Shelley: The Pursuit (126 page)

In the second place, Ollier was — as Shelley had suspected — considerably mollified by these signs of popular approval. He contracted definitely with Shelley to bring out a really handsome edition of
Prometheus Unbound
in the late summer of 1820, and he also agreed to print a small collection of short poems with it. These were to include the ‘Ode to the West Wind’, ‘The Sensitive Plant’, ‘A Vision of the Sea’ and ‘Ode to Liberty’. Shelley continued to send other short poems for inclusion during June and July.
[5]
John Gisborne agreed to act as Shelley’s proof-reader in London, and eventually became his
de facto
literary agent.
⁶⁴
On top of this, Ollier had apparently intimated to Hunt that he was after all considering an anonymous publication of
Peter Bell the Third
.
⁶⁵
Only by the autumn was it clear that nothing could be expected in this quarter, though Mary herself wrote asking the Gisbornes secretly to find an alternative publisher.
⁶⁶

The loss of
The Mask of Anarchy, A Philosophical View of Reform
and the
Popular Songs
(and the actual loss of
Peter Bell
) now seemed a subject for regret, but for acquiescence. Shelley had already yielded in principle at the end of May, though with a shrug. ‘It seems that I have no other alternative but to keep in with [Ollier], he having so many of my writings in his possession. . . . So I had better make the best of a bad business . . . . I must say that he has not cheated me in the commission, — but on the contrary I offered him 20 per cent, & he will accept only 10 — . So much for Ollier.’
⁶⁷
Not Jesus Christ perhaps, but at least an honest Pharisee.

But there was another more personal reason for Shelley’s acquiescence. For in June, after the quiet spring months at Casa Frassi, a private crisis broke over the Shelley household which required his full attention. They had intended to move for the summer to the Bagni di Lucca at about this time, but events dictated otherwise. On 9 June, according to her certificate, little Elena Adelaide Shelley died at Naples. So far as appears from Shelley’s correspondence with the Gisbornes, this news did not reach him until some time between 2 and 7 July, although he knew of a ‘severe fever’ by 30 June. But it appears to have reached Paolo Foggi within a matter of a very few days. The affair that had previously been settled by an arrangement to administer 150 ducats now escalated into one of direct blackmail. On Monday, 12 June, the Shelleys were packing up to depart for Lucca when, by method unknown, news reached them of Paolo Foggi’s threats and demands. Both Claire and Mary were now
au fait
. Claire entered in her diary: ‘Bother & Confusion Packing up. — We sleep in Casa Silva. Oh Bother.’ Mary entered simply ‘Paolo’ followed by a small drawing of a crescent moon.
⁶⁸
The next day they returned to Casa Frassi while Shelley hastened over to consult Frederico del Rosso at Livorno. Claire entered: ‘The king of England with all his merry men / Marched up a hill & then marched down again.’
⁶⁹
Shelley returned the same evening. The next day Tatty came back from the baths at Casciano, probably to give advice at this difficult moment.
[6]

It was decided that the move to Lucca was impossible and that they would have to stay near del Rosso in Livorno. Shelley had already inquired of the Gisbornes’ servants about making over the Casa Ricci for their use. So, on the
15th, they repacked and moved to Livorno, Claire being sent ahead with the child and the luggage in a
calèsse
. Percy Florence had diarrhoea, and they were all, according to Mary ‘unhappy and discontented’.
⁷⁰
Shelley moved into Henry’s workshop study where he could be alone.

Two days later, however, del Rosso had reassured them, and things did not look quite so bad. Mary wrote to Maria Gisborne in London, explaining their presence at the Casa Ricci: ‘We could not go to the baths of Lucca and finding it necessary to consult an attorney we thought of Del Rosso & came here — Are you pleased or vexed? — Our old friend Paolo was partly the cause of this — by entering into an infamous conspiracy against us — there were other circumstances which I shall not explain till we meet — That same Paolo is a most superlative rascal — I hope we have done with him but I know not — since as yet we are obliged to guess as to his accomplices.’
⁷¹
This letter clearly shows that the business with Paolo had expanded to the proportions of blackmail, and that Mary knew at least the basis of it. It would also appear that Paolo had been talking to other English in the Livorno colony.

