“The Shelleys have made an addition to their party in the person of a
cold scholar, who, I think, has neither taste nor feeling. This, Shelley
will perceive sooner or later, for his warm nature craves sympathy.”
True, and Shelley will fight his way back there to get it–there will be
no way to head him off.
Towards the end of November it was necessary for Shelley to pay a
business visit to London, and he conceived the project of leaving Harriet
and the baby in Edinburgh with Harriet’s sister, Eliza Westbrook,
a sensible, practical maiden lady about thirty years old, who had spent
a great part of her time with the family since the marriage. She was
an estimable woman, and Shelley had had reason to like her, and did like
her; but along about this time his feeling towards her changed. Part of
Shelley’s plan, as he wrote Hogg, was to spend his London evenings with
the Newtons–members of the Boinville Hysterical Society. But, alas,
when he arrived early in December, that pleasant game was partially
blocked, for Eliza and the family arrived with him. We are left
destitute of conjectures at this point by the biographer, and it is my
duty to supply one. I chance the conjecture that it was Eliza who
interfered with that game. I think she tried to do what she could
towards modifying the Boinville connection, in the interest of her young
sister’s peace and honor.
If it was she who blocked that game, she was not strong enough to block
the next one. Before the month and year were out–no date given, let us
call it Christmas–Shelley and family were nested in a furnished house in
Windsor, “at no great distance from the Boinvilles”–these decoys still
residing at Bracknell.
What we need, now, is a misleading conjecture. We get it with
characteristic promptness and depravity:
“But Prince Athanase found not the aged Zonoras, the friend of
his boyhood, in any wanderings to Windsor. Dr. Lind had died
a year since, and with his death Windsor must have lost, for
Shelley, its chief attraction.”
Still, not to mention Shelley’s wife, there was Bracknell, at any rate.
While Bracknell remains, all solace is not lost. Shelley is represented
by this biographer as doing a great many careless things, but to my mind
this hiring a furnished house for three months in order to be with a man
who has been dead a year, is the carelessest of them all. One feels for
him–that is but natural, and does us honor besides–yet one is vexed,
for all that. He could have written and asked about the aged Zonoras
before taking the house. He may not have had the address, but that is
nothing–any postman would know the aged Zonoras; a dead postman would
remember a name like that.
And yet, why throw a rag like this to us ravening wolves? Is it
seriously supposable that we will stop to chew it and let our prey
escape? No, we are getting to expect this kind of device, and to give it
merely a sniff for certainty’s sake and then walk around it and leave it
lying. Shelley was not after the aged Zonoras; he was pointed for
Cornelia and the Italian lessons, for his warm nature was craving
sympathy.
II
The year 1813 is just ended now, and we step into 1814.
To recapitulate, how much of Cornelia’s society has Shelley had, thus
far? Portions of August and September, and four days of July. That is
to say, he has had opportunity to enjoy it, more or less, during that
brief period. Did he want some more of it? We must fall back upon
history, and then go to conjecturing.
“In the early part of the year 1814, Shelley was a frequent
visitor at Bracknell.”
“Frequent” is a cautious word, in this author’s mouth; the very
cautiousness of it, the vagueness of it, provokes suspicion; it makes one
suspect that this frequency was more frequent than the mere common
everyday kinds of frequency which one is in the habit of averaging up
with the unassuming term “frequent.” I think so because they fixed up a
bedroom for him in the Boinville house. One doesn’t need a bedroom if