by Robert Reed
another therefore must be named; I have advanced my claim, and
I believe that I shall have no competitor . Tonight the question is to
be decided, as there is a call of the house for the purpose . You must
nominate me, Lionel; Ryland, for shame, cannot shew himself; but
you, my friend, will do me this service?
How lovely is devotion! Here was a youth, royally sprung, bred
in luxury, by nature averse to the usual struggles of a public life, and
now, in time of danger, at a period when to live was the utmost scope
of the ambitious, he, the beloved and heroic Adrian, made, in sweet
simplicity, an offer to sacrifice himself for the public good. The very
idea was generous and noble,—but, beyond this, his unpretending
manner, his entire want of the assumption of a virtue, rendered his
act ten times more touching . I would have withstood his request; but
I had seen the good he diffused; I felt that his resolves were not to be
shaken, so, with an heavy heart, I consented to do as he asked . He
grasped my hand affectionately:—“Thank you,” he said, “you have
relieved me from a painful dilemma, and are, as you ever were, the
best of my friends . Farewell—I must now leave you for a few hours .
Go you and converse with Ryland . Although he deserts his post in
London, he may be of the greatest service in the north of England,
by receiving and assisting travellers, and contributing to supply the
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1057
metropolis with food . Awaken him, I entreat you, to some sense of
duty .”
Adrian left me, as I afterwards learnt, upon his daily task of vis-
iting the hospitals, and inspecting the crowded parts of London . I
found Ryland much altered, even from what he had been when he
visited Windsor . Perpetual fear had jaundiced his complexion, and
shrivelled his whole person . I told him of the business of the eve-
ning, and a smile relaxed the contracted muscles . He desired to go;
each day he expected to be infected by pestilence, each day he was
unable to resist the gentle violence of Adrian’s detention . The mo-
ment Adrian should be legally elected his deputy, he would escape
to safety . Under this impression he listened to all I said; and, el-
evated almost to joy by the near prospect of his departure, he entered
into a discussion concerning the plans he should adopt in his own
county, forgetting, for the moment, his cherished resolution of shut-
ting himself up from all communication in the mansion and grounds
of his estate .
In the evening, Adrian and I proceeded to Westminster . As we
went he reminded me of what I was to say and do, yet, strange to
say, I entered the chamber without having once reflected on my pur-
pose . Adrian remained in the coffee-room, while I, in compliance
with his desire, took my seat in St . Stephen’s . There reigned unusual
silence in the chamber . I had not visited it since Raymond’s protec-
torate; a period conspicuous for a numerous attendance of members,
for the eloquence of the speakers, and the warmth of the debate .
The benches were very empty, those by custom occupied by the
hereditary members were vacant; the city members were there—the
members for the commercial towns, few landed proprietors, and not
many of those who entered parliament for the sake of a career . The
first subject that occupied the attention of the house was an address
from the Lord Protector, praying them to appoint a deputy during a
necessary absence on his part .
A silence prevailed, till one of the members coming to me, whis-
pered that the Earl of Windsor had sent him word that I was to move
his election, in the absence of the person who had been first chosen
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1058
for this office. Now for the first time I saw the full extent of my task,
and I was overwhelmed by what I had brought on myself . Ryland
had deserted his post through fear of the plague: from the same fear
Adrian had no competitor . And I, the nearest kinsman of the Earl of
Windsor, was to propose his election . I was to thrust this selected
and matchless friend into the post of danger— impossible! the die
was cast—I would offer myself as candidate .
The few members who were present, had come more for the sake
of terminating the business by securing a legal attendance, than
under the idea of a debate . I had risen mechanically—my knees
trembled; irresolution hung on my voice, as I uttered a few words
on the necessity of choosing a person adequate to the dangerous task
in hand . But, when the idea of presenting myself in the room of my
friend intruded, the load of doubt and pain was taken from off me .
My words flowed spontaneously—my utterance was firm and quick.
I adverted to what Adrian had already done—I promised the same
vigilance in furthering all his views . I drew a touching picture of his
vacillating health; I boasted of my own strength . I prayed them to
save even from himself this scion of the noblest family in England .
My alliance with him was the pledge of my sincerity, my union with
his sister, my children, his presumptive heirs, were the hostages of
my truth .
