Mrs. Shelley Part 3

What deceptions beside self-deception must have been necessary to carry out so wild a project can be imagined; for certainly neither G.o.dwin nor, still less, his wife, was inclined to sanction so illegal and unjust an act. We see, from Hogg's description, how impa.s.sioned was a meeting between Mary and Sh.e.l.ley, which he chanced to witness; and later on Sh.e.l.ley is said to have rushed into her room with laudanum, threatening to take it if she would not have pity on him.

These and such like scenes, together with the philosophical notions which Mary must have imbibed, led up to her acting at sixteen as she certainly would not have done at twenty-six; but now her knowledge of the world was small, her enthusiasm great--and evidently she believed in Harriet's faithlessness--so that love added to the impatience of youth, which could not foresee the dreadful future. Without doubt, could they both have imagined the scene by the Serpentine three years later, they would have shrunk from the action which was a strong link in the chain that conduced to it.

But now all thoughts but love and self, or each for the other, were set aside, and on July 20, 1814, we find Mary G.o.dwin leaving her father's house before five o'clock in the morning, much as Harriet had left her home three years earlier.

An entry made by Mary in a copy of _Queen Mab_ given to her by Sh.e.l.ley, and dated in July 1814, shows us how a few days before their departure they had not settled on so desperate a move. The words are these:--"This book is sacred to me, and as no other creature shall ever look into it, I may write in it 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."

Mary in her novel of _Lodore_, published in 1835, gave a version of the differences between Harriet and Sh.e.l.ley. Though Lord Lodore is more an impersonation of Mary's idea of Lord Byron than of Sh.e.l.ley, Cornelia Santerre, the heroine, may be partly drawn from Harriet, while Lady Santerre, her match-making mother, is taken from Eliza Westbrook. Lady Santerre, when her daughter is married, still keeps her under her influence. She is described as clever, though uneducated, with all the petty manoeuvring which frequently accompanies this condition. When differences arise between Lodore and his wife the mother, instead of counselling conciliation, advises her daughter to reject her husband's advances. Under these circ.u.mstances estrangements lead to hatred, and Cornelia declares she will never quit her mother, and desires her husband to leave her in peace with her child. This Lodore will not consent to, but takes the child with him to America. The mother-in-law speaks of desertion and cruelty, and instigates law proceedings. By these proceedings all further hope is lost. We trace much of the history of Sh.e.l.ley and Harriet in this romance, even to the age of Lady Lodore at her separation, which is nineteen, the same age as Harriet's. Lady Lodore henceforth is regarded as an injured and deserted wife. This might apply equally to Lady Byron; but there are traits and descriptions evidently applicable to Harriet. Lady Santerre encourages her to expect submission later from her husband, but the time for that is pa.s.sed. We here trace the period when Sh.e.l.ley also begged his wife to be reconciled to him in May, and likewise Harriet's attempt at reconciliation with Sh.e.l.ley, all too late, in July, when Sh.e.l.ley had an interview with his wife and explanations were given, which ended in Harriet apparently consenting to a separation. The interview resulted in giving Harriet an illness very dangerous in her state of health; she was even then looking forward to the birth of a child. It is true that Sh.e.l.ley is said to have believed that this child was not his, though later he acknowledged this belief was not correct. The name of a certain Major Ryan figures in the domestic history of the Sh.e.l.leys at this time; but certainly there seems no evidence to convict poor Harriet upon, although G.o.dwin at a later date informed Sh.e.l.ley that he had evidence of Harriet having been false to him four months before he left her.

This evidence is not forthcoming, and the position of his daughter Mary may have made slender evidence seem more weighty at the time to G.o.dwin; in fact, the small amount of evidence of any kind respecting Sh.e.l.ley's and Harriet's disagreements and separation seems to point to the curious anomaly in Sh.e.l.ley's character, that while he did not hesitate to act upon his avowed early and crude opinions as to the duration of marriage--opinions which he later expressed disapproval of in his own criticism of _Queen Mab_--yet the innate feeling of a gentleman forbade him to talk of his wife's real or supposed defects even to his intimate friends. Thus when Peac.o.c.k cross-questioned him about his liking for Harriet, he only replied, "Ah, but you do not know how I hated her sister."

