
+ to which I was a devout but nearly silent listener. During one of
+ these various philosophical doctrines were discussed, and, among
+ others, the nature of the principle of life, and whether there was any
+ probability of its ever being discovered and communicated. They talked
+ of the experiments of Dr. Darwin (I speak not of what the doctor
+ really did, or said that he did, but, as more to my purpose, of what
+ was then spoken of as having been done by him), who preserved a piece
+ of vermicelli in a glass case till by some extraordinary means it
+ began to move with voluntary motion. Not thus, after all, would life
+ be given. Perhaps a corpse would be reanimated; galvanism had given
+ token of such things; perhaps the component parts of a creature might
+ be manufactured, brought together, and endued with vital warmth.
+
+ Night waned upon this talk, and even the witching hour had gone by,
+ before we retired to rest. When I placed my head upon my pillow I did
+ not sleep, nor could I be said to think. My imagination, unbidden,
+ possessed and guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in
+ my mind with a vividness far beyond the usual bounds of reverie. I
+ saw--with shut eyes, but acute mental vision,--I saw the pale student
+ of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together--I
+ saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the
+ working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an
+ uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely
+ frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the
+ stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world. His success would
+ terrify the artist; he would rush away from his odious handiwork,
+ horrorstricken. He would hope that, left to itself, the slight spark
+ which he had communicated would fade; that this thing, which had
+ received such imperfect animation, would subside into dead matter; and
+ he might sleep in the belief that the silence of the grave would
+ quench for ever the transient existence of the hideous corpse which he
+ had looked upon as the cradle of life. He sleeps; but he is awakened;
+ he opens his eyes; behold the horrid thing stands at his bedside,
+ opening his curtains, and looking on him with yellow, watery, but
+ speculative eyes.
+
+ I opened mine in terror. The idea so possessed my mind that a thrill
+ of fear ran through me, and I wished to exchange the ghastly image of
+ my fancy for the realities around. I see them still; the very room,
+ the dark _parquet_, the closed shutters, with the moonlight struggling
+ through, and the sense I had that the glassy lake and white high Alps
+ were beyond. I could not so easily get rid of my hideous phantom;
+ still it haunted me. I must try to think of something else. I recurred
+ to my ghost story--my tiresome unlucky ghost story. O! if I could only
+ contrive one which would frighten my reader as I myself had been
+ frightened that night!
+
+ Swift as light and as cheering was the idea that broke in upon me. "I
+ have found it! What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only
+ describe the spectre which had haunted my midnight pillow." On the
+ morrow I announced that I had _thought of a story_. I began that day
+ with the words, _It was on a dreary night of November_, making only a
+ transcript of the grim terrors of my waking dream.
+
+ At first I thought of but a few pages--of a short tale; but Shelley
+ urged me to develop the idea at greater length. I certainly did not
+ owe the suggestion of one incident, nor scarcely of one train of
+ feeling, to my husband, and yet, but for his incitement, it would
+ never have taken the form in which it was presented to the world. From
+ this declaration I must except the preface. As far as I can recollect,
+ it was entirely written by him.
+
+Every one now knows the story of the "Modern Prometheus,"--the student
+who, having devoted himself to the search for the principle of life,
+discovers it, manufactures an imitation of a human being, endows it with
+vitality, and having thus encroached on divine prerogative, finds himself
+the slave of his own creature, for he has set in motion a force beyond his
+power to control or annihilate. Aghast at the actual and possible
+consequences of his own achievement, he recoils from carrying it out to
+its ultimate end, and stops short of doing what is necessary to render
+this force independent. The being has, indeed, the perception and desire
+of goodness; but is, by the circumstances of its abnormal existence,
+delivered over to evil, and Frankenstein, and all whom he loves, fall
+victims to its vindictive malice. Surely no girl, before or since, has
+imagined, and carried out to its pitiless conclusion so grim an idea.
+
+Mary began her rough sketch of this story during the absence of Shelley
+and Byron on a voyage round the lake of Geneva; the memorable excursion
+during which Byron wrote the _Prisoner of Chillon_ and great part of the
+third canto of _Childe Harold_, and Shelley conceived the idea of that
+"Hymn to Intellectual Beauty," which may be called his confession of
+faith. When they returned they found Mary hard at work on the fantastic
+speculation which possessed her mind and exerted over it a fascination and
+a power of excitement beyond that of the sublime external nature which
+inspired the two poets.
+
+When, in July, she set off with Shelley and Clare on a short tour to the
+Valley of Chamounix, she took her MS. with her. They visited the Mer de
+Glace, and the source of the Arveiron. The magnificent scenery which
+inspired Shelley with his poem on "Mont Blanc," and is described by Mary
+in the extracts from her journal which follow, served her as a fitting
+background for the most preternatural portions of her romance.
+
+ _Tuesday, July 23_ (Chamounix).--In the morning, after breakfast, we
+ mount our mules to see the source of the Arveiron. When we had gone
+ about three parts of the way, we descended and continued our route on
+ foot, over loose stones, many of which were an enormous size. We came
+ to the source, which lies (like a stage) surrounded on the three sides
+ by mountains and glaciers. We sat on a rock, which formed the fourth,
+ gazing on the scene before us. An immense glacier was on our left,
+ which continually rolled stones to its foot. It is very dangerous to
+ be directly under this. Our guide told us a story of two Hollanders
+ who went, without any guide, into a cavern of the glacier, and fired a
+ pistol there, which drew down a large piece on them. We see several
+ avalanches, some very small, others of great magnitude, which roared
+ and smoked, overwhelming everything as it passed along, and
+ precipitating great pieces of ice into the valley below. This glacier
+ is increasing every day a foot, closing up the valley. We drink some
+ water of the Arveiron and return. After dinner think it will rain, and
+ Shelley goes alone to the glacier of Boison. I stay at home. Read
+ several tales of Voltaire. In the evening I copy Shelley's letter to
+ Peacock.
+
+ _Wednesday, July 24._--To-day is rainy; therefore we cannot go to Col
+ de Balme. About 10 the weather appears clearing up. Shelley and I
+ begin our journey to Montanvert. Nothing can be more desolate than the
+ ascent of this mountain; the trees in many places having been torn
+ away by avalanches, and some half leaning over others, intermingled
+ with stones, present the appearance of vast and dreadful desolation.
+ It began to rain almost as soon as we left our inn. When we had
+ mounted considerably we turned to look on the scene. A dense white
+ mist covered the vale, and tops of scattered pines peeping above were
+ the only objects that presented themselves. The rain continued in
+ torrents. We were wetted to the skin; so that, when we had ascended
+ halfway, we resolved to turn back. As we descended, Shelley went
+ before, and, tripping up, fell upon his knee. This added to the
+ weakness occasioned by a blow on his ascent; he fainted, and was for
+ some minutes incapacitated from continuing his route.
+
+ We arrived wet to the skin. I read _Nouvelles Nouvelles_, and write my
+ story. Shelley writes part of letter.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Saturday, July 27._--It is a most beautiful day, without a cloud. We
+ set off at 12. The day is hot, yet there is a fine breeze. We pass by
+ the Great Waterfall, which presents an aspect of singular beauty. The
+ wind carries it away from the rock, and on towards the north, and the
+ fine spray into which it is entirely dissolved passes before the
+ mountain like a mist.
+
+ The other cascade has very little water, and is consequently not so
+ beautiful as before. The evening of the day is calm and beautiful.
+ Evening is the only time I enjoy travelling. The horses went fast, and
+ the plain opened before us. We saw Jura and the Lake like old friends.
+ I longed to see my pretty babe. At 9, after much inquiring and
+ stupidity, we find the road, and alight at Diodati. We converse with
+ Lord Byron till 12, and then go down to Chapuis, kiss our babe, and go
+ to bed.
+
+Circumstances had modified Shelley's previous intention of remaining
+permanently abroad, and the end of August found him moving homeward.
+
+The following extracts from Mary's diary give a sketch of their life
+during the few weeks preceding their return to England.
+
+ _Sunday, July 28_ (Montalegre).--I read Voltaire's _Romans_. Shelley
+ reads Lucretius, and talks with Clare. After dinner he goes out in the
+ boat with Lord Byron, and we all go up to Diodati in the evening. This
+ is the second anniversary since Shelley's and my union.
+
+ _Monday, July 29._--Write; read Voltaire and Quintus Curtius. A rainy
+ day, with thunder and lightning. Shelley finishes Lucretius, and reads
+ Pliny's _Letters_.
+
+ _Tuesday, July 30._--Read Quintus Curtius. Shelley read Pliny's
+ _Letters_. After dinner we go up to Diodati, and stay the evening.
+
+ _Thursday, August 1._--Make a balloon for Shelley, after which he goes
+ up to Diodati, to dine and spend the evening. Read twelve pages of
+ Curtius. Write, and read the _Reveries of Rousseau_. Shelley reads
+ Pliny's _Letters_.
+
+ _Friday, August 2._--I go to the town with Shelley, to buy a telescope
+ for his birthday present. In the evening Lord Byron and he go out in
+ the boat, and, after their return, Shelley and Clare go up to
+ Diodati; I do not, for Lord Byron did not seem to wish it. Shelley
+ returns with a letter from Longdill, which requires his return to
+ England. This puts us in bad spirits. I read _Reveries_ and _Adele et
+ Theodore de Madame de Genlis_, and Shelley reads Pliny's _Letters_.
+
+ _Saturday, August 3._--Finish the first volume of _Adele_, and write.
+ After dinner write to Fanny, and go up to Diodati, where I read the
+ _Life of Madame du Deffand_. We come down early and talk of our plans.
+ Shelley reads Pliny's _Letters_, and writes letters.
+
+ _Sunday, August 4._--Shelley's birthday. Write; read _Tableau de
+ famille_. Go out with Shelley in the boat, and read to him the fourth
+ book of Virgil. After dinner we go up to Diodati, but return soon. I
+ read Curtius with Shelley, and finish the first volume, after which we
+ go out in the boat to set up the balloon, but there is too much wind;
+ we set it up from the land, but it takes fire as soon as it is up. I
+ finish the _Reveries of Rousseau_. Shelley reads and finishes Pliny's
+ _Letters_, and begins the _Panegyric of Trajan_.
+
+ _Wednesday, August 7._--Write, and read ten pages of Curtius. Lord
+ Byron and Shelley go out in the boat. I translate in the evening, and
+ afterwards go up to Diodati. Shelley reads Tacitus.
+
+ _Friday, August 9._--Write and translate; finish _Adele_, and read a
+ little Curtius. Shelley goes out in the boat with Lord Byron in the
+ morning and in the evening, and reads Tacitus. About 3 o'clock we go
+ up to Diodati. We receive a long letter from Fanny.
+
+
+ FANNY TO MARY.
+
+ LONDON, _29th July 1816_.
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I have just received yours, which gave me great
+ pleasure, though not quite so satisfactory a one as I could have
+ wished. I plead guilty to the charge of having written in some degree
+ in an ill humour; but if you knew how I am harassed by a variety of
+ trying circumstances, I am sure you would feel for me. Besides other
+ plagues, I was oppressed with the most violent cold in my head when I
+ last wrote you that I ever had in my life. I will now, however,
+ endeavour to give as much information from England as I am capable of
+ giving, mixed up with as little spleen as possible. I have received
+ Jane's letter, which was a very dear and a very sweet one, and I
+ should have answered it but for the dreadful state of mind I generally
+ labour under, and which I in vain endeavour to get rid of. From your
+ and Jane's description of the weather in Switzerland, it has produced
+ more mischief abroad than here. Our rain has been as constant as
+ yours, for it rains every day, but it has not been accompanied by
+ violent storms. All accounts from the country say that the corn has
+ not yet suffered, but that it is yet perfectly green; but I fear that
+ the sun will not come this year to ripen it. As yet we have had fires
+ almost constantly, and have just got a few strawberries. You ask for
+ particulars of the state of England. I do not understand the causes
+ for the distress which I see, and hear dreadful accounts of, every
+ day; but I know that they really exist. Papa, I believe, does not
+ think much, or does not inquire, on these subjects, for I never can
+ get him to give me any information. From Mr. Booth I got the clearest
+ account, which has been confirmed by others since. He says that it is
+ the "Peace" that has brought all this calamity upon us; that during
+ the war the whole Continent were employed in fighting and defending
+ their country from the incursions of foreign armies; that England
+ alone was free to manufacture in peace; that our manufactories, in
+ consequence, employed several millions, and at higher wages, than were
+ wanted for our own consumption. Now peace is come, foreign ports are
+ shut, and millions of our fellow-creatures left to starve. He also
+ says that we have no need to manufacture for ourselves--that we have
+ enough of the various articles of our manufacture to last for seven
+ years--and that the going on is only increasing the evil. They say
+ that in the counties of Staffordshire and Shropshire there are 26,000
+ men out of employment, and without the means of getting any. A few
+ weeks since there were several parties of colliers, who came as far as
+ St. Albans and Oxford, dragging coals in immense waggons, without
+ horses, to the Prince Regent at Carlton House; one of these waggons
+ was said to be conducted by a hundred colliers. The Ministers,
+ however, thought proper, when these men had got to the distance from
+ London of St. Albans, to send Magistrates to them, who paid them
+ handsomely for their coals, and gave them money besides, telling them
+ that coming to London would only create disturbance and riot, without
+ relieving their misery; they therefore turned back, and the coals were
+ given away to the poor people of the neighbourhood where they were
+ met. This may give you some idea of the misery suffered. At Glasgow,
+ the state of wretchedness is worse than anywhere else. Houses that
+ formerly employed two or three hundred men now only employ three or
+ four individuals. There have been riots of a very serious nature in
+ the inland counties, arising from the same causes. This, joined to
+ this melancholy season, has given us all very serious alarm, and
+ helped to make me write so dismally. They talk of a change of
+ Ministers; but this can effect no good; it is a change of the whole
+ system of things that is wanted. Mr. Owen, however, tells us to cheer
+ up, for that in two years we shall feel the good effect of his plans;
+ he is quite certain that they will succeed. I have no doubt that he
+ will do a great deal of good; but how he can expect to make the rich
+ give up their possessions, and live in a state of equality, is too
+ romantic to be believed. I wish I could send you his Address to the
+ People of New Lanark, on the 1st of January 1816, on the opening of
+ the Institution for the Formation of Character. He dedicates it "To
+ those who have no private ends to accomplish, who are honestly in
+ search of truth for the purpose of ameliorating the condition of
+ society, and who have the firmness to follow the truth, wherever it
+ may lead, without being turned aside from the pursuit by the
+ _prepossessions or prejudices of any part of mankind_."
+
+ This dedication will give you some idea of what sort of an Address it
+ is. This Address was delivered on a Sunday evening, in a place set
+ apart for the purposes of religion, and brought hundreds of persons
+ from the regular clergymen to hear his profane Address,--against all
+ religions, governments, and all sorts of aristocracy,--which, he says,
+ was received with the greatest attention and highly approved. The
+ outline of his plan is this: "That no human being shall work more than
+ two or three hours every day; that they shall be all equal; that no
+ one shall dress but after the plainest and simplest manner; that they
+ be allowed to follow any religion, as they please; and that their
+ [studies] shall be Mechanics and Chemistry." I hate and am sick at
+ heart at the misery I see my fellow-beings suffering, but I own I
+ should not like to live to see the extinction of all genius, talent,
+ and elevated generous feeling in Great Britain, which I conceive to be
+ the natural consequence of Mr. Owen's plan. I am not either wise
+ enough, philosophical enough, nor historian enough, to say what will
+ make man plain and simple in manners and mode of life, and at the same
+ time a poet, a painter, and a philosopher; but this I know, that I had
+ rather live with the Genevese, as you and Jane describe, than live in
+ London, with the most brilliant beings that exist, in its present
+ state of vice and misery. So much for Mr. Owen, who is, indeed, a very
+ great and good man. He told me the other day that he wished our Mother
+ were living, as he had never before met with a person who thought so
+ exactly as he did, or who would have so warmly and zealously entered
+ into his plans. Indeed, there is nothing very promising in a return to
+ England at least for some time to come, for it is better to witness
+ misery in a foreign country than one's own, unless you have the means
+ of relieving it. I wish I could send you the books you ask for. I
+ should have sent them, if Longdill had not said he was not
+ sending--that he expected Shelley in England. I shall send again
+ immediately, and will then send you _Christabel_ and the "Poet's"
+ _Poems_. Were I not a dependent being in every sense of the word, but
+ most particularly in money, I would send you other things, which
+ perhaps you would be glad of. I am much more interested in Lord Byron
+ since I have read all his poems. When you left England I had only read
+ _Childe Harold_ and his smaller poems. The pleasure he has excited in
+ me, and gratitude I owe him for having cheered several gloomy hours,
+ makes me wish for a more finished portrait, both of his _mind_ and
+ _countenance_. From _Childe Harold_ I gained a very ill impression of
+ him, because I conceived it was _himself_,--notwithstanding the pains
+ he took to tell us it was an imaginary being. The _Giaour_, _Lara_,
+ and the _Corsair_ make me justly style him a poet. Do in your next
+ oblige me by telling me the minutest particulars of him, for it is
+ from the _small things_ that you learn most of character. Is his face
+ as fine as in your portrait of him, or is it more like the other
+ portrait of him? Tell me also if he has a pleasing voice, for that has
+ a great charm with me. Does he come into your house in a careless,
+ friendly, dropping-in manner? I wish to know, though not from idle
+ curiosity, whether he was capable of acting in the manner that the
+ London scandal-mongers say he did? You must by this time know if he is
+ a profligate in principle--a man who, like Curran, gives himself
+ unbounded liberty in all sorts of profligacy. I cannot think, from his
+ writings, that he can be such a _detestable being_. Do answer me these
+ questions, for where I love the poet I should like to respect the man.
+ Shelley's boat excursion with him must have been very delightful. I
+ think Lord Byron never writes so well as when he writes descriptions
+ of water scenes; for instance, the beginning of the _Giaour_. There is
+ a fine expressive line in _Childe Harold_: "Blow, swiftly blow, thou
+ keen compelling gale," etc. There could have been no difference of
+ sentiment in this divine excursion; they were both poets, equally
+ alive to the charms of nature and the eloquent writing of Rousseau. I
+ long very much to read the poem the "Poet" has written on the spot
+ where Julie was drowned. When will they come to England? Say that you
+ have a friend who has few pleasures, and is very impatient to read the
+ poems written at Geneva. If they are not to be published, may I see
+ them in manuscript? I am angry with Shelley for not writing himself.
+ It is impossible to tell the good that POETS do their
+ fellow-creatures, at least those that can feel. Whilst I read I am a
+ poet. I am inspired with good feelings--feelings that create perhaps
+ a more permanent good in me than all the everyday preachments in the
+ world; it counteracts the dross which one gives on the everyday
+ concerns of life, and tells us there is something yet in the world to
+ aspire to--something by which succeeding ages may be made happy and
+ perhaps better. If Shelley cannot accomplish any other good, he can
+ this divine one. Laugh at me, but do not be angry with me, for taking
+ up your time with my nonsense. I have sent again to Longdill, and he
+ has returned the same answer as before. I can [not], therefore, send
+ you _Christabel_. Lamb says it ought never to have been published;
+ that no one understands it; and _Kubla Khan_ (which is the poem he
+ made in his sleep) is nonsense. Coleridge is living at Highgate; he is
+ living with an apothecary, to whom he pays L5 a week for board,
+ lodging, and medical advice. The apothecary is to take care that he
+ does not take either opium or spirituous liquors. Coleridge, however,
+ was tempted, and wrote to a chemist he knew in London to send a bottle
+ of laudanum to Mr. Murray's in Albemarle Street, to be enclosed in a
+ parcel of books to him; his landlord, however, felt the parcel
+ outside, and discovered the fatal bottle. Mr. Morgan told me the other
+ day that Coleridge improved in health under the care of the
+ apothecary, and was writing fast a continuation of _Christabel_.
+
+ You ask me if Mr. Booth mentioned Isabel's having received a letter
+ from you. He never mentioned your name to me, nor I to him; but he
+ told Mamma that you had written a letter to her from Calais. He is
+ gone back, and promises to bring Isabel next year. He has given us a
+ volume of his _poetry_--_true, genuine poetry_--not such as
+ Coleridge's or Wordsworth's, but Miss Seward's and Dr. Darwin's--
+
+ Dying swains to sighing Delias.
+
+ You ask about old friends; we have none, and see none. Poor Marshal is
+ in a bad way; we see very little of him. Mrs. Kenny is going
+ immediately to live near Orleans, which is better for her than living
+ in London, afraid of her creditors. The Lambs have been spending a
+ month in the neighbourhood of Clifton and Bristol; they were highly
+ delighted with Clifton. Sheridan is dead. Papa was very much grieved
+ at his death. William and he went to his funeral. He was buried in the
+ Poets' Corner of Westminster Abbey, attended by all the high people.
+ Papa has visited his grave many times since. I am too young to
+ remember his speeches in Parliament. I never admired his style of
+ play-writing. I cannot, therefore, sympathise in the elegant tributes
+ to his memory which have been paid by all parties. Those things which
+ I have heard from all parties of his drunkenness I cannot admire. We
+ have had one great pleasure since your departure, in viewing a fine
+ collection of the Italian masters at the British Institution. Two of
+ the Cartoons are there. Paul preaching at Athens is the finest picture
+ I ever beheld.... I am going again to see this Exhibition next week,
+ before it closes, when I shall be better able to tell you which I most
+ admire of Raphael, Titian, Leonardo da Vinci, Domenichino, Claude, S.
+ Rosa, Poussin, Murillo, etc., and all of which cannot be too much
+ examined. I only wish I could have gone many times. Charles's letter
+ has not yet arrived. Do give me every account of him when you next
+ hear from him. I think it is of great consequence the mode of life he
+ now pursues, as it will most likely decide his future good or ill
+ doing. You ask what I mean by "plans with Mr. Blood?" I meant a
+ residence in Ireland. However, I will not plague you with them till I
+ understand them myself. My Aunt Everina will be in London next week,
+ when my future fate will be decided. I shall then give you a full and
+ clear account of what my unhappy life is to be spent in, etc. I left
+ it to the end of my letter to call your attention most seriously to
+ what I said in my last letter respecting Papa's affairs. They have now
+ a much more serious and threatening aspect than when I last wrote to
+ you. You perhaps think that Papa has gained a large sum by his novel
+ engagement, which is not the case. He could make no other engagement
+ with Constable than that they should share the profits equally between
+ them, which, if the novel is successful, is an advantageous bargain.
+ Papa, however, prevailed upon him to advance L200, to be deducted
+ hereafter out of the part he is to receive; and if two volumes of the
+ novel are not forthcoming on the 1st of January 1817, Constable has a
+ promissory note to come upon papa for the L200. This L200 I told you
+ was appropriated to Davidson and Hamilton, who had lent him L200 on
+ his _Caleb Williams_ last year; so that you perceive he has as yet
+ gained nothing on his novel, and all depends upon his future
+ exertions. He has been very unwell and very uneasy in his mind for the
+ last week, unable to write; and it was not till this day I discovered
+ the cause, which has given me great uneasiness. You seem to have
+ forgotten Kingdon's L300 to be paid at the end of June. He has had a
+ great deal of plague and uneasiness about it, and has at last been
+ obliged to give Kingdon his promissory note for L300, payable on
+ demand, so that every hour is not safe. Kingdon is no friend, and the
+ money Government money, and it cannot be expected he will show Papa
+ any mercy. I dread the effect on his health. He cannot sleep at night,
+ and is indeed very unwell. This he concealed from Mamma and myself
+ until this day. Taylor of Norwich has also come upon him again; he
+ says, owing to the distress of the country, he must have the money for
+ his children; but I do not fear him like Kingdon. Shelley said in his
+ letter, some weeks ago, that the L300 should come the end of June.
+ Papa, therefore, acted upon that promise. From your last letter I
+ perceive you think I colour my statements. I assure you I am most
+ anxious, when I mention these unfortunate affairs, to speak the truth,
+ and nothing but the truth, as it is. I think it my duty to tell you
+ the real state of the case, for I know you deceive yourself about
+ things. If Papa could go on with his novel in good spirits, I think it
+ would perhaps be his very best. He said the other day that he was
+ writing upon a subject no one had ever written upon before, and that
+ it would require great exertion to make it what he wished. Give my
+ love to Jane; thank her for her letter. I will write to her next week,
+ though I consider this long tiresome one as addressed to you all.
+ Give my love also to Shelley; tell him, if he goes any more
+ excursions, nothing will give me more pleasure than a description of
+ them. Tell him I like your [____][20] tour best, though I should like
+ to visit _Venice_ and _Naples_. Kiss dear William for me; I sometimes
+ consider him as my child, and look forward to the time of my old age
+ and his manhood. Do you dip him in the lake? I am much afraid you will
+ find this letter much too long; if it affords you any pleasure, oblige
+ me by a long one in return, but write small, for Mamma complains of
+ the postage of a double letter. I pay the full postage of all the
+ letters I send, and you know I have not a _sous_ of my own. Mamma is
+ much better, though not without rheumatism. William is better than he
+ ever was in his life. I am not well; my mind always keeps my body in a
+ fever; but never mind me. Do entreat J. to attend to her eyes. Adieu,
+ my dear Sister. Let me entreat you to consider seriously all that I
+ have said concerning your Father.--Yours, very affectionately,
+
+ FANNY.
+
+
+ _Journal, Saturday, August 10._--Write to Fanny. Shelley writes to
+ Charles. We then go to town to buy books and a watch for Fanny. Read
+ Curtius after my return; translate. In the evening Shelley and Lord
+ Byron go out in the boat. Translate, and when they return go up to
+ Diodati. Shelley reads Tacitus. A writ of arrest comes from Polidori,
+ for having "casse ses lunettes et fait tomber son chapeau" of the
+ apothecary who sells bad magnesia.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Monday, August 12._--Write my story and translate. Shelley goes to
+ the town, and afterwards goes out in the boat with Lord Byron. After
+ dinner I go out a little in the boat, and then Shelley goes up to
+ Diodati. I translate in the evening, and read _Le Vieux de la
+ Montagne_, and write. Shelley, in coming down, is attacked by a dog,
+ which delays him; we send up for him, and Lord Byron comes down; in
+ the meantime Shelley returns.
+
+ _Wednesday, August 14._--Read _Le Vieux de la Montagne_; translate.
+ Shelley reads Tacitus, and goes out with Lord Byron before and after
+ dinner. Lewis[21] comes to Diodati. Shelley goes up there, and Clare
+ goes up to copy. Remain at home, and read _Le Vieux de la Montagne_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Friday, August 16._--Write, and read a little of Curtius; translate;
+ read _Walther_ and some of _Rienzi_. Lord Byron goes with Lewis to
+ Ferney. Shelley writes, and reads Tacitus.
+
+ _Saturday, August 17._--Write, and finish _Walther_. In the evening I
+ go out in the boat with Shelley, and he afterwards goes up to Diodati.
+ Began one of Madame de Genlis's novels. Shelley finishes Tacitus.
+ Polidori comes down. Little babe is not well.
+
+ _Sunday, August 18._--Talk with Shelley, and write; read Curtius.
+ Shelley reads Plutarch in Greek. Lord Byron comes down, and stays here
+ an hour. I read a novel in the evening. Shelley goes up to Diodati,
+ and Monk Lewis.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Tuesday, August 20._--Read Curtius; write; read _Herman d'Unna_. Lord
+ Byron comes down after dinner, and remains with us until dark. Shelley
+ spends the rest of the evening at Diodati. He reads Plutarch.
+
+ _Wednesday, August 21._--Shelley and I talk about my story. Finish
+ _Herman d'Unna_ and write. Shelley reads Milton. After dinner Lord
+ Byron comes down, and Clare and Shelley go up to Diodati. Read
+ _Rienzi_.
+
+ _Friday, August 23._--Shelley goes up to Diodati, and then in the boat
+ with Lord Byron, who has heard bad news of Lady Byron, and is in bad
+ spirits concerning it.... Letters arrive from Peacock and Charles.
+ Shelley reads Milton.
+
+ _Saturday, August 24._--Write. Shelley goes to Geneva. Read. Lord
+ Byron and Shelley sit on the wall before dinner. After I talk with
+ Shelley, and then Lord Byron comes down and spends an hour here.
+ Shelley and he go up together.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Monday, August 26._--Hobhouse and Scroop Davis come to Diodati.
+ Shelley spends the evening there, and reads _Germania_. Several books
+ arrive, among others Coleridge's _Christabel_, which Shelley reads
+ aloud to me before going to bed.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Wednesday, August 28._--Packing. Shelley goes to town. Work. Polidori
+ comes down, and afterwards Lord Byron. After dinner we go upon the
+ water; pack; and Shelley goes up to Diodati. Shelley reads _Histoire
+ de la Revolution par Rabault_.
+
+ _Thursday, August 29._--We depart from Geneva at 9 in the morning.
+
+They travelled to Havre _via_ Dijon, Auxerre, and Villeneuve; allowing
+only a few hours for visiting the palaces of Fontainebleau and Versailles,
+and the Cathedral of Rouen. From Havre they sailed to Portsmouth, where,
+for a short time, they separated. Shelley went to stay with Peacock, who
+was living at Great Marlow, and had been looking about there for a house
+to suit his friends. Mary and Clare proceeded to Bath, where they were to
+spend the next few months.
+
+ _Journal, Tuesday, September 10._--Arrive at Bath about 2. Dine, and
+ spend the evening in looking for lodgings. Read Mrs. Robinson's
+ _Valcenga_.
+
+ _Wednesday, September 11._--Look for lodgings; take some, and settle
+ ourselves. Read the first volume of _The Antiquary_, and work.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+SEPTEMBER 1816-FEBRUARY 1817
+
+
+Trouble had, for some time past, been gathering in heavy clouds. Godwin's
+affairs were in worse plight than ever, and the Shelleys, go where they
+might, were never suffered to forget them. Fanny constituted herself his
+special pleader, and made it evident that she found it hard to believe
+Shelley could not, if he chose, get more money than he did for Mary's
+father. Her long letters, bearing witness in every line to her great
+natural intelligence and sensibility, excite the deepest pity for her, and
+not a little, it must be added, for those to whom they were addressed. The
+poor girl's life was, indeed, a hard one, and of all her trials perhaps
+the most insurmountable was that inherited melancholy of the
+Wollstonecraft temperament which permitted her no illusions, no moments,
+even, of respite from care in unreasoning gaiety such as are incidental to
+most young and healthy natures. Nor, although she won every one's respect
+and most people's liking, had she the inborn gift of inspiring devotion or
+arousing enthusiasm. She was one of those who give all and take nothing.
+The people she loved all cared for others more than they did for her, or
+cared only for themselves. Full of warmth and affection and ideal
+aspirations; sympathetically responsive to every poem, every work of art
+appealing to imagination, she was condemned by her temperament and the
+surroundings of her life to idealise nothing, and to look at all objects
+as they presented themselves to her, in the light of the very commonest
+day.
+
+Less pressing than Godwin, but still another disturbing cause, was Charles
+Clairmont, who was travelling abroad in search, partly of health, partly
+of occupation; had found the former, but not the latter, and, of course,
+looked to Shelley as the magician who was to realise all his plans for
+him. Of his discursive letters, which are immensely long, in a style of
+florid eloquence, only a few specimen extracts can find room here. One,
+received by Shelley and Mary at Geneva, openly confesses that, though it
+was a year since he had left England, he had abstained, as yet, from
+writing to Skinner Street, being as unsettled as ever, and having had
+nothing to speak of but his pleasures;--having in short been going on
+"just like a butterfly,--though still as a butterfly of the best
+intentions." He proceeds to describe the country, his manner of living
+there, his health,--he details his symptoms, and sets forth at length the
+various projects he might entertain, and the marvellous cheapness of one
+and all of them, if only he could afford to have any projects at all. He
+enumerates items of expenditure connected with one of his schemes, and
+concludes thus--
+
+ I lay this proposal before you, without knowing anything of your
+ finances, which, I fear, cannot be in too flourishing a situation. You
+ will, I trust, consider of the thing, and treat it as frankly as it
+ has been offered. I know you too well not to know you would do for me
+ all in your power. Have the goodness to write to me as instantly as
+ possible.
+
+And Shelley did write,--so says the journal.
+
+Last not least, there was Clare. At what point of all this time did her
+secret become known to Shelley and Mary? No document as yet has seen the
+light which informs us of this. Perhaps some day it may. Unfortunately for
+biographers and for readers of biography, Mary's journal is almost devoid
+of personal gossip, or indeed of personalities of any kind. Her diary is a
+record of outward facts, and, occasionally, of intellectual impressions;
+no intimate history and no one else's affairs are confided to it. No
+change of tone is perceptible anywhere. All that can be asserted is that
+they knew nothing of it when they went to Geneva. In the absence of
+absolute proof to the contrary it is impossible to believe that they were
+not aware of it when they came back. Clare was an expecting mother. For
+four months they had all been in daily intercourse with Byron, who never
+was or could be reticent, and who was not restrained either by delicacy or
+consideration for others from saying what he chose. But when and how the
+whole affair was divulged and what its effect was on Shelley and Mary
+remains a mystery. From this time, however, Clare resumed her place as a
+member of their household. It cannot have been a matter of satisfaction to
+Mary: domestic life was more congenial without Clare's presence than with
+it, but now that there was a true reason for her taking shelter with them,
+Mary's native nobility of heart was equal to the occasion, and she gave
+help, support, and confidence, ungrudgingly and without stint. Never in
+her journal, and only once in her letters does any expression of
+discontent appear. They settled down together in their lodgings at Bath,
+but on the 19th of September Mary set out to join Shelley at Marlow for a
+few days, leaving Clara in charge of little Willy and the Swiss nurse
+Elise. On the 25th both were back at Bath, where they resumed their quiet,
+regular way of life, resting and reading. But this apparent peace was not
+to be long unbroken. Letters from Fanny followed each other in quick
+succession, breathing nothing but painful, perpetual anxiety.
+
+ FANNY TO MARY.
+
+ _26th September 1816._
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I received your letter last Saturday, which rejoiced my
+ heart. I cannot help envying your calm, contented disposition, and
+ the calm philosophical habits of life which pursue you, or rather
+ which you pursue everywhere. I allude to your description of the
+ manner in which you pass your days at Bath, when most women would
+ hardly have recovered from the fatigues of such a journey as you had
+ been taking. I am delighted to hear such pleasing accounts of your
+ William; I should like to see him, dear fellow; the change of air does
+ him infinite good, no doubt. I am very glad you have got Jane a
+ pianoforte; if anything can do her good and restore her to industry,
+ it is music. I think I gave her all the music here; however, I will
+ look again for what I can find. I am angry with Shelley for not giving
+ me an account of his health. All that I saw of him gave me great
+ uneasiness about him, and as I see him but seldom, I am much more
+ alarmed perhaps than you, who are constantly with him. I hope that it
+ is only the London air which does not agree with him, and that he is
+ now much better; however, it would have been kind to have said so.
+
+ Aunt Everina and Mrs. Bishop left London two days ago. It pained me
+ very much to find that they have entirely lost their little income
+ from Primrose Street, which is very hard upon them at their age. Did
+ Shelley tell you a singular story about Mrs. B. having received an
+ annuity which will make up in part for her loss?
+
+ Poor Papa is going on with his novel, though I am sure it is very
+ fatiguing to him, though he will not allow it; he is not able to study
+ as much as formerly without injuring himself; this, joined to the
+ plagues of his affairs, which he fears will never be closed, make me
+ very anxious for him. The name of his novel is _Mandeville, or a Tale
+ of the Seventeenth Century_. I think, however, you had better not
+ mention the name to any one, as he wishes it not to be announced at
+ present. Tell Shelley, as soon as he knows certainly about Longdill,
+ to write, that he may be eased on that score, for it is a great weight
+ on his spirits at present. Mr. Owen is come to town to prepare for the
+ meeting of Parliament. There never was so devoted a being as he is;
+ and it certainly must end in his doing a great deal of good, though
+ not the good he talks of.
+
+ Have you heard from Charles? He has never given us a single line. I am
+ afraid he is doing very ill, and has the conscience not to write a
+ parcel of lies. Beg the favour of Shelley, to copy for me his poem on
+ the scenes at the foot of Mont Blanc, and tell him or remind him of a
+ letter which you said he had written on these scenes; you cannot think
+ what a treasure they would be to me; remember you promised them to me
+ when you returned to England. Have you heard from Lord Byron since he
+ visited those sublime scenes? I have had great pleasure since I saw
+ Shelley in going over a fine gallery of pictures of the Old Masters at
+ Dulwich. There was a St. Sebastian by Guido, the finest picture I ever
+ saw; there were also the finest specimens of Murillo, the great
+ Spanish painter, to be found in England, and two very fine Titians.
+ But the works of art are not to be compared to the works of nature,
+ and I am never satisfied. It is only poets that are eternal
+ benefactors of their fellow-creatures, and the real ones never fail of
+ giving us the highest degree of pleasure we are capable of; they are,
+ in my opinion, nature and art united, and as such never fading.
+
+ Do write to me immediately, and tell me you have got a house, and
+ answer those questions I asked you at the beginning of this letter.
+
+ Give my love to Shelley, and kiss William for me. Your affectionate
+ Sister,
+
+ FANNY.
+
+When Shelley sold to his father the reversion of a part of his
+inheritance, he had promised to Godwin a sum of L300, which he had hoped
+to save from the money thus obtained. Owing to certain conditions attached
+to the transaction by Sir Timothy Shelley, this proved to be impossible.
+The utmost Shelley could do, and that only by leaving himself almost
+without resources, was to send something over L200; a bitter
+disappointment to Godwin, who had given a bill for the full amount.
+Shelley had perhaps been led by his hopes, and his desire to serve Godwin,
+to speak in too sanguine a tone as to his prospect of obtaining the money,
+and the letter announcing his failure came, Fanny wrote, "like a
+thunderclap." In her disappointment she taxed Shelley with want of
+frankness, and Shelley and Mary both with an apparent wish to avoid the
+subject of Godwin's affairs.
+
+ "You know," she writes, "the peculiar temperature of Papa's mind (if I
+ may so express myself); you know he cannot write when pecuniary
+ circumstances overwhelm him; you know that it is of the utmost
+ consequence, for _his own_ and the _world's sake_ that he should
+ finish his novel; and is it not your and Shelley's duty to consider
+ these things, and to endeavour to prevent, as far as lies in your
+ power, giving him unnecessary pain and anxiety?"
+
+To the Shelleys, who had strained every nerve to obtain this money,
+unmindful of the insulting manner in which such assistance was demanded
+and received by Godwin, these appeals to their sense of duty must have
+been exasperating. Nor were matters mended by hearing of sundry scandalous
+reports abroad concerning themselves--reports sedulously gathered by Mrs.
+Godwin, and of which Fanny thought it her duty to inform them, so as to
+put them on their guard. They, on their part, were indignant, especially
+with Mrs. Godwin, who had evidently, they surmised, gone out of her way
+to collect this false information, and had helped rather than hindered its
+circulation; and they expressed themselves to this effect. Fanny stoutly
+defended her stepmother against these attacks.
+
+ Mamma and I are not great friends, but, always alive to her virtues, I
+ am anxious to defend her from a charge so foreign to her character....
+ I told Shelley these (scandalous reports), and I still think they
+ originated with your servants and Harriet, whom I know has been very
+ industrious in spreading false reports about you. I at the same time
+ advised Shelley always to keep French servants, and he then seemed to
+ think it a good plan. You are very careless, and are for ever leaving
+ your letters about. English servants like nothing so much as scandal
+ and gossip; but this you know as well as I, and this is the origin of
+ the stories that are told. And this you choose to father on Mamma, who
+ (whatever she chooses to say in a passion to me alone) is the woman
+ the most incapable of such low conduct. I do not say that her
+ inferences are always the most just or the most amiable, but they are
+ always confined to myself and Papa. Depend upon it you are perfectly
+ safe as long as you keep your French servant with you.... I have now
+ to entreat you, Shelley, to tell Papa exactly what you can and what
+ you cannot do, for he does not seem to know what you mean in your
+ letter. I know that you are most anxious to do everything in your
+ power to complete your engagement to him, and to do anything that will
+ not ruin yourself to save him; but he is not convinced of this, and I
+ think it essential to his peace that he should be convinced of this. I
+ do not on any account wish you to give him false hopes. Forgive me if
+ I have expressed myself unkindly. My heart is warm in your cause, and
+ I am _anxious, most anxious_, that Papa should feel for you as I do,
+ both for your own and his sake.... All that I have said about Mamma
+ proceeds from the hatred I have of talking and petty scandal, which,
+ though trifling in itself, often does superior persons much injury,
+ though it cannot proceed from any but vulgar souls in the first
+ instance.
+
+This letter was crossed by Shelley's, enclosing more than
+L200--insufficient, however, to meet the situation or to raise the heavy
+veil of gloom which had settled on Skinner Street. Fanny could bear it no
+longer. Despairing gloom from Godwin, whom she loved, and who in his gloom
+was no philosopher; sordid, nagging, angry gloom from "Mamma," who,
+clearly enough, did not scruple to remind the poor girl that she had been
+a charge and a burden to the household (this may have been one of the
+things she only "chose to say in a passion, to Fanny alone"); her sisters
+gone, and neither of them in complete sympathy with her; no friends to
+cheer or divert her thoughts! A plan had been under consideration for her
+residing with her relatives in Ireland, and the last drop of bitterness
+was the refusal of her aunt, Everina Wollstonecraft, to have her. What was
+left for her? Much, if she could have believed it, and have nerved herself
+to patience. But she was broken down and blinded by the strain of over
+endurance. On the 9th of October she disappeared from home. Shelley and
+Mary in Bath suspected nothing of the impending crisis. The journal for
+that week is as follows--
+
+ _Saturday, October 5_ (Mary).--Read Clarendon and Curtius; walk with
+ Shelley. Shelley reads Tasso.
+
+ _Sunday, October 6_ (Shelley).--On this day Mary put her head through
+ the door and said, "Come and look; here's a cat eating roses; she'll
+ turn into a woman; when beasts eat these roses they turn into men and
+ women."
+
+ (Mary).--Read Clarendon all day; finish the eleventh book. Shelley
+ reads Tasso.
+
+ _Monday, October 7._--Read Curtius and Clarendon; write. Shelley reads
+ _Don Quixote_ aloud in the evening.
