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THE CASTLE OF A GOTHIC STORY

and

THE MYSTERIOUS MOTHER A TRAGEDY

Horace Walpole

edited by Frederick S. Frank

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National Ubrary of Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Walpole:, Horace, 1717- 1797 The: castle: of Otranto a gothrc smry, and, The mysterious mo1her: a tt":lboedy I ; edited by Frederick S. Frank.

(Broadview literary 1exts) Includes brbliDb'T.IPhical references. ISBN 1-ss 111-304-x

I. Frank, Frederick S. II. Title. Ill. Series. IV Title: The mysterious mother. ra3757.w2c3 2002 8:18 ",009 c2002-905134-7

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Series editor: Professor L. W. Conolly Advisory editor for 1his volume: Colleen Franklin /~·~·····.., .. . Text dc:sib'TI and composition: Georg~ Kirkp3trick " - \ . .i ....,_;,. ..~ . PRINTED IN CANADA PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION

THE following work found in the library of an ancient Catholic family in the north of England. It was printed at , in the black letter, 1 in the year 1529. How much sooner it was written does not appear. The principal incidents are such as were believed in the darkest ages of Christianity; but the language and conduct have nothing that savors of that barbarism. The style is the purest Italian. If the story was written near the time when it is supposed to have happened, it must have been between 1095, the era of the first crusade, and 1243, the date of the last, or not long afterwards. There is no other circumstance in the work, that can lead us to guess at the period in which the scene is laid. The names of the actors2 are evidently fictitious, and probably dis­ guised on purpose: yet the Spanish names of the domestics seem to indicate that this work was not composed until the establish­ ment of the Arragonian kings in Naples3 had made Spanish appellations familiar in that country. The beauty of the diction, and the of the author (moderated, however, by singular judgement), concur to make me think, that the date of the com­ position was little antecedent to that of the impression. Letters were then in their most flourishing state in , and contributed to dispel the empire of superstition, at that time so forcibly attacked by the reformers. It is not unlikely, that an artful priest might endeavour to turn their own arms on the innovators; and might avail himself of his abilities as an author to confirm the populace in their ancient errors and superstitions. If this was his view, he has certainly acted with signal address. Such a work as the following would enslave a hundred vulgar minds, beyond half the books of controversy that have been written from the days of Luther" to the present hour.

I A Gothic typeface, e.g. ~~r ~uifr nttmtr. 2 Several of the characters' names an: taken from Shakespc3n:. Dianca is uken from 0111· tllo; lsabdb i~ ukc:n from Mtasurr for Afou11rc. Hippoliu is ukcn from A Midsummer N(~/11~ Drca1t1 . Manfred Jnd Conr.id wen: ukcn front historical accounu of the lulian kinb.Jom ofSicily in the: period 1200-1300. 3 These kings assumed the: rule of the: Neapolitan kingdom after the defeat and death of King Manfred in 1266. 4 Martin Luther (1483-1546), German Proicsunt n:ligious reformer.

