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The poetry of siegfried sassoon

Cumming, Deryck

How to cite: Cumming, Deryck (1969) The poetry of siegfried sassoon, Durham theses, Durham University. Available at Durham E-Theses Online: http://etheses.dur.ac.uk/10240/

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Academic Support Oce, Durham University, University Oce, Old Elvet, Durham DH1 3HP e-mail: [email protected] Tel: +44 0191 334 6107 http://etheses.dur.ac.uk THE POEPRY OF SIEGPEIIED SASSOON

Deryck Gtumning

M.A. thesis University of Durham

The copyright of this thesis rests with the author.

No quotation from it should be published without his prior written consent and information derived

from it should be. acknowledged. page

Early Poems 1

II War Poems, 1915-1917 20

III Counter-Attack 64

IV Picture Show 102

V Poems of the Twenties 115

VI Poems of the Thirties 135

VII Poems of the Fifties I53

VIII Conclusion 167

Bibliography _Ch_cvpt_Gr_ On^

EAHLY POEflS

Siegfried. S-J5soon "born in I8865 the cccond of thrrr sons of Alfred Ezrr, Sr.ssoon r,nd Thcrcsr. Geor^in", ^i^horneycroft. The Sassoons wcro the deEccndr.nts of a lone line of Pcrsi",n- Jewish noTchants r.nd br.nlicrs cstr^hlished in Tol-do r.nd B^-frcY-d in the Middle A^cs. This fcinily ccnc to ho laioim in c.ontcn;?or"ry tines r.s 'the Rothschilds of' the Er^.st' throU;[^2 their c^!nnorci;^l trcnsr.ctions ncinly C",rricd out in the Near Er.st. The religious orthodoxy of' 3ic{;^ricd S",ssoon's more remote rel"tions -.jid the cstrcncencnt of his fr.thoi- fron the fmily irerc pcrh:-,;^^ the rea.sons for his hardly knoTTing them; "Jthough, as a hoy, ho hoard rumours of Great-Uncles --Jho entertained the Sh"h of Porria or TTcro friends of the Prince of Wales. His nearest rclativ anonc the Enc:lish Sassoons Tras Aunt Raclielj editor of' The SwizC.-.-;^ Times and of The Obgcrvcr. Hoirevcr, -trith her invalid hp.cband and her austerely f.ashionahlc house in Ilairfair, described in Tho Old Gontury as "chilly", "sombre" and "eppressive" (l), Aunt Rachel was almost as remote as any of Sassoon'r paternal relations The O?horncycroft f"jnily i:as more familiar to the youn;: Siojjfried. Descendants fron aiicthcr old f'^jnily, his nearest 'relatives purcuoe. gu^'''^ erafts as ship-building' and sculpturcj 3'et their traditions uoro firmly rooted in the Eii^li^h cou-itry-ido. It i7as in this tradition and the atmosphorc of Ed^rardian; middle- class complacency that Siegfried {jrc^y up, shcl-lr^rcd fron h'.rd'rhi;'^ ard e'-iotio:i lly L.rpar^d-nt " i" artistic mother.

His parents' narriaje T^as not a happy o?,'io^^ ho TTTI'^'^" i--' Tho Old Conturyt- V\vS t-"^ v^,

Hr.d I "boon loess f".nciful .'^.nd iTritinj my OTm story, I Fhould hr.vc 'bGCu.n c.s folloTTs. 'Once upon tine there ''^c.s z hoy irho irr.s horn in Soptcnhcr 1886 r,t n. hotiso in Kent TThoro ho hcs lived ever since.'He ho.d tiro hrothcrs irho ircrc horn in I884 a^nd 1887, bat >Tc 0.11 hch?,vod r.s if vc ucrc the Sane r.gc • After I89I TTC did not see our father very often. Our mother iras unhappy hccausc he had gone away to live in London and Tjould not speak to her r.ny norc. (2)

Bouts of illness in childhood heightened Sa.PE'oon's aesthetic response to his surroundings until ho believed, obovc all else, that he had the gifts of a poot.' In this belief and its conrnnucnt cjnbition he was supported by his nothdr irho "had a strong natornal feeling that I was destined to bcconc great poot."(3) ' - . In The Old Century, Sassoon describes her gentln cncouragcncnt of his youthful aspiration end the dovclopnent of his juvenile pocns:

My oim poetical works... were beconing noticeably aloof from ordinary affairs. Ifhile remaining an optinist outwardly, I was a nost nnlancholy person when putting nysclf on paper. Eternity and the O'^onb were anong ny favourite thenes, and fron the accessories of death I drctr ny liveliest inspirations. Apart fron Posterity, the audience I add-ressed was ny nether, and I didn't want to disappoint her by being insipid and uninaginativc. (4)

Hone was a havon for Sassoon as a child, whore he grcT: up able to indulge his poetic sensibilities. Schooling at Marlborough followed, and then Cambridge which he left Trithout hxl^'^^G. d a degree, finding the acadenic discipline of Law and then History arduous and unrelated to his over-riding interest in poetry. It was during his stay c.t university that Sassoon first sought a printer. His cr.rlBstE publications, printed in various copies of the nagazino Cricketwere nainly parodies of fanous pocns of which the thenes were rcpfclced by topical cricketing issues Such r,s the extra inch added to the stLiripg in I903, A schoolboy parody of Kingsley's Saiids of Doe that was printed in Seven More Years, begins;

0 batsnan go and stop the rot. (5)

At Grxibridge he Tnrotc several fa,cotioLis pieces of doggerel on various subjccts,including "lovers allitoratively involved in a motor- accident, " (6) for incltision in the Cambridge nag".3ino, Grant a.. 'i-hc first publication of Bassoon's poems was in the form of a private printing by the Athenaeum Press in I906 which inaugurated 0. series of' similar printings during tho years that follo-':ed. In 1908, OrphcLis in Dilocrj^'un, An Episode was printed. It is described in The .Weald of Yoiith as "gn unactable one act play which had r.^B: quite nade Lip its mind TThethcr to bo Fa,tirical or cerioun." (?) This was followed in I9O9 by Sonnets and Versos, a nor'^ anhitiour voltine containing t]iirty-fotir -oocns. Throe of the thirty-oi^^^t ccoics isiiisi^^^ T7'"•??'• "r''/'-^'^nel'''' '^ri"i"cc' on hand—nadc 'napcr ^rhich later caused them to be preserved as the only record of thir printing when Sassoon destroyed the rest in a fit of despair. Of the poems Saesoon decided to presefve in later publications and in his Collected Peons, the earliest sonnet is Villon from Sonnets and Verses. This poem had already been printed inT.IT.H. Cro£fla,nd-'s magazine Tho Acad.emy in May, I9O9 (nodcstly signed 'S.S.'). Sassoon'n meetings T:ith the sly old reactionary, Crosland, were his first encounters with the literary irorld (for he had not pursued his family's aquaintanco with Edmund Gossc (8)) and arc amusingly recounted in The Weald, of Youth. (9) Crosland, as dijcd in the irool concornin/j poetry as TTonon's sujffrascj praised Bassoon's oarly poems for their "melodious refinement." Sassoon quotes a typical verse as an autobio^'rraphical closss

Blind from, the i2Pblin-haiintcd ;::looms of nicht. Passion irith poisonous blossoms in her hair; Then, croimod v±th. rotted chaplctsj TTan Despairj And Folly, from base deeds in headlong flight... (lO)

