Month: November 2011

John McCrae

Written by Lawrance, W on 30th November, 2011. Posted in Poet Biographies.

Born on 30th November, John McCrae was the second son of Ontario-based Lieutenant-General David McCrae and his wife Janet Simpson Eckford. John’s early education took place at the Central Public School and then at Guelph Collegiate Institute, where he took his first steps into the military, joining the Highland Cadet Corps at the age of fourteen. Academically, John was a high achiever and was the first student from the town of Guelph to be awarded a scholarship to the University of Toronto.

In 1892, ill-health forced McCrae to take a whole year out of university and this recurring asthma would plague him intermittently for the remainder of his life. During this year, he met and formed a close attachment to the 18-year old sister of one of his friends, but she tragically died before the relationship could really develop. When McCrae returned to Toronto in 1893, he was relieved to leave this troubled time behind and resume his studies. McCrae completed a BA in Natural Sciences, before commencing his medical training, qualifying as a doctor in 1898, at the age of twenty-six, when he graduated at the top of his class. Within a year, McCrae had joined his older brother, Thomas, working at the Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore.

In 1899, McCrae was awarded a fellowship in Pathology at McGill University in Montreal, but postponed this in order to enlist in the Army and participate in the Boer War. He joined D Battery of the Royal Canadian Artillery, sailing for South Africa on January 20th 1900. Once arrived, McCrae was caught up in some fierce fighting, but also visited a military hospital, where he found the conditions to be quite appalling. In 1901, McCrae was promoted to Captain and his unit returned to Canada, where he was praised for his conduct. In 1902, he was again promoted, to the rank of Major, finally resigning his commission two years later.

Once back in Canada, McCrae had resumed his position at McGill University and also undertook a year of study in Britain before gaining his qualifications from the Royal College of Physicians, enabling him to set up his own practice in Montreal in 1905. Years of professional success and recognition followed, but this was not mirrored in McCrae’s personal life and despite several romances, this eligible bachelor never married.

McCrae made several visits to Europe during this time and was on board a ship bound for England when the First World War was declared. Canada swiftly followed Great Britain in declaring war on Germany and McCrae sent home a telegram offering his services to the Canadian Forces, either as a doctor, or an artillery officer. Arriving back in Canada in September 1914, he was appointed Brigade Surgeon with his old rank of Major.

McCrae set sail for England again on October 3rd 1914, taking with him a horse named Bonfire. Upon arrival, he spent several months in training before embarking for France in February 1915, where he took part in the Battle of Neuve Chapelle. Then in April 1915, McCrae’s unit was moved to the Ypres Salient, where the Germans first employed chlorine gas. In the Second Battle of Ypres, over 60% of the Canadian troops who participated were either killed or wounded.

On May 2nd, one of McCrae’s close friends, Lieutenant Alex Helmer was killed by shellfire. McCrae took charge of a hastily convened funeral service that saw Helmer buried in a make-shift grave just behind the lines, where wild poppies were beginning to flower between the growing number of wooden crosses. This scene, coupled with his feelings, inspired McCrae to write his poem In Flanders Fields, which was reputedly composed the following day.

As the fighting continued through the summer, McCrae was transferred to the Canadian Army Medical Corps and was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. He was made Chief of Medical Services at No 3 Canadian General Hospital near Boulogne.

In Flanders Fields was published anonymously in Punch Magazine on 8th December 1915 and was an instant success, touching the hearts of millions. However, such a long period of service in France was beginning to take its toll on McCrae’s health. After the Battle of the Somme, he was hospitalised at Wimereux, suffering from severe asthma attacks. He had a short period of leave in England, but was back in France in time to treat the wounded from the Battle of Vimy Ridge in April 1917.

There followed a summer of very heavy fighting at Passchendaele and, once again, McCrae’s health faltered, until in January 1918 he diagnosed himself as suffering from pneumonia, whereupon he was hospitalised at the Number 14 British General Hospital for Officers. On January 24th it was announced that McCrae had been awarded the position of Consulting Physician to the First British Army, but unfortunately his health continued to deteriorate and four days later, on January 28th 1918, John McCrae died.

He was buried with full military honours at Wimereux Cemetery, with his funeral attended by an impressive list of senior officers, including General Sir Arthur William Currie, the Commander of Canadian Forces, as well as his fellow surgeons and over seventy-five nurses.

Isaac Rosenberg

Written by Lawrance, W on 25th November, 2011. Posted in Poet Biographies.

