 On the morning of the third day I rode to Pisa. Byron had returned to the Lanfranchi Palace. I hoped to find a letter from the Villa Magni; there was none. I told my fears to Hunt, and then went upstairs to Byron. When I told him, his lip quivered, and his voice faltered as he questioned me. I sent a courier to Leghorn to despatch [sic] the 'Bolivar,' to cruise along the coast, whilst I mounted my horse and rode in the same direction. I also despatched [sic] a courier along the coast to go as far as Nice. On my arrival at Via Reggio, I heard that a punt, a water-keg, and some bottles had been found on the beach. These things I recognized as having been in Shelley's boat when he left Leghorn. Nothing more was found for seven or eight days, during which time of painful suspense, I patrolled the coast with the coast-guard stimulating them to keep a good look-out by the promise of a reward. It was not until many days after this that my worst fears were confirmed. Two bodies were found on the shore, -- one near Via Reggio, which I went and examined. The face and hands, and parts of the body not protected by the dress, were fleshless. The tall, slight figure, the jacket, the volume of Sophocles in one pocket, and Keats's poems in the other, doubled back, as if the reader, in the act of reading, had hastily thrust it away, were all too familiar to me to leave a doubt on my mind that this mutilated corpse was any other than Shelley's. The other body was washed on shore three miles distant from Shelley's, near the tower of Migliarino, at the Bocca Lericcio. I went there at once. This corpse was much more mutilated; it had no other covering than, -- the shreds of a shirt, and that partly drawn over the head, as if the wearer had been in the act of taking it off, -- a black silk handkerchief, tied sailor-fashion round the neck, -- socks, -- and one boot, indicating also that he had attempted to strip. The flesh, sinews, and muscles hung about in rags, like the shirt, exposing the ribs and bones. I had brought with me from Shelley's house a boot of Williams's, and this exactly matched the one the corpse had on. That, and the handkerchief, satisfied me that it was the body of Shelley's comrade. Williams was the only one of the three who could swim, and it is probable that he was the last survivor. It is likewise possible, as he had a watch and money, and was better dressed than the others, that his body might have been plundered when found. Shelley always declared that in case of wreck he would vanish instantly, and not imperil valuable lives by permitting others to aid in saving his, which he looked upon as valueless. It was not until three weeks after the wreck of the boat that a third body was found - four miles from the other two. This I concluded to be that of the sailor boy, Charles Vivian, although it was a mere skeleton, and impossible to be identified. It was buried in the sand, above the reach of the waves. I mounted my horse, and rode to the Gulf of Spezzia, put up my horse, and walked until I caught sight of the lone house on the sea-shore in which Shelley and Williams had dwelt, and where their widows still lived. Hitherto in my frequent visits - in the absence of direct evidence to the contrary, I had buoyed up their spirits by maintaining that it was not impossible but that the friends still lived; now I had to extinguish the last hope of these forlorn women. Recollections of the Last days of Shelley and Byron by E. J. Trelawny. Boston: Ticknor and Fields, 1858. 122-25. Related items:- The Percy Bysshe Shelley Page: links to online biography, poetry, prose, essays, correspondence, images and much more;
- Trelawny Burns Shelley's Body. Three white wands had been stuck in the sand to mark the Poet's grave,...
- Dan Roberts Raises Shelley's Boat. Trelawny receives letters from his friend, Captain Dan Roberts, describing the recovery of Shelley's boat and his theories about how it went down. He also makes an observation or two on Lord Byron.
- The John Keats Page: links to online biography, poetry, prose, essays, correspondence, images and much more;
- Keats Biography in Chamber's Cyclopedia (1863). His passions were always violent, and his sensibility most keen....
- The Last Letter of John Keats. My dear Brown – ‘Tis the most difficult thing in the world to me to write a letter....
Labels: Romantics
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