This unexpected turn in the debate was quickly communicated to
Adrian . He hurried in, and witnessed the termination of my impas-
sioned harangue . I did not see him: my soul was in my words,—my
eyes could not perceive that which was; while a vision of Adrian’s
form, tainted by pestilence, and sinking in death, floated before
them . He seized my hand, as I concluded— “Unkind!” he cried,
“you have betrayed me!” then, springing forwards, with the air of
one who had a right to command, he claimed the place of deputy
as his own . He had bought it, he said, with danger, and paid for it
with toil . His ambition rested there; and, after an interval devoted to
the interests of his country, was I to step in, and reap the profit? Let
them remember what London had been when he arrived: the panic
that prevailed brought famine, while every moral and legal tie was
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1059
loosened . He had restored order—this had been a work which re-
quired perseverance, patience, and energy; and he had neither slept
nor waked but for the good of his country .—Would they dare wrong
him thus? Would they wrest his hard-earned reward from him, to
bestow it on one, who, never having mingled in public life, would
come a tyro to the craft, in which he was an adept . He demanded the
place of deputy as his right . Ryland had shewn that he preferred him .
Never before had he, who was born even to the inheritance of the
throne of England, never had he asked favour or honour from those
now his equals, but who might have been his subjects . Would they
refuse him? Could they thrust back from the path of distinction and
laudable ambition, the heir of their ancient kings, and heap another
disappointment on a fallen house .
No one had ever before heard Adrian allude to the rights of his
&nbs
p; ancestors . None had ever before suspected, that power, or the suf-
frage of the many, could in any manner become dear to him . He
had begun his speech with vehemence; he ended with unassuming
gentleness, making his appeal with the same humility, as if he had
asked to be the first in wealth, honour, and power among English-
men, and not, as was the truth, to be the foremost in the ranks of
loathsome toils and inevitable death . A murmur of approbation
rose after his speech . “Oh, do not listen to him,” I cried, “he speaks
false—false to himself,”—I was interrupted: and, silence being
restored, we were ordered, as was the custom, to retire during the
decision of the house . I fancied that they hesitated, and that there
was some hope for me—I was mistaken—hardly had we quitted the
chamber, before Adrian was recalled, and installed in his office of
Lord Deputy to the Protector .
We returned together to the palace . “Why, Lionel,” said Adrian,
“what did you intend? you could not hope to conquer, and yet you
gave me the pain of a triumph over my dearest friend .”
“This is mockery,” I replied, “you devote yourself,—you, the
adored brother of Idris, the being, of all the world contains, dearest
to our hearts—you devote yourself to an early death . I would have
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1060
prevented this; my death would be a small evil—or rather I should
not die; while you cannot hope to escape .”
“As to the likelihood of escaping,” said Adrian, “ten years hence
the cold stars may shine on the graves of all of us; but as to my
peculiar liability to infection, I could easily prove, both logically
and physically, that in the midst of contagion I have a better chance
of life than you .
“This is my post: I was born for this—to rule England in anar-
chy, to save her in danger—to devote myself for her . The blood of
my forefathers cries aloud in my veins, and bids me be first among
my countrymen . Or, if this mode of speech offend you, let me say,
that my mother, the proud queen, instilled early into me a love of
distinction, and all that, if the weakness of my physical nature and
my peculiar opinions had not prevented such a design, might have
made me long since struggle for the lost inheritance of my race .
But now my mother, or, if you will, my mother’s lessons, awaken
within me . I cannot lead on to battle; I cannot, through intrigue and
faithlessness rear again the throne upon the wreck of English public
spirit. But I can be the first to support and guard my country, now
that terrific disasters and ruin have laid strong hands upon her.
“That country and my beloved sister are all I have . I will protect
the first—the latter I commit to your charge. If I survive, and she be
lost, I were far better dead . Preserve her—for her own sake I know
that you will—if you require any other spur, think that, in preserving
her, you preserve me . Her faultless nature, one sum of perfections,
is wrapt up in her affections—if they were hurt, she would droop
like an unwatered floweret, and the slightest injury they receive is
a nipping frost to her . Already she fears for us . She fears for the
children she adores, and for you, the father of these, her lover, hus-
band, protector; and you must be near her to support and encourage
her . Return to Windsor then, my brother; for such you are by every
tie—fill the double place my absence imposes on you, and let me,
in all my sufferings here, turn my eyes towards that dear seclusion,
and say—There is peace .”
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1061
CHAPTER VII.
