In the Spring we spent a week or two near Leghorn, borrowing the house of some friends who were absent on a journey to England.  It was on a beautiful summer evening, while wandering among the lanes whose myrtle-hedges were the bowers of the fire-flies, that we heard the carolling of the skylark which inspired one of the most beautiful of his poems.  He addressed the letter to Mrs. Gisborne from this house, which was hers:  he had made his study of the workshop of her son, who was an engineer.  Mrs. Gisborne had been a friend of my father in her younger days.  She was a lady of great accomplishments, and charming from her frank and affectionate nature.  She had the most intense love of knowledge, a delicate and trembling sensibility, and preserved freshness of mind after a life of considerable adversity.  As a favourite friend of my father, we had sought her with eagerness; and the most open and cordial friendship was established between us.

Our stay at the Baths of San Giuliano was shortened by an accident.  At the foot of our garden ran the canal that communicated between the Serchio and the Arno.  The Serchio overflowed its banks, and, breaking its bounds, this canal also overflowed; all this part of the country is below the level of its rivers, and the consequence was that it was speedily flooded.  The rising waters filled the Square of the Baths, in the lower part of which our house was situated.  The canal overflowed in the garden behind; the rising waters on either side at last burst open the doors, and, meeting in the house, rose to the height of six feet.  It was a picturesque sight at night to see the peasants driving the cattle from the plains below to the hills above the Baths.  A fire was kept up to guide them across the ford; and the forms of the men and the animals showed in dark relief against the red glare of the flame, which was reflected again in the waters that filled the Square.

We then removed to Pisa, and took up our abode there for the winter.  The extreme mildness of the climate suited Shelley, and his solitude was enlivened by an intercourse with several intimate friends.  Chance cast us strangely enough on this quiet half-unpeopled town; but its very peace suited Shelley.  Its river, the near mountains, and not distant sea, added to its attractions, and were the objects of many delightful excursions.  We feared the south of Italy, and a hotter climate, on account of our child; our former bereavement inspiring us with terror.  We seemed to take root here, and moved little afterwards; often, indeed, entertaining projects for visiting other parts of Italy, but still delaying.  But for our fears on account of our child, I believe we should have wandered over the world, both being passionately fond of travelling.  But human life, besides its great unalterable necessities, is ruled by a thousand lilliputian ties that shackle at the time, although it is difficult to account afterwards for their influence over our destiny.