However more or less faulty, or sinned against, or sinning, we must now leave Harriet for a while and accompany Sh.e.l.ley and Mary on that 28th of July when she left her father's house with Jane, henceforth called "Claire" Clairmont, to meet Sh.e.l.ley near Hatton Garden about five in the morning. Of the subsequent journey we have ample records, for with this tour Mary also began a life of literary work, in which she was fortunately able to confide much to the unknown friend, the public, which though not always directly grateful to those who open their hearts to it, is still eager for their works and influenced by them. And so from Mary herself we learn all that she cared to publish from her journal in the _Six Weeks' Tour_, and now we have the original journal by Mary and Sh.e.l.ley, as given by Professor Dowden. We must repeat for Mary the oft-told tale of Sh.e.l.ley; for henceforth, till death separates them, their lives are together.

On July 27, 1814, having previously arranged a plan with Mary, which must have been also known to Claire in spite of her statement that she only thought of taking an early walk, Sh.e.l.ley ordered the postchaise, and, as Claire says, he and Mary persuaded her to go too, as she knew French, with which language they were unfamiliar. Sh.e.l.ley gives the account of the subsequent journey to Dover and pa.s.sage to Calais, of the first security they felt in each other in spite of all risk and danger. Mary suffered much physically, and no doubt morally, having to pause at each stage on the road to Dover in spite of the danger of being overtaken, owing to the excessive heat causing faintness. On reaching Dover they found the packet already gone at 4 o'clock, so, after bathing in the sea and dining, they engaged a sailing boat to take them to Calais, and once more felt security from their pursuers; for, undoubtedly, had they been found in England, Sh.e.l.ley would have been unable to carry out his plan.

They were not allowed to pa.s.s the Channel together without danger, for after some hours of calm, during which they could make no progress, a violent squall broke, and the sails of the little boat were well nigh shattered, the lightning and thunder were incessant, and the imminent danger gave Sh.e.l.ley cause for serious thought, as he with difficulty supported the sleeping form of Mary in his arms. Surely all this scene is well described in "The Fugitives"--

While around the lashed ocean.

Though Mary woke to hear they were still far from land, and might be forced to make for Boulogne if they could not reach Calais, still with the dawn of a fresh day the lightning paled, and at length they were landed on Calais sands, and walked across them to their hotel. The fresh sights and sounds of a new language soon restored Mary, and she was able to remark the different costumes; and the salient contrast from the other side of the Channel could not fail to charm three young people so open to impressions. But before night they were reminded that there were others whom their destiny affected, for they were informed that a "fat lady" had been inquiring for them, who said that Sh.e.l.ley had run away with her daughter. It was poor Mrs. G.o.dwin who had followed them through heat and storm, and who hoped at least to induce her daughter Claire to return to the protection of G.o.dwin's roof; but this, after mature deliberation, which Sh.e.l.ley advised, she refused to do. Having escaped so far from the routine and fancied dulness of home life, the impetuous Claire was not to be so easily debarred from sharing in the magic delight of seeing new countries and gaining fresh experience. So Mrs. G.o.dwin returned alone, to make the best story she could so as to satisfy the curious about the strange doings in her family.

Meanwhile the travellers proceeded by diligence on the evening of the 30th to Boulogne, and then, as Mary was far from well, hastened on their journey to Paris, where by a week's rest, in spite of many annoyances through want of money and difficulty in procuring it, Mary regained sufficient strength to enjoy some of the interesting sights.

