Elegy Written in A Country Churchyard
Elegy Written in A Country Churchyard
Elegy Written in A Country Churchyard
Title
The title "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" describes the intention of the poem, which is to reflect on the dead resting
in the titular graveyard. An elegy is a melancholic poem which expresses grief or sorrow for the dead, and Gray's speaker
laments the deaths of the impoverished rural people buried before him. Originally titled Stanzas Wrote in a Country
Church-Yard, the poem was completed when Gray was living near St Giles' parish church at Stoke Poges. It was sent to his
friend Horace Walpole, who popularised the poem among London literary circles. Gray was eventually forced to publish the
work on 15 February 1751, to pre-empt a magazine publisher from printing an unlicensed copy of the poem.
Speaker
The speaker of "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" is a thoughtful, pensive guy. He likes to be alone. At night. In
graveyards. So that he can think about death.
But there's more to this speaker than his arguably morbid tendency to hang out in graveyards. He wants to make sure that we
all remember the lives of people who lived before us, even the lives of simple, country folks like the ones buried in the
churchyard where the poem takes place. He wants to be conscious of the way that he himself will be remembered after he's
dead and gone, and that means thinking carefully about how other people see him now
Sure, this might seem morbid, but the speaker seems to want to set himself apart from the kind of rich, snobby people who
just care about erecting huge monuments and mausoleums in their own honor after they die. Instead, he wants to leave
something less concrete behind him in the memories of the people that he cares about.
Like many poets of the 1700s (Alexander Pope, we're looking at you), Thomas Gray was pretty obsessed with the form of
the poem. You'll have a hard time finding a place where he breaks out of his rigid iambic pentameter or ABAB rhyme
scheme. The stanza form, quatrains with an ABAB rhyme scheme, was common to English poetry and used throughout the
16th century. In fact, the Romantic-era poets (William Wordsworth, S.T. Coleridge, and others) were partly reacting against
this kind of poetic strictness when they started writing in a looser, more free-form style in the early 1800.
This is a long poem, it's true, but the form is pretty straightforward—four-line stanzas, or quatrains and a regular rhyme
scheme and meter to go with it.
Okay, we have to hand it to those eighteenth-century poets like Alexander Pope and Thomas Gray. They sure were into
form! Those guys were all about strict rhyme and meter, and they could really make it work. "Elegy Written in a Country
Churchyard" is an elegy, or a mournful poem, and it's written in what we call heroic quatrains.
A heroic quatrain is a four-line stanza written in iambic pentameter with a rhyme scheme of ABAB. Don't worry, we'll
translate that further. We'll start with the rhyme scheme. Check out the first stanza: The rhyming goes in the way
abab,cdcd,efef,
The first line rhymes with the third line (as noted by the A), and the second line rhymes with the fourth line (the B). If you
look at each stanza, you'll find that the same pattern is consistent throughout. And like we said, most eighteenth-century
poets didn't play fast and loose with their form—you'll have a hard time finding exceptions to this pattern!
Really Regular Rhythms Required
In the case of the elegiac stanza form, iambic pentameter helps the poet create a pensive and stately rhythm that mirrors that
solemnity of the subject. The gently rolling terrain of the country graveyard is reflected in the regularity and sweep of Gray’s
pentameter, allowing syntax and sense to blend naturally.
Now let's talk about the meter, or the rhythm of stressed and unstressed syllables in each line. A heroic quatrain, as we said,
is written in iambic pentameter. But what's that? Well, an iamb is an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable: da-
DUM. And "pentameter" means that there are five ("penta" = five) iambs in each line: da-DUM, da-DUM, da-DUM, da-
DUM, da-DUM. Check it out in action. Let's look at that first stanza again, but we'll highlight the syllables that you'd
naturally stress while reading this out loud:
There are five of those iambs, or da-DUM units, in each line. There you have it: iambic pentameter. And like the rhyme
scheme, you'll find that Gray hardly ever deviates from his chosen form. He'll even shorten words to make them fit—like the
word "over" in line 2, which he contracts to "o'er" to make it a single syllable. You'll notice that kind of poetic contraction a
various points in the poem. Rather than have a messy syllable out of place, Gray (and other eighteenth-century poets) would
just lop off a vowel and stick in an apostrophe and make a contraction.