THE CASTLE Of OTRANTO 59 This solution of the author's motives is, however, offered as a thor's defects. I could wish he had grounded his plan on a more mere conjecture. Whatever his views were, or whatever effects au ful moral than this: that" tl1e sins ef fathers arc visited 011 tl1eir clril- use 1 h h · h' the execution of them might have, his work can only be laid to t/ic tlrird a11d fourth ge11cratio11. " I doubt w et er, m is dret 1 bd' . f before the public at present as a matter of entertainment. Even as time any more than at present, ambition cur e its appetite o such, some for it is necessary. Miracles, visions, necro­ dominion from the dread of so remote a punishment. And yet mancy, dreams, and other preternatural events, are exploded now this moral is weakened by that less direct_ insinuati.on, t~at eve~ even from romances. That was not the case when our author such anathema may be diverted, by devotion to samt N1ch.olas. wrote; much less when the story itself is supposed to have hap­ Here, the interest of the monk plainly gets the better of the judg­ pened. Belief in every kind of prodigy was so established in those ment of the author. However, with all its faults, I have no doubt dark ages, that an author would not be faithful to the manners of but the English reader will be pleased with a sight of this pe~or­ the time who should omit all mention of them. He is not bound mance. The piety that reigns throughout, the lessons of virtue to believe them himself, but he must represent his actors as that are inculcated, and the rigid purity of the sentiments, exempt believing them. this work from the censure to which romances are but too liable. If this air of the miraculous is excused, the reader will find Should it meet with the success I hope for, I may be encoura~ed nothing else unworthy of his perusal. Allow the possibility of the to reprint the original Italian, though it will tend to depreciate facts, and all the actors comport themselves as persons would do my own labour. Our language falls far short of the ~har~ of the in their situation. There is no bombast, no similes, flowers, digres­ Italian, both for variety and harmony. The latter is. particularly i ( sions, or unnecessary description~""Everything tends dlrectly to excellent for simple narrative. It is difficult, in English, to relate tne catastrophe. Never is the reader's attention relaxed. The rules without falling too low, or rising too high; a fault obviously occa­ of the drama 1 are almost observed throughout the conduct of the sioned by the little care taken to speak pure language in co~mon piece. The characters are well drawn, and still better maintained. conversation. Every Italian or Frenchman, of any rank, piques Terror, the author's principal engine, prevents the story from ever himself on speaking his own tongue correctly and with choice._ I languishing; and it is so often contrasted by pity, that the mind is cannot flatter myself with having done justice to my author m kept up in a constant vicissitude of interesting passions. this respect: his style is as elegant, as his conduct of the passions is Some persons may, perhaps, think the characters of the domes­ masterly. It is a pity that he did not apply his talents to what they tics too little serious for the general cast of the story; but, besides were evidently proper for, the theatre. their opposition to the principal personages, the art of the author I will detain the reader no longer, but to make one short is very observable in his conduct of the subalterns. They discover remark. Though the machinery is invention, and the names of the many passages essential to the story, which could not be well actors imaginary, I cannot but believe, that the ground wo~k ?f brought to light but by their 11ai'vcte and simplicity: in particular, the story is founded on truth. The scene is undoubtedly laid m the womanish terror and foibles of Bianca, in the last chapter, some real castle.l The author seems frequently, without design, to conduce essentially towards advancing the catastrophe. describe particular parts. "171c clramber:• says he, "011 tire riglrt lra11d; It is natural for a translator to be prejudiced in favour of his tire door 011 tire left lra11d; tl1e distaucc from tile clrapel to Conrad~ apart- adopted work. More impartial readers may not be so much struck

with the beauties of this piece as I was. Yet I am not blind to my 1 A par.iphr.ise of Exodus 34' 6-7. 2 lmporunt fourth-century saint whose shrine is at Bari near Otr.into. The architcctur.tl mode:! for the castle w.ts Walpole's "little: Gothic" villa at Smwbc:r?' 3 I Rcfc:n to the: 1hn:c: unmcs assib'T!c:d by Armode m 71Je Poc11cs to the dr.m1a, umty of Htll. Also, his memories of Trimty College at Cambridge: Umvc:nity played an imagi- time; unity of place:; and unity of acuon. native role,

60 HORACE WALl'OLI: 61 mc11t." These and other passages, are strong presumptions that the author had some certain building in his eye. Curious persons, who have leisure to employ in such researches, may possibly dis­ CASTLE 0TRANTO cover in the Italian writers the foundation on which our author of has built. If a catastrophe, at all resembling that which he describes, is believed to have given rise to this work, it will con­ A tribute to interest the reader, and will make 171c Castle of Otramo a still more moving story. 1 Horace Walpole, 1764 GOTHIC STORY

---Yante Fi11zm111r fpuits, tamtn ul Pts, & Capul uni Redda11JHT farmie. --- HOR.

THE SECOND EDITION.

L 0 ND 0 N: Printed for W r LL I A M BA T ff o E in the Strtmtl, and THOMAS Lowrrns in Flt:t-Strttl, M.DCC.LXV.

