by Robert Reed
the necessaries of life, that became scarce. It was difficult to find an
immediate remedy . The usual one of imports was entirely cut off .
In this emergency, to feed the very people to whom we had given
refuge, we were obliged to yield to the plough and the mattock our
pleasure-grounds and parks . Live stock diminished sensibly in the
country, from the effects of the great demand in the market . Even
the poor deer, our antlered proteges, were obliged to fall for the sake
of worthier pensioners . The labour necessary to bring the lands to
this sort of culture, employed and fed the offcasts of the diminished
manufactories .
Adrian did not rest only with the exertions he could make with
regard to his own possessions . He addressed himself to the wealthy
of the land; he made proposals in parliament little adapted to please
the rich; but his earnest pleadings and benevolent eloquence were
irresistible . To give up their pleasure-grounds to the agriculturist,
to diminish sensibly the number of horses kept for the purposes of
luxury throughout the country, were means obvious, but unpleas-
ing . Yet, to the honour of the English be it recorded, that, although
natural disinclination made them delay awhile, yet when the misery
of their fellow-creatures became glaring, an enthusiastic generosity
inspired their decrees. The most luxurious were often the first to part
with their indulgencies . As is common in communities, a fashion
was set . The high-born ladies of the country would have deemed
themselves disgraced if they had now enjoyed, what they before
called a necessary, the ease of a carriage . Chairs, as in olden time,
and Indian palanquins were introduced for the infirm; but else it
was nothing singular to see females of rank going on foot to places
of fashionable resort . It was more common, for all who possessed
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1043
landed property to secede to their estates, attended by whole troops
of the indigent, to cut down their woods to erect temporary dwell-
ings, and to portion out their parks, parterres and flower-gardens,
to necessitous families . Many of these, of high rank in their own
countries, now, with hoe in hand, turned up the soil . It was found
necessary at last to check the spirit of sacrifice, and to remind those
whose generosity proceeded to lavish waste, that, until the present
state of things became permanent, of which there was no likeli-
hood, it was wrong to carry change so far as to make a reaction
difficult. Experience demonstrated that in a year or two pestilence
would cease; it were well that in the mean time we should not have
destroyed our fine breeds of horses, or have utterly changed the face
of the ornamented portion of the country .
It may be imagined that things were in a bad state indeed, before
this spirit of benevolence could have struck such deep roots . The
infection had now spread in the southern provinces of France . But
that country had so many resources in the way of agriculture, that
the rush of population from one part of it to another, and its increase
through foreign emigration, was less felt than with us . The panic
struck appeared of more injury, than disease and its natural con-
comitants .
Winter was hailed, a general and never-failing physician . The
embrowning woods, and swollen rivers, the evening mists, and
morning frosts, were welcomed with gratitude . The effects of puri-
fying cold were immediately felt; and the lists of mortality abroad
were curtailed each week . Many of our visitors left us: those whose
homes were far in the south, fled delightedly from our northern win-
ter, and sought their native land, secure of plenty even after their
fearful visitation . We breathed again . What the coming summer
would bring, we knew not; but the present months were our own,
and our hopes of a cessation of pestilence were high .
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1044
CHAPTER VI.
I have lingered thus long on the extreme bank, the wasting shoal
that stretched into the stream of life, dallying with the shadow of
death . Thus long, I have cradled my heart in retrospection of past
happiness, when hope was . Why not for ever thus? I am not im-
mortal; and the thread of my history might be spun out to the limits
of my existence. But the same sentiment that first led me to pourtray
scenes replete with tender recollections, now bids me hurry on . The
same yearning of this warm, panting heart, that has made me in
written words record my vagabond youth, my serene manhood, and
the passions of my soul, makes me now recoil from further delay . I
must complete my work .
Here then I stand, as I said, beside the fleet waters of the flowing
years, and now away! Spread the sail, and strain with oar, hurrying
by dark impending crags, adown steep rapids, even to the sea of
desolation I have reached . Yet one moment, one brief interval before
I put from shore— once, once again let me fancy myself as I was
in 2094 in my abode at Windsor, let me close my eyes, and imagine
that the immeasurable boughs of its oaks still shadow me, its castle
walls anear . Let fancy pourtray the joyous scene of the twentieth of
June, such as even now my aching heart recalls it .
Circumstances had called me to London; here I heard talk that
symptoms of the plague had occurred in hospitals of that city . I re-
turned to Windsor; my brow was clouded, my heart heavy; I entered
the Little Park, as was my custom, at the Frogmore gate, on my way
to the Castle . A great part of these grounds had been given to culti-
vation, and strips of potatoe-land and corn were scattered here and
there . The rooks cawed loudly in the trees above; mixed with their
hoarse cries I heard a lively strain of music . It was Alfred’s birthday .