A pedestrian tour was undertaken across France into Switzerland. In Paris the entries in the diary are chiefly Sh.e.l.ley's; he makes some curious remarks about the pictures in the Louvre, and mentions with pleasure meeting a Frenchman who could speak English who was some help, as Claire's French does not seem to have stood the test of a lengthy discussion on business at that time. At length a remittance of sixty pounds was received, and they forthwith settled to buy an a.s.s to carry the necessary portmanteau and Mary when unable to walk; and so they started on their journey in 1814, across a country recently devastated by the invading armies of Europe. They were not to be deterred by the harrowing tales of their landlady, and set out for Charenton on the evening of August 8, but soon found their a.s.s needed more a.s.sistance than they did, which necessitated selling it at a loss and purchasing a mule the next day. On this animal Mary set out dressed in black silk, accompanied by Claire in a like dress, and by Sh.e.l.ley who walked beside. This primitive way of travelling was not without its drawbacks, especially after the disastrous wars. Their fare was of the coa.r.s.est, and their accommodation frequently of the most squalid; but they were young and enthusiastic, and could enter with delight into the fact that Napoleon had slept in their room at one inn. And the picturesque though frequently ruined French towns, with their ramparts and old cathedrals, gave them happiness and content; on the other hand, the dirt, discomfort, and ignorance they met with were extreme. At one wretched village, Echemine, people would not rebuild their houses as they expected the Cossacks to return, and they had not heard that Napoleon was deposed; while two leagues farther, at Pavillon, all was different, showing the small amount of communication between one town and another in France at that time.

Sh.e.l.ley was now obliged to ride the mule, having sprained his ankle, and on reaching Troyes Mary and Claire were thoroughly fatigued with walking. There they had to reconsider ways and means; the mule, no longer sufficing, was sold and a _voiture_ bought, and a man and a mule engaged for eight days to take them to Neuchatel. But their troubles did not end here, for the man turned out far more obstinate than the mule, and was determined to enjoy the sweets of tyranny: he stopped where he would, regardless of accommodation or no accommodation, and went on when he chose, careless whether his travellers were in or out of the carriage. Mary describes how they had to sit one night over a wretched kitchen fire in the village of Mort, till they were only too glad to pursue their journey at 3 A.M. In fact, in those days Mary was able, in the middle of France, to experience the same discomforts which tourists have now to go much farther to find out. Their tour was far different from a later one described by Mary, when comfortable hotels are chronicled; but, oh!

how she then looked back to the happy days of this time. The trio would willingly have prolonged the present state of things; but, alas!

money vanished in spite of frugal fare, and they decided, on arriving in Switzerland, and with difficulty raising about thirty-eight pounds in silver, that their only expedient was to return to England in the least expensive way possible. They first tried, however, to live cheaply in an old chateau on the lake of Arx, which they hired at a guinea a month; but the discomfort and difficulties were too great, and even the customary resources of reading and writing failed to induce them to remain in these circ.u.mstances. They at one time contemplated a journey south of the Alps, but, only twenty-eight pounds remaining to live on from September till December, they naturally felt it would be safer to return to England, and decided to travel the eight hundred miles by water as the cheapest mode of transit. They proceeded from Lucerne by the Reuss, descending several falls on the way, but had to land at Loffenberg as the falls there were impa.s.sable. The next day they took a rude kind of canoe to Mumph, when they were forced to continue their journey in a return cabriolet; but this breaking down, they had to walk some distance to the nearest place for boats, and were fortunate in meeting with some soldiers to carry their box. Having procured a boat they reached Basle by the evening, and leaving there for Mayence the next morning in a boat laden with merchandise. This ended their short Swiss tour; but they pa.s.sed the time delightfully, Sh.e.l.ley reading Mary Wollstonecraft's letters from Norway, and then, again, perfectly entranced, as night approached, with the magic effects of sunset sky, hills surmounted with ruined castles, and the reflected colours on the changing stream.