I In the first ediuon, Walpole subtitled the "A S~ory".The second cd:o~:!~:~ h nl "Gothic" to the subtitle and included a Laun ep1gr:iph tikcn fio ~= ;':,ica 7-9:"ldle fancies shall be shaped like a sick man's drram so that neither foo~ ' b ...1

62 HORACE WALPOLE PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION

THE favourable manner in which this little piece has been received by the public, calls upon the author to explain the grounds on which he composed it. But, before he opens those motives, it is fit that he should ask pardon of his readers for having offered his work to them under the borrowed personage of a cranslator. As diffidence of his own abilities, and the novelty of the attempt, were the sole inducements to assume the disguise, he flatters himself he shall appear excusable. He resigned the perfor­ mance to the impartial judgement of the public; determined to let it perish in obscurity, if disproved; nor meaning to avow such a mfie, unless better judges should pronounce that he might own it without blush. It was an attempt to blend the two kinds of romance, the ancient and the modern. 1 In the former, all was imagination and improbability: in the latter, nature is always intended to be, and ~ sometimes has been, copied with success. Invention has not been ~ wanting; but the great resources of fancy have been dammed up, by a strict adherence to common life. But if, in the latter species, Nature has cramped imagination, she did but take her revenge, having been totally excluded from old romances. The actions, sentiments, and conversations, of the heroes and heroines of ancient days, were as unnatural as the machines employed to put them in motion. The author of the following pages thought it possible to rec­ oncile the two kinds. Desirous of leaving the powers of fancy at liberty to expatiate through the boundless realms of invention, and thence of creating more interesting situations, he wished to conduct the mortal agents in his drama2 according to the rules of probability; in short, to make them think, speak, and act, as it might be supposed mere men and women would do in extraordi­ nary positions. He had observed, that, in all inspired writings, the

I The narrative will amalg;imate the marvellous with the probable and the natural with the supernatural. ! Walpole conceives of the novel in dramatic terms complete: with suge directions, props, and asides. This applies to the supernatural as well as the natural characten. Otranto was adapted for the St:lb'C by R obert Jephson in 11tt Co11111 of Narbonnr (1786).

THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO 65 the fooleries of Polonius [in Shakespeare's ], and the personages under the dispensation of miracles, and witness to the gers, . d . most stupendous phenomena, never lose sight of their human clumsy jests of the Roman citizens, were onutte , or vested m character: whereas, in the productions of romantic story, an heroics? Is not the eloquence of A.ntony, the nobl.er an.d affected­ improbable event never fails to be attended by an absurd dialogue. ly-unaffected oration of Brutus [m Shakespeare s ]11l111s Caesar], The actors seem to lose their senses, the moment the laws of artificially exalted by the rude bursts of nature from th~ mouths nature have lost their tone. As the public have applauded the f their auditors? These touches remind one of the Grecian sculp- 0 who to convey the idea of a Colossus, within the dimensions attempt, the author must not say he was entirely unequal to the tor, , of a seal, inserted a little boy measuring his thumb. task he had undertaken: yet, if the new route he has struck out 1 shall have paved a road for men of brighter talents, he shall own, "No," says Voltaire, in his edition of Corneille, • "t~is mix~re of with pleasure and modesty, that he was sensible the plan was capa­ buffoonery and solemnity is intolerable." -Voltaire is ~ gemus-. - ble of receiving greater embellishments than his imagination, or but not of Shakespeare's magnitude. Without recurring to dis­ conduct of the passions, could bestow on it. putable authority, I appeal fro~ Voltaire to h~mself. I s~all not With regard to the deportment of the domestics, on which I avail myself of his former enconuums on our nughty p~et, though have touched in the former preface, I will beg leave to add a few the French critic has twice translated the same speech m Hamlet, some years ago in admiration, latterly in derisi~n; and I am sorry wo~ds. -:he si~1plicity of their behaviour, almost tending to exctte smiles, which, at first, seems not consonant to the serious to find that his judgment grows weaker when it ought t.o be far­ cast of the work, appeared to me not only improper, but was ther matured. But I shall make use of his own words, dehvered on marked designedly in that manner. My rule was nature. However the general topic of the theatre, when he was neither thinking to grave, important, or even melancholy, the sensations of the princes recommend or decry Shakespeare's practice; consequently, at a and heroes may be, they do not stamp the same affections on their moment when Voltaire was impartial. In the preface to his E1ifa11t domestics: at least the latter do not, or should not be made to prodiguc,2 that exquisite piece, of which 1 declare my admiration, and which, should l live twenty years longer, I trust 1 shall never ex~r~ss their passions in the same dignified tone. In my humble opimon, the contrast between the sublime of the one and the attempt to ridicule, he has these words •. speaking o~ comedy [but ''.arvetc of the other, sets the pathetic of the former in a stronger equally applicable to tragedy, if tragedy i~, as surely it o.ught to be, light. The very impatience which a reader feels, while delayed, by a picture of human life; nor can I conceive why oc~as10nal pleas­ antry ought more to be banished from the tragic scene than the coarse pleasantries of vulgar actors, from arriving at the pathetic seriousness from the comic}, "011 y voit 1111 111Cla11gc de kn~wledge of .the important catastrophe he expects, perhaps heightens, certainly proves that he has been artfully interested in, serie11X et de pfaisa11terie, de co111iq11c Ct de to11clia11t; SOllVellt lll~lllC llllC scule ave t re produit tous ces coutrastes. Rie11 11'est si co1111111mq11'1111e the depending event. But I had higher authority than my own 11 11 opinion for this conduct. The great master of nature, maison daus laq11ellc 1111 pcrc gro11dc, 1111e fillc ocwpcc de sa ~a~sio11 Shakespeare, 1 was the model I copied. Let me ask, if his tragedies plcrrre; le fils sc 111oq11e des dcux, et q11clq11es parents pre1111e11t df.ffer~111.- of Hamlet and Julius C:rsar would not lose a considerable share of 111e11t part a la scene &c. Nous 11 'i1ifero11s pas de la quc toute co111ed1e their spirit and wonderful beauties, if the humour of the gravedig- The: French philosopher of the Enlightenment, Voluire (1694~t778) . reg:irded Shake· 1 speare as a rough and primi1ive genius who lacked the dr.tmauc purity of the French

