WESTMINSTER ABBEY
Longfellow was the first American to be commemorated, on the mere ground
of public service and distant kinship of blood, in Westminster Abbey.
The impressions made by that circumstance in America were very various,
but might be classed under two leading attitudes. There were those to
whom the English-speaking race seemed one, and Westminster Abbey its
undoubted central shrine, an opinion of which Lowell was a high
representative, as his speech on the occasion showed. There were those,
on the other hand, to whom the American republic seemed a wholly new
fact in the universe, and one which should have its own shrines. To this
last class the "Hall of Fame," upon the banks of the Hudson, would
appeal more strongly than Westminster Abbey; and it is probable that the
interest inspired by that enterprise was partly due, at the outset, to
the acceptance of Longfellow in England's greatest shrine. It may be
fairly said, however, on reflection, that there is no absolute
inconsistency between these two opinions. No one, surely, but must
recognize the dignity of the proceeding when an American writer, born
and bred, is, as it were, invited after death to stand as a permanent
representative of his race in the storied abbey. On the other hand, it
may easily be conceded that the dignitaries of Westminster are not, of
themselves, necessarily so well versed in American claims as to make
their verdict infallible or even approximate. The true solution would
appear to be that in monuments, as in all other forms of recognition,
each nation should have its own right of selection, and that it should
be recognized as a gratifying circumstance when these independent
judgments happen to coincide. The following is the best London report of
the services on this occasion:--
"On Saturday, March 2, 1884, at midday, the ceremony of unveiling a bust
of Longfellow took place in Poets' Corner, Westminster Abbey. It is the
work of Mr. Thomas Brock, A. R. A., and was executed by desire of some
five hundred admirers of the American poet. It stands on a bracket near
the tomb of Chaucer, and between the memorials to Cowley and Dryden.
Before the ceremony took place, a meeting of the subscribers was held in
the Jerusalem Chamber. In the absence of Dean Bradley, owing to a death
in his family, the Sub-Dean, Canon Prothero, was called to the chair.
"Mr. Bennoch having formally announced the order of proceeding, Dr.
Bennett made a brief statement, and called upon Earl Granville to ask
the Dean's acceptance of the bust.
"Earl Granville then said: 'Mr. Sub-Dean, Ladies and Gentlemen, ... I am
afraid I cannot fulfil the promise made for me of making a speech on
this occasion. Not that there are wanting materials for a speech; there
are materials of the richest description. There are, first of all, the
high character, the refinement, and the personal charm of the late
illustrious poet,--if I may say so in the presence of those so near and
so dear to him. There are also the characteristics of those works which
have secured for him not a greater popularity in the United States
themselves than in this island and in all the English-speaking
dependencies of the British Empire. There are, besides, very large views
with regard to the literature which is common to both the United States
and ourselves, and with regard to the separate branches of literature
which have sprung up in each country, and which act and react with so
much advantage one upon another; and there are, above all, those
relations of a moral and intellectual character which become bonds
stronger and greater every day between the intellectual and cultivated
classes of these two great countries. I am happy to say that with such
materials there are persons here infinitely more fitted to deal than I
could have been even if I had had time to bestow upon the thought and
the labor necessary to condense into the limits of a speech some of the
considerations I have mentioned. I am glad that among those present
there is one who is not only the official representative of the United
States, but who speaks with more authority than any one with regard to
the literature and intellectual condition of that country. I cannot but
say how glad I am that I have been present at two of the meetings held
to inaugurate this work, and I am delighted to be present here to take
part in the closing ceremony. With the greatest pleasure I make the
offer of this memorial to the Sub-Dean; and from the kindness we have
received already from the authorities of Westminster Abbey, I have no
doubt it will be received in the same spirit. I beg to offer you, Mr.
Sub-Dean, the bust which has been subscribed for.'
"The American Minister, Mr. Lowell, then said: 'Mr. Sub-Dean, my Lord,
Ladies and Gentlemen, I think I may take upon myself the responsibility,
in the name of the daughters of my beloved friend, to express their
gratitude to Lord Granville for having found time, amid the continuous
and arduous calls of his duty, to be present here this morning. Having
occasion to speak in this place some two years ago, I remember that I
then expressed the hope that some day or other the Abbey of Westminster
would become the Valhalla of the whole English-speaking race. I little
expected then that a beginning would be made so soon,--a beginning at
once painful and gratifying in the highest degree to myself,--with the
bust of my friend. Though there be no Academy in England which
corresponds to that of France, yet admission to Westminster Abbey forms
a sort of posthumous test of literary eminence perhaps as effectual.