Isaac Rosenberg was born in Bristol on 25th November 1890, the oldest son and second child of Jewish-Lithuanian immigrants, Dovber and Hacha Rosenberg. Isaac’s twin brother died at birth, making his mother rather protective of him, especially given his poor health and diminutive stature. Dovber and Hacha changed their christian names to Barnet and Anne; the former working as a drapery dealer, although theirs was an impoverished life and the couple had a hostile relationship. This, however, did not prevent the births of four more children by 1899.

In 1897, the family moved to Stepney in London’s East End, where they joined a close Jewish community. Isaac’s artistic nature soon became apparent and his parents did everything they could to assist and encourage their son. He initially attended local Board Schools, but also took additional art classes at the Stepney Green Art School.

At fourteen, Rosenberg left school and was apprenticed as an engraver to Carl Hentschel’s in Fleet Street. This was not really what Rosenberg wanted to do, and he quickly became demoralised, although he kept this position until 1911, realising that his parents needed him to make a financial contribution to the household. In the meantime, to satisfy his craving for literature, Rosenberg joined The Whitechapel Group, which was an assembly of aspiring writers. He also enrolled at the Birkbeck Institute, where he met Paul Nash and concentrated mainly on life drawings, which greatly impressed his tutors.

Having left Hentschel’s in 1911, Rosenberg intended pursuing a career as an artist, but soon found that talent and ambition were not sufficient qualities to guarantee fee paying work. However, his luck changed later that year when three wealthy Jewish benefactors decided to sponsor his tuition at the Slade School of Art.

Although Rosenberg enjoyed his time at the Slade, he found it difficult to make friends and sought solace in poetry, some of which he sent to Laurence Binyon, who gave him enthusiastic encouragement. In 1913, Rosenberg was also introduced to Edward Marsh, who promoted several young poets and the two men would correspond regularly for the remainder of Rosenberg’s life.

When Rosenberg left the Slade in 1914, his health had deteriorated significantly, so he decided to visit his newly married sister, Minnie, in South Africa, where he remained until May 1915. Upon his return to England, Rosenberg still felt no burning urgency to enlist and, in fact only really did so in October 1915, because there was more financial stability to be gained in the army. He initially tried to enlist in the Royal Army Medical Corps, but his health and general physique were considered too poor, so he was sent to a regiment of “Bantams”, formed specifically for men under 5’3″ tall. He served at first with the 12th Suffolk Regiment, until January 1916, when he was transferred to the 12th South Lancs. After this, he was sent to complete his training with the 11th Battalion, Kings Own Royal Lancasters.

As in other establishments in the past, Rosenberg found it difficult to make friends in the army: he was over-sensitive, clumsy and absent-minded, being dubbed as “completely hopeless” by his captain. Despite this, he was sent out to France in June 1916, and went into the trenches near Béthune. Being a private, rather than an officer, it wasn’t easy for Rosenberg to write poetry – even acquiring paper was difficult, but in the autumn of 1916, he still managed to produce what is arguably his most famous poem, Break of Day in the Trenches.

In March 1917, Rosenberg was transferred behind the lines to work on repairing roads and railways and after and uneventful summer, he was finally granted some leave. Like many soldiers, however, although he appreciated the respite from the war, he also found it difficult to adjust to life on the home front. Back in France, the Bantams saw action at Bourlon Wood, where they suffered devastating casualties, although Rosenberg escaped this slaughter, as he was hospitalised in October, suffering from influenza.

March 21st 1918, saw the beginning of the German Spring Offensive and Rosenberg soon found himself in the front lines. On the night of March 31st, he went out on a routine patrol and was killed in the early hours of April 1st. Initially Rosenberg’s body was buried on the battlefield, together with nine of his comrades. Much later, in 1926, the grave was discovered and the bodies removed to Bailleul Road Cemetery. None of the bodies was identifiable, but the Imperial War Graves Commission decided that each should have his own headstone. The following year, the Rosenberg family asked to have the words “Artist and Poet” added to their son’s grave marker.

Charlotte Mew

Written by Lawrance, W on 15th November, 2011. Posted in Poet Biographies.

Charlotte Mary Mew was born on London on 15th November 1869, the third child of architect Frederick Mew and his wife Anna Maria Marden (née Kendall). Charlotte’s mother firmly believed that she had married beneath her and throughout her marriage, despite having seven children, she did very little around the home. The children, Henry, Frederick, Charlotte, Richard, Caroline (known as Anne), Daniel (known as Christopher) and Freda, were cared for by their nurse, Elizabeth Goodman.