I Shakc.~pcan: included the supern3rura) 3S an aspect of nature:. Along with Hamltt.julius mgcd1an, Pierre Corneille (16o6-1684). . . , Voluin:"s comedy, L'Enfant prod(~uc (TI1e Prod(~al Son, 173~) v1olatcd. Volta1n:s own Caesar, M

THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO 67 66 HORACE WALPOLE doive avoir des sce11es de bo11.ffo1111erie et des sce11es atte11drissa11tes: ii y a Atfic11es; mais Paris ct 11otre parterre ve11le11t 1111e a11tre espece de simplic­ bem1to11p de Ires bo1111es pieces Olt if lie reg11e ']lie de la gaiete; d'autres itc. " 1 l doubt, I say, whether there is not a grain of sneer in this to11tes serie11ses; d' a11tres 111e!a11gees: d' a11tres 011 /'attendrisse111e11t va and other passages of that epistle; yet the force of truth is not j11sq11es aux ~armes: if /IC ja11t do1111er l'exc111sio11 aQllCllll ge11re; et si Oil damaged by being tinged with ridicule. Maffei was to represent a Ill~ demat'.~o:~: quel ge'.ire est le 111eille11r, je repo11drois, celui qui est le Grecian story: surely the Athenians were as competent judges of 1111e11x traite. Surely 1f com~dy may be to11te serieuse, tragedy may Grecian manners, and of the propriety of introducing them, as the now and then, soberly, be indulged in a smile. Who shall pro­ parterre of Paris. "On the contrary," says Voltaire (and I cannot s~ribe it? Shall the critic, who, in self-defence, declares, that no but admire his reasoning), "there were but ten thousand citizens at kind ought to be excluded from comedy, give laws to Shake­ and Paris has near eight hundred thousand inhabitants, speare? among whom one may reckon thirty thousand judges of dramatic I am aware that the preface from whence I have quoted these works."-indeed!-but allowing so numerous a tribunal, I passages does not stand in Monsieur de Voltaire's name but in that believe this is the only instance in which it was ever pretended of his editor; yet who doubts that the editor and the a'uthor were that thirty thousand persons, living near two thousand years after 2 the sam~ person? ?r where is the editor, who has so happily pos­ the era in question, were, upon the mere face of the poll, declared sessed himself of his author's style, and brilliant ease of argument? better judges than the Grecians themselves, of what ought to be These passages were indubitably the genuine sentiments of that the manners of a tragedy written on a Grecian story. gre~t writer. ln his epistle to Maffei,3 prefixed to his Merope, he l will not enter into a discussion of the cspece de simplicite, delivers almost the same opinion, though, l doubt, with a little which the parterre of Paris demands, nor of the shackles with irony. I will repeat ~is words, and then give my reason for quoting which the thirty thousand judges have cramped their poetry, the them: After ~~nslating a .passage in Maffei's Merope, Monsieur de chief merit of which, as I gather from repeated passages in The Voltaire adds, Tous ces traits so11t 11aifS; tout y est co11vc11ab/e aCCllX tJllC New Commentary on Corneille, consists in vaulting in spite of VOllS illtroduisez sur la scene, el a11x 111oe11rs q11e VOllS le11r do1111ez. Ces those fetters; a merit which, if true, would reduce poetry from the familiarites 11at11relles e11ssent he, a ce q11e je crois, bie11 rep1es dans lofty effort of imagination, to a puerile and most contemptible labour-difficilcs 1111gre 2 with witness! I cannot, however, help mentioning a couplet, which, to my English ears, always sounded I Quoting Voluirc, Walpole explains how a joining of the comic and the serious C3n enhance the artistic success of the whole work as demonstr:ited by V. )•· · • d · as the flattest and most trifling instance of circumstantial propri­ h' h· ( . . o ... m:s conic y tn w IC. • Tr:inslat1on. This "'.ork reveals a miit of seriousness and humor, comedy and ety, but which Voltaire, who has dealt so severely with nine parts emotion, these contr:ms being often produced by a single: event. Norhing is com­ 35 in ten of Corneille's works, has singled out to defend in Racine;) mon as " house in which a father scolds. a