Form: Fitting?
It's seems almost contradictory that a poem about the lives of common, everyday people should be so obsessively concerned
with poetic form and meter. After all, the common villagers that Gray writes about wouldn't give two straws about iambic
pentameter, so why bother with the strict meter? Could be that Gray was trying to suggest that "heroic" quatrains are
absolutely appropriate for writing about these common folks. After all, part of the point of his poem is that there could be
unsung heroes buried in this churchyard. Why not use an elevated, fancy poetic form to honor and glorify them, since they
don't have fancy monuments over their graves?
Some readers really dig the strict attention for form and detail in eighteenth-century poetry, while other readers prefer the
more loosey-goosey free-form poetry of the Romantic-era poets in the early 1800s (poets like John Keats, Samuel Taylor
Coleridge, William Blake, Lord Byron), or the really free-wheeling poetry of the twentieth century (poets like T.S. Eliot or
Ezra Pound). What's your preference? Do you appreciate the skill it took someone like Thomas Gray to write a long poem in
a set form? Or do you think that kind of attention to form limits a poet's ability to express him or herself?
The Difference from True Elegy,
The poem is not a conventional part of the Classical genre of Theocritan elegy, because it does not mourn an individual. The
use of "elegy" is related to the poem relying on the concept of lacrimae rerum , or disquiet regarding the human condition.
The poem lacks many standard features of the elegy: an invocation, mourners, flowers, and shepherds. The theme does not
emphasise loss as do other elegies, and its natural setting is not a primary component of its theme. Through the "Epitaph" at
the end, it can be included in the tradition as a memorial poem, [23] and it contains thematic elements of the elegiac genre,
especially mourning. [24] But as compared to a poem recording personal loss such as John Milton's "Lycidas", it lacks many of
the ornamental aspects found in that poem. Gray's is natural, whereas Milton's is more artificially designed.
In evoking the English countryside, the poem belongs to the picturesque tradition found in John Dyer's Grongar Hill (1726),
and the long line of topographical imitations it inspired. However, it diverges from this tradition in focusing on the death of a
poet.[26] Much of the poem deals with questions that were linked to Gray's own life; during the poem's composition, he was
confronted with the death of others and questioned his own mortality. Although universal in its statements on life and death,
the poem was grounded in Gray's feelings about his own life, and served as an epitaph for himself. As such, it falls within an
old poetic tradition of poets contemplating their legacy. The poem, as an elegy, also serves to lament the death of others,
including West, though at a remove.[27] This is not to say that Gray's poem was like others of the graveyard school of poetry;
instead, Gray tried to avoid a description that would evoke the horror common to other poems in the elegiac tradition. This is
compounded further by the narrator trying to avoid an emotional response to death, by relying on rhetorical questions and
discussing what his surroundings lack.[28] Nevertheless, the sense of kinship with Robert Blair's "The Grave" was so
generally recognised that Gray's Elegy was added to several editions of Blair's poem between 1761-1808, after which other
works began to be included as well. Any foreign diction that Gray relied on was merged with English words and phrases to
give them an "English" feel. Many of the foreign words Gray adapted were previously used by Shakespeare or Milton,
securing an "English" tone, and he emphasised monosyllabic words throughout his elegy to add a rustic English tone.[32]
The Graveyard School
"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" belongs to an 18th-century British pre-Romantic genre known as the graveyard
school. The name is taken from the common elements of the poems' themes and settings. Graveyards, tombs, nighttime, old
churches, candlelight, night birds, and the dead themselves are frequent elements, while the process of dying, the pain of
bereavement, and consideration of an afterlife are all common topics in graveyard poetry. In its settings and themes,
graveyard poetry was a precursor to gothic literature, which became popular in the latter third of the 18th century, although
the genres differ significantly. Whereas Gothic works emphasize mystery and horror, graveyard poets tend to take a spiritual,
often consoling approach to their topics. Interestingly, it was the novel The Castle of Otranto (1764), written by Gray's
friend Horace Walpole (1717–97), that kicked off the Gothic movement.
