The Shelleys Move to Marlow – Frankenstein Completed
Finally married after two and half years of pretending not to be living together, Mary and Percy Shelley packed up their temporary lodgings in Bath on February 27, 1817 and moved to what they intended as a permanent residence in Marlow-on-Thames, in Buckinghamshire, found for them by Thomas Love Peacock. They would stay with Peacock for three weeks while Shelley was still traveling to London to attend the Chancery Court fighting with his now dead wife Harriet’s family, the Westbrooks, for the disposition of his children.
They moved into the Albion House on March 18, 1817 which Shelley described before moving in as “a house among woody hills…green fields and this delightful river.” But afterward found to be rather drafty and cold from its proximity to the river, a short distance away. Mary was pregnant again and working on the second notebook volume of Frankenstein.
On March 27, 1817 Shelley would finally be denied the custody of his children, Ianthe and Charles, by the Chancery Court and they would be given to the care of the clergyman in Warwick who had been seeing to them since Harriet’s drowning. The Westbrooks had been threatening Shelley with jail through much of this fight, and it was finally over, or so they thought, with an amount settled for their care.
Despite Mary’s wish that they could, at last, be alone without the constant presence of her stepsister, Clare moved with them. Shelley was still calling her alternately Clare, Claire, or Clara, sometimes in the same letter and Mary complained of her capriciousness. They had engaged a nurse for her newborn infant daughter by Byron, Alba, born in early January. Mary and Percy’s son, William, had just celebrated his first birthday on January 24, and Mary was pregnant again. The house was large enough to accommodate the Shelleys, Clare, their children, servants and visiting guests. The Leigh Hunts came often to stay.
The time in Marlow would be both auspicious and troubled. Mary would complete her novel in a burst of work, writing about 5 pages a day, while muddling through another difficult pregnancy and Shelley would be gone much of the time, trying to manage his debts, his own and the Godwins’.
Shelley had written a pamphlet “A Proposal for Putting Reform to the Vote” by the “Hermit of Marlow”, published by Charles and John Ollier, sending proof copies to a list of influential opinion makers while Mary completed the original copy draft of her own novel by May of 1817.
Shelley also completed his poem of “Laon and Cythna; or, The Revolution of the Golden City”, written, according to Mary, while on his long walks in the woods, especially on his walks up river to Medmenham Abbey, and while sitting in a boat under the Beech groves of Bisham. He finished it in September of 1817 after six months of working on it. On cold days, Shelley could be seen around Marlow in a brown lamb’s wool collar coat and cuffs, and in summer wearing an open-necked shirt. The poem, though disguised as classic reference, was much inspired by his life with Mary in Marlow, and essentially a love letter to her. Their second child, a daughter they named Clara, was born on September 2, 1817, and clearly affected the poem. It also contained a reference to a finished “toil”. Was he referring to her work on Frankenstein, celebrating its completion, or to their new born daughter?
So now my summer-task is ended, Mary,
And I return to thee, mine own heart’s home;
As to his Queen some victor Knight of Faëry,
Earning bright spoils for her enchanted dome;
Nor thou disdain, that ere my fame become
A star among the stars of mortal night,
If it indeed may cleave its natal gloom,
Its doubtful promise thus I would unite
With thy beloved name, thou Child of love and light.
The toil which stole from thee so many an hour
Is ended,—and the fruit is at thy feet!
No longer where the woods to frame a bower
With interlaced branches mix and meet,
Or where with sound like many voices sweet,
Water-falls leap among wild islands green,
Which framed for my lone boat a lone retreat
Of moss-grown trees and weeds, shall I be seen:
But beside thee, where still my heart has ever been.
The poem subtly referenced both their relationship meeting in 1814 and surviving the struggles of their lives in scandal and the turning away of friends in the previous two years, but with a renewed peace.
No more alone through the world’s wilderness,
Although I trod the paths of high intent,
I journeyed now: no more companionless,
Where solitude is like despair, I went. –
There is the wisdom of a stern content
When Poverty can blight the just and good,
When Infamy dares mock the innocent,
And cherished friends turn with the multitude
To trample: this was ours, and we unshaken stood!
Now has descended a serener hour,
And with inconstant fortune, friends return;
Though suffering leaves the knowledge and the power
Which says:—Let scorn be not repaid with scorn.
