Piper James Richardson, Canadian, V.C., by James P. Beadle |
“In Flanders Fields,” written by Canadian physician John McCrae in May of 1915, was published in Punch magazine December 8, 1915. The poem quickly became one of the most
popular poems of the war, set to music, quoted by politicians, and used to
inspire the purchase of war bonds. Joel Baetz notes, “Within two years it had been reprinted
so many times that McCrae, who was initially surprised and humbled by its
publication, was uninterested in later iterations and annoyed by its continual
misuse.”*
The poem also inspired many response poems, among them “The
Piper,” written by Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery, author of Anne of Green Gables. The first Anne book was published in 1908, but Montgomery continued to write about the adventures of Anne and her family. In her 1921
novel, Rilla of Ingleside, Anne’s son
Walter Blythe joins the Great War, enlisting with the Canadian forces. Before
volunteering, Walter says to a friend, “Before this war is over … every man and
woman and child in Canada will feel it … You will weep tears of blood over it.
The Piper has come—and he will pipe until every corner of the world has heard
his awful and irresistible music. It will be years before the dance of death is
over … And in those years millions of hearts will break.”**
While at the front, Walter writes a poem, a “short, poignant
little thing” that gains immediate popularity, as described in the novel:
Everywhere it was copied—in
metropolitan dailies and little village weeklies, in profound reviews and
“agony columns,” in Red Cross appeals and Government recruiting propaganda.
Mothers and sisters wept over it, young lads thrilled to it, the whole great
heart of humanity caught it up as an epitome of all the pain and hope and pity
and purpose of the might conflict, crystallized in three brief immortal verses.
A Canadian lad in the Flanders trenches had written the one great poem of the
war. “The Piper,” by Pte. Walter Blythe, was a classic from its first printing.***
In the novel, when “The Piper” is read at public gatherings,
crowds respond with cries of “We’ll follow—we’ll follow—we won’t break faith.”† The novel’s poem was almost certainly inspired by McCrae’s “In Flanders Fields.” But in Rilla of Ingleside, the poem itself is
never included. It was only in 1942, in the midst of the
Second World War, that Montgomery included "The Piper" in the manuscript for The Blythes Are
Quoted, the last work she would write. At the start of that book, she explains, “In my books Rainbow Valley and Rilla of Ingleside, a poem is mentioned, “The Piper,” supposed to
have been written and published by Walter Blythe before his death in the First
World War. Although the poem had no real existence many people have written me,
asking where they could get it. It has been written recently, but seems even
more appropriate now than then.”
The Piper
One day the Piper came down the Glen …
Sweet and long and low played he!
The children followed from door to door,
No matter how those who loved might implore
So wiling the song of his melody
As the song of a woodland rill.
Some day the Piper will come again
To pipe to the sons of the maple tree!
You and I will follow from door to door,
Many of us will come back no more …
What matter that if Freedom still
Be the crown of each native hill?
To pipe to the sons of the maple tree!
You and I will follow from door to door,
Many of us will come back no more …
What matter that if Freedom still
Be the crown of each native hill?
—Lucy Maud
Montgomery
In Rilla of Ingleside,
Walter is killed in 1916 at the attack on Courcelette, but in his last
letter to his sister Rilla, written the night before his death, he explains
that he has seen a vision of the Piper:
I was doing sentry-go and I saw him
marching across No-man’s-land from our trenches to the German trenches—the same
tall shadowy form, piping weirdly, —and behind him followed boys in khaki.
Rilla, I tell you I saw him—it was no
fancy—no illusion. I heard his music,
and then —he was gone. But I had seen him—and I knew what it meant—I
knew that I was among those who followed him.
“Rilla,
the Piper will pipe me ‘west’ tomorrow. I feel sure of this. And Rilla, I’m not
afraid. When you hear the news, remember that. I’ve won my own freedom
here—freedom from all fear. I shall never be afraid of anything again—not of
death—nor of life, if, after all, I am to go on living. And life, I think,
would be the harder of the two to face, —for it could never be beautiful for me
again. There would always be such horrible things to remember—things that would
make life ugly and painful always for me. I could never forget them. But
whether it’s life or death, I’m not afraid, Rilla-my-Rilla, and I am not sorry
that I came. I’m satisfied. I’ll
never write the poems I once dreamed of writing—but I’ve helped to make Canada
safe for the poets of the future—ay, and the dreamers, too … ††
Lucy Maud Montgomery |
Walter Blythe closes the letter to his sister, “And you will
tell your children of the Idea we
fought and died for—teach them it must be lived
for as well as died for, else the price paid for it will have been given
for nought. This will be part of your work,
Rilla. And if you —all you girls back in the homeland—do it, then we who don’t
come back will know that you have not ‘broken faith’ with us.”†††
-----------------------------------------------------
* Joel Baetz, Battle Lines:
Canadian Poetry in English and the First World War, Wilfrid Laurier UP,
2018.
** Lucy Maud Montgomery, Rilla
of Ingleside, Frederick A. Stokes, 1921, pp. 44-45.
*** Rilla, pp.
226-227.
† Rilla, p. 242.
†† Rilla, pp. 257-258.
††† Rilla, p. 259.
Dear Connie,
ReplyDeleteJust read your moving contribution.
As it is, I am currently preparing the publication of a book that I intend to write on the subject of peace (in the recent period).
In fact, I should like to "give a penny for your thoughts on the matter. I might get into touch with you with regard to this.
I might have reacted earlier on your forum, stating that in the village where I used to live, the inscription of the statue for the fallen - 53 dead in a village of no more than 4,000 - runs thus:
"Welk nut ligt er in het storten van ons bloed?", meaning "What use is there in the shedding of our blood?"
Today (2020/02/6) I read in my newspaper that the decisive endgame seems to be definitively underway in northwest Syria. A final clash is underway between R.T.Erdogan's Turkish troops and the régime forces of Syria's President Assad. Erdogan is quoted as saying ²that "Where the blood of Turkish soldiers is shed, nothing can ever remain the same".
In the serene grounds of Tyne Cot Military Cemetery (Passchendaele, nr Ypres) I could easily point you out the headstone of one Cpl. Young, into which was engraved a meaningful inscription that world leaders like Erdogan and Assad ought to read:
"Sacrificed to the fallacy that war can end war". This basically sums up my thoughts on the matter. You may be aware of the fact that Flanders, where we live, has been the theatre of a seemingly endless string of wars (Roman times, the Middle Ages, The Spanish era, the Austrian period, Napoleon, the Great War, the Second World War,...). My maternal granddad was a war refugee (England) in 194-15. My paternal granddad lost his life aged 41 in May 1918. My dad was a 3 month old baby when it happened. He never saw his dad alive.
All best to you, Chris
Dear Chris,
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like a wonderful project. It would be lovely to meet when I'm next in Ypres (no immediate plans at the present though). :(
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteHello, English is my second language and I can't quite understand the poems last frase "What matter that if Freedom still. Be the crown of each native hill?" Could you please tell me what you think Walther meant by that?
ReplyDeleteHere's a paraphrase that may help:
DeleteWhat does it matter (our deaths) if freedom still crowns (survives and reigns) on every native hill?