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.