+
+ _Tuesday, October 8._--Letter from Fanny (this letter has not been
+ preserved). Drawing lesson. Walk out with Shelley to the South Parade;
+ read Clarendon, and draw. In the evening work, and Shelley reads _Don
+ Quixote_; afterwards read _Memoirs of the Princess of Bareith_ aloud.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 9._--Read Curtius; finish the _Memoirs_; draw. In
+ the evening a very alarming letter comes from Fanny. Shelley goes
+ immediately to Bristol; we sit up for him till 2 in the morning, when
+ he returns, but brings no particular news.
+
+ _Thursday, October 10._--Shelley goes again to Bristol, and obtains
+ more certain trace. Work and read. He returns at 11 o'clock.
+
+ _Friday, October 11._--He sets off to Swansea. Work and read.
+
+ _Saturday, October 12._--He returns with the worst account. A
+ miserable day. Two letters from Papa. Buy mourning, and work in the
+ evening.
+
+From Bristol Fanny had written not only to the Shelleys, but to the
+Godwins, accounting for her disappearance, and adding, "I depart
+immediately to the spot from which I hope never to remove."
+
+During the ensuing night, at the Mackworth Arms Inn, Swansea, she traced
+the following words--
+
+ I have long determined that the best thing I could do was to put an
+ end to the existence of a being whose birth was unfortunate, and whose
+ life has only been a series of pain to those persons who have hurt
+ their health in endeavouring to promote her welfare. Perhaps to hear
+ of my death may give you pain, but you will soon have the blessing of
+ forgetting that such a creature ever existed as....
+
+This note and a laudanum bottle were beside her when, next morning, she
+was found lying dead.
+
+The persons for whose sake it was--so she had persuaded herself--that she
+committed this act were reduced to a wretched condition by the blow.
+Shelley's health was shattered; Mary profoundly miserable; Clare, although
+by her own avowal feeling less affection for Fanny than might have been
+expected, was shocked by the dreadful manner of her death, and infected by
+the contagion of the general gloom. She was not far from her confinement,
+and had reasons enough of her own for any amount of depression.
+
+Godwin was deeply afflicted; to him Fanny was a great and material loss,
+and the last remaining link with a happy past. As usual, public comment
+was the thing of all others from which he shrank most, and in the midst of
+his first sorrow his chief anxiety was to hide or disguise the painful
+story from the world. In writing (for the first time) to Mary he says--
+
+ Do not expose us to those idle questions which, to a mind in anguish,
+ is one of the severest of all trials. We are at this moment in doubt
+ whether, during the first shock, we shall not say that she is gone to
+ Ireland to her aunt, a thing that had been in contemplation. Do not
+ take from us the power to exercise our own discretion. You shall hear
+ again to-morrow.
+
+ What I have most of all in horror is the public papers, and I thank
+ you for your caution, as it may act on this.
+
+ We have so conducted ourselves that not one person in our home has the
+ smallest apprehension of the truth. Our feelings are less tumultuous
+ than deep. God only knows what they may become.
+
+Charles Clairmont was not informed at all of Fanny's death; a letter from
+him a year later contains a message to her. Mrs. Godwin busied herself
+with putting the blame on Shelley. Four years later she informed Mrs.
+Gisborne that the three girls had been simultaneously in love with
+Shelley, and that Fanny's death was due to jealousy of Mary! This shows
+that the Shelleys' instinct did not much mislead them when they held
+Mary's stepmother responsible for the authorship and diffusion of many of
+those slanders which for years were to affect their happiness and peace.
+Any reader of Fanny's letters can judge how far Mrs. Godwin's allegation
+is borne out by actual facts; and to any one knowing aught of women and
+women's lives these letters afford clue enough to the situation and the
+story, and further explanation is superfluous. Fanny was fond of Shelley,
+fond enough even to forgive him for the trouble he had brought on their
+home, but her part was throughout that of a long-suffering sister, one,
+too, to whose lot it always fell to say all the disagreeable things that
+had to be said--a truly ungrateful task. Her loyalty to the Godwins,
+though it could not entirely divide her from the Shelleys, could and did
+prevent any intimacy of friendship with them. Her enlightened, liberal
+mind, and her generous, loving heart had won Shelley's recognition and his
+affection, and in a moment a veil was torn from his eyes, revealing to him
+unsuspected depths of suffering, sacrifice, and heroism--now it was too
+late. How much more they might have done for Fanny had they understood
+what she endured! There was he, Shelley, offering sympathy and help to the
+oppressed and the miserable all the world over, and here,--here under his
+very eyes, this tragic romance was acted out to the death.
+
+ Her voice did quiver as we parted,
+ Yet knew I not that heart was broken
+ From which it came,--and I departed,
+ Heeding not the words then spoken--
+ Misery, ah! misery!
+ This world is all too wide for thee.
+
+If the echo of those lines reached Fanny in the world of shadows, it may
+have calmed the restless spirit with the knowledge that she had not lived
+for nothing after all.
+
+During the next two months another tragedy was silently advancing towards
+its final catastrophe. Shelley was anxious for intelligence of Harriet and
+her children; she had, however, disappeared, and he could discover no
+clue to her whereabouts. Mr. Peacock, who, during June, had been in
+communication with her on money matters, had now, apparently, lost sight
+of her. The worry of Godwin's money-matters and the fearful shock of
+Fanny's self-sought death, followed as it was by collapse of his own
+health and nerves, probably withdrew Shelley's thoughts from the subject
+for a time. In November, however, he wrote to Hookham, thinking that he,
+to whom Harriet had once written to discover Shelley's whereabouts, might
+now know or have the means of finding out where she was living. No answer
+came, however, to these inquiries for some weeks, during which Shelley,
+Mary, and Clare lived in their seclusion, reading Lucian and Horace,
+Shakespeare, Gibbon, and Locke; in occasional correspondence with Skinner
+Street, through Mrs. Godwin, who was now trying what she could do to
+obtain money loans (probably raised on Shelley's prospects), requisite,
+not only to save Godwin from bankruptcy, but to repay Shelley a small
+fraction of what he had given and lent, and without which he was unable to
+pay his own way.
+
+The plan for settling at Marlow was still pending, and on the 5th of
+December Shelley went there again to stay with Mr. Peacock and his mother,
+and to look about for a residence to suit him. Mary during his absence was
+somewhat tormented by anxiety for his fragile health; fearful, too, lest
+in his impulsive way he should fall in love with the first pretty place he
+saw, and burden himself with some unsuitable house, in the idea of
+settling there "for ever," Clare and all. To that last plan she probably
+foresaw the objections more clearly than Shelley did. But her cheery
+letters are girlish and playful.
+
+ _5th December 1816._
+
+ SWEET ELF--I got up very late this morning, so that I could not attend
+ Mr. West. I don't know any more. Good-night.
+
+
+ NEW BOND STREET, BATH,
+ _6th December 1816_.
+
+ SWEET ELF--I was awakened this morning by my pretty babe, and was
+ dressed time enough to take my lesson from Mr. West, and (thank God)
+ finished that tedious ugly picture I have been so long about. I have
+ also finished the fourth chapter of _Frankenstein_, which is a very
+ long one, and I think you would like it. And where are you? and what
+ are you doing? my blessed love. I hope and trust that, for my sake,
+ you did not go outside this wretched day, while the wind howls and the
+ clouds seem to threaten rain. And what did my love think of as he rode
+ along--did he think about our home, our babe, and his poor Pecksie?
+ But I am sure you did, and thought of them all with joy and hope. But
+ in the choice of a residence, dear Shelley, pray be not too quick or
+ attach yourself too much to one spot. Ah! were you indeed a winged
+ Elf, and could soar over mountains and seas, and could pounce on the
+ little spot. A house with a lawn, a river or lake, noble trees, and
+ divine mountains, that should be our little mouse-hole to retire to.
+ But never mind this; give me a garden, and _absentia_ Claire, and I
+ will thank my love for many favours. If you, my love, go to London,
+ you will perhaps try to procure a good Livy, for I wish very much to
+ read it. I must be more industrious, especially in learning Latin,
+ which I neglected shamefully last summer at intervals, and those
+ periods of not reading at all put me back very far.
+
+ The _Morning Chronicle_, as you will see, does not make much of the
+ riots, which they say are entirely quelled, and you would be almost
+ inclined to say, "Out of the mountain comes forth a mouse," although,
+ I daresay, poor Mrs. Platt does not think so.
+
+ The blue eyes of your sweet Boy are staring at me while I write this;
+ he is a dear child, and you love him tenderly, although I fancy that
+ your affection will increase when he has a nursery to himself, and
+ only comes to you just dressed and in good humour; besides when that
+ comes to pass he will be a wise little man, for he improves in mind
+ rapidly. Tell me, shall you be happy to have another little squaller?
+ You will look grave on this, but I do not mean anything.
+
+ Leigh Hunt has not written. I would advise a letter addressed to him
+ at the _Examiner_ Office, if there is no answer to-morrow. He may not
+ be at the Vale of Health, for it is odd that he does not acknowledge
+ the receipt of so large a sum. There have been no letters of any kind
+ to-day.
+
+ Now, my dear, when shall I see you? Do not be very long away; take
+ care of yourself and take a house. I have a great fear that bad
+ weather will set in. My airy Elf, how unlucky you are! I shall write
+ to Mrs. Godwin to-morrow; but let me know what you hear from Hayward
+ and papa, as I am greatly interested in those affairs. Adieu,
+ sweetest; love me tenderly, and think of me with affection when
+ anything pleases you greatly.--Your affectionate girl
+
+ MARY.
+
+ I have not asked Clare, but I dare say she would send her love,
+ although I dare say she would scold you well if you were here.
+ Compliments and remembrances to Dame Peacock and Son, but do not let
+ them see this.
+
+ Sweet, adieu!
+
+ Percy B. Shelley, Esq.,
+ Great Marlow, Bucks.
+
+On 6th December the journal records--
+
+ Letter from Shelley; he has gone to visit Leigh Hunt.
+
+This was the beginning of a lifelong intimacy.
+
+On the 14th Shelley returned to Bath, and on the very next day a letter
+from Hookham informed him that on the 9th Harriet's body had been taken
+out of the Serpentine. She had disappeared three weeks before that time
+from the house where she was living. An inquest had been held at which her
+name was given as Harriet Smith; little or no information about her was
+given to the jury, who returned a verdict of "Found drowned."
+
+Life and its complications had proved too much for the poor silly woman,
+and she took the only means of escape she saw open to her. Her piteous
+story was sufficiently told by the fact that when she drowned herself she
+was not far from her confinement. But it would seem from subsequent
+evidence that harsh treatment on the part of her relatives was what
+finally drove her to despair. She had lived a fast life, but had been,
+nominally at any rate, under her father's protection until a comparatively
+short time before her disappearance, when some act or occurrence caused
+her to be driven from his house. From that moment she sank lower and
+lower, until at last, deserted by one--said to be a groom--to whom she had
+looked for protection, she killed herself.
+
+It is asserted that she had had, all her life, an avowed proclivity to
+suicide. She had been fond, in young and happy days, of talking jocosely
+about it, as silly girls often do; discoursing of "some scheme of
+self-destruction as coolly as another lady would arrange a visit to an
+exhibition or a theatre."[22] But it is a wide dreary waste that lies
+between such an idea and the grim reality,--and poor Harriet had traversed
+it.
+
+Shelley's first thought on receiving the fatal news was of his children.
+His sensations were those of horror, not of remorse. He never spoke or
+thought of Harriet with harshness, rather with infinite pity, but he never
+regarded her save in the light of one who had wronged him and failed
+him,--whom he had left, indeed, but had forgiven, and had tried to save
+from the worst consequences of her own acts. Her dreadful death was a
+shock to him of which he said (to Byron) that he knew not how he had
+survived it; and he regarded her father and sister as guilty of her blood.
+But Fanny's death caused him acuter anguish than Harriet's did.
+
+As for Mary, she regarded the whole Westbrook family as the source of
+grief and shame to Shelley. Harriet she only knew for a frivolous,
+heartless, faithless girl, whom she had never had the faintest cause to
+respect, hardly even to pity. Poor Harriet was indeed deserving of
+profound commiseration, and no one could have known and felt this more
+than Mary would have done, in later years. But she heard one side of the
+case only, and that one the side on which her own strongest feelings were
+engaged. She was only nineteen, with an exalted ideal of womanly devotion;
+and at nineteen we may sternly judge what later on we may condemn indeed,
+but with a depth of pity quite beyond the power of its object to fathom or
+comprehend.
+
+No comment whatever on the occurrence appears in her journal. She threw
+herself ardently into Shelley's eagerness to get possession of his elder
+children; ready, for his sake, to love them as her own.
+
+It could not but occur to her that her own position was altered by this
+event, and that nothing now stood between her and her legal marriage to
+Shelley and acknowledgment as his wife. So completely, however, did they
+regard themselves as united for all time by indissoluble ties that she
+thought of the change chiefly as it affected other people.
+
+ MARY TO SHELLEY.
+
+ BATH, _17th December 1816_.
+
+ MY BELOVED FRIEND--I waited with the greatest anxiety for your letter.
+ You are well, and that assurance has restored some peace to me.
+
+ How very happy shall I be to possess those darling treasures that are
+ yours. I do not exactly understand what Chancery has to do in this,
+ and wait with impatience for to-morrow, when I shall hear whether they
+ are with you; and then what will you do with them? My heart says,
+ bring them instantly here; but I submit to your prudence. You do not
+ mention Godwin. When I receive your letter to-morrow I shall write to
+ Mrs. Godwin. I hope, yet I fear, that he will show on this occasion
+ some disinterestedness. Poor, dear Fanny, if she had lived until this
+ moment she would have been saved, for my house would then have been a
+ proper asylum for her. Ah! my best love, to you do I owe every joy,
+ every perfection that I may enjoy or boast of. Love me, sweet, for
+ ever. I hardly know what I mean, I am so much agitated. Clare has a
+ very bad cough, but I think she is better to-day. Mr. Carn talks of
+ bleeding if she does not recover quickly, but she is positively
+ resolved not to submit to that. She sends her love. My sweet love,
+ deliver some message from me to your kind friends at Hampstead; tell
+ Mrs. Hunt that I am extremely obliged to her for the little profile
+ she was so kind as to send me, and thank Mr. Hunt for his friendly
+ message which I did not hear.
+
+ These Westbrooks! But they have nothing to do with your sweet babes;
+ they are yours, and I do not see the pretence for a suit; but
+ to-morrow I shall know all.
+
+ Your box arrived to-day. I shall send soon to the upholsterer, for now
+ I long more than ever that our house should be quickly ready for the
+ reception of those dear children whom I love so tenderly. Then there
+ will be a sweet brother and sister for my William, who will lose his
+ pre-eminence as eldest, and be helped third at table, as Clare is
+ continually reminding him.
+
+ Come down to me, sweetest, as soon as you can, for I long to see you
+ and embrace.
+
+ As to the event you allude to, be governed by your friends and
+ prudence as to when it ought to take place, but it must be in London.
+
+ Clare has just looked in; she begs you not to stay away long, to be
+ more explicit in your letters, and sends her love.
+
+ You tell me to write a long letter, and I would, but that my ideas
+ wander and my hand trembles. Come back to reassure me, my Shelley, and
+ bring with you your darling Ianthe and Charles. Thank your kind
+ friends. I long to hear about Godwin.--Your affectionate
+
+ MARY.
+
+ Have you called on Hogg? I would hardly advise you. Remember me,
+ sweet, in your sorrows as well as your pleasures; they will, I trust,
+ soften the one and heighten the other feeling. Adieu.
+
+ To Percy Bysshe Shelley,
+ 5 Gray's Inn Square, London.
+
+No time was lost in putting things on their legal footing. Shelley took
+Mary up to town, where the marriage ceremony took place at St. Mildred's
+Church, Broad Street, in presence of Godwin and Mrs. Godwin. On the
+previous day he had seen his daughter for the first time since her flight
+from his house two and a half years before.
+
+Both must have felt a strange emotion which, probably, neither of them
+allowed to appear.
+
+Mary for a fortnight left a blank in her journal. On her return to Clifton
+she thus shortly chronicled her days--
+
+ I have omitted writing my journal for some time. Shelley goes to
+ London and returns; I go with him; spend the time between Leigh Hunt's
+ and Godwin's. A marriage takes place on the 29th of December 1816.
+ Draw; read Lord Chesterfield and Locke.
+
+Godwin's relief and satisfaction were great indeed. His letter to his
+brother in the country, announcing his daughter's recent marriage with a
+baronet's eldest son, can only be compared for adroit manipulation of
+facts with a later letter to Mr. Baxter of Dundee, in which he tells of
+poor Fanny's having been attacked in Wales by an inflammatory fever "which
+carried her off."
+
+He now surpassed himself "in polished and cautious attentions" both to
+Shelley and Mary, and appeared to wish to compensate in every way for the
+red-hot, righteous indignation which, owing to wounded pride rather than
+to offended moral sense, he had thought it his duty to exhibit in the
+past.
+
+Shelley's heart yearned towards his two poor little children by Harriet,
+and to get possession of them was now his feverish anxiety. On this
+business he was obliged, within a week of his return to Bath, to go up
+again to London. During his absence, on the 13th of January, Clare's
+little girl, Byron's daughter, was born. "Four days of idleness," are
+Mary's only allusion to this event. It was communicated to the absent
+father by Shelley, in a long letter from London. He quite simply assumes
+the event to be an occasion of great rejoicing to all concerned, and
+expects Byron to feel the same. The infant, who afterwards developed into
+a singularly fascinating and lovely child, was described in enthusiastic
+terms by Mary as unusually beautiful and intelligent, even at this early
+stage. Their first name for her was Alba, or "the Dawn"; a reminiscence of
+Byron's nickname, "Albe."
+
+Most of this month of January, while Mary had Clare and the infant to look
+after, was of necessity spent by Shelley in London. Harriet's father, Mr.
+Westbrook, and his daughter Eliza had filed an appeal to the Court of
+Chancery, praying that her children might be placed in the custody of
+guardians to be appointed by the Court, and not in that of their father.
+On 24th January, poor little William's first birthday, the case was heard
+before Lord Chancellor Eldon. Mary, expecting that the decision would be
+known at once, waited in painful suspense to hear the result.
+
+ _Journal, Friday, January 24._--My little William's birthday. How many
+ changes have occurred during this little year; may the ensuing one be
+ more peaceful, and my William's star be a fortunate one to rule the
+ decision of this day. Alas! I fear it will be put off, and the
+ influence of the star pass away. Read the _Arcadia_ and _Amadis_; walk
+ with my sweet babe.
+
+Her fears were realised, for two months were to elapse ere judgment was
+pronounced.
+
+ _Saturday, January 25._--An unhappy day. I receive bad news and
+ determine to go up to London. Read the _Arcadia_ and _Amadis_. Letter
+ from Mrs. Godwin and William.
+
+Accordingly, next day, Mary went up to join her husband in town, and notes
+in her diary that she was met at the inn by Mrs. Godwin and William. Well
+might Shelley say of the ceremony that it was "magical in its effects."
+
+As it turned out, this was her final departure from Bath: she never
+returned there. On her arrival in London she was warmly welcomed by
+Shelley's new friends, the Leigh Hunts, at whose house most of her time
+was spent, and whose genial, social circle was most refreshing to her. The
+house at Marlow had been taken, and was now being prepared for her
+reception. Little William and his nurse, escorted by Clare, joined her at
+the Hunts on the 18th of February, but Clare herself stayed elsewhere. At
+the end of the month they all departed for their new home, and were
+established there early in March.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+MARCH 1817-MARCH 1818
+
+
+The Shelleys' new abode, although situated in a lovely part of the
+country, was cold and cheerless, and, at that bleak time of year, must
+have appeared at its worst. Albion House stood (and, though subdivided and
+much altered in appearance, still stands) in what is now the main street
+of Great Marlow, and at a considerable distance from the river. At the
+back the garden-plot rises gradually from the level of the house,
+terminating in a kind of artificial mound, overshadowed by a spreading
+cedar; a delightfully shady lounge in summer, but shutting off sky and
+sunshine from the house. There are two large, low, old-fashioned rooms;
+one on the ground floor, somewhat like a farmhouse kitchen; the other
+above it; both facing towards the garden. In one of these Shelley fitted
+up a library, little thinking that the dwelling, which he had rashly taken
+on a more than twenty years' lease, would be his home for only a year. The
+rest of the house accommodated Mary, Clare, the children and servants,
+and left plenty of room for visitors. Shelley was hospitality itself, and
+though he never was in greater trouble for money than during this year, he
+entertained a constant succession of guests. First among these was Godwin;
+next, and most frequent, the genial but needy Leigh Hunt, with all his
+family. With Mary, as with Shelley, he had quickly established himself on
+a footing of easy, affectionate friendliness, as may be inferred from
+Mary's letter, written to him during her first days at Marlow.
+
+ MARLOW, _1 o'clock, 5th March 1817_.
+
+ MY DEAR HUNT--Although you mistook me in thinking I wished you to
+ write about politics in your letters to me--as such a thought was very
+ far from me,--yet I cannot help mentioning your last week's
+ _Examiner_, as its boldness gave me extreme pleasure. I am very glad
+ to find that you wrote the leading article, which I had doubted, as
+ there was no significant hand. But though I speak of this, do not fear
+ that you will be teased by _me_ on these subjects when we enjoy your
+ company at Marlow. When there, you shall never be serious when you
+ wish to be merry, and have as many nuts to crack as there are words in
+ the Petitions to Parliament for Reform--a tremendous promise.
+
+ Have you never felt in your succession of nervous feelings one single
+ disagreeable truism gain a painful possession of your mind and keep it
+ for some months? A year ago, I remember, my private hours were all
+ made bitter by reflections on the certainty of death, and now the
+ flight of time has the same power over me. Everything passes, and one
+ is hardly conscious of enjoying the present until it becomes the past.
+ I was reading the other day the letters of Gibbon. He entreats Lord
+ Sheffield to come with all his family to visit him at Lausanne, and
+ dwells on the pleasure such a visit will occasion. There is a little
+ gap in the date of his letters, and then he complains that this
+ solitude is made more irksome by their having been there and departed.
+ So will it be with us in a few months when you will all have left
+ Marlow. But I will not indulge this gloomy feeling. The sun shines
+ brightly, and we shall be very happy in our garden this
+ summer.--Affectionately yours,
+
+ MARINA.
+
+Not only did Shelley keep open house for his friends; his kindliness and
+benevolence to the distressed poor in Marlow and the surrounding country
+was unbounded. Nor was he content to give money relief; he visited the
+cottagers; and made himself personally acquainted with them, their needs,
+and their sufferings.
+
+In all these labours of love and charity he was heartily and constantly
+seconded by Mary.
+
+ No more alone through the world's wilderness,
+ Although (he) trod the paths of high intent,
+ (He) journeyed now.[23]
+
+From the time of her union with him Mary had been his consoler, his
+cherished love, all the dearer to him for the thought that she was
+dependent on him and only on him for comfort and support, and
+enlightenment of mind; but yet she was a child,--a clever child,--sedate
+and thoughtful beyond her years, and full of true womanly devotion,--but
+still one whose first and only acquaintance with the world had been made
+by coming violently into collision with it, a dangerous experience, and
+hardening, especially if prolonged. From the time of her marriage a
+maturer, mellower tone is perceptible throughout her letters and writings,
+as though, the unnatural strain removed, and, above all, intercourse with
+her father restored, she glided naturally and imperceptibly into the place
+Nature intended her to fill, as responsible woman and wife, with social as
+well as domestic duties to fulfil.
+
+The suffering of the past two or three years had left her wiser if also
+sadder than before; already she was beginning to look on life with a calm
+liberal judgment of one who knew both sides of many questions, yet still
+her mind retained the simplicity and her spirit much of the buoyancy of
+youth. The unquenchable spring of love and enthusiasm in Shelley's breast,
+though it led him into errors and brought him grief and disillusionment,
+was a talisman that saved him from Byronic sarcasm, from the bitterness of
+recoil and the death of stagnation. He suffered from reaction, as all such
+natures must suffer, but Mary was by his side to steady and balance and
+support him, and to bring to him for his consolation the balm she had
+herself received from him. Well might he write--
+
+ Now has descended a serener hour,
+ And, with inconstant fortune, friends return;
+ Though suffering leaves the knowledge and the power
+ Which says: Let scorn be not repaid with scorn.[24]
+
+And consolation and support were sorely needed. In March Lord Chancellor
+Eldon pronounced the judgment by which he was deprived, on moral and
+religious grounds, of the custody of his two elder children. How bitterly
+he felt, how keenly he resented, this decree all the world knows. The
+paper which he drew up during this celebrated case, in which he declared,
+as far as he chose to declare them, his sentiments with regard to his
+separation from Harriet and his union with Mary, is the nearest approach
+to self-vindication Shelley ever made. But the decision of the Court cast
+a slur on his name, and on that of his second wife. The final arrangements
+about the children dragged on for many months. They were eventually given
+over to the guardianship of a clergyman, a stranger to their father, who
+had to set aside L200 a year of his income for their maintenance in exile.
+
+Meanwhile Godwin's exactions were incessant, and his demands, sometimes
+impossible to grant, were harder than ever to deal with now that they were
+couched in terms of friendship, almost of affection. On 9th March we find
+Shelley writing to him--
+
+ It gives me pain that I cannot send you the whole of what you want. I
+ enclose a cheque to within a few pounds of my possessions.
+
+On 22d March (Godwin has been begging again, but this time in behalf of
+his old assistant and amanuensis, Marshall)--
+
+ Marshall's proposal is one in which, however reluctantly, I must
+ refuse to engage. It is that I should grant bills to the amount of his
+ debts, which are to expire in thirty months.
+
+On 15th April Godwin writes on his own behalf--
+
+ The fact is I owe L400 on a similar score, beyond the L100 that I owed
+ in the middle of 1815; and without clearing this, my mind will never
+ be perfectly free for intellectual occupations. If this were done, I
+ am in hopes that the produce of _Mandeville_, and the sensible
+ improvement in the commercial transactions of Skinner Street would
+ make me a free man, perhaps, for the rest of my life....
+
+ My life wears away in lingering sorrow at the endless delays that
+ attend on this affair.... Once every two or three months I throw
+ myself prostrate beneath the feet of Taylor of Norwich, and my other
+ discounting friends, protesting that this is absolutely for the last
+ time. Shall this ever have an end? Shall I ever be my own man again?
+
+One can imagine how such a letter would work on his daughter's feelings.
+
+Nor was Charles Clairmont backward about putting in his claims, although
+his modest little requests require, like gems, to be extracted carefully
+from the discursive raptures, the eloquent flights of fancy and poetic
+description in which they are embedded. In January he had written from
+Bagneres de Bigorre, where he was "acquiring the language"--
+
+ Sometimes I hardly dare believe, situated as I am, that I ought for a
+ moment to nourish the feelings of which I am now going to talk to
+ you; at other times I am so thoroughly convinced of their infinite
+ utility with regard to the moral existence of a being with strong
+ sensations, or at all events with regard to mine, that I fly to this
+ subject as to a tranquillising medicine, which has the power of so
+ arranging and calming every violent and illicit sensation of the soul
+ as to spread over the frame a deep and delightful contentment, for
+ such is the effect produced upon me by a contemplation of the perfect
+ state of existence, the perfect state of social domestic happiness
+ which I propose to myself. My life has hitherto been a tissue of
+ irregularity, which I assure you I am little content to reflect
+ upon.... I have been always neglectful of one of the most precious
+ possessions which a young man can hold--of my character.... You will
+ now see the object of this letter.... I desire strongly to marry, and
+ to devote myself to the temperate, rational duties of human life.... I
+ see, I confess, some objections to this step.... I am not forgetful of
+ what I owe to Godwin and my Mother, but we are in a manner entirely
+ separated.... It is true my feelings towards my Mother are cold and
+ inactive, but my attachment and respect for Godwin are unalterable,
+ and will remain so to the last moment of my existence.... The news of
+ his death would be to me a stroke of the severest affliction; that of
+ my own Mother would be no more than the sorrow occasioned by the loss
+ of a common acquaintance.
+
+ ... Unless every obstacle on the part of the object of my affection
+ were laid aside, you may suppose I should not speak so decisively. She
+ is perfectly acquainted with every circumstance respecting me, and we
+ feel that we love and are suited to each other; we feel that we should
+ be exquisitely happy in being devoted to each other.
+
+ ... I feel that I could not offer myself to the family without
+ assuring them of my capability of commanding an annual sufficiency to
+ support a little _menage_--that is to say, as near as I can obtain
+ information, 2000 francs, or about L80.... Do I dream, my dear
+ Shelley, when a gleam of gay hope gives me reason to doubt of the
+ possibility of my scheme?... Pray lose no time in writing to me, and
+ be as explicit as possible.
+
+The following extract is from a letter to Mary, written in August (the
+matrimonial scheme is now quite forgotten)--
+
+ I will begin by telling you that I received L10 some days ago, minus
+ the expenses.... I also received your letter, but not till after the
+ money.... I am most extremely vexed that Shelley will not oblige me
+ with a single word. It is now nearly six months that I have expected
+ from him a letter about my future plans.
+
+ Do, my dear Mary, persuade him to talk with you about them; and if he
+ always persists in remaining silent, I beg you will write for him, and
+ ask him what he would be inclined to approve.... Had I a little
+ fortune of L200 or L300 a year, nothing should ever tempt me to make
+ an effort to increase this golden sufficiency....
+
+ Respecting money matters.... I still owe (on the score of my
+ _pension_) nearly L15, this is all my debt here. Another month will
+ accumulate before I can receive your answer, and you will judge of
+ what will be necessary to me on the road, to whatever place I may be
+ destined. I cannot spend less than 3s. 6d. per day.
+
+ If Papa's novel is finished before you write, I wish to God you would
+ send it. I am now absolutely without money, but I have no occasion for
+ any, except for washing and postage, and for such little necessaries I
+ find no difficulty in borrowing a small sum.
+
+ If I knew Mamma's address, I should certainly write to her in France.
+ I have no heart to write to Skinner Street, for they will not answer
+ my letters. Perhaps, now that this haughty woman is absent, I should
+ obtain a letter. I think I shall make an effort with Fanny. As for
+ Clare, she has entirely forgotten that she has a brother in the
+ world.... Tell me if Godwin has been to visit you at Marlow; if you
+ see Fanny often; and all about the two Williams. What is Shelley
+ writing?
+
+Shelley, when this letter arrived, was writing _The Revolt of Islam_. To
+this poem, in spite of duns, sponges, and law's delays, his thoughts and
+time were consecrated during his first six months at Marlow; in spite,
+too, of his constant succession of guests; but society with him was not
+always a hindrance to poetic creation or intellectual work. Indeed, a
+congenial presence afforded him a kind of relief, a half-unconscious
+stimulus which yet was no serious interruption to thought, for it was
+powerless to recall him from his abstraction.
+
+Mary's life at Marlow was very different from what it had been at
+Bishopsgate and Bath. Her duties as house-mistress and hostess as well as
+Shelley's companion and helpmeet left her not much time for reverie. But
+her regular habits of study and writing stood her in good stead.
+_Frankenstein_ was completed and corrected before the end of May. It was
+offered to Murray, who, however, declined it, and was eventually published
+by Lackington.
+
+The negotiations with publishers calling her up to town, she paid a visit
+to Skinner Street. Shelley accompanied her, but was obliged to return to
+Marlow almost immediately, and as Mrs. Godwin also appears to have been
+absent, Mary stayed alone with her father in her old home. To him this
+was a pleasure.
+
+"Such a visit," he had written to Shelley, "will tend to bring back years
+that are passed, and make me young again. It will also operate to render
+us more familiar and intimate, meeting in this snug and quiet house, for
+such it appears to me, though I daresay you will lift up your hands, and
+wonder I can give it that appellation."
+
+To Mary every room in the house must have been fraught with unspeakable
+associations. Alone with the memories of those who were gone, of others
+who were alienated; conscious of the complete change in herself and
+transference of her sphere of sympathy, she must have felt, when Shelley
+left her, like a solitary wanderer in a land of shadows.
+
+ "I am very well here," she wrote, "but so intolerably restless that it
+ is painful to sit still for five minutes. Pray write. I hear so little
+ from Marlow that I can hardly believe that you and Willman live
+ there."
+
+Another train of mingled recollections was awakened by the fact of her
+chancing, one evening, to read through that third canto of _Childe Harold_
+which Byron had written during their summer in Switzerland together.
+
+ Do you remember, Shelley, when you first read it to me one evening
+ after returning from Diodati. The lake was before us, and the mighty
+ Jura. That time is past, and this will also pass, when I may weep to
+ read these words.... Death will at length come, and in the last
+ moment all will be a dream.
+
+What Mary felt was crystallised into expression by Shelley, not many
+months later--
+
+ The stream we gazed on then, rolled by,
+ Its waves are unreturning;
+ But we yet stand
+ In a lone land,
+ Like tombs to mark the memory
+ Of hopes and fears, which fade and flee
+ In the light of life's dim morning.
+
+On the last day of May, Mary returned to Marlow, where the Hunts were
+making a long stay. Externally life went quietly on. The summer was hot
+and beautiful, and they passed whole days in their boat or their garden,
+or in the woods. Their studies, as usual, were unremitting. Mary applied
+herself to the works of Tacitus, Buffon, Rousseau, and Gibbon. Shelley's
+reading at this time was principally Greek: Homer, Aeschylus, and Plato.
+His poem was approaching completion. Mary, now that _Frankenstein_ was off
+her hands, busied herself in writing out the journal of their first
+travels. It was published, in December, as _Journal of a Six Weeks' Tour_,
+together with the descriptive letters from Geneva of 1816.
+
+But her peace and Shelley's was threatened by an undercurrent of ominous
+disturbance which gained force every day.
+
+Byron remained abroad. But Clare and Clare's baby remained with the
+Shelleys. At Bath she had passed as "Mrs." Clairmont, but now resumed her
+former style, while Alba was said to be the daughter of a friend in
+London, sent for her health into the country. As time, however, went by,
+and the infant still formed one of the Marlow household, curiosity, never
+long dormant, became aroused. Whose was this child? And if, as officious
+gossip was not slow to suggest, it was Clare's, then who was its father?
+As month after month passed without bringing any solution of this problem,
+the vilest reports arose concerning the supposed relations of the
+inhabitants of Albion House--false rumours that embittered the lives of
+Alba's generous protectors, but to which Shelley's unconventionality and
+unorthodox opinions, and the stigma attached to his name by the Chancery
+decree, gave a certain colour of probability, and which in part, though
+indirectly, conduced to his leaving England again,--as it proved, for
+ever.
+
+Again and again did he write to Byron, pointing out with great gentleness
+and delicacy, but still in the plainest terms, the false situation in
+which they were placed with regard to friends and even to servants by
+their effort to keep Clare's secret; suggesting, almost entreating, that,
+if no permanent decision could be arrived at, some temporary arrangement
+should at least be made for Alba's boarding elsewhere. Byron, at this
+time plunged in dissipation at Venice, shelved or avoided the subject as
+long as he could. Clare was friendless and penniless, and her chances of
+ever earning an honest living depended on her power of keeping up
+appearances and preserving her character before the world. But the child
+was a remarkably beautiful, intelligent, and engaging creature, and its
+mother, impulsive, uncontrolled, and reckless, was at no trouble to
+conceal her devotion to it, regardless of consequences, and of the fact
+that these consequences had to be endured by others.
+
+Those who had forfeited the world's kindness seemed, as such, to be the
+natural _proteges_ of Shelley; and even Mary, who, not long before, had
+summed up all her earthly wishes in two items,--"a garden, _et absentia
+Claire_,"--stood by her now in spite of all. But their letters make it
+perfectly evident that they were fully alive to the danger that threatened
+them, and that, though they willingly harboured the child until some safe
+and fitting asylum should be found for it, they had never contemplated its
+residing permanently with them.
+
+To Mary Shelley this state of things brought one bitter personal grief and
+disappointment in the loss of her earliest friend, Isabel or Isobel
+Baxter, now married to Mr. David Booth, late brewer and subsequently
+schoolmaster at Newburgh-on-Tay, a man of shrewd and keen intellect, an
+immense local reputation for learning, and an estimation of his own gifts
+second to that of none of his admirers.
+
+The Baxters, as has already been said, were people of independent mind, of
+broad and liberal views; full of reverence and admiration for the
+philosophical writings of Godwin. Mary, in her extreme youth and
+inexperience, had quite expected that Isabel would have upheld her action
+when she first left her father's house with Shelley. In that she was
+disappointed, as was, after all, not surprising.
+
+Now, however, her friend, whose heart must have been with her all along,
+would surely feel justified in following that heart's dictates, and would
+return to the familiar, affectionate friendship which survives so many
+differences of opinion. And her hope received an encouragement when, in
+August, Mr. Baxter, Isabel's father, accepted an invitation to stay at
+Marlow. He arrived on the 1st of September, full of doubts as to what sort
+of place he was coming to,--apprehensions which, after a very short
+intercourse with Shelley, were changed into surprise and delight.
+
+But his visit was cut short by the birth, on the very next day, of Mary's
+little girl, Clara. He found it expedient to depart for a time, but
+returned later in the month for a longer stay.
+
+This second visit more than confirmed his first impression, and he wrote
+to his daughter in warm, nay, enthusiastic praise of Shelley, against whom
+Isabel was, not unnaturally, much prejudiced, so much so, it seems, as to
+blind her even to the merits of his writings.
+
+After a warm panegyric of Shelley as
+
+ A being of rare genius and talent, of truly republican frugality and
+ plainness of manners, and of a soundness of principle and delicacy of
+ moral tact that might put to shame (if shame they had) many of his
+ detractors,--and withal so amiable that you have only to be half an
+ hour in his company to convince you that there is not an atom of
+ malevolence in his whole composition.
+
+Mr. Baxter proceeds--
+
+ Is there any wonder that I should become attached to such a man,
+ holding out the hand of kindness and friendship towards me? Certainly
+ not. Your praise of his book[25] put me in mind of what Pope says of
+ Addison--
+
+ Damn with faint praise; assent with civil leer,
+ And, without sneering, others teach to sneer.
+
+ [You say] "some parts appear to be well written, but the arguments
+ appear to me to be neither new nor very well managed." After Hume such
+ a publication is quite puerile! As to the arguments not being new, it
+ would be a wonder indeed if any new arguments could be adduced in a
+ controversy which has been carried on almost since ever letters were
+ known. As to their not being well managed, I should be happy if you
+ would condescend on the particular instances of their being ill
+ managed; it was the first of Shelley's works I had read. I read it
+ with the notion that it _could_ only contain silly, crude, undigested
+ and puerile remarks on a worn-out subject; and yet I was unable to
+ discover any of that want of management which you complain of; but,
+ God help me, I thought I saw in it everything that was opposite. As
+ to its being puerile to write on such a subject after David Hume, I by
+ no means think that he has exhausted the subject. I think rather that
+ he has only proposed it--thrown it out, as it were, for a matter of
+ discussion to others who might come after him, and write in a less
+ bigoted, more liberal, and more enlightened age than the one he lived
+ in. Think only how many great men's labours we should decree to be
+ puerile if we were to hold everything puerile that has been written on
+ this subject since the days of Hume! Indeed, my dear, the remark
+ altogether savours more of the envy and illiberality of one jealous of
+ his talents than the frankness and candour characteristic of my
+ Isobel. Think, my dear, think for a moment what you would have said of
+ this work had it come from Robert,[26] who is as old as Shelley was
+ when he wrote it, or had it come from me, or even from----O! I must
+ not say David:[27] he, to be sure, is far above any such puerility.
+
+Her father's letter made Isabel waver, but in vain. It had no effect on
+Mr. Booth, who had been at the trouble of collecting and believing all the
+scandals about Alba, or "Miss Auburn," as she seems to have been called.
+He was not one to be biassed by personal feelings or beguiled by fair
+appearances, in the face of stubborn, unaccountable facts. He preferred to
+take the facts and draw his own inference--an inference which apparently
+seemed to him no improbable one.
+
+For a long time nothing decisive was said or done, but while the fate of
+her early friendship hung in the balances, Mary's anxiety for some
+settlement about Alba became almost intolerable to her, weighing on her
+spirits, and helping, with other depressing causes, to retard her
+restoration to health.
+
+On the 19th of September she summed up in her journal the heads of the
+seventeen days after Clara's birth during which she had written nothing.
+
+ I am confined Tuesday, 2d. Read _Rhoda_, Pastor's _Fireside_,
+ _Missionary_, _Wild Irish Girl_, _The Anaconda_, _Glenarvon_, first
+ volume of Percy's _Northern Antiquities_. Bargain with Lackington
+ concerning _Frankenstein_.
+
+ Letter from Albe (Byron). An unamiable letter from Godwin about Mrs.
+ Godwin's visits. Mr. Baxter returns to town. Thursday, 4th, Shelley
+ writes his poem; his health declines. Friday, 19th, Hunts arrive.
+
+As the autumn advanced it became evident that the sunless house at Marlow
+was exceedingly cold, and far too dreary a winter residence to be
+desirable for one of Shelley's feeble constitution, or even for Mary and
+her infant children. Shelley's health grew worse and worse. His poem was
+finished and dedicated to Mary in the beautiful lines beginning--
+
+ So now my summer-task is ended, Mary,
+ And I return to thee, mine own heart's home;
+ As to his Queen some victor Knight of Faery,
+ Earning bright spoils for her enchanted dome;
+ Nor thou disdain, that ere my fame become
+ A star among the stars of mortal night,
+ If it indeed may cleave its natal gloom,
+ Its doubtful promise thus I would unite
+ With thy beloved name, thou Child of love and light.
+
+But the reaction from the "agony and bloody sweat of intellectual
+travail," the troubles and griefs of the past year, and the ceaseless
+worry about money, all told injuriously on his physical state. He had to
+be constantly away from his home, up in town, on business; and his
+thoughts turned longingly again towards Italy. Byron had signified his
+consent to receive and provide for his daughter, subject to certain
+stringent conditions, chief among which was the child's complete
+separation from its mother, from the time it passed into his keeping. In
+writing to him on 24th September, Shelley adverts to his own wish to
+winter at Pisa, and the possibility in this case of his being himself
+Alba's escort to Italy.
+
+ "Now, dearest, let me talk to you," he writes to Mary. "I think we
+ ought to go to Italy. I think my health might receive a renovation
+ there, for want of which perhaps I should never entirely overcome that
+ state of diseased action which is so painful to my beloved. I think
+ Alba ought to be with her father. This is a thing of incredible
+ importance to the happiness, perhaps, of many human beings. It might
+ be managed without our going there. Yes; but not without an expense
+ which would, in fact, suffice to settle us comfortably in a spot where
+ I might be regaining that health which you consider so valuable. It is
+ valuable to you, my own dearest. I see too plainly that you will never
+ be quite happy till I am well. Of myself I do not speak, for I feel
+ only for you."