And from thy side two gentle babes are born
To fill our home with smiles, and thus are we
Most fortunate beneath life’s beaming morn;
And these delights, and thou, have been to me
The parents of the Song I consecrate to thee.
While tending to his own publishing, Shelley also submitted Mary’s novel to publishers. He did not say who the author was, but only referenced as “a friend”. He was purposely being secretive about its true authorship, urging his friend Leigh Hunt to “remain silent”, and even responding to a request for some changes that the author was indeed “not in the country” and Shelley offered to make corrections to language. The manuscript was first submitted to John Murray II, who was publishing Byron’s “Childe Harold”, being overseen by Shelley, and then to Charles Ollier, who was publishing Shelley’s own work, but both declined to publish the disturbing story. It was a disappointment. Why he apparently didn’t offer it to Thomas Hookham is unclear, but Hookham was quite busy. Thomas Love Peacock’s own novel “Melincourt” was published by Hookham at this time, and Hookham would also be publishing Mary’s first credited work, The Six Weeks Tour. Maybe it would be too close for comfort.
Shelley wrote to Leigh Hunt’s wife Marianne for suggestions of other publishers. Finally in August of 1817, Shelley submitted the book to Lackington, Allen and Co., offering a deal for a new unknown author that, rather than a payment advance for the copyright, the publishers would risk the printing and advertising cost, and after deductions of the expense from sales would split the profits with the author. Lackington agreed to publish the work under the title “Frankenstein: or, The Modern Prometheus” with the author anonymous. The publishing preparation would take about three months, during which time Mary would visit London and Skinner Street, to see her father. Her stepmother was away in France at the time which allowed them to be alone.
In the meantime, Mary compiled and edited her diaries of their elopement trip of 1814, including some of Shelley’s material from their time in Geneva and the poem “Mont Blanc”, and would see it published by Thomas Hookham under her own name in December of 1817 as “History of a Six Weeks Tour: A Part of France, Switzerland, Germany, and Holland with Letters Descriptive of a Sail Round the Lake of Geneva, and of the Glaciers of Chamouni”.
During this time, the mysterious fatherhood of Clare Clairmont’s daughter, Alba (sometimes Auburn and later Allegra), began to grow into a threatening scandal. Clare had called herself Mrs. Clairmont in Bath, but her ambitions lead her to not want to pretend to be married. Lurid speculations of what was going on in the Albion household built with suspicions that Alba may have been the product of Shelley and Clare. Mary’s childhood friend Isabel Baxter, would publicly separate from Mary after marrying a rather too proper schoolmaster and brewer, Mr. David Booth, even with an endorsement of Shelley by her father after a visit to Marlow.
Shelley’s health had begun to feel the toll of the dampness of autumn and winter, and he proposed a trip to Italy on advice of his London physician and to take Byron’s daughter to her father. In the last few months of 1817, Shelley was staying much away from Marlow as creditors of his dead wife, Harriet, had come out of the woodwork and were trying to collect on unsuspected debts. Although they had leased the Albion House in Marlow for 21 years, they sold the lease, packed and departed for London on February 10, 1818. They would depart for Italy on March 12, 1818, almost exactly a year after settling in at Marlow.
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An interesting question, as these two most prominent women authors who have survived in popularity to today were being published as contemporaries. There is no known record or mention of one another in their writings and they were not in the same public circles. But it is a tantalizing question anyway.
From Portsmouth, Shelley separated from the two sisters to see his friend, Thomas Peacock, in Great Marlow, while Mary and Clare went to Bath. Clare’s pregnancy by Byron was beginning to show or make her condition, at least, clear by this time, and the idea was to find a distant lodging from London. Mary was still estranged from her father for her relationship with Shelley and they thought to conceal Clare’s condition. She was still using alternate spellings of her chosen name, Claire or Clare. It was mostly Claire in Switzerland and France using the French spelling, and Clare or Clara in England. Mary was confused enough to use both spellings in the same letter, while others of the family were still calling her by her birth name, Jane (Mary Jane, after her mother).