The poem Villon was subsequently published by tho author in

Sonnets, 19095 TITQIVO Sonnets, 1911- and The Old Huntsman, 191?. It is the sole survivor from among the eighteen sonnets Of So?.inetr and Versos, which rather suggests its siiperiority to thom. Villon, the poet, is ejected from, prison in a condition drrcribcd by the author as "rathor more doi-m and out than usual." (ll) He is rescued and cherished by one 'i-rho docs not feel the general disgust at the mctched man's appearance. The incident prcstinably relates to Villon's banishment (for ton years) after torture by t'"-c Parlcment, 14^? at which point he disappears from history. The thom.o of Sa^ssoon's peon rerenbles that of the parable of the Good Samari-^an. Villon is even rejected by Lr.zarus ti'ho

In noisome rags arrayed and leprous shame, Beside me set had seemed full si^oct and fair, And looked on mo with loathing. (l2)

The voice of Villon, the first person of the poem, i'^ evidently'- issuing from the a^*yjc"hostel" to which he had been talten. The dignity and modulation of the linos and tho economy of the dcscri'^.+ : of' Villon's two co'secutivc st-i.tes (af+nr his ejection from th- dungeon) form tho two parts of the sonnet and support the inf^rr;nce that, by tho agency of tho anonymous "Samaritan", hi- future is to bo T'--'g'---nnr^ti"'"^ -^-Kij- hopefuls

' •/ The mortal stain of ny reputed sin. My state despised, and ny defiled TTccds, He hath put by as though they had not been.

Of the other two survivors of S_ojanct_r aiid Verjpcs, the poem Arcady U;Thje_cdl_;ig ir one of the poomp- singled out for prai-e by Edward , the editor of the scries of anthelogicr entitled Qeorgirjn Poetry. In 1913, in a letter to Sassoon criticising his poems, (iSj^ Marsh gave some sound ad.vice:

It seem-s a necessity noTr to iTrito either with one's eye on an object or with one's mind at grips with a • norc or less definite idea, "^.uite a slight one irill suffice. Trice sone- czrjiples from yoLir work: "Jlorninj^j Laiid means that old Euiglish songs arc like the daTm - xlrcady Unlieeding that country folk don't pay attention to the beaLities of natLirc - and Drj^As that the open coxmtry gets light earlier than the woods. (14)

Marsh's rcnark on Arc?.dy U:Tl-iceding is really adequate connentf the poem is a simple idea st.ated in sim.plc terns. Its T'c^-.taie'^s lirr in the fact that the shepherds are an essential part of an;' concept of Arcadia.

One watches weather-sigas of day. One of his maid most dear DroojTis.

This pair is the aged rustic and the young STrain Tjho are as necessrjy to the pastoral scone as tho birds, blossoms and the "wide TToalds of bluo bcj^ond their irindy lea." It ir the observer who is out of place. The pocn fails because it nr^lzr.^ a false distinction between "country folk"who "don't pay any attention to the beauties of nature" and the fact that such people are :an organic part of the idea of Arcadia. „ „ ^ - criticism , destroyed all the bas.'^oon, in a fit of self-^; Cr--nies 6 of ^onnetg and. Versos except the three "which were nicely bound and printed on good paper." (15) However, most of the roniiets, with emendations, survived to be printed shortly after in Sonne_t_s, 190?; and som.e appoa.^. in '^'c0.jo Sonnets, I9II5 frcm T'hich t::o no:: po':~m'' w^re to app'^.-r in I'/'^r "ditions, On'~ ^•'"r'^i''.'"?r, Before Da^j ""'^ich has been praised by several critics, reads as a rather un'^ucco'^sful .attempt by Sassoon to unify t.ho pose-, of the •noet as solitary vith

his doubts about his power to express the 'signif ic"jice of the countryside p,t dawn:

For I am lone, a dweller among men Hungered for what ny heart shall never sa;--.

Goblin Rovel is a better poem, although no attempt is made to embrace such an exalted theme as is to bo found in Before Day. Edward Marsh rightly considorod it to be Sassoon's best son--".et. (l6) The octave is built roimd the two related uses of the word "revel." The goblins' colebr.ation is in the form of a"revol" or dance; they also "revel" in the proceedings. The first moaning of the word suggests the contorted movement of the g-oblins while the second meaning suggests their facial expressions and wicked delight in their f OTrn behaviour. The grotessuenoss of the creatures is carefully built up by these separate but involved actions. T-Jith "fleering loo]c'=' of sin" spreading over their fco,tures

.... Ifith loutings they begin Their woven measure, widening fron the door.

Marsh fovmd the dance of the goblins "exactly like tho dance of the grotesq.uos in the Russian ballet, Oisoau do Feu. " (16) The sextet of the sonnet describes the goblins at brcrk of day, clambering back into the "dusky moon." The explicitnoss of Sassoon'" description of their habitat tends to undermine the impression of a slyljr or partljr observed scone* l^'zr3^3yss^.''^!sir:f&^^ Furthermore, archaisms -^uch as "haply" and "shoon" arc here 7. obtrusive since they are j-uxtaposed trith henely and natter of f.act observations:

...silent go their shoon On creaklcss stairs; but far away the dogs Bark at some lonely farms and haply they Have clejiberod back into tho dusky noon.

As there wore no such observations in the first ei"ht lines, arch-^.isn: such as "tirirling antic" becrxie pr.rt of the unreality of tho rcenr^. It nay be that a reference to farn dogs iras intended to intrude, ruic>_ in the way that tho daylight intrvidcs into the goblin-' dancing, hut the reason why

They pause, and hushed to whispers, steal aTray

is not explained. Five more of the -ooens that Sassoon incluc"jcd in ^h^_01d Huntsm-n, the first rp-'>iln" + i.en of his pobnr by H-mcman, *«. in Pocns, I9II, and n_eJ.p_dic,s, 1912. Of these, rone ~ pcjx)be:: bring the nost striking ox'-nple - are almost moaninglosSj relying on Sassoon's cha.r,act oris tic ncllifluity to create a mood akin to •!"'•. .t of mvisic. In n.any of his early peons, Sa"soon intended to ere-,te th^ harnonies e.nd enotional inpact of music. Thi^ tended to leave pocm.^ overweighted with words and intellectually unstimulating. T]ie_JIcrjLJ;r^go avoids this temptation: it is based on '"he ideas that witliout a concept of Dop,th, any discussion of Life is r;;duccd •' to a ncro series of existential st,-.tencnts (m,—'^-t.--^r^' "hy "n-ld • ph 110sephib"j and that mutability gives signicance to living*

... and most in change the hum-^.n heart c".n trace

The miracle of life and h-.i-aan things.

I'Tight-Fiece is also worthy of attention. ''•Tcll-handlcd

structurally, this pocn is a drc-jn fantasy concerning the IC^C-T

creatures of myth and stipcrstition - witclios, dryads and a f.aun. It is gently evocative and begins irith a contrast between the "hooded witches" who are active in total darkness a:id tho milder nature of the dryads >and the f.atin who belong to the hap"oicr realms associated with nightr moonlight and sleep. Those .arc described in the remainder of the poem. F.ost of the poems in M/poj7;ojriqs_, 1915, and Iloriiiiw^ ^lor^', 191^, are reprinted in Th_o_ Huntm^^ Tho thirteen poem'^ of Dir-cqvorier^ display .all the virtues and vices of .Sassoon's carl;'- wo.rk. 'i?od"^ inflates the id.cas of The Heritage .and com.mcnts more fully on the joys of the present, or "chp.ngc." Tho poem expresses the continuity of night and day in terms of simple human relation-^hipdr

This is Today, a child in white and blue Running to moot mo ou.t of night who f-'tillod The ghost of Yestor-eve; this is fair Horn TJtc mother of To-morrow.