+
+He goes on to discuss the practicability of the plan from the financial
+point of view, calculating what sum they may hope to get by the sale of
+their lease and furniture, and how much he may be able to borrow, either
+from his kind friend Horace Smith, or from money-lenders on _post obits_,
+a ruinous process to which he was, all his life, forced to resort.
+
+Poor Mary in the chilly house at Marlow, with her three-weeks-old baby,
+her strength far from re-established, and her house full of guests, who
+made themselves quite at home, was not likely to take the most sanguine
+view of affairs.
+
+ _25th September 1817._
+
+ You tell me, dearest, to write you long letters, but I do not know
+ whether I can to-day, as I am rather tired. My spirits, however, are
+ much better than they were, and perhaps your absence is the cause. Ah!
+ my love! you cannot guess how wretched it was to see your languor and
+ increasing illness. I now say to myself, perhaps he is better; but
+ then I watched you every moment, and every moment was full of pain
+ both to you and to me. Write, my love, a long account of what Lawrence
+ says; I shall be very anxious until I hear.
+
+ I do not see a great deal of our guests; they rise late, and walk all
+ the morning. This is something like a contrary fit of Hunt's, for I
+ meant to walk to-day, and said so; but they left me, and I hardly wish
+ to take my first walk by myself; however, I must to-morrow, if he
+ still shows the same want of _tact_. Peacock dines here every day,
+ _uninvited_, to drink his bottle. I have not seen him; he morally
+ disgusts me; and Marianne says that he is very ill-tempered.
+
+ I was much pained last night to hear from Mr. Baxter that Mr. Booth is
+ ill-tempered and jealous towards Isabel; and Mr. Baxter thinks she
+ half regrets her marriage; so she is to be another victim of that
+ ceremony. Mr. Baxter is not at all pleased with his son-in-law; but
+ we can talk of that when we meet.
+
+ ... A letter came from Godwin to-day, very short. You will see him;
+ tell me how he is. You are loaded with business, the event of most of
+ which I am anxious to learn, and none so much as whether you can do
+ anything for my Father.
+
+
+ MARLOW, _26th September 1817_.
+
+ You tell me to decide between Italy and the sea. I think, dearest,
+ if--what you do not seem to doubt, but which I do, a little--our
+ finances are in sufficiently good a state to bear the expense of the
+ journey, our inclination ought to decide. I feel some reluctance at
+ quitting our present settled state, but as we _must_ leave Marlow, I
+ do not know that stopping short on this side the Channel would be
+ pleasanter to me than crossing it. At any rate, my love, do not let us
+ encumber ourselves with a lease again.... By the bye, talking of
+ authorship, do get a sketch of Godwin's plan from him. I do not think
+ that I ought to get out of the habit of writing, and I think that the
+ thing he talked of would just suit me. I am glad to hear that Godwin
+ is well.... As to Mrs. Godwin, something very analogous to disgust
+ arises whenever I mention her. That last accusation of Godwin's[28]
+ adds bitterness to every feeling I ever felt against her.... Mr.
+ Baxter thinks that Mr. Booth keeps Isabel from writing to me. He has
+ written to her to-day warmly in praise of us both, and telling her by
+ all means not to let the acquaintance cool, and that in such a case
+ her loss would be much greater than mine. He has taken a prodigious
+ fancy to us, and is continually talking of and praising "Queen Mab,"
+ which he vows is the best poem of modern days.
+
+
+ MARLOW, _28th September 1817_.
+
+ DEAREST LOVE--Clare arrived yesterday night, and whether it might be
+ that she was in a croaking humour (in ill spirits she certainly was),
+ or whether she represented things as they really were, I know not,
+ but certainly affairs did not seem to wear a very good face. She talks
+ of Harriet's debts to a large amount, and something about Longdill's
+ having undertaken for them, so that they must be paid. She mentioned
+ also that you were entering into a _post obit_ transaction. Now this
+ requires our serious consideration on one account. These things (_post
+ obits_), as you well know, are affairs of wonderful length; and if you
+ must complete one before you settle on going to Italy, Alba's
+ departure ought certainly not to be delayed.... You have not mentioned
+ yet to Godwin your thoughts of Italy; but if you determine soon, I
+ would have you do it, as these things are always better to be talked
+ of some days before they take place. I took my first walk to-day. What
+ a dreadfully cold place this house is! I was shivering over a fire,
+ and the garden looked cold and dismal; but as soon as I got into the
+ road, I found, to my infinite surprise, that the sun was shining, and
+ the air warm and delightful.... I will now tell you something that
+ will make you laugh, if you are not too teased and ill to laugh at
+ anything. Ah! dearest, is it so? You know now how melancholy it makes
+ me sometimes to think how ill and comfortless you may be, and I so far
+ away from you. But to my story. In Elise's last letter to her _chere
+ amie_, Clare put in that Madame Clairmont was very ill, so that her
+ life was in danger, and added, in Elise's person, that she (Elise) was
+ somewhat shocked to perceive that Mademoiselle Clairmont's gaiety was
+ not abated by the _douloureuse_ situation of her amiable sister. Jenny
+ replies--
+
+ "Mon amie, avec quel chagrin j'apprends la maladie de cette jolie et
+ aimable Madame Clairmont; pauvre chere dame, comme je la plains. Sans
+ doute elle aime tendrement son mari, et en etre separee pour
+ toujours--en avoir la certitude elle sentir--quelle cruelle chose;
+ qu'il doit etre un mechant homme pour quitter sa femme. Je ne sais ce
+ qu'il y a, mais cette jeune et jolie femme me tient singulierement au
+ coeur; je l'avoue que je n'aime point mademoiselle sa soeur.
+ Comment! avoir a craindre pour les jours d'une si charmante soeur,
+ et n'en pas perdre un grain de gaite; elle me met en colere."
+
+ Here is a noble resentment thrown away! Really I think this
+ _mystification_ of Clare's a little wicked, although laughable. I am
+ just now surrounded by babes. Alba is scratching and crowing, William
+ is amusing himself with wrapping a shawl round him, and Miss Clara
+ staring at the fire.... Adieu, dearest love. I want to say again, that
+ you may fully answer me, how very, _very_ anxious I am to know the
+ whole extent of your present difficulties and pursuits; and remember
+ also that if this _post obit_ is to be a long business, Alba must go
+ before it is finished. Willy is just going to bed. When I ask him
+ where you are, he makes me a long speech that I do not understand. But
+ I know my own one, that you are away, and I wish that you were with
+ me. Come soon, my own only love.--Your affectionate girl,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+ _P.S._--What of _Frankenstein_? and your own poem--have you fixed on a
+ name? Give my love to Godwin when Mrs. Godwin is not by, or you must
+ give it her, and I do not love her.
+
+
+ _5th October 1817._
+
+ ... How happy I shall be, my own dear love, to see you again. Your
+ last was so very, very short a visit; and after you were gone I
+ thought of so many things I had to say to you, and had no time to say.
+ Come Tuesday, dearest, and let us enjoy some of each other's company;
+ come and see your sweet babes and the little Commodore;[29] she is
+ lively and an uncommonly interesting child. I never see her without
+ thinking of the expressions in my mother's letters concerning Fanny.
+ If a mother's eyes were not partial, she seemed like this Alba. She
+ mentions her intelligent eyes and great vivacity; but this is a
+ melancholy subject.
+
+But Shelley's enforced absences became more and more frequent; brief
+visits to his home were all that he could snatch. As the desire to escape
+grew stronger, the fair prospect only seemed to recede. New complications
+appeared in the shape of Harriet's creditors, who pressed hard on Shelley
+for a settlement of their hitherto unknown and unsuspected claims. So
+perilous with regard to them was his position that Mary herself was fain
+to caution him to stay away and out of sight for fear of arrest. It was
+almost more than she could do to keep up the mask of cheerfulness, yet her
+letters of counsel and encouragement were her husband's mainstay.
+
+ "Dearest and best of living beings," he wrote in October, "how much do
+ your letters console me when I am away from you. Your letter to-day
+ gave me the greatest delight; so soothing, so powerful and quiet are
+ your expressions, that it is almost like folding you to my heart....
+ My own Mary, would it not be better for you to come to London at once?
+ I think we could quite as easily do something with the house if you
+ were in London--that is to say, all of you--as in the country."
+
+The next two letters were written in much depression. She could not get up
+her strength; she dared not indulge in the hope of going abroad, for she
+realised, as Shelley could not do, how little money they would have and
+how much they already owed. Their income, and more, went in supporting and
+paying for other people, and left them nothing to live on! Clare was
+unsettled, unhappy, and petulant. Godwin, ignorant like the rest of the
+world of her story and her present situation, unaware of Shelley's
+proposed move, and certain to oppose it with the energy of despair when he
+heard of it, was an impending visitor.
+
+ _16th October 1817._
+
+ So you do not come to-night love, nor any night; you are always away,
+ and this absence is long and becomes each day more dreary. Poor
+ Curran! so he is dead, and a sod on his breast, as four years ago I
+ heard him prophesy would be the case within that year.
+
+ Nothing is done, you say in your letter, and indeed I do not expect
+ anything will be done these many months. This, if you continued well,
+ would not give me so much pain, except on Alba's account. If she were
+ with her father, I could wait patiently, but the thought of what may
+ come "between the cup and the lip"--between now and her arrival at
+ Venice--is a heavy burthen on my soul. He may change his mind, or go
+ to Greece, or to the devil; and then what happens?
+
+ My dearest Shelley, be not, I entreat you, too self-negligent; yet
+ what can you do? If you were here, you might retort that question upon
+ me; but when I write to you I indulge false hopes of some miraculous
+ answer springing up in the interval. Does not Longdill[30] treat you
+ ill? he makes out long bills and does nothing. You say nothing of the
+ late arrest, and what may be the consequences, and may they not detain
+ you? and may you not be detained many months? for Godwin must not be
+ left unprovided. All these things make me run over the months, and
+ know not where to put my finger and say--during this year your Italian
+ journey shall commence. Yet when I say that it is on Alba's account
+ that I am anxious, this is only when you are away, and with too much
+ faith I believe you to be well. When I see you, drooping and languid,
+ in pain, and unable to enjoy life, then on your account I ardently
+ wish for bright skies and Italian sun.
+
+ You will have received, I hope, the manuscript that I sent yesterday
+ in a parcel to Hookham. I am glad to hear that the printing goes on
+ well; bring down all that you can with you.
+
+ If we were free and had no anxiety, what delight would Godwin's visit
+ give me; as it is, I fear that it will make me dreadfully miserable.
+ Cannot you come with him? By the way you write I hardly expect you
+ this week, but is it really so?
+
+ I think Alba's remaining here exceedingly dangerous, yet I do not see
+ what is to be done. Your babes are well. Clara already replies to her
+ nurse's caresses by smiles, and Willy kisses her with great
+ tenderness.--Your affectionate
+
+ MARY.
+
+ _P.S._--I wish you would purchase a gown for Milly,[31] with a little
+ note with it from Marianne,[32] that it may appear to come from her.
+ You can get one, I should think, for 12s. or 14s.; but it must be
+ _stout_; such a kind of one as we gave to the servant at Bath.
+
+ Willy has just said good-night to me; he kisses the paper and says
+ good-night to you. Clara is asleep.
+
+
+ MARLOW, _Saturday, 18th October 1817_.
+
+ Mr. Wright has called here to-day, my dearest Shelley, and wished to
+ see you. I can hardly have any doubt that his business is of the same
+ nature as that which made him call last week. You will judge, but it
+ appears to me that an arrest on Monday will follow your arrival on
+ Sunday.
+
+ My love, you ought not to come down. A long, long week has passed, and
+ when at length I am allowed to expect you, I am obliged to tell you
+ not to come. This is very cruel. You may easily judge that I am not
+ happy; my spirits sink during this continued absence. Godwin, too,
+ will come down; he will talk as if we meant to stay here; and I
+ must--must I?--tell fifty prevarications or direct _lies_. When I
+ thought that you would be here also, I knew that your presence would
+ lead to general conversation; but Clare will absent herself. We shall
+ be alone, and he will talk of your private affairs. I am sure that I
+ shall never be able to support it.
+
+ And when is this to end? Italy appears to me farther off than ever,
+ and the idea of it never enters my mind but Godwin enters also, and
+ makes it lie heavy at my heart. Had you not better speak? you might
+ relieve me from a heavy burden. Surely he cannot be blind to the many
+ heavy reasons that urge us. Your health, the indispensable one, if
+ every other were away. I assure you that if my Father said, "Yes, you
+ must go; do what you can for me; I know that you will do all you can;"
+ I should, far from writing so melancholy a letter, prepare everything
+ with a light heart; arrange our affairs here; and come up to town, to
+ await patiently the effect of your efforts. I know not whether it is
+ early habit or affection, but the idea of his silent quiet
+ disapprobation makes me weep as it did in the days of my childhood.
+
+ I shall not see you to-morrow. God knows when I shall see you! Clare
+ is for ever wearying with her idle and childish complaints. Can you
+ not send me some consolation?--Ever your affectionate
+
+ MARY.
+
+The fears of an arrest were not realised. Early in November Shelley came
+for three days to Marlow, after which Mary went up to stay with him in
+London.
+
+During this fortnight's visit the question of renewed intercourse with
+Isabel Booth was practically decided, and decided against Mary. She had
+written on the 4th of November to Mr. Baxter inviting Christy to come on a
+visit. Subsequently a plan was started for Isabel Booth's accompanying
+the Shelleys in their Italian trip,--they little dreaming that when they
+left England it would be for the last time.
+
+Apparently Mr. Baxter made some effort to bring Mr. Booth round to his way
+of thinking. The two passed an evening with the Shelleys at their
+lodgings. But it availed nothing, and in the end poor Mr. Baxter was
+driven himself to write to Shelley, breaking off the acquaintance. The
+letter was written much against the grain, and contrary to the convictions
+of the writer, who seems to have been much put to it to account for his
+action, the true grounds for which he could not bring himself to give.
+Shelley, however, was not slow to divine the real instigator in the
+affair, and wrote back a letter which, by its temperance, simplicity, and
+dignity, must have pricked Baxter to the heart. Mary added a playful
+postscript, showing that she still clung to hope--
+
+ MY DEAR SIR--You see I prophesied well three months ago, when you were
+ here. I then said that I was sure Mr. Booth was averse to our
+ intercourse, and would find some means to break it off. I wish I had
+ you by the fire here in my little study, and it might be "double,
+ double, toil and trouble," but I could quickly convince you that your
+ girls are not below me in station, and that, in fact, I am the fittest
+ companion for them in the world, but I postpone the argument until I
+ see you, for I know (pardon me) that _viva voce_ is all in all with
+ you.
+
+Two or three times more Mary wrote to Isabel, but the correspondence
+dropped and the friends met no more for many years.
+
+The preparations for their migration extended over two or three months
+more. During January Shelley suffered much from the renewal of an attack
+of ophthalmia, originally caught while visiting the poor people at Marlow.
+The house there was finally sold, and on the 10th of February they quitted
+it and went up to London. Their final departure from England did not take
+place until March. They made the most of their time of waiting, seeing as
+much of their friends and of objects of interest as circumstances allowed.
+
+ _Journal, Thursday, February 12_ (Mary).--Go to the Indian Library and
+ the Panorama of Rome. On Friday, 13th, spend the morning at the
+ British Museum looking at the Elgin marbles. On Saturday, 14th, go to
+ Hunt's. Clare and Shelley go to the opera. On Sunday, 15th, Mr.
+ Bransen, Peacock, and Hogg dine with us.
+
+ _Wednesday, February 18._--Spend the day at Hunt's. On Thursday, 19th,
+ dine at Horace Smith's, and copy Shelley's Eclogue. On Friday, 20th,
+ copy Shelley's critique on _Rhododaphne_. Go to the Apollonicon with
+ Shelley. On Saturday, 21st, copy Shelley's critique, and go to the
+ opera in the evening. Spend Sunday at Hunt's. On Monday, 23d February,
+ finish copying Shelley's critique, and go to the play in the
+ evening--_The Bride of Abydos_. On Tuesday go to the opera--_Figaro_.
+ On Wednesday Hunt dines with us. Shelley is not well.
+
+ _Sunday, March 1._--Read Montaigne. Spend the evening at Hunt's. On
+ Monday, 2d, Shelley calls on Mr. Baxter. Isabel Booth is arrived, but
+ neither comes nor sends. Go to the play in the evening with Hunt and
+ Marianne, and see a new comedy damned. On Thursday, 5th, Papa calls,
+ and Clare visits Mrs. Godwin. On Sunday, 8th, we dine at Hunt's, and
+ meet Mr. Novello. Music.
+
+ _Monday, March 9._--Christening the children.
+
+This was doubtless a measure of precaution, lest the omission of any such
+ceremony might in some future time operate as a civil disadvantage towards
+the children. They received the names of William, Clara Everina, and Clara
+Allegra.
+
+ _Tuesday, March 10._--Packing. Hunt and Marianne spend the day with
+ us. Mary Lamb calls. Papa in the evening. Our adieus.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 11._--Travel to Dover.
+
+ _Thursday, March 12._--France. Discussion of whether we should cross.
+ Our passage is rough; a sick lady is frightened and says the Lord's
+ Prayer. We arrive at Calais for the third time.
+
+Mary little thought how long it would be before she saw the English shores
+again, nor that, when she returned, it would be alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+MARCH 1818-JUNE 1819
+
+
+The external events of the four Italian years have been repeatedly told
+and profusely commented on by Shelley's various biographers. Summed up,
+they are the history of a long strife between the intellectual and
+creative stimulus of lovely scenes and immortal works of art on the one
+hand, and the wearing friction of vexatious outward events and crushing
+afflictions on the other. For Shelley they were a period of rapid, of
+exotic, mental growth and development, interspersed with intervals of
+exhaustion and depression, of restlessness, or unnatural calm. For Mary
+they were years of courageous effort, of heroic resistance to overpowering
+odds. She endured, and she overcame; but some victories are obtained at
+such cost as to be at the time scarcely distinguishable from defeats, and
+the story of hers survives in no one act or work of her own, but in the
+_Cenci_, _Prometheus Unbound_, _Epipsychidion_, and _Adonais_.
+
+The travellers proceeded, _via_ Lyons and Chambery, to Milan, whence
+Shelley and Mary made an expedition to Como in search of a house. After
+looking at several,--one "beautifully situated, but too small," another
+"out of repair, with an excellent garden, but full of serpents," a third
+which seemed promising, but which they failed to get,--they appear to have
+given up the scheme altogether, and to have returned to Milan. For the
+next week they were in frequent correspondence with Byron on the subject
+of Allegra. This had to be carried on entirely by Shelley, as Byron
+refused all communication with Clare, and undertook to provide for his
+child on the sole condition that, from the day it left her, its mother
+entirely relinquished it, and never saw it again.
+
+This appeared to Shelley cruelly and needlessly harsh. His own paternal
+heart was still bleeding from fresh wounds, and although, as he again
+pointed out, his interest in the matter was entirely on the opposite side
+to Clare's, he pleaded her cause with earnestness. He did not touch on the
+question of Byron's attitude towards Clare herself, he contended only for
+the mother and child, in letters as remarkable for their simple good sense
+as for their perfect delicacy and courtesy of expression, and every line
+of which is inspired with the unselfish ardour of a heart full of love.
+
+Poor Clare herself was dreadfully unhappy. Any illusion she may ever have
+had about Byron had long been over, but she had possibly not realised
+before coming to Italy the perfect horror he had of seeing her; an event,
+as he told his friends the Hoppners, which would make it necessary for him
+instantly to quit Venice. The reports about his present mode of life,
+which, even at Milan did not fail to reach them, were, to say the least,
+not encouraging; and from a later letter of Shelley's it would seem that
+he warned Clare now, at the last minute, to pause and reflect before she
+sent Allegra away to such a father. She, however, was determined that till
+seven years old, at least, the child should be with one or other of its
+parents, and Byron would only consent to be that one on condition that it
+grew up in ignorance of its mother. It appears to have been assumed by all
+parties that, in refusing to hand Allegra altogether over to her father,
+they would be sacrificing for her the prospect of a brilliant position and
+fortune. Even supposing that this had been so, it is impossible to think
+that such a consideration would have weighed, at any rate with the
+Shelleys, but for the impossibility of keeping Clare's secret if Allegra
+remained with them, and the constant danger of worse scandal to which her
+unexplained presence must expose them. Clare, distracted with grief as she
+was, yet dreaded discovery acutely, and firmly believed she was acting for
+Allegra's best interests in parting from her.
+
+It ended in the little girl's being sent to Venice on the 28th of April in
+the care of Elise, the Swiss nurse, with whom Mary Shelley, for Allegra's
+sake, consented to part, though she valued her very much, but who, not
+long afterwards, returned to her.
+
+As soon as they had gone, the Shelleys and Clare left Milan; and
+travelling leisurely through Parma, Modena, Bologna, and Pisa (where a
+letter from Elise reached them), they arrived on the 9th of May at
+Leghorn. Here they made the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. Gisborne. The
+lady, formerly Mrs. Reveley, had been an intimate friend of Mary
+Wollstonecraft's (when Mary Godwin), and had been so warmly admired by
+Godwin before his first marriage as to arouse some jealousy in Mr.
+Reveley. Indeed, his admiration had been returned by so warm a feeling of
+friendship on her part that Godwin was frankly surprised when on his
+pressing her, shortly after her widowhood, to become his second wife, she
+refused him point blank, nor, by all his eloquence, was to be persuaded to
+change her mind. A beautiful girl, and highly accomplished, she had
+married very young, and had one son of her first marriage, Henry Reveley,
+a young civil engineer, who was now living in Italy with her and her
+second husband.
+
+This Mr. Gisborne struck Mary as being the reverse of intelligent, and is
+described in Shelley's letters in most uncomplimentary terms. His
+appearance cannot certainly have been in his favour, but that there must
+have been more in him than met the eye seems also beyond a doubt, as, at a
+later time, Shelley addressed to him some of his most interesting and most
+intimate letters.
+
+To Mrs. Gisborne they bore a letter of introduction from Godwin, and it
+was not long before her acquaintance with Mrs. Shelley ripened into
+friendship. "Reserved, yet with easy manners;" so Mary described her at
+their first meeting. On the next day the two had a long conversation about
+Mary's father and mother. Of her mother, indeed, Mary learned more from
+Mrs. Gisborne than from any one else. She wrote her father an immediate
+account of these first interviews, and his answer is unusually
+demonstrative in expression.
+
+ I received last Friday a delightful letter from you. I was extremely
+ gratified by your account of Mrs. Gisborne. I have not seen her, I
+ believe, these twenty years; I think not since she was Mrs. Gisborne;
+ and yet by your description she is still a delightful woman. How
+ inexpressibly pleasing it is to call back the recollection of years
+ long past, and especially when the recollection belongs to a person in
+ whom one deeply interested oneself, as I did in Mrs. Reveley. I can
+ hardly hope for so great a pleasure as it would be to me to see her
+ again.
+
+At the Bagni di Lucca, where they settled themselves for a time, Mary
+heard from her father of the review of _Frankenstein_ in the _Quarterly_.
+Peacock had reported it to be unfavourable, so it was probably a relief
+to find that the reviewers "did not pretend to find anything blasphemous
+in the story."
+
+ They say that the _gentleman_ who has written the book is a _man of
+ talents_, but that he employs his powers in a way disagreeable to
+ them.
+
+All this, however, tended to keep Mary's old ardour alive. She never was
+more strongly impelled to write than at this time; she felt her powers
+fresh and strong within her; all she wanted was some motive, some
+suggestion to guide her in the choice of a subject. While at Leghorn
+Shelley had come upon a manuscript account, which Mary transcribed, of
+that terrible story of the _Cenci_ afterwards dramatised by himself. His
+first idea was that Mary should take it for the subject of a play. He was
+convinced that she had dramatic talent as a writer, and that he had none;
+two erroneous conclusions, as the sequel showed. But such an assurance
+from such a source could not but be flattering to Mary's ambition, and
+stimulating to her innate love of literary work. During all the early part
+of their time in Italy their thoughts were busy with some subject for
+Mary's tragedy. One proposed and strongly urged by Shelley was _Charles
+the First_. It was partially carried out by himself before his death, and
+perhaps occurred to him now in connection with a suggestion of Godwin's
+for a book very different in scope and character, and far better suited to
+Mary's genius than the drama. It would have been a series of _Lives of the
+Commonwealth's Men_; "our calumniated Republicans," as Shelley calls them.
+
+She was immensely attracted by the idea, but was forced to abandon it at
+the time, for lack of the necessary books of reference. But Shelley, who
+believed her powers to be of the highest order, was as eager as she
+herself could be for her to undertake original work of some kind, and was
+constantly inciting her to effort in this direction.
+
+More than two months were spent at the Bagni di Lucca--reading, writing,
+riding, and enjoying to the full the balmy Italian skies. Shelley, in whom
+the creative mood was more or less dormant, and who "despaired of
+providing anything original," translated the _Symposium_ of Plato, partly
+as an exercise, partly to "give Mary some idea of the manners and feelings
+of the Athenians, so different on many subjects from that of any other
+community that ever existed." Together they studied Italian, and Shelley
+reported Mary's progress to her father.
+
+ Mary has just finished Ariosto with me, and indeed has attained a very
+ competent knowledge of Italian. She is now reading Livy.
+
+She also transcribed his translation of the _Symposium_, and his Eclogue
+_Rosalind and Helen_, which, begun at Marlow, had been thrown aside till
+she found it and persuaded him to complete it.
+
+Meanwhile Clare hungered and thirsted for a sight of Allegra, of whom she
+heard occasionally from Elise, and who was not now under Byron's roof, but
+living, by his permission, with Mrs. Hoppner, wife of the British Consul
+at Venice, who had volunteered to take temporary charge of her. Her
+distress moved Shelley to so much commiseration that he resolved or
+consented to do what must have been supremely disagreeable to him. He went
+himself to Venice, hoping by a personal interview to modify in some degree
+Byron's inexorable resolution. Clare accompanied him, unknown, of course,
+to Byron. They started on the 17th of August. On that day Mary wrote the
+following letter to Miss Gisborne--
+
+ MRS. SHELLEY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ BAGNI DI LUCCA, _17th August 1818_.
+
+ MY DEAR MADAM--It gave me great pleasure to receive your letter after
+ so long a silence, when I had begun to conjecture a thousand reasons
+ for it, and among others illness, in which I was half right. Indeed, I
+ am much concerned to hear of Mr. R.'s attacks, and sincerely hope that
+ nothing will retard his speedy recovery. His illness gives me a slight
+ hope that you might now be induced to come to the baths, if it were
+ even to try the effect of the hot baths. You would find the weather
+ cool; for we already feel in this part of the world that the year is
+ declining, by the cold mornings and evenings. I have another selfish
+ reason to wish that you would come, which I have a great mind not to
+ mention, yet I will not omit it, as it might induce you. Shelley and
+ Clare are gone; they went to-day to Venice on important business; and
+ I am left to take care of the house. Now, if all of you, or any of
+ you, would come and cheer my solitude, it would be exceedingly kind. I
+ daresay you would find many of your friends here; among the rest there
+ is the Signora Felichi, whom I believe you knew at Pisa. Shelley and I
+ have ridden almost every evening. Clare did the same at first, but she
+ has been unlucky, and once fell from her horse, and hurt her knee so
+ as to knock her up for some time. It is the fashion here for all the
+ English to ride, and it is very pleasant on these fine evenings, when
+ we set out at sunset and are lighted home by Venus, Jupiter, and
+ Diana, who kindly lend us their light after the sleepy Apollo is gone
+ to bed. The road which we frequent is raised somewhat above, and
+ overlooks the river, affording some very fine points of view amongst
+ these woody mountains.
+
+ Still, we know no one; we speak to one or two people at the Casino,
+ and that is all; we live in our studious way, going on with Tasso,
+ whom I like, but who, now I have read more than half his poem, I do
+ not know that I like half so well as Ariosto. Shelley translated the
+ _Symposium_ in ten days. It is a most beautiful piece of writing. I
+ think you will be delighted with it. It is true that in many
+ particulars it shocks our present manners; but no one can be a reader
+ of the works of antiquity unless they can transport themselves from
+ these to other times, and judge, not by our, but their morality.
+
+ Shelley is tolerably well in health; the hot weather has done him
+ good. We have been in high debate--nor have we come to any
+ conclusion--concerning the land or sea journey to Naples. We have been
+ thinking that when we want to go, although the equinox will be past,
+ yet the equinoctial winds will hardly have spent themselves; and I
+ cannot express to you how I fear a storm at sea with two such young
+ children as William and Clara. Do you know the periods when the
+ Mediterranean is troubled, and when the wintry halcyon days come?
+ However, it may be we shall see you before we proceed southward.
+
+ We have been reading Eustace's _Tour through Italy_; I do not wonder
+ the Italians reprinted it. Among other select specimens of his way of
+ thinking, he says that the Romans did not derive their arts and
+ learning from the Greeks; that Italian ladies are chaste, and the
+ lazzaroni honest and industrious; and that, as to assassination and
+ highway robbery in Italy, it is all a calumny--no such things were
+ ever heard of. Italy was the garden of Eden, and all the Italians
+ Adams and Eves, until the blasts of hell (_i.e._ the French--for by
+ that polite name he designates them) came. By the bye, an Italian
+ servant stabbed an English one here--it was thought dangerously at
+ first, but the man is doing better.
+
+ I have scribbled a long letter, and I daresay you have long wished to
+ be at the end of it. Well, now you are; so my dear Mrs. Gisborne, with
+ best remembrances, yours, obliged and affectionately,
+
+ MARY W. SHELLEY.
+
+From Florence, where he arrived on the 20th, Shelley wrote to Mary,
+telling her that Clare had changed her intention of going in person to
+Venice, and had decided on the more politic course of remaining herself at
+Fusina or Padua, while Shelley went on to see Byron.
+
+ "Well, my dearest Mary," he went on, "are you very lonely? Tell me
+ truth, my sweetest, do you ever cry? I shall hear from you once at
+ Venice and once on my return here. If you love me, you will keep up
+ your spirits; and at all events tell me truth about it, for I assure
+ you I am not of a disposition to be flattered by your sorrow, though I
+ should be by your cheerfulness, and above all by seeing such fruits of
+ my absence as was produced when I was at Geneva."
+
+It was during Shelley's absence with Byron on their voyage round the lake
+of Geneva that Mary had begun to write _Frankenstein_. But on the day when
+she received this letter she was very uneasy about her little girl, who
+was seriously unwell from the heat. On writing to Shelley she told him of
+this; and, from his answer, one may infer that she had suggested the
+advisability of taking the child to Venice for medical advice.
+
+ PADUA, MEZZOGIORNO.
+
+ MY BEST MARY--I found at Mount Selica a favourable opportunity for
+ going to Venice, when I shall try to make some arrangement for you and
+ little Ca to come for some days, and shall meet you, if I do not write
+ anything in the meantime, at Padua on Thursday morning. Clare says she
+ is obliged to come to see the Medico, whom we missed this morning, and
+ who has appointed as the only hour at which he can be at leisure, 8
+ o'clock in the morning. You must, therefore, arrange matters so that
+ you should come to the Stella d'Oro a little before that hour, a thing
+ only to be accomplished by setting out at half-past 3 in the morning.
+ You will by this means arrive at Venice very early in the day, and
+ avoid the heat, which might be bad for the babe, and take the time
+ when she would at least sleep great part of the time. Clare will
+ return with the return carriage, and I shall meet you, or send to you,
+ at Padua. Meanwhile, remember _Charles the First_, and do you be
+ prepared to bring at least some of _Mirra_ translated; bring the book
+ also with you, and the sheets of _Prometheus Unbound_, which you will
+ find numbered from 1 to 26 on the table of the Pavilion. My poor
+ little Clara; how is she to-day? Indeed, I am somewhat uneasy about
+ her; and though I feel secure there is no danger, it would be very
+ comfortable to have some reasonable person's opinion about her. The
+ Medico at Padua is certainly a man in great practice; but I confess he
+ does not satisfy me. Am I not like a wild swan, to be gone so
+ suddenly? But, in fact, to set off alone to Venice required an
+ exertion. I felt myself capable of making it, and I knew that you
+ desired it.... Adieu, my dearest love. Remember, remember _Charles the
+ First_ and _Mirra_. I have been already imagining how you will conduct
+ some scenes. The second volume of _St. Leon_ begins with this proud
+ and true sentiment--
+
+ "There is nothing which the human mind can conceive which it may not
+ execute." Shakespeare was only a human being. Adieu till
+ Thursday.--Your ever affectionate,
+
+ P. B. S.
+
+His next letter, however, announced yet another revolution in Clare's
+plans. Her heart failed her at the idea of remaining to endure her
+suspense all alone in a strange place; and so, braving the possible
+consequences of Byron's discovering her move before he was informed of it,
+she went on with Shelley to Venice, and, the morning after their arrival,
+proceeded to Mr. Hoppner's house. Here she was kindly welcomed by him and
+his wife, a pretty Swiss woman, with a sympathetic motherly heart, who
+knew all about her and Allegra. They insisted, too, on Shelley's staying
+with them, and he was nothing loth to accept the offer, for Byron's circle
+would not have suited him at all.
+
+He was pleased with his hostess, something in whose appearance reminded
+him of Mary. "She has hazel eyes and sweet looks, rather Maryish," he
+wrote. And in another letter he described her as
+
+ So good, so beautiful, so angelically mild that, were she wise too,
+ she would be quite a Mary. But she is not very accomplished. Her eyes
+ are like a reflection of yours; her manners are like yours when you
+ know and like a person.
+
+He could enjoy no pleasure without longing for Mary to share it, and from
+the moment he reached Venice he was planning impatiently for her to follow
+him, to experience with him the strange emotions aroused by the first
+sight of the wonderful city, and to make acquaintance with his new
+friends.
+
+He lost no time in calling on Byron, who gave him a very friendly
+reception. Shelley's intention on leaving Lucca was to go with his family
+to Florence, and the plan he urged on Byron was that Allegra should come
+to spend some time there with her mother. To this Byron objected, as
+likely to raise comment, and as a reopening of the whole question. He was,
+however, in an affable mood, and not indisposed to meet Shelley halfway.
+He had heard of Clare's being at Padua, but nothing of her subsequent
+change of plan; and, assuming that the whole party were staying there, he
+offered to send Allegra as far as that, on a week's visit. Finding that
+things were not as he supposed, and that Mrs. Shelley was likely to come
+presently to Venice, he proposed to lend them for some time a villa which
+he rented at Este, and to let Allegra stay with them. The offer was
+promptly and gratefully accepted by Shelley. The fact of Clare's presence
+in Venice had, perforce, to be kept dark; for that there was no help; the
+great thing was to get her and Allegra away as soon as possible. He sent
+directions to Mary to pack up at once and travel with the least possible
+delay to Este. There he would meet her with Clare, Allegra, and Elise, who
+were to be established, with Mary's little ones, at Byron's villa, Casa
+Cappucini, while she and he proceeded to Venice.
+
+When the letter came, Mary had the Gisbornes staying with her on a visit.
+For that reason, and on account of little Clara's indisposition, the
+summons to depart so suddenly can hardly have been welcome; she obeyed it,
+however, and left the Bagni di Lucca on the 31st of August. Owing to
+delays about the passport, her journey took rather longer than they had
+expected. The intense heat of the weather, added to the fatigue of
+travelling and probably change of diet, seriously affected the poor baby,
+who, by the time they got to Este on 5th September, was dangerously ill.
+Shelley, who had been waiting for them impatiently, was also far from
+well, and their visit to Venice had to be deferred for more than a
+fortnight, during which Mary had time to hear enough of Venetian society
+to horrify and disgust her.
+
+ _Journal, Saturday, September 5._--Arrive at Este. Poor Clara is
+ dangerously ill. Shelley is very unwell, from taking poison in Italian
+ cakes. He writes his drama of _Prometheus_. Read seven cantos of
+ Dante. Begin to translate _A Cajo Graccho_ of Monti, and _Measure for
+ Measure_.
+
+ _Wednesday, September 16._--Read the _Filippo_ of Alfieri. Shelley and
+ Clare go to Padua. He is very ill from the effects of his poison.
+
+To Mrs. Gisborne she wrote as follows--
+
+ _September 1818._
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--I hasten to write to you to say that we have
+ arrived safe, and yet I can hardly call it safe, since the fatigue has
+ given my poor _Ca_ an attack of dysentery; and although she is now
+ somewhat recovered from that disorder, she is still in a frightful
+ state of weakness and fever, and is reduced to be so thin in this
+ short time that you would hardly know her again.
+
+ The physician of Este is a stupid fellow; but there is one come from
+ Padua, and who appears clever; so I hope under his care she will soon
+ get well, although we are still in great anxiety concerning her. I
+ found Mr. Shelley very anxious for our non-arrival, for, besides other
+ delays, we were detained a whole day at Florence for a signature to
+ our passport. The house at Este is exceedingly pleasant, with a large
+ garden and quantities of excellent fruit. I have not yet been to
+ Venice, and know not when I shall, since it depends upon the state of
+ Clara's health. I hope Mr. Reveley is quite recovered from his
+ illness, and I am sure the baths did him a great deal of good. So now
+ I suppose all your talk is how you will get to England. Shelley agrees
+ with me that you could live very well for your L200 per annum in
+ Marlow or some such town; and I am sure you would be much happier than
+ in Italy. How all the English dislike it! The Hoppners speak with the
+ greatest acrimony of the Italians, and Mr. Hoppner says that he was
+ actually driven from Italian society by the young men continually
+ asking him for money. Everything is saleable in Venice, even the wives
+ of the gentry, if you pay well. It appears indeed a most frightful
+ system of society. Well! when shall we see you again? Soon, I daresay.
+ I am so much hurried that you will be kind enough to excuse the
+ abruptness of this letter. I will write soon again, and in the
+ meantime write to me. Shelley and Clare desire the kindest
+ remembrances.--My dear Mrs. Gisborne, affectionately yours,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+ Casa Capuccini, Este.
+ Send our letters to this direction.
+
+No more of the journal was written till the 24th, and in the meantime
+great trouble had fallen on the writers. Shelley was impatient for Clara
+to be within reach of better medical advice, and anxious to get Mary to
+Venice. He went forward himself on the 22d, returning next day as far as
+Padua to meet Mary and Clara, with Clare, who, however, only came over to
+Padua to see the Medico. The baby was very ill, and was getting worse
+every hour, but they judged it best to press on. In their hurry they had
+forgotten their passport, and had some difficulty in getting past the
+_dogana_ in consequence. Shelley's impetuosity carried all obstacles
+before it, and the soldiers on duty had to give way. On reaching Venice
+Mary went straight with her sick child to the inn, while Shelley hurried
+for the doctor. It was too late. When he got back (without the medical
+man) he found Mary well-nigh beside herself with distress. Another doctor
+had already been summoned, but little Clara was dying, and in an hour all
+was over.
+
+This blow reduced Mary to "a kind of despair";--the expression is
+Shelley's. Mr. Hoppner, on hearing what had happened, insisted on taking
+them away at once from the inn to his house. Four days she spent in Venice
+after that, the first of which was a blank; of the second she merely
+records--
+
+ An idle day. Go to the Lido and see Albe there.
+
+After that she roused herself. There was Shelley to be comforted and
+supported, there was Byron to be interviewed. One of her objects in coming
+had been to try and persuade him after all to let Allegra stay. So she
+nerved herself to pay this visit, and to go about and see something of
+Venice with Shelley.
+
+ _Sunday, September 27._--Read fourth canto of _Childe Harold_. It
+ rains. Go to the Doge's Palace, Ponte dei Sospiri, etc. Go to the
+ Academy with Mr. and Mrs. Hoppner, and see some fine pictures. Call at
+ Lord Byron's and see the _Farmaretta_.
+
+ _Monday, September 28._--Go with Mrs. Hoppner and Cavaliere Mengaldo
+ to the Library. Shopping. In the evening Lord Byron calls.
+
+ _Tuesday, September 29._--Leave Venice, and arrive at Este at night.
+ Clare is gone with the children to Padua.
+
+ _Wednesday, September 30._--The chicks return. Transcribe _Mazeppa_.
+ Go to the opera in the evening.
+
+A quiet, sad fortnight at Este followed. An idle one it was not, for
+Shelley not only wrote _Julian and Maddalo_, but worked on portions of
+his drama of _Prometheus Unbound_, the idea of which had haunted him ever
+since he came to Italy. Clare, for the time, was happy with her child.
+Mary read several plays of Shakespeare and the lives of Alfieri and Tasso
+in Italian.
+
+On the 12th of October she arrived once more at Venice with Shelley. She
+passed the greater part of her time there with the Hoppners, who were
+exceedingly friendly. Shelley visited Byron several times, probably trying
+to get an extension of leave for Allegra. In this, however, he must have
+failed, as on the 24th he went to Este to fetch her, returning with her on
+the 29th. Having restored the poor little girl to the Hoppners' care, he
+and Mary went once more to Este, but this time only to prepare for
+departure. On the 5th of November the whole party, including Elise (who
+was not retained for Allegra's service), left the Villa Capuccini and
+travelled by slow stages to Rome.
+
+No further allusion to her recent bereavement is to be found in Mary's
+journal. She attempted to behave like the Stoic her father had wished her
+to be.[33] She had written to him of her affliction, and received the
+following answer from the philosopher--
+
+ SKINNER STREET, _27th October 1818_.
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I sincerely sympathise with you in the affliction which
+ forms the subject of your letter, and which I may consider as the
+ first severe trial of your constancy and the firmness of your temper
+ that has occurred to you in the course of your life; you should,
+ however, recollect that it is only persons of a very ordinary sort,
+ and of a pusillanimous disposition, that sink long under a calamity of
+ this nature. I assure you such a recollection will be of great use to
+ you. We seldom indulge long in depression and mourning except when we
+ think secretly that there is something very refined in it, and that it
+ does us honour.
+
+Such a homily, at such a time, must have made Mary feel like a person of a
+very ordinary sort indeed. But she strove, only too hard, to carry out her
+father's principles; for, by doing violence to her sensitive nature, she
+might crush but could not kill it. The passionate impulses of her mother
+were curiously mated in her with her father's reflective temperament; and
+the noble courage which she inherited from Mary Wollstonecraft went hand
+in hand with somewhat of Godwin's constitutional shrinking from any
+manifestation of emotion. And the effect of determinate, excessive
+self-restraint on a heart like hers was to render the crushed feelings
+morbid in their acuteness, and to throw on her spirits a load of endurance
+which was borne, indeed, but at ruinous cost, and operated largely, among
+other causes, to make her seem cold when she was really suffering.