In addition to Thomas Gray, there were three other primary graveyard poets:
Irish writer and scholar Thomas Parnell (1679–1718). Parnell's "A Night-Piece on Death" (c. 1722) is generally
identified as the first example of graveyard poetry. Its Christian theme is that death is nothing to be feared but
releases the soul from its earthly prison. The poem describes the dead rising joyously to "mingle with the blaze of
day."
English writer, literary critic, and clergyman Edward Young (1683–1765). Young, who also wrote plays, styled his
lengthy "Night Thoughts" (1742–45) as a series of emotional dramatic monologues written in blank verse (verse
without a rhyme pattern). Each of its nine sections is labeled a "night." Young wrote "Night Thoughts" after
suffering three bereavements in less than six years. The poem's speaker wrestles with the pain of loss and the
fleeting nature of human life. He looks for solace in belief in a benevolent God and the soul's ultimate immortality.
Scottish poet and clergyman Robert Blair (1699–1746). Blair is known for one poem—"The Grave" (1743). Its
positive Christian theme is that everyone dies, whether hero or villain, and then rests until their soul rises to join
"its partner." Then, "Nor time, nor death, shall ever part them more." However, earlier stanzas of the long poem
offer spooky descriptions of tombs, graveyards, and dead bodies—just the sort of thing that would later appear in
Gothic tales. Readers recognize the tactics of a minister who draws in the congregation with storytelling and then
hits them with the lesson at the end of the sermon.
Thomas Gray is perhaps the gentlest of the four poets discussed here. In "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard," he
doesn't rely on spooky imagery or heightened emotions. Instead, he adopts a melancholy, meditative approach to his topic.
Like Young, Gray writes against the background of his own experiences of loss. Like Blair, Gray creates an atmospheric
setting yet, unlike him, does not evoke melodramatic horror in the reader. Gray also recognizes like Blair that everyone dies,
focusing on death as a leveler. Unlike the other graveyard poets, however, Gray does not create images of a specific afterlife.
Instead, his final lines provide only a brief hope of lasting peace for the dead youth in "the bosom of his Father and his God."
Gray's "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" takes place in a country churchyard (of the village Stoke Poges). And that
means that it was written among all the gravestones of the dead members of that church. It's shaded by elm and yew trees,
and there's an owl hooting in the background.
it's about how the living remember the dead. And as the speaker imagines what these dead people's lives were like, the
setting of the poem shifts—the speaker imagines their everyday lives in their country cottages. Most of these people were
farmers, so he imagines them plowing their fields, and coming home to their wives and children at night.
But then the speaker imagines what people will say about him, when he dies, and the setting of the poem shifts again. Now
we're in the shoes of some passerby who happens to see the name of the poet on a gravestone, and happens to ask someone
what he was like. The speaker imagines that he'll be remembered mostly as a thoughtful guy who loved nature, who was
often seen lost in thought under a tree or by the creek.
The emphasis is on the average, everyday, simple "country" part of the setting. There are lots of trees, and creeks, and farms,
and no ghosts in the graveyard at all—unless you count the memories of the past that we all carry with us.