On top of Paolo Foggi, Shelley was also being worried once more by the effect which Godwin’s insistent demands for money were having on Mary. On 30 June, he wrote to the Gisbornes: ‘Domestic peace I might have — I may have — if I see you, I shall have — but have not, for Mary suffers dreadfully from the state of Godwin’s circumstances. I am very nervous, but better in general health. We have had a most infernal business with Paolo, whom, however, we have succeeded in crushing. I write from Henry’s study, and I send you some verses I wrote the first day I came, which will show you that I struggle with despondency.’
⁷²
Shelley was premature in supposing that Paolo, and whoever he had involved among the English, had been crushed. Nor did he yet have confirmation of Elena’s death, though he grimly expected it.

The verse against despondency was his ‘Letter to Maria Gisborne’. In it he drew kindly, epigrammatic portraits of his friends in London — Hunt, Hogg, Peacock, even Godwin was included, as a kind of mock-heroic Satan, ‘greater none than he Though fallen — and fallen on evil times’. Shelley imagined the London streets in which they would now be walking about, and the same moon and stars over both of them, ‘beautiful in every land’. But he could not forget other aspects:

But what see you beside? — a shabby stand

Of Hackney coaches — a brick house or wall

Fencing some lonely court, white with the scrawl

Of our unhappy politics; — or worse —

A wretched woman reeling by . . . .
⁷³

The poem is notable for its easy, talking manner, reminiscent of ‘Julian and Maddalo’, and its tight, purposeful grip on the physical details of the room in which Shelley wrote, Henry’s study. He carefully enumerated screws, cones, grooved wooden blocks, machine designs in blue and yellow paint, a heap of rosin, a broken ink-glass, a tea-cup without handle, a paint box, a half-burnt match, a set of logarithm tables and a walnut bowl of mercury.

And in this bowl of quicksilver — for I

Yield to the impulse of an infancy

Outlasting manhood — I have made to float

A rude idealism of a paper boat: —

A hollow screw with cogs — Henry will know

The thing I mean and laugh at me . . . .
⁷⁴

Also enclosed as part of his letter was a cautious scheme to give Godwin £400, if the Gisbornes could first ascertain from legal papers if the sum would make any real difference to Godwin’s overall situation. This offer was made as much to appease Mary as anything else, and Shelley himself was not very eager that the money should be released by the Gisbornes. He added in a postscript that she did not read: ‘You know my situation; you know Godwin’s implacable exactions, you know his boundless and plausible sophistry. On the other hand, if you can effect this compromise the benefits would be great.’
⁷⁵
Wisely, the Gisbornes interpreted these conflicting directions correctly, and the gift was never made. It would certainly have made no lasting difference to Godwin, and would have deprived Shelley of about half a year’s income. But his patience and generosity over Godwin were still extraordinary.

Consultation with del Rosso, and consideration of Godwin, led Shelley to review his whole financial position during July, a thankless task in which he was firmly encouraged by Mary. One of the first results were instructions to Hogg in his legal capacity to try to settle the large bill outstanding at Marlow. Another letter went to Messrs Baldwin the publishers of
Alastor
urging them to pay off the printer out of any profits — a piece of business more than four years outstanding.
⁷⁶
Shelley embarked on a course of Lucretius which was taken in daily dosages with Mary.
⁷⁷
But in the evening, he frequently took the chance to walk out from the Casa Ricci into Livorno with Claire.
⁷⁸