+
+At such times it was not altogether well for her that she was Shelley's
+companion. For, when his health and spirits were good, he craved and
+demanded companionship,--personal, intellectual, playful,--companionship
+of all sorts; but when they ebbed, when his vitality was low, when the
+simultaneous exaltation of conception and labour of realisation--a
+tremendous expenditure of force--was over, and left him shattered, shaken,
+surprised at himself like one who in a dream falls from a height and
+awakens with the shock,--tired, and yet dull,--then the one panacea for
+him was animal spirits in some congenial acquaintance; whether a friend or
+a previous stranger mattered little, provided the personality was
+congenial and the spirits buoyant. Mary did her best, bravely and nobly.
+But the loss of a child was one thing to Shelley, another thing to her.
+She strove to overcome the low spirits from which she suffered. But
+endurance, though more heroic than spontaneous cheerfulness, is not to be
+compared with it in its benign effect on other people; nay, it may even
+have a depressing effect when a yielding to emotion "of the ordinary sort"
+may not. All these truths, however, do not become evident at once; like
+other life-experience they have to be spelled out by slow and painful
+degrees.
+
+To seek for respite from grief or care in intellectual culture and the
+acquisition of knowledge was instinctive and habitual both in Shelley and
+in Mary. They visited Ferrara and Bologna, then travelled by a winding
+road among the Apennines to Terni, where they saw the celebrated
+waterfall--
+
+ It put me in mind of Sappho leaping from a rock, and her form
+ vanishing as in the shape of a swan in the distance.
+
+ _Friday, November 20._--We travel all day the Campagna di Roma--a
+ perfect solitude, yet picturesque, and relieved by shady dells. We see
+ an immense hawk sailing in the air for prey. Enter Rome. A rainy
+ evening. Doganas and cheating innkeepers. We at length get settled in
+ a comfortable hotel.
+
+After one week in Rome, during which they visited as many of the wonders
+of the Eternal City as the time allowed, they journeyed on to Naples,
+reading Montaigne by the way.
+
+At Naples they remained for three months. Of their life there Mary's
+journal gives no account; she confines herself almost entirely to noting
+down the books they read, and one or two excursions. They lived in very
+great seclusion, greater than was good for them, but Shelley suffered much
+from ill-health, and not a little from its treatment by an unskilful
+physician. They read incessantly,--Livy, Dante, Sismondi, Winkelmann, the
+Georgics and Plutarch's _Lives_, _Gil Blas_, and _Corinne_. They left no
+beautiful or interesting scene unvisited; they ascended Vesuvius, and
+made excursions to Pompeii, Herculaneum, and Paestum.
+
+On the 8th of December Mary records--
+
+ Go on the sea with Shelley. Visit Capo Miseno, the Elysian Fields,
+ Avernus, Solfatara. The Bay of Baiae is beautiful, but we are
+ disappointed by the various places we visit.
+
+The impression of the scene, however, remained after the temporary
+disappointment had been forgotten, and she sketched it from memory many
+years later in the fanciful introduction to her romance of _The Last Man_,
+the story of which purports to be a tale deciphered from sibylline leaves,
+picked up in the caverns.
+
+Shelley, however, suffered from extreme depression, which, out of
+solicitous consideration for Mary, he disguised as much as possible under
+a mask of cheerfulness, insomuch that she never fully realised what he
+endured at this time until she read the mournful poems written at Naples,
+after he who wrote them had passed for ever out of sight.
+
+She blamed herself then for what seemed to her her blindness,--for having
+perhaps let slip opportunities of cheering him which she would have sold
+her soul to recall when it was too late. That _he_, at the time, felt in
+her no such want of sympathy or help is shown by his concluding words in
+the advertisement of _Rosalind and Helen_, and _Lines written among the
+Euganean Hills_, dated Naples, 20th December, where he says of certain
+lines "which image forth the sudden relief of a state of deep despondency
+by the radiant visions disclosed by the sudden burst of an Italian sunrise
+in autumn on the highest peak of those delightful mountains," that, if
+they were not erased, it was "at the request of a dear friend, with whom
+added years of intercourse only add to my apprehension of its value, and
+who would have had more right than any one to complain that she has not
+been able to extinguish in me the very power of delineating sadness."
+
+Much of this sadness was due to physical suffering, but external causes of
+anxiety and vexation were not wanting. One was the discovery of grave
+misconduct on the part of their Italian servant, Paolo. An engagement had
+been talked of between him and the Swiss nurse Elise, but the Shelleys,
+who thought highly of Elise and by no means highly of Paolo, tried to
+dissuade her from the idea. An illness of Elise's revealed the fact that
+an illicit connection had been formed. The Shelleys, greatly distressed,
+took the view that it would not do to throw Elise on the world without in
+some degree binding Paolo to do his duty towards her, and they had them
+married. How far this step was well-judged may be a matter of opinion.
+Elise was already a mother when she entered the Shelleys service. Whether
+a woman already a mother was likely to do better for being bound for life
+to a man whom they "knew to be a rascal" may reasonably be doubted even by
+those who hold the marriage-tie, as such, in higher honour than the
+Shelleys did. But whether the action was mistaken or not, it was prompted
+by the sincerest solicitude for Elise's welfare, a solicitude to be
+repaid, at no distant date, by the basest ingratitude. Meanwhile Mary lost
+her nurse, and, it may be assumed, a valuable one; for any one who studies
+the history of this and the preceding years must see all three of the poor
+doomed children throve as long as Elise was in charge of them.
+
+Clare was ailing, and anxious too; how could it be otherwise? Just before
+Allegra's third birthday, Mary received a letter from Mrs. Hoppner which
+was anything but reassuring. It gave an unsatisfactory account of the
+child, who did not thrive in the climate of Venice, and a still more
+unsatisfactory account of Byron.
+
+ Il faut esperer qu'elle se changera pour son mieux quand il ne sera
+ plus si froid; mais je crois toujours que c'est tres malheureux que
+ Miss Clairmont oblige cette enfant de vivre a Venise, dont le climat
+ est nuisible en tout au physique de la petite, et vraiment, pour ce
+ que fera son pere, je le trouve un peu triste d'y sacrifier l'enfant.
+ My Lord continue de vivre dans une debauche affreuse qui tot ou tard
+ le menera a sa ruine....
+
+ Quant a moi, je voudrois faire tout ce qui est en mon pouvoir pour
+ cette enfant, que je voudrois bien volontiers rendre aussi heureuse
+ que possible le temps qu'elle restera avec nous; car je crains
+ qu'apres elle devra toujours vivre avec des etrangers, indifferents a
+ son sort. My Lord bien certainement ne la rendra jamais plus a sa
+ mere; ainsi il n'y a rien de bon a esperer pour cette chere petite.
+
+This letter, if she saw it, may well have made Clare curse the day when
+she let Allegra go.
+
+Still, after they returned to Rome at the beginning of March, a brighter
+time set in.
+
+ _Journal, Friday, March 5._--After passing over the beautiful hills of
+ Albano, and traversing the Campagna, we arrive at the Holy City again,
+ and see the Coliseum again.
+
+ All that Athens ever brought forth wise,
+ All that Afric ever brought forth strange,
+ All that which Asia ever had of prize,
+ Was here to see. Oh, marvellous great change!
+ Rome living was the world's sole ornament;
+ And dead, is now the world's sole monument.
+
+ _Sunday, March 7._--Move to our lodgings. A rainy day. Visit the
+ Coliseum. Read the Bible.
+
+ _Monday, March 8._--Visit the Museum of the Vatican. Read the Bible.
+
+ _Tuesday, March 9._--Shelley and I go to the Villa Borghese. Drive
+ about Rome. Visit the Pantheon. Visit it again by moonlight, and see
+ the yellow rays fall through the roof upon the floor of the temple.
+ Visit the Coliseum.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 10._--Visit the Capitol, and see the most divine
+ statues.
+
+Not one of the party but was revived and invigorated by the beauty and
+overpowering interest of the surrounding scenes, and the delight of a
+lovely Italian spring. To Shelley it was life itself.
+
+ "The charm of the Roman climate," says Mrs. Shelley, "helped to clothe
+ his thoughts in greater beauty than they had ever worn before. And as
+ he wandered among the ruins, made one with nature in their decay, or
+ gazed on the Praxitelean shapes that throng the Vatican, the Capitol,
+ and the palaces of Rome, his soul imbibed forms of loveliness which
+ became a portion of itself."
+
+The visionary drama of _Prometheus Unbound_, which had haunted, yet eluded
+him so long, suddenly took life and shape, and stood before him, a vivid
+reality. During his first month at Rome he completed it in its original
+three-act form. The fourth act was an afterthought, and was added at a
+later date.
+
+For a short, enchanted time--his health renewed, the deadening years
+forgotten, his susceptibilities sharpened, not paralysed, by recent
+grief--he gave himself up to the vision of the realisation of his
+life-dream; the disappearance of evil from the earth.
+
+ "He believed," wrote Mary Shelley, "that mankind had only to will that
+ there should be no evil, and there would be none.... That man should
+ be so perfectionised as to be able to expel evil from his own nature,
+ and from the greater part of the creation was the cardinal point of
+ his system. And the subject he loved best to dwell on, was the image
+ of one warring with the Evil Principle, oppressed not only by it, but
+ by all, even the good, who were deluded into considering evil a
+ necessary portion of humanity. A victim full of fortitude and hope,
+ and the spirit of triumph emanating from a reliance in the ultimate
+ omnipotence of good."
+
+ "This poem," he himself says, "was chiefly written upon the
+ mountainous ruins of the Baths of Caracalla, among the flowers,
+ glades, and thickets of odoriferous blossoming trees, which are
+ extended in ever winding labyrinths upon its immense platforms and
+ dizzy arches suspended in the air. The bright blue sky of Rome, and
+ the effect of the vigorous awakening of spring in that divinest
+ climate, and the new life with which it drenches the spirits even to
+ intoxication, were the inspiration of this drama."[34]
+
+And while he wrought and wove the radiant web of his poem, Mary, excited
+to greatest enthusiasm by the treasures of sculpture at Rome, and infected
+by the atmosphere of art around her, took up again her favourite pursuit
+of drawing, which she had discontinued since going to Marlow, and worked
+at it many hours a day, sometimes all day. She was writing, too; a
+thoroughly congenial occupation, at once soothing and stimulating to her.
+She studied the Bible, with the keen fresh interest of one who comes new
+to it, and she read Livy and Montaigne.
+
+Little William was thriving, and growing more interesting every day. His
+beauty and promise and angelic sweetness made him the pet and darling of
+all who knew him, while to his parents he was a perpetual source of ever
+fresh and increasing delight. And his mother looked forward to the birth
+in autumn of another little one who might, in some measure, fill the place
+of her lost Clara.
+
+Clare, who, also, was in better health, was not behindhand in energy or
+industry. Music was her favourite pursuit; she took singing-lessons from a
+good master and worked hard.
+
+They led a somewhat less secluded life than at Naples, and at the house of
+Signora Dionizi, a Roman painter and authoress (described by Mary Shelley
+as "very old, very miserly, and very mean"), Mary and Clare, at any rate,
+saw a little of Italian society. For this, however, Shelley did not care,
+nor was he attracted by any of the few English with whom he came in
+contact. Yet he felt his solitude. In April, when the strain of his work
+was over, his spirits drooped, as usual; and he longed then for some
+_congenial distraction_, some human help to bear the burden of life till
+the moment of weakness should have passed. But the fount of inspiration,
+the source of temporary elation and strength, had not been exhausted by
+_Prometheus_.
+
+On the 22d of April Mary notes--
+
+ Visit the Palazzo Corunna, and see the picture of Beatrice Cenci.
+
+The interest in the old idea was revived in him; he became engrossed in
+the subject, and soon after his "lyrical drama" was done, he transferred
+himself to this other, completely different work. There was no talk, now,
+of passing it on to Mary, and indeed she may well have recoiled from the
+unmitigated horrors of the tale. But, though he dealt with it himself,
+Shelley still felt on unfamiliar ground, and, as he proceeded, he
+submitted what he wrote to Mary for her judgment and criticism; the only
+occasion on which he consulted her about any work of his during its
+progress towards completion.
+
+Late in April they made the acquaintance of one English (or rather, Irish)
+lady, who will always be gratefully remembered in connection with the
+Shelleys.
+
+This was Miss Curran, a daughter of the late Irish orator, who had been a
+friend of Godwin's, and to whose death Mary refers in one of her letters
+from Marlow.[35]
+
+Mary may, perhaps, have met her in Skinner Street; in any case, the old
+association was one link between them, and another was afforded by
+similarity in their present interests and occupations. Mary was very keen
+about her drawing and painting. Miss Curran had taste, and some skill,
+and was vigorously prosecuting her art-studies in Rome. Portrait painting
+was her especial line, and each of the Shelley party, at different times,
+sat to her; so that during the month of May they met almost daily, and
+became well acquainted.
+
+This new interest, together with the unwillingness to bring to an end a
+time at once so peaceful and so fruitful, caused them once and again to
+postpone their departure, originally fixed for the beginning of May. They
+stayed on longer than it is safe for English people to remain in Rome. Ah!
+why could no presentiment warn them of impending calamity? Could they,
+like the Scottish witch in the ballad, have seen the fatal winding-sheet
+creeping and clinging ever higher and higher round the wraith of their
+doomed child, they would have fled from the face of Death. But they had no
+such foreboding.
+
+Not a fortnight after his portrait had been taken by Miss Curran, William
+showed signs of illness. How it was that, knowing him to be so
+delicate,--having learned by bitterest experience the danger of southern
+heat to an English-born infant,--having, as early as April, suspected the
+Roman air of causing "weakness and depression, and even fever" to Shelley
+himself, how, after all this, they risked staying in Rome through May is
+hard to imagine.
+
+They were to pay for their delay with the best part of their lives.
+William sickened on the 25th, but had so far recovered by the 30th that
+his parents, though they saw they ought to leave Rome as soon as he was
+fit to travel, were in no immediate anxiety about him, and were making
+their summer plans quite in a leisurely way; Mary writing to ask Mrs.
+Gisborne to help them with some domestic arrangements, begging her to
+inquire about houses at Lucca or the Baths of Pisa, and to engage a
+servant for her.
+
+The journal for this and the following days runs--
+
+ _Sunday, May 30._--Read Livy, and _Persiles and Sigismunda_. Draw.
+ Spend the evening at Miss Curran's.
+
+ _Monday, May 31._--Read Livy, and _Persiles and Sigismunda_. Draw.
+ Walk in the evening.
+
+ _Tuesday, June 1._--Drawing lesson. Read Livy. Walk by the Tiber.
+ Spend the evening with Miss Curran.
+
+ _Wednesday, June 2._--See Mr. Vogel's pictures. William becomes very
+ ill in the evening.
+
+ _Thursday, June 3._--William is very ill, but gets better towards the
+ evening. Miss Curran calls.
+
+Mary took this opportunity of begging her friend to write for her to Mrs.
+Gisborne, telling her of the inevitable delay in their journey.
+
+ ROME, _Thursday, 3d June 1819_.
+
+ DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Mary tells me to write for her, for she is very
+ unwell, and also afflicted. Our poor little William is at present
+ very ill, and it will be impossible to quit Rome so soon as we
+ intended. She begs you, therefore, to forward the letters here, and
+ still to look for a servant for her, as she certainly intends coming
+ to Pisa. She will write to you a day or two before we set out.
+
+ William has a complaint of the stomach; but fortunately he is attended
+ by Mr. Bell, who is reckoned even in London one of the first English
+ surgeons.
+
+ I know you will be glad to hear that both Mary and Mr. Shelley would
+ be well in health were it not for the dreadful anxiety they now
+ suffer.
+
+ EMELIA CURRAN.
+
+Two days after, Mary herself wrote a few lines to Mrs. Gisborne.
+
+ _5th June 1819._
+
+ William is in the greatest danger. We do not quite despair, yet we
+ have the least possible reason to hope.
+
+ I will write as soon as any change takes place. The misery of these
+ hours is beyond calculation. The hopes of my life are bound up in
+ him.--Ever yours affectionately,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+ I am well, and so is Shelley, although he is more exhausted by
+ watching than I am. William is in a high fever.
+
+Sixty death-like hours did Shelley watch, without closing his eyes. Clare,
+her own troubles forgotten in this moment of mortal suspense, was a
+devoted nurse.
+
+As for Mary, her very life ebbed with William's, but as yet she bore up.
+There was no real hope from the first moment of the attack, but the poor
+child made a hard struggle for life. Two more days and nights of anguish
+and terror and deadly sinking of heart,--and then, in the blank page
+following _June 4_, the last date entered in the diary, are the words--
+
+ The journal ends here.--P. B. S.
+
+On Monday, the 7th of June, at noonday, William died.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+JUNE 1819-SEPTEMBER 1820
+
+
+It was not fifteen months since they had all left England; Shelley and
+Mary with the sweet, blue-eyed "Willmouse," and the pretty baby, Clara, so
+like her father; Clare and the "bluff, bright-eyed little Commodore,"
+Allegra; the Swiss nurse and English nursemaid; a large and lively party,
+in spite of cares and anxieties and sorrows to come. In one short,
+spiritless paragraph Mary, on the 4th of August, summed up such history as
+there was of the sad two months following on the blow which had left her
+childless.
+
+ _Journal, Wednesday, August 4, 1819, Leghorn_ (Mary).--I begin my
+ journal on Shelley's birthday. We have now lived five years together;
+ and if all the events of the five years were blotted out, I might be
+ happy; but to have won and then cruelly to have lost, the associations
+ of four years, is not an accident to which the human mind can bend
+ without much suffering.
+
+ Since I left home I have read several books of Livy, _Clarissa
+ Harlowe_, the _Spectator_, a few novels, and am now reading the Bible,
+ and Lucan's _Pharsalia_, and Dante. Shelley is to-day twenty-seven
+ years of age. Write; read Lucan and the Bible. Shelley writes the
+ _Cenci_, and reads Plutarch's _Lives_. The Gisbornes call in the
+ evening. Shelley reads _Paradise Lost_ to me. Read two cantos of the
+ _Purgatorio_.
+
+Three days after William's death, Shelley, Mary, and Clare had left Rome
+for Leghorn. Once more they were alone together--how different now from
+the three heedless young things who, just five years before, had set out
+to walk through France with a donkey!
+
+Shelley, then, a creature of feelings and theories, full of unbalanced
+impulses, vague aspirations and undeveloped powers; inexperienced in
+everything but uncomprehended pain and the dim consciousness of
+half-realised mistakes. Mary, the fair, quiet, thoughtful girl, earnest
+and impassioned, calm and resolute, as ignorant of practical life as
+precocious in intellect; with all her mind worshipping the same high
+ideals as Shelley's, and with all her heart worshipping him as the
+incarnation of them. Clare her very opposite; excitable and enthusiastic,
+demonstrative and capricious, clever, but silly; with a mind in which a
+smattering of speculative philosophy, picked up in Godwin's house,
+contended for the mastery with such social wisdom as she had picked up in
+a boarding school. Both of them mere children in years. Now poor Clare was
+older without being much wiser, saddened yet not sobered; suffering
+bitterly from her ambiguous position, yet unable or unwilling to put an
+end to it; the worse by her one great error, which had brought her to dire
+grief; the better by one great affection--for her child,--the source of
+much sorrow, it is true, but also of truest joy of self-devotion, and the
+only instrument of such discipline that ever she had.
+
+Shelley had found what he wanted, the faithful heart which to his own
+afforded peace and stability and the balance which, then, he so much
+needed; a kindred mind, worthy of the best his had to give; knowing and
+expecting that best, too, and satisfied with nothing short of it. And his
+best had responded. In these few years he had realised powers the extent
+of which could not have been foretold, and which might, without that
+steady sympathy and support, have remained unfulfilled possibilities for
+ever. In spite of the far-reaching consequences of his errors, in spite of
+torturing memories, in spite of ill-health, anxiety, poverty, vexation,
+and strife, the Shelley of _Queen Mab_ had become the Shelley of
+_Prometheus Unbound_ and the _Cenci_.
+
+Of this development he himself was conscious enough. In so far as he was
+known to his contemporaries, it was only by his so-called atheistic
+opinions, and his departures theoretical and actual, from conventional
+social morality; and even these owed their notoriety, not to his genius,
+but to the fact that they were such strange vagaries in the heir to a
+baronetcy. In his new life he had, indeed, known the deepest grief as well
+as the purest love, but those griefs which are memorial shrines of love
+did not paralyse him. They were rather among the influences which elicited
+the utmost possibilities of his nature; his lost children, as lovely
+ideals, were only half lost to him.
+
+But with Mary it was otherwise. Her occupation was gone. When after the
+death of her first poor little baby, she wrote: "Whenever I am left alone
+to my own thoughts, and do not read to divert them, they always come back
+to the same point--that I was a mother, and am so no longer;" a new sense
+was dawning in her which never had waned, and which, since William's
+birth, had asserted itself as the key to her nature.
+
+She had known very little of the realities of life when she left her
+father's house with Shelley, and he, her first reality, belonged in many
+ways more to the ideal than to the real world. But for her children, her
+association with him, while immeasurably expanding her mental powers,
+might have tended to develop these at the expense of her emotional nature,
+and to starve or to stifle her human sympathies. In her children she found
+the link which united her ideal love with the universal heart of mankind,
+and it was as a mother that she learned the sweet charities of human
+nature. This maternal love deepened her feelings towards her own father,
+it gave her sympathy with Clare and helped towards patience with her, it
+saved her from overmuch literary abstraction, and prevented her from
+pining when Shelley was buried in dreams or engrossed in work, and she
+loved these children with the unconscious passionate gratitude of a
+reserved nature towards anything that constrains from it the natural
+expression of that fund of tenderness and devotion so often hidden away
+under a perversely undemonstrative manner. Now, in one short year, all
+this was gone, and she sank under the blow of William's loss. She could
+not even find comfort in the thought of the baby to be born in autumn,
+for, after the repeated rending asunder of beloved ties, she looked
+forward to new ones with fear and trembling, rather than with hope. The
+physical reaction after the strain of long suspense and watching had told
+seriously on her health, never strong at these times; the efforts she had
+made at Naples were no longer possible to her. Even Clare with all her
+misery was, in one sense, better off than she, for Allegra _lived_. She
+tried to rise above her affliction, but her care for everything was gone;
+the whole world seemed dull and indifferent. Poor Shelley, only too liable
+to depression at all times, and suffering bitterly himself from the loss
+of his beloved child, tried to keep up his spirits for Mary's sake.
+
+ Thou sittest on the hearth of pale Despair,
+ Where,
+ For thine own sake, I cannot follow thee.
+
+Perhaps the effort he thus made for her sake had a bracing effect on
+himself, but the old Mary seemed gone,--lost,--and even he was powerless
+to bring her back; she could not follow him; any approach of seeming
+forgetfulness in others increased her depression and gloom.
+
+The letter to Miss Curran, which follows, was written within three weeks
+of William's death.
+
+ LEGHORN, _27th June 1819_.
+
+ MY DEAR MISS CURRAN--I wrote to you twice on our journey, and again
+ from this place, but I found the other day that Shelley had forgotten
+ to send the letter; and I have been so unwell with a cold these last
+ two or three days that I have not been able to write. We have taken an
+ airy house here, in the vicinity of Leghorn, for three months, and we
+ have not found it yet too hot. The country around us is pretty, so
+ that I daresay we shall do very well. I am going to write another
+ stupid letter to you, yet what can I do? I no sooner take up my pen
+ than my thoughts run away with me, and I cannot guide it except about
+ _one_ subject, and that I must avoid. So I entreat you to join this to
+ your many other kindnesses, and to excuse me. I have received the two
+ letters forwarded from Rome. My father's lawsuit is put off until
+ July. It will never be terminated. I hear that you have quitted the
+ pestilential air of Rome, and have gained a little health in the
+ country. Pray let us hear from you, for both Shelley and I are very
+ anxious--more than I can express--to know how you are. Let us hear
+ also, if you please, anything you may have done about the tomb, near
+ which I shall lie one day, and care not, for my own sake, how soon. I
+ never shall recover that blow; I feel it more than at Rome; the
+ thought never leaves me for a single moment; everything on earth has
+ lost its interest to me. You see I told you that I could only write to
+ you on one subject; how can I, since, do all I can (and I endeavour
+ very sincerely) I can think of no other, so I will leave off. Shelley
+ is tolerably well, and desires his kindest remembrances.--Most
+ affectionately yours,
+
+ MARY W. SHELLEY.
+
+Their sympathetic friend, Leigh Hunt, grieved at the tone of her letters
+and at Shelley's account of her, tried to convey to her a little kindly
+advice and encouragement.
+
+ 8 YORK BUILDINGS, NEW ROAD.
+ _July 1819._
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I was just about to write to you, as you will see by my
+ letter to Shelley, when I received yours. I need not say how it
+ grieves me to see you so dispirited. Not that I wonder at it under
+ such sufferings; but I know, at least I have often suspected, that you
+ have a tendency, partly constitutional perhaps, and partly owing to
+ the turn of your philosophy, to look over-intensely at the dark side
+ of human things; and they must present double dreariness through such
+ tears as you are now shedding. Pray consent to take care of your
+ health, as the ground of comfort; and cultivate your laurels on the
+ strength of it. I wish you would strike your pen into some more genial
+ subject (more obviously so than your last), and bring up a fountain of
+ gentle tears for us. That exquisite passage about the cottagers shows
+ what you could do.[36]
+
+Mary received his counsels submissively, and would have carried them out
+if she could. But her nervous prostration was beyond her own power to cure
+or remove, and it was hard for others and impossible for herself to know
+how far her dejected state was due to mental and how far to physical
+causes.
+
+Shelley was not, and dared not be, idle. He worked at his Tragedy and
+finished it; many of the Fragments, too, belong to this time. They are the
+speech of pain, but those who can teach in song what they learn in
+suffering have much, very much to be thankful for. Mary persisted in
+study; she even tried to write. But the spring of invention was low.
+
+She exerted herself to send to Mrs. Hunt an account of their present life
+and surroundings.
+
+ LEGHORN, _28th August 1819_.
+
+ MY DEAR MARIANNE--We are very dull at Leghorn, and I can therefore
+ write nothing to amuse you. We live in a little country house at the
+ end of a green lane, surrounded by a _podere_. These _poderi_ are just
+ the things Hunt would like. They are like our kitchen-gardens, with
+ the difference only that the beautiful fertility of the country gives
+ them. A large bed of cabbages is very unpicturesque in England, but
+ here the furrows are alternated with rows of grapes festooned on their
+ supporters, and the hedges are of myrtle, which have just ceased to
+ flower; their flower has the sweetest faint smell in the world, like
+ some delicious spice. Green grassy walks lead you through the vines.
+ The people are always busy, and it is pleasant to see three or four of
+ them transform in one day a bed of Indian corn to one of celery. They
+ work this hot weather in their shirts, or smock-frocks (but their
+ breasts are bare), their brown legs nearly the colour, only with a
+ rich tinge of red in it, of the earth they turn up. They sing, not
+ very melodiously, but very loud, Rossini's music, "Mi rivedrai, ti
+ rivedro," and they are accompanied by the _cicala_, a kind of little
+ beetle, that makes a noise with its tail as loud as Johnny can sing;
+ they live on trees; and three or four together are enough to deafen
+ you. It is to the _cicala_ that Anacreon has addressed an ode which
+ they call "To a Grasshopper" in the English translations.
+
+ Well, here we live. I never am in good spirits--often in very bad; and
+ Hunt's portrait has already seen me shed so many tears that, if it had
+ his heart as well as his eyes, he would weep too in pity. But no more
+ of this, or a tear will come now, and there is no use for that.
+
+ By the bye, a hint Hunt gave about portraits. The Italian painters are
+ very bad; they might make a nose like Shelley's, and perhaps a mouth,
+ but I doubt it; but there would be no expression about it. They have
+ no notion of anything except copying again and again their Old
+ Masters; and somehow mere copying, however divine the original, does a
+ great deal more harm than good.
+
+ Shelley has written a good deal, and I have done very little since I
+ have been in Italy. I have had so much to see, and so many vexations,
+ independently of those which God has kindly sent to wean me from the
+ world if I were too fond of it. Shelley has not had good health by any
+ means, and, when getting better, fate has ever contrived something to
+ pull him back. He never was better than the last month of his stay in
+ Rome, except the last week--then he watched sixty miserable death-like
+ hours without closing his eyes; and you may think what good that did
+ him.
+
+ We see the _Examiners_ regularly now, four together, just two months
+ after the publication of the last. These are very delightful to us. I
+ have a word to say to Hunt of what he says concerning Italian dancing.
+ The Italians dance very badly. They dress for their dances in the
+ ugliest manner; the men in little doublets, with a hat and feather;
+ they are very stiff; nothing but their legs move; and they twirl and
+ jump with as little grace as may be. It is not for their dancing, but
+ their pantomime, that the Italians are famous. You remember what we
+ told you of the ballet of _Othello_. They tell a story by action, so
+ that words appear perfectly superfluous things for them. In that they
+ are graceful, agile, impressive, and very affecting; so that I delight
+ in nothing so much as a deep tragic ballet. But the dancing, unless,
+ as they sometimes do, they dance as common people (for instance, the
+ dance of joy of the Venetian citizens on the return of Othello), is
+ very bad indeed.
+
+ I am very much obliged to you for all your kind offers and wishes.
+ Hunt would do Shelley a great deal of good, but that we may not think
+ of; his spirits are tolerably good. But you do not tell me how you get
+ on; how Bessy is, and where she is. Remember me to her. Clare is
+ learning thorough bass and singing. We pay four crowns a month for her
+ master, lessons three times a week; cheap work this, is it not? At
+ Rome we paid three shillings a lesson and the master stayed two hours.
+ The one we have now is the best in Leghorn.
+
+ I write in the morning, read Latin till 2, when we dine; then I read
+ some English book, and two cantos of Dante with Shelley. In the
+ evening our friends the Gisbornes come, so we are not perfectly alone.
+ I like Mrs. Gisborne very much indeed, but her husband is most
+ dreadfully dull; and as he is always with her, we have not so much
+ pleasure in her company as we otherwise should....
+
+The neighbourhood of Mrs. Gisborne, "charming from her frank and
+affectionate nature," and full of intellectual sympathy with the Shelleys,
+was a boon indeed at this melancholy time. Through her Shelley was led to
+the study of Spanish, and the appearance on the scene of Charles
+Clairmont, who had just passed a year in Spain, was an additional stimulus
+in this direction. Together they read several of Calderon's plays, from
+which Shelley derived the greatest delight, and which enabled him for a
+time to forget everyday life and its troubles. Another diversion to his
+thoughts was the scheme of a steamboat which should ply between Leghorn
+and Marseilles, to be constructed by Henry Reveley, mainly at Shelley's
+expense. He was elated at promoting a project which he conceived to be of
+great public usefulness and importance, and happy at being able to do a
+friend a good turn. He followed every stage of the steamer's construction
+with keen interest, and was much disappointed when the idea was given up,
+as, after some months, it was; not, however, until much time, labour, and
+money had been expended on it.
+
+Mary, though she endeavoured to fill the blanks in her existence by
+assiduous reading, could not escape care. Clare was in perpetual thirst
+for news of her Allegra, and Godwin spared them none of his usual
+complaints. He, too, was much concerned at the depressed tone of Mary's
+letters, which seemed to him quite disproportionate to the occasion, and
+thought it his duty to convince her, by reasoning, that she was not so
+unhappy as she thought herself to be.
+
+ SKINNER STREET, _9th September 1819_.
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--Your letter of 19th August is very grievous to me,
+ inasmuch as you represent me as increasing the degree of your
+ uneasiness and depression.
+
+ You must, however, allow me the privilege of a father and a
+ philosopher in expostulating with you on this depression. I cannot
+ but consider it as lowering your character in a memorable degree, and
+ putting you quite among the commonalty and mob of your sex, when I had
+ thought I saw in you symptoms entitling you to be ranked among those
+ noble spirits that do honour to our nature. What a falling off is
+ here! How bitterly is so inglorious a change to be deplored!
+
+ What is it you want that you have not? You have the husband of your
+ choice, to whom you seem to be unalterably attached, a man of high
+ intellectual attainments, whatever I and some other persons may think
+ of his morality, and the defects under this last head, if they be not
+ (as you seem to think) imaginary, at least do not operate as towards
+ you. You have all the goods of fortune, all the means of being useful
+ to others, and shining in your proper sphere. But you have lost a
+ child: and all the rest of the world, all that is beautiful, and all
+ that has a claim upon your kindness, is nothing, because a child of
+ two years old is dead.
+
+ The human species may be divided into two great classes: those who
+ lean on others for support, and those who are qualified to support. Of
+ these last, some have one, some five, and some ten talents. Some can
+ support a husband, a child, a small but respectable circle of friends
+ and dependents, and some can support a world, contributing by their
+ energies to advance their whole species one or more degrees in the
+ scale of perfectibility. The former class sit with their arms crossed,
+ a prey to apathy and languor, of no use to any earthly creature, and
+ ready to fall from their stools if some kind soul, who might
+ compassionate, but who cannot respect them, did not come from moment
+ to moment and endeavour to set them up again. You were formed by
+ nature to belong to the best of these classes, but you seem to be
+ shrinking away, and voluntarily enrolling yourself among the worst.
+
+ Above all things, I entreat you, do not put the miserable delusion on
+ yourself, to think there is something fine, and beautiful, and
+ delicate, in giving yourself up, and agreeing to be nothing. Remember
+ too, though at first your nearest connections may pity you in this
+ state, yet that when they see you fixed in selfishness and ill
+ humour, and regardless of the happiness of every one else, they will
+ finally cease to love you, and scarcely learn to endure you.
+
+ The other parts of your letter afford me much satisfaction. Depend
+ upon it, there is no maxim more true or more important than this;
+ Frankness of communication takes off bitterness. True philosophy
+ invites all communication, and withholds none.
+
+Such a letter tended rather to check frankness of communication than to
+bind up a broken heart. Poor Mary's feelings appear in her letter to Miss
+Curran, with whom she was in correspondence about a monumental stone for
+the tomb in Rome.
+
+ The most pressing entreaties on my part, as well as Clare's, cannot
+ draw a single line from Venice. It is now six months since we have
+ heard, even in an indirect manner, from there. God knows what has
+ happened, or what has not! I suppose Shelley must go to see what has
+ become of the little thing; yet how or when I know not, for he has
+ never recovered from his fatigue at Rome, and continually frightens me
+ by the approaches of a dysentery. Besides, we must remove. My lying-in
+ and winter are coming on, so we are wound up in an inextricable
+ dilemma. This is very hard upon us; and I have no consolation in any
+ quarter, for my misfortune has not altered the tone of my Father's
+ letters, so that I gain care every day. And can you wonder that my
+ spirits suffer terribly? that time is a weight to me? And I see no end
+ to this. Well, to talk of something more interesting, Shelley has
+ finished his tragedy, and it is sent to London to be presented to the
+ managers. It is still a _deep secret_, and only one person, Peacock
+ (who presents it), knows anything about it in England. With Shelley's
+ public and private enemies, it would certainly fall if known to be
+ his; his sister-in-law alone would hire enough people to damn it. It
+ is written with great care, and we are in hopes that its story is
+ sufficiently polished not to shock the audience. We shall see.
+ Continue to direct to us at Leghorn, for if we should be gone, they
+ will be faithfully forwarded to us. And when you return to Rome just
+ have the kindness to inquire if there should be any stray letter for
+ us at the post-office. I hope the country air will do you real good.
+ You must take care of yourself. Remember that one day you will return
+ to England, and that you may be happier there.--Affectionately yours,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+At the end of September they removed to Florence, where they had engaged
+pleasant lodgings for six months. The time of Mary's confinement was now
+approaching, an event, in Shelley's words, "more likely than any other to
+retrieve her from some part of her present melancholy depression."
+
+They travelled by short, easy stages; stopping for a day at Pisa to pay a
+visit to a lady with whom from this time their intercourse was frequent
+and familiar. This was Lady Mountcashel, who had, when a young girl, been
+Mary Wollstonecraft's pupil, and between whom and her teacher so warm an
+attachment had existed as to arouse the jealousy and dislike of her
+mother, Lady Kingsborough. She had long since been separated from Lord
+Mountcashel, and lived in Italy with a Mr. Tighe and their two daughters,
+Laura and Nerina. As Lady Mountcashel she had entertained Godwin at her
+house during his visit to Ireland after his first wife's death. She is
+described by him as a remarkable person, "a republican and a democrat in
+all their sternness, yet with no ordinary portion either of understanding
+or good nature." In dress and appearance she was somewhat singular, and
+had that disregard for public opinion on such matters which is habitually
+implied in the much abused term "strong-minded." In this respect she had
+now considerably toned down. Her views on the relations of the sexes were
+those of William Godwin, and she had put them into practice. But she and
+the gentleman with whom she lived in permanent, though irregular, union
+had succeeded in constraining, by their otherwise exemplary life, the
+general respect and esteem. They were known as "Mr. and Mrs. Mason," and
+had so far lived down criticism that their actual position had come to be
+ignored or forgotten by those around them. Mr. Tighe, or "Tatty," as he
+was familiarly called by his few intimates, was of a retiring disposition,
+a lover of books and of solitude. Mrs. Mason was as remarkable for her
+strong practical common sense as for her talents and cultivation and the
+liberality of her views. She had a considerable knowledge of the world,
+and was looked up to as a model of good breeding, and an oracle on matters
+of deportment and propriety.
+
+She had kept up correspondence with Godwin, and her acquaintance with the
+Shelleys was half made before she saw them. She conceived an immediate
+affection for Mary, as well for her own as for her mother's sake, and was
+to prove a constant and valuable friend, not to her only, but to Shelley,
+and most especially to Clare.
+
+After a week in Florence, Mary's journal was resumed.
+
+ _Saturday, October 9._--Arrive at Florence. Read Massinger. Shelley
+ begins Clarendon; reads Massinger, and Plato's _Republic_. Clare has
+ her first singing lesson on Saturday. Go to the opera and see a
+ beautiful ballet
+
+ _Monday, October 11._--Read Horace; work. Go to the Gallery. Shelley
+ finishes the first volume of Clarendon. Read the _Little Thief_.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 20._--Finish the First Book of Horace's Odes.
+ Work, walk, read, etc. On Saturday letters are sent to England. On
+ Tuesday one to Venice. Shelley visits the Galleries. Reads Spenser and
+ Clarendon aloud.
+
+ _Thursday, October 28._--Work; read; copy _Peter Bell_. Monday night a
+ great fright with Charles Clairmont. Shelley reads Clarendon aloud and
+ _Plato's Republic_. Walk. On Thursday the protest from the Bankers.
+ Shelley writes to them, and to Peacock, Longdill, and H. Smith.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 9._--Read Madame de Sevigne. Bad news from London.
+ Shelley reads Clarendon aloud, and Plato. He writes to Papa.
+
+On the 12th of November a son was born to the Shelleys, and brought the
+first true balm of consolation to his poor mother's heart.
+
+ "You may imagine," wrote Shelley to Leigh Hunt, "that this is a great
+ relief and a great comfort to me amongst all my misfortunes.... Poor
+ Mary begins (for the first time) to look a little consoled; for we
+ have spent, as you may imagine, a miserable five months."
+
+The child was healthy and pretty, and very like William. Neither Mary's
+strength nor her spirits were altogether re-established for some time, but
+the birth of "Percy Florence" was, none the less, the beginning of a new
+life for her. She turned, with the renewed energy of hope, to her literary
+work and studies. One of her first tasks was to transcribe the just
+written fourth act of _Prometheus Unbound_. She had work of her own on
+hand too; a historical novel, _Castruccio, Prince of Lucca_ (afterwards
+published as _Valperga_), a laborious but very congenial task, which
+occupied her for many months.
+
+And indeed all the solace of new and tender ties, all the animating
+interest of intellectual pursuits, was sorely needed to counteract the
+wearing effect of harassing cares and threatening calamities. Godwin was
+now being pressed for the accumulated unpaid house-rent of many years; so
+many that, when the call came, it was unexpected by him, and he challenged
+its justice. He had engaged in a law-suit on the matter, which he
+eventually lost. The only point which appeared to admit of no reasonable
+doubt was that Shelley would shortly be called upon to find a large sum of
+money for him, and this at a time when he was himself in unexpected
+pecuniary straits, owing to the non-arrival of his own remittances from
+England--a circumstance rendered doubly vexatious by the fact that a large
+portion of the money was pledged to Henry Reveley for the furtherance of
+his steamboat. A draft for L200, destined for this purpose, was returned,
+protested by Shelley's bankers. And though the money was ultimately
+recovered, its temporary loss caused no small alarm. Meanwhile every mail
+brought letters from Godwin of the most harrowing nature; the philosophy
+which he inculcated in a case of bereavement was null and void where
+impending bankruptcy was concerned. He well knew how to work on his
+daughter's feelings, and he did not spare her. Poor Shelley was at his
+wits' end.
+
+ "Mary is well," he wrote (in December) to the Gisbornes; "but for this
+ affair in London I think her spirits would be good. What shall I, what
+ can I, what ought I to do? You cannot picture to yourself my
+ perplexity."
+
+It appeared not unlikely that he might even have to go to England, a
+journey for which his present state of health quite unfitted him, and
+which he could not but be conscious would be no permanent remedy, but only
+a temporary alleviation, of Godwin's thoroughly unsound circumstances.
+Mary, in her grief for her father, began to think that the best thing for
+him might be to leave England altogether and settle abroad; an idea from
+which Mrs. Mason, with her strong sagacity, earnestly dissuaded her.
+
+Her views on the point were expressed in a letter to Shelley Mary had
+written asking her if she could give Charles Clairmont any introductions
+at Vienna, where he had now gone to seek his fortune as a teacher of
+languages; and also begging for such assistance as she might be able to
+lend in the matter of obtaining access to historical documents or other
+MS. bearing on the subjects of Mary's projected novel.
+
+ MRS. MASON TO SHELLEY.
+
+ MY DEAR SIR--I deferred answering your letter till this post in hopes
+ of being able to send some recommendations for your friend at Vienna,
+ in which I have been disappointed; and I have now also a letter from
+ my dear Mary; so I will answer both together. It gives me great
+ pleasure to hear such a good account of the little boy and his
+ mother.... I am sorry to perceive that your visit to Pisa will be so
+ much retarded; but I admire Mary's courage and industry. I sincerely
+ regret that it is not in my power to be of service to her in this
+ undertaking.... All I can say is, that when you have got all you can
+ there (where I suppose the manuscript documents are chiefly to be
+ found) and that you come to this place, I have scarcely any doubt of
+ being able to obtain for you many books on the subject which interests
+ you. Probably everything in print which relates to it is as easy to be
+ had here as at Florence.... I am very sorry indeed to think that Mr.