IMAGERIES AND OTHER DEVICES
In "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" Gray creates rich imagery to evoke the countryside, the churchyard, and
the end of day. To achieve this effect, he uses figurative language:
Allusion. Allusion occurs when an author refers implicitly, or indirectly, to a historical event, a literary work, a place,
or even a cultural practice. The author does not further explain the reference and leaves it to the reader to figure out its
relevance. For instance, in "Elegy," Gray refers to three historical figures associated with the English Civil Wars (1642–
51). All three figures were associated with the fight against tyranny and the temporary overthrow of England's
monarchy.
Assonance and alliteration. Both assonance and alliteration describe the repetition of sounds. Assonance is the
repetition of the same vowel sound in words near one another in a text. Alliteration refers to the repetition of the same
consonant sound at the beginning of words near one another. The first line of Stanza 25 of "Elegy" reads, "Haply some
hoary-headed swain may say." The /h/ sound occurs three times in the first three words, producing alliteration. The
same vowel sound (long /a/) occurs in each of the last three words, producing assonance.
Metaphor. A metaphor makes a comparison between two otherwise unlike items. Because a metaphor does not
explicitly state that a comparison is being drawn, a metaphor does not use the word like or as. For example, the last line
of Stanza 13 in "Elegy" says that poverty "froze the genial current of the soul." Here, Gray creates a metaphor by
suggesting that the current is the soul. "Chill Penury [poverty]" he explains, stops this "current" by freezing it.
Metaphor is particularly effective because it forces the reader to think about the two items being compared in new ways.
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke. This is an example of Hyperbaton as the syntax is inverted for poetic
effect.
Personification. Writing about a concept, animal, or thing as if it were human is known as personification. In "Elegy"
Gray often personifies concepts. For example, in Stanza 18 "shame" blushes, in Stanza 22 "Forgetfulness" is dumb
(unable to speak), and in Stanza 23 "Nature cries" out using its "voice."
Synecdoche
Hands that rod of empire might have swayed
This is an example of Synecdoche in which part for the whole is used as hands refer to the ploughmen themselves.
Some village Hampden that with dauntless breast
This is an example of Synecdoche because individual for classes is indicated as Hampden represents a class of
courageous leaders and protestors against tyranny.
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest
This is an example of Synecdoche because individual for classes is indicated as Milton represents a class of
famous talented poets.
End rhyme -is used to make the stanza melodious. For example, “array/lay”, “dawn/lawn” and “hide/pride.”
Line 1: The speaker uses personification in the very first line when he says that the church bell "tolls the knell" of
the day. When a person dies, you ring a church bell to commemorate their death, and that's called a "death knell," so
the poet is implying that the bell that rings at sundown is commemorating the death of the day, as though the day
were a real person.
Lines 5-6: The speaker uses alliteration, or the repetition of consonant sounds, when he describes the "solemn
stillness" of the scene at sunset. The repeated S sound (also known as sibilance) is like a sort of "shushing"—maybe
the speaker wants to emphasize the quiet, calm, stillness of the atmosphere.
Lines 13-16: The speaker uses a metaphor when he says that the dead villagers are only "sleeping" in the shade of
the tree. In fact, this is a euphemism, or a polite way of describing something to soften its harsh reality (like saying
that you're "excusing yourself for a moment" at a fancy dinner, rather than saying "I have to go pee now"). Why
would Gray use a euphemism here? Could be that part of him is afraid of death and his own mortality, so he'd rather
think of these villagers as merely "sleeping" or resting comfortably, rather than rottin away underground.
Lines 53-54: The speaker uses a metaphor when he describes people whose good qualities go unrecognized as
"gems" that are hidden in dark caves under the ocean.
Symbols
Nightfall
Thomas Gray begins his "Elegy" by describing nightfall. This gentle image, however, is also a symbol of death; as
nightfall indicates the end of day, death indicates the end of life. The details in the first few stanzas paint an accurate
and charming picture of the end of day in the country. A herd of cattle prepares for sleep, the plowman heads home,
and darkness descends. The world becomes quiet. However, this is not just the end of day. In the first line the curfew
bell "tolls the knell of parting day," like a bell rung at a funeral. Then, in the last lines of Stanza 4, the reader learns
that the peasants have not just gone to sleep for the night. Instead, the village "forefathers" sleep in their graves.
