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Page 55
I now made arrangements for my journey, but one feeling haunted me
which filled me with fear and agitation. During my absence I should
leave my friends unconscious of the existence of their enemy and
unprotected from his attacks, exasperated as he might be by my
departure. But he had promised to follow me wherever I might go, and
would he not accompany me to England? This imagination was dreadful in
itself, but soothing inasmuch as it supposed the safety of my friends.
I was agonized with the idea of the possibility that the reverse of
this might happen. But through the whole period during which I was the
slave of my creature I allowed myself to be governed by the impulses of
the moment; and my present sensations strongly intimated that the fiend
would follow me and exempt my family from the danger of his
machinations.
It was in the latter end of September that I again quitted my native
country. My journey had been my own suggestion, and Elizabeth
therefore acquiesced, but she was filled with disquiet at the idea of
my suffering, away from her, the inroads of misery and grief. It had
been her care which provided me a companion in Clerval--and yet a man
is blind to a thousand minute circumstances which call forth a woman's
sedulous attention. She longed to bid me hasten my return; a thousand
conflicting emotions rendered her mute as she bade me a tearful, silent
farewell.
I threw myself into the carriage that was to convey me away, hardly
knowing whither I was going, and careless of what was passing around.
I remembered only, and it was with a bitter anguish that I reflected on
it, to order that my chemical instruments should be packed to go with
me. Filled with dreary imaginations, I passed through many beautiful
and majestic scenes, but my eyes were fixed and unobserving. I could
only think of the bourne of my travels and the work which was to occupy
me whilst they endured.
After some days spent in listless indolence, during which I traversed
many leagues, I arrived at Strasbourg, where I waited two days for
Clerval. He came. Alas, how great was the contrast between us! He
was alive to every new scene, joyful when he saw the beauties of the
setting sun, and more happy when he beheld it rise and recommence a new
day. He pointed out to me the shifting colours of the landscape and
the appearances of the sky. "This is what it is to live," he cried;
"how I enjoy existence! But you, my dear Frankenstein, wherefore are
you desponding and sorrowful!" In truth, I was occupied by gloomy
thoughts and neither saw the descent of the evening star nor the golden
sunrise reflected in the Rhine. And you, my friend, would be far more
amused with the journal of Clerval, who observed the scenery with an
eye of feeling and delight, than in listening to my reflections. I, a
miserable wretch, haunted by a curse that shut up every avenue to
enjoyment.
We had agreed to descend the Rhine in a boat from Strasbourg to
Rotterdam, whence we might take shipping for London. During this
voyage we passed many willowy islands and saw several beautiful towns.
We stayed a day at Mannheim, and on the fifth from our departure from
Strasbourg, arrived at Mainz. The course of the Rhine below Mainz
becomes much more picturesque. The river descends rapidly and winds
between hills, not high, but steep, and of beautiful forms. We saw
many ruined castles standing on the edges of precipices, surrounded by
black woods, high and inaccessible. This part of the Rhine, indeed,
presents a singularly variegated landscape. In one spot you view
rugged hills, ruined castles overlooking tremendous precipices, with
the dark Rhine rushing beneath; and on the sudden turn of a promontory,
flourishing vineyards with green sloping banks and a meandering river
and populous towns occupy the scene.
We travelled at the time of the vintage and heard the song of the
labourers as we glided down the stream. Even I, depressed in mind, and
my spirits continually agitated by gloomy feelings, even I was
pleased. I lay at the bottom of the boat, and as I gazed on the
cloudless blue sky, I seemed to drink in a tranquillity to which I had
long been a stranger. And if these were my sensations, who can
describe those of Henry? He felt as if he had been transported to
fairy-land and enjoyed a happiness seldom tasted by man. "I have
seen," he said, "the most beautiful scenes of my own country; I have
visited the lakes of Lucerne and Uri, where the snowy mountains descend
almost perpendicularly to the water, casting black and impenetrable
shades, which would cause a gloomy and mournful appearance were it not
for the most verdant islands that believe the eye by their gay
appearance; I have seen this lake agitated by a tempest, when the wind
tore up whirlwinds of water and gave you an idea of what the
water-spout must be on the great ocean; and the waves dash with fury
the base of the mountain, where the priest and his mistress were
overwhelmed by an avalanche and where their dying voices are still said
to be heard amid the pauses of the nightly wind; I have seen the
mountains of La Valais, and the Pays de Vaud; but this country, Victor,
pleases me more than all those wonders. The mountains of Switzerland
are more majestic and strange, but there is a charm in the banks of
this divine river that I never before saw equalled. Look at that
castle which overhangs yon precipice; and that also on the island,
almost concealed amongst the foliage of those lovely trees; and now
that group of labourers coming from among their vines; and that village
half hid in the recess of the mountain. Oh, surely the spirit that
inhabits and guards this place has a soul more in harmony with man than
those who pile the glacier or retire to the inaccessible peaks of the
mountains of our own country." Clerval! Beloved friend! Even now it
delights me to record your words and to dwell on the praise of which
you are so eminently deserving. He was a being formed in the "very
poetry of nature." His wild and enthusiastic imagination was chastened
by the sensibility of his heart. His soul overflowed with ardent
affections, and his friendship was of that devoted and wondrous nature
that the world-minded teach us to look for only in the imagination. But
even human sympathies were not sufficient to satisfy his eager mind.
The scenery of external nature, which others regard only with
admiration, he loved with ardour:--
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