+ Godwin's affairs are in such a bad way, and think he would be much
+ happier if he had nothing to do with trade; but I am afraid he would
+ not be comfortable out of England. You who are young do not mind the
+ thousand little wants that men of his age are not habituated to; and
+ I, who have been so many years a vagabond on the face of the earth,
+ have long since forgotten them; but I have seen people of my age much
+ discomposed at the absence of long-accustomed trifles; and though
+ philosophy supports in great matters, it seldom vanquishes the small
+ everydayisms of life. I say this that Mary may not urge her father too
+ much to leave England. It may sound odd, but I can't help thinking
+ that Mrs. Godwin would enjoy a tour in foreign countries more than he
+ would. The physical inferiority of women sometimes teaches them to
+ support or overlook little inconveniences better than men.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "I am very sorry," she writes to Mary in another letter, "to find you
+ still suffer from low spirits. I was in hopes the little boy would
+ have been the best remedy for that. Words of consolation are but empty
+ sounds, for to time alone it belongs to wear out the tears of
+ affliction. However, a woman who gives milk should make every exertion
+ to be cheerful on account of the child she nourishes."
+
+Whether the plan for Godwin's expatriation was ever seriously proposed to
+him or not, it was, at any rate, never carried out. But none the less for
+this did the Shelleys live in the shadow of his gloom, which co-operated
+with their own pecuniary strait, previously alluded to, and with the
+nipping effects of an unwontedly severe winter, to make life still
+difficult and dreary for them.
+
+ "Shelley Calderonised on the late weather," wrote Mary to Mrs.
+ Gisborne; "he called it an epic of rain with an episode of frost, and
+ a few similes concerning fine weather. We have heard from England,
+ although not from the Bankers; but Peacock's letter renders the affair
+ darker than ever. Ah! my dear friend, you, in your slow and sure way
+ of proceeding, ought hardly to have united yourself to our eccentric
+ star. I am afraid that you will repent it, and it grieves us both more
+ than you can imagine that all should have gone so ill; but I think we
+ may rest assured that this is delay, and not loss; it can be nothing
+ else. I write in haste--a carriage at the door to take me out, and
+ _Percy_ asleep on my knee. Adieu. Charles is at Vienna by this
+ time."...
+
+They had intended remaining six months at Florence, but the place suited
+Shelley so ill that they took advantage of the first favourable change in
+the weather, at the end of January, to remove to Pisa, where the climate
+was milder, and where they now had pleasant friends in the Masons at "Casa
+Silva." They wished, too, to consult the celebrated Italian surgeon,
+Vacca, on the subject of Shelley's health. Vacca's advice took the shape
+of an earnest exhortation to him to abstain from drugs and remedies, to
+live a healthy life, and to leave his complaint, as far as possible, to
+nature. And, though he continued liable to attacks of pain and illness,
+and on one occasion had a severe nervous attack, the climate of Pisa
+proved in the end more suitable to him than any other, and for more than
+two years he remained there or in the immediate neighbourhood. He and Mary
+were never more industrious than at this time; reading extensively, and
+working together on a translation of Spinoza they had begun at Florence,
+and which occupied them, at intervals, for many months. Little Percy, a
+most healthy and satisfactory infant, had in March an attack of measles,
+but so slight as to cause no anxiety. Once, however, during the summer
+they had a fright about him, when an unusually alarming letter from her
+father upset Mary so much as to cause in her nursling, through her,
+symptoms of an illness similar to that which had destroyed little Clara.
+On this occasion she authorised Shelley, at his earnest request, to
+intercept future letters of the kind, an authority of which he had to
+avail himself at no distant date, telling Godwin that his domestic peace,
+Mary's health and happiness, and his child's life, could no longer be
+entirely at his mercy.
+
+No wonder that his own nervous ailments kept their hold of him. And to
+make matters better for him and for Mary, Paolo, the rascally Italian
+servant whom they had dismissed at Naples, now concocted a plot for
+extorting money from Shelley by accusing him of frightful crimes. Legal
+aid had to be called in to silence him. To this end they employed an
+attorney of Leghorn, named Del Rosso, and, for convenience of
+communication, they occupied for a few weeks Casa Ricci, the Gisbornes'
+house there, the owners being absent in England. Shelley made Henry
+Reveley's workshop his study. Hence he addressed his poetical "Letter to
+Maria Gisborne," and here too it was that "on a beautiful summer evening
+while wandering among the lanes, whose myrtle hedges were the bowers of
+the fireflies (they) heard the carolling of the skylark, which inspired
+one of the most beautiful of his poems."[37]
+
+If external surroundings could have made them happy they might have been
+so now, but Shelley, though in better health, was very nervous. Paolo's
+scandal and the legal affair embittered his life, to an extent difficult
+indeed to estimate, for it is certain that for some one else's sake,
+though _whose_ sake has never transpired, he had accepted when at Naples
+responsibilities at once delicate and compromising. Paolo had knowledge of
+the matter, and used this knowledge partly to revenge himself on Shelley
+for dismissing him from his service, partly to try and extort money from
+him by intimidation. The Shelleys hoped they had "crushed him" with Del
+Rosso's help, but they could not be certain, because, as Mary wrote to
+Miss Curran, they "could only guess at his accomplices." With Shelley in a
+state of extreme nervous irritability, with Mary deprived of repose by her
+anguish on her father's account and her feverish anxiety to help him, with
+Clare unsettled and miserable about Allegra, venting her misery by writing
+to Byron letters unreasonable and provoking, though excusable, and then
+regretting having sent them, they were not likely to be the most cheerful
+or harmonious of trios.
+
+The weather became intolerably hot by the end of August, and they migrated
+to Casa Prinni, at the Baths of S. Giuliano di Pisa. The beauty of this
+place, and the delightful climate, refreshed and invigorated them all.
+They spent two or three days in seeing Lucca and the country around, when
+Shelley wrote the _Witch of Atlas_. Exquisite poem as it is, it was, in
+Mary's mood of the moment, a disappointment to her. Ever since the _Cenci_
+she had been strongly impressed with the conviction that if he could but
+write on subjects of universal _human_ interest, instead of indulging in
+those airy creations of fancy which demand in the reader a sympathetic,
+but rare, quality of imagination, he would put himself more in touch with
+his contemporaries, who so greatly misunderstood him, and that, once he
+had elicited a responsive feeling in other men, this would be a source of
+profound happiness and of fresh and healthy inspiration to himself. "I
+still think I was right," she says, woman-like, in the _Notes to the Poems
+of 1820_, written long after Shelley's death. So from one point of view
+she undoubtedly was, but there are some things which cannot be
+constrained. Shelley was Shelley, and at the moment when he was moved to
+write a poem like the _Witch of Atlas_, it was useless to wish that it
+had been something quite different.
+
+His next poem was to be inspired by a human subject, and perhaps then poor
+Mary would have preferred a second Witch of Atlas.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+SEPTEMBER 1820-AUGUST 1821
+
+
+The baths were of great use to Shelley in allaying his nervous
+irritability. Such an improvement in him could not be without a
+corresponding beneficial effect on Mary. In the study of Greek, which she
+had begun with him at Leghorn, she found a new and wellnigh inexhaustible
+fund of intellectual pleasure. Their life, though very quiet, was somewhat
+more varied than it had been at Leghorn, partly owing to their being
+within easy reach of Pisa and of their friends at Casa Silva.
+
+The Gisbornes had returned from England, and, during a short absence of
+Clare's, Mary tried, but ineffectually, to persuade Mrs. Gisborne to come
+and occupy her room for a time. Some circumstance had arisen which led
+shortly after to a misunderstanding between the two families, soon over,
+but painful while it lasted. It was probably connected with the
+abandonment of the projected steamboat; Henry Reveley, while in England,
+having changed his mind and reconsidered his future plans.
+
+In October a curiously wet season set in.
+
+ _Journal, Wednesday, October 18._--Rain till 1 o'clock. At sunset the
+ arch of cloud over the west clears away; a few black islands float in
+ the serene; the moon rises; the clouds spot the sky, but the depth of
+ heaven is clear. The nights are uncommonly warm. Write. Shelley reads
+ _Hyperion_ aloud. Read Greek.
+
+ My thoughts arise and fade in solitude;
+ The verse that would invest them melts away
+ Like moonlight in the heaven of spreading day.
+ How beautiful they were, how firm they stood,
+ Flecking the starry sky like woven pearl.
+
+ _Friday, October 20._--Shelley goes to Florence. Write. Read Greek.
+ Wind N.W., but more cloudy than yesterday, yet sometimes the sun
+ shines out; the wind high. Read Villani.
+
+ _Saturday, October 21._--Rain in the night and morning; very cloudy;
+ not an air stirring; the leaves of the trees quite still. After a
+ showery morning it clears up somewhat, and the sun shines. Read
+ Villani, and ride to Pisa.
+
+ _Sunday, October 22._--Rainy night and rainy morning; as bad weather
+ as is possible in Italy. A little patience and we shall have St.
+ Martin's summer. At sunset the arch of clear sky appears where it
+ sets, becoming larger and larger, until at 7 o'clock the dark clouds
+ are alone over Monte Nero; Venus shines bright in the clear azure, and
+ the trunks of the trees are tinged with the silvery light of the
+ rising moon. Write, and read Villani. Shelley returns with Medwin.
+ Read _Sismondi_.
+
+Of Tom Medwin, Shelley's cousin and great admirer, who now for the first
+time appeared on the scene, they were to see, if anything, more than they
+wished.
+
+He was a lieutenant on half-pay, late of the 8th Dragoons; much addicted
+to literature, and with no mean opinion of his own powers in that line.
+
+ _Journal, Tuesday, October 24._--Rainy night and morning; it does not
+ rain in the afternoon. Shelley and Medwin go to Pisa. Walk; write.
+
+ _Wednesday, October 25._--Rain all night. The banks of the Serchio
+ break, and by dark all the baths are overflowed. Water four feet deep
+ in our house. "The weather fine."
+
+This flood brought their stay at the Baths to a sudden end. As soon as
+they could get lodgings they returned to Pisa. Here, not long after,
+Medwin fell ill, and was six weeks invalided in their house. They showed
+him the greatest kindness; Shelley nursing him like a brother. His society
+was, for a time, a tolerably pleasant change; he knew Spanish, and read
+with Shelley a great deal in that language, but he had no depth or breadth
+of mind, and his literary vanity and egotism made him at last what Mary
+Shelley described as a _seccatura_, for which the nearest English
+equivalent is, a bore.
+
+ _Journal, Sunday, November 12._--Percy's birthday. A divine day; sunny
+ and cloudless; somewhat cold in the evening. It would be pleasant
+ enough living in Pisa if one had a carriage and could escape from
+ one's house to the country without mingling with the inhabitants, but
+ the Pisans and the Scolari, in short, the whole population, are such
+ that it would sound strange to an English person if I attempted to
+ express what I feel concerning them--crawling and crab-like through
+ their sapping streets. Read _Corinne_. Write.
+
+ _Monday, November 13._--Finish _Corinne_. Write. My eyes keep me from
+ all study; this is very provoking.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 14._--Write. Read Homer, Targione, and Spanish. A
+ rainy day. Shelley reads Calderon.
+
+ _Thursday, November 23._--Write. Read Greek and Spanish. Medwin ill.
+ Play at chess.
+
+ _Friday, November 24._--Read Greek, Villani, and Spanish with M....
+ Pacchiani in the evening. A rainy and cloudy day.
+
+ _Friday, December 1._--Read Greek, _Don Quixote_, Calderon, and
+ Villani. Pacchiani comes in the evening. Visit La Viviani. Walk.
+ Sgricci is introduced. Go to a _funzione_ on the death of a student.
+
+ _Saturday, December 2._--Write an Italian letter to Hunt. Read
+ _Oedipus_, _Don Quixote_, and Calderon. Pacchiani and a Greek prince
+ call--Prince Mavrocordato.
+
+In these few entries occur four new and remarkable names. Pacchiani, who
+had been, if he was not still, a university professor, but who was none
+the less an adventurer and an impostor; in orders, moreover, which only
+served as a cloak for his hypocrisy; clever withal, and eloquent; well
+knowing where, and how, to ingratiate himself. He amused, but did not
+please the Shelleys. He was, however, one of those people who know
+everybody, and through him they made several acquaintances; among them the
+celebrated Improvisatore, Sgricci, and the young Greek statesman and
+patriot, Prince Alexander Mavrocordato. With the improvisations of
+Sgricci, his eloquence, his _entrain_, both Mary and Clare were fairly
+carried away with excitement. Older, experienced folk looked with a more
+critical eye on his performances, but to these English girls the
+exhibition was an absolute novelty, and seemed inspired. Sgricci was
+during this winter a frequent visitor at "Casa Galetti."
+
+Prince Mavrocordato proved deeply interesting, both to Mary and Shelley.
+He "was warmed by those aspirations for the independence of his country
+which filled the hearts of many of his countrymen," and in the revolution
+which, shortly afterwards, broke out there, he was to play an important
+part, as one of the foremost of modern Greek statesmen. To him, at a
+somewhat later date, was dedicated Shelley's lyrical drama of _Hellas_;
+"as an imperfect token of admiration, sympathy, and friendship."
+
+This new acquaintance came to Mary just when her interest in the Greek
+language and literature was most keen. Before long the prince had
+volunteered to help her in her studies, and came often to give her Greek
+lessons, receiving instruction in English in return.
+
+ "Do you not envy my luck," she wrote to Mrs. Gisborne, "that having
+ begun Greek, an amiable, young, agreeable, and learned Greek prince
+ comes every morning to give me a lesson of an hour and a half. This is
+ the result of an acquaintance with Pacchiani. So you see, even the
+ Devil has his use."
+
+The acquaintance with Pacchiani had already had another and a yet more
+memorable result, which affected Mary none the less that it did so
+indirectly. Through him they had come to know Emilia Viviani, the noble
+and beautiful Italian girl, immured by her father in a convent at Pisa
+until such time as a husband could be found for her who would take a wife
+without a dowry. Shelley's acquaintance with Emilia was an episode, which
+at one time looked like an era, in his existence. An era in his poetry it
+undoubtedly was, since it is to her that the _Epipsychidion_ is addressed.
+
+Mary and Clare were the first to see the lovely captive, and were struck
+with astonishment and admiration. But on Shelley the impression she made
+was overwhelming, and took possession of his whole nature. Her
+extraordinary beauty and grace, her powers of mind and conversation,
+warmed by that glow of genius so exclusively southern, another variety of
+which had captivated them all in Sgricci, and which to northern minds
+seems something phenomenal and inspired,--these were enough to subdue any
+man, and, when added to the halo of interest shed around her by her
+misfortunes and her misery, made her, to Shelley, irresistible.
+
+All his sentiments, when aroused, were passions; he pitied, he
+sympathised, he admired and venerated passionately; he scorned, hated, and
+condemned passionately too. But he never was swayed by any love that did
+not excite his imagination: his attachments were ever in proportion to
+the power of idealisation evoked in him by their objects. And never,
+surely, was there a subject for idealisation like Emilia; the Spirit of
+Intellectual Beauty in the form of a goddess; the captive maiden waiting
+for her Deliverer; the perfect embodiment of immortal Truth and
+Loveliness, held in chains by the powers of cruelty, tyranny, and
+hypocrisy.
+
+She was no goddess, poor Emilia, as indeed he soon found out; only a
+lovely young creature of vivid intelligence and a temperament in which
+Italian ardour was mingled with Italian subtlety; every germ of sentiment
+magnified and intensified in outward effect by fervour of manner and
+natural eloquence; the very reverse of human nature in the north, where
+depth of feeling is apt to be in proportion to its inveterate dislike of
+discovery, where warmth can rarely shake off self-consciousness, and where
+many of the best men and women are so much afraid of seeming a whit better
+than they really are, that they take pains to appear worse. Rightly
+balanced, the whole sum of Emilia's gifts and graces would have weighed
+little against Mary's nobleness of heart and unselfish devotion; her
+talents might not even have borne serious comparison with Clare's
+vivacious intellect. But to Shelley, haunted by a vision of perfection,
+and ever apt to recognise in a mortal image "the likeness of that which
+is, perhaps, eternal,"[38] she seemed a revelation, and, like all
+revelations, supreme, unique, superseding for the time every other
+possibility. It was a brief madness, a trance of inspiration, and its
+duration was counted only by days. They met for the first time early in
+December. By the 10th she was corresponding with him as her _diletto
+fratello_. Before the month was over _Epipsychidion_ had been written.
+
+Before the middle of January he could write of her--
+
+ My conception of Emilia's talents augments every day. Her moral nature
+ is fine, but not above circumstances; yet I think her tender and true,
+ which is always something. How many are only one of these things at a
+ time!...
+
+ There is no reason that you should fear any admixture of that which
+ you call _love_....
+
+This was written to Clare. She had very quickly become intimate and
+confidential with Emilia, and estimated her to a nicety at her real worth,
+admiring her without idealising her or caring to do so. She knew Shelley
+pretty intimately too, and, being personally unconcerned in the matter,
+could afford at once to be sympathetic and to speak her mind fearlessly;
+the consequence being that Shelley was unconstrained in communication with
+her.
+
+That _Mary_ should be his most sympathetic confidant at this juncture was
+not in the nature of things. She, too, had begun by idealising Emilia,
+but her affection and enthusiastic admiration were soon outdone and might
+well have been quenched by Shelley's rapt devotion. She did not
+misunderstand him, she knew him too well for that, but the better she
+understood him the less it was possible for her to feel with him; nor
+could it have been otherwise unless she had been really as cold as she
+sometimes appeared. Loyal herself, she never doubted Shelley's loyalty,
+but she suffered, though she did not choose to show it: her love, like a
+woman's,--perhaps even more than most women's--was exclusive; Shelley's,
+like a man's,--like many of the best of men's,--inclusive.
+
+She did not allow her feelings to interfere with her actions. She
+continued to show all possible sympathy and kindness to Emilia, who in
+return would style her her dearest, loveliest friend and sister. No
+wonder, however, if at times Mary could not quite overcome a slight
+constraint of manner, or if this was increased when her dearest sister,
+with sweet unconsciousness, would openly probe the wound her pride would
+fain have hidden from herself; when Emilia, for instance, wrote to
+Shelley--
+
+ Mary does not write to me. Is it possible that she loves me less than
+ the others do? I should indeed be inconsolable at that.
+
+Or to be informed in a letter to herself that this constraint of manner
+had been talked over by Emilia with Shelley, who had assured her that
+Mary's apparent coldness was only "the ash which covered an affectionate
+heart."
+
+He was right, indeed, and his words were the faithful echo of his own true
+heart. He might have added, of himself, that his transient enthusiasms
+resembled the soaring blaze of sparks struck by a hammer from a glowing
+mass of molten metal.
+
+But, in everyday prose, the situation was a trying one for Mary, and
+surely no wife of two and twenty could have met it more bravely and simply
+than she did.
+
+ "It is grievous," she wrote to Leigh Hunt, "to see this beautiful girl
+ wearing out the best years of her life in an odious convent, where
+ both mind and body are sick from want of the appropriate exercise for
+ each. I think she has great talent, if not genius; or if not an
+ internal fountain, how could she have acquired the mastery she has of
+ her own language, which she writes so beautifully, or those ideas
+ which lift her so far above the rest of the Italians? She has not
+ studied much, and now, hopeless from a five years' confinement,
+ everything disgusts her, and she looks with hatred and distaste even
+ on the alleviations of her situation. Her only hope is in a marriage
+ which her parents tell her is concluded, although she has never seen
+ the person intended for her. Nor do I think the change of situation
+ will be much for the better, for he is a younger brother, and will
+ live in the house with his mother, who they say is _molto seccante_.
+ Yet she may then have the free use of her limbs; she may then be able
+ to walk out among the fields, vineyards, and woods of her country,
+ and see the mountains and the sky, and not as now, a dozen steps to
+ the right, and then back to the left another dozen, which is the
+ longest walk her convent garden affords, and that, you may be sure,
+ she is very seldom tempted to take."
+
+By the middle of February Shelley was sending his poem for publication,
+speaking of it as the production of "a part of himself already dead." He
+continued, however, to take an almost painful interest in Emilia's fate;
+she, poor girl, though not the sublime creature he had thought her, was
+infinitely to be pitied. Before their acquaintance ended, she was turning
+it to practical account, after the fashion of most of Shelley's friends,
+by begging for and obtaining considerable sums of money.
+
+If Mary then indulged in a little retrospective sarcasm to her friend,
+Mrs. Gisborne, it is hardly wonderful. Indeed, later allusions are not
+wanting to show that this time was felt by her to be one of annoyance and
+bitterness.
+
+Two circumstances were in her favour. She was well, and, therefore,
+physically able to look at things in their true light; and, during a great
+part of the time, Clare was away. In the previous October, during their
+stay at the Baths, she had at last resolved on trying to make out some
+sort of life for herself, and had taken a situation as governess in a
+Florentine family. She had come back to the Shelleys for the month of
+December (when it was that she became acquainted with Emilia Vivani), but
+had returned to Florence at Christmas.
+
+She had been persuaded to this step by the judicious Mrs. Mason, who had
+soon perceived the strained relations existing between Mary and Clare, and
+had seen, too, that the disunion was only the natural and inevitable
+result of circumstances. It was not only that the two girls were of
+opposite and jarring temperament; there was also the fact that half the
+suspicious mistrust with Shelley was regarded by those who did not
+personally know him, and the shadow of which rested on Mary too, was
+caused by Clare's continued presence among them. As things were now, it
+might have passed without remark, but for the scandalous reports which
+dated back to the Marlow days, and which had recently been revived by the
+slanders of Paolo, although the extent of these slanders had not yet
+transpired. Shelley had been alive enough to the danger at one time, but
+had now got accustomed and indifferent to it. He had a great affection and
+a great compassion for Clare; her vivacity enlivened him; he said himself
+that he liked her although she teased him, and he certainly missed her
+teasing when she was away. But Mary, to whom Clare's perpetual society was
+neither a solace nor a change, and who, as the mother of children, could
+no longer look at things from a purely egotistic point of view, must have
+felt it positively unjust and wrong to allow their father's reputation to
+be sacrificed--to say nothing of her own--to what was in no wise a
+necessity. Shelley loved solitude--a mitigated solitude that is;--he
+certainly did not pine for general society. Yet many of his letters bear
+unmistakable evidence to the pain and resentment he felt at being
+universally shunned by his own countrymen, as if he were an enemy of the
+human race. But Mary, a woman, and only twenty-two, must have been
+self-sufficient indeed if, with all her mental resources, she had not
+required the renovation of change and contrast and varied intercourse, to
+keep her mind and spirit fresh and bright, and to fit her for being a
+companion and a resource to Shelley. That she and he were condemned to
+protracted isolation was partly due to Clare, and when Mary was weak and
+dejected, her consciousness of this became painful, and her feeling
+towards the sprightly, restless Miss Clairmont was touched with positive
+antipathy. Shelley, considering Clare the weaker party, supported her, in
+the main, and certainly showed no desire to have her away. He might have
+seen that to impose her presence on Mary in such circumstances was, in
+fact, as great a piece of tyranny as he had suffered from when Eliza
+Westbrook was imposed on him. But of this he was, and he remained,
+perfectly unconscious. Clare ought to have retired from the field, but her
+dependent condition, and her wretched anxiety about Allegra, were her
+excuse for clinging to the only friends she had.
+
+All this was evident to Mrs. Mason, and it was soon shown that she had
+judged rightly, as the relations between Mary and Clare became cordial and
+natural once they were relieved from the intolerable friction of daily
+companionship.
+
+During this time of excitement and unrest one new acquaintance had,
+however, begun, which circumstances were to develop into a close and
+intimate companionship.
+
+In January there had arrived at Pisa a young couple of the name of
+Williams; mainly attracted by the desire to see and to know Shelley, of
+whose gifts and virtues and sufferings they had heard much from Tom
+Medwin, their neighbour in Switzerland the year before. Lieutenant Edward
+Elliker Williams had been, first, in the Navy, then in the Army; had met
+his wife in India, and, returning with her to England, had sold his
+commission and retired on half-pay. He was young, of a frank
+straightforward disposition and most amiable temper, modest and
+unpretentious, with some literary taste, and no strong prejudices. Jane
+Williams was young and pretty, gentle and graceful, neither very
+cultivated nor particularly clever, but with a comfortable absence of
+angles in her disposition, and an abundance of that feminine tact which
+prevents intellectual shortcomings from being painfully felt, and which
+is, in its way, a manifestation of genius. Not an uncommon type of woman,
+but quite new in the Shelleys' experience. At first they thought her
+rather wanting in animation, and Shelley was conscious of her lack of
+literary refinement, but these were more and more compensated for, as time
+went on, by her natural grace and her taste for music. "Ned" was something
+of an artist, and Mary Shelley sat more than once to him for her portrait.
+There was, in short, no lack of subjects in common, and the two young
+couples found a mutual pleasure in each other's society which increased in
+measure as they became better acquainted.
+
+In March poor Clare received with bitter grief the intelligence that her
+child had been placed by Byron in a convent, at Bagnacavallo, not far from
+Ravenna, where he now lived. Under the sway of the Countess Guiccioli,
+whose father and brother were domesticated in his house, he was leading
+what, in comparison with his Venetian existence, was a life of
+respectability and virtue. His action with regard to Allegra was
+considered by the Shelleys as, probably, inevitable in the circumstances,
+but to Clare it was a terrible blow. She felt more hopelessly separated
+from her child than ever, and she had seen enough of Italian convent
+education and its results to convince her that it meant moral and
+intellectual degradation and death. Her despairing representations to this
+effect were, of course, unanswered by Byron, who contented himself with a
+Mephistophelian sneer in showing her letter to the Hoppners.
+
+With the true "malignity of those who turn sweet food into poison,
+transforming all they touch to the malignity of their own natures,"[39] he
+had no hesitation in giving credit to the reports about Clare's life in
+the Shelleys' family, nor in openly implying his own belief in their
+probable truth.
+
+But for this, and for one great alarm caused by the sudden and
+unaccountable stoppage of Shelley's income (through a mistake which
+happily was discovered and speedily rectified by his good friend, Horace
+Smith), the spring was, for Mary, peaceful and bright. She was assiduous
+in her Greek studies, and keenly interested in the contemporary European
+politics of that stirring time; as full of sympathy as Shelley himself
+could be with the numerous insurrectionary outbreaks in favour of liberty.
+And when the revolution in Greece broke out, and one bright April morning
+Prince Mavrocordato rushed in to announce to her the proclamation of
+Prince Hypsilantes, her elation and joy almost equalled his own.
+
+In companionship with the Williams', aided and abetted by Henry Reveley,
+Shelley's old passion for boating revived. In the little ten-foot long
+boat procured for him for a few pauls, and then fitted up by Mr. Reveley,
+they performed many a voyage, on the Arno, on the canal between Pisa and
+Leghorn, and even on the sea. Their first trip was marked by an
+accident--Williams contriving to overturn the boat. Nothing daunted,
+Shelley declared next day that his ducking had added fire to, instead of
+quenching, the nautical ardour which produced it, and that he considered
+it a good omen to any enterprise that it began in evil, as making it more
+likely that it would end in good.
+
+All these events are touched on in the few specimen extracts from Mary's
+journal and letters which follow--
+
+ _Wednesday, January 31._--Read Greek. Call on Emilia Viviani. Shelley
+ reads the _Vita Nuova_ aloud to me in the evening.
+
+ _Friday, February 2._--Read Greek. Write. Emilia Viviani walks out
+ with Shelley. The Opera, with the Williams' (_Il Matrimonio Segreto_).
+
+ _Tuesday, February 6._--Read Greek. Sit to Williams. Call on Emilia
+ Viviani. Prince Mavrocordato in the evening. A long metaphysical
+ argument.
+
+ _Wednesday, February 7._--Read Greek. Sit to Williams. In the evening
+ the Williams', Prince Mavrocordato, and Mr. Taafe.
+
+ _Monday, February 12._--Read Greek (no lesson). Finish the _Vita
+ Nuova_. In the afternoon call on Emilia Viviani. Walk. Mr. Taafe
+ calls.
+
+ _Thursday, February 27._--Read Greek. The Williams to dine with us.
+ Walk with them. Il Diavolo Pacchiani calls. Shelley reads "The Ancient
+ Mariner" aloud.
+
+ _Saturday, March 4._--Read Greek (no lesson). Walk with the Williams'.
+ Read Horace with Shelley in the evening. A delightful day.
+
+ _Sunday, March 5._--Read Greek. Write letters. The Williams' to dine
+ with us. Walk with them. Williams relates his history. They spend the
+ evening with us, with Prince Mavrocordato and Mr. Taafe.
+
+ _Thursday, March 8._--Read Greek (no lesson). Call on Emilia Viviani.
+ E. Williams calls. Shelley reads _The Case is Altered_ of Ben Jonson
+ aloud in the evening. A mizzling day and rainy night.... March winds
+ and rains are begun, the last puff of winter's breath,--the eldest
+ tears of a coming spring; she ever comes in weeping and goes out
+ smiling.
+
+ _Monday, March 12._--Read Greek (no lesson). Finish the _Defence of
+ Poetry_. Copy for Shelley; he reads to me the _Tale of a Tub_. A
+ delightful day after a misty morning.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 14._--Read Greek (no lesson). Copy for Shelley. Walk
+ with Williams. Prince Mavrocordato in the evening. I have an
+ interesting conversation with him concerning Greece. The second
+ bulletin of the Austrians published. A sirocco, but a pleasant
+ evening,
+
+ _Friday, March 16._--Read Greek. Copy for Shelley. Walk with Williams.
+ Mrs. Williams confined. News of the Revolution of Piedmont, and the
+ taking of the citadel of Candia by the Greeks. A beautiful day, but
+ not hot.
+
+ _Sunday, March 18._--Read Greek. Copy for Shelley. A sirocco and
+ mizzle. Bad news from Naples. Walk with Williams. Prince Mavrocordato
+ in the evening.
+
+ _Monday, March 26._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato. Finish the
+ _Antigone_. A mizzling day. Spend the evening at the Williams'.
+
+ _Wednesday, March 28._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato. Call on Emilia
+ Viviani. Walk with Williams. Mr. Taafe in the evening. A fine day,
+ though changeful as to clouds and wind. The State of Massa declares
+ the Constitution. The Piedmontese troops are at Sarzana.
+
+ _Sunday, April 1._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato calls with news
+ about Greece. He is as gay as a caged eagle just free. Call on Emilia
+ Viviani. Walk with Williams; he spends the evening with us.
+
+ _Monday, April 2._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato calls with the
+ proclamation of Ipsilanti. Write to him. Ride with Shelley into the
+ Cascini. A divine day, with a north-west wind. The theatre in the
+ evening. Tachinardi.
+
+ _Wednesday, April 11._--Read Greek, and _Osservatore Fiorentino_. A
+ letter that overturns us.[40] Walk with Shelley. In the evening
+ Williams and Alex. Mavrocordato.
+
+ _Friday, April 13._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato calls.
+ _Osservatore Fiorentino_. Walk with the Williams'. Shelley at Casa
+ Silva in the evening. An explanation of our difficulty.
+
+ _Monday, April 16._--Write. Targioni. Read Greek. Mrs. Williams to
+ dinner. In the evening Mr. Taafe. A wet morning: in the afternoon a
+ fierce maestrale. Shelley, Williams, and Henry Reveley try to come up
+ the canal to Pisa; miss their way, are capsized, and sleep at a
+ contadino's.
+
+ _Tuesday, April 24._--Read Greek. Alex. Mavrocordato. Hume. Villani.
+ Walk with the Williams'. Alex. M. calls in the evening, with good news
+ from Greece. The Morea free.
+
+They now migrated once more to the beautiful neighbourhood of the Baths of
+San Giuliano di Pisa; the Williams' established themselves at Pugnano,
+only four miles off: the canal fed by the Serchio ran between the two
+places, and the little boat was in constant requisition.
+
+ Our boat is asleep on Serchio's stream,
+ Its sails are folded like thoughts in a dream,
+ The helm sways idly, hither and thither;
+ Dominic, the boatman, has brought the mast,
+ And the oars, and the sails; but 'tis sleeping fast,
+ Like a beast, unconscious of its tether.[41]
+
+ The canal which, fed by the Serchio, was, though an artificial, a full
+ and picturesque stream, making its way under verdant banks, sheltered
+ by trees that dipped their boughs into the murmuring waters. By day,
+ multitudes of ephemera darted to and fro on the surface; at night, the
+ fireflies came out among the shrubs on the banks; the _cicale_, at
+ noonday, kept up their hum; the aziola cooed in the quiet evening. It
+ was a pleasant summer, bright in all but Shelley's health and
+ inconstant spirits; yet he enjoyed himself greatly, and became more
+ and more attached to the part of the country where chance appeared to
+ cast us. Sometimes he projected taking a farm, situated on the height
+ of one of the near hills, surrounded by chestnut and pine woods and
+ overlooking a wide extent of country; or of settling still further in
+ the maritime Apennines, at Massa. Several of his slighter and
+ unfinished poems were inspired by these scenes, and by the companions
+ around us. It is the nature of that poetry, however, which overflows
+ from the soul, oftener to express sorrow and regret than joy; for it
+ is when oppressed by the weight of life and away from those he loves,
+ that the poet has recourse to the solace of expression in verse.[42]
+
+
+ _Journal, Thursday, May 3._--Read Villani. Go out in boat; call on
+ Emilia Viviani. Walk with Shelley. In the evening Alex. Mavrocordato,
+ Henry Reveley, Dancelli, and Mr. Taafe.
+
+ _Friday, May 4._--Read Greek. (Alex. M.) Read Villani. Shelley goes to
+ Leghorn by sea with Henry Reveley.
+
+ _Tuesday, May 8._--Packing. Read Greek (Alex. Mavrocordato). Shelley
+ goes to Leghorn. In the evening walk with Alex. M. to Pugnano. See the
+ Williams; return to the Baths. Shelley and Henry Reveley come. The
+ weather quite April; rain and sunshine, and by no means warm.
+
+ _Saturday, June 23._--Abominably cold weather--rain, wind, and
+ cloud--quite an Italian November or a Scotch May. Shelley and Williams
+ go to Leghorn. Write. Read and finish Malthus. Begin the answer.[43]
+ Jane (Williams) spends the day here, and Edward returns in the
+ evening. Read Greek.
+
+ _Sunday, June 24._--Write. Read the _Answer to Malthus_. Finish it.
+ Shelley at Leghorn.
+
+ _Monday, June 25._--Little babe not well. Shelley returns. The
+ Williams call. Read old plays. Vacca calls.
+
+ _Tuesday, June 26._--Babe well. Write. Read Greek. Shelley not well.
+ Mr. Taafe and Granger dine with us. Walk with Shelley. Vacca calls.
+ Alex. Mavrocordato sails.
+
+ _Thursday, June 28._--Write. Read Greek. Read Mackenzie's works. Go to
+ Pugnano in the boat. The warmest day this month. Fireflies in the
+ evening.
+
+They were near enough to Pisa to go over there from time to time to see
+Emilia and other friends, and for Prince Mavrocordato to come frequently
+and give them the latest political news: the Greek lessons had been
+voluntarily abjured by Mary when it seemed probable that the Prince might
+be summoned at any moment to play an active part in the affairs of his
+country, as actually happened in June. Shelley was still tormented by the
+pain in his side, but his health and spirits were insensibly improving, as
+he himself afterwards admitted. He was occupied in writing _Hellas_; his
+elegy on Keats's death, _Adonais_ also belongs to this time. Ned Williams,
+infected by the surrounding atmosphere of literature, had tried his
+'prentice hand on a drama. In the words of his own journal--
+
+ Went in the summer to Pugnano--passed the first three months in
+ writing a play entitled _The Promise, or a year, a month, and a day_.
+ S. tells me if they accept it he has great hopes of its success before
+ an audience, and his hopes always enliven mine.
+
+Mary was straining every nerve to finish _Valperga_, in the hope of being
+able to send it to England by the Gisbornes, who were preparing to leave
+Italy,--a hope, however, which was not fulfilled.
+
+ MARY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ BATHS OF S. GIULIANO,
+ _30th June 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Well, how do you get on? Mr. Gisborne says
+ nothing of that in the note which he wrote yesterday, and it is that
+ in which I am most interested.
+
+ I pity you exceedingly in all the disagreeable details to which you
+ are obliged to sacrifice your time and attention. I can conceive no
+ employment more tedious; but now I hope it is nearly over, and that as
+ the fruit of its conclusion you will soon come to see us. Shelley is
+ far from well; he suffers from his side and nervous irritation. The
+ day on which he returned from Leghorn he found little Percy ill of a
+ fever produced by teething. He got well the next day, but it was so
+ strong while it lasted that it frightened us greatly. You know how
+ much reason we have to fear the deceitful appearance of perfect
+ health. You see that this, your last summer in Italy, is manufactured
+ on purpose to accustom you to the English seasons.
+
+ It is warmer now, but we still enjoy the delight of cloudy skies. The
+ "Creator" has not yet made himself heard. I get on with my occupation,
+ and hope to finish the rough transcript this month. I shall then give
+ about a month to corrections, and then I shall transcribe it. It has
+ indeed been a child of mighty slow growth since I first thought of it
+ in our library at Marlow. I then wanted the body in which I might
+ embody my spirit. The materials for this I found at Naples, but I
+ wanted other books. Nor did I begin it till a year afterwards at Pisa;
+ it was again suspended during our stay at your house, and continued
+ again at the Baths. All the winter I did not touch it, but now it is
+ in a state of great forwardness, since I am at page 71 of the third
+ volume. It has indeed been a work of some labour, since I have read
+ and consulted a great many books. I shall be very glad to read the
+ first volume to you, that you may give me your opinion as to the
+ conduct and interest of the story. June is now at its last gasp. You
+ talked of going in August, I hope therefore that we may soon expect
+ you. Have you heard anything concerning the inhabitants of Skinner
+ Street? It is now many months since I received a letter, and I begin
+ to grow alarmed. Adieu.--Ever sincerely yours,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+On the 26th of July the Gisbornes came to pay their friends a short
+farewell visit; on the 29th they started for England; Shelley going with
+them as far as Florence, where he and Mary thought again of settling for
+the winter, and where he wished to make inquiries about houses. During his
+few days' absence the Williams' were almost constantly with Mary. Edward
+Williams was busy painting a portrait of her in miniature, intended by
+her as a surprise for Shelley on his birthday, the 4th of August. But when
+that day arrived Shelley was unavoidably absent. On his return to the
+Baths he had found a letter from Lord Byron, with a pressing invitation to
+visit him at Ravenna, whence Byron was on the point of departing to join
+Countess Guiccioli and her family, who had been exiled from the Roman
+States for Carbonarism, and who, for the present, had taken refuge at
+Florence.
+
+Shelley's thoughts turned at once, as they could not but do, to poor
+little Allegra, in her convent of Bagnacavallo. What was to become of her?
+Where would or could she be sent? or was she to be conveniently forgotten
+and left behind? He was off next day, the 3d; paid a flying visit to
+Clare, who was staying for her health at Leghorn, and arrived at Ravenna
+on the 6th.
+
+The miniature was finished and ready for him on his birthday. Mary, alone
+on that anniversary, was fain to look back over the past eventful seven
+years,--their joys, their sorrows, their many changes. Not long before,
+she had said, in a letter to Clare, "One is not gay, at least I am not,
+but peaceful, and at peace with all the world." The same tone
+characterises the entry in her journal for 4th August.
+
+ Shelley's birthday. Seven years are now gone; what changes! what a
+ life! We now appear tranquil, yet who knows what wind----but I will
+ not prognosticate evil; we have had enough of it. When Shelley came to
+ Italy I said, all is well, if it were permanent; it was more passing
+ than an Italian twilight. I now say the same. May it be a Polar day,
+ yet that, too, has an end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+AUGUST-NOVEMBER 1821
+
+
+From Bologna Shelley wrote to Mary an amusing account of his journey, so
+far. But this letter was speedily followed by another, written within a
+few hours of his arrival at Ravenna; a letter, this second one, to make
+Mary's blood run cold, although it is expressed with all the calmness and
+temperance that Shelley could command.
+
+ RAVENNA, _7th August 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAREST MARY--I arrived last night at 10 o'clock, and sate up
+ talking with Lord Byron until 5 this morning. I then went to sleep,
+ and now awake at 11, and having despatched my breakfast as quick as
+ possible, mean to devote the interval until 12, when the post departs,
+ to you.
+
+ Lord Byron is very well, and was delighted to see me. He has, in fact,
+ completely recovered his health, and lives a life totally the reverse
+ of that which he led at Venice. He has a permanent sort of _liaison_
+ with Contessa Guiccioli, who is now at Florence, and seems from her
+ letters to be a very amiable woman. She is waiting there until
+ something shall be decided as to their emigration to Switzerland or
+ stay in Italy, which is yet undetermined on either side. She was
+ compelled to escape from the Papal territory in great haste, as
+ measures had already been taken to place her in a convent, where she
+ would have been unrelentingly confined for life. The oppression of the
+ marriage contract, as existing in the laws and opinions of Italy,
+ though less frequently exercised, is far severer than that of England.
+ I tremble to think of what poor Emilia is destined to.
+
+ Lord Byron had almost destroyed himself in Venice; his state of
+ debility was such that he was unable to digest any food; he was
+ consumed by hectic fever, and would speedily have perished, but for
+ this attachment, which has reclaimed him from the excesses into which
+ he threw himself, from carelessness rather than taste. Poor fellow! he
+ is now quite well, and immersed in politics and literature. He has
+ given me a number of the most interesting details on the former
+ subject, but we will not speak of them in a letter. Fletcher is here,
+ and as if, like a shadow, he waxed and waned with the substance of his
+ master, Fletcher also has recovered his good looks, and from amidst
+ the unseasonable gray hairs a fresh harvest of flaxen locks has put
+ forth.
+
+ We talked a great deal of poetry and such matters last night, and, as
+ usual, differed, and I think more than ever. He affects to patronise a
+ system of criticism fit for the production of mediocrity, and,
+ although all his fine poems and passages have been produced in
+ defiance of this system, yet I recognise the pernicious effects of it
+ in the _Doge of Venice_, and it will cramp and limit his future
+ efforts, however great they may be, unless he gets rid of it. I have
+ read only parts of it, or rather, he himself read them to me, and gave
+ me the plan of the whole.