They proceeded in this manner, staying for the night at inns, and taking whatever boat could be found in the morning. Thus they reached Cologne, pa.s.sing the romantic scenery of the Rhine, recalled to them later when reading _Childe Harold_. From this point they proceeded through Holland by diligence, as they found travelling by the ca.n.a.ls and winding rivers would be too slow, and consequently more expensive. Mary does not appear to have been impressed with the picturesque flat country of Holland, and gladly reached Rotterdam; but they were unfortunately detained two days at Marsluys by contrary winds, spending their last guinea, but feeling triumphant in having travelled so far for less than thirty pounds.

The captain, being an Englishman, ventured to cross the bar of the Rhine sooner than the Dutch would have done, and consequently they returned to England in a severe squall, which must have recalled the night of their departure and banished tranquillity from their minds, if they had for a time been soothed by the changing scenes and their trust in each other.

This account, taken chiefly from Mary's _Six Weeks' Tour_, published in 1817 first, differs in some details from the diary made at the time. In the published edition the names are suppressed. Nor does Mary refer to the extraordinary letter written by Sh.e.l.ley from Troyes on August 13, to the unfortunate Harriet, inviting her to come and stay with them in Switzerland, writing to her as his "dearest Harriet," and signing himself "ever most affectionately yours."

Fortunately the proposal was not carried out; probably neither Harriet nor Mary desired the other's company, and Sh.e.l.ley was saved the ridicule, or worse, of this arrangement.

CHAPTER V.

LIFE IN ENGLAND.

On leaving the vessel at Gravesend, they engaged a boatman to take them up the Thames to Blackwall, where they had to take a coach, and the boatman with them, to drive about London in search of money to pay him. There was none at Sh.e.l.ley's banker, nor elsewhere, so he had to go to Harriet, who had drawn every pound out of the bank. He was detained two hours, the ladies having to remain under the care of the boatman till his return with money, when they bade the boatman a friendly farewell and proceeded to an hotel in Oxford Street.

With Sh.e.l.ley and Mary's return to England their troubles naturally were not at an end. Instead of money and security, debts and overdue bills a.s.sailed Sh.e.l.ley on all sides; so much so, that he dared not remain with Mary at this critical moment of their existence, when she, unable to return to her justly indignant father, had to stay in obscure lodgings with Claire, while Sh.e.l.ley, from some other retreat, ransacked London for money from attorneys and on post obits at gigantic interest. We have now letters which pa.s.sed between Mary and Sh.e.l.ley at this time; also Mary's diary, which recounts many of their misadventures.

Day after day we have such phrases as (October 22) "Sh.e.l.ley goes with Peac.o.c.k to the lawyers, but nothing is done," till on December 21 we find that an agreement is entered into to repay by three thousand pounds a loan of one thousand. G.o.dwin, even if he would have helped, could not have done so, as his own affairs were now in their perennial state of distress; and before long, one of Sh.e.l.ley's chief anxieties was to raise two hundred pounds to save Mary's father from bankruptcy, although apparently they only communicated through a lawyer. It is curious to note how Mary complains of the selfishness of Harriet; poor Harriet who, according to Mrs. G.o.dwin, still hoped for the return of her husband's affection to herself, and who sent for Sh.e.l.ley, after pa.s.sing a night of danger, some time before her confinement. At one time Mary entertained an idea, rightly or wrongly conceived, that Harriet had a plan for ruining her father by dissuading Hookham from bailing him out from a menaced arrest. And so we find, in the extracts from the joint diary of Mary and Sh.e.l.ley, Harriet written of as selfish, as indulging in strange behaviour, and even, when she sends her creditors to Sh.e.l.ley, as the nasty woman who compels them to change their lodgings.

