Image description here.
“Mr Keat’s origin was of the humblest description”
(Keats’ friend Leigh Hunt in 1838)
The bare details of the life of John Keats are well known. He was born on 29 October 1795, at a livery-stables in Moorfields, London. He died quietly in his sleep on 23 February 1821 in Rome. The immediate cause of his death at such a relatively young age was TB which had caused the death of his brother Tom (aged nineteen) in December 1818. He had nursed his brother and thus had a familiarity with the course of TB (there was no effective treatment until the mid-20th century). In coughing blood in early 1820 he recognised the implications this had for him, saying to his friend Charles Armitage Brown, “I know the colour of that blood! It is arterial blood. I cannot be deceived in that colour. That drop of blood is my death warrant. I must die.”
Keats loved Fanny Brawne and his feelings were shared by her. They became intimate during the winter of 1818/19 but when TB took its hold Keats left for the warmer climate of Rome in September 1820. With his illness, he knew it was unlikely he would see Fanny again and he found himself unable to write to her or read her letters. The voyage to Italy was said to be monotonous and, when the ship reached Italy, Keats and the other passengers were unable to land for several weeks. They were finally permitted to land near Naples on 31 October and Keats headed to Rome after securing the necessary visa and papers at the start of the second week of November. Now his long illness had almost run its course, Keats was calm and said to his friend Joseph Southern: “I shall die easy – don’t be frightened – thank God it has come.” Keats was 25 years old when he died in Rome.
Keats House at Hampstead, London NW3 2RR
Original manuscript, written by Keats’ own hand.
Keats had only written poetry seriously for around six years and the sales of his three published books of poems are thought to have been around 200 copies in total at the time of his death.
The poems of John Keats were not widely known or read in his time and he expressed regret in a letter to Fanny (written probably in February 1820 after he had become aware of his last illness) he had yet to make any lasting mark:
“If I should die,” said I to myself, “I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory — but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered.”