and get his advice about publishing it. Although Medwin heard about
the story when he was with the Shelleys in 1820[vii] and Mary read
it--perhaps from the rough draft--to Edward and Jane Williams in the
summer of 1821,[viii] this manuscript apparently stayed in Godwin's
hands. He evidently did not share the Gisbornes' enthusiasm: his
approval was qualified. He thought highly of certain parts of it, less
highly of others; and he regarded the subject as "disgusting and
detestable," saying that the story would need a preface to prevent
readers "from being tormented by the apprehension ... of the fall of
the heroine,"--that is, if it was ever published.[ix] There is,
however, no record of his having made any attempt to get it into
print. From January 18 through June 2, 1822, Mary repeatedly asked
Mrs. Gisborne to retrieve the manuscript and have it copied for her,
and Mrs. Gisborne invariably reported her failure to do so. The last
references to the story are after Shelley's death in an unpublished
journal entry and two of Mary's letters. In her journal for October
27, 1822, she told of the solace for her misery she had once found in
writing _Mathilda_. In one letter to Mrs. Gisborne she compared the
journey of herself and Jane to Pisa and Leghorn to get news of Shelley
and Williams to that of Mathilda in search of her father,
"driving--(like Matilda), towards the _sea_ to learn if we were to be
for ever doomed to misery."[x] And on May 6, 1823, she wrote, "Matilda
foretells even many small circumstances most truly--and the whole of
it is a monument of what now is."[xi]

These facts not only date the manuscript but also show Mary's feeling
of personal involvement in the story. In the events of 1818-1819 it is
possible to find the basis for this morbid tale and consequently to
assess its biographical significance.