The early summer at the Casa Ricci saw a sharp decline in relations between Claire and Mary. On 4 July, some three weeks after their move from Pisa, things had become bad enough for Claire to note in her diary: ‘Heigh-ho the Clare & the Mai/Find something to fight about every day . . .’.
⁷⁹
For Claire and Shelley there had already been much strain earlier in the summer over Allegra. Doubtful reports of the child’s situation had been received, and Claire had
written directly to Byron threatening to intervene by going herself to Ravenna. At the end of April, a letter from Byron had been forwarded to Pisa by the Hoppners which was far from sympathetic. ‘About Allegra,’ Byron had written, ‘I can only say to Claire — that I so totally disapprove of the mode of Children’s treatment in their family, that I should look upon the Child as going into a hospital. Is it not so? Have they
reared
one? . . . I shall either send her to England, or put her in a Convent for education. . . . But the Child shall not quit me again to perish of Starvation, and green fruit, or be taught to believe that there is no Deity. Whenever there is convenience of vicinity and access, her Mother can always have her with her; otherwise no. It was so stipulated at the beginning.’
⁸⁰

Shelley had much difficulty in soothing Claire and keeping his own temper, but as ever, he found his own way of defending her to Byron. ‘[Claire] has consented to give up this journey to Ravenna. . . . When we meet I can explain to you some circumstances of misrepresentation respecting Allegra which, I think, will lead you to find an excuse for Claire’s anxiety. What letters she writes to you I know not; perhaps they are very provoking; but at all events it is better to forgive the weak. I do not say — I do not think — that your solutions are unwise; only express them mildly — and pray don’t
quote me
.’

Of the attacks upon his own household, he wrote with mild good humour, as he knew Byron would expect of him. ‘I smiled at your protest about what you consider my creed. On the contrary, I think a regard to chastity is quite necessary, as things are, to a young female — that is, to her happiness — and at any time a good habit. As to Christianity — there I am vulnerable; though I should be as little inclined to teach a child disbelief, as belief, as a formal creed. You are misinformed, too, as to our system of physical education . . . .’
⁸¹

On about 7 July — there is some uncertainty about the exact date of his letter — Shelley finally received the news that he had been dreading and he wrote to the Gisbornes about Elena Shelley’s death, bitterly reproaching Paolo Foggi and the English at Livorno for their hatred and schemes and ‘most prodigious falsehoods’. That evening Claire notes that she walked with Shelley. No further record of their conversation remains. ‘As to us,’ Shelley wrote to the Gisbornes, ‘we are uncertain people who are chased by the spirit of our destiny from purpose to purpose, like clouds by the wind.’
⁸²

It is to these days of nagging domestic difficulties and secret gloom that Shelley’s effusive and perhaps understandably sentimental lyrics ‘The Cloud’, and ‘The Skylark’ belong. They reach longingly for the idea of escape into a world of immortal and effortless creativity. Mary thought them extremely fine: ‘It was on a beautiful summer evening, while wandering among the lanes whose myrtle-hedges were the bowers of the fireflies, that we heard the carolling of the skylark which inspired one of the most beautiful of his poems.’ Both lyrics were
dispatched to England just in time to be included in the printing of the
Prometheus
volume, probably on 12 July.
⁸³
It is possible that Claire’s acid note on the progress of the del Rosso lawsuit on 13 July contains a reference to ‘The Skylark’; ‘The Italians say to those who threaten to take the law, “Cantate cantate, e poi farete come la Cicala, scoppiarete” which alludes to the Cicada singing louder & louder if his stomach is rubbed until it finally hurts.’
⁸⁴

Shelley now turned to the more carefully controlled work of translating Homer’s long ‘Hymn to Mercury’, and wrote to Peacock: ‘the Libecchio here howls like a chorus of fiends all day, and the weather is just pleasant, — not at all hot, the days being very misty, and the nights divinely serene. I have been reading with much pleasure the Greek romances.’
⁸⁵
There was of course nothing about del Rosso, or Elena, or Claire. But there was a book list — a Greek grammar and exercises for Mary, Godwin’s
Answer to Malthus
, and optimistically, ‘Six copies of the 2nd edt. of “Cenci”’.
⁸⁶