+
+ Allegra, he says, is grown very beautiful, but he complains that her
+ temper is violent and imperious. He has no intention of leaving her in
+ Italy; indeed, the thing is too improper in itself not to carry
+ condemnation along with it. Contessa Guiccioli, he says, is very fond
+ of her; indeed, I cannot see why she should not take care of it, if
+ she is to live as his ostensible mistress. All this I shall know more
+ of soon.
+
+ Lord Byron has also told me of a circumstance that shocks me
+ exceedingly, because it exhibits a degree of desperate and wicked
+ malice, for which I am at a loss to account. When I hear such things
+ my patience and my philosophy are put to a severe proof, whilst I
+ refrain from seeking out some obscure hiding-place, where the
+ countenance of man may never meet me more. It seems that _Elise_,
+ actuated either by some inconceivable malice for our dismissing her,
+ or bribed by my enemies, has persuaded the Hoppners of a story so
+ monstrous and incredible that they must have been prone to believe any
+ evil to have believed such assertions upon such evidence. Mr. Hoppner
+ wrote to Lord Byron to state this story as the reason why he declined
+ any further communications with us, and why he advised him to do the
+ same. Elise says that Claire was my mistress; that is very well, and
+ so far there is nothing new; all the world has heard so much, and
+ people may believe or not believe as they think good. She then
+ proceeds further to say that Claire was with child by me; that I gave
+ her the most violent medicine to procure abortion; that this not
+ succeeding she was brought to bed, and that I immediately tore the
+ child from her and sent it to the Foundling Hospital,--I quote Mr.
+ Hoppner's words,--and this is stated to have taken place in the winter
+ after we left Este. In addition, she says that both Claire and I
+ treated you in the most shameful manner; that I neglected and beat
+ you, and that Claire never let a day pass without offering you insults
+ of the most violent kind, in which she was abetted by me.
+
+ As to what Reviews and the world say, I do not care a jot, but when
+ persons who have known me are capable of conceiving of me--not that I
+ have fallen into a great error, as would have been the living with
+ Claire as my mistress--but that I have committed such unutterable
+ crimes as destroying or abandoning a child, and that my own! Imagine
+ my despair of good! Imagine how it is possible that one of so weak and
+ sensitive a nature as mine can run further the gauntlet through this
+ hellish society of men! _You_ should write to the Hoppners a letter
+ refuting the charge, in case you believe and know, and can prove that
+ it is false, stating the grounds and proof of your belief. I need not
+ dictate what you should say, nor, I hope, inspire you with warmth to
+ rebut a charge which you only can effectually rebut. If you will send
+ the letter to me here, I will forward it to the Hoppners. Lord Byron
+ is not up. I do not know the Hoppners' address, and I am anxious not
+ to lose a post.
+
+ P. B. S.
+
+Mary's feelings on the perusal of this letter may be faintly imagined by
+those who read it now, and who know what manner of woman she actually was.
+They are expressed, as far as they could be expressed, in the letter
+which, in accordance with Shelley's desire, and while still smarting under
+the first shock of grief and profound indignation, she wrote off to Mrs.
+Hoppner, and enclosed in a note to Shelley himself.
+
+ MARY TO SHELLEY.
+
+ MY DEAR SHELLEY--Shocked beyond all measure as I was, I instantly
+ wrote the enclosed. If the task be not too dreadful, pray copy it for
+ me; I cannot.
+
+ Read that part of your letter that contains the accusation. I tried,
+ but I could not write it. I think I could as soon have died. I send
+ also Elise's last letter: enclose it or not, as you think best.
+
+ I wrote to you with far different feelings last night, beloved friend,
+ our barque is indeed "tempest tost," but love me as you have ever
+ done, and God preserve my child to me, and our enemies shall not be
+ too much for us. Consider well if Florence be a fit residence for us.
+ I love, I own, to face danger, but I would not be imprudent.
+
+ Pray get my letter to Mrs. Hoppner copied for a thousand reasons.
+ Adieu, dearest! Take care of yourself--all yet is well. The shock for
+ me is over, and I now despise the slander; but it must not pass
+ uncontradicted. I sincerely thank Lord Byron for his kind
+ unbelief.--Affectionately yours,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+ Do not think me imprudent in mentioning E.'s[44] illness at Naples. It
+ is well to meet facts. They are as cunning as wicked. I have read over
+ my letter; it is written in haste, but it were as well that the first
+ burst of feeling should be expressed.
+
+
+ PISA, _10th August 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. HOPPNER--After a silence of nearly two years I address
+ you again, and most bitterly do I regret the occasion on which I now
+ write. Pardon me that I do not write in French; you understand English
+ well, and I am too much impressed to shackle myself in a foreign
+ language; even in my own my thoughts far outrun my pen, so that I can
+ hardly form the letters. I write to defend him to whom I have the
+ happiness to be united, whom I love and esteem beyond all living
+ creatures, from the foulest calumnies; and to you I write this, who
+ were so kind, and to Mr. Hoppner, to both of whom I indulged the
+ pleasing idea that I have every reason to feel gratitude. This is
+ indeed a painful task. Shelley is at present on a visit to Lord Byron
+ at Ravenna, and I received a letter from him to-day, containing
+ accounts that make my hand tremble so much that I can hardly hold the
+ pen. It tells me that Elise wrote to you, relating the most hideous
+ stories against him, and that you have believed them. Before I speak
+ of these falsehoods, permit me to say a few words concerning this
+ miserable girl. You well know that she formed an attachment with Paolo
+ when we proceeded to Rome, and at Naples their marriage was talked of.
+ We all tried to dissuade her; we knew Paolo to be a rascal, and we
+ thought so well of her. An accident led me to the knowledge that
+ without marrying they had formed a connection. She was ill; we sent
+ for a doctor, who said there was danger of a miscarriage, I would not
+ throw the girl on the world without in some degree binding her to this
+ man. We had them married at Sir R. A. Court's. She left us, turned
+ Catholic at Rome, married him, and then went to Florence. After the
+ disastrous death of my child we came to Tuscany. We have seen little
+ of them, but we have had knowledge that Paolo has formed a scheme of
+ extorting money from Shelley by false accusations. He has written him
+ threatening letters, saying that he would be the ruin of him, etc. We
+ placed them in the hands of a celebrated lawyer here, who has done
+ what he can to silence him. Elise has never interfered in this, and
+ indeed the other day I received a letter from her, entreating, with
+ great professions of love, that I would send her money. I took no
+ notice of this, but although I know her to be in evil hands, I would
+ not believe that she was wicked enough to join in his plans without
+ proof. And now I come to her accusations, and I must indeed summon all
+ my courage whilst I transcribe them, for tears will force their way,
+ and how can it be otherwise?
+
+ You know Shelley, you saw his face, and could you believe them?
+ Believe them only on the testimony of a girl whom you despised? I had
+ hoped that such a thing was impossible, and that although strangers
+ might believe the calumnies that this man propagated, none who had
+ ever seen my husband could for a moment credit them.
+
+ He says Claire was Shelley's mistress, that--upon my word I solemnly
+ assure you that I cannot write the words. I send you a part of
+ Shelley's letter that you may see what I am now about to refute, but I
+ had rather die than copy anything so vilely, so wickedly false, so
+ beyond all imagination fiendish.
+
+ But that you should believe it! That my beloved Shelley should stand
+ thus slandered in your minds--he, the gentlest and most humane of
+ creatures--is more painful to me, oh! far more painful than words can
+ express. Need I say that the union between my husband and myself has
+ ever been undisturbed? Love caused our first imprudence--love, which,
+ improved by esteem, a perfect trust one in the other, a confidence and
+ affection which, visited as we have been by severe calamities (have we
+ not lost two children?), has increased daily and knows no bounds. I
+ will add that Claire has been separated from us for about a year. She
+ lives with a respectable German family at Florence. The reasons for
+ this were obvious: her connection with us made her manifest as the
+ Miss Clairmont, the mother of Allegra; besides we live much alone, she
+ enters much into society there, and, solely occupied with the idea of
+ the welfare of her child, she wished to appear such that she may not
+ be thought in after times to be unworthy of fulfilling the maternal
+ duties. You ought to have paused before you tried to convince the
+ father of her child of such unheard-of atrocities on her part. If his
+ generosity and knowledge of the world had not made him reject the
+ slander with the ridicule it deserved, what irretrievable mischief you
+ would have occasioned her. Those who know me well believe my simple
+ word--it is not long ago that my father said in a letter to me that he
+ had never known me utter a falsehood,--but you, easy as you have been
+ to credit evil, who may be more deaf to truth--to you I swear by all
+ that I hold sacred upon heaven and earth, by a vow which I should die
+ to write if I affirmed a falsehood,--I swear by the life of my child,
+ by my blessed, beloved child, that I know the accusations to be false.
+ But I have said enough to convince you, and are you not convinced? Are
+ not my words the words of truth? Repair, I conjure you, the evil you
+ have done by retracting your confidence in one so vile as Elise, and
+ by writing to me that you now reject as false every circumstance of
+ her infamous tale.
+
+ You were kind to us, and I will never forget it; now I require
+ justice. You must believe me, and do me, I solemnly entreat you, the
+ justice to confess you do so.
+
+ MARY W. SHELLEY.
+
+ I send this letter to Shelley at Ravenna, that he may see it, for
+ although I ought, the subject is too odious to me to copy it. I wish
+ also that Lord Byron should see it; he gave no credit to the tale, but
+ it is as well that he should see how entirely fabulous it is.
+
+Shelley, meanwhile, never far from her in thought, and knowing only too
+well how acutely she would suffer from all this, was writing to her
+again.
+
+ SHELLEY TO MARY.
+
+ MY DEAREST MARY--I wrote to you yesterday, and I begin another letter
+ to-day without knowing exactly when I can send it, as I am told the
+ post only goes once a week. I daresay the subject of the latter half
+ of my letter gave you pain, but it was necessary to look the affair in
+ the face, and the only satisfactory answer to the calumny must be
+ given by you, and could be given by you alone. This is evidently the
+ source of the violent denunciations of the _Literary Gazette_, in
+ themselves contemptible enough, and only to be regarded as effects
+ which show us their cause, which, until we put off our mortal nature,
+ we never despise--that is, the belief of persons who have known and
+ seen you that you are guilty of crimes. A certain degree and a certain
+ kind of infamy is to be borne, and, in fact, is the best compliment
+ which an exalted nature can receive from a filthy world, of which it
+ is its hell to be a part, but this sort of thing exceeds the measure,
+ and even if it were only for the sake of our dear Percy, I would take
+ some pains to suppress it. In fact it shall be suppressed, even if I
+ am driven to the disagreeable necessity of prosecuting him before the
+ Tuscan tribunals....
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Write to me at Florence, where I shall remain a day at least, and send
+ me letters, or news of letters. How is my little darling? and how are
+ you, and how do you get on with your book? Be severe in your
+ corrections, and expect severity from me, your sincere admirer. I
+ flatter myself you have composed something unequalled in its kind, and
+ that, not content with the honours of your birth and your hereditary
+ aristocracy, you will add still higher renown to your name. Expect me
+ at the end of my appointed time. I do not think I shall be detained.
+ Is Claire with you? or is she coming? Have you heard anything of my
+ poor Emilia, from whom I got a letter the day of my departure, saying
+ that her marriage was deferred for a very short time, on account of
+ the illness of her Sposo? How are the Williams', and Williams
+ especially? Give my very kindest love to them.
+
+ Lord Byron has here splendid apartments in the house of his mistress's
+ husband, who is one of the richest men in Italy. _She_ is divorced,
+ with an allowance of 1200 crowns a year--a miserable pittance from a
+ man who has 120,000 a year. Here are two monkeys, five cats, eight
+ dogs, and ten horses, all of whom (except the horses) walk about the
+ house like the masters of it. Tita, the Venetian, is here, and
+ operates as my valet; a fine fellow, with a prodigious black beard,
+ and who has stabbed two or three people, and is one of the most
+ good-natured-looking fellows I ever saw.
+
+ We have good rumours of the Greeks here, and a Russian war. I hardly
+ wish the Russians to take any part in it. My maxim is with Aeschylus:
+ [Greek: to dyssebes--meta men pleiona tiktei, sphetera d'eikota
+ genna].
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ There is a Greek exercise for you. How should slaves produce anything
+ but tyranny, even as the seed produces the plant? Adieu, dear
+ Mary.--Yours affectionately,
+
+ S.
+
+At Ravenna there was only a weekly post. Shelley had to wait a long time
+for Mary's answer, and before it could reach him he was writing to her yet
+a third time. His mind was now full of Allegra. She was not to be left
+alone in Italy. Shelley, enlightened by Emilia Viviani, had been able to
+give Byron, on the subject of convents, such information as to "shake his
+faith in the purity of these receptacles." But no conclusions of any sort
+had been arrived at as to her future; and Shelley entreated Mary to rack
+her brains, to inquire of all her friends, to leave no stone unturned, if
+by any possibility she could find some fitting asylum, some safe home for
+the lovely child. He had been to see the little girl at her convent, and
+all readers of his letters know the description of the fairy creature,
+who, with her "contemplative seriousness, mixed with excessive vivacity,
+seemed a thing of a higher and a finer order" than the children around
+her; happy and well cared for, as far as he could judge; pale, but
+lovelier and livelier than ever, and full of childish glee and fun.
+
+At this point of his letter Mary's budget arrived, and Shelley continued
+as follows--
+
+ RAVENNA, _Thursday_.
+
+ I have received your letter with that to Mrs. Hoppner. I do not
+ wonder, my dearest friend, that you should have been moved. I was at
+ first, but speedily regained the indifference which the opinion of
+ anything or anybody, except our own consciousness, amply merits, and
+ day by day shall more receive from me. I have not recopied your
+ letter, such a measure would destroy its authenticity, but have given
+ it to Lord Byron, who has engaged to send it with his own comments to
+ the Hoppners. People do not hesitate, it seems, to make themselves
+ panders and accomplices to slander, for the Hoppners had exacted from
+ Lord Byron that these accusations should be concealed from _me_: Lord
+ Byron is not a man to keep a secret, good or bad, but in openly
+ confessing that he has not done so he must observe a certain delicacy,
+ and therefore wished to send the letter himself, and, indeed, this
+ adds weight to your representations. Have you seen the article in the
+ _Literary Gazette_ on me? They evidently allude to some story of this
+ kind. However cautious the Hoppners have been in preventing the
+ calumniated person from asserting his justification, you know too much
+ of the world not to be certain that this was the utmost limit of their
+ caution. So much for nothing.
+
+ Lord Byron is immediately coming to Pisa. He will set off the moment I
+ can get him a house. Who would have imagined this?... What think you
+ of remaining at Pisa? The Williams' would probably be induced to stay
+ there if we did; Hunt would certainly stay, at least this winter, near
+ us, should he emigrate at all; Lord Byron and his Italian friends
+ would remain quietly there; and Lord Byron has certainly a very great
+ regard for us. The regard of such a man is worth some of the tribute
+ we must pay to the base passions of humanity in any intercourse with
+ those within their circle; he is better worth it than those on whom we
+ bestow it from mere custom.
+
+ The Masons are there, and, as far as solid affairs are concerned, are
+ my friends. I allow this is an argument for Florence. Mrs. Mason's
+ perversity is very annoying to me, especially as Mr. Tighe is
+ seriously my friend. This circumstance makes me averse from that
+ intimate continuation of intercourse which, once having begun, I can
+ no longer avoid.
+
+ At Pisa I need not distil my water, if I _can_ distil it anywhere.
+ Last winter I suffered less from my painful disorder than the winter I
+ spent in Florence. The arguments for Florence you know, and they are
+ very weighty; judge (_I know you like the job_) which scale is
+ overbalanced. My greatest content would be utterly to desert all human
+ society. I would retire with you and our child to a solitary island in
+ the sea, would build a boat, and shut upon my retreat the flood-gates
+ of the world. I would read no reviews and talk with no authors. If I
+ dared trust my imagination, it would tell me that there are one or two
+ chosen companions besides yourself whom I should desire. But to this I
+ would not listen. Where two or three are gathered together the devil
+ is among them, and good far more than evil impulses, love far more
+ than hatred, has been to me, except as you have been its object, the
+ source of all sorts of mischief. So on this plan I would be _alone_,
+ and would devote either to oblivion or to future generations the
+ overflowings of a mind which, timely withdrawn from the contagion,
+ should be kept fit for no baser object. But this it does not appear
+ that we shall do. The other side of the alternative (for a medium
+ ought not to be adopted) is to form for ourselves a society of our own
+ class, as much as possible, in intellect or in feelings, and to
+ connect ourselves with the interests of that society. Our roots never
+ struck so deeply as at Pisa, and the transplanted tree flourishes not.
+ People who lead the lives which we led until last winter are like a
+ family of Wahabee Arabs pitching their tent in the midst of London. We
+ must do one thing or the other,--for yourself, for our child, for our
+ existence. The calumnies, the sources of which are probably deeper
+ than we perceive, have ultimately for object the depriving us of the
+ means of security and subsistence. You will easily perceive the
+ gradations by which calumny proceeds to pretext, pretext to
+ persecution, and persecution to the ban of fire and water. It is for
+ this, and not because this or that fool, or the whole court of fools,
+ curse and rail, that calumny is worth refuting or chastising.
+
+ P. B. S.
+
+"So much for nothing," indeed. When Byron made himself responsible for
+Mary's letter, it was, probably, without any definite intention of
+withholding it from those to whom it was addressed. He may well have
+wished to add to this glowing denial of his own insinuations some
+palliating personal explanation. When, in the previous March, Clare had
+protested against an Italian convent education for Allegra, he had sent
+her letter to the Hoppners with a sneer at the "excellent grace" with
+which these representations came from a woman of the writer's character
+and present way of life. And yet he knew Shelley,--knew him as the
+Hoppners could not do; he knew what Shelley had done for him, for Clare,
+and Allegra; and to how much slander and misrepresentation he had
+voluntarily submitted that they might go scot-free. Byron was,--and he
+knew it,--the last person who should have accepted or allowed others to
+accept this fresh scandal without proof and without inquiry. He was
+ashamed of the part he had played, and reluctant to confess to the
+Hoppners that he had been wrong, and that his words, as often happened,
+had been far in advance of his knowledge or his solid convictions; but his
+intentions were to do the best he could. And, satisfying himself with good
+intentions, he put off the unwelcome day until the occasion was past, and
+till, finally, the friend whose honour had been entrusted to his keeping
+was beyond his power to help or to harm. Shelley was dead; and how then
+explain to the Hoppners why the letter had not been sent before? It was
+"not worth while," probably, to revive the subject in order to vindicate a
+mere memory, nor yet to remove an unjust and cruel stigma from the
+character of those who survived. However it may have been, one thing is
+undoubted. Mary Shelley never received any answer to her letter of
+protest, which, after Byron's death, was found safe among his papers.
+
+One more note Shelley sent to Mary from Ravenna on the subject of the
+promised portrait. It would not seem that the miniature was actually
+despatched now, but as his return was so long delayed, the birthday plot
+had to be divulged.
+
+ RAVENNA, _Tuesday, 15th August 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAREST LOVE--I accept your kind present of your picture, and wish
+ you would get it prettily framed for me. I will wear, for your sake,
+ upon my heart this image which is ever present to my mind.
+
+ I have only two minutes to write; the post is just setting off. I
+ shall leave the place on Thursday or Friday morning. You would forgive
+ me for my longer stay if you knew the fighting I have had to make it
+ so short. I need not say where my own feelings impel me.
+
+ It still remains fixed that Lord Byron should come to Tuscany, and, if
+ possible, Pisa; but more of that to-morrow.--Your faithful and
+ affectionate
+
+ S.
+
+The foregoing painful episode was enough to fill Mary's mind during the
+fortnight she was alone. It was well for her that she was within easy
+reach of cheerful friends, yet, even as it was, she could not altogether
+escape from bitter thoughts. Clare was at Leghorn, and had to be told of
+everything. Mary could not but think of the relief it would be to them all
+if she were to marry; a remote possibility to which she probably alludes
+in the following letter, written at this time to Miss Curran--
+
+ MARY SHELLEY TO MISS CURRAN.
+
+ SAN GIULIANO, _17th August_.
+
+ MY DEAR MISS CURRAN--It gives me great pain to hear of your
+ ill-health. Will this hot summer conduce to a better state or not? I
+ hope anxiously, when I hear from you again, to learn that you are
+ better, having recovered from your weakness, and that you have no
+ return of your disorder. I should have answered your letter before,
+ but we have been in the confusion of moving. We are now settled in an
+ agreeable house at the Baths of San Giuliano, about four miles from
+ Pisa, under the shadow of mountains, and with delightful scenery
+ within a walk. We go on in our old manner, with no change. I have had
+ many changes for the worse; one might be for the better, but that is
+ nearly impossible. Our child is well and thriving, which is a great
+ comfort, and the Italian sky gives Shelley health, which is to him a
+ rare and substantial enjoyment. I did [not] receive the letter you
+ mention to have written in March, and you also have missed one of our
+ letters in which Shelley acknowledged the receipt of the drawings you
+ mention, and requested that the largest pyramid might be erected if
+ they could case it with white marble for L25. However, the whole had
+ better stand as I mentioned in my last; for, without the most rigorous
+ inspection, great cheating would take place, and no female could
+ detect them. When we visit Rome, we can do that which we wish. Many
+ thanks for your kindness, which has been very great. I would send you
+ on the books I mentioned, but we live out of the world, and I know of
+ no conveyance. Mr. Purniance says that he sent the life of your father
+ by sea to Rome, directed to you; so, doubtless, it is in the
+ custom-house there.
+
+ How enraged all our mighty rulers are at the quiet revolutions which
+ have taken place; it is said that some one said to the Grand Duke
+ here: "Ma richiedono una constituzione qui?" "Ebene, la daro subito"
+ was the reply; but he is not his own master, and Austria would take
+ care that that should not be the case; they say Austrian troops are
+ coming here, and the Tuscan ones will be sent to Germany. We take in
+ _Galignani_, and would send them to you if you liked. I do not know
+ what the expense would be, but I should think slight. If you
+ recommence painting, do not forget Beatrice. I wish very much for a
+ copy of that; you would oblige us greatly by making one. Pray let me
+ hear of your health. God knows when we shall be in Rome;
+ circumstances must direct, and they dance about like
+ will-o'-the-wisps, enticing and then deserting us. We must take care
+ not to be left in a bog. Adieu, take care of yourself. Believe in
+ Shelley's sincere wishes for your health, and in kind remembrances,
+ and in my being ever sincerely yours,
+
+ M. W. SHELLEY.
+
+ Clare desires (not remembrances, if they are not pleasant), however
+ she sends a proper message, and says she would be obliged to you, if
+ you let her have her picture, if you could find a mode of conveying
+ it....
+
+ Do you know we lose many letters, having spies (not Government ones)
+ about us in plenty; they made a desperate push to do us a desperate
+ mischief lately, but succeeded no further than to blacken us among the
+ English; so if you receive a fresh batch (or green bag) of scandal
+ against us, I assure you it is all a _lie_. Poor souls! we live
+ innocently, as you well know; if we did not, ten to one God would take
+ pity on us, and we should not be so unfortunate.
+
+Shelley's absence, though eventful, was, after all, a short one. In about
+a fortnight he was back again at the Bagni, and for a few weeks life was
+quiet.
+
+On the 18th of September Mary records--
+
+ Picnic on the Pugnano Mountains; music in the evening. Sleep there.
+
+On another occasion, wishing to find some tolerably cool seaside place
+where they might spend the next summer, they went,--the Shelleys and
+Clare,--on a two or three days' expedition of discovery to Spezzia, and
+were enchanted with the beauty of the bay. Clare had, shortly after, to
+return to her situation at Florence, but the Shelleys decided to winter at
+Pisa. They took a top flat in the "Tre Palazzi di Chiesa," on the Lung'
+Arno, and spent part of October in furnishing it. They took possession
+about the 25th; the Williams' coming, not many days later, to occupy a
+lower flat in the same house. At Lord Byron's request, the Shelleys had
+taken for him Casa Lanfranchi, the finest palace in the Lung' Arno, just
+opposite the house where they themselves were established. This close
+juxtaposition of abodes was likely to prove somewhat inconvenient, in case
+of Clare's occasional presence at Tre Palazzi. Her first visit, however,
+to which the following characteristic letter refers, was to the Masons at
+Casa Silva, and it came to an end just before Byron's arrival in Pisa.
+Clare had been staying with the Williams' at Pugnano.
+
+ CLARE TO MARY.
+
+ MY DEAR MARY--I arrived last night--won't you come and see me to-day?
+ The Williams' wish you to forward them Mr. Webb's answer, if possible,
+ to reach them by 2 o'clock afternoon to-day. If Mr. Webb says yes (you
+ will open his note), send Dominico with it to them, and he passing by
+ the Baths must order Pancani to be at Pugnano by 5 o'clock in the
+ afternoon. If there comes no letter from Mr. Webb, they will equally
+ come to you, and I wish you could also in that case contrive to get
+ Pancani ordered for them, for we forgot to arrange how that could be
+ done; if not, they will be there expecting, and perhaps get involved
+ for the next month. I wish you to be so good as to send me immediately
+ my large box and the clothes from the Busati, indeed all that you have
+ of mine, for I must arrange my boxes to get them _bollate_
+ immediately. Don't delay, and my band-box too. If you could of your
+ great bounty give me a sponge, I should be infinitely obliged to you.
+ Then, when it is dark, and the Williams' arrived, will you ask Mr.
+ Williams to be so good as to come and knock at Casa Silva, and I will
+ return to spend the evening with you? Shelley won't do to fetch me,
+ because he looks singular in the streets. But I wish he would come now
+ to give me some money, as I want to write to Livorno and arrange
+ everything. Later will be inconvenient for me. Kiss the chick for me,
+ and believe me, yours affectionately,
+
+ CLARE.
+
+
+ _Journal._--All October is left out, it seems.--We are at the Baths,
+ occupied with furnishing our house, copying my novel, etc. etc.
+
+Mary's intention was to devote any profits which might proceed from this
+work to the relief of her father's necessities, and the hope of being able
+to help him had stimulated her industry and energy while it eased her
+heart. She aimed at selling the copyright for L400, and Shelley opened
+negotiations to this effect with Ollier the publisher. His letter on the
+subject bears such striking testimony to the estimate he had formed of
+Mary's powers, and gives, besides, so complete a sketch of the novel
+itself, that it cannot be omitted here.
+
+ SHELLEY TO MR. OLLIER.
+
+ PISA, _25th September 1822_.
+
+ DEAR SIR--It will give me great pleasure if I can arrange the affair
+ of Mrs. Shelley's novel with you to her and your satisfaction. She has
+ a specific purpose in the sum which she instructed me to require, and,
+ although this purpose could not be answered without ready money, yet I
+ should find means to answer her wishes in that point if you could make
+ it convenient to pay one-third at Christmas, and give bills for the
+ other two-thirds at twelve and eighteen months. It would give me
+ peculiar satisfaction that you, rather than any other person, should
+ be the publisher of this work; it is the product of no slight labour,
+ and I flatter myself, of no common talent, I doubt not it will give no
+ less credit than it will receive from your names. I trust you know me
+ too well to believe that my judgment deliberately given in testimony
+ of the value of any production is influenced by motives of interest or
+ partiality.
+
+ The romance is called _Castruccio, Prince of Lucca_, and is founded,
+ not upon the novel of Machiavelli under that name, which substitutes a
+ childish fiction for the far more romantic truth of history, but upon
+ the actual story of his life. He was a person who, from an exile and
+ an adventurer, after having served in the wars of England and Flanders
+ in the reign of our Edward the Second, returned to his native city,
+ and liberating it from its tyrants, became himself its tyrant, and
+ died in the full splendour of his dominion, which he had extended over
+ the half of Tuscany. He was a little Napoleon, and with a dukedom
+ instead of an empire for his theatre, brought upon the same all the
+ passions and errors of his antitype. The chief interest of the romance
+ rests upon Euthanasia, his betrothed bride, whose love for him is only
+ equalled by her enthusiasm for the liberty of the Republic of
+ Florence, which is in some sort her country, and for that of Italy, to
+ which Castruccio is a devoted enemy, being an ally of the party of the
+ Emperor. This character is a masterpiece; and the keystone of the
+ drama, which is built up with admirable art, is the conflict between
+ these passions and these principles. Euthanasia, the last survivor of
+ a noble house, is a feudal countess, and her castle is the scene of
+ the exhibition of the knightly manners of the time. The character of
+ Beatrice, the prophetess, can only be done justice to in the very
+ language of the author. I know nothing in Walter Scott's novels which
+ at all approaches to the beauty and the sublimity of this--creation, I
+ may say, for it is perfectly original; and, although founded upon the
+ ideas and manners of the age which is represented, is wholly without
+ a similitude in any fiction I ever read. Beatrice is in love with
+ Castruccio, and dies; for the romance, although interspersed with much
+ lighter matter, is deeply tragic, and the shades darken and gather as
+ the catastrophe approaches. All the manners, customs of the age, are
+ introduced; the superstitions, the heresies, and the religious
+ persecutions are displayed; the minutest circumstance of Italian
+ manners in that age is not omitted; and the whole seems to me to
+ constitute a living and moving picture of an age almost forgotten. The
+ author visited the scenery which she describes in person; and one or
+ two of the inferior characters are drawn from her own observation of
+ the Italians, for the national character shows itself still in certain
+ instances under the same forms as it wore in the time of Dante. The
+ novel consists, as I told you before, of three volumes, each at least
+ equal to one of the _Tales of my Landlord_, and they will be very soon
+ ready to be sent.
+
+No arrangement, however, was come to at this time, and early in January
+Mary wrote to her father, offering the work to him, and asking him, if he
+accepted it, to make a bargain concerning it with a publisher.
+
+Godwin accepted the offer, and undertook the responsibility, in a letter
+from which the following is an extract--
+
+ _31st January 1822._
+
+ I am much gratified by your letter of the 11th, which reached me on
+ Saturday last; it is truly generous of you to desire that I would make
+ use of the produce of your novel. But what can I say to it? It is
+ against the course of nature, unless, indeed, you were actually in
+ possession of a fortune.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ I said in the preface to _Mandeville_ there were two or three works
+ further that I should be glad to finish before I died. If I make use
+ of the money from you in the way you suggest, that may enable me to
+ complete my present work.
+
+The MS. was, accordingly, despatched to England, but was not published
+till many months later.
+
+_Valperga_ (as it was afterwards called) was a book of much power and more
+promise; very remarkable when the author's age is taken into
+consideration. Apart from local colouring, the interest of the tale turns
+on the development of the character--naturally powerful and disposed to
+good, but spoilt by popularity and success, and unguided by principle--of
+Castruccio himself; and on the contrast between him and Euthanasia, the
+noble and beautiful woman who sacrifices her possessions, her hopes, and
+her affections to the cause of fidelity and patriotism.
+
+Beatrice, the prophetess, is one of those gifted but fated souls, who,
+under the persuasion that they are supernaturally inspired, mistake the
+ordinary impulses of human nature for Divine commands, and, finding their
+mistake, yet encourage themselves in what they know to be delusion till
+the end,--a tragic end.
+
+There are some remarkable descriptive passages, especially one where the
+wandering Beatrice comes suddenly upon a house in a dreary landscape which
+she knows, although she has never seen it before except in a haunting
+dream; every detail of it is horribly familiar, and she is paralysed by
+the sense of imminent calamity, which, in fact, bursts upon her directly
+afterwards.
+
+Euthanasia dies at sea, and the account of the running down and wreck of
+her ship is a curious, almost prophetic, foreshadowing of the calamity by
+which, all too soon, Shelley was to lose his life.
+
+ The wind changed to a more northerly direction during the night, and
+ the land-breeze of the morning filled their sails, so that, although
+ slowly, they dropt down southward. About noon they met a Pisan vessel,
+ who bade them beware of a Genoese squadron, which was cruising off
+ Corsica; so they bore in nearer to the shore. At sunset that day a
+ fierce sirocco arose, accompanied by thunder and lightning, such as is
+ seldom seen during the winter season. Presently they saw huge dark
+ columns descending from heaven, and meeting the sea, which boiled
+ beneath; they were borne on by the storm, and scattered by the wind.
+ The rain came down in sheets, and the hail clattered, as it fell to
+ its grave in the ocean; the ocean was lashed into such waves that,
+ many miles inland, during the pauses of the wind, the hoarse and
+ constant murmurs of the far-off sea made the well-housed landsman
+ mutter one more prayer for those exposed to its fury.
+
+ Such was the storm, as it was seen from shore. Nothing more was ever
+ known of the Sicilian vessel which bore Euthanasia. It never reached
+ its destined port, nor were any of those on board ever after seen. The
+ sentinels who watched near Vado, a town on the sea-beach of the
+ Maremma, found on the following day that the waves had washed on shore
+ some of the wrecks of a vessel; they picked up a few planks and a
+ broken mast, round which, tangled with some of its cordage, was a
+ white silk handkerchief, such a one as had bound the tresses of
+ Euthanasia the night that she had embarked; and in its knot were a few
+ golden hairs.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+To follow the fate of Mary's novel, it has been necessary somewhat to
+anticipate the history, which is resumed in the next chapter, with the
+journal and letters of the latter part of 1821.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+NOVEMBER 1821-APRIL 1822
+
+
+ _Journal, Thursday, November 1._--Go to Florence. Copy. Ride with the
+ Guiccioli. Albe arrives.
+
+ _Sunday, November 4._--The Williams' arrive. Copy. Call on the
+ Guiccioli.
+
+ _Thursday, November 15._--Copy. Read _Caleb Williams_ to Jane. Ride
+ with the Guiccioli. Shelley goes on translating Spinoza with Edward.
+ Medwin arrives. Taafe calls. Argyropulo calls. Good news from the
+ Greeks.
+
+ _Tuesday, November 28._--Ride with the Guiccioli. Suffer much with
+ rheumatism in my head.
+
+ _Wednesday, November 29._--I mark this day because I begin my Greek
+ again, and that is a study that ever delights me. I do not feel the
+ bore of it, as in learning another language, although it be so
+ difficult, it so richly repays one; yet I read little, for I am not
+ well. Shelley and the Williams go to Leghorn; they dine with us
+ afterwards with Medwin. Write to Clare.
+
+ _Thursday, November 30._--Correct the novel. Read a little Greek. Not
+ well. Ride with the Guiccioli. The Count Pietro (Gamba) in the
+ evening.
+
+
+ MRS. SHELLEY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ PISA, _30th November 1821_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Although having much to do be a bad excuse for
+ not writing to you, yet you must in some sort admit this plea on my
+ part. Here we are in Pisa, having furnished very nice apartments for
+ ourselves, and what is more, paid for the furniture out of the fruits
+ of two years' economy, we are at the top of the Tre Palazzi di Chiesa.
+ I daresay you know the house, next door to La Scoto's house on the
+ north side of Lung' Arno; but the rooms we inhabit are south, and look
+ over the whole country towards the sea, so that we are entirely out of
+ the bustle and disagreeable _puzzi_, etc., of the town, and hardly
+ know that we are so enveloped until we descend into the street. The
+ Williams' have been less lucky, though they have followed our example
+ in furnishing their own house, but, renting it of Mr. Webb, they have
+ been treated scurvily. So here we live, Lord Byron just opposite to us
+ in Casa Lanfranchi (the late Signora Felichi's house). So Pisa, you
+ see, has become a little nest of singing birds. You will be both
+ surprised and delighted at the work just about to be published by him;
+ his _Cain_, which is in the highest style of imaginative poetry. It
+ made a great impression upon me, and appears almost a revelation, from
+ its power and beauty. Shelley rides with him; I, of course, see little
+ of him. The lady _whom he serves_ is a nice pretty girl without
+ pretensions, good hearted and amiable; her relations were banished
+ Romagna for Carbonarism.
+
+ What do you know of Hunt? About two months ago he wrote to say that on
+ 21st October he should quit England, and we have heard nothing more of
+ him in any way; I expect some day he and six children will drop in
+ from the clouds, trusting that God will temper the wind to the shorn
+ lamb. Pray when you write, tell us everything you know concerning him.
+ Do you get any intelligence of the Greeks? Our worthy countrymen take
+ part against them in every possible way, yet such is the spirit of
+ freedom, and such the hatred of these poor people for their
+ oppressors, that I have the warmest hopes--[Greek: mantis eim' esthlon
+ agonon]. Mavrocordato is there, justly revered for the sacrifice he
+ has made of his whole fortune to the cause, and besides for his
+ firmness and talents. If Greece be free, Shelley and I have vowed to
+ go, perhaps to settle there, in one of those beautiful islands where
+ earth, ocean, and sky form the paradise. You will, I hope, tell us all
+ the news of our friends when you write. I see no one that you know. We
+ live in our usual retired way, with few friends and no acquaintances.
+ Clare is returned to her usual residence, and our tranquillity is
+ unbroken in upon, except by those winds, sirocco or tramontana, which
+ now and then will sweep over the ocean of one's mind and disturb or
+ cloud its surface. Since this must be a double letter, I save myself
+ the trouble of copying the enclosed, which was a part of a letter
+ written to you a month ago, but which I did not send. Will you attend
+ to my requests? Every day increases my anxiety concerning the desk. Do
+ have the goodness to pack it off as soon as you can.
+
+ Shelley was at your hive yesterday; it is as dirty and busy as ever,
+ so people live in the same narrow circle of space and thought, while
+ time goes on, not as a racehorse, but a "six inside dilly," and puts
+ them down softly at their journey's end; while they have slept and
+ ate, and _ecco tutto_. With this piece of morality, dear Mrs.
+ Gisborne, I end. Shelley begs every remembrance of his to be joined
+ with mine to Mr. Gisborne and Henry.--Ever yours,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+ And now, my dear Mrs. Gisborne, I have a great favour to ask of you.
+ Ollier writes to say that he has placed our two desks in the hands of
+ a merchant of the city, and that they are to come--God knows when!
+ Now, as we sent for them two years ago, and are tired of waiting, will
+ you do us the favour to get them out of his hands, and to send them
+ without delay? If they can be sent without being opened, send them _in
+ statu quo_; if they must be opened, do not send the smallest but get a
+ key (being a patent lock a key will cost half a guinea) made for the
+ largest and send it, and return the other to Peacock. If you send the
+ desk, will you send with it the following things?--A few copies of all
+ Shelley's works, particularly of the second edition of the _Cenci_, my
+ mother's posthumous works, and _Letters from Norway_ from Peacock, if
+ you can, but do not delay the box for them.
+
+
+ _Journal, Sunday, December 2._--Read the _History of Shipwrecks_. Read
+ Herodotus with Shelley. Ride with La Guiccioli. Pietro and her in the
+ evening.
+
+ _Monday, December 3._--Write letters. Read Herodotus with Shelley.
+ Finish _Caleb Williams_ to Jane. Taafe calls. He says that his Turk is
+ a very moral man, for that when he began a scandalous story he
+ interrupted him immediately, saying, "Ah! we must never speak thus of
+ our neighbours!" Taafe would do well to take the hint.
+
+ _Thursday, December 6._--Read Homer. Walk with Williams. Spend the
+ evening with them. Call on T. Guiccioli with Jane, while Taafe amuses
+ Shelley and Edward. Read Tacitus. A dismal day.
+
+ _Friday, December 7._--Letter from Hunt and Bessy. Walk with Shelley.
+ Buy furniture for them, etc. Walk with Edward and Jane to the garden,
+ and return with T. Guiccioli in the carriage. Edward reads the
+ _Shipwreck of the Wager_ to us in the evening.
+
+ _Saturday, December 8._--Get up late and talk with Shelley. The
+ Williams and Medwin to dinner. Walk with Edward and Jane in the
+ garden. Return with T. Guiccioli. T. G. and Pietro in the evening.
+ Write to Clare. Read Tacitus.
+
+ _Sunday, December 9._--Go to church at Dr. Nott's. Walk with Edward
+ and Jane in the garden. In the evening first Pietro and Teresa,
+ afterwards go to the Williams'.
+
+ _Monday, December 10._--Out shopping. Walk with the Williams and T.
+ Guiccioli to the garden. Medwin at tea. Afterwards we are alone, and
+ after reading a little Herodotus, Shelley reads Chaucer's _Flower and
+ the Leaf_, and then Chaucer's _Dream_ to me. A divine, cold,
+ tramontana day.
+
+ _Monday, January 14._--Read _Emile_. Call on T. Guiccioli and see Lord
+ Byron. Trelawny arrives.
+
+Edward John Trelawny, whose subsequent history was to be closely bound up
+with that of Shelley and of Mrs. Shelley, was of good Cornish family, and
+had led a wandering life, full of romantic adventure. He had become
+acquainted with Williams and Medwin in Switzerland a year before, since
+which he had been in Paris and London. Tired of a town life and of
+society, and in order to "maintain the just equilibrium between the body
+and the brain," he had determined to pass the next winter hunting and
+shooting in the wilds of the Maremma, with a Captain Roberts and
+Lieutenant Williams. For the exercise of his brain, he proposed passing
+the summer with Shelley and Byron, boating in the Mediterranean, as he had
+heard that they proposed doing. Neither of the poets were as yet
+personally known to him, but he had lost no time in seeking their
+acquaintance. On the very evening of his arrival in Pisa he repaired to
+the Tre Palazzi, where, in the Williams' room, he first saw Shelley, and
+was struck speechless with astonishment.
+
+ Was it possible this mild-looking beardless boy could be the veritable
+ monster at war with all the world? Excommunicated by the Fathers of
+ the Church, deprived of his civil rights by the fiat of a grim Lord
+ Chancellor, discarded by every member of his family, and denounced by
+ the rival sages of our literature as the founder of a Satanic school?
+ I could not believe it; it must be a hoax.
+
+But presently, when Shelley was led to talk on a theme that interested
+him--the works of Calderon,--his marvellous powers of mind and command of
+language held Trelawny spell-bound: "After this touch of his quality," he
+says, "I no longer doubted his identity."
+
+Mrs. Shelley appeared soon after, and the visitor looked with lively
+curiosity at the daughter of William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft.
+
+ Such a rare pedigree of genius was enough to interest me in her,
+ irrespective of her own merits as an authoress. The most striking
+ feature in her face was her calm, gray eyes; she was rather under the
+ English standard of woman's height, very fair and light-haired; witty,
+ social, and animated in the society of friends, though mournful in
+ solitude; like Shelley, though in a minor degree, she had the power of
+ expressing her thoughts in varied and appropriate words, derived from
+ familiarity with the works of our vigorous old writers. Neither of
+ them used obsolete or foreign words. This command of our language
+ struck me the more as contrasted with the scanty vocabulary used by
+ ladies in society, in which a score of poor hackneyed phrases suffice
+ to express all that is felt or considered proper to reveal.[45]
+
+Mary's impressions of the new-comer may be gathered from her journal and
+her subsequent letter to Mrs. Gisborne.