or ~ouchmg scenes· many very b'Ood plays display nothing but cheerfulness; others ;ire 1 The "sort of simplicity" on sugc that the: Parisian audience n:quin:s. Liter:illy,part

68 HORACE WALPOLE THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO 69 De son appartemcnt ccttc portc est procl1aillc, SONNET' Et ccttc a11tre co11d11it da11s cclui de la Rci11e. To the Right Honourable In English, LADY MARY COKE

To C:rsar's closet tliro11gli this door yo11 come. The gentle maid, whose hapless tale A11d t'other leads to the Q11ee11~ dra111i11g-roo111. These melancholy pages speak; Say, gracious lady, shall she fail Unhappy Shakespeare! hadst thou made Rosencrantz inform his To draw the tear adown thy cheek? compeer, Guildenstern, of the ichonography' of the palace of Copenhagen, i~stead of presenting us with a moral dialogue No; never was thy pitying breast between the Pnnce of Denmark and the grave-digger,2 the illu­ Insensible to human woes; minated pit of Paris would have been instructed a seco11d time to Tender, though firm, it melts distrest adore thy talents. For weaknesses it never knows. The result of all I have said, is, to shelter my own daring under the canon ?f the brightest genius this country, at least, has pro­ Oh! Guard the marvels I relate duced. I nught have pleaded that, having created a new species of Of fell ambition scourg'd by fate, romance, I was ~t liberty to lay down what rules I thought fit for From reason's peevish blame: the conduc~ of 1t: but I should be more proud of having intitated, Blest with thy smile, thy dauntless sail however fa_mtly, weakly, and at a distance, so masterly a pattern, I dare expand to fancy's gale, than to enjoy the entire merit of invention, unless I could have For sure thy smiles are fame. ~l~rked my ~ork with genius, as well as with originality. Such as H.W. 1t is, the pubhc have honoured it sufficiently, whatever rank their suffrages allot to it.

1 The dedicatory sonnet was added to the second edition of Otmnto. Lady Mary (Camp­ 1 Floor pbn or 5Cale drawing of a building's ground plan. bell( Coke (17:?6-1811), daughter of the Duke of Afb'Yll, was an eccentric 3nd ultr:m:n­

.l R~fcrs to the 5Cc:nc in Shakcspcan:'s Hdmltt. v.i. in which Hamlet plays 3 b'3me of wits timcntil friend and corn:spondcnt of Walpole:. The: sonnet's bantering tone b-cnlly with the: gravedigger. mocks h~r extreme: sc:mibtlity.