The Grave
Gray talks about the grave many times throughout his "Elegy." He talks about it not as something frightening, but as
a symbol of death, the great equalizer. In Stanza 4 a grave is a monastic "cell" where the dead sleep. Death, he points
out in Stanza 9, is inevitable: "The paths of glory lead but to the grave."
The graves of the great are decorated with urns and statuary, as he points out in Stanza 11. Yet, the graves of the
poor around him are also decorated. In Stanza 20 Gray mentions a "frail memorial ... / With uncouth rhymes and
shapeless sculpture deck'd." In the next stanza he describes the headstones, which state the names and years of the
dead. He notes "many a holy text ... / That teach the rustic moralist to die." These decorations and headstones would
appear to be symbols of remembrance, but each is also a reminder of human mortality, or memento mori. Memento
mori is a Latin phrase meaning "remember you must die." Reminders of death were commonly carved into
headstones in the churchyard and into statuary on the tombs of the powerful. The most common was a skull.
Line 2: If the title of the poem didn't tip you off right away that we're hanging out in the country, and not in the city, maybe
the mooing herd of cows that appears in line 2 will convince you.
Line 3: The speaker uses alliteration when he repeats the Pl- sound of "plowman plods" and the W sound of "weary way."
The repetition of those consonant sounds might help to emphasize how tired the farmer is—he's "plodding" along. It also
might emphasize that the farmers do this every single day. Plod, plod, plod.
Line 25: The speaker personifies the harvest when he says that it "yields" to the farmer's sickle, the way a beaten warrior
would "yield" or surrender to a superior force. (A sickle is a sharp, curved farm tool used to cut grain. They've been used for
so many centuries and millennia that they often get associated with our ancient, primitive ancestors.
Line 29: The speaker personifies "Ambition" when he says that we shouldn't let the desire to get ahead and get rich keep us
from appreciating the useful work of the farmers.
Lines 101-104: The poet uses alliteration to describe the laziness of stretching out under a tree near a stream. The repetition
of the L sounds ("listless length") and of the B sounds ("brook that babbles by") sort of imitates the sound of the wind in the
tree overhead and the sound of the flowing stream.
For one thing, they could add to the important natural setting of the poem—like the farms and countryside, the trees and
birds remind us of cycles of life: trees lose their leaves in the fall and they grow back in the spring. Birds lay eggs and have
chicks in the spring. And in a poem about death and mortality, remembering that leaves do grow back and new baby birds
are born every year is important. Not only might they represent the cycle of life, but specific types of trees and birds have
different traditional symbolic meanings in Western poetry.
Line 10: Here's our first bird! It's an owl. The speaker personifies the owl when he says that it's "moping" and "complaining"
to the moon. Since owls are nocturnal, they're often associated with death and with spooky hauntings. How appropriate for a
poem about death that is set in a graveyard!
Line 13: Here are our first trees: elms and yews. Elms tend to be associated with strength in poetry (which may be why the
speaker calls them "rugged"), while yew trees often represent eternity and immortality. It's not clear whether or not Gray
intends to bring up the traditional poetic symbolism of these trees, but "eternity" sure would be appropriate, given that his
poem is about death and what happens afterwards!
Lines 18-19: More birds! First he imagines a twittering, tweeting swallow, which is often associated with farms and barns,
since that's where they like to build nests. Swallows are also early risers, like the "cock" or rooster that the speaker imagines
crowing in the following line. These are the birds you hear first thing in the morning. The speaker is imagining the deaths of
the local villagers, so these are the birds that he says they'll never wake up to hear again.