+
+ _Journal, Saturday, January 19._--Copy. Walk with Jane. The Opera in
+ the evening. Trelawny is extravagant--_un giovane
+ stravagante_,--partly natural, and partly, perhaps, put on, but it
+ suits him well, and if his abrupt but not unpolished manners be
+ assumed, they are nevertheless in unison with his Moorish face (for he
+ looks Oriental yet not Asiatic), his dark hair, his Herculean form;
+ and then there is an air of extreme good nature which pervades his
+ whole countenance, especially when he smiles, which assures me that
+ his heart is good. He tells strange stories of himself, horrific ones,
+ so that they harrow one up, while with his emphatic but unmodulated
+ voice, his simple yet strong language, he pourtrays the most
+ frightful situations; then all these adventures took place between the
+ ages of thirteen and twenty.
+
+ I believe them now I see the man, and, tired with the everyday
+ sleepiness of human intercourse, I am glad to meet with one who, among
+ other valuable qualities, has the rare merit of interesting my
+ imagination. The _crew_ and Medwin dine with us.
+
+ _Sunday, January 27._--Read Homer. Walk. Dine at the Williams'. The
+ Opera in the evening. Ride with T. Guiccioli.
+
+ _Monday, January 28._--The Williams breakfast with us. Go down Bocca
+ d'Arno in the boat with Shelley and Jane. Edward and E. Trelawny meet
+ us there; return in the gig; they dine with us; very tired.
+
+ _Tuesday, January 29._--Read Homer and Tacitus. Ride with T.
+ Guiccioli. E. Trelawny and Medwin to dinner. The Baron Lutzerode in
+ the evening.
+
+ But as the torrent widens towards the ocean,
+ We ponder deeply on each past emotion.
+
+ Read the first volume of the _Pirate_.
+
+ _Sunday, February 3._--Read Homer. Walk to the garden with Jane.
+ Return with Medwin to dinner. Trelawny in the evening. A wild day and
+ night, some clouds in the sky in the morning, but they clear away. A
+ north wind.
+
+ _Monday, February 4._--Breakfast with the Williams'. Edward, Jane, and
+ Trelawny go to Leghorn. Walk with Jane. Southey's letter concerning
+ Lord Byron. Write to Clare. In the evening the Gambas and Taafe.
+
+ _Thursday, February 7._--Read Homer, Tacitus, and _Emile_. Shelley and
+ Edward depart for La Spezzia. Walk with Jane, and to the Opera with
+ her in the evening. With E. Trelawny afterwards to Mrs. Beauclerc's
+ ball. During a long, long evening in mixed society how often do one's
+ sensations change, and, swiftly as the west wind drives the shadows of
+ clouds across the sunny hill or the waving corn, so swift do
+ sensations pass, painting--yet, oh! not disfiguring--the serenity of
+ the mind. It is then that life seems to weigh itself, and hosts of
+ memories and imaginations, thrown into one scale, make the other kick
+ the beam. You remember what you have felt, what you have dreamt; yet
+ you dwell on the shadowy side, and lost hopes and death, such as you
+ have seen it, seem to cover all things with a funeral pall.
+
+ The time that was, is, and will be, presses upon you, and, standing
+ the centre of a moving circle, you "slide giddily as the world reels."
+ You look to heaven, and would demand of the everlasting stars that the
+ thoughts and passions which are your life may be as ever-living as
+ they. You would demand of the blue empyrean that your mind might be as
+ clear as it, and that the tears which gather in your eyes might be the
+ shower that would drain from its profoundest depths the springs of
+ weakness and sorrow. But where are the stars? Where the blue empyrean?
+ A ceiling clouds that, and a thousand swift consuming lights supply
+ the place of the eternal ones of heaven. The enthusiast suppresses her
+ tears, crushes her opening thoughts, and.... But all is changed; some
+ word, some look excite the lagging blood, laughter dances in the eyes,
+ and the spirits rise proportionably high.
+
+ The Queen is all for revels, her light heart,
+ Unladen from the heaviness of state,
+ Bestows itself upon delightfulness.
+
+ _Friday, February 8._--Sometimes I awaken from my visionary monotony,
+ and my thoughts flow until, as it is exquisite pain to stop the
+ flowing of the blood, so is it painful to check expression and make
+ the overflowing mind return to its usual channel. I feel a kind of
+ tenderness to those, whoever they may be (even though strangers), who
+ awaken the train and touch a chord so full of harmony and thrilling
+ music, when I would tear the veil from this strange world, and pierce
+ with eagle eyes beyond the sun; when every idea, strange and
+ changeful, is another step in the ladder by which I would climb....
+
+ Read _Emile_. Jane dines with me, walk with her. E. Trelawny and Jane
+ in the evening. Trelawny tells us a number of amusing stories of his
+ early life. Read third canto of _L'Inferno_.
+
+ They say that Providence is shown by the extraction that may be ever
+ made of good from evil, that we draw our virtues from our faults. So I
+ am to thank God for making me weak. I might say, "Thy will be done,"
+ but I cannot applaud the permitter of self-degradation, though dignity
+ and superior wisdom arise from its bitter and burning ashes.
+
+ _Saturday, February 9._--Read _Emile_. Walk with Jane, and ride with
+ T. Guiccioli. Dine with Jane. Taafe and T. Medwin call. I retire with
+ E. Trelawny, who amuses me as usual by the endless variety of his
+ adventures and conversation.
+
+
+ MARY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ PISA, _9th February 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Not having heard from you, I am anxious about
+ my desk. It would have been a great convenience to me if I could have
+ received it at the beginning of the winter, but now I should like it
+ as soon as possible. I hope that it is out of Ollier's hands. I have
+ before said what I would have done with it. If both desks can be sent
+ without being opened, let them be sent; if not, give the small one
+ back to Peacock. Get a key made for the larger, and send it, I entreat
+ you, by the very next vessel. This key will cost half a guinea, and
+ Ollier will not give you the money, but give me credit for it, I
+ entreat you. I pray now let me have the desk as soon as possible.
+ Shelley is now gone to Spezzia to get houses for our colony for the
+ summer.
+
+ It will be a large one, too large, I am afraid, for unity; yet I hope
+ not. There will be Lord Byron, who will have a large and beautiful
+ boat built on purpose by some English navy officers at Genoa. There
+ will be the Countess Guiccioli and her brother; the Williams', whom
+ you know; Trelawny, a kind of half-Arab Englishman, whose life has
+ been as changeful as that of Anastasius, and who recounts the
+ adventures as eloquently and as well as the imagined Greek. He is
+ clever; for his moral qualities I am yet in the dark; he is a strange
+ web which I am endeavouring to unravel. I would fain learn if
+ generosity is united to impetuousness, probity of spirit to his
+ assumption of singularity and independence. He is 6 feet high, raven
+ black hair, which curls thickly and shortly, like a Moor's, dark gray
+ expressive eyes, overhanging brows, upturned lips, and a smile which
+ expresses good nature and kindheartedness. His shoulders are high,
+ like an Oriental's, his voice is monotonous, yet emphatic, and his
+ language, as he relates the events of his life, energetic and simple,
+ whether the tale be one of blood and horror, or of irresistible
+ comedy. His company is delightful, for he excites me to think, and if
+ any evil shade the intercourse, that time will unveil--the sun will
+ rise or night darken all. There will be, besides, a Captain Roberts,
+ whom I do not know, a very rough subject, I fancy,--a famous angler,
+ etc. We are to have a small boat, and now that those first divine
+ spring days are come (you know them well), the sky clear, the sun hot,
+ the hedges budding, we sitting without a fire and the windows open, I
+ begin to long for the sparkling waves, the olive-coloured hills and
+ vine-shaded pergolas of Spezzia. However, it would be madness to go
+ yet. Yet as _ceppo_ was bad, we hope for a good _pasqua_, and if April
+ prove fine, we shall fly with the swallows. The Opera here has been
+ detestable. The English Sinclair is the _primo tenore_, and acquits
+ himself excellently, but the Italians, after the first, have enviously
+ selected such operas as give him little or nothing to do. We have
+ English here, and some English balls and parties, to which I
+ (_mirabile dictu_) go sometimes. We have Taafe, who bores us out of
+ our senses when he comes, telling a young lady that her eyes shed
+ flowers--why therefore should he send her any? I have sent my novel to
+ Papa. I long to hear some news of it, as, with an author's vanity, I
+ want to see it in print, and hear the praises of my friends. I should
+ like, as I said when you went away, a copy of _Matilda_. It might come
+ out with the desk. I hope as the town fills to hear better news of
+ your plans, we long to hear from you. What does Henry do? How many
+ times has he been in love?--Ever yours,
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+ Shelley would like to see the review of the _Prometheus_ in the
+ _Quarterly_.
+
+
+ _Thursday, February 14._--Read Homer and _Anastasius_. Walk with the
+ Williams' in the evening.... "Nothing of us but what must suffer a
+ sea-change."
+
+This entry marks the day to which Mary referred in a letter written more
+than a year later, where she says--
+
+ A year ago Trelawny came one afternoon in high spirits with news
+ concerning the building of the boat, saying, "Oh! we must all embark,
+ all live aboard; we will all 'suffer a sea-change.'" And dearest
+ Shelley was delighted with the quotation, saying that he would have it
+ for the motto for his boat.
+
+Little did they think, in their lightness of spirit, that in another year
+the motto of the boat would serve for the inscription on Shelley's tomb.
+
+ _Journal, Monday, February 18._--Read Homer. Walk with the Williams'.
+ Jane, Trelawny, and Medwin in the evening.[46]
+
+ _Monday, February 25._--What a mart this world is? Feelings,
+ sentiments,--more invaluable than gold or precious stones is the coin,
+ and what is bought? Contempt, discontent, and disappointment, unless,
+ indeed, the mind be loaded with drearier memories. And what say the
+ worldly to this? Use Spartan coin, pay away iron and lead alone, and
+ store up your precious metal. But alas! from nothing, nothing comes,
+ or, as all things seem to degenerate, give lead and you will receive
+ clay,--the most contemptible of all lives is where you live in the
+ world, and none of your passions or affections are brought into
+ action. I am convinced I could not live thus, and as Sterne says that
+ in solitude he would worship a tree, so in the world I should attach
+ myself to those who bore the semblance of those qualities which I
+ admire. But it is not this that I want; let me love the trees, the
+ skies, and the ocean, and that all-encompassing spirit of which I may
+ soon become a part,--let me in my fellow-creature love that which is,
+ and not fix my affection on a fair form endued with imaginary
+ attributes; where goodness, kindness, and talent are, let me love and
+ admire them at their just rate, neither adorning nor diminishing, and
+ above all, let me fearlessly descend into the remotest caverns of my
+ own mind; carry the torch of self-knowledge into its dimmest recesses;
+ but too happy if I dislodge any evil spirit, or enshrine a new deity
+ in some hitherto uninhabited nook.
+
+ Read _Wrongs of Women_ and Homer. Clare departs. Walk with Jane and
+ ride with T. Guiccioli. T. G. dines with us.
+
+ _Thursday, February 28._--Take leave of the Argyropolis. Walk with
+ Shelley. Ride with T. Guiccioli. Read letters. Spend the evening at
+ the Williams'. Trelawny there.
+
+ _Friday, March 1._--An embassy. Walk. My first Greek lesson. Walk with
+ Edward. In the evening work.
+
+ _Sunday, March 3._--A note to, and a visit from, Dr. Nott. Go to
+ church. Walk. The Williams' and Trelawny to dinner.
+
+Mary's experiments in the way of church-going, so new a thing in her
+experience, and so little in accordance with Shelley's habits of thought
+and action, excited some surprise and comment. Hogg, Shelley's early
+friend, who heard of it from Mrs. Gisborne, now in England, was
+especially shocked. In a letter to Mary, Mrs. Gisborne remarked, "Your
+friend Hogg is _molto scandalizzato_ to hear of your weekly visits to the
+_piano di sotto_" (the services were held on the ground floor of the Tre
+Palazzi).
+
+The same letter asks for news of Emilia Viviani. Mrs. Gisborne had heard
+that she was married, and feared she had been sacrificed to a man whom she
+describes as "that insipid, sickening Italian mortal, Danieli the lawyer."
+She proceeds to say--
+
+ We invited Varley one evening to meet Hogg, who was curious to see a
+ man really believing in astrology in the nineteenth century. Varley,
+ as usual, was not sparing of his predictions. We talked of Shelley
+ without mentioning his name; Varley was curious, and being informed by
+ Hogg of his exact age, but describing his person as short and
+ corpulent, and himself as a _bon vivant_, Varley amused us with the
+ following remarks: "Your friend suffered from ill-fortune in May or
+ June 1815. Vexatious affairs on the 2d and 14th of June, or perhaps
+ latter end of May 1820. The following year, disturbance about a lady.
+ Again, last April, at 10 at night, or at noon, disturbance about a
+ bouncing stout lady, and others. At six years of age, noticed by
+ ladies and gentlemen for learning. In July 1799, beginning of charges
+ made against him. In September 1800, at noon, or dusk, very violent
+ charges. Scrape at fourteen years of age. Eternal warfare against
+ parents and public opinion, and a great blow-up every seven years till
+ death," etc. etc. _Is all this true?_
+
+Not a little amused, Mary answered her friend as follows--
+
+ PISA, _7th March 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--I am very sorry that you have so much trouble
+ with my commissions, and vainly, too! _ma che vuole?_ Ollier will not
+ give you the money, and we are, to tell you the truth, too poor at
+ present to send you a cheque upon our banker; two or three
+ circumstances having caused
+
+ That climax of all human ills,
+ The inflammation of our weekly bills.
+
+ But far more than that, we have not touched a quattrino of our
+ Christmas quarter, since debts in England and other calls swallowed it
+ entirely up. For the present, therefore, we must dispense with those
+ things I asked you for. As for the desk, we received last post from
+ Ollier (without a line) the bill of lading that he talks of, and, _si
+ Dio vuole_, we shall receive it safe; the vessel in which they were
+ shipped is not yet arrived. The worst of keeping on with Ollier
+ (though it is the best, I believe, after all) is that you will never
+ be able to make anything of his accounts, until you can compare the
+ number of copies in hand with his account of their sale. As for my
+ novel, I shipped it off long ago to my father, telling him to make the
+ best of it; and by the way in which he answered my letter, I fancy he
+ thinks he can make something of it. This is much better than Ollier,
+ for I should never have got a penny from him; and, moreover, he is a
+ very bad bookseller to publish with--_ma basta poi_, with all these
+ _seccaturas_.
+
+ Poor dear Hunt, you will have heard by this time of the disastrous
+ conclusion of his third embarkment; he is to try a third time in
+ April, and if he does not succeed then, we must say that the sea is
+ _un vero precipizio_, and let him try land. By the bye, why not
+ consult Varley on the result? I have tried the _Sors Homeri_ and the
+ _Sors Virgilii_; the first says (I will write this Greek better, but I
+ thought that Mr. Gisborne could read the Romaic writing, and I now
+ quite forget what it was)--
+
+ [Greek: Elomen, teios moi adelpheon allos epephnen.
+ hos d'opot' Iasioni euplokamos Demeter.
+ Dourateon megan hippon, hoth' heiato pantes aristoi.]
+
+ Which first seems to say that he will come, though his brother may be
+ prosecuted for a libel. Of the second, I can make neither head nor
+ tail; and the third is as oracularly obscure as one could wish, for
+ who these great people are who sat in a wooden horse, _chi lo sa_?
+ Virgil, except the first line, which is unfavourable, is as
+ enigmatical as Homer--
+
+ Fulgores nunc horrificos, sonitumque, metumque
+ Tum leves calamos, et rasae hastilia virgae
+ Connexosque angues, ipsamque in pectore divae.
+
+ But to speak of predictions or anteductions, some of Varley's are
+ curious enough: "Ill-fortune in May or June 1815." No; it was then
+ that he arranged his income; there was no ill except health, _al
+ solito_, at that time. The particular days of the 2d and 14th of June
+ 1820 were not ill, but the whole time was disastrous. It was then we
+ were alarmed by Paolo's attack and disturbance. About a lady in the
+ winter of last year, enough, God knows! Nothing particular about a fat
+ bouncing lady at 10 at night: and indeed things got more quiet in
+ April. In July 1799 Shelley was only seven years of age. "A great
+ blow-up every seven years." Shelley is not at home; when he returns I
+ will ask him what happened when he was fourteen. In his twenty-second
+ year we made our _scappatura_; at twenty-eight and twenty-nine, a good
+ deal of discomfort on a certain point, but it hardly amounted to a
+ blow-up. Pray ask Varley also about me.
+
+ So Hogg is shocked that, for good neighbourhood's sake, I visited the
+ _piano di sotto_; let him reassure himself, since instead of a weekly,
+ it was only a monthly visit; in fact, after going three times I stayed
+ away until I heard he was going away. He preached against atheism,
+ and, they said, against Shelley. As he invited me himself to come,
+ this appeared to me very impertinent; so I wrote to him, to ask him
+ whether he intended any personal allusion, but he denied the charge
+ most entirely. This affair, as you may guess, among the English at
+ Pisa made a great noise; the gossip here is of course out of all
+ bounds, and some people have given them something to talk about. I
+ have seen little of it all; but that which I have seen makes me long
+ most eagerly for some sea-girt isle, where with Shelley, my babe, and
+ books and horses, we may give the rest to the winds; this we shall not
+ have for the present. Shelley is entangled with Lord Byron, who is in
+ a terrible fright lest he should desert him. We shall have boats, and
+ go somewhere on the sea-coast, where, I daresay, we shall spend our
+ time agreeably enough, for I like the Williams' exceedingly, though
+ there my list begins and ends.
+
+ Emilia married Biondi; we hear that she leads him and his mother (to
+ use a vulgarism) a devil of a life. The conclusion of our friendship
+ (_a la Italiana_) puts me in mind of a nursery rhyme, which runs
+ thus--
+
+ As I was going down Cranbourne lane,
+ Cranbourne lane was dirty,
+ And there I met a pretty maid,
+ Who dropt to me a curtsey;
+
+ I gave her cakes, I gave her wine,
+ I gave her sugar-candy,
+ But oh! the little naughty girl,
+ She asked me for some brandy.
+
+ Now turn "Cranbourne Lane" into Pisan acquaintances, which I am sure
+ are dirty enough, and "brandy" into that wherewithal to buy brandy
+ (and that no small sum _pero_), and you have the whole story of
+ Shelley's Italian Platonics. We now know, indeed, few of those whom we
+ knew last year. Pacchiani is at Prato; Mavrocordato in Greece; the
+ Argyropolis in Florence; and so the world slides. Taafe is still
+ here--the butt of Lord Byron's quizzing, and the poet laureate of
+ Pisa. On the occasion of a young lady's birthday he wrote--
+
+ Eyes that shed a thousand flowers!
+ Why should flowers be sent to you?
+ Sweetest flowers of heavenly bowers,
+ Love and friendship, are what are due.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ After some divine _Italian_ weather, we are now enjoying some fine
+ English weather; _cioe_, it does not rain, but not a ray can pierce
+ the web aloft.--Most truly yours,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+
+ MARY SHELLEY TO MRS. HUNT.
+
+ _5th March 1822._
+
+ MY DEAREST MARIANNE--I hope that this letter will find you quite well,
+ recovering from your severe attack, and looking towards your haven
+ Italy with best hopes. I do indeed believe that you will find a relief
+ here from your many English cares, and that the winds which waft you
+ will sing the requiem to all your ills. It was indeed unfortunate that
+ you encountered such weather on the very threshold of your journey,
+ and as the wind howled through the long night, how often did I think
+ of you! At length it seemed as if we should never, never meet; but I
+ will not give way to such a presentiment. We enjoy here divine
+ weather. The sun hot, too hot, with a freshness and clearness in the
+ breeze that bears with it all the delights of spring. The hedges are
+ budding, and you should see me and my friend Mrs. Williams poking
+ about for violets by the sides of dry ditches; she being herself--
+
+ A violet by a mossy stone
+ Half hidden from the eye.
+
+ Yesterday a countryman seeing our dilemma, since the ditch was not
+ quite dry, insisted on gathering them for us, and when we resisted,
+ saying that we had no _quattrini_ (_i.e._ farthings, being the generic
+ name for all money), he indignantly exclaimed, _Oh! se lo faccio per
+ interesse!_ How I wish you were with us in our rambles! Our good
+ cavaliers flock together, and as they do not like _fetching a walk
+ with the absurd womankind_, Jane (_i.e._ Mrs. Williams) and I are off
+ together, and talk morality and pluck violets by the way. I look
+ forward to many duets with this lady and Hunt. She has a very pretty
+ voice, and a taste and ear for music which is almost miraculous. The
+ harp is her favourite instrument; but we have none, and a very bad
+ piano; however, as it is, we pass very pleasant evenings, though I can
+ hardly bear to hear her sing "Donne l'amore"; it transports me so
+ entirely back to your little parlour at Hampstead--and I see the
+ piano, the bookcase, the prints, the casts--and hear Mary's
+ _far-ha-ha-a_!
+
+ We are in great uncertainty as to where we shall spend the summer.
+ There is a beautiful bay about fifty miles off, and as we have
+ resolved on the sea, Shelley bought a boat. We wished very much to go
+ there; perhaps we shall still, but as yet we can find but one house;
+ but as we are a colony "which moves altogether or not at all," we have
+ not yet made up our minds. The apartments which we have prepared for
+ you in Lord Byron's house will be very warm for the summer; and indeed
+ for the two hottest months I should think that you had better go into
+ the country. Villas about here are tolerably cheap, and they are
+ perfect paradises. Perhaps, as it was with me, Italy will not strike
+ you as so divine at first; but each day it becomes dearer and more
+ delightful; the sun, the flowers, the air, all is more sweet and more
+ balmy than in the _Ultima Thule_ that you inhabit.
+
+ M. W. S.
+
+The journal for the next few weeks has nothing eventful to record. The
+preceding letter to Mrs. Hunt gives a simple and pleasing picture of their
+daily life. Perhaps Mary had never been quite so happy before; she wrote
+to the Hunts that she thought she grew younger. Both she and Shelley were
+occasionally ailing, and Shelley's letters show that his spirits suffered
+depression at times, still, in this respect as well as in health, he was
+better than he had been in any former spring. The proximity of Byron and
+his circle was not, however, favourable to inspiration or to literary
+composition. Byron's temperament acted as a damper to enthusiasm in
+others, and Shelley, though his estimate of Byron's genius was very high,
+was perpetually jarred and crossed by his worldliness and his moral
+shallowness and vulgarity. He invariably, acted, however, as Byron's true
+and disinterested friend; and Byron was fully aware of the value of his
+friendship and of his literary help and criticism.
+
+Trelawny, to whom Byron had taken kindly enough, estimated the difference
+in the moral worth of the two poets with singular justice.
+
+ "I believed in many things then, and believe in some now," he wrote,
+ more than five and thirty years afterwards: "I could not sympathise
+ with Byron, who believed in nothing."
+
+His friendship for Byron, nevertheless, was to be loyal and lasting. But
+his favourite resort in these Pisan days was the "hospitable and cheerful
+abode of the Shelleys."
+
+ "There," he says, "I found those sympathies and sentiments which the
+ Pilgrim denounced as illusions, believed in as the only realities."
+
+At Byron's social gatherings--riding-parties or dinner-parties--he made a
+point of getting Shelley if he could; and Shelley was very compliant,
+although the society of which Byron was the nucleus was neither congenial
+nor interesting to him, and he always took the first good opportunity of
+escaping. Daily intercourse of this kind tended gradually to estrange
+rather than unite the two poets: by accentuating differences it brought
+into evidence that gulf between their natures which, in spite of the one
+touch of kinship that certainly existed, was equally impassable by one and
+by the other. Besides, the subject of Clare and Allegra, never far below
+the surface, would occasionally come up, and this was a sore point on both
+sides. As has already been said, Byron appreciated Shelley, though he did
+not sympathise with him. In after days he bore public testimony to the
+purity and unselfishness of Shelley's character and to the upright and
+disinterested motives which actuated him in all he did. But his respect
+for Shelley was not so strong as his antipathy to Clare, and Shelley's
+feeling towards her was regarded by him with a cynical sneer which he had
+no care to hide, and of which its object could not always be unconscious.
+It is not wonderful that at times there swept across Shelley's mind, like
+a black cloud, the conviction that neither a sense of honour nor justice
+restrained Byron from the basest insinuations. And then again this
+suspicion would pass away as too dreadful to be entertained.
+
+Meanwhile Clare, in the pursuit of her newly-adopted profession, was
+thinking of going to Vienna, and she longed for a sight of her child
+first. She had been unusually long, or she fancied so, without news of
+Allegra, and she was growing desperately anxious,--with only too good
+cause, as the event showed. She wrote to Byron, entreating him to arrange
+for a visit or an interview. Byron took no notice of her letters. The
+Shelleys dared not annoy him unnecessarily on the subject, as he had been
+heard to threaten if they did so to immure Allegra in some secret convent
+where no one could get at her or even hear of her. Clare, working herself
+up into a state of half-frenzied excitement, sent them letter after
+letter, suggesting and urging wild plans (which Shelley was to realise)
+for carrying off the child by armed force; indeed, one of her schemes
+seems to have been to take advantage of the projected interview, if
+granted, for putting this design into execution. Some such proposed breach
+of faith must have been the occasion of Shelley's answering her--
+
+ I know not what to think of the state of your mind, or what to fear
+ for you. Your late plan about Allegra seems to me in its present form
+ pregnant with irremediable infamy to all the actors in it except
+ yourself.
+
+He did not think that in her present excited mental condition she was fit
+to go to Vienna, and he entreated her to postpone the idea. His advice,
+often repeated in different words, was, that she should not lose herself
+in distant and uncertain plans, but "systematise and simplify" her
+motions, at least for the present, and, if she felt in the least disposed,
+that she should come and stay with them--
+
+ If you like, come and look for houses with me in our boat; it might
+ distract your mind.
+
+He and Mary had resolved to quit Pisa as soon as the weather made it
+desirable to do so; but their plans and their anxieties were alike
+suspended by a temporary excitement of which Mary's account is given in
+the following letter--
+
+ MRS. SHELLEY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ PISA, _6th April 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--Not many days after I had written to you
+ concerning the fate which ever pursues us at spring-tide, a
+ circumstance happened which showed that we were not forgotten this
+ year. Although, indeed, now that it is all over, I begin to fear that
+ the King of Gods and men will not consider it a sufficiently heavy
+ visitation, although for a time it threatened to be frightful enough.
+ Two Sundays ago, Lord Byron, Shelley, Trelawny, Captain Hay, Count
+ Gamba, and Taafe were returning from their usual evening ride, when,
+ near the Porta della Piazza, they were passed by a soldier who
+ galloped through the midst of them knocking up against Taafe. This
+ nice little gentleman exclaimed, "Shall we endure this man's
+ insolence?" Lord Byron replied, "No! we will bring him to an account,"
+ and Shelley (whose blood always boils at any insolence offered by a
+ soldier) added, "As you please!" so they put spurs to their horses
+ (_i.e._ all but Taafe, who remained quietly behind), followed and
+ stopped the man, and, fancying that he was an officer, demanded his
+ name and address, and gave their cards. The man who, I believe, was
+ half drunk, replied only by all the oaths and abuse in which the
+ Italian language is so rich. He ended by saying, "If I liked I could
+ draw my sabre and cut you all to pieces, but as it is, I only arrest
+ you," and he called out to the guards at the gate _arrestategli_. Lord
+ Byron laughed at this, and saying _arrestateci pure_, gave spurs to
+ his horse and rode towards the gate, followed by the rest. Lord Byron
+ and Gamba passed, but before the others could, the soldier got under
+ the gateway, called on the guard to stop them, and drawing his sabre,
+ began to cut at them. It happened that I and the Countess Guiccioli
+ were in a carriage close behind and saw it all, and you may guess how
+ frightened we were when we saw our cavaliers cut at, they being
+ totally unarmed. Their only safety was, that the field of battle being
+ so confined, they got close under the man, and were able to arrest his
+ arm. Captain Hay was, however, wounded in his face, and Shelley thrown
+ from his horse. I cannot tell you how it all ended, but after cutting
+ and slashing a little, the man sheathed his sword and rode on, while
+ the others got from their horses to assist poor Hay, who was faint
+ from loss of blood. Lord Byron, when he had passed the gate, rode to
+ his own house, got a sword-stick from one of his servants, and was
+ returning to the gate, Lung' Arno, when he met this man, who held out
+ his hand saying, _Siete contento?_ Lord Byron replied, "No! I must
+ know your name, that I may require satisfaction of you." The soldier
+ said, _Il mio nome e Masi, sono sargente maggiore_, etc. etc. While
+ they were talking, a servant of Lord Byron's came and took hold of the
+ bridle of the sergeant's horse. Lord Byron ordered him to let it go,
+ and immediately the man put his horse to a gallop, but, passing Casa
+ Lanfranchi, one of Lord Byron's servants thought that he had killed
+ his master and was running away; determining that he should not go
+ scot-free, he ran at him with a pitchfork and wounded him. The man
+ rode on a few paces, cried out, _Sono ammazzato_, and fell, was
+ carried to the hospital, the Misericordia bell ringing. We were all
+ assembled at Casa Lanfranchi, nursing our wounded man, and poor
+ Teresa, from the excess of her fright, was worse than any, when what
+ was our consternation when we heard that the man's wound was
+ considered mortal! Luckily none but ourselves knew who had given the
+ wound; it was said by the wise Pisani, to have been one of Lord
+ Byron's servants, set on by his padrone, and they pitched upon a poor
+ fellow merely because _aveva lo sguardo fiero, quanto un assassino_.
+ For some days Masi continued in great danger, but he is now
+ recovering. As long as it was thought he would die, the Government did
+ nothing; but now that he is nearly well, they have imprisoned two
+ men, one of Lord Byron's servants (the one with the _sguardo fiero_),
+ and the other a servant of Teresa's, who was behind our carriage, both
+ perfectly innocent, but they have been kept _in segreto_ these ten
+ days, and God knows when they will be let out. What think you of this?
+ Will it serve for our spring adventure? It is blown over now, it is
+ true, but our fate has, in general, been in common with Dame Nature,
+ and March winds and April showers have brought forth May flowers.
+
+ You have no notion what a ridiculous figure Taafe cut in all this--he
+ kept far behind during the danger, but the next day he wished to take
+ all the honour to himself, vowed that all Pisa talked of him alone,
+ and coming to Lord Byron said, "My Lord, if you do not dare ride out
+ to-day, I will alone." But the next day he again changed, he was
+ afraid of being turned out of Tuscany, or of being obliged to fight
+ with one of the officers of the sergeant's regiment, of neither of
+ which things there was the slightest danger, so he wrote a declaration
+ to the Governor to say that he had nothing to do with it; so
+ embroiling himself with Lord Byron, he got between Scylla and
+ Charybdis, from which he has not yet extricated himself; for
+ ourselves, we do not fear any ulterior consequences.
+
+
+ _10th April._
+
+ We received _Hellas_ to-day, and the bill of lading. Shelley is well
+ pleased with the former, though there are some mistakes. The only
+ danger would arise from the vengeance of Masi, but the moment he is
+ able to move, he is to be removed to another town; he is a _pessimo
+ soggetto_, being the crony of Soldaini, Rosselmini, and Augustini,
+ Pisan names of evil fame, which, perhaps, you may remember. There is
+ only one consolation in all this, that if it be our fate to suffer, it
+ is more agreeable, and more safe to suffer in company with five or six
+ than alone. Well! after telling you this long story, I must relate our
+ other news. And first, the Greek Ali Pashaw is dead, and his head sent
+ to Constantinople; the reception of it was celebrated there by the
+ massacre of four thousand Greeks. The latter, however, get on. The
+ Turkish fleet of 25 sail of the line-of-war vessels, and 40
+ transports, endeavoured to surprise the Greek fleet in its winter
+ quarters; finding them prepared, they bore away for Lante, and pursued
+ by the Greeks, took refuge in the bay of Naupacto. Here they first
+ blockaded them, and obtained a complete victory. All the soldiers on
+ board the transports, in endeavouring to land, were cut to pieces, and
+ the fleet taken or destroyed. I heard something about Hellenists which
+ greatly pleased me. When any one asks of the peasants of the Morea
+ what news there is, and if they have had any victory, they reply: "I
+ do not know, but for us it is [Greek: e tan, e epi tas]," being their
+ Doric pronunciation of [Greek: e tan, e epi tes], the speech of the
+ Spartan mother, on presenting his shield to her son; "With this or on
+ this."
+
+ I wish, my dear Mrs. Gisborne, that you would send the first part of
+ this letter, addressed to Mr. W. Godwin at Nash's, Esq., Dover Street.
+ I wish him to have an account of the fray, and you will thus save me
+ the trouble of writing it over again, for what with writing and
+ talking about it, I am quite tired. In a late letter of mine to my
+ father, I requested him to send you _Matilda_. I hope that he has
+ complied with my desire, and, in that case, that you will get it
+ copied and send it to me by the first opportunity, perhaps by Hunt, if
+ he comes at all. I do not mention commissions to you, for although
+ wishing much for the things about which I wrote [we have], for the
+ present, no money to spare. We wish very much to hear from you again,
+ and to hear if there are any hopes of your getting on in your plans,
+ what Henry is doing, and how you continue to like England. The months
+ of February and March were with us as hot as an English June. In the
+ first days of April we have had some very cold weather; so that we are
+ obliged to light fires again. Shelley has been much better in health
+ this winter than any other since I have known him, Pisa certainly
+ agrees with him exceedingly well, which is its only merit, in my eyes.
+ I wish fate had bound us to Naples instead. Percy is quite well; he
+ begins to talk, Italian only now, and to call things _bello_ and
+ _buono_, but the droll thing is, that he is right about the genders.
+ A silk _vestito_ is _bello_, but a new _frusta_ is _bella_. He is a
+ fine boy, full of life, and very pretty. Williams is very well, and
+ they are getting on very well. Mrs. Williams is a miracle of economy,
+ and, as Mrs. Godwin used to call it, makes both ends meet with great
+ comfort to herself and others. Medwin is gone to Rome; we have heaps
+ of the gossip of a petty town this winter, being just in the _coterie_
+ where it was all carried on; but now _Grazie a Messer Domenedio_, the
+ English are almost all gone, and we, being left alone, all subjects of
+ discord and clacking cease. You may conceive what a _bisbiglio_ our
+ adventure made. The Pisans were all enraged because the _maledetti
+ inglesi_ were not punished; yet when the gentlemen returned from their
+ ride the following day (busy fate) an immense crowd was assembled
+ before Casa Lanfranchi, and they all took off their hats to them.
+ Adieu. _State bene e felice._ Best remembrances to Mr. Gisborne, and
+ compliments to Henry, who will remember Hay as one of the Maremma
+ hunters; he is a friend of Lord Byron's.--Yours ever truly,
+
+ MARY W. S.
+
+This affair, and the consequent inquiry and examination of witnesses in
+connection with it took up several days, on one of which Mary and Countess
+Guiccioli were under examination for five hours.
+
+In the meantime Byron decided to go to Leghorn for his summer boating;
+whereupon Shelley wrote and definitively proposed to Clare that she should
+accompany his party to Spezzia, promising her quiet and privacy, and
+immunity from annoyance, while she bided her time with regard to Allegra.
+Clare accepted the offer, and joined them at Pisa on the 15th of April in
+the expectation of starting very shortly. It turned out, however, that no
+suitable houses were, after all, to be had on the coast. This was an
+unexpected disappointment, and on the 23d she and the Williams' went off
+to Spezzia for another search. They were hardly on their way when letters
+were received by Shelley and Mary with the grievous news that Allegra had
+died of typhus fever in the convent of Bagnacavallo.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+APRIL-JULY 1882
+
+
+"Evil news. Not well."
+
+These few words are Mary's record of this frightful blow. She was again in
+delicate health, suffering from the same depressing symptoms as before
+Percy's birth, and for a like reason.
+
+No wonder she was made downright ill by the shock, and by the sickening
+apprehension of the scene to follow when Clare should hear the news.
+
+On the next day but one--the 25th of April--the travellers returned.
+
+Williams says, in his diary for that day--
+
+ Meet S., his face bespoke his feelings. C.'s child was dead, and he
+ had the office to break it to her, or rather not to do so; but,
+ fearful of the news reaching her ears, to remove her instantly from
+ this place.
+
+Shelley could not tell Clare at once. Not while they were in Pisa, and
+with Byron close by. One, unfurnished, house was to be had, the Casa
+Magni, in the Bay of Lerici. Thither, on the chance of getting it, they
+must go, and instantly. Mary's indisposition must be ignored; she must
+undertake the negotiations for the house. Within twenty-four hours she was
+off to Spezzia, with Clare and little Percy, escorted by Trelawny; poor
+Clare quite unconscious of the burden on her friends' minds. Shelley
+remained behind another day, to pack up the necessary furniture; but, on
+the 27th, he with the whole Williams family left Pisa for Lerici. Thence,
+while waiting for the furniture to arrive by sea, he wrote to Mary at
+Spezzia.
+
+ SHELLEY TO MARY.
+
+ LERICI, _Sunday, 28th April 1822_.
+
+ DEAREST MARY--I am this moment arrived at Lerici, where I am
+ necessarily detained, waiting the furniture, which left Pisa last
+ night at midnight, and as the sea has been calm and the wind fair, I
+ may expect them every moment. It would not do to leave affairs here in
+ an _impiccio_, great as is my anxiety to see you. How are you, my best
+ love? How have you sustained the trials of the journey? Answer me this
+ question, and how my little babe and Clare are. Now to business--
+
+ Is the Magni House taken? if not, pray occupy yourself instantly in
+ finishing the affair, even if you are obliged to go to Sarzana, and
+ send a messenger to me to tell me of your success. I, of course,
+ cannot leave Lerici, to which port the boats (for we were obliged to
+ take two) are directed. But _you_ can come over in the same boat that
+ brings you this letter, and return in the evening. I hear that
+ Trelawny is still with you. Tell Clare that, as I must probably in a
+ few days return to Pisa for the affair of the lawsuit, I have brought
+ her box with me, thinking she might be in want of some of its
+ contents.
+
+ I ought to say that I do not think there is accommodation for you all
+ at this inn; and that, even if there were, you would be better off at
+ Spezzia; but if the Magni House is taken, then there is no possible
+ reason why you should not take a row over in the boat that will bring
+ this; but do not keep the men long. I am anxious to hear from you on
+ every account.--Ever yours,
+
+ S.
+
+Mary's answer was that she had concluded for Casa Magni, but that no other
+house was to be had in all that neighbourhood. It was in a neglected
+condition, and not very roomy or convenient; but, such as it was, it had
+to accommodate the Williams', as well as the Shelleys, and Clare.
+Considerable difficulty was experienced by Shelley in obtaining leave for
+the landing of the furniture; this obstacle got over, they at last took
+possession.
+
+ EDWARD WILLIAMS' JOURNAL.
+
+ _Wednesday, May 1._--Cloudy, with rain. Came to Casa Magni after
+ breakfast, the Shelleys having contrived to give us rooms. Without
+ them, heaven knows what we should have done. Employed all day putting
+ the things away. All comfortably settled by 4. Passed the evening in
+ talking over our folly and our troubles.
+
+The worst trouble, however, was still impending. Finding how crowded and
+uncomfortable they were likely to be, Clare, after a day or two, decided
+that it was best for herself and for every one that she should return to
+Florence, and announced her intention accordingly. Compelled by the
+circumstances, Shelley then disclosed to her the true state of the case.
+Her grief was excessive, but was, after the first, succeeded by a calmness
+unusual in her and surprising to her friends; a reaction from the fever
+of suspense and torment in which she had lived for weeks past, and which
+were even a harder strain on her powers of endurance than the truth,
+grievous though that was, putting an end to all hope as well as to all
+fear. For the present she remained at the Villa Magni.
+
+ The ground floor of this habitation was appropriated, as is often done
+ in Italy, for stowing the implements and produce of the land, as rent
+ is paid in kind there. In the autumn you find casks of wine, jars of
+ oil, tools, wood, occasionally carts, and, near the sea, boats and
+ fishing-nets. Over this floor were a large saloon and four bedrooms
+ (which had once been whitewashed), and nothing more; there was an
+ out-building for cooking, and a place for the servants to eat and
+ sleep in. The Williams had one room, and Shelley and his wife occupied
+ two more, facing each other.[47]
+
+Facing the sea, and almost over it, a verandah or open terrace ran the
+whole length of the building; it was over the projecting ground floor, and
+level with the inhabited story.
+
+The surrounding scenery was magnificent, but wild to the last degree, and
+there was something unearthly in the perpetual moaning and howling of
+winds and waves. Poor Mary now began to feel the ill effects of her
+enforced over-exertions. She became very unwell, suffering from utter
+prostration of strength and from hysterical affections. Rest, quiet, and
+freedom from worry were essential to her condition, but none of these
+could she have, nor even sleep at night. The absence of comfort and
+privacy, added to the great difficulty of housekeeping, and the melancholy
+with which Clare's misfortune had infected the whole party, were all very
+unfavourable to her.
+
+After staying for three weeks, Clare returned for a short visit to
+Florence. Shelley's letters to her during her absence afford occasional
+glimpses, from which it is easy to infer more, into the state of affairs
+at Casa Magni. Mrs. Williams was "by no means acquiescent in the present
+system of things." The plan of having all possessions in common does not
+work well in the kitchen; the respective servants of the two families were
+always quarrelling and taking each other's things. Jane, who was a good
+housekeeper, had the defects of her qualities, and "pined for her own
+house and saucepans." "It is a pity," remarks Shelley, "that any one so
+pretty and amiable should be so selfish." Not that these matters troubled
+him much. Such little "squalls" gave way to calm, "in accustomed
+vicissitude" (to use his own words); and Mrs. Williams had far too much
+tact to dwell on domestic worries to him. His own nerves were for a time
+shaken and unstrung, but he recovered, and, after the first, was unusually
+well. He was in love with the wild, beautiful place, and with the life at
+sea; for to his boat he escaped whenever any little breezes ruffled the
+surface of domestic life so that its mirror no longer reflected his own
+unwontedly bright spirits. At first he and Williams had only the small
+flat-bottomed boat in which they had navigated the Arno and Serchio, but
+in a fortnight there arrived the little schooner which Captain Roberts had
+built for Shelley at Genoa, and then their content was perfect.