This permanently continuing change !-.nd renewal is contra''"'od^by impliciation, with tho clouds whose is a "drifting stai-'e." -i-hey are "thoughts" that co.n discern-the possibility of Ic^s contai-icd in the sweet ^apprccia-ion of tho sur.round.ings, the fragility of

Thif bubble of vistaod memory and sen"c Blown by ny joy aloft....

"Tomorrow niglit bring death" but unlikc/^j^'Shje J5cri;i_"^c^ this is not tho ciilmination of the poem. In an vipsurgc of joy, the poet T^i-hc^ to embrace the shift and change of the universe which, in a Shol]^an "^ense, is the significance of Lifc^

Let me stp.nd within The circle of your transience, that r.y voice May thrill tho lonely silencer with -eng.

• Wonderment, following 'P6aay in Discoveries, modifies the inprcsion -of an ecstatic, rather uncontrollable re-^ponse to as:pec(ps of nature. The clouds and the breeze renain, but the first person ha" become tho third; the point of the pocn is thu" distanced, le-r- ocr-tatic. ''-he nonent of ecstasy in '.nday corrc'^T^ond'": to :•, "'i-i"''-"" f ecli:^g in Wonder:lent'? hetrcvor

Li]--e a flu"h of wings Tho moment paf'sed': he --tood Danzlcd Trith blosson^ in the s^'Tayir-'^g "ood; Then he renembercd how through all swift things. This mortal f'cene stands biiilt of nenorie.'-.

Sin.ilar rentin-ents appear in Wisdom, although here th";' are more slightly handled. The-^e are not great thoughts but a re-^ponse, sincorcly expresscd^i^ejh enphasises the solitariness of rh"-^ re-pon-^

The world's my ship and I'm alone on deckl

Storm ejid Sunlight expresses Sas^oon'r rer^ponrto to +he m"nifestation'^ of weather contained in the title. A^ in 'Jfi.^doHs Sa'^soo;-* haf put aside pagan figure^! in favour of an unspecified "God." The '^torm rBcduccs hun.rjilcind to "close huddling men" and remind"" then of the "gaze of God." The countr^rsido after the storm is apocalj'ptic, a revelation of the "might" of a benCficont deity and tho "benediction" that men share with the whole of creation. These "huddling men" are exhorted to Lift your blind faces to be filled Trith day, i:Iiich further demonrtratos Sassoon'^ anti-philosophical approach alroad;"- exejnincd in Tho Heritage. As in previously di'"cu"sed poen^j the appreciation of nature purely through the sensof' is linJnod Trith tho solitariness of the poot. In the peon Aloric, ho ha"^ "listened" and "looked" but still yearns for the "food" and "light" of the heart. Although he admits to having "thought" he is conTcious of tho insufficiency of this process; 10.

.. .Hear me say 'I've thought' - and darkness hides my day.

I In Uimrod i.n Sept ember and 2[oah catch glLmp^os of the directioii in which Sa^soon'?- poetry was to develop. In I'Timrod in September, he handles archaiTms - "a-bed", "jollity of horn and lu'-ty cheer", "dwindling rout" - deliberately^ and tho :~cene assiimes something of the texture of a hunting print. The joy and a.nimal a,ctivity of "Young I'Timrod" are contrasted, irith the "dro-^ry Tjorld";' his "huge clsjnour" reverberates in the "sultr;'- bra.kcs." ,iIyiil°A _Sojgt_cmber_ is briof, clear and to the point. In ho ah, biblical subject-matter is treated lightly; DToah is tho trad.itional jolly fi;7ire .andtis natural exuboranco is ironically jiu:taposed with what ought to be a great and. solemn occasion'

Earth was ' aved; and Hor^Ji danced a jig.

In Mo_rning_ Glory, four of the eleven poem." belong to the Tjair , and- 0X0 printed- a" rv.oh in '-ho. OW-„Hu:'vt;'~maJi. Of --he ot]^.rr p^em.", t>« \ J2- o c langLia,go and tone of Blind, resemble" tha": of Villon. ''?he ,"fflic nan St.arlcrs and old and blind, a sight for pitj"-, TTith feeble rtor>r and fingers on the Trail, Groper- with "taff along the rum.bling city.

Morning Glory, the title poem, is a rather "-'ock nativity --irce thai" occasion.ally resemble" .a bad carols

Loud tho happy child-ren euire To the golden windowed morn.

The "tiny" Christ is adored by shepherds and "grecn-smock"d cMldrr^n." His tornont is nonetheless entailed i^i hi" birth and ho "ric"p- below the crimson thorn." 11.

A Child's Prayer, Dream-Forest and ®ic_Po_plar "nd th.c _I-ioon are slight piocos. Ancestors is more successful. Sassoon's ancc-tors, the Sephardic Persian-Jewish nerchaiits, are seen here as possessed with the stature and dignity of elders, bartering "monstrous wealth with speech subdued"; but their tran'-actions are tinged with a pervading sadiiess. They arc "Foregathered in some chancellery of death"; their eyes are"lustrclcss" irith • "aquiescent lids". The song of mourning linis then with the Sultan, T:ho, in the second stanza, hears this

frail music -;;ind along t.he -^lopes

Put forth and fade across the irhispering rea.

The poem is su.btly TTrought; the Sultan ;uid the ancestor<" .are not only liioL-ced by the sdng but also by the gexde;!?- Trhich contain "night's/Hushed sweep of wind" for the merch.ants_^.and for the Sultan the "sweet influence" of. "rononbered flc-^or"." '"'"'he -cene is

sensuOLisly evoked in carefully nodulated languags, yo"- there ir a perpetual sense of disparity beWTcen the "joTrclled, ncrchant

ancestors," Tihose business is undertaken in the "chancellery of death", and the Siiltan in his "glimnoring palace." He i"' a

"shadow at the window, turbaned, vast," whose ftinction reside- in his position, irho ha^ tho leisure to "lean" and "ponder", lyhoso listening is not confined, as i-- the n or chant s' to "pau-^e" in their conferonce."

* *

In 1913, Sassoon Tnrote a burlesque of Ha^cfiold''" long poen. The Everlasting Mercy. Written in briskly noving octosyllabic couplets, The Bvorlasting Mercy tolls the story, in hi'^ o-;m word"", of a brutal drunlcen poacher whoso reform is ultinatclj'- accor.plishod by a Quaker wonan. Setting out to anuse himself lij "scribbling a feir pages of parody" (17), Sassoon foundithat he bocr-nc considerabl 12. involved with the siibjects

Having rap'idly resolved -to impersonate a Bu-^scx farm-hand awn,iting a, trial for accidental hom.icidc of the barman of the village ale-house, I beg^,n his story in tho crudest imitation of Hasefield's m.anncr... After the first fifty lines or so I dropped tho pretence that I was improvising an exuiberant skit. T-Jhilo continuing to burlesouc Ka"ofield for all that I TTas wath, I war really feeling what I TTrotc. (17)

Entitled. The Daffodil Murderer, the result cannot pronrly n^n"idr??'-a ••" --^-+"--->-• -r^-^xoC."- noncthclc"" it is .a definite success, ife^. virttics lio in the "new pa,ir of pontic leg"" that M.ascfield "gracioLi"ly" (18) presented to the young poet. Sassoon had at last TTitten something modern oven though it ir," derive.tivc. On February 10th, 1914j Sassoon found himself "the anon^'moLir- author of a sixpenny pamphlet in a cheerful orange coloured •'Trapper" (19)5 prefaced facetiously by "llillir-m Butler" and publi'^hed by "John Richmond, Ltd," both pseudonyms of Grc^land ^"ho roomed anzioLi'^ to promote the poem merely ar a burlessuo on I.Ia"cfield. Tho only contemporary review, appearing in The Athonafeyt, stated that The only conclusion wc^obtain fron its perusal is that it is easy to Trrito Trorse ihc-zi Ilr. Ilasofiold. (20)

It is apparent that enmity oxi^'ted between Cro"land and -'^^ Athonswo and that Cropland had lot it be known that tho author"hip of tho poen vex- his own (it irar assigned to "Saul Kain"). Con"Ciuentl;' the reviewer in The Athenaeum had, as Sa^^soon put it, "welcor.cd the opportunity of landing him one on the jair." (2l)

The Daffodil Murderer is u-ndotibtodly a good piece of wor]:.

