ed
to its depths, and in a glow of patriotic enthusiasm he immediately
wrote down a rough draft of "The Star-spangled Banner."

On his arrival in Baltimore he perfected the first copy of the song,
and gave it to Captain Benjamin Eades, of the 27th Baltimore Regiment,
saying that he wished it to be sung to the air of "Anacreon in Heaven."
Eades had it put in type, and took the first proof to a famous old
tavern near the Holliday Street Theater, a favorite resort of actors
and literary people of that day. The verses were read to the company
assembled there, and Frederick Durang, an actor, was asked to sing them
to the air designated by the author. Durang, mounting a chair, sang as
requested. The song was enthusiastically received. From that moment it
became the great popular favorite that it has ever since been, and that
it will continue to be as long as the American republic exists.

Key died in Baltimore on January 11, 1843. A monument was erected to
his memory by the munificence of James Lick, a Californian millionaire.
The sculptor to whom the work was intrusted was the celebrated W. W.
Story, who completed it in 1887. The monument, which is fifty-one feet
high, stands in Golden Gate Park, San Francisco. It is built of
travertine, in the form of a double arch, under which a bronze statue
of Key is seated. A bronze figure, representing America with an
unfolded flag, supports the arch.

On the occasion of the unveiling of this statue, the New York Home
Journal contained an appreciative criticism of Key as a poet, and the
following estimate of his greatest production.

"The poetry of the 'Star-spangled Banner' has touches of delicacy for
which one looks in vain in most national odes, and is as near a true
poem as any national ode ever was. The picture of the 'dawn's early
light' and the tricolor, half concealed, half disclosed, amid the mists
that wreathed the battle-sounding Patapsco, is a true poetic concept.

"The 'Star-spangled Banner' has the peculiar merit of not being a
tocsin song, like the 'Marseillaise.' Indeed, there is not a restful,
soothing, or even humane sentiment in all that stormy shout. It is the
scream of oppressed humanity against its oppressor, presaging a more
than quid pro quo; and it fitly prefigured the sight of that long file
of tumbrils bearing to the Place de la Revolution the fairest scions of
French aristocracy. On the other hand, 'God Save the King,' in its
original, has one or two li