It is pretty generally known that when Sir Theodore Martin desired, in honor of Lady Martin’s memory, to place a Helen Faucit memorial in the chancel of Trinity Church, Stratford-on-Avon, it was Miss Marie Corelli who undertook a successful campaign against the project. Sir Theodore Martin most ardently wished to execute his intention, and he had progressed so far with the negotiations that his desires were on the point of being carried out; and they would have been but for the active intervention of Miss Corelli, who roused the whole town of Stratford into energetic protest against the proposed invasion of Shakespeare’s own particular shrine. It was Sir Theodore’s idea to place a bas-relief of Helen Faucit immediately opposite the historical bust of the Poet, on the other side of the chancel, but in an equally if not more prominent position.
Miss Corelli began her campaign with a letter to the Morning Post calling public attention to Sir Theodore’s plan, and the whole Press backed up her efforts with hearty unanimity. The late Sir Arthur Hodgson had taken the chief responsibility of supporting Sir Theodore Martin, but in his haste and zeal had forgotten to ascertain whether he could legally remove from the wall of the chancel two mural tablets which occupied the intended site of the proposed Helen Faucit effigy. The then Bishop of Worcester, Dr. Perowne, a great personal friend of Sir Arthur’s, was persuaded to grant a “faculty” for their removal, without due inquiry. Miss Corelli, however, discovered the descendants of the very family those mural tablets belonged to, and found that their permission had not been sought, or their existence considered. Whereupon the law promptly stepped in, and Sir Theodore Martin was compelled to withdraw. Otherwise the modern stone-mason would have gone to work in the hallowed precincts of Shakespeare’s grave, and a piece of wholly unecclesiastical sculpture would have overlooked the Poet’s place of family sepulture, a place which Shakespeare himself purchased for his own interment, and which all the world of literature rightly considers should be left to his remains, uninvaded.
The bas-relief of Lady Martin, had it been put up, would have shown her figure turned with its back to the altar, the medallion of Shakespeare lying at her feet! The whole thing was out of place, and out of tune with the national sentiment, as though Helen Faucit was an eminent actress in her day, she had no connection with Stratford-on-Avon; moreover, she was not British-born. Miss Corelli’s fight was a hard one, for though Mr. Sidney Lee, who was entirely on her side, wrote to Sir Theodore Martin himself to expostulate with him on the mistaken idea he had taken up, nothing would have had any effect had not Miss Corelli fortunately discovered the descendants of the family whose mural tablets were about to be displaced without their permission. When she at last won the day, the whole Press broke out unanimously in a chorus of praise and congratulation, which must have been a singular experience for her, so long inured to disparagement. She was bombarded by telegrams from almost every quarter of the globe, particularly from America, expressing the thanks of all lovers of Shakespeare.
It is a pity some one like Marie Corelli was not in Stratford-on-Avon at the time Shakespeare’s own house, “New Place,” was demolished. Had there been such an one, the chances are that the house would be still standing as one of the world’s priceless treasures. Many precious shrines are defaced, and many valuable mementoes lost for lack of some one to speak out who is not afraid to give an opinion. Shakespeare’s townspeople are grateful to the novelist who fought their Poet’s cause single-handed, and won it in the face of powerful opposition.
* * * * * *
Concerning the portraits of Miss Corelli, her experiences have not been particularly pleasing. It will be remembered that a large oil painting of the novelist was exhibited at Messrs. Graves’ Art Gallery, Pall Mall. This portrait was painted for two reasons: first, because Miss Corelli knew at the time of its execution that she was the victim of a serious malady which might, it was then feared, shortly end her life; and secondly, because she wished to leave some resemblance of herself to her dearest friend, Miss Vyver.
Miss Donald-Smith painted the picture and also executed two “pastel” portraits. Miss Corelli gave several sittings to the artist at a time when her illness was causing her the acutest agony, and when the hours thus spent in the studio were to her a perfect martyrdom. At Miss Donald-Smith’s request she permitted her to send the large picture to the Academy, where it was rejected. It was then exhibited by Messrs. Graves, and was at once made the subject of personal and abusive attacks, not on the artist, but on Marie Corelli herself for being painted at all! Some journalists went so far as to accuse her of “taking the gate-money” and “speculating in her own portrait.” As a matter of fact, Miss Corelli received none of the percentage allowed on the photogravures of the picture, and it may be added that she withdrew the picture altogether from public view before it had been long on exhibition.
Another portrait was painted by Mr. Ellis Roberts for himself. He asked Marie Corelli to sit for him, having always been one of her greatest admirers. He did not, of course, know that she consented to sit for the same primary reason as for the other—namely, that she did not then expect to live more than a few months—and that she wished to bequeathe some “presentment” of herself to those who might care for it. Mr. Roberts is probably not aware to this day that she was often almost fainting when she left his studio after a prolonged “sitting.” He has never seen her since she recovered her health and good spirits: if he had, it is probable he would wish to make another sketch of her.
We may add that Miss Corelli still declines to allow a portrait of herself to be published—a decision which we regret. For many are the “surprises” that have been given to those expectant of meeting in the novelist a severe literary woman with spectacles and a bilious complexion. It may be truly said that Marie Corelli is very light-hearted, always high-spirited, and full of fun; people who represent her as morbid, brooding on her own “sorrows,” or grumbling at the world in general, have never seen her, and can form no idea of her disposition.
She is really a most charming lady, a most hospitable hostess, a delightful raconteur, a brilliant musician, a woman of broad views and large sympathies, a true and staunch friend, always glad to do a kindly action.