It ha" been prai"ed by various critics, including Michael Thorpe (^^s

T^ho has described, it as "Sa"roon's m.ost promising Pro-Trar poem. "(22) 13 . In orader to s^ibstantiato this claim one needs to discern qiialities in the work that are not Masefield's. More promising in Sassoon's early work is hi- ability to .accompli^'h the task he had undertaken. The nore "uccessful of his early poems •"hare with Tlie Daffodil Murdorpr o^ualitie-- of arrangenent and conpletion that wore to bo fully utilised in his poetic maturity.

The impact of ''?_hc Ever la-ting Mercy lies in the force and directness of the verse which impel'- the ''•tory; to its public it seemed realistic and dccring. The passages in which Poacher Kane runs naked through the toi-m and ring- the fire bell arc exhilarating; his grudge against the Squirearchy i- tolling. It is in the contrast between the tTfO Kancs dc-cribod in the wor)c, tho dcnonic poacher and tho rofornod God-fearing nan, that t?^.e wesJmess of the poen lies; the latter is ins\ifficicntljr entailed in the forner. This is not to say that like Blake'f" Hilton, Mascfiold is "of the Devil's party without Icnowing it." (23) Narrating his OTm talc, the rofornod Kane inserts -hort "^.assagcs of noaly-nouthod noralisings

0 young non, prs.y to be kept whole Fron bringing do^ni a wcalccr soul. Your minute'- joy so moot in doin' Hay be tho woman'^ door to ruin... (24)

Such na^sagcs arc mr,dr to.suffice for the seeds of reform that should be present in the ch.aractor of the old, bad Kane, who is shancd from tine to time only by arguments more glib th-n his o:m. Kane has a genuine grievance which is counted for little in the total pocn. Wlien he accepts the genuine and morcifiil doctrines of the :>usicer, one feels that he has also sold out to the S-uire an;;',

the Preacher.- The-aanc of "Albert Meddle" (Sassoon'- here) docs not

• suggest the archetypal reformed -i-irongdocr conjured up by the

ncjno "Saul Kane." Rotting in jail, Meddle contcmpl.atc- hi- fate;

nis change of heart is not so mi a volte face as an im-iroving 't ability to understand his fornor wca]cncsses. In this way Albert Meddle is pcrh.apr moro convii:icing a" a man tha; Saul Kane; his evil is never total and the possibility of ropen-':ance i" alway" present. l-Thon ho docs repcn"^ his grievances arc not forgotten-

I've done a crazy d-cod of shs,mo And. never thought to 'scape the blpzie; But shifty lat^yer rob" his lord. Then tskos a ship and bolts s.broad; Cheating broker makes hi" pile. And then sots up to live in style. (2^)

Kane is concerned, only irith himselfr. Meddle sps,res pity for .his

wife:

Like a good. ga,l sho'll nalco sm.all f^iss; I'll htig her once and gi''er a buss; Because her .man she mun be leaving, Hor ms.n as isn't worth the grieving.

Albert Meddle's rcp.orsG and changed attitiide m.ore co.nvincing thaji Saul Kane's "pectacular conversion. It was probably thi" comparisdn that load Professor do Sola Pinto to claim that

The jDaffodil Murderer_ is not only a remarkably clever imitation of Mascfield'" "tylo, hut a r.oving and origins.l poen, ruporior in r-omo trays to fl.asef icld'". It i" significant, too, because it rhows that oven before the trar Sassoon had a sense of The hollo-nio"r of the gentlemanly ps,rad.i"e in which he "pent his youth, and a deep xruizr; s^'mpathy for tho common man who wa^ excluded from! •'•h?,t parad.isc. (26)

Saul K"nc'E final convcr'i""^ ^•'rhich or^r.---.- "f-:-r^-r " 'br^wt nf

drin!<;ing, has the unconvincing ring of Alec D'UrbervillcS:' in

Toss of tho D'Urborvillos . In Hard.y's novel, D'Urbervillc'" convcrrion ic ar cr.'^il;^'' iTrccJccd^ it vcr und^.Tt-h^ir.. By anpJo,<^5 Kane'?: clro lonc^ conviction. Although Sr.'^soon doc: not claim that hir oirn "yokel ij?.s undcA^'iatingly truo to life," (l?) ho doe2 clain that rho poem hcar^- relation to reality;

my narrative did at any rate express that rural Suf^Gex which I had ahr-orhcd through following; the Southdoim Hotindra a.nd arcoci.ating with ruppottcrc of the haint. (2?)

I'ho htmt provided Saosoon "fyith another topic for a monologue; that of an p^gcLng huntrman who, having ^Toim old and r.qiiandcred his gratuity, han fallen on hard tines. The poem deal?:, with the old man'c attcpts to reconcile the eafiy-going hedoniPm of his former life and profession, retained tonaciourly and in the face of professional advice, with the Ghri^^tian ethic he i-: trying to emhracc. ^is thought-: go back to "The man I Trac when hunting vrith the Squire" before he made the disartrffluf "nevon year" barga.in for the Golden Fleece." This bargain ruined hin and repAdced hir "wife of thirty years who served me well" with a "bcldn.n clattering in the kitchen." Ho cits and Meditates while waiting for thir "old harridan"to bring the lamp, in an latmocphcrc conducive to melancholy. He derirer the company of the Souirc, T*-0, if he TJorc able, would ... come For sure, and sit and talk and ruck hir: briar...

This desired visitor ic in fact re'ol?.ced by the pardon who TJill drop in "once in a way." The contrasting circum'^tance'^ of the huntsmn,n introduce a lengthy r^cquence in which the old nan ponder? on life and cxpro'-f'cr his notions of religion confu'-edly, in term-:' of the hunt. T-Jhon in his prime he ncvnr took hoed of the scrip-tnirc;

Religion beats me. I'm amazed at folk 16

Driiikinc "'ho i^oepeli^ in "nd never rcrctchin/;^ Their heed" for ouc^tionr...

... I'd no chpjioc TJhcn younc: ?.nd. to got the hc-Mg of nil Thic Hell r.nd Heo.vcn; end T-^hcn clcrf^ hoic]c And holler, fron their piilpitc, I'n colecp, Hoirovor ha.rd I listen.

He follows with his own private virion of Hell rherc rJl the foy.or arc non-'^^tarters, whore there ic "r,n iron-rpikcd fence ±ound ",11 the covor.'ists" -nd "Hell wr.s the coldort •ccn"-"in,'^ l"-nd I've knoirn." Gonvorgoly, (;ood hunting' country ir hio idea of Ecr-vcn: he drcr-nr how hr.ppy he would he

If there ircre houndf^ in Heaven With God nr narter takinc no cuh-cription.

Similarly, he convcrtr the roli-^iou'- hierarchy into f-^rniliar 'ern"-

I've come to thinlc of God z'z ^onethinj li)ce The figure of a nan the old Duke irac

The huntrman'c rodonption rcr:tr; in the do^jrco of ^^olf-lcnowlcdcr; he attains hy the ra'hcr duhiour' ncans of relatin/;^ God and religion to hi- '-portinc life. Ho know: tha ho ha>: not ::ivc:i up enough time to reflection: ... Tov I knoi7

It'e God that cpoakc to u- when we're bewitched

Smelling the hay in June...