These were the only entries in Mary’s daily diary of the news of the suicide of her twenty-two year old elder half-sister, Fanny Imlay Godwin. The entries are characteristic of Mary’s decidedly terse and brief references to the most wrenching of events in her life recorded in her daily accounts. This was during the time in which she and her younger step-sister Claire Clairmont Godwin were living in Bath,
How Shelley found Fanny at the Mackworth Arms is unreported, though he probably took the Cambrian Coach from Bristol, just as she had the day before, and arrived at the inn to discover the news which had already been reported. What is less clear is whether they already knew her potential destination in Wales? Was she seeking out a familiar haunt from her youth, or was she thinking of a boat to Ireland? According to a fellow traveler to Swansea she said she had left London by the Post Coach to Bath on Tuesday. Had she seen Mary or Shelley in Bath or had traveled onward on Wednesday? It was still a ferry ride across the Severn River from Bristol to Wales so he could not have followed her that day. Had she waited one more evening, he might have been in time. Shelley felt his own pain at her loss and his own blame. When they had last spoken is not recorded, but was it that Wednesday and she did not find a solace in Bath? Shelley acknowledges that he was perhaps unaware of her real feelings for him when he wrote a requiem poem, though not identifying the subject until Mary published her collection of his works in 1817 as “On F.G.”:
Dr. Stephen Hawking and others have warned about a future where AI could reach a point of existential risk where humans are at danger from machines that out compete human intelligence. This is an idea expressed in movies like “The Terminator”, and have been around since the deep themes of man verses science in the first appearance of Frankenstein. But just in time for Halloween, the geeky researchers at the Media Lab of MIT are asking you to decide if AI machines can figure out how to scare you out of your candy, in what they call the Nightmare Machine of “Haunted Faces” and “Haunted Places”, computer generated scary visions powered by deep learning algorithms.
The concept is to hand the computer algorithm a photograph, it could be a bucolic scene of sunsets and landscapes or a happy smiling face and the program will hand back a creepy manipulated vision intended to give you the shivers. So far, this nightmare device only offers demonstration versions and does not let visitors submit their own images. Currently, they have provided a set of demo photographs that have been morphed from a standard photo to the machine’s idea of what is unsettling to the human eye. For the demonstration they have landscaped settings with various themes like “slaughterhouse” or “alien invasion”. Faces have been twisted into screaming maws of twisted teeth and haunting soul-forsaken eyes. Some of the imagery is perhaps no more scary than a Vincent Van Gogh painting of flowers on Clozapine, but others are decidedly chilling creep outs. The AI machine learning comes in as visitors to the Nightmare Machine are asked to choose which images frighten and which don’t, so the computer algorithm can learn what truly frightens you.
Mary Shelley’s story explored the theme of the unintended consequences of scientific advancement and curiously by a degree of separation was connected to what might be called the first step in artificial intelligence. Lord Byron, now forever connected in literary mythology to the origin of Frankenstein from the stormy summer on Lake Geneva is also the connection to the origins of AI. Ada Lovelace (Augusta Ada Byron King-Noel, Countess of Lovelace), George Gordon Byron’s only legitimate child by his wife, Anne Isabella Milbanke, found an interest in mathematics, and in 1840 wrote the first computing algorithm for Charles Babbage’s Analysis Engine.
The most famous assassination of a Habsburg was the shooting of the Archduke Ferdinand by Yugoslav separatist Gavrilo Princip, while riding in a car in Sarajevo in 1914, which is deemed to be the catalyst which led to the beginning of the First World War. This was not the first murder of an Austro-Hungarian royal while traveling. Mary Shelley set the tragic events of her novel Frankenstein on the shores of Lake Geneva with the murder of Victor Frankenstein’s son on the Plainpalais by the creature he had created. This was the terrible retribution for his hubris of creating a living being and then abandoning him. A similar case might be made for the turning of the anarchists on the imperials in class warfare. The French Revolution, of which Mary’s mother Mary Wollstonecraft had been a witness and had written about, and the resulting end of the Emperor Napoleon, had been one of the draws which had brought Mary and Percy to Paris on their elopement tour in 1814 as told in the
As Geneva celebrates the 200th anniversary of the origination of Frankenstein, for history buff sight-seeking visitors to Geneva who might be drawn by the story of Frankenstein, and looking for more to explore, here is an account of the curious murder of one of the most sympathetic of the Imperial family of Habsburgs who ruled and dominated the life of Central Europe.
