Letter from Harriet Shelley to Eliza Westbrook. Shelley and her parents.
London, December 1816. To you, my dear sister.
I leave all my things and they more properly belong to you than anyone.
And you will preserve them for I don't see. God bless you both, my dearest and much beloved sister.
Saturday evening. When you read this letter, I shall be no more an inhabitant of this miserable world.
Do you not regret the loss of one who could never be anything but a source of vexation and misery to you,
or longing to me, too wretched to accept myself, lowered in the opinion of everyone.
Why should I drag on a miserable existence, embittered by past recollections and not one ray of hope to rest on for the future?
The remembrance of all your kindness, which I have so unwisely repaid, has often made my heart ache.
I know that you will forgive me because it is not in your nature to be unkind or severe to any dear,
amiable woman that I had never left you over, that I had always taken your advice.
I might have lived long and happy, but weak and unsteady have rushed on my own destruction.
I have not written to Bush. Oh, no.
What would it avail? My wishes or my prayers would not be attended to by him.
And yet I should see this. Perhaps he might grant my last request to let Anthony remain with you.
Always, dear, lovely child. With you. She will enjoy much happiness with him.
None. My dear Bish, let me conjure you by the remembrance of our days of happiness to grant my last wish.
Do not take your innocent child from Eliza, who has been more than I have and who has watched over her with such unceasing care.
Do not refuse my last request. I never could refuse you.
And if you had never left me, I might have lived. But as it is, I freely forgive you.
I may you enjoy that happiness which you have deprived me of. There is your beautiful boy.
Oh, be careful of him. And his life may prove one day a rich reward as you form his infant mind.
So you will reap the fruits hereafter. Now comes the sad task of saying farewell.
Oh, I must be quick. God bless and watch over you.
You, dear Bish. And you, dear Eliza. May all happiness attend you both.
It is the last wish of her who loved me more than all others. My children.
I dare not trust myself that they are too young to regret me.
And you will be kind to them for their own sakes, more than for mine. My parents do not regret me.
I was unworthy of your love and care. Be happy.
All of you. So shall my spirit find rest and forgiveness.
God bless you all. Is the last prayer of the unfortunate Harriet.
Ask.