He know- that he rcnained ineular, only pro-tl;-- alive, for all hir vigoLir in the cha""e:

... I never hrokc Out of ny hlundcring relf into the irarld^^ But lot it all go part no, like a nan Half arleop in a land that's full of warr.

The Old Hunt;-nan is a convincing poon on a n^hject near to Sassoon's heart. It was written well after the outhreak of war and indicate^ a nexr attitude in Sa'^soon who was perhaps brealcing out of che fetter- of nineteenth-century pootici^n into a now a'i'Taronoss of the world and men.'

Footnotes to Chapter One

Thd Old Century and Seven More Years (Faher & Faher, London, 1938)

p. 81.

2) IMd.. pp. 14-15.

3) ibid. p. 142.

4) ibid. p. 147.

5) ibid. p. 228.

6) ibid. p. 253.

7) The Keald of Youth (Faber & Faber, London, 1942) p.15.

8) The eminent Victoriaja literary critic, Edmund Gosse, was an old friend of Sassoon's tmcle, Hamo Thorneycroft, at whose suggestion Sassoon sent a copy of Orpheus in Diloeryum to Gosse. Gosse- praised this rather iramatiire work in a letter to Sassoon and Sassoon visited him at the House of Lords some years later; but, as Sassoon put it, "Mr. Gosse was far too busy and famoioB to have time for giving more than fleeting encoiaragement to any but the most promising poets". (Weald of Youthj p. 102.) Nonetheless, having read The Daffodil Murderer (see note 25)> Edmxind Gosse put Sassoon in touch with Edward Marsh who was to be of considerable use to Sassoon in his career as a poet. Marsh was editor of Georgian Poetry from its inauguration in 1912 xintil 1922.

9) see especially pp. 126-137 & 184-190.

10) Weald of Youth p. I4.

11) ibid. p. 14.

12.) Unless otherwise stated, all quotations from Sassoon's poems are taken from Collected Poems I9O8-I956 (Paber & Faber, London, I96I)

13) see note 8.

14) Weald of Youth p. 138

15) i3aidx!DC|ix inscription on fly-leaf of surviving copy.

16) Weald of Youth p.139.

17) ibid. p. 124.

18) ibid. p. 126.

19) ibid. p. 130.

20) ibid. p. 136.

21) ibid. p. 137-

22.) Siegfried Sassoon; A Critical Study (O.U.P., Leiden & Oxford,

1966) p. 9. 23) The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, Poetry and Prose of William Blake (Nonesuch, London, 1927) p. 182.

24) The Everlasting Mercy (Sidgjfick & Jackson, London, I9II) p.24.

25) The Daffodil Murderer (John Richmond, London, 1913) reprinted in Michael Thorpe's Siegfried Sassoon; A Critical Study p.275. All quotations from The Daffodil Murderer are taken from the latter edition.

26) Crisis in English Poetry (Hutchinson, London, 1935) p.143.

27) Weald of Youth p.125- Cha'oetcr TTTO

WAR FOmS; 1^l^/lSlJ.

Whether one regards the outbreak of the Pir^t World W"r or. August 3rd 1914 c.^ "the outcome of profouneil and' inevitabl-- force or as the rcrtilt of a number of unfortunate accident^', there "ccnr- little doubt .about the cnthuniarn of all participr:itr. It would be a war of great battles nobly fou;ght on alien territory in defence of one'c otm, in which victory,not only over one'" adversary but over trar itself could be achieved by C.hri^-'-.ia^, 1?14' yhe British were particularly convi:accd of this, "he ".:ar begun in defence of "little Belgium" would be a "tra.r to end all warr." (l) After the rapid advance of the Gorman amy into France h".d been checked, the war itself rrottled do-;Tn to four jrear'^ of d-adloc]':. TheSf enthur'iasm of "he Britirh for the T'ar too.k lo'S tine tQ aba'c.

This early enthuria.en, IcnoTjn ar "the spirit of 1914"5 '""^ reflected by poctr; indeed, in the history of Snglirh Litoratur'^, few poetf: have spoken again':t war. The tradition of ':ar poetrj'' at the beginning of the twentieth century depended on ver^e Trritten by poets who, n-hether they approved of warfare or not, had little or no experience of iran itrelf; and Hardy had not fought at Waterloo nor Tennyson the Crimea. Perhapr oi-^ly -'-'^rr Elizabethan and J;:cohean plp,2iTrigh"""r3 '^ha'co^pcarc :icTahle r^^^'^ng then, h'" '"-'•'e nern -'^ -"y Lindenr+-anding of the r^rTf crings of the connon jroldier and the pressure" he had to endure. J^cfore the declaration of war in 1914s .had cenpo-^d many poems baFcd on his imprc^sdon^ of- the connon roldier^ yety 11 iThen the war bcjanj his concern-^ wore not Trith individuals. Kipling's attitude to the outbreak of war is crrprersed in For All We Have and Are trhich wac published in T_ho I'lornin,"' Po^-t on Septonbcr 2nd 1914- As early as 1^02 he had prophesied the in^^a'-io?--. of En.f^land in The Irlrjidors;

Do ye wait for the spattered shrapnel ere yo learn hoir s, gun is Is.id? For the low, red gls.re to southirard .t7hon the raided coast-totm'^ burn? (2)

It is therefore hs.rdly surprising that he doe" not predict a glib victory in For Al_l_ ]^9_^2^JS^^3I^§--}^^^

But iron sacrifice Of body, will and soul. (3).

Kipling is at pains to distinguish between the honel",nd, in whic>. reside the gentler virtues, and the c'Lreadi'ul or.ony dstrr~.incd to destroy a civili'"o,tion near perfection;

Confort, content, delight, •"'-he ages' '"loir-bought gain, •i'hcy rhrivolled in s, night.

"The Hun is at the gate" and he is, for Kiplingj a "crazed and driven foo." By no nes-n^- the no-^t outspoken in its revLi.l'ion &#<^l- tho "foe",For All We Have and Are was praised for it' '--':ructurr "jnd. scntinonts. Kipling's pocns are frequently fa"'hioned -^r in-trunont'^ to serve a deliberate purpose and hi"- concern i'- to find a forn to fit then. In thi"" ca^e the desired unity of forn and "c.ntineiit is achieved. The peon is •^ober and •r'onorou" in tone and jznzaxtn certai'^ exaggerated techniques cnploycd by other poots are avoided, (A) J.I.M. Steirart said that Kipling'poen wa- "adnsus.te to its grave occasion." Other poems by representatives of the older generation of poets, appcrjed in jouwals and nnriodicale during the .months subsequent to the d^^claration of war. 'Calcen together, '^he^'- previcV overwhelming evidence of the failure of "hose poets to comprche.nd the nature of the Riropean struggle that they were "o eager to glorify^ seen in retrospect, none of their poems wa" "adequate to its grave occasion." Although these poems are largely denlorable as litoratuje, the ee:ntimonte expre':sed in hen reflect th-^ do."in.art, aggrerseive nood. of the m-ajority of the English people and provid'- a useful contrast to the development of attitude" crrjre'-sed by •"''.e younger generation of poets who had to fight in he ai-:1i:au5 conditions that wore to cone. Such .^-"'cts of the older .-enera' ion include Robert Bridges, Henry JTewbolt, William Wat'-on, Alfred Hoye<-j and Jolin Drinlcwater, all of whom published poems in ncirr-paporr to . celebrate the outbro,-lc of war. There may be caid to reprcecnt the general attitude of their generation expre'sed in literature. Thei'f' poems are Jingoietic and express values and opinion' which nc: rcem startling in their naiWcte". Host look to God for ^anc'rion ^ of the conflict, a:nd naturally enough, He is on the right r.idc. The United Front, Alfred JToyes ^ayr;

JTo::, in God'r name, •;re draw

The sirord.. ... (5)

T7hilc both Honjry iJoirbolt and Robert Bridges rerpoctivoly assert;

God defend the righti (6)

Kipling in hir Hymn Before jBat_tlc, invokes "Jchova^^ of the •"hund'-rr'.'