Charlotte’s childhood and young adult years were ones of great tragedy and upheaval. In 1876, Christopher, then only four months old, died from “convulsions” and later the same year, Richard, aged five, succumbed to scarlet fever. Henry, the oldest of the children, was committed to a lunatic asylum in 1888, followed by the youngest child, Freda in 1897.

Throughout these unhappy times, Charlotte was educated at The Gower Street School, which was run by Lucy Harrison and in 1894, published her first story, named Passed in The Yellow Book – An Illustrated Quarterly.

In 1898, Charlotte’s father died from stomach cancer and, having always been an extravagant man, he left no capital to the surviving members of his family. Anne had become an artist, so she turned her hand to restoring paintings and antique furniture, while Charlotte continued to write: her stories and poems being published in various magazines and periodicals.

Charlotte’s oldest brother, Henry, died in the Peckham House Lunatic Asylum in 1901 and, unsurprisingly, this series of unhappy events began to take their toll. Charlotte experienced deep feelings of sorrow, helped only by Anne – always the more optimistic of the two sisters – who was her constant companion. Charlotte occasionally travelled alone, leaving Anne to care for their domineering and demanding mother. In 1902, she went to Paris to visit fellow writer, Ella D’Arcy, with whom Charlotte was in love. Ella, however, did not reciprocate these feelings and Charlotte returned to London disappointed and dejected.

Few of Charlotte and Anne’s 20th century friends knew of their earlier tragedies and by 1909, Charlotte’s work was becoming more well known. She gave poetry readings and was more widely published, gaining critical acclaim for her work. However, in 1913, Charlotte suffered a further personal unhappiness when she met fellow writer May Sinclair. The two became close friends, but when Charlotte made romantic advances, May rejected her and, to make matters worse, it is alleged that May publicly humiliated Charlotte over her actions.

Luckily, many of Charlotte’s true friends ignored the potential scandal and embarrassment caused by this episode and continued to support her work. Harold Monro of the Poetry Bookshop was one such champion and through him, Charlotte was introduced to Sydney Cockrell, Thomas Hardy and Siegfried Sassoon, who often cited Charlotte as his favourite female poet. When Sassoon first met Charlotte in June 1919, he realised that the two sisters had little money and an elderly mother to support, so he offered Charlotte paid work, writing reviews for the Daily Herald, of which he was the Literary Editor.

In December 1922, Charlotte’s mother died, leaving the two sisters, now in their 50s, to themselves. They lived quietly, their financial hardship eased by the award of a Civil List Pension to Charlotte. This award was achieved after Thomas Hardy, John Masefield and Walter de la Mare had lobbied the relevant authorities to recognise the quality of Charlotte’s work.

Finally, in June 1927, there came a tragedy from which Charlotte could not recover: Anne died from cancer. Grief overwhelmed Charlotte: she rarely slept and she became convinced that Anne had been buried alive. Seven difficult months later, she was admitted to a nursing home where it was hoped that her nervous disorder could be treated. On 24th March 1928, Charlotte took her own life by drinking half a bottle of disinfectant. At the inquest into her death, the doctor said that, following Anne’s death, Charlotte had become convinced that she was surrounded by germs and she believed that these had killed her sister.

Described in one obituary as a “poet of rare quality”, Charlotte Mew never really appreciated her talents, having a low opinion of her own abilities. The literary world, however, mourned her loss, hoping that, perhaps in death she had found peace and had escaped from her disillusionment and loneliness.

Redeeming Features

Written by Lawrance, W on 11th November, 2011. Posted in Background.

Further to yesterday’s BBC Radio 4 Today programme broadcast, I have now read an article in this morning’s Telegraph online entitled “Unpublished poems shed light on Siegfried Sassoon” in which Dr Jean Moorcroft Wilson, described as “Sassoon’s biographer” (she’s actually one of several and not necessarily the most eminent, or recent) expresses her surprise that “after angry war poems” Sassoon had written “poems full of the glory of war and the idea that war is an heroic venture”. These words are taken from the BBC interview, but the re-airing of them in the Telegraph article demonstrates and reiterates a worrying lack of understanding about the poet which surprises me.

Sassoon himself dated his first “outspoken” war poem as being In the Pink which was written on 10th February 1916. So, it seems to me that anything written prior to this could be open to the interpretation that he was still coming to terms with the war and his experiences and, quite probably, hadn’t yet made his mind up as to how he wished to write about it. The fact that these unpublished works under discussion, which show an attitude that is not necessarily “typical” of Sassoon, were discovered in the January 1916 diaries is, therefore, no surprise to me.