I did proceed to Windsor, but not with the intention of remaining
there . I went but to obtain the consent of Idris, and then to return and
take my station beside my unequalled friend; to share his labours,
and save him, if so it must be, at the expence of my life . Yet I dreaded
to witness the anguish which my resolve might excite in Idris . I had
vowed to my own heart never to shadow her countenance even with
transient grief, and should I prove recreant at the hour of greatest
need? I had begun my journey with anxious haste; now I desired to
draw it out through the course of days and months . I longed to avoid
the necessity of action; I strove to escape from thought—vainly—
futurity, like a dark image in a phantasmagoria, came nearer and
more near, till it clasped the whole earth in its shadow .
A slight circumstance induced me to alter my usual route, and
to return home by Egham and Bishopgate . I alighted at Perdita’s
ancient abode, her cottage; and, sending forward the carriage, de-
termined to walk across the park to the castle . This spot, dedicated
to sweetest recollections, the deserted house and neglected garden
were well adapted to nurse my melancholy . In our happiest days,
Perdita had adorned her cottage with every aid art might bring, to
that which nature had selected to favour . In the same spirit of ex-
aggeration she had, on the event of her separation from Raymond,
caused it to be entirely neglected . It was now in ruin: the deer had
climbed the broken palings, and reposed among the flowers; grass
grew on the threshold, and the swinging lattice creaking to the wind,
gave signal of utter desertion . The sky was blue above, and the air
impregnated with fragrance by the rare flowers that grew among
the weeds . The trees moved overhead, awakening nature’s favourite
melody—but the melancholy appearance of the choaked paths, and
weed-grown flower-beds, dimmed even this gay summer scene. The
time when in proud and happy security we assembled at this cottage,
was gone—soon the present hours would join those past, and shad-
ows of future ones rose dark and menacing from the womb of time,
their cradle and their bier. For the first time in my life I envied the
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1062
sleep of the dead, and thought with pleasure of one’s bed under the
sod, where grief and fear have no power . I passed through the gap of
the broken paling—I felt, while I disdained, the choaking tears—I
rushed into the depths of the forest . O death and change, rulers of
our life, where are ye, that I may grapple with you! What was there
in our tranquillity, that excited your envy—in our happiness, that ye
should destroy it? We were happy, loving, and beloved; the horn of
Amalthea contained no blessing unshowered upon us, but, alas!
la fortuna deidad barbara importuna, oy cadaver y ayer
flor, no permanece jamas!8
As I wandered on thus ruminating, a number of country people
passed me . They seemed full of careful thought, and a few words
of their conversation that reached me, induced me to approach and
make further enquiries. A party of people flying from London, as
was frequent in those days, had come up the Thames in a boat . No
one at Windsor would afford them shelter; so, going a little fur-
ther up, they remained all night in a deserted hut near Bolter’s lock .<
br />
They pursued their way the following morning, leaving one of
their company behind them, sick of the plague . This circumstance
once spread abroad, none dared approach within half a mile of the
infected neighbourhood, and the deserted wretch was left to fight
with disease and death in solitude, as he best might . I was urged by
compassion to hasten to the hut, for the purpose of ascertaining his
situation, and administering to his wants .
As I advanced I met knots of country-people talking earnestly
of this event: distant as they were from the apprehended contagion,
fear was impressed on every countenance . I passed by a group of
these terrorists, in a lane in the direct road to the hut . One of them
stopped me, and, conjecturing that I was ignorant of the circum-
stance, told me not to go on, for that an infected person lay but at a
short distance .
8
Calderon de la Barca .
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1063
“I know it,” I replied, “and I am going to see in what condition
the poor fellow is .”
A murmur of surprise and horror ran through the assembly . I
continued:—“This poor wretch is deserted, dying, succourless; in
these unhappy times, God knows how soon any or all of us may be
in like want . I am going to do, as I would be done by .”
“But you will never be able to return to the Castle—Lady Idris—
his children—” in confused speech were the words that struck my
ear .“Do you not know, my friends,” I said, “that the Earl himself,
now Lord Protector, visits daily, not only those probably infected by
this disease, but the hospitals and pest houses, going near, and even
touching the sick? yet he was never in better health . You labour un-
der an entire mistake as to the nature of the plague; but do not fear,
I do not ask any of you to accompany me, nor to believe me, until I
return safe and sound from my patient .”
So I left them, and hurried on . I soon arrived at the hut: the door
was ajar . I entered, and one glance assured me that its former inhab-
itant was no more—he lay on a heap of straw, cold and stiff; while
a pernicious effluvia filled the room, and various stains and marks
served to shew the virulence of the disorder .
I had never before beheld one killed by pestilence . While ev-