Defence of Harriet Shelley | Page 9

your husband is poring over the Italian poets and being instructed in the
beautiful Italian language by the lovely Cornelia Robinson"--would that
cozy picture fail to rise before her mind? would its possibilities fail to
suggest themselves to her? would there be a pang in her heart and a
blush on her face? or, on the contrary, would the remark give her
pleasure, make her joyous and gay? Why, one needs only to make the
experiment--the result will not be uncertain.
However, we learn--by authority of deeply reasoned and searching
conjecture--that the baby bore the journey well, and that that was why
the young wife was happy. That accounts for two per cent. of the
happiness, but it was not right to imply that it accounted for the other
ninety-eight also.
Peacock, a scholar, poet, and friend of the Shelleys, was of their party
when they went away. He used to laugh at the Boinville menagerie, and
"was not a favorite." One of the Boinville group, writing to Hogg, said,
"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