Every one of us has his own private Valhalla, and it is not apt to be
populous. But the conditions of admission to the Abbey are very
different. We ought no longer to ask why is so-and-so here, and we ought
always to be able to answer the question why such a one is not here. I
think that on this occasion I should express the united feeling of the
whole English-speaking race in confirming the choice which has been
made,--the choice of one whose name is dear to them all, who has
inspired their lives and consoled their hearts, and who has been
admitted to the fireside of all of them as a familiar friend. Nearly
forty years ago I had occasion, in speaking of Mr. Longfellow, to
suggest an analogy between him and the English poet Gray; and I have
never since seen any reason to modify or change that opinion. There are
certain very marked analogies between them, I think. In the first place,
there is the same love of a certain subdued splendor, not inconsistent
with transparency of diction; there is the same power of absorbing and
assimilating the beauties of other literature without loss of
originality; and, above all, there is that genius, that sympathy with
universal sentiments and the power of expressing them so that they come
home to everybody, both high and low, which characterize both poets.
There is something also in that simplicity,--simplicity in itself being
a distinction. But in style, simplicity and distinction must be combined
in order to their proper effect; and the only warrant perhaps of
permanence in literature is this distinction in style. It is something
quite indefinable; it is something like the distinction of
good-breeding, characterized perhaps more by the absence of certain
negative qualities than by the presence of certain positive ones. But it
seems to me that distinction of style is eminently found in the poet
whom we are met here in some sense to celebrate to-day. This is not the
place, of course, for criticism; still less is it the place for eulogy,
for eulogy is but too often disguised apology. But I have been struck
particularly--if I may bring forward one instance--with some of my late
friend's sonnets, which seem to me to be some of the most beautiful and
perfect we have in the language. His mind always moved straight towards
its object, and was always permeated with the emotion that gave it
frankness and sincerity, and at the same time the most ample expression.
It seems that I should add a few words--in fact, I cannot refrain from
adding a few words--with regard to the personal character of a man whom
I knew for more than forty years, and whose friend I was honored to call
myself for thirty years. Never was a private character more answerable
to public performance than that of Longfellow. Never have I known a more
beautiful character. I was familiar with it daily,--with the constant
charity of his hand and of his mind. His nature was consecrated ground,
into which no unclean spirit could ever enter. I feel entirely how
inadequate anything that I can say is to the measure and proportion of
an occasion like this. But I think I am authorized to accept, in the
name of the people of America, this tribute to not the least
distinguished of her sons, to a man who in every way, both in public and
private, did honor to the country that gave him birth. I cannot add
anything more to what was so well said in a few words by Lord Granville,
for I do not think that these occasions are precisely the times for set
discourses, but rather for a few words of feeling, of gratitude, and of
appreciation.'
"The Sub-Dean, in accepting the bust, remarked that it was impossible
not to feel, in doing so, that they were accepting a very great honor to
the country. He could conceive that if the great poet were allowed to
look down on the transactions of that day, he would not think it
unsatisfactory that his memorial had been placed in that great Abbey
among those of his brothers in poetry.
"The Chancellor of the Exchequer moved a vote of thanks to the honorary
secretary and the honorary treasurer, and said he thought he had been
selected for the duty because he had spent two or three years of his
life in the United States, and a still longer time in some of the
British colonies. It gave him the greater pleasure to do this, having
known Mr. Longfellow in America, and having from boyhood enjoyed his
poetry, which was quite as much appreciated in England and her
dependencies as in America. Wherever he had been in America, and
wherever he had met Americans, he had found there was one place at least
which they looked upon as being as much theirs as it was England's--that
place was the Abbey Church of Westminster. It seemed, therefore, to him
that the present occasion was an excellent beginning of the recognition
of the Abbey as what it had been called,--the Valhalla of the
English-speaking people. He trusted this beginning would not be the end
of its application in this respect.
"The company then proceeded to Poets' Corner, where, taking his stand in
front of the covered bust,
"The Sub-Dean then said: 'I feel to-day that a double solemnity attaches
to this occasion which calls us together. There is first the familiar
fact that to-day we are adding another name to the great roll of
illustrious men whom we commemorate within these walls, that we are
adding something to that rich heritage which we have received of
national glory from our ancestors, and which we feel bound to hand over
to our successors, not only unimpaired, but even increased. There is
then the novel and peculiar fact which attaches to the erection of a
monument here to the memory of Henry Longfellow. In some sense,
poets--great poets like him--may be said to be natives of all lands; but
never before have the great men of other countries, however brilliant
and widespread their fame, been admitted to a place in Westminster
Abbey. A century ago America was just commencing her perilous path of
independence and self-government. Who then could have ventured to
predict that within the short space of one hundred years we in England
should be found to honor an American as much as we could do so by giving
his monument a place within the sacred shrine which holds the memories
of our most illustrious sons? Is there not in this a very significant
fact; is it not an emphatic proof of the oneness which belongs to our
common race, and of the community of our national glories? May I not
add, is it not a pledge that we give to each other that nothing can long
and permanently sever nations which are bound together by the eternal
ties of language, race, religion, and common feeling?'
"The reverend gentleman then removed the covering from the bust, and the
ceremony ended."{99}
{99 _Life_, iii. 346-351.}