Wichita eagle., 1890-03-04
A VERY GRAVE SUBJECT.
BEING A DESCRIPTION OF THE
GRAVES OF CELEBRATED PEOPLE.
The Charuel House at Westminster Abbey.
The Pit in Which Byron Is Buried-The
Last Resting Place of Scott, Burns and
Wordsworth.

The Pit in Which Byron Is Buried-The
Last Resting Place of Scott, Burns and
Wordsworth.
And SO they have buried Browning in
Westminster Abbey. And this, too, when
it was his earnest and often expressed desire
to be laid beside his dearly loved wife in the
Protestant cemetery at Florence; that lovely
spot have visited SO many times, and never
without envying those who, latter life's fitful
fever" have such a bed for the last long
| sleep.
But no, it must be in Westminster Abbey;
because, being famous poet lat least tempo
rarily), he must have grave among other
famous folk-though the most famous poets
are not there. Shakespeare is at Stratford.
Milton in St. Giles, Cripplegate; Pope at
Twickenham, Byron in acknowledgement,
Shelley and Keats in Rome, Wordsworth at
| Grasmere and Burns at Dumfries. But the
company IS good enough, though there is
some truth in what old Handel said: They
do burr fools there"-at least as many fools
as wise men.
OBJECTION TO WESTMINSTER.
But my objection is that Westminster, de-
spite its glory, is a horrible charnel house, as
|
| Of sepulture. In Dean Seanley's most inter
esting bool, upon the sanctuary and mauso-
| leum, of which he was the greatest and best
custodian, there are drawings which give
some faint idea OF the appearance Of the
crypt. In these dark and dungeon like vaults
| the collins are piled one upon another like
! plank in lumber yard. No privacy, no
! order, no sanctity-nothing that we natu-
rally associate with the grave. For there are
no graves; except that the whole crypt is
| grave, into which the illustrious dead are
huddled, to be crowded and jostled by their
illustrious predecessors.
Browning may well envy Shelley, Keats
and Wordsworth; who lie out in the open
where the wind may WOO the sod that covers
them, and the sunshine brighten it. and the
rain bless it. He may envy any of the poets
who are not in Westminster, except Byrork
whose post mortem residence is, if possible,
more unpleasant than his own. For the an
cient abbey is the center of great and glorious
memories, which partly redeem the charnel
house beneath; while HucknalI- Torkard has
no redeemlng feature whatever Standing in
the midst of the dirtiest and most tInprepos-
sessing village | have seen in England, the
little old church is hopelessly ugly and dismal
within and without Yet they thrust poor
Byron, who SO dearly loved nature and sung
its praises as no other poet has, into 4
wretched pit where, as the sexton told me,
sixty corpses are rottlng in space probably
less than twenty-five feet square Better have
him flung into the sea, which, of all nature,
be loved the most. Better have buried him
where he wanted to be buried, close By MS
dog Boatswain, on the lawn at Newstead
But there was one and she the nearest and
dearest, who was not afraid nor ashamed to
follow him into this Wretched pit The
countess Of Lovelace-"Ada sole daughter of
my house and heart"--Tsas by her own ul.-
gent, dying request laid BY the side of the
father whom she never saw after earliest in
fancy; whom she knew only through his
books, and whom she had been taught from
childhood to distrust if not to hate. Of all
the tributes which have been paid to the sore
Iy abused memory of Byron, the love of his
dying daughter is incomparably the finest,
the most touching, the most tender and true.
Scott Is more fortunate than Byron in the
matter of burial, but there is room for criti-
cism even in his case. Dryburg is a ruined
abbey much larger than Melrose, but not SO
attractive. Why it was chosen as the last
house of the Wizard of the North" instead
of fair Melrose," which he has so gracefully
imnortalized, L cannot guess. But so it is
and the visitor is directed TO ''St Mary's
Aisle, a shattered remnant Of the original !
building, for the object of his pilgrimage The |
so called ''aisle" is perhaps twenty feet long
by ten wide, and faces a lovely bit Of green
sward as smooth and soft as velvet There
Is an alcove, behind a stout iron gate are four |
large slabs of granite in horizontal position,
raised little above the ground by side and
end pieces OF the same material. The one /
farthest from the gate belongs to Lady Scott,
the next to her famous husband and the next /
considerably lower down-to their only son, !
Lieut. Col. Scott, who died while still young
man. At the feet of these three lies John /
Gibson Lockhart, the son-in-law and biogra-
pher of the great novelist
BURNS AND WORDSWORTH.
Burns, we know, was not consulted as to
the disposition Of the body. which he was
only too glad to lay aside He was originally
buried in an obscure corner of the crowded
little cemetery attached to 81 Micnaels
church, Dumfries. But when his fame began
to fill the world the people who allowed him
TO De dunned on his deathbed for debt Of
$50, gave the poet ''mansoleun," which
Burns would have unequivocaliy damned for
its bad taste and pretentious ugliness. It is
OF light colOred sandstone OctagonaI in shape.
perhaps fifteen or twenty feet 10 the top of
the dome and ten or Twelve from side TO side
Here Is another gate. strong enough for
prison, which has 10 be unlocked ''for con-
SiJeration;" and then you see upon the floor
Of the prison a very large slab of sonber
tinted stone, bearing very matter Of fact in
scription.
To find what may with, truth be called an
deal grave, so to tho little hamlet Of Gras-
mere, not far from Lake Windermere, and
'tlu nearer 10 Rydal, where Wordsworth
lved and died. This being pre-eininently
the lake region of England (Which. by the
way, has given the name TO the Lake Poets'
W ordSTorth, Soathey ana the rest, Gras-
1fei'e has us lake, OF course: g very small one
Sut very pretty. Ii Ii were in New instead ,
II Old England il would ba called q pond
short walk from its bright waters. along
he high road, brings You 10 a rude, low
proved stone church, which looks its age.
md IL was dedicated eight years ago to ST. ,
oswald, whoever he may be. In its shadow !
: the humble Gods Acre" wnerc for these :
90 years graves have been dug by the living
0 be filled by the dead. .
A low, rustic gate stands invitingiy open.
nd well trodden path leads 10 the south
asst corner, where, inclosed by light iron
ence, IS a group Of grassy mounds. The
ne you have come 10 see has plain tomb
tone OF dark slate at its head. with this
nipple inscription: William Wordsworth,
50. Mary Wordsworth. 1859
Husband and wife are evidently united in
e2th aS IN Lfe-burled in tee same grave
: hen saw It, in the early days OF IN Eng
sA June, 1t was thickiy covered vita wild
overs. among which the daisy was conspic-
ouS: 80 that the poet literally sleeps under