The article in the Telegraph and the BBC interview quote Sassoon’s November 1915 poem The Redeemer (not simply “Redeemer” as stated in the article) which Sassoon ends with the the phrase “Oh Christ Almighty, now I’m stuck!”. The point of this quote appears to be to show that Sassoon had written an “angry poem” in November 1915, and then in January 1916, had written these unpublished, yet more glorifying pieces. However, The Redeemer was, according notes written by Sassoon himself, (provided in Rupert Hart-Davis’s edition of Sassoon’s War Poems (Faber and Faber 1983)), “revised and rewritten March 1916”. Therefore, its classification as a November 1915 poem is a little dubious.

Another point to note is that really The Redeemer can’t be judged as being anti-war, or “angry”, despite its final line, which is actually a description of a soldier who, having dropped a “load of planks” “in the muck” of a darkened trench, finds himself struggling, quite literally through the mud and is “stuck” – hence his declaration. The poem, as a whole, is a description of Sassoon’s perception of the fine work of the men who trudge along the trenches in the dark, carrying supplies and the ending of the third verse, in fact, reads:
“But to the end, unjudging, he’ll endure
Horror and pain, not uncontent to die
That Lancaster and Lune may stand secure.”
In light of quotes such as this, and reading the poem as whole, The Redeemer can hardly be deemed to be a piece that falls into Sassoon’s typical bitter or satirical later verses. In fact it appears to be quite supportive of the war and, more especially, the work of those involved.

If a poem praising the “nobility of the fight” had been found after, say, February or March 1916, that would, indeed, have been newsworthy. As it is, this just shows a lamentable lack of knowledge and understanding of the man as a person and a poet. One expects – perhaps a little too hopefully – a greater degree of integrity.

Edmund Blunden

Written by Lawrance, W on 1st November, 2011. Posted in Poet Biographies.

Edmund Charles Blunden was born on London on November 1st 1896, the oldest child of headmaster Charles Blunden and his wife, Margaret (née Georgina Margaret Tyler). After the arrival of two more children, the Blundens moved to Yalding in Kent, where Charles became headmaster of the local village school. Edmund passed a very happy childhood here and a further six children were born to Margaret, to whom Edmund was devoted.

Blunden began his senior education at Cleaves Grammar School in 1907, before winning a place at Christ’s Hospital in Horsham, West Sussex, which he attended as a boarder from 1909. Although homesick, Blunden was desperately keen to succeed, and worked hard, publishing his first poem in the school magazine in 1913.

When the First World War began, Blunden completed his final year at school, gaining a scholarship to Queen’s College Oxford, which he duly postponed in favour of a commission in the Royal Sussex Regiment. Following his training, Blunden embarked for France in the spring of 1916, where his battalion saw action on or around the Somme battlefields during that summer. In November, just as the battle was coming to a close, Blunden was awarded the Military Cross for his part in a reconnaissance mission, the citation for which read as follows:

“For conspicuous gallantry in action. He displayed great courage and determination when in charge of a carrying party under heavy fire. He has previously done fine work.”

Blunden also saw action at Passchendaele in 1917 and then in 1918 was posted to a training camp near Stowmarket in Suffolk.

Despite Blunden’s feelings of guilt over this “safe” posting, he found some compensations: namely a whirlwind romance with blacksmith’s daughter Mary Daines, whom he married in June 1918. By the time Blunden returned to France, the war was actually over and Mary was also pregnant, so he was pleased to be demobilised in February 1919. Blunden’s place at Oxford still awaited and to fill the time until October, he focused on his poetry. In May he wrote, enclosing some poems, to Siegfried Sassoon, newly appointed literary editor of the Daily Herald. Sassoon responded favourably, the two men met and a lifelong friendship began, out of which Blunden was introduced to many other literary figures.

In July 1919, Mary gave birth to a daughter named Joy, who sadly died when only a few weeks old. Both parents were devastated and Blunden threw himself into his work, going up to Oxford as planned in October, where he met Robert Graves, John Masefield, and Robert Nichols. His time at Oxford was cut short, however, when Mary became pregnant again and he had to find work, editing the journal Athenaeum. Another daughter, Clare, was born in October 1920, followed by a son, John two years later, but by now Blunden’s marriage was under severe strain. When Blunden was offered the position of Professor of English at Tokyo University in 1924, he accepted, leaving Mary and his children behind.