Before this entry of January 2, 1815, Harriet had given birth (November 30) to a second child, a son and heir, which fact Mary notes a week later as having been communicated to them in a letter from a _deserted_ wife. What recriminations and heart-burnings, neglect felt on one side and "insulting selfishness" on the other! In April, Mary writes, "Sh.e.l.ley pa.s.ses the morning with Harriet, who is in a surprisingly good humour;" and then we hear how Sh.e.l.ley went to Harriet to procure his son who is to appear in one of the courts; and yet once more Mary writes, "Sh.e.l.ley goes to Harriet about his son, returns at four; he has been much teased by Harriet"; and then a blank as to Harriet, for the diary is lost from May 1815 to July 1816.

In the meantime we see in the diary how Mary, far from well at times, is happy in her love of Sh.e.l.ley--how they enjoy intellectual pleasures together. They fortunately were satisfied with each other's company, as most of their few friends fell from them, Mrs. Boinville writing a "cold and even sarcastic letter;" the Newtons were considered to hold aloof; and Mrs. Turner, whom they saw a little, told Sh.e.l.ley her brother considered "you've been playing a German tragedy." Sh.e.l.ley replied, "Very severe, but very true." About this time Hogg renewed his acquaintance with Sh.e.l.ley and made that of Mary, though at first his answer to Sh.e.l.ley's letter was far from sympathetic. On his first visit they also were disappointed with him; but a little later (November 14) Hogg called at his friend's lodging in Nelson Square, when he made a more favourable impression on Sh.e.l.ley by being himself pleased with Mary. She in return found him amusing when he jested, but far astray in his opinions when discussing serious matters--in fact, on a later visit of his, she finds Hogg makes a sad bungle, quite muddled on the point when in an argument on virtue. In spite of being shocked by Hogg in matters of philosophy and ethics, she gets to like him better daily, and he helps them to pa.s.s the long November and December evenings with his lively talk. On one occasion he would describe an apparition of a lady whom he had loved, and who, he averred, visited him frequently after her death. They were all much interested, but annoyed by the interruption of Claire's childish superst.i.tions. In fact, Hogg glides back to the old friends.h.i.+p of the university days, and his witticisms must have beguiled many a leisure hour, while he would also help Mary with her Latin studies now commenced. Claire frequently accompanied Sh.e.l.ley in his walks to the lawyers and other business engagements, as Mary's health not infrequently prevented her taking long walks, and Claire stated later that Sh.e.l.ley had a positive fear of being alone in London, as he was haunted by the fear of an attack from Leeson, the supposed Tanyrallt a.s.sa.s.sin.

Claire's cleverness and liveliness made her a pleasant companion at times for Sh.e.l.ley and Mary; but even had they been sisters--and they had been brought up together as such--Mary might have found her constant presence in confined lodgings irksome, especially as Claire tormented herself with superst.i.tious alarms which at times, even in reading Shakespeare, quite overcame her. Her fanciful imagination also conjured up causes of offence where none were intended, and magnified slight changes of mood on Sh.e.l.ley's or Mary's part into intentional affronts, when she ought rather to have taken Mary's delicate health and difficult position into consideration. Mary, by all accounts, seems naturally to have had a sweet and unselfish disposition, although she had sufficient character to be self-absorbed in her work, without which no work is worth doing. It is true that her friend Trelawny later appeared to consider her somewhat selfishly indifferent to some of Sh.e.l.ley's caprices or whims; but this was with the pardonable weakness of a man who, although he liked character in a woman, still considered it was her first duty to indulge her husband in all his freaks. However this may be, we have constantly recurring such entries in the joint diary as:--"Nov. 9.--Jane gloomy; she is very sullen with Sh.e.l.ley. Well, never mind, my love, we are happy.

Nov. 10.--Jane is not well, and does not speak the whole day.... Go to bed early; Sh.e.l.ley and Jane sit up till twelve talking; Sh.e.l.ley talks her into good humour." Then--"Sh.e.l.ley explains with Clara."

Again--"Sh.e.l.ley and Clara explain as usual."

Mary writes--"Nov. 26.--Work, &c. &c. Clara in ill humour. She reads _The Italian_. Sh.e.l.ley sits up and talks her into humour." Dec.

