LORD BYRON’S SILENCE
Shelley, invited by Lord Byron to come to Ravenna so that they might
discuss important matters, found the Pilgrim in brilliant fettle. He
looked in splendid health; for the reign of the Guiccioli had rescued
him from the degrading libertinage of Venice. Fletcher himself had grown
fatter, as the shadow increases in proportion with the body which throws
it.
The Palazzo Guiccioli was a splendid affair, the household mounted on a
royal scale. On the marble staircase Shelley met with every kind of
animal making himself at home. Eight enormous dogs, three monkeys, five
cats, an eagle, a parrot, and a falcon quarrelled together and made it
up as it suited them. There were ten horses in the stables.
Byron welcomed him with great friendliness, and the night was passed in
reading and discussing Byron’s poems. The new cantos of _Don Juan_
appeared admirable to Shelley. His contact with Byron’s genius always
reduced him to despair. Beside the solid structure of Byron’s verse, his
own seemed strangely fragile. He told Byron he ought to write a poem
which would be for his time what the _Iliad_ was for the Greeks. But
Byron affected to despise posterity, and to take no interest in poetry
except at a thousand guineas the canto.
Once again Shelley, the Ascetic, was obliged to adapt himself to the
habits and customs of Byron the Magnificent. They got up at mid-day,
they breakfasted at two, and worked until six in the evening. They rode
from six to eight, dined, and spent the night talking until six o’clock
next morning.
Byron did not talk merely of poetry. From the very first day, and with
the most friendly air in the world, he posted Shelley up in the
scandalous stories circulating about him amongst the English in Italy.
In spite of having promised the Hoppners not to give them away, he
showed Shelley the letter containing the calumnies of Elise. He
declared, of course, that he had never given the smallest credence to
the ridiculous tale, but that the Hoppners should have been so ready to
believe it was to Shelley a heart-breaking blow. He wrote immediately to
Mary.
_Shelley to Mary Shelley._
“RAVENNA, _Aug. 7, 1821_.
“Lord Byron has told me of a circumstance that shocks me
exceedingly, because it exhibits a degree of desperate and
wicked malice, for which I am at a loss to account. When I hear
such things, my patience and my philosophy are put to a severe
proof, whilst I refrain from seeking out some obscure hiding
place, where the countenance of man may never meet me more. It
seems that Elise, actuated either by some inconceivable malice
for our dismissing her, or bribed by my enemies, or making
common cause with her infamous husband, has persuaded the
Hoppners of a story so monstrous and incredible that they must
have been prone to believe any evil to have believed such
assertions upon such evidence. Mr. Hoppner wrote to Lord Byron
to state this story as the reason why he declined any further
communications with us, and why he advised him to do the same.
Elise says that Claire was my mistress; that is very well, and
so far there is nothing new; all the world has heard so much,
and people may believe or not believe as they think good. She
then proceeds to say that Claire was with child by me; that I
gave her most violent medicine to procure abortion; that this
not succeeding she was brought to bed, and that I immediately
tore the child from her and sent it to the Foundling Hospital—I
quote Mr. Hoppner’s words—and this is stated to have taken
place in the winter after we left Este. In addition, she says
that I treated _you_ in the most shameful manner; that I
neglected and beat you, and that Claire never let a day pass
without offering you insults of the most violent kind, in which
she was abetted by me.
“As to what Reviews and the world says, I do not care a jot, but
when persons who have known me are capable of conceiving of
me—not that I have fallen into a great error, as would have
been the living with Claire as my mistress—but that I have
committed such unutterable crimes as destroying or abandoning a
child, and that my own! Imagine my despair of good!
“Imagine how it is possible that one of so weak and sensitive a
nature can run further the gauntlet through this hellish society
of men! _You_ should write to the Hoppners a letter refuting the
charge, in case you believe, and know, and can prove that it is
false, stating the grounds and proofs of your belief. I need not
dictate what you should say, nor, I hope, inspire you with
warmth to rebut a charge which you only can effectually rebut.
If you will send the letter to me here, I will forward it to the
Hoppners.”
_Mary Shelley to Shelley._
“MY DEAR SHELLEY,
“Shocked beyond measure as I was, I instantly wrote the
enclosed. If the task be not too dreadful, pray copy it for me.
I cannot.
“Read that part of your letter which contains the accusation. I
tried, but I could not write it. I think I could as soon have
died. I send also Elise’s last letter: enclose it or not as you
think best.
“I wrote to you with far different feeling last night, beloved
friend. Our barque is indeed ‘tempest-tost,’ but love me, as you
have ever done, and God preserve my child to me, and our enemies
shall not be too much for us.