70 HORACE WALPOLE THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO 71 CHAPTER ONE

MANrRED, Prince of Otranto, had one son and one daughter; the latter a most beautiful virgin, aged eighteen, was called Matilda. Conrad, the son, was three years younger, a homely youth, sickly, and of no promising disposition; yet he was the darling of his father, who never showed any symptoms of affection to Matilda. Manfred had contracted a marriage for his son with the Marquis of Vicenza's daughter, Isabella; and she had already been delivered by her guardians into the hands of Manfred, that he might cele­ brate the wedding as soon as Conrad's infirm state of health would permit. Manfred's impatience for this ceremonial was remarked by his family and neighbours. The former, indeed, apprehending the severity of their prince's disposition, did not dare to utter their surmises on this precipitation. H1ppolita, his wife, an lady, did sometimes venture to represent the dan­ ger of marrying their only son so early, considering his great youth, and greater infirmities; but she never received any other answer than reflections on her own sterility, 1 who had given him but one heir. His tenants and subjects were less cautious in their discourses: they attributed this hasty wedding to the prince's dread The death of Conrad beneath the helmet h of seeing accomplished an ancient prophecy, which was said to , c apter one have pronounced, 171at tlie Castle a11d Lordsl1ip Otra11to s/1011/d 171e Cnstle of Otrauto ' of pass from the present family, 111/1c11evcr tl1e real owner s/1011/d be gro11111 too large to i11habit it. It was difficult to make any sense of this pro­ phecy; and still less easy to conceive what it had to do with the marriage in question. Yet these mysteries, or contradictions, did not make the populace adhere the less to their opinion. Young Conrad's birth-day was fixed for his espousals. The company was assembled in the chapel of the castle, and everything ready for beginning the divine office, when Conrad himself was missing. Manfred, impatient of the least delay, and who had not observed his son retire, dispatched one of his attendants to sum­ mon the young prince. The servant, who had not staid long enough to have crossed the court to Conrad's apartment, came