19.--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." Clara herself writes as early as October--"Mary says things which I construe into unkindness.

I was wrong. We soon became friends; but I felt deeply the imaginary cruelties I conjured up."

It is clear that where such constant explaining is necessary there could not be much satisfaction in perpetual intimacy.

Mary is amused at the way Sh.e.l.ley and Claire sit up and "frighten themselves" by different reasons or forms of superst.i.tion, and on one occasion we have their two accounts of the miraculous removal of a pillow in Claire's room, Claire avowing it had moved while she did not see it; and Sh.e.l.ley attesting the miracle because the pillow was on a chair, much as Victor Hugo describes the peasants of Brittany declaring that "the frog _must_ have talked on the stone because there was the stone it talked upon." The result might certainly have been injurious to Mary, who was awakened by the excited entrance of Claire into her room. Sh.e.l.ley had to interpose and get her into the next room, where he informed Claire that Mary was not in a state of health to be suddenly alarmed. They talked all night, till the dawn, showing Sh.e.l.ley in a very haggard aspect to Claire's excited imagination (Sh.e.l.ley had been quite ill the previous day, as noted by Mary). She excited herself into strong convulsions, and Mary had finally to be called up to quiet her. The same effect tried a little later fortunately fell flat; but there seemed no end to the vagaries of Claire's "unsettled mind" as Sh.e.l.ley calls it, for she takes to walking in her sleep and groaning horribly, Sh.e.l.ley watching for two hours, finally having to take her to Mary. Certainly philosophy did not seem to have a calming effect on Claire Claremont's nature, and often must Sh.e.l.ley and Mary have bemoaned the fatal step of letting her leave her home with them. It was more difficult to induce her to return, if indeed it was possible for her to do so, with the remaining sister, f.a.n.n.y, still under G.o.dwin's roof. f.a.n.n.y's reputation was jealously looked after by her aunts Everina and Eliza, who contemplated her succeeding in a school they had embarked in in Ireland. But it is not to be wondered at that the excitable, lively Clara should have groaned and bemoaned her fate when transferred from the exhilaration of travel and the beauties of the Rhine and Switzerland to the monotony of London life in her anomalous position; and although both Mary and Sh.e.l.ley evidently wished to be kind to her, she felt more her own wants than their kindness. Want of occupation and any settled purpose in life caused pillows and fire-boards to walk in poor Claire's room, much as other uninteresting objects have to a.s.sume a fict.i.tious interest in the houses and lives of many fas.h.i.+onably unoccupied ladies of the present day, who divide their interest between a tw.a.n.ging voice or a damp hand and the last poem of the last fas.h.i.+onable poet. Sh.e.l.ley is not the only imaginative and simple-minded poet who could apparently believe in such a phenomenon as a faded but supernatural flower slipped under his hand in the dark, other people in whom he has faith being present, and perchance helping in the performance. Genius is often very confiding.

Peac.o.c.k was perhaps the one other friend who, during these sombre, if not altogether unhappy, days of Mary, visited them in their lodgings.

Sh.e.l.ley, through him, hears of some of the movements of his family, and at one time Mary enters with delight into the romantic idea of carrying off two heiresses (Sh.e.l.ley's sisters) to the west coast of Ireland. This idea occupies them for some days through many delightful walks and talks with Hogg. Peac.o.c.k also frequently accompanied Sh.e.l.ley to a pond touching Primrose Hill, where the poet would take a fleet of paper boats, prepared for him by Mary, to sail in the pond, or he would twist paper up to serve the purpose--it must have been a relaxation from his projects of Reform.

