“Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori,”
(It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country)
— Horace, 23BC
The line above is taken from a poem by the Ancient Roman poet Horace in which he urges his fellow citizens to take up heroic arms against the enemies of Rome. Much of the poetry of this time was devoted to instilling virtue in the citizenry, particularly nationalistic and military virtue, and it was a commonly maintained belief that death on the battlefield was the highest honor a young man could achieve. Titus in Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus, though sorrowful, was proud of each of his 21 sons who were killed in battle against the invading Goths. This militaristic and nationalistic virtue extolled by the Romans was adopted from the preceding culture of Ancient Greece. As recorded by the Roman historian Plutarch, women of Ancient Sparta were to known to remark to their sons and husbands while handing them their shields, “Either this or upon this”—which was to say, either return bearing your shield in victory, or laying dead upon it (to lose return without one’s shield indicated that one fled battle in cowardness and this was considered the worst crime a Spartan could commit).
Throughout the middle ages, this warrior ethic was retained in the form of the chivalric code (though most of the poetry during this period was more devoted to religion than nationhood.) During the Renaissance, however, military fervor was reinvigorated, perhaps most notably by Shakespeare in Henry V which has many patriotic and militaristic speeches.
Image Source: The Imaginative Conservative
The connection between poetry and patriotism carried throughout the centuries up to the First World War. In the early stages of the conflict, English poets such as Rudyard Kipling, Rupert Brooke and Jessie Pope espoused patriotic and motivational poetry, encouraging young men to sign up and join the “great cause.” Even the most famous Canadian contribution to war poetry, “Flander’s Fields” (1915) by John McCrae, is a romanticism of death on the battlefield and an encouragement to those that follow to “Take up our quarrel with the foe.” Rupert Brooke’s “The Soldier” (1914) is another testament to the patriotic fever with which poets were writing at the time:
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England’s, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
As illustrated in The Guns of August (1962), Barbara Tuschman’s brilliant account of the early stages of WW1, each nation entering the war was optimistic that they would achieve a swift victory and experts on all sides maintained that their soldiers would be “home before the leaves fall.” But as months passed, then years, soldiers became disillusioned by the horrors and banality of trench warfare, with many returning home with what was termed “shell shock.” By 1917, among the soldiers of all nations, enthusiasm for the war began to dwindle, most notably in Russia where disdain for Russia‘s involvement in the war was a primary catalyst for the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution. In Europe, antiwar sentiments were beginning to fester, expressed most vividly through the newly emerging form of realist poetry which, unlike the romantic and patriotic poems of Brooke and Kipling, sought to express dissent and dissatisfaction with the war effort rather than glorify it.
Robert Graves and Siegfried Sassoon were early leaders in this nascent genre. Sassoon’s poems, in particular, were often scathing and satirical while also representing an honest and unfiltered portrayal of the realities soldiers faced in trench warfare. “Suicide in the Trenches” is a poignant example of the contrast between the style of Sassoon and early Romantics like Brooke and Kipling:
I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you’ll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.
In July of 1917, Sassoon made his opposition to the war formal, publishing a letter to his superiors titled, “Finished with the War: A Soldier’s Declaration.” In the letter, he states his “willful defiance” of military authority as he believed the war was being “deliberately prolonged by those who have the power to end it.” Due to his notable bravery on the battlefield and popularity among the soldiers, Sassoon was sent to Craiglockheart’s War Hospital instead of being court-martialed (which would have been the punishment of any other soldier) ostensibly to be treated for neurasthenia or “shell shock.”