(7). The enemy i" informed by John Drintarater:

You trade in death, you mock at life, you throTr 0!'o God the tumult of your blasphemies..., 22. while Willisjn Watson in a missive to ^'Jho 'i?roubler of the I'lorld, tells hin:

We do not with God's nanc nal:c wanton play. We are not on such easy terns with Heaven. (9)

In a pamphlet of poems selected from nows.p.apors to represent the "free offering of Eiiglish. poets to the cau'^'c of Hation-.l Relief", "wanton play" is not nado with God's nanc no less that twenty-three times. (10)

It was not doubted that God stftoAs for England and that England staad? for Justice, Truth and Honour. Such attitude wero not confined to Tory patriots and the ropro-cntativcs of a privilege':"', older generation. Members of a largely ^inc':'tablishod younger generation of ''.E_, nany of whomif; wore to take part in the conflict, accepted them in^a version only slightly nodificd to 'niit their own req.u.irements. It is therefore worthwhile to enumerate "ome of the most important of these attitxides in orndcr to a-sess the appsjontly ajnazing change of hoo.rt tha^ overtook some of the yoiuig writers who endured the ordeals of the Sonne and Passchcndaclo: a change of heart that seems to hs.vc ovEEtsJten Sassoon in particular. As in For Jill Wc_ Hc^c_?^nd^ Aro_, the enemy is persi'^tently enuatod with the barbariani the Kaiser and Germany are variously described a'- "Caesar of the M^t" (ll), "Warlord" (12) and "Vrapire of Europe"^ (13); civilised Engls.nd, fresuentljr personified as a noblf;" croaturs, looks on aghast 5 "Wo willed it not I" They all aggno that England "ow.ld be the novt succcs-f-''.l ±-1 • ) ^ ii'igr.tj several po^ns con-'-ain e:^hort"tion'~ to England like Hauricr Hc-;rlet-|%;

Fight since thou must; strike cuick rnd fierce. (I4)

The conflict, so "imwillingly" engaged, involve^ -sv-^ral 'laradoxr-. For inr-tcance, the fighting is stricQiy in order to bring about peace and freedom. The concluding lines of Watson's To The Troublor of he Woria, illustrate the idea of fighting for peace, this being the l"st resort of- a guiltless country against a •'.'crazed and driven foe"? and tho3i, common equation in these poems of • peace'-with victory:

'•Our hands are pure; for peace, for pc^.ce we have

striven': And not by Earth shall he soon be forgiven >Jho lit the fire accurst that flames today.

Com.mon also is the paradox that the man who i-:- fondest of his life is best pleased to die in a good cause. Thus Robert Bridge in Wake up Enj2lriji_d3 infornr Britain?

Through Fire, Air and Water Thy trial must be; But they that love life best Die gladly for thee. (15)

England's "heritage" ir frequently invoked to denon'-trate her potential might. It is a significant m.easure of the unprepar-^dners of Engl'^.;''.d that Britirh poets should the :r.ar in t^rn'^ of xlrmada and the ^attle of Trafalgar. Th.ey depict Ziigland "S a eomitr; mightily trrongod, irrcaking vengeance on a sloilking and inferior- foe and backed to the hilt by such heroes as "Havrke, Howard, Gronville, Probisher, Drake". (l6) The failure of the poets to foresee the naht^'^^ war parallels the failure of the Generals to adjust their strategic theories to the conditions of trench warfare. Most of then thought that the offensive tactic would c?j?ry the daj"-. In fa-ct, the soldiers could move no :^s«~ss! faster than had the Romans conquering the Gaiils. Horses and cavalry irere useless on ground thick with m.ud and terrain broken up by artillery fire. On the other hand supplies and relief troops could be moved up to the front line by trains. Therefore if the in-fantry should, break the enemy's front line, the defenders could seal it off much faster than the victorious section could, consolidate its adva.nce. Should a section retreat, it did so along its o\m lines of communication. Therefore the groat battles on horseback, envisaged by the commanders and their poet apologists did not mp.terialiso. Wonetheless, all ra,nks were persistently inculcated with the "offensive spirit", particularly the use of the bayonet, which found such an a.rabivalent place in Sassoon's poen The Kiss. It is obviotis that the hard facts of nod'^rn warfare wore responsible for the attitude trlcon to it by its combatant poots. The final, widely supporfccd' idea, found in those poems, is ths,t England would be purged by battle and purified by blood. Suffering^ yot to-teg uirp'or4,caa^d« wg.s believed to absolve those combatants who had right on their side. Thus Bridges;

Much suffering shs.ll cleanse thcer But thou through the flood Shalt win to Salvation, To beauty through blood. (l?)

Laurence Binyon also states this;

Endure, 0 Earth 1 and thou awaken, Purged by this dreadful winnowing-fa,n, 0 wronged, untamcablc, imshaJcen Soul of' divinely suffering manJ (l8)

These are the ideas of an older generation of men vho did not enlist^ yet they arc idea,s not substantially different from tho-e held by their sons and grandsons. Rupert Brooke best typifies the attitude of the younger generation to the outbreak of the First World War. Ho cannot bo considdrod as a war poet since ho Tfrote only a handful of pocns on the subject, but he is valuable as an osanplc of what iras to bo glorified as the right-thinlcing jroung Sngli-h hero, murdered by the Hun. In 1914, at the age of tirenty-soven, Brooke had already esta.blished himself as a public figure. His physical beauty, athletic prowess, and to a lessor extent, his intellect had distinguished his schoolboy days at Rugby and his u:idergraduate co-reer at Cambridge. As Sassoon put it, .after his single meeting with Brooke;

Here I might well have thought - had my divinr/fcions been expressible - Tras a being singled out for some transplendent performance, some enshrined achievement. (I9)

In 1915? Brooke took part in the Gallipoli landings and later net his death on Scyros having apparently been stung by a scorpion. In December 1914? group ©f "War Sonnets" had appeared in the final edition of a magazine called Hew Numbers. It was not until after his death "on active service" that partic^llar attention was paid to them. Winston Churchill quoted them in a:a obituary: Dean Inge quoted them in his Easter sermon in St. Paul''' Cathec^jral. Brooke's collection of po^ms, 1^14 r.nd Other Poemr subsequently went through nine inprersionr until the group of five "1914" sonnets were printed in pamphlet form, .entitled I914? Five Sonjiets by Rupert Brooke. This pamphlet edition sold twenty thousand copies.

These sonnets embody many of the attitudes I have observed in poems by the older genero.tion of established writers. In Peace, Brooke sees war as a,n ennobling process th3,t would clean and absolve youth from its neurotic preoccupations and, by the agency of- s-uffering, bring about true peace: Brooke thanks God who has made "us" Leave the rick hearts that honour could not move, And half-men, and their dirty songs and drep_ry. And all the little emptiness of love!