1 The scxu:il ambi&'Uity is obvious since it op~ns the possibility of Manfred's impotency ;is the cause.

T HE CASTLE OF OTRANTO 73 3. The Little Gothic Villa at Strawberry Hill

In 1747, Walpole purchased a small house on the upper Thames abov Richmond near the village of Twickenham. The house was calle~ "Strawberry Hill" and was an absolutely ordinary and featureless rectan­ gle, described by Walpole's biographer, R.W. Ketton-Cremer, as "a shapeless unsymmetrical building without any architectural interest."' By 1763, the year before the publication of 17ie Castle ef Otrallto, Walpole had transformed this prosaic and nondescript building {"the shapeless lit­ ~e box") into "a little Gothic castle ... built to please my own taste, and m some degree to realize my own visions."2 With the assistance of his skilled friends,John Chute, Richard Bentley, and Thomas Pitt, and guid­ ed. b~ his own antiquarian capriciousness, Walpole achieved a fantasy building whose sole function was to gratify the imagination of a medieval dilettante, "a monument to a mood" and "an admirable aid to self-dramatization."3 On the exterior, he added a long gallery with a cloister beneath it, several towers of disparate proportions, the large round tower and the slender Beauclerc tower, to create a wild irregulari­ Strawberry Hill, Round Tower and skyline, 1997. ty of skyline to disturb and delight the approaching visitor; canvas battle­ Photograph by F. S. Frank ments with machicolations designed to give a glowering and beetling effect; and grounds, gardens, and gates intended to impart an ·atmosphere of barbaric enclosure and Gothic "gloomth." In perpendicular or high The interior of Strawberry Hill was redecorated with the same asym­ Gothic, the pointed arch and flying buttress had had necessary structural metrical, or Sharawaggi spirit in mind, and contained several Gothic functions, but Walpole favored an ornamental ideal of the Gothic meant chambers and weird relics, which would later assume a life of their own to please and excite the passion for "gloomth" and to stir the imagination in the novel. The compartments of Strawberry Hill, like the novel, fea­ of heads like his own that were "filled with Gothic story." The sole guid­ tured a "nightmare juxtaposition of unrelated objects." 1 An armoury, a ing principle, aside from the criterion of self-indulgence, in the Gothic Gothic staircase, medieval chapel and oratory, dim passageways, vaulted refabrication of Strawberry Hill seemed to be exuberant irregularity or ceilings, and imposing cabinets and bookcases lining the m_ulti-co~o.red "Sharawaggi" as it was called in Walpole's day by designers whose delib­ rooms had sufficient supernatural decor to cause one astonished vmtor erate aim was asymmetry, disproportion, and disharmony of parts. to exclaim of Walpole's folly, "Lord God! Jesus! what a house!," precise~y the response that Walpole was after. Special spaces such as the Holbem Chamber and the closet containing Lady Diana Beauclercc's drawings I R.W. Ketton-Cremer, H.•mce Jlisll"'le: A Bi~mpl1y. Ithaca, NY: Cornell U!~ 1964, l 4. for 771e Mysterious Motlier were reserved for special occasions a~d gues~. Chapter VIII, "The Fint Decade at S1r.1wberry Hill (1747-57)," contains detailed Because he had used so much artificial stone 2 in the construct10n of his accounts of the interior and exterior Gothification of the plain country house. for other excellent descriptions of the construction and content of the little Gothic villa, Gothic mockup, Walpole's whimsical Gothic edifice of cardboard, see: Wilmarth S. Lewis, 11tt Genesis of Sttawl•erry Hill, New York: Metropolitan Muse­ plaster, and lath inspired many quips in fashionable circles. "Horrie;' the um Srudics, 1934; Sir Kenneth Clark, "Ruins and Rococo: S1r.1wberry Hill;' in l71t Got/Jic Reviml: Atr Essay in tltt History of TtJStr. Harmondsworth, Middlesex, UK: Pen­ guin, 196:?, 34-jl; and Walpole's own inwntory, Descrip1io11 of Stmwberry Hill in the 1 Ketton-Cremer, Walpole: A Biogmp/1y, 175. Jl{Jrkr. l Called "lithodipr.i" in the eighteenth century, this sham stone was manufactured and :? Hor.ice Walpole, Dt!scrip1io11 ef Stmwbrrry Hill, U{>rks II, 398. marketed in a variety of shapes for the rapid construction of artificial ruins and prefab­ Sir Kennctl1 Clark, "Ruins and Rococo; Strawberry Hill;' 37, 45. ricated medieval dilapidation.

280 APPENDIX A THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO & THE MYSTERIOUS MOTHER 281 Strawberry Hill, South Front. Strawberry Hill, East Front.

joke went round, had already outlived four sets of battlements. It might be said that the first Gothic novel was being written long before Walpole set his nightmare to paper, for as Strawberry Hill evolved, the literary fantasy grew directly out of the architectural fact. But despite the obvi­ ous synergy between the house's picturesque gloom and the first Gothic novel's places and equipment of terror, modern scholarship has been oddly reluctant to follow up on Ketton-Cremer's comment about the close relationship between the castle that Walpole built and the novel that he wrote. "In hours of reverie, in solitary musings late at night, and especially in dreams," wrote Ketton-Cremer, "the flimsy materials which surrounded him-the fretted wood, the moulded plaster, the painted wallpaper-assumed the solidity of ponderous stone: and his narrow pas­ sage-ways and snug chambers began to swell into the echoing vaults and sombre galleries of Otranto.... His fantasies found concrete form; the lit­ tle house called Strawberry Hill was fast assuming the splendours of the Castle of Otranto. " 1 The enormous hand in armor, the "long labyrinth of darkness" through which Isabella scurries, and even the peregrinating Strawberry Hill, North Front, 1784. painting of Ricardo, Manfred's usurping ancestor, were all part of the daily scene of Strawberry Hill and readily available to Walpole's imagina­ tion when he came to write 771e Castle of Otra11to.

1 Kenon-Cn:mer, Hcmrr IHtlpolt: A Bi0;!!mpl1y, 163

282 APPENDIX A THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO & THE MYSTERIOUS MOTHER 283 Strawberry Hill, the Prior's Garden and North Front. Strawberry Hill, staircase and bannister.

284 APPENDIX A THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO &: THE MYSTERIOUS MOTHER 285 Strawberry Hill, gallery.

Strawberry Hill, the Chapel or Tribune.

286 APPENDIX A THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO & THE MYSTERIOUS MOTHER 287