Line 101: Another tree—this time, the speaker is imagining how he'll be remembered after he dies. He thinks that folks
might recall how he used to stretch out lazily under a beech tree. The beech is traditionally associated with ancient history,
the written word, and knowledge of the past. Sounds like a great tree to associate with a poet, don't you think? What kind of
tree or bird would you associate with yourself? Why?
Analogy
In line 28. Gray also uses a series of analogies to examine the talents of the poor. For example in like 53-56, “Full many a
gem of purest ray serene/ The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear/ Full many a flower is born to blush unseen/ And waste
its sweetness on the desert air.” He compares the talents of the poor to hidden “gems” in the ocean and to “flowers”
blooming in the desert. The analogies he uses here express beauty, while still getting his point across to the reader.
Milton is a reference to John Milton, the seventeenth-century poet who penned Paradise Lost. (59)
The Muses—goddesses in Greek and Roman mythology who were responsible for inspiring artists, musicians, and
poets. (72, 81)
Historical References
The "village-Hampden" referenced here is John Hampden, a Puritan politician who opposed the policies of King Charles I.
He refused to pay a tax he thought was unfair. (57)
"Cromwell" is a reference to Oliver Cromwell, the guy who ruled Britain after leading the anti-Royalists in the Civil War
and bringing about the execution of King Charles I. Cromwell was the head of the short-lived English Commonwealth in
1649-1660. (60)
Both John Milton and John Hampden spent time near the setting of Stoke Poges, which was also affected by the English
Civil War. The poem's composition could also have been prompted by the entrance of Prince William, Duke of
Cumberland into London or by a trial of Jacobite nobility in 1746. [53]
References
No references to popular culture in this poem, but there are some famous references to this poem in later literature! Thomas
Hardy clearly loved this poem—he picks up some of the same ideas and themes in his poem, "Afterwards," and he uses a
line of the poem to title his novel, Far From the Madding Crowd. Jane Austen has the irritatingly stuck-up Mrs. Elton quote
from this poem in her novel Emma, and William Wordsworth uses Thomas Gray as an example of what NOT to do as a poet
in his "Preface to Lyrical Ballads."
THEMES
Death
"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" is a poem that takes place in a cemetery, and it's about how people are
remembered after they're dead. So you better believe that death is an important theme! But if this theme gets you down, don't
worry—the poem isn't all doom and gloom, and there are plenty of other themes to consider in relationship to this central
focus on death. Death is associated with the passing of a loved one or inclusively a loss of belief in value. Although the
word death carries negative connotations, Thomas Gray in his poem “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” subverts this
motion by carefully incorporating death as a liberator.
1. What elements of the poem's setting or its opening images tip you off that it's going to be about death and
mortality? How do you know?
2. At what point the poem do you think the speaker shifts from thinking about the deaths of the villagers in the
churchyard to thinking about his own eventual death? Or do you think he's really just musing about his own death
the whole time? Why do you think so?
3. The poem is called an "elegy," or a mournful poem written in someone's memory. Is it an elegy written about the
deaths of the villagers, or about the speaker's own death? Or about death in general? How do you know?
Chew on This
Glass half full alert! The presence of so many birds, trees, and other natural elements suggests that death is relieved by the
possibility of renewal and new life.
This isn't about the simply country folk. Nope, the poem exists for the speaker to mourn the inevitability of his own death.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, (1)
The theme of mortality appears right from the first line, with the metaphor of the church bell ringing a "knell" for the end of
the day. Since a "knell" is a bell toll for a person who has died, the speaker is personifying the day, and is also making death
into a kind of universal—it's not just people who die, but even each day dies at sunset! Fortunately, the sun comes up again
in the morning, so maybe there's a hint of hope here?
Though the speaker says that death cannot be escaped and it comes to everyone, he also speaks about the value of
remembering, honouring or just imagining the life of those who are no more. The poem suggests that if we do so it can
become a meaningful act of remembering those whom history and the world have forgotten long back.