While in Japan, Blunden began writing his memoir Undertones of War and also had an affair with his secretary, Aki Hayashi, who returned with him to England at the end of his contract in 1927, although by then their affair had ended. Mary, however, had also met someone else and, upon Blunden’s return, she announced her intention to leave him.

Blunden, again, threw himself into his work, completing Undertones of War and two volumes of poetry, his stretched finances assisted by a gift of £50.00 per month, given to him by Siegfried Sassoon. Blunden’s divorce from Mary was finalised in 1931, after which he began teaching English at Merton College, Oxford. He also compiled the poems of Wilfred Owen and wrote a biography to accompany them for publication, bringing Owen’s work to the attention of the general public.

While at Oxford, Blunden met and married writer Sylva Norman in 1933 and in 1936 he was appointed as an advisor to the Imperial War Graves Commission. At the beginning of the Second World War, Sylva joined the forces and, in her absence, Blunden began a romance with an undergraduate named Claire Poynting. When Sylva heard about this affair, she returned to Oxford, proposing an uneasy compromise, whereby she would remain Blunden’s wife, but allow him to continue seeing Claire. The strain of this situation soon became too much and eventually Blunden and Sylva were divorced and he married Claire in May 1945, by which time he had left Oxford to work at the Times Literary Supplement.

In 1946, Claire gave birth to the first of four daughters, named Margaret, and the following year, Blunden accepted a Foreign Office position in Japan, where the family lived for the next three years and where two further daughters – Lucy and Frances – were born. Upon their return to England, Blunden was awarded the CBE in 1951 and resumed his work at the TLS. In 1953, Blunden collaborated with composer Gerald Finzi to produce a collection of poems by Ivor Gurney, whom both men greatly admired.

The next eleven years were spent as Head of English at the University of Hong Kong, where Blunden’s final daughter, Catherine, was born. When they returned to England in 1964, the family settled at Long Melford in Suffolk. Two years later, Blunden was elected Professor of Poetry at Oxford University, although he was forced to resign from this position after two years due to ill health, following which he became a virtual recluse. Blunden died peacefully in bed on 20th January 1974. At his funeral, Private A F Beeney, a runner from Blunden’s battalion, dropped a wreath of poppies onto the coffin.

Edmund Blunden is generally acknowledged to have spent more time in the trenches than any other major poet of the First World War. He remained deeply troubled by his experiences during the conflict but his words, both poetry and prose, often reflect a more positive perspective. While Blunden may not have been keen to go, he nonetheless tried to focus on nature and the countryside and, above all, the comradeship of those with whom he felt privileged to have served.

David Jones

Written by Lawrance, W on 1st November, 2011. Posted in Poet Biographies.

Walter David Michael Jones was born in Brockley, Kent on November 1st 1895, the youngest of the three children of printer’s overseer, James Jones and his wife Alice (née Bradshaw). James Jones was of Welsh descent, having been born at Holywell in Flintshire, although he had lived in or near London for several years and his wife came from Rotherhithe.

David, as he became known, took an early and keen interest in art and entered several competitions and exhibitions as a child. At the age of fourteen, he joined the Camberwell Art School, where he realised that his future lay in the world of fine art. Despite this keen interest, however, Jones was uncertain as to exactly what direction he should follow, although this problem was temporarily set aside with the outbreak of the First World War, when he enlisted as a private in the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, embarking for France on 2nd December 1915.

Jones saw action on the Somme, taking part in the attack on Mametz Wood on 10th and 11th of July, during which he was wounded in the leg and invalided back to England. He returned to France in October 1916, but was sent back to England permanently in February 1918, suffering from severe trench fever and was demobilised on January 15th 1919.

After this, Jones accepted a grant to work at Westminster School of Art. In 1921, he converted to the Roman Catholic faith and began working with Eric Gill, who shared many of Jones’s religious and artistic opinions.

In 1927, Jones began writing In Parenthesis, although it was not published until ten years later, with an introduction by T. S. Eliot. Critics find it difficult to categorise In Parenthesis as it seems to be neither poetry nor prose; it is almost two hundred pages long and is written in seven parts in the form of a journey.

Jones also painted and exhibited in both Europe and America, as well as around Britain. In 1952, a second book, The Anathemata was published. Jones also wrote several essays on the subjects of art, history and literature.

Although Jones lived alone, he was not a lonely man and was highly thought of by his many friends, who respected his sense of humour, his generous spirit and his vast knowledge. Despite this, he lived in poverty and suffered at least two serious breakdowns, as well as chronic insomnia. Jones died on 28th October 1974 at Harrow in Middlesex.