“Adieu, dearest! Take care of yourself—all yet is well. The
shock for me is over, and I now despise the slander; but it must
not pass uncontradicted. I sincerely thank Lord Byron for his
kind unbelief.
“P.S. Do not think me imprudent in mentioning Claire’s illness
at Naples. It is well to meet facts. They are as cunning as
wicked. I have read over my letter; it is written in haste, but
it were as well that the first burst of feeling should be
expressed.”
_Mary Shelley to Mrs. Hoppner._
“PISA, AUG. 10, 1821.
“After a silence of nearly two years, I address you again, and
most bitterly do I regret the occasion on which I now
write. . . .
“I write to defend him to whom I have the happiness to be
united, whom I love and esteem beyond all living creatures, from
the foulest calumnies; and to you I write this, who were so
kind, and to Mr. Hoppner, to both of whom I indulged the
pleasing idea that I have every reason to feel gratitude. This
is indeed a painful task. Shelley is at present on a visit to
Lord Byron at Ravenna, and I received a letter from him to-day,
containing accounts that make my hand tremble so much that I can
hardly hold the pen.
“He says Claire was Shelley’s mistress, that . . . Upon my word,
I solemnly assure you that I cannot write the words. I send you
a part of Shelley’s letter that you may see what I am now about
to refute, but I had rather die than copy anything so vilely, so
wickedly false, so beyond all imagination fiendish.
“But that you should believe it! That my beloved Shelley should
stand thus slandered in your minds—he, the gentlest and most
humane of creatures—is more painful to me than words can
express. Need I say that the union between my husband and myself
has ever been undisturbed? Love caused our first
imprudence—love which, improved by esteem, a perfect trust one
in the other, has increased daily and knows no bounds. . . .
“Those who know me well believe my simple word—it is not long
ago that my father said, in a letter to me, that he had never
known me utter a falsehood—but you, easy as you have been to
credit evil, who may be more deaf to truth—to you I swear by
all that I hold sacred upon heaven and earth, by a vow which I
should die to write if I affirmed a falsehood—I swear by the
life of my child, by my blessed beloved child, that I know the
accusation to be false. But I have said enough to convince you,
and you are not convinced? Repair, I conjure you, the evil you
have done by retracting your confidence in one so vile as Elise,
and by writing to me that you now reject as false every
circumstance of her infamous tale.
“You were kind to us, and I will never forget it; now I require
justice. You must believe me, and do me, I solemnly entreat you,
the justice to confess that you do so.”
Shelley showed this letter to Byron and asked for the address of
Hoppner, but Byron begged to be allowed to send it himself.
“The Hoppners,” he said, “had extracted a promise from me not to speak
to you of this affair; in openly confessing that I have not kept my
promise I must observe some form. That is why I wish to send the letter
myself. My observations, besides, will give more weight to it.”
Shelley readily consented and gave the letter to his host. Mary never
received an answer.
* * *
The important question that Byron wished to discuss with Shelley was the
fate of Allegra in case he—Byron—should leave Ravenna. Countess
Guiccioli wished to go to Switzerland; Byron, who preferred Tuscany,
begged Shelley to write to the Countess to describe life in Florence and
Pisa in such attractive fashion that she would agree to go to one or the
other.
Shelley had never seen his friend’s mistress, but he was so used to be
asked to intervene in the affairs of his acquaintance that he did not
hesitate to write the letter asked, and it was so vigorous that it
carried the day. It was suddenly decided that Byron and the Countess
should join the Shelleys at Pisa. As to Allegra, Byron agreed to take
her also. Claire not being there, he saw no reason for not doing so.
Before leaving Ravenna, Shelley went to see the child at the Convent of
Bagna-Cavallo. He found her taller, but also more delicate and paler.
Her lovely black hair fell in curls over her shoulders. She appeared in
the midst of her companions as a being of a finer and nobler race. A
kind of contemplative seriousness seemed to overlie her former vivacity.
She was shy at first, but Shelley having given her a gold chain which he
brought from Ravenna, she became more friendly. She led him to the
convent garden, running and skipping so quickly that he could scarcely
follow her; she showed him her little bed, her chair. He asked her what
he should say to her mama.
“Che mi manda un baccio e un bel vestituro.”
“E come voi il vestituro sia fatto?”
“Tutte di seta e d’oro.”
And to her father:
“Che venga farmi un visitino e che porta seco la mammina.”
A difficult message to transmit to her noble father.
The dominant trait of the child seemed to Shelley to be vanity. Her
education was defective, but she could recite a great many prayers by
heart, spoke of Paradise, dreamed of it, and knew long lists of saints.
This was the sort of training that Byron desired.