The young people, the Etonians, and children of the neighbour-
ing gentry, held a mock fair, to which all the country people were
invited. The park was speckled by tents, whose flaunting colours
and gaudy flags, waving in the sunshine, added to the gaiety of the
scene . On a platform erected beneath the terrace, a number of the
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1045
younger part of the assembly were dancing . I leaned against a tree to
observe them . The band played the wild eastern air of Weber intro-
duced in Abon Hassan; its volatile notes gave wings to the feet of the
dancers, while the lookers-on unconsciously beat time. At first the
tripping measure lifted my spirit with it, and for a moment my eyes
gladly followed the mazes of the dance . The revulsion of thought
passed like keen steel to my heart . Ye are all going to die, I thought;
already your tomb is built up around you . Awhile, because you are
gifted with agility and strength, you fancy that you live: but frail is
the “bower of flesh” that encaskets life; dissoluble the silver cord
than binds you to it . The joyous soul, charioted from pleasure to
pleasure by the graceful mechanism of well-formed limbs, will sud-<
br />
denly feel the axle-tree give way, and spring and wheel dissolve in
dust . Not one of you, O! fated crowd, can escape—not one! not my
own ones! not my Idris and her babes! Horror and misery! Already
the gay dance vanished, the green sward was strewn with corpses,
the blue air above became fetid with deathly exhalations . Shriek, ye
clarions! ye loud trumpets, howl! Pile dirge on dirge; rouse the fu-
nereal chords; let the air ring with dire wailing; let wild discord rush
on the wings of the wind! Already I hear it, while guardian angels,
attendant on humanity, their task achieved, hasten away, and their
departure is announced by melancholy strains; faces all unseemly
with weeping, forced open my lids; faster and faster many groups of
these woe-begone countenances thronged around, exhibiting every
variety of wretchedness—well known faces mingled with the dis-
torted creations of fancy . Ashy pale, Raymond and Perdita sat apart,
looking on with sad smiles. Adrian’s countenance flitted across,
tainted by death—Idris, with eyes languidly closed and livid lips,
was about to slide into the wide grave . The confusion grew—their
looks of sorrow changed to mockery; they nodded their heads in
time to the music, whose clang became maddening .
I felt that this was insanity—I sprang forward to throw it off; I
rushed into the midst of the crowd . Idris saw me: with light step she
advanced; as I folded her in my arms, feeling, as I did, that I thus
enclosed what was to me a world, yet frail as the waterdrop which
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1046
the noon-day sun will drink from the water lily’s cup; tears filled my
eyes, unwont to be thus moistened . The joyful welcome of my boys,
the soft gratulation of Clara, the pressure of Adrian’s hand, contrib-
uted to unman me . I felt that they were near, that they were safe, yet
methought this was all deceit;—the earth reeled, the firm-enrooted
trees moved—dizziness came over me—I sank to the ground .
My beloved friends were alarmed—nay, they expressed their
alarm so anxiously, that I dared not pronounce the word plague, that
hovered on my lips, lest they should construe my perturbed looks
into a symptom, and see infection in my languor . I had scarcely
recovered, and with feigned hilarity had brought back smiles into
my little circle, when we saw Ryland approach .
Ryland had something the appearance of a farmer; of a man
whose muscles and full grown stature had been developed under the
influence of vigorous exercise and exposure to the elements. This
was to a great degree the case: for, though a large landed proprietor,
yet, being a projector, and of an ardent and industrious disposition,
he had on his own estate given himself up to agricultural labours .
When he went as ambassador to the Northern States of America,
he, for some time, planned his entire migration; and went so far as
to make several journies far westward on that immense continent,
for the purpose of choosing the site of his new abode . Ambition
turned his thoughts from these designs—ambition, which labouring
through various lets and hindrances, had now led him to the summit
of his hopes, in making him Lord Protector of England .
His countenance was rough but intelligent—his ample brow
and quick grey eyes seemed to look out, over his own plans, and
the opposition of his enemies . His voice was stentorian: his hand
stretched out in debate, seemed by its gigantic and muscular form, to
warn his hearers that words were not his only weapons . Few people
had discovered some cowardice and much infirmity of purpose un-
der this imposing exterior. No man could crush a “butterfly on the
wheel” with better effect; no man better cover a speedy retreat from
a powerful adversary . This had been the secret of his secession at the
time of Lord Raymond’s election . In the unsteady glance of his eye,
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1047
in his extreme desire to learn the opinions of all, in the feebleness
of his hand-writing, these qualities might be obscurely traced, but
they were not generally known . He was now our Lord Protector .
