The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1876-03-04 00:00:00

la well
npliancts
das, she

It was npt, however, in the domain. of art alone that he
Imperial Highness availed.herself of her exilted position t
be useful to her fellow-creatures. She founded several charl

table institutions, and always responded wittlitte greatest
willingness to the appeals of those who were engaged in
,Works of philanthropy and benevolence.
''"The Grand Duchess was remarkable for extreme aim/
,plicity in her intercourse with those with whom she was in
cobamunication. As a proof of her kindness may be men/
tioned the anxious desire she exnressed some days before
her death that the popular amusements should not be sus:
pended, for she foresaw that she was not likely to live tilt
the festive season was over; and, indeed, she died on the
iie.tond day of the Carnival. In compliance with her wish
there has been no interruption in the public amusements.'
The fair in the Champ de Al ars has been continued, and the
establishments of public entertainment which are in the
hands of private speculators remain. open.. The four Court
theatres, the op,ra, the Rtipsian, F, encl. and German.
Tneatres, which are under the administration cf the Minister
of the Imperial Household, are alone closed till after thei
teral."Lu.;
k A ?* THE :POET. KEATS.

mb,

-:ifite'ttirrespondent of The Times, writing from Romel
under date February 24, describes the unveiling of thel
medallion of Keats (of which has already been published al
brief telegraphic account) The following is an extract from'
the Correspondent's letter :

"On a balmy Spring morning in the month of Feb
ruary 1821, just 55 years ago, a group of persons was
gathered round an open grave in that old Protestant
cemetery soon afterwards closed. They were for the
most part young MP) mere youths. John Gibson,
tho .culptor, Williai Ewing and j Crimoell,l lso
sculvtors •' James eil.rk, afterwafds *biz, Jarmo r and
Joseph Severn, the painter—all have now passed
away, save one, and he is 82 yetrs old—and
they were looking for the last • time upon the
simple wooden coffin which hid fr an them all
that was mortal of John Keats. The grave was closed,
and a very short time afterwards the daisies had all
grown over it.' 'I was overcome with grief,' Severn
wrote at the time, 'for I had not expected his death.
I thought he would pave recovered and that washould
have lived long together, and I was worn out with
watching.' I can get no one to change with me, no
one to relieve me. All run away, but, if they did not,
Keats would not do without me." But,' he said to
me, this morning, there was one thing I could not
help noticing and can never forgelt—t)ae delicious smell
of the violets: it comforted me.'

"And delicious was the perfume of the wild violets
• yesterday afternoon, when a number of persons assem-
bled at the same spot, not in sorrow over the poet's
mortal remains, but rejoicing for his immortal fame—
to see a memorial medallion portrait of him uncovered,
and look at his simple tombstone and grave, which,
too long neglected, have .with loving care been repaired,
. enclosed in a stone border with a box hedge on each
side, and planted thick with violets. Until now, Sir
Vincent Eyre told those who were present yesterday,
the stone, weatherstained and somewhat broken, stood
merely in the earth at the head of a mound, trampled
out of shape by the feet of those who were obliged to
approach too close in order to read the inscription,
almost obliterated by time. He related that while
in Rome last winter he received a note from a young
lady, a near relation of Sir Bartle Frere, containing a
small sum of money, the joint contribution of herself
and a few friends, and a request that he would apply
it to putting the tomb of Keats into better condition.
A few evenings afterwards he was mentioning this to
some friends, when, by a curious coincidence, a lady
in another part of the same drawing-room was telling
how she had just received, from some of the poet's re-
lations in America, a sum of money for the same pur-
pose. The lady—Miss Sarah Clark, a distinguished
American artist—and Sir Vincent Eyre were thPia in-
troduced to each other, and, joining forces, determined
not only to put the grave into proper order, but, pro-
vided they couldobtain sufficient means, to avail them-
selves of a mask of the poet in the possession of Mr.
Severn, for the execution of a medallion portrait to be
erected at the same spot. Their efforts had been suc-
cessful. The medallion had been completed, they
were there to see it uncovered, the gravestone had been
raised up on a firm foundation and carefully repaired,
the inscription made perfectly legible, and the grave
enclosed and platted, 'While they were collecting
subscriptions for this work,lMr. Warrington Wood had
come forward and volunteered to sculpture the medal-
lion free of expense, excepting the cost of the marble
and erecting it in its place. As it is, the sculptor has
not only done this, but he now generously refuses to
receive reimbursement for his outlay. They have
therefore nearly £6O in hand, and this they now pro-
pose to make the nucleus for what might be sufficient
to pay for a marble bust, to be erected in Poet's Cor-
ner, Westminster Abbey. To this end Sir Vin-
cent Eyre asked those present to aid him in
raising the requisite subscriptions for the completion
of the bust, and expressed the conviction that there
would be no difficulty in obtaining permission to
place it in that little corner of the Abbey where it
had so just a claim to stand among the other portraits
of England's greatest poets. That day (Feb. 23) had
been chosen for uncovering the medallion under the
supposition that it was the anniversary of the poet's
death, but an error had inadvertently been made, for
he now 'saw upon the tombstone that Keats died on
the 24th. He regretted that the faithful. friend,
Joseph Severn, who had watched night and day by
the poet's bedside, who had supported him in his arms
as he breathed his last, and who had tenderly laid him
where they were standing, was unable to be with
them. Mr. Severn had written to him the afternoon
before • • . • _
.`"Dear fLiir Vincent —I am afraid Jam not strong enough
for the' excitement of to-morrow, and that I may break
down, and I beg you to reflect that I am in my 82nd year.
The incident of the porizait of Keats being uncovered
carriett me a little beyond myself, and alto the fact that .1
have lived to my great age to see at last Keat's fame estab-
lished, and loving pilgrims assembled at his tomb, but it Is
too much for me. Craving your indulgence, I remain, your
obliged servant, i"JosEPli SESERN."
There was no especial ceremony observed, and what
was done yesterday was the more impressive in conse-
quence. Of the number of persons present, many
Americans as well as English, I refrain from giving
any names, for, whatever . their rank or talent, they
were but, as Mr. Severn has expressed it; 'loving pil-
erims,'. conscious' that their presence -could add ,no
lustrelo the poet's memory. The medallion is placed
upon the pilaster of the small arched gateway spanning
the fosse which surrounds the old: cemetery. The
grave, it will be remembered, is_close to this gate, and
as the spectator stands before the tombstone he has
the newlY-eredted portrait . immediately on the left.
Itjsfsealiitured on a rectangular slab, and is sur-
rounded by a circular wreath, beneath which are in-
scribed the follewins, lines, forrning an acrostic on the
13°1496 !;,2143-1771; i 31,1 1:01J b.. "11* valid L.
"Keats filthy cherished name be writ %intim' •
"Each drop has fallen from some mourner's cheek; '.l
" A,sacred tribute, such as heroes seek,
"though oft in vain, for dazzling deeds of slaughter.
"Sleep on.! not honoured less, for epitaph so meek I"
"A•'0%7111 of art
arth,aB given his work in homage of
medallion does great credit
to
the poet's genfus, and Mr. Severn, who alone is able—
in Rome, at least—to judge of the likeness, pronounces
i 5 to be an excellent portrait. The Mask from which it
was made was taken from Keats face while living and
before his illness commenced, by his friend Haydon,
the painter. The body of Keats was one of the last
laid in the old cemetery, which is entirely separated
from the one now in use. At that time it was an open