Oh I we, who have knorn shame, we have fotmd release there, T-Ihere there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending, Waught broken save this body, lost but breath; . Hothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there But only agony, and that has ending; And the. worst friend and enemy is but death. • I In his analysis of these? sonnets,- Bernard Bergonzi has claimed that "one very pressing difficulty.. . is that elenents that can be called representative, expressing currents of popular feeling, are closely interwoven with others which are purely personal to Brooke himself." (21)) HQ singles out the line -"All the little emptiness of love" and takes it to refor to Brooke's'"long and gruelling affair with'Ka'". It is also possible to road such lines in the spirit of .al a.rdour expressed in other partrs of the poem. If wjr i" to be a cleansing and purifying process:, s. view shared bjr many in 1914j including Sassoon, then there must necessarily be something to iss±Ei: wash airay. Therefore -the specific instances that Broolio gives to illustrate his contention that tho world has groim "old and cold and woary^, nay be read in the tone of high moral indigns-tion of the rest of tho sonnet. There is loss concern in Brooke's sonnets T:ith pa-t British gloriesf the emphasis is on England in the present, recalling the nostsjgia of' The Great Lover and ^C'B^^^^jtP^.\ "^-^^ rhetorical re-iteration of the words "England" and"English" in Brooke'" r-onaicts is the eq.uivalent of' tho visK-r that all virtues resid- in England, and Brooke's hypothesis is that England has boconc .'yreat agr.ins

Blow, bugles, blowJ They brought us for our dearth, Holiness lacked so long, and Love, Land Pain. Honour has cone back, as a king, to earth. And paid his subjects with a roys.l w,age; And nobleness walks in our ways again; And we have cone into our heritage.

In Tho Soldier, Brooke identifies the poet's body with the soil of England; his heart becomes "A pulse in the eternal nind." (This mystical Pinion of the dead with the living occurs in Sarsoon's early war poetry, most notably in The Last I-Icotiiig and The Brother). The paradox that links life and death is particularly ''•trong in Bi-ookc; thus in Safety; Safe shall be ny going, Secretly armed against all death's endeavour;: Safe though all rrfety's lost; safe where men fall; And if these poor linbs die, safest of all.

Most critics are agreed th„t Sarsoon's pocn, Absolutioji is the one most imitative of Brooke's sonnets. It has been described as a "banner-bearing poen" which "nay be classed as a descendant from Rupert Brooke's little family of I914 sonnets"-^and "an exercise in the Brookian mode". (23) 'T^his is partially true. Absolution,Trrittcn in three, four-line stanzas, is technically inferior to Brooke'-^ sonnets; only in tone and sentiment ir it identicals

The an5;uish of the earth absolves our eyes/ Till beauty shiner in all things we can '-ee. War is our rcoiirge; j'-et war has made tis wise. And, fighting for our freedom, we are free.

All the stack attitudes that I have enumerated are to be found here'; the sense of purification, nobility of purpose, the :^rs^4*x of -^he free 'nan figiiting for freedom. But these sentiments are not crr-.andod into concrete example as they are in Brooke's sonnet'-. Sa'-soon tolls us that Absolution ^subrequontly found favour with cer^;ain '-!id'''.le- aged revioTrers^ but it ir a lessor poem than any of Brooke's sonnets from which it is d.erivod. However, this poen ha*- nothing of what Bergonai, in an attack on Brooke's sonnets, .call" "the -elf- regarding element" (24) woven into the general statement of noble purpose. But Sassoon him'^elf observes the real weeiaicr-s of thir po em: The significance of my too nobly word-cd lines vcf that they expressed the tjT^ical self-glorjrfying feelings of a. young man about to go to the Front for the first time... but the more I saw of war the less: noble-mind.cd I felt about it. (25)

In other words, Abs_o_lu_tio_n ±z not really about the war that made itself Icnown to Sassoon. For this reason, it and poems like it, wore not included in Sassoon's retrospective collection. War Poems, (p-i) published in 1919'' Even if- this poem is read as an attempt to examine the state of nind of a young soldier in the first stages of war experience, it presents only noble abstractions, tho idcs.s with which the "soldier poet" maintains his morale. On this level it is inferior to tho similar poom by Laurence Binyon, The Fourth of August;

How in thy splendour go before us, Spirit ofEnglcand, s.rdent-eyed.' Enkindle this dear ea-rtb. that bore us. In the hour of peril purified.

The cares we hugged drop out of vision, Our hes^rts with dcopor thoughts dila.te. We step from days of sour division Into the grandeur of our fate. (27)

To My Brother, another poom obviously influenced by Rupert BrookcgujoA^ employs the idea that a nan with nobility of purpose is released from Shane by the struggle in which he finds himself3

Give me yo-ar hand, ny brother, search ny face; Look in these eyes lest I should thiiik of shrxic; For we have nade an end of all thingr base.

The occasion of this poem is the death of Sassoon's brother, , whoso "lot is with the ghosts of soldiers dead". The dead nan is glorified; his head is "laurcllAd" a/nd his death, according to the faniliar paradox, is "victory". Because of this "victory" the living will "win the light". This idea of unity between the living and the dead in the caLise of righteoiisness is a common theme in early war poetry, an idea which persisted in some quarters until the a,rmistice. An example of this is Gr,lloway Kyle's preface to tho second series 3o who have died;

Wacy are a more glorious and. more numerous company than the Elizabethans, with whom, in the great comrad-^ship beyond the grave, they still march, an invisible .army, with their brothers-in-arms who continue the material and spiritual warfare here in the flesh, inspiring and directing the fight that will not end Trith the war. (28)

To My Brother, like Absolution, is not really about what it cl.aimr to be; the fact of the brother's death is converted into something else, mystical and rather meaningless. David Sassoon qtialif ies as one of the "undying" in The Dragon and the Undying. Written in the decorous dccasyll.ables common rjiong the Georgia,ns and in Bassoon's work, the poen is divided into tvo parts of six and eight lines respectively. The first pr,rt elaborates an image of wa.r as a self-immolating monster, in"atiable .and violent, bent on the destruction of Beauty, p?.rticularly as it i" found in architecture: ...the Dragon sings And. bopts vcpon the dark with f^lrious wings; And, stung to rage by his oim d.arting fires, Reachsjs with grp.ppling coils from to-im to town; He lusts to break the loveliness of spires...

The language is p.arallelcd by other poets inriting in 1915; t^-pical ir the concluding stpjiza of Julien Gren-fell's poem, Irto Battl-'

• ''•''he thundering line of battle stand'?-, /_nd in the air d-oath moans and sings; But Day shall clasp hin with "trong hands. And Wight shall fold him with soft wings. (29) The ficcond part of 'i'h.o_ Dr2V73_n_and_the UndjjLn.'^ dcalr vith the victim!:: of this raonstor - "the nlain" who arc "vocal !!!! liho storn-bcT'ildornd seas". The a.rticulas^**Aiich is (•^tvantcd to the "undjrin^" ir- that of the natural phcnoncna with which thej are identified (rather in the way that Brooke identifies himself with England's "fTLins" and "riverr'jJ. (30) Their faces are the fair, unshroudcd ni^ht And are their eyes... They wander in the dusk with chanting strcanr. And they are da™-Iit troep-.

In the poem. France, this nyniical identification of the soldiers, dead or alive, with the land, becomer more specific and involves the concept of "victory" as an essentip.l ingredient of the GxoJted mood. The "glee.ninfi;, " a,pocalyptic landscape of Prance "^xxnnr'i "triumphs" in "each soldier's heart serene" and r^ucjc-tr to tho^c '^who"are fortunate, who fipjht"

... such harmonies as ni{jht Only from Heaven bo doimward wa.fted - Voices of victory and delight.