+
+For Mary no such escape from care and discomfort was open; she was too
+weak to go about much, and it is no wonder that, after the Williams'
+installation, she merely chronicles, "The rest of May a blank."
+
+Williams' diary partly fills this blank; and it is so graphic in its
+exceeding simplicity that, though it has been printed before, portions may
+well be included here.
+
+ EXTRACTS FROM WILLIAMS' DIARY.
+
+ _Thursday, May 2._--Cloudy, with intervals of rain. Went out with
+ Shelley in the boat--fish on the rocks--bad sport. Went in the evening
+ after some wild ducks--saw nothing but sublime scenery, to which the
+ grandeur of a storm greatly contributed.
+
+ _Friday, May 3._--Fine. The captain of the port despatched a vessel
+ for Shelley's boat. Went to Lerici with S., being obliged to market
+ there; the servant having returned from Sarzana without being able to
+ procure anything.
+
+ _Sunday, May 5._--Fine. Kept awake the whole night by a heavy swell,
+ which made a noise on the beach like the discharge of heavy artillery.
+ Tried with Shelley to launch the small flat-bottomed boat through the
+ surf; we succeeded in pushing it through, but shipped a sea on
+ attempting to land. Walk to Lerici along the beach, by a winding path
+ on the mountain's side. Delightful evening,--the scenery most sublime.
+
+ _Monday, May 6._--Fine. Some heavy drops of rain fell to-day, without
+ a cloud being visible. Made a sketch of the western side of the bay.
+ Read a little. Walked with Jane up the mountain.
+
+ After tea walking with Shelley on the terrace, and observing the
+ effect of moonshine on the waters, he complained of being unusually
+ nervous, and stopping short, he grasped me violently by the arm, and
+ stared steadfastly on the white surf that broke upon the beach under
+ our feet. Observing him sensibly affected, I demanded of him if he
+ were in pain. But he only answered by saying, "There it is
+ again--there"! He recovered after some time, and declared that he saw,
+ as plainly as he then saw me, a naked child (Allegra) rise from the
+ sea, and clap its hands as in joy, smiling at him. This was a trance
+ that it required some reasoning and philosophy entirely to awaken him
+ from, so forcibly had the vision operated on his mind. Our
+ conversation, which had been at first rather melancholy, led to this;
+ and my confirming his sensations, by confessing that I had felt the
+ same, gave greater activity to his ever-wandering and lively
+ imagination.
+
+ _Sunday, May 12._--Cloudy and threatening weather. Wrote during the
+ morning. Mr. Maglian called after dinner, and, while walking with him
+ on the terrace, we discovered a strange sail coming round the point of
+ Porto Venere, which proved at length to be Shelley's boat. She had
+ left Genoa on Thursday, but had been driven back by prevailing bad
+ winds, a Mr. Heslop and two English seamen brought her round, and they
+ speak most highly of her performances. She does, indeed, excite my
+ surprise and admiration. Shelley and I walked to Lerici, and made a
+ stretch off the land to try her, and I find she fetches whatever she
+ looks at. In short, we have now a perfect plaything for the summer.
+
+ _Monday, May 13._--Rain during night in torrents--a heavy gale of wind
+ from S.W., and a surf running heavier than ever; at 4 gale unabated,
+ violent squalls....
+
+ ... In the evening an electric arch forming in the clouds announces a
+ heavy thunderstorm, if the wind lulls. Distant thunder--gale
+ increases--a circle of foam surrounds the bay--dark, evening, and
+ tempestuous, with flashes of lightning at intervals, which give us no
+ hope of better weather. The learned in these things say, that it
+ generally lasts three days when once it commences as this has done. We
+ all feel as if we were on board ship--and the roaring of the sea
+ brings this idea to us even in our beds.
+
+ _Wednesday, May 15._--Fine and fresh breeze in puffs from the land.
+ Jane and Mary consent to take a sail. Run down to Porto Venere and
+ beat back at 1 o'clock. The boat sailed like a witch. After the late
+ gale, the water is covered with purple nautili, or as the sailors call
+ them, Portuguese men-of-war. After dinner Jane accompanied us to the
+ point of the Magra; and the boat beat back in wonderful style.
+
+ _Wednesday, May 22._--Fine, after a threatening night. After breakfast
+ Shelley and I amused ourselves with trying to make a boat of canvas
+ and reeds, as light and as small as possible. She is to be 8-1/2 feet
+ long, and 4-1/2 broad....
+
+ _Wednesday, June 12._--Launched the little boat, which answered our
+ wishes and expectations. She is 86 lbs. English weight, and stows
+ easily on board. Sailed in the evening, but were becalmed in the
+ offing, and left there with a long ground swell, which made Jane
+ little better than dead. Hoisted out our little boat and brought her
+ on shore. Her landing attended by the whole village.
+
+ _Thursday, June 13._--Fine. At 9 saw a vessel between the straits of
+ Porto Venere, like a man-of-war brig. She proved to be the _Bolivar_,
+ with Roberts and Trelawny on board, who are taking her round to
+ Livorno. On meeting them we were saluted by six guns. Sailed together
+ to try the vessels--in speed no chance with her, but I think we keep
+ as good a wind. She is the most beautiful craft I ever saw, and will
+ do more for her size. She costs Lord Byron L750 clear off and ready
+ for sea, with provisions and conveniences of every kind.
+
+In the midst of this happy life one anxiety there was, however, which
+pursued Shelley everywhere; and neither on shore nor at sea could he
+escape from it,--that of Godwin's imminent ruin.
+
+The first of the letters which follow had reached Mary while still at
+Pisa. The next letter, and that of Mrs. Godwin were, at Shelley's request,
+intercepted by Mrs. Mason and sent to him. He could not and would not show
+them to Mary, and wrote at last to Mrs. Godwin, to try and put a stop to
+them.
+
+ GODWIN TO MARY.
+
+ SKINNER STREET, _19th April 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAREST MARY--The die, so far as I am concerned, seems now to be
+ cast, and all that remains is that I should entreat you to forget that
+ you have a father in existence. Why should your prime of youthful
+ vigour be tarnished and made wretched by what relates to me? I have
+ lived to the full age of man in as much comfort as can reasonably be
+ expected to fall to the lot of a human being. What signifies what
+ becomes of the few wretched years that remain?
+
+ For the same reason, I think I ought for the future to drop writing to
+ you. It is impossible that my letters can give you anything but
+ unmingled pain. A few weeks more, and the formalities which still
+ restrain the successful claimant will be over, and my prospects of
+ tranquillity must, as I believe, be eternally closed.--Farewell,
+
+ WILLIAM GODWIN.
+
+
+ GODWIN TO MARY.
+
+ SKINNER STREET, _3d May 1822_.
+
+ DEAR MARY--I wrote to you a fortnight ago, and professed my intention
+ of not writing again. I certainly will not write when the result shall
+ be to give pure, unmitigated pain. It is the questionable shape of
+ what I have to communicate that still thrusts the pen into my hand.
+ This day we are compelled, by summary process, to leave the house we
+ live in, and to hide our heads in whatever alley will receive us. If
+ we can compound with our creditor, and he seems not unwilling to
+ accept L400 (I have talked with him on the subject), we may emerge
+ again. Our business, if freed from this intolerable burthen, is more
+ than ever worth keeping.
+
+ But all this would, perhaps, have failed in inducing me to resume the
+ pen, but for _one extraordinary accident_. Wednesday, 1st May, was the
+ day when the last legal step was taken against me; and Wednesday
+ morning, a few hours before this catastrophe, Willats, the man who,
+ three or four years before, lent Shelley L2000 at two for one, called
+ on me to ask whether Shelley wanted any more money on the same terms.
+ What does this mean? In the contemplation of such a coincidence, I
+ could almost grow superstitious. But, alas! I fear--I fear--I am a
+ drowning man, catching at a straw.--Ever most affectionately, your
+ father,
+
+ WILLIAM GODWIN.
+
+ Please to direct your letters, till you hear further, to the care of
+ Mr. Monro, No. 60 Skinner Street.
+
+
+ MRS. MASON TO SHELLEY.
+
+ _May 1822._
+
+ I send you in return for Godwin's letter one still worse, because I
+ think it has more the appearance of truth. I was desired to convey it
+ to Mary, but that I should not think right. At the same time, I don't
+ well know how you can conceal all this affair from her; they really
+ seem to want assistance at present, for their being turned out of the
+ house is a serious evil. I rejoice in your good health, to which I
+ have no doubt the boat and the Williams' much contribute, and wish
+ there may be no prospect of its being disturbed.
+
+ Mary ought to know what is said of the novel, and how can she know
+ that without all the rest? You will contrive what is best. In the part
+ of the letter which I do send, she (Mrs. Godwin) adds, that at this
+ moment Mr. Godwin does not offer the novel to any bookseller, lest his
+ actual situation might make it be supposed that it would be sold
+ cheap. Mrs. Godwin also wishes to correspond directly with Mrs.
+ Shelley, but this I shall not permit; she says Godwin's health is much
+ the worse for all this affair.
+
+ I was astonished at seeing Clare walk in on Tuesday evening, and I
+ have not a spare bed now in the house, the children having outgrown
+ theirs, and been obliged to occupy that which I had formerly; she
+ proposed going to an inn, but preferred sleeping on a sofa, where I
+ made her as comfortable as I could, which is but little so; however,
+ she is satisfied. I rejoice to see that she has not suffered so much
+ as you expected, and understand now her former feelings better than at
+ first. When there is nothing to hope or fear, it is natural to be
+ calm. I wish she had some determined project, but her plans seem as
+ unsettled as ever, and she does not see half the reasons for
+ separating herself from your society that really exist. I regret to
+ perceive her great repugnance to Paris, which I believe to be the
+ place best adapted to her. If she had but the temptation of good
+ letters of introduction!--but I have no means of obtaining them for
+ her--she intends, I believe, to go to Florence to-morrow, and to
+ return to your habitation in a week, but talks of not staying the
+ whole summer. I regret the loss of Mary's good health and spirits, but
+ hope it is only the consequence of her present situation, and,
+ therefore, merely temporary, but I dread Clare's being in the same
+ house for a month or two, and wish the Williams' were half a mile from
+ you. I must write a few lines to Mary, but will say nothing of having
+ heard from Mrs. Godwin; you will tell her what you think right, but
+ you know my opinion, that things which cannot be concealed are better
+ told at once. I should suppose a bankruptcy would be best, but the
+ Godwins do not seem to think so. If all the world valued obscure
+ tranquillity as much as I do, it would be a happier, though possibly
+ much duller, world than it is, but the loss of wealth is quite an
+ epidemic disease in England, and it disturbs their rest more than
+ the[48] ... I should have a thousand things to say, but that I have a
+ thousand other things to do, and you give me hope of conversing with
+ you before long.--Ever yours very sincerely,
+
+ M. M.
+
+
+ SHELLEY TO MRS. GODWIN.
+
+ LERICI, _29th May 1882_.
+
+ DEAR MADAM--Mrs. Mason has sent me an extract from your last letter to
+ show to Mary, and I have received that of Mr. Godwin, in which he
+ mentions your having left Skinner Street.
+
+ In Mary's present state of health and spirits, much caution is
+ requisite with regard to communications which must agitate her in the
+ highest degree, and the object of my present letter is simply to
+ inform you that I thought it right to exercise this caution on the
+ present occasion. Mary is at present about three months advanced in
+ pregnancy, and the irritability and languor which accompany this state
+ are always distressing, and sometimes alarming. I do not know even how
+ soon I can permit her to receive such communications, or even how soon
+ you or Mr. Godwin would wish they should be conveyed to her, if you
+ could have any idea of the effect. Do not, however, let me be
+ misunderstood. It is not my intention or my wish that the
+ circumstances in which your family is involved should be concealed
+ from her; but that the detail of them should be suspended until they
+ assume a more prosperous character, or at least till letters addressed
+ to her or intended for her perusal on that subject should not convey a
+ supposition that she could do more than she does, thus exasperating
+ the sympathy which she already feels too intensely for her Father's
+ distress, which she would sacrifice all she possesses to remedy, but
+ the remedy of which is beyond her power. She imagined that her novel
+ might be turned to immediate advantage for him. I am greatly
+ interested in the fate of this production, which appears to me to
+ possess a high degree of merit, and I regret that it is not Mr.
+ Godwin's intention to publish it immediately. I am sure that Mary
+ would be delighted to amend anything that her Father thought imperfect
+ in it, though I confess that if his objection relates to the
+ character of Beatrice, _I_ shall lament the deference which would be
+ shown by the sacrifice of any portion of it to feelings and ideas
+ which are but for a day. I wish Mr. Godwin would write to her on that
+ subject; he might advert to the letter (for it is only the last one)
+ which I have suppressed, or not, as he thought proper.
+
+ I have written to Mr. Smith to solicit the loan of L400, which, if I
+ can obtain in that manner, is very much at Mr. Godwin's service. The
+ views which I now entertain of my affairs forbid me to enter into any
+ further reversionary transactions; nor do I think Mr. Godwin would be
+ a gainer by the contrary determination; as it would be next to
+ impossible to effectuate any such bargain at this distance, nor could
+ I burthen my income, which is only sufficient to meet its various
+ claims, and the system of life in which it seems necessary I should
+ live.
+
+ We hear you hear Jane's (Clare's) news from Mrs. Mason. Since the late
+ melancholy event she has become far more tranquil; nor should I have
+ anything to desire with regard to her, did not the uncertainty of my
+ own life and prospects render it prudent for her to attempt to
+ establish some sort of independence as a security against an event
+ which would deprive her of that which she at present enjoys. She is
+ well in health, and usually resides at Florence, where she has formed
+ a little society for herself among the Italians, with whom she is a
+ great favourite. She was here for a week or two; and although she has
+ at present returned to Florence, we expect her on a visit to us for
+ the summer months. In the winter, unless some of her various plans
+ succeed, for she may be called _la fille aux mille projets_, she will
+ return to Florence. Mr. Godwin may depend upon receiving immediate
+ notice of the result of my application to Mr. Smith. I hope soon to
+ have an account of your situation and prospects, and remain, dear
+ Madam, yours very sincerely,
+
+ P. B. SHELLEY.
+
+ Mrs. Godwin.
+
+ We will speak another time, of what is deeply interesting both to Mary
+ and to myself, of my dear William.
+
+The knowledge of all this on Shelley's mind,--the consciousness that he
+was hiding it from Mary, and that she was probably more than half aware of
+his doing so, gave him a feeling of constraint in his daily intercourse
+with her. To talk with her, even about her father, was difficult, for he
+could neither help nor hide his feeling of irritation and indignation at
+the way in which Godwin persecuted his daughter after the efforts she had
+made in his behalf, and for which he had hardly thanked her.
+
+It would have to come, the explanation; but for the present, as Shelley
+wrote to Clare, he was content to put off the evil day. Towards the end of
+the month Mary's health had somewhat improved, and the letter she then
+wrote to Mrs. Gisborne gives a connected account of all the past
+incidents.
+
+ MARY SHELLEY TO MRS. GISBORNE.
+
+ CASA MAGNI, Presso a LERICI,
+ _2d June 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAR MRS. GISBORNE--We received a letter from Mr. Gisborne the
+ other day, which promised one from you. It is not yet come, and
+ although I think that you are two or three in my debt, yet I am good
+ enough to write to you again, and thus to increase your debt. Nor will
+ I allow you, with one letter, to take advantage of the Insolvent Act,
+ and thus to free yourself from all claims at once. When I last wrote,
+ I said that I hoped our spring visitation had come and was gone, but
+ this year we were not quit so easily. However, before I mention
+ anything else, I will finish the story of the _zuffa_ as far as it is
+ yet gone. I think that in my last I left the sergeant recovering; one
+ of Lord Byron's and one of the Guiccioli's servants in prison on
+ suspicion, though both were innocent. The judge or advocate, called a
+ Cancelliere, sent from Florence to determine the affair, dislikes the
+ Pisans, and, having _poca paga_, expected a present from Milordo, and
+ so favoured our part of the affair, was very civil, and came to our
+ houses to take depositions against the law. For the sake of the
+ lesson, Hogg should have been there to learn to cross-question. The
+ Cancelliere, a talkative buffoon of a Florentine, with "mille scuse
+ per l'incomodo," asked, "Dove fu lei la sera del 24 marzo? Andai a
+ spasso in carozza, fuori della Porta della Piaggia." A little clerk,
+ seated beside him, with a great pile of papers before him, now dipped
+ his pen in his ink-horn, and looked expectant, while the Cancelliere,
+ turning his eyes up to the ceiling, repeated, "Io fui a spasso," etc.
+ This scene lasted two, four, six, hours, as it happened. In the space
+ of two months the depositions of fifteen people were taken, and
+ finding Tita (Lord Byron's servant) perfectly innocent, the
+ Cancelliere ordered him to be liberated, but the Pisan police took
+ fright at his beard. They called him "il barbone," and, although it
+ was declared that on his exit from prison he should be shaved, they
+ could not tranquillise their mighty minds, but banished him. We, in
+ the meantime, were come to this place, so he has taken refuge with us.
+ He is an excellent fellow, faithful, courageous, and daring. How could
+ it happen that the Pisans should be frightened at such a _mirabile
+ mostro_ of an Italian, especially as the day he was let out of
+ _segreto_, and was a _largee_ in prison, he gave a feast to all his
+ fellow-prisoners, hiring chandeliers and plate! But poor Antonio, the
+ Guiccioli's servant, the meekest-hearted fellow in the world, is kept
+ in _segreto_; not found guilty, but punished as such,--_e chi sa_ when
+ he will be let out?--so rests the affair.
+
+ About a month ago Clare came to visit us at Pisa, and went with the
+ Williams' to find a house in the Gulf of Spezzia, when, during her
+ absence, the disastrous news came of the death of Allegra. She died of
+ a typhus fever, which had been raging in the Romagna; but no one wrote
+ to say it was there. She had no friends except the nuns of the
+ Convent, who were kind to her, I believe; but you know Italians. If
+ half of the Convent had died of the plague, they would never have
+ written to have had her removed, and so the poor child fell a
+ sacrifice. Lord Byron felt the loss at first bitterly; he also felt
+ remorse, for he felt that he had acted against everybody's counsels
+ and wishes, and death had stamped with truth the many and often-urged
+ prophecies of Clare, that the air of the Romagna, joined to the
+ ignorance of the Italians, would prove fatal to her. Shelley wished to
+ conceal the fatal news from her as long as possible, so when she
+ returned from Spezzia he resolved to remove thither without delay,
+ with so little delay that he packed me off with Clare and Percy the
+ very next day. She wished to return to Florence, but he persuaded her
+ to accompany me; the next day he packed up our goods and chattels, for
+ a furnished house was not to be found in this part of the world, and,
+ like a torrent hurrying everything in its course, he persuaded the
+ Williams' to do the same. They came here; but one house was to be
+ found for us all; it is beautifully situated on the sea-shore, under
+ the woody hills,--but such a place as this is! The poverty of the
+ people is beyond anything, yet they do not appear unhappy, but go on
+ in dirty content, or contented dirt, while we find it hard work to
+ purvey miles around for a few eatables. We were in wretched discomfort
+ at first, but now are in a kind of disorderly order, living from day
+ to day as we can. After the first day or two Clare insisted on
+ returning to Florence, so Shelley was obliged to disclose the truth.
+ You may judge of what was her first burst of grief and despair;
+ however she reconciled herself to her fate sooner than we expected;
+ and although, of course, until she form new ties, she will always
+ grieve, yet she is now tranquil--more tranquil than when prophesying
+ her disaster; she was for ever forming plans for getting her child
+ from a place she judged but too truly would be fatal to her. She has
+ now returned to Florence, and I do not know whether she will join us
+ again. Our colony is much smaller than we expected, which we consider
+ a benefit. Lord Byron remains with his train at Montenero. Trelawny
+ is to be the commander of his vessel, and of course will be at
+ Leghorn. He is at present at Genoa, awaiting the finishing of this
+ boat. Shelley's boat is a beautiful creature; Henry would admire her
+ greatly; though only 24 feet by 8 feet she is a perfect little ship,
+ and looks twice her size. She had one fault, she was to have been
+ built in partnership with Williams and Trelawny. Trelawny chose the
+ name of the _Don Juan_, and we acceded; but when Shelley took her
+ entirely on himself we changed the name to the _Ariel_. Lord Byron
+ chose to take fire at this, and determined that she should be called
+ after the Poem; wrote to Roberts to have the name painted on the
+ mainsail, and she arrived thus disfigured. For days and nights, full
+ twenty-one, did Shelley and Edward ponder on her anabaptism, and the
+ washing out the primeval stain. Turpentine, spirits of wine, buccata,
+ all were tried, and it became dappled and no more. At length the piece
+ had to be taken out and reefs put, so that the sail does not look
+ worse. I do not know what Lord Byron will say, but Lord and Poet as he
+ is, he could not be allowed to make a coal barge of our boat. As only
+ one house was to be found habitable in this gulf, the Williams' have
+ taken up their abode with us, and their servants and mine quarrel like
+ cats and dogs; and besides, you may imagine how ill a large family
+ agrees with my laziness, when accounts and domestic concerns come to
+ be talked of. _Ma pazienza._ After all the place does not suit me; the
+ people are _rozzi_, and speak a detestable dialect, and yet it is
+ better than any other Italian sea-shore north of Naples. The air is
+ excellent, and you may guess how much better we like it than Leghorn,
+ when, besides, we should have been involved in English society--a
+ thing we longed to get rid of at Pisa. Mr. Gisborne talks of your
+ going to a distant country; pray write to me in time before this takes
+ place, as I want a box from England first, but cannot now exactly name
+ its contents. I am sorry to hear you do not get on, but perhaps Henry
+ will, and make up for all. Percy is well, and Shelley singularly so;
+ this incessant boating does him a great deal of good. I have been
+ very unwell for some time past, but am better now. I have not even
+ heard of the arrival of my novel; but I suppose for his own sake, Papa
+ will dispose of it to the best advantage. If you see it advertised,
+ pray tell me, also its publisher, etc.
+
+ We have heard from Hunt the day he was to sail, and anxiously and
+ daily now await his arrival. Shelley will go over to Leghorn to him,
+ and I also, if I can so manage it. We shall be at Pisa next winter, I
+ believe, fate so decrees. Of course you have heard that the lawsuit
+ went against my Father. This was the summit and crown of our spring
+ misfortunes, but he writes in so few words, and in such a manner, that
+ any information that I could get, through any one, would be a great
+ benefit to me. Adieu. Pray write now, and at length. Remember both
+ Shelley and me to Hogg. Did you get _Matilda_ from Papa?--Yours ever,
+
+ MARY W. SHELLEY.
+
+ Continue to direct to Pisa.
+
+Clare returned to the Casa Magni on the 6th of July. The weather had now
+become intensely hot, and Mary was again prostrated by it. Alarming
+symptoms appeared, and after a wretched week of ill health, these came to
+a crisis in a dangerous miscarriage. She was destitute of medical aid or
+appliances, and, weakened as she already was, they feared for her life.
+She had lain ill for several hours before some ice could be procured, and
+Shelley then took upon himself the responsibility of its immediate use;
+the event proved him right; and when at last a doctor came, he found her
+doing well. Her strength, however, was reduced to the lowest ebb; her
+spirits also; and within a week of this misfortune her recovery was
+retarded by a dreadful nervous shock she received through Shelley's
+walking in his sleep.[49]
+
+While Mary was enduring a time of physical and mental suffering beyond
+what can be told, and such as no man can wholly understand, Shelley, for
+his part, was enjoying unwonted health and good spirits. And such
+creatures are we all that unwonted health in ourself is even a stronger
+power for happiness than is the sickness of another for depression.
+
+He was sorry for Mary's gloom, but he could not lighten it, and he was
+persistently content in spite of it. This has led to the supposition that
+there was, at this time, a serious want of sympathy between Shelley and
+Mary. His only want, he said in an often-quoted letter, was the presence
+of those who could feel, and understand him, and he added, "Whether from
+proximity, and the continuity of domestic intercourse, Mary does not."
+
+It would have been almost miraculous had it been otherwise. Perhaps
+nothing in the world is harder than for a person suffering from exhausting
+illness, and from the extreme of nervous and mental depression, to enter
+into the mood of temporary elation of another person whose spirits, as a
+rule, are uneven, and in need of constant support from others. But the
+context of this very letter of Shelley's shows clearly enough that he
+meant nothing desperate, no shipwreck of the heart; for, as the people who
+could "feel, and understand him," he instances his correspondents, Mr. and
+Mrs. Gisborne, saying that his satisfaction would be complete if only
+_they_ were of the party; although, were his wishes not limited by his
+hopes, Hogg would also be included. He would have liked a little
+intellectual stimulus and comradeship. As it was, he was well satisfied
+with an intercourse of which "words were not the instruments."
+
+ I like Jane more and more, and I find Williams the most amiable of
+ companions.
+
+Jane's guitar and her sweet singing were a new and perpetual delight to
+him, and she herself supplied him with just as much suggestion of an
+unrealised ideal as was necessary to keep his imagination alive. She, on
+her side, understood him and knew how to manage him perfectly; as a great
+man may be understood by a clever woman who is so far from having an
+intellectual comprehension of him that she is not distressed by the
+consciousness of its imperfection or its absence, but succeeds by dint of
+delicate social intuition, guided by just so much sense of humour as saves
+her from exaggeration, or from blunders; and who understands her great man
+on his human side so much better than the poor creature understands
+himself, as to wind him at will, easily, gracefully, and insensibly, round
+her little finger. And so, without sacrificing a moment's peace of mind,
+Jane Williams won over Shelley an ascendency which was pleasing to both
+and convenient to every one. No better instance could be given of her
+method than the well-known episode of his sudden proposal to her to
+overturn the boat, and, together, to "solve the great mystery"; inimitably
+told by Trelawny. And so the month of June sped away.
+
+ "I have a boat here," wrote Shelley to John Gisborne, ... "it cost me
+ L80, and reduced me to some difficulty in point of money. However, it
+ is swift and beautiful, and appears quite a vessel. Williams is
+ captain, and we glide along this delightful bay, in the evening wind,
+ under the summer moon, until earth appears another world. Jane brings
+ her guitar, and if the past and the future could be obliterated, the
+ present would content me so well that I could say with Faust to the
+ present moment, 'Remain; thou art so beautiful.'"
+
+And now, like Faust, having said this, like Faust's, his hour had come.
+
+He heard from Genoa of the Leigh Hunts' arrival, so far, on their journey,
+and wrote at once to Hunt a letter of warmest welcome to Italy, promising
+to start for Leghorn the instant he should hear of the Hunts' vessel
+having sailed for that port.
+
+ Poor Mary, who sends you a thousand loves, has been seriously ill,
+ having suffered a most debilitating miscarriage. She is still too
+ unwell to rise from the sofa, and must take great care of herself for
+ some time, or she would come with us to Leghorn. Lord Byron is in
+ _villegiatura_ near Leghorn, and you will meet besides with a Mr.
+ Trelawny, a wild, but kind-hearted seaman.
+
+The Hunts sailed; and, on the 1st of July, Shelley and Williams, with
+Charles Vivian, the sailor-lad who looked after their boat, started in the
+_Ariel_ for Leghorn, where they arrived safely. Thence Shelley, with Leigh
+Hunt, proceeded to Pisa. It had not been their intention to stay long, but
+Shelley found much to detain him. Matters with respect to Byron and the
+projected magazine wore a most unsatisfactory appearance; Byron's
+eagerness had cooled, and his reception of the Hunts was chilling in the
+extreme. Poor Mrs. Hunt was very seriously ill, and the letter which Mary
+received from her husband was mainly to explain his prolonged absence. She
+had let him go from her side with the greatest unwillingness; she was
+haunted by the gloomiest forebodings and a sense of unexplained misery
+which they all ascribed to her illness, and her letters were written in a
+tone of depression which made Shelley anxious on her account, and Edward
+Williams on that of his wife, who, he feared, might be unhappy during his
+absence from her.
+
+But Jane wrote brightly, and gave an improved account of Mary.
+
+ SHELLEY TO MARY.
+
+ PISA, _4th July 1822_.
+
+ MY DEAREST MARY--I have received both your letters, and shall attend
+ to the instructions they convey. I did not think of buying the
+ _Bolivar_; Lord Byron wishes to sell her, but I imagine would prefer
+ ready money. I have as yet made no inquiries about houses near
+ Pugnano--I have had no moment of time to spare from Hunt's affairs. I
+ am detained unwillingly here, and you will probably see Williams in
+ the boat before me, but that will be decided to-morrow.
+
+ Things are in the worst possible situation with respect to poor Hunt.
+ I find Marianne in a desperate state of health, and on our arrival at
+ Pisa sent for Vacca. He decides that her case is hopeless, and,
+ although it will be lingering, must end fatally. This decision he
+ thought proper to communicate to Hunt, indicating at the same time
+ with great judgment and precision the treatment necessary to be
+ observed for availing himself of the chance of his being deceived.
+ This intelligence has extinguished the last spark of poor Hunt's
+ spirits, low enough before. The children are well and much improved.
+ Lord Byron is at this moment on the point of leaving Tuscany. The
+ Gambas have been exiled, and he declares his intention of following
+ their fortunes. His first idea was to sail to America, which was
+ changed to Switzerland, then to Genoa, and last to Lucca. Everybody is
+ in despair, and everything in confusion. Trelawny was on the point of
+ sailing to Genoa for the purpose of transporting the _Bolivar_
+ overland to the Lake of Geneva, and had already whispered in my ear
+ his desire that I should not influence Lord Byron against this
+ terrestrial navigation. He next received _orders_ to weigh anchor and
+ set sail for Lerici. He is now without instructions, moody and
+ disappointed. But it is the worse for poor Hunt, unless the present
+ storm should blow over. He places his whole dependence upon the
+ scheme of the journal, for which every arrangement has been made. Lord
+ Byron must, of course, furnish the requisite funds at present, as I
+ cannot; but he seems inclined to depart without the necessary
+ explanations and arrangements due to such a situation as Hunt's.
+ These, in spite of delicacy, I must procure; he offers him the
+ copyright of the _Vision of Judgment_ for the first number. This
+ offer, if sincere, is _more_ than enough to set up the journal, and,
+ if sincere, will set everything right.
+
+ How are you, my best Mary? Write especially how is your health, and
+ how your spirits are, and whether you are not more reconciled to
+ staying at Lerici, at least during the summer. You have no idea how I
+ am hurried and occupied; I have not a moment's leisure, but will write
+ by next post. Ever, dearest Mary, yours affectionately,
+
+ S.
+
+ I have found the translation of the _Symposium_.
+
+
+ SHELLEY TO JANE WILLIAMS.
+
+ PISA, _4th July 1822_.
+
+ You will probably see Williams before I can disentangle myself from
+ the affairs with which I am now surrounded. I return to Leghorn
+ to-night, and shall urge him to sail with the first fair wind without
+ expecting me. I have thus the pleasure of contributing to your
+ happiness when deprived of every other, and of leaving you no other
+ subject of regret but the absence of one scarcely worth regretting. I
+ fear you are solitary and melancholy at the Villa Magni, and, in the
+ intervals of the greater and more serious distress in which I am
+ compelled to sympathise here, I figure to myself the countenance which
+ has been the source of such consolation to me, shadowed by a veil of
+ sorrow.
+
+ How soon those hours passed, and how slowly they return, to pass so
+ soon again, and perhaps for ever, in which we have lived together so
+ intimately, so happily! Adieu, my dearest friend. I only write these
+ lines for the pleasure of tracing what will meet your eyes. Mary will
+ tell you all the news.
+
+ S.
+
+
+ FROM JANE WILLIAMS TO SHELLEY.
+
+ _6th July._
+
+ MY DEAREST FRIEND--Your few melancholy lines have indeed cast your own
+ visionary veil over a countenance that was animated with the hope of
+ seeing you return with far different tidings. We heard yesterday that
+ you had left Leghorn in company with the _Bolivar_, and would
+ assuredly be here in the morning at 5 o'clock; therefore I got up, and
+ from the terrace saw (or I dreamt it) the _Bolivar_ opposite in the
+ offing. She hoisted more sail, and went through the Straits. What can
+ this mean? Hope and uncertainty have made such a chaos in my mind that
+ I know not what to think. My own Neddino does not deign to lighten my
+ darkness by a single word. Surely I shall see him to-night. Perhaps,
+ too, you are with him. Well, _pazienza_!
+
+ Mary, I am happy to tell you, goes on well; she talks of going to
+ Pisa, and indeed your poor friends seem to require all her assistance.
+ For me, alas! I can only offer sympathy, and my fervent wishes that a
+ brighter cloud may soon dispel the present gloom. I hope much from the
+ air of Pisa for Mrs. Hunt.
+
+ Lord B.'s departure gives me pleasure, for whatever may be the present
+ difficulties and disappointments, they are small to what you would
+ have suffered had he remained with you. This I say in the spirit of
+ prophecy, so gather consolation from it.
+
+ I have only time left to scrawl you a hasty adieu, and am
+ affectionately yours,
+
+ J. W.
+
+ Why do you talk of never enjoying moments like the past? Are you going
+ to join your friend Plato, or do you expect I shall do so soon? _Buona
+ notte._
+
+Mary was slowly getting better, and hoping to feel brighter by the time
+Shelley came back. On the 7th of July she wrote a few lines in her
+journal, summing up the month during which she had left it untouched.
+
+ _Sunday, July 7._--I am ill most of this time. Ill, and then
+ convalescent. Roberts and Trelawny arrive with the _Bolivar_. On
+ Monday, 16th June, Trelawny goes on to Leghorn with her. Roberts
+ remains here until 1st July, when the Hunts being arrived, Shelley
+ goes in the boat with him and Edward to Leghorn. They are still there.
+ Read _Jacopo Ortis_, second volume of _Geographica Fisica_, etc. etc.
+
+Next day, Monday the 8th, when the voyagers were expected to return, it
+was so stormy all day at Lerici that their having sailed was considered
+out of the question, and their non-arrival excited no surprise in Mary or
+Jane. So many possibilities and probabilities might detain them at Leghorn
+or Pisa, that their wives did not get anxious for three or four days; and
+even then what the two women dreaded was not calamity at sea, but illness
+or disagreeable business on shore. On Thursday, however, getting no
+letters, they did become uneasy, and, but for the rough weather, Jane
+Williams would have started in a row-boat for Leghorn. On Friday they
+watched with feverish anxiety for the post; there was but one letter, and
+it turned them to stone. It was to Shelley, from Leigh Hunt, begging him
+to write and say how he had got home in the bad weather of the previous
+Monday. And then it dawned upon them--a dawn of darkness. There was no
+news; there would be no news any more.
+
+One minute had untied the knot, and solved the great mystery. The _Ariel_
+had gone down in the storm, with all hands on board.
+
+And for four days past, though they had not known it, Mary Shelley and
+Jane Williams had been widows.
+
+
+END OF VOL. I
+
+_Printed, by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_.
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] "Address to the Irish People."
+
+[2] Possibly this may refer to Count Schlaberndorf, an expatriated
+Prussian subject, who was imprisoned in Paris during the Reign of Terror,
+and escaped, but subsequently returned, and lived there in retirement,
+almost in concealment. He was a cynic, an eccentric, yet a patriot withal.
+He was divorced from his wife, and Shelley had probably got hold of a
+wrong version of his story.
+
+[3] Byron.
+
+[4] _Ibid._
+
+[5]
+
+ Thy dewy looks sink in my breast;
+ Thy gentle words stir poison there;
+ Thou hast disturbed the only rest
+ That was the portion of despair!
+ Subdued to Duty's hard control,
+ I could have borne my wayward lot:
+ The chains that bind this ruined soul
+ Had cankered then, but crushed it not.
+
+[6] See his letter to Baxter, quoted before.
+
+[7] _Journal of a Six Weeks' Tour._
+
+[8] _Journal of a Six Weeks' Tour._
+
+[9] _Journal of a Six Weeks' Tour._
+
+[10] The bailiffs.
+
+[11] She was staying temporarily at Skinner Street.
+
+[12] Referring to Fanny's letter, enclosed.
+
+[13] Peacock's mother.
+
+[14] A friend of Harriet Shelley's.
+
+[15] It is presumed that these were for Clara, in answer to an
+advertisement for a situation as companion.
+
+[16] Godwin's friend and amanuensis.
+
+[17] Which, unfortunately, may not be published.
+
+[18] From this time Miss Clairmont is always mentioned as Clare, or
+Claire, except by the Godwins, who adhered to the original "Jane."
+
+[19] Byron.
+
+[20] Word obliterated.
+
+[21] Matthew Gregory Lewis, known as "Monk" Lewis.
+
+[22] Hogg.
+
+[23] _Revolt of Islam_, Dedication.
+
+[24] _Revolt of Islam_, Dedication.
+
+[25] The work referred to would seem to be Shelley's Oxford pamphlet.
+
+[26] Baxter's son.
+
+[27] Mr. Booth.
+
+[28] What this accusation was does not appear.
+
+[29] Alba.
+
+[30] Shelley's solicitor.
+
+[31] The nursemaid.
+
+[32] Mrs. Hunt.
+
+[33] See Godwin's letter to Baxter, chap. iii.
+
+[34] Preface to _Prometheus Unbound_.
+
+[35] Page 205.
+
+[36] In _Frankenstein_.
+
+[37] _Notes to Shelley's Poems_, by Mrs. Shelley.
+
+[38] Letter to Mr. Gisborne, of June 18, 1822.
+
+[39] Letter of Shelley's to Mr. Gisborne. (The passage, in the original,
+has no personal reference to Byron.)
+
+[40] Announcing the stoppage of Shelley's income.
+
+[41] "The Boat on the Serchio."
+
+[42] _Notes to Shelley's Poems_, by Mary Shelley.
+
+[43] Godwin's _Answer to Malthus_.
+
+[44] This initial has been printed _C._ Mrs. Shelley's letter leaves no
+doubt that Elise's is the illness referred to.
+
+[45] Trelawny's "Recollections."
+
+[46] Williams' journal for this last day runs--
+
+_February 18._--Jane unwell. S. turns physician. Called on Lord B., who
+talks of getting up _Othello_. Laid a wager with S. that Lord B. quits
+Italy before six months. Jane put on a Hindostanee dress and passed the
+evening with Mary, who had also the Turkish costume.
+
+[47] Trelawny's "Recollections."
+
+[48] Word illegible.
+
+[49] Recounted at length in a subsequent letter, to be quoted later on.
+
+
+
+
+_AT ALL BOOKSELLERS._
+
+WORD PORTRAITS OF FAMOUS WRITERS.
+
+EDITED BY MABEL E. WOTTON.
+
+In large crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.
+
+
+'"The world has always been fond of personal details respecting men who
+have been celebrated." These were the words of Lord Beaconsfield, and with
+them he prefixed his description of the personal appearance of Isaac
+d'Israeli.... The above work contains an account of the face, figure,
+dress, voice, and manner of our best known writers, ranging from Geoffrey
+Chaucer to Mrs. Henry Wood--drawn in all cases, when it is possible, by
+their contemporaries. British writers only are named, and amongst them no
+living author.'--FROM THE PREFACE.
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+ Joseph Addison.
+ Harrison Ainsworth.
+ Jane Austen.
+ Francis, Lord Bacon.
+ Joanna Baillie.
+ Benjamin, Lord Beaconsfield.
+ Jeremy Bentham.
+ Richard Bentley.
+ James Boswell.
+ Charlotte Bronte.
+ Henry, Lord Brougham.
+ Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
+ John Bunyan.
+ Edmund Burke.
+ Robert Burns.
+ Samuel Butler.
+ George, Lord Byron.
+ Thomas Campbell.
+ Thomas Carlyle.
+ Thomas Chatterton.
+ Geoffrey Chaucer.
+ Philip, Lord Chesterfield.
+ William Cobbett.
+ Hartley Coleridge.
+ Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
+ William Collins.
+ William Cowper
+ George Crabbe.
+ Daniel De Foe.
+ Charles Dickens.
+ Isaac D'Israeli.
+ John Dryden.
+ Mary Anne Evans (George Eliot).
+ Henry Fielding.
+ John Gay.
+ Edward Gibbon.
+ William Godwin.
+ Oliver Goldsmith.
+ David Gray.
+ Thomas Gray.
+ Henry Hallam.
+ William Hazlitt.
+ Felicia Hemans.
+ James Hogg.
+ Thomas Hood.
+ Theodore Hook.
+ David Hume.
+ Leigh Hunt.
+ Elizabeth Inchbald.
+ Francis, Lord Jeffrey.
+ Douglas Jerrold.
+ Samuel Johnson.
+ Ben Jonson.
+ John Keats.
+ John Keble.
+ Charles Kingsley.
+ Charles Lamb.
+ Letitia Elizabeth Landon.
+ Walter Savage Landor.
+ Charles Lever.
+ Matthew Gregory Lewis.
+ John Gibson Lockhart.
+ Sir Richard Lovelace.
+ Edward, Lord Lytton.
+ Thomas Babington Macaulay.
+ William Maginn.
+ Francis Mahony (Father Prout).
+ Frederick Marryat.
+ Harriet Martineau.
+ Frederick Denison Maurice.
+ John Milton.
+ Mary Russell Mitford.
+ Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.
+ Thomas Moore.
+ Hannah More.
+ Sir Thomas More.
+ Caroline Norton.
+ Thomas Otway.
+ Samuel Pepys.
+ Alexander Pope.
+ Bryan Waller Procter.
+ Thomas de Quincey.
+ Ann Radcliffe.
+ Sir Walter Raleigh.
+ Charles Reade.
+ Samuel Richardson.
+ Samuel Rogers.
+ Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
+ Richard Savage.
+ Sir Walter Scott.
+ William Shakespeare.
+ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley.
+ Percy Bysshe Shelley.
+ Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
+ Sir Philip Sidney.
+ Horace Smith.
+ Sydney Smith.
+ Tobias Smollett.
+ Robert Southey.
+ Edmund Spenser.
+ Arthur Penrhyn Stanley.
+ Sir Richard Steele.
+ Laurence Sterne.
+ Sir John Suckling.
+ Jonathan Swift.
+ William Makepeace Thackeray.
+ James Thomson.
+ Anthony Trollope.
+ Edmund Waller.
+ Horace Walpole.
+ Izaac Walton.
+ John Wilson.
+ Ellen Wood (Mrs. Henry Wood).
+ William Wordsworth.
+ Sir Henry Wotton.
+
+ RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
+ Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen.
+
+
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