The poem also tries to convey that these acts of remembering someone can help us face our mortality. Commemorating the
dead makes it easy for us to live and enjoy the present. The people who have been buried in the churchyard do not have any
proper memorials and the narrator says that their graves are heaps of dirt and dust without any proper decorations which are
found on the tombs of rich people.
1. When the speaker starts thinking about his own death, why does he imagine what a random villager will say about
him (95-116)? Why doesn't he tell us about his own life in his own words?
2. Why doesn't the speaker think that it's a good idea to put up monuments to commemorate the dead? Don't fancy
statues and monuments help us remember the past? What does he want us to do instead?
3. The poet seems to want to be remembered as a nature lover—someone who hangs out under trees listening to
babbling brooks—rather than as a great poet. Why is that, do you think? Does being a nature lover have anything to
do with being a poet? Why or why not?
4. How would you want to be remembered after you're gone? Try imagining what a neighbor or classmate would say
about you after you die (or move away or graduate, if that's too depressing). Bonus points if you write it in heroic
quatrains!
Chew on This
Statues shmatues! In this poem, the speaker wants to emphasize the importance of lives that are not commemorated by
monuments or remembered by official history: the lives of common people that could potentially have been Miltons or
Cromwells, if only they had been recognized and remembered.
Thomas Gray suggests that death is democratizing—it strikes down rich people as well as poor people—but he goes further
to suggest that we might be remembering the wrong people for the wrong things.
“For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn...”
These are the lines where the speaker starts to imagine what the lives of the dead villagers were really like. They don't have
fancy monuments over their graves, and no one wrote the story of their lives, so it's up to him to imagine what their past was
really like. And it's a pretty cozy, homely image: nice fire in the fireplace, a wife there to fix supper, kids climbing into his
lap when he gets home from work to get cuddled. But of course, this is all the speaker's imagination. Is this memory legit, do
you think? Is it fair to project this kind of memory onto total strangers? Or is it a way of honoring them in spite of the fact
that there is no record of their lives?
“Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,”
The speaker wants to make sure that proud, snotty people don't turn up their noses at the poor folks from the village who
couldn't afford to put up fancy monuments over their loved ones' graves. In fact, he personifies "Memory" here, saying that it
was "Memory" that didn't put up the monuments, or "trophies." It's like he's trying to displace the blame.
“Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” appeared at one of those cultural moments when change was in the air but had not
quite arrived. In a piece celebrating the two hundredth anniversary of the “Elegy”’s publication, Carl J. Weaver provided an
inventory of “the originality of Gray’s democratic sympathy”: the American Revolution was twenty-five years away, and the
French Revolution forty; it was to be twenty years until Oliver Goldsmith would write of “a bold peasantry, their country’s
pride,” and still another twenty-five after that until Robert Burns framed the simplicity of the democratic spirit with “A
man’s a man, for a’ that.” Ideas of equality may be at the core of the society we live in, but they were exceptional when Gray
wrote.
This apparently was the reason why he felt the need to go to such lengths to help his readers know the simple country people
he was writing about. They were not the lazy, stupid brutes his readers would have to believe they were in order to believe
that they deserved to live in poverty and obscurity. They worked hard at “useful toil,” their children loved them, and they
asked for little in return. These were not easy people to ignore, by Gray’s standard: their virtues should have made them
stand out as society’s finest, and he writes with bitterness that they were left to rot in obscurity in tiny churchyards while
men and women not nearly as useful or loved rested under marble monuments.
As a vindication of the poor, this poem does excellent work: like all of the best works of social conscience, it knows how to
handle its audience, making our hearts swell with pride for the virtues of the downtrodden. This is where the regular rhythm
and unyielding rhyme scheme fit in, by assuring readers of the inevitability of this view of the simple country folk and not
just a limited view of one select group. The problem is that, having imagined the greatness of the “rude Forefathers” so well
and rendered them so convincingly, Gray did not have any idea about what he should do about their descendants that labored
on. He was hardly the revolutionary. As much as he opposed inequity, still he was not ready to call for some sort of Marxist
social reorganization that would bring the intellectuals and civil servants to the farms and give plowboys their turn in
the House of Lords. The best that Gray could come up with to compensate for the opportunities that had been denied these
simple country people was the complaint that they should have memorials on their graves as nice as those that mark the
remains of social luminaries, in acknowledgment of the fact that they could have been important too, given the chance.
