Frankenstein Sundae (addendum)

Yes, I finished a rough (and I mean ROUGH) draft of this memoir a month ago (or so), but since then, I received in the mail a local history monograph--Boscombe Manor (2004), by Olive J. Samuel--a volume that relates the history of, well, Boscombe Manor, a mansion in Bournemouth (on the southern coast of England), the place long occupied by Percy Florence Shelley, the only surviving child of Bysshe and Mary. PFS's dates: 1819-1899. (The "Florence" part of his name, as I've noted before, celebrates the Italian city where he was born.)

Anyway, I was in Bournemouth on April 16, 1999, one stop on my month-long journey around Europe visiting the sites significant in Mary Shelley's life--and fiction. Mary is buried in Bournemouth (St. Peter's Churchyard)--along with the remains of her mother and father (Percy Florence moved those remains from St. Pancras back in London). Percy Florence and his wife, Jane, now also lie there in quite an impressive tomb. (I posted pix earlier.)

I have no idea why--when I was in Bournemouth--that I did not go get a look (and some photographs of) Boscombe Manor. Mary had stayed there--though she could not stay long. Her final illness, a brain tumor, was overwhelming her, and she soon returned to her place in London (Chester Square), where she died in 1851.

Boscombe Manor (from Flickr)

So ... I've been kicking myself since 1999.

I can't remember how I learned about this book--Boscombe Manor--but I ordered a used copy on ABE and as soon as it arrived, I discovered, to my delight, that it had once been part of the collection of the Bournemouth library!

I read it one afternoon last week and learned some things I've listed below:

• The Shelleys purchased the place in 1849.
• The original structure went up late in the 18th century (no specific date).
• It was originally "Boscombe Cottage," then "Boscombe Lodge" (1816), and "Boscombe Manor" in 1873--more than twenty years after Mary had died.
• Percy Florence greatly expanded the property--adding a private theater that still exists and still is a venue for stage productions. The Shelleys were avid theater fans--and often presented amateur productions there--sometimes things that he had written, including one comedy He Whoops to Conquer in 1856.
• They performed Wilkie Collins' The Lighthouse there in 1872.
• The Shelleys were avid sailors. On one of their voyages they returned to the site of his father's drowning in 1822 (off the coast of Viareggio, Italy) and to the site of his final (summer) home in Lerici.
• Some notable visitors/guests at Boscombe Manor; Leigh Hunt, Henry Irving, Edward J. Trelawny (who'd been with Bysshe that final summer of 1822), Tennyson, Ellen Terry.
• Robert Louis Stevenson lived in the area for a while--and became friends with Percy Florence--so much so that RLS dedicated his novel The Master of Ballantrae: A Winter's Tale (1889)  to the Shelleys. (Full text of dedication is below.)
• Percy Florence invested in a London theater--and the "drop," a curtain covering the stage before the plays began, featured the image of his father's final house in Lerici (which I did see and photograph!).
• Much of the acreage has been sold off and developed, but the house still stands.

Flickr has some great images and info, too. (Link to Flickr site.) The image below is from Flickr.

To Sir Percy Florence and Lady Shelley

Here is a tale which extends over many years and travels into many countries.  By a peculiar fitness of circumstance the writer began, continued it, and concluded it among distant and diverse scenes.  Above all, he was much upon the sea.  The character and fortune of the fraternal enemies, the hall and shrubbery of Durrisdeer, the problem of Mackellar’s homespun and how to shape it for superior flights; these were his company on deck in many star-reflecting harbours, ran often in his mind at sea to the tune of slatting canvas, and were dismissed (something of the suddenest) on the approach of squalls.  It is my hope that these surroundings of its manufacture may to some degree find favour for my story with seafarers and sea-lovers like yourselves.

And at least here is a dedication from a great way off: written by the loud shores of a subtropical island near upon ten thousand miles from Boscombe Chine and Manor: scenes which rise before me as I write, along with the faces and voices of my friends.

Well, I am for the sea once more; no doubt Sir Percy also.  Let us make the signal B. R. D.!

R. L. S.

Waikiki, May 17, 1889