On Saturday, the 10th of September, at 1:35 in the afternoon, Sisi and her lady-in-waiting and traveling companion, the Countess Irma Sztáray, 35, left the hotel to walk the short distance to the harbor dock to catch the steamship Genève for a scenic cruise journey to Montreux where she was residing. The empress like many others had followed the “Grand Tour” which began with the writings of Byron and the other romantics. The Empress Sisi didn’t like “processions,” and she had ordered that her servants take the train ahead to Territet on the lake shore at Montreux where they would meet the boat after she had taking the scenic
The two women were strolling on the promenade when a 25-year-old Italian man approached them. In an account by Countess Sztáray, the young man tried to peek under her mistress’s parasol, then, just as the ship’s bell rang to signal the departure, the man stumbled against her and made a movement with his hand as if he was trying to catch his balance. She was unaware at the moment it happened that he was actually holding a small weapon made of a sharpened four inch long needle file embedded into a wooden handle. The attacker was an Italian anarchist named Luigi Lucheni. The tool was used to file the eyes of industrial needles, intended by the assassin as a symbol of the rise of the industrial worker against the oppressor, and he later pronounced this as part of the anarchist creed, the “propaganda of the deed”, promoting the change of society by a violent action. His original plan was to assassinate the Duke of Orleans, a pretender to the throne of France, but the duke had departed on a tour of the Swiss Valais before he could make his move. Then, a Geneva newspaper had reported from the hotel source that a guest staying under the name of the “Countess of Hohenembs” was in fact the Empress Sisi of Austria, and he changed his target.
After Lucheni had made his sly attack and moved swiftly on, neither woman realized the seriousness of what had happened, that she had been stabbed. The empress weakened on her feet and a nearby coach driver rushed to assist her. He signaled to the concierge of the Beau Rivage, an Austrian named Planner, who was watching. Rather than return to the hotel, the coachman helped the two women to the boat dock, about a 100 yards, and up the gangway to board the Genève steamer. Countess Sztáray relaxed her hold on the empress’s arm and at that moment she collapsed unconscious on the boat deck. The companion called urgently for a doctor, but there was none on board and only a fellow passenger, a former nurse, came to aid. The captain of the Genève, a Captain Roux, was unaware of the true identity of the ill passenger and since it was a very hot day, advised that her companion should take her back to the hotel. This was impossible as the boat was already departing from the dock, and sailing out of harbor onto the lake. Three men carried the empress to the top deck and laid her on a bench. Countess Sztáray then opened her gown and cut the laces of her corset so she could take air. The empress came around briefly and her lady-in-waiting asked if she was in pain. “No”, Elizabeth answered, and then asked, “What has happened?” They were her last words as she lost consciousness.
The wife of the hotel chief was a nurse and when she and Sztáray began to undress the empress’s layers, they finally noticed the small stain of blood and the tiny puncture wound. The empress was still. She had breathed her last breaths as they had carried her into the room, but when they lifted her to a bed, she was certainly dead. Two doctors arrived and a priest. Dr. Mayer made a small incision in her arm, but there was no blood flow, and the Empress Elizabeth was pronounced dead at 2:20 pm and that Saturday afternoon. An autopsy was performed by Dr. Golay, who determined that the thin tool, just three and third inches, had pierced the lung and penetrated the heart. The pressure from the tight corsets the empress wore to control her slim figure, had kept the blood flow from the surface and had kept the empress from being aware of the wound. When the corseting was removed, the blood hemorrhage had filled the pericardial sac, stopping the heart.
She had been placed in placed in a triple coffin, with two inner lead linings and a bronze exterior case with lion claw feet. On Tuesday, before the coffins were sealed, Franz Joseph’s official representatives arrived to identify the body. The coffin had two glass panels with doors which could be slid back to view her face. Eighty-three sovereigns and the nobility of the Austro-Hungarian Empire followed the funeral cortege of the hearse to her burial in the Habsburg crypt at the Church of the Capuchins in Vienna. The tomb inscription first denoted “Elisabeth, Empress of Austria”, but the words “and Queen of Hungary” were added after the protests of Hungarians.
The assassin had made his escape from the harbor down the Rue des Alpes and tossed the weapon into the doorway of No. 3 Rue des Alpes, which is now a storefront abutting the
Luigi Lucheni was actually born Paris and left as an orphan and spent most of his life in Switzerland, so he was only really Italian by the parentage of his mother. But the news that the assassin of the adored Sisi was “Italian” caused a wave of anti-Italian reprisals through Switzerland. There was concern that a wave of political attacks was coming from cells of anarchists, but Lucheni claimed he was acting alone. But a few months later, the International Conference for the Social Defense Against Anarchists was held in Rome, but it failed to curb the movement, until another anarchist would fire the shot which sent the world into war and ended empires.