Robert Graves, a fellow soldier, was not ir.iprccGcd by

such, poems as these. In his war memoir, Goodbye to All That, he describes his first impression of Sassoon's poetry:

At this time I was getting ray first book of pocms^ xssggs: Over the Brazier, ready for the press? I had one or two drafts in ray pocket-book and showed them to Siegfried. He froi-med and said that war should not be iiritten about in such a realistic way. In return, he showed me some of his oi-rn poems. One of them began;

Retiirn to greet me, colours that were my joy, Hot in the woeful crimson of men slain... Siesfriod had not yot 'boon in the trenches." I told

him, in rayold -r'oldiGr rawmer, that he TTOuld froon chc,nc:o hi.T rtylc. (3l)

SaPKOon noon did chan£:o his style; nonothclocs, To Victory, the ;nocm quoted by Graves, war not without itr adnircrs. Edward flar^h included it in his I916/1917 anthology of Qeorcip.n Poetry. "hanJc" to -'-ho cffortr of Edjnund Gosse it had been printed in ^'5^nicr_j prefaced by the phrare "by a private noldicr at the front" and nodrr-tly initialled "S.S." Lady Ottoline Morrcll, the wife of the frxiou- pacifirt M.P., Philip Morrellj and a convinced pacifi'^t herself, so plcarcd by the poen th.,t rhe wrote to congratulate it- author. Sa.rsoon recordr. that ^he "fou.nd in it 'that infinite quality that hauntr one*'... a r.^nnpathetic dccire to fly out beyond into '"ho beauty and colour and freedom that one ro long?: for.'" (32) Hobort Grave? told Sacsoon that he would"coon change hi'=' rtylc". In fact Sacsoon was begining to feel i'^olatod fror. beauty. The "gleaning" landccapcs, once an integral part of hir vi-^-ion of ?rancy bcconr: the osnplicit longingr of a poet who desires to a;n-rccia-^c oncn norn "colourr, that were my joy" in a different contej:t than that of a drab and cord-id wars

Hot in the woeful crinron of ncn rlain... Far fron the gun- that boon and flarh.

In other wordc Sar.soon long? for the rort of ia^yllio contort of hir earlier lyrical poen^, poorar that he continued to T.'ritc ui-^til 1916. To Victory recalls their lanfiiagc and raptures

I want to fill ray gaze irith blue and r-ilvcr, Radiance through living rorcc, r.pirc" of .";rccn Hiring in t>

Denirc for this sort of beauty door not spring from a rcnso of

war-iroariners t 33. I am not sadj oOnly I long for lustre.

Although peace is presented as a contrast to war in terns of "radiance" and "lustre," and is whole-heartedly longed for, its "return" can come only through the "Victory" of the title, to Trhich the poera is dedicated. There is a group of four poerar. Before the Battle, The li'y^tic as Soldier, Secret Music and The Kiss, which, althou.gI: they deal with the themes of celf-glorifica.tion5 stand apart from the bulk, of Sassoon's poemc written in the raaod Graves ascribed to the "Ha^py ^Tarrior." They are short-lined pocns, tiglitly rh^Tied. Tending to deny^by implication, the conrad-rhip eulogised in other pocras, they deal with the separatencss of the poet who is a sensitive and solitary being, in a manner more' mystical than T'Jhen I'm- among o. Blase of Lightr.;

I lived ny days apart, Dreaming fair songs for God. (33)

In A Mystic an_ Soldier, the solitaryVystic is di'.tingai''hod spiritually from his follow soldiers by his quest for God in the realm of dca,ths

Now God is in the strife. And I must reek Him there, Tlhere deatjr outnumber,':; life...

The final sta/nza describes the necesso-ry war-like passion, justified by the previously described quest for God irhich svip-nortc the mystic in this search. This is contra,stcd with a plea for the proper harmony to be restored to the mystic's life. Unlike the "anger" in the "brain" which is confined to the intellect, thir- harmony has to do with the "clay" of the senses;

I walk the secret tray 1- With anger in ny brain. 0 nuric throu.gh ny clay, T'lhen will you -round again?

In Secret Music, the journey into death ha? been acconr)lishcd. In The Mystic as Soldier, the -^oot had already been "cro^nicd" by "glory";- here a further coronation taJccs place and nusic return'^ to the solitary nyrtic:

To the world's end I -irent, and found Doa,th in his carnival of glare 5 But in raj'- torment I was croTmed, • And music dawned ?,bove despair.

This nusic does jmt correspond; to the music of AJ'^^^tic a" Soldier btit is "secret." This socrccy expands the idea of the "secret way" in A Mystic o.s Soldier a.nd represents a mysticr.l coming to terns irith the spiritual and enotional pressures of war. The "secret nusic" involves the "glory" in the poet's heart but has noi: undergone a tost of endurance and can be linJcod with a correspondingly tested "beauty";

1 keep such music in my brain No din this side of deo.th can quell; Glory o:ailting over pain. And bcauty_,garlanded in hell.

In both poems there is a confidence in the essential hsjnony of the world. Thus "God is in the strife" and "beauty" is "garlanded in h-11" Above all, the spirit nurtured by the intuitive approhcn':ion of thee harmonies, is separate fron war and cannot be di'^-turbcd by it;

dreaming spirit will not heed The roar of guns...... that on the gloom can read Proud-surging melodies of joy. This basic idea occurs in Before the Batjtlc in which Faturo 14 invoked as a protection; it i<^ this idea that urifics Before the • Battle with A Mystic as Soldier and S_ccre t I.Iiisi_c_5 although it i" • technically di-^sinilar. It is com.po'^ed of two r tczizar of -ix and seven lines rhjued in couplets rather than three four-line ^tansa'' rhjnn.ed alternately. Dated June 25^h I9I6, this poem war iirittcn before the Battle of the Sorame. The dccription of trees, water and birds corresponds to the description of the River Ilarais in Meraoirs of an IixFantry Officer (34) f'-nd was Sassoon'r last contact with such scenes before his first real encounter -ixith trench warfpxe.

I have no need to pray That fear may pass away; I scorn the gTOwl and rumble of the fight That summons me from cool Silence of marsh and pool...

The attitude of aloofness, the concern only with natujrc and scorn of war wa,s soon to give way to a concern with the precise description and evocation of realities on the Front Line. The last poem which may be considered irith this group, i"" The Kisc-. Thorc ha" boon an -amount of unnecessary -pectxlation about Sassoon's intention in Tn?iting thi- poem, deriving from Graves' comment on it in G?odb^c_ jto^ Al_l Tl^^^^^^

Siegfried's unconquerable idealism changed direction with his environments he varied bctireen happy T'arrior and bitter pacifist. Eis poemc

To these I turn, in these I trust, Brother Lead and Sister Steel; To his blind power I make appeal, I guard her beo.uty clean from rust...

had originally been inspired by Colonel Campbell, V.G.'s 54 blood-thirsty "Spirit of the B.ayonet" r.ddrcss at .an amy school. Later, Siegfried offered it as a r.atiro; and it certainly cones off, whichever way you road it.' (35)

First published in May I$l6, ThoJCiss/i-ras written at the Officer'," Training Camp at Plixoc'ourt. Its inspiration is dcrcribod in Ilcnoirs of an Infantry Officer;

The lecturer's voice still battered on ray brain. "The bullet and bayonet arc brother and si':tcr." "If yoii don't kill hin, he'll kill you." "Stick him between the oycs, in the throat, in the chest." "Don't wa'-to good steel.-Si,; inches are enoiigh. IDiat's the aiso of a foot of steel sticking out at the back of a nan's nock? Three inches -will do for hin; when he coughs, go and look for another.-" (36)

If this poem is read as Sassoon originally intended, its bloodthircty- ness is thr",t engendered by the "anger" of' A Mystic as Soldier and the tone is sinilar to §pcTpt_^npj.c_ where the o-ction of battle is a