He had canvassed eagerly for this post . His protectorate was to be
distinguished by every kind of innovation on the aristocracy . This
his selected task was exchanged for the far different one of encoun-
tering the ruin caused by the convulsions of physical nature . He was
incapable of meeting these evils by any comprehensive system; he
had resorted to expedient after expedient, and could never be in-
duced to put a remedy in force, till it came too late to be of use .
Certainly the Ryland that advanced towards us now, bore small
resemblance to the powerful, ironical, seemingly fearless canvasser
for the first rank among Englishmen. Our native oak, as his partisans
called him, was visited truly by a nipping winter . He scarcely ap-
peared half his usual height; his joints were unknit, his limbs would
not support him; his face was contracted, his eye wandering; debil-
ity of purpose and dastard fear were expressed in every gesture .
In answer to our eager questions, one word alone fell, as it were
involuntarily, from his convulsed lips: The Plague .—“Where?”—
“Every where—we must fly—all fly—but whither? No man can
tell—there is no refuge on earth, it comes on us like a thousand
packs of wolves—we must all fly—where shall you go? Where can
any of us go?”
These words were syllabled trembling by the iron man . Adrian
replied, “Whither indeed would you fly? We must all remain; and do
our best to help our suffering fellow-creatures .”
“Help!” said Ryland, “there is no help!—great God, who talks of
help! All the world has the plague!”
“Then to avoid it, we must quit the world,” observed Adrian, with
a gentle smile .
Ryland groaned; cold drops stood on his brow . It was useless
to oppose his paroxysm of terror: but we soothed and encouraged
him, so that after an interval he was better able to explain to us the
ground of his alarm. It had come sufficiently home to him. One of
his servants, while waiting on him, had suddenly fallen down dead .
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1048
The physician declared that he died of the plague . We endeavoured
to calm him—but our own hearts were not calm . I saw the eye of
Idris wander from me to her children, with an anxious appeal to my
judgment . Adrian was absorbed in meditation . For myself, I own
that Ryland’s words rang in my ears; all the world was infected;—
in what uncontaminated seclusion could I save my beloved trea-
sures, until the shadow of death had passed from over the earth? We
sunk into silence: a silence that drank in the doleful accounts and
prognostications of our guest . We had receded from the crowd; and
ascending the steps of the terrace, sought the Castle . Our change
of cheer struck those nearest to us; and, by means of Ryland’s ser-
vants, the report soon spread that he
had fled from the plague in
London . The sprightly parties broke up—they assembled in whis-
pering groups . The spirit of gaiety was eclipsed; the music ceased;
the young people left their occupations and gathered together . The
lightness of heart which had dressed them in masquerade habits,
had decorated their tents, and assembled them in fantastic groups,
appeared a sin against, and a provocative to, the awful destiny that
had laid its palsying hand upon hope and life . The merriment of the
hour was an unholy mockery of the sorrows of man . The foreigners
whom we had among us, who had fled from the plague in their own
country, now saw their last asylum invaded; and, fear making them
garrulous, they described to eager listeners the miseries they had
beheld in cities visited by the calamity, and gave fearful accounts of
the insidious and irremediable nature of the disease .
We had entered the Castle . Idris stood at a window that over-
looked the park; her maternal eyes sought her own children among
the young crowd . An Italian lad had got an audience about him, and
with animated gestures was describing some scene of horror . Alfred
stood immoveable before him, his whole attention absorbed . Little
Evelyn had endeavoured to draw Clara away to play with him; but
the Italian’s tale arrested her, she crept near, her lustrous eyes fixed
on the speaker . Either watching the crowd in the park, or occupied
by painful reflection, we were all silent; Ryland stood by himself in
an embrasure of the window; Adrian paced the hall, revolving some
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new and overpowering idea—suddenly he stopped and said: “I have
long expected this; could we in reason expect that this island should
be exempt from the universal visitation? The evil is come home to
us, and we must not shrink from our fate . What are your plans, my
Lord Protector, for the benefit of our country?”
“For heaven’s love! Windsor,” cried Ryland, “do not mock me
with that title . Death and disease level all men . I neither pretend to
protect nor govern an hospital—such will England quickly become .”
“Do you then intend, now in time of peril, to recede from your
duties?”
“Duties! speak rationally, my Lord!—when I am a plague-spotted
corpse, where will my duties be? Every man for himself! the devil