We must not leave this delightfully unhappy time without making reference to the series of letters exchanged between Mary and Sh.e.l.ley during an enforced separation. Unseen meetings had to be arranged to avoid encounters with bailiffs, at a time when the landlady refused to send them up dinner, as she wanted her money, and Sh.e.l.ley, after a hopeless search for money, could only return home--with cake. During this time some of their most precious letters were written to each other. We cannot refrain from quoting some touching pa.s.sages after Mary had received letters from Sh.e.l.ley expressing the greatest impatience and grief at his separation from her, appointing vague meeting-places where she had to walk backwards and forwards from street to street, in the hopes of a meeting, and fearful animosity against the whole race of lawyers, money-lenders, &c., though all his hopes depended on them at the time. The London Coffee House seemed to be the safest meeting-place.

Mary, not very clear about business matters at the time, felt most the separation from her husband: the dangers that surrounded them she only felt in a reflected way through him. They must have confidence in each other, she thinks, and their troubles cannot but pa.s.s, for there is certainly money which must come to them!

She thus writes (October 25):

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 for you. Dearest Sh.e.l.ley, 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 that I shall live on through the day.

Be happy, dear Sh.e.l.ley, and think of me! Why do I say this, dearest and only one? I know how tenderly you love me, and how you repine at your absence from me. When shall we be free from fear of treachery? I send you the letter I told you of from Harriet, and a letter we received yesterday from f.a.n.n.y (this letter made an appointment for a meeting between f.a.n.n.y and Clara); the history of this interview I will tell you when I come, but, perhaps as it is so rainy a day, f.a.n.n.y will not be allowed to come at all. 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 five o'clock, as it is disagreeable to go into such 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.

Two more distracted letters from Sh.e.l.ley follow, showing how he had been in desperation trying to get money from Harriet; how pistols and microscope were taken to a p.a.w.nshop; Davidson, Hookham, and others are the most hopeless villains, but must be propitiated. Trying letters also arrive from Mrs. G.o.dwin, who was naturally much incensed with Mary, and of whom Mary expresses her detestation in writing to Sh.e.l.ley. One more short letter:

October 27.

MY OWN LOVE,

I do not know by what compulsion I am to answer you, but your letter says I must; so I do.

By a miracle I saved your 5, and I will bring it. I hope, indeed, oh, my loved Sh.e.l.ley, we shall indeed be happy. I meet you at three, and bring heaps of Skinner St. news.

Heaven bless my love and take care of him.

HIS OWN MARY.

As many as three and four letters in a day pa.s.s between Sh.e.l.ley and Mary at this time. Another tender, loving letter on October 28, and then they decide on the experiment of remaining together one night.

Warned by Hookham, who regained thus his character for feeling, they dared not return to the London Tavern, but took up their abode for a night or two at a tavern in St. John Street. Soon the master of this inn also became suspicious of the young people, and refused to give more food till he received money for that already given; and again they had to satisfy their hunger with cakes, which Sh.e.l.ley obtained money from Peac.o.c.k to purchase. Another day in the lodgings where the landlady won't serve dinner, cakes again supplying the deficiency.

Still separation, Sh.e.l.ley seeking refuge at Peac.o.c.k's. Fresh letters of despair and love, G.o.dwin's affairs causing great anxiety and efforts on Sh.e.l.ley's part to extricate him. A Suss.e.x farmer gives fresh hope. On November 3 Mary writes very dejectedly. She had been _nearly_ two days without a letter from Sh.e.l.ley, that is, she had received one of November 2 early in the morning, and that of November 3 late in the evening. That day had also brought Mary a letter from her old friends the Baxters, or rather from Mr. David Booth, to whom her friend Isabel Baxter was engaged, desiring no further communication with her. This was a great blow to Mary, as, Isabel having been a great admirer of Mary Wollstonecraft, Mary had hoped she would remain her friend. Mary writes:--"She adores the shade of my mother. But then a married man! It is impossible to knock into some people's heads that Harriet is selfish and unfeeling, and that my father might be happy if he chose. By that cant of selling his daughter, I should half suspect that there has been some communication between the Skinner Street folks and them."