The problem with having nothing to offer but praise and recognition is that the poem burns up the value of praise on its way
to affirming the commoners’ self-worth. “Can storied urn or animated bust / Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?”
the poem asks, and the answer, of course, is no. “Can Honor’s voice provoke the silent dust, or / Flattery sooth the dull cold
ear of Death?” Since they can’t, then just what are we supposed to do about those who died without recognition? The poem
expends much of its energy convincing readers that these people lived valuable, useful lives and that memorials are for the
Proud and the Vain, but it also wants to stir our sense of pathos over the fact that they do not have grand memorials.
As William Empson has pointed out, referring to the fourteenth stanza of Gray’s “Elegy” in his essay “Proletarian
Literature,” “a gem does mind being in a cave and a flower prefers not to be picked.” The occupants of the churchyard may
have had bad lives, but that is not their own view, it is the judgement of an onlooker, the speaker of the poem: it is the same
voice that simultaneously warns us not to be so arrogant as to assume that their lives are worthless.
In the end, there is nothing the speaker can offer but himself. Literary historians have gone back and forth for two-and-a-half
centuries about who the young man elegized at the end is supposed to be: Gray, his recently deceased friend Richard West, a
townsperson, or someone completely new. One thing that seems certain is the bond between him and the speaker of the first
116 lines; the melancholy of the nightfall in the first stanzas perfectly matches the young man’s “drooping, woeful wan”
muttering as he looked out over the cemetery. The attitudes and sensibilities which take their effect on readers throughout the
29 initial stanzas have already affected the “youth to fortune” who is buried there, and so his way of dealing with social
inequity can be taken as the poem’s result.
The answer this poem offers for the fact that good people who lack social prominence are left forgotten after death is for a
prominent person to climb down into the grave with them, to be buried beside them and to raise up at least one large
monument with a lofty epitaph within that forsaken cemetery. It is a much more temperate solution than calling for a
revolution to disrupt the social structure (like the revolutions that were to come later in that century). It is at least more active
than simply walking away from the problem and concluding that the downtrodden must somehow deserve the fate dealt
them. Lacking a burning indignity about the way things are but unable to sit comfortably with it, Gray’s young man, steeped
in sadness, opts for a show of solidarity to mock the rules that say he is from a different “set” than the farm people.
Is it effective? There is no way to tell from the way the poem leaves things. Generally, rejection of one’s class privileges and
identifying with the downtrodden only produces the minimal effect of making one’s relatives and former friends sigh and
wink, unless the class advantage is used to pry some good out of the situation. A child of wealth from a gated suburban
community who goes to live in the inner city in order to upset conventional assumptions is likely to just make people think
he or she has an inflated sense of importance, while a physician who goes to an impoverished area to work is both an
inspiration and a practical asset. The “Elegy” has an inconsistency in praising the inherent worth of the simple country
people while pretending that their lives are somehow less for having not received the benediction of a poet before. This is
reflected in the egoism in believing that having the body of a beloved young man from a good home among them is
somehow an enriching experience for the rural dead. Gray’s heart was in the right place, far ahead of its time in terms of his
thoughts on social equity, and with no models for him to draw from we shouldn’t be surprised that his attempt to bridge the
chasm of social class would reflect the very prejudices he was trying to overcome.
1. Who do you think is the intended audience of this poem? Rich people? Poor people? The middle class? Women?
Men? Why do you think so?
2. Why does the speaker think that rich people (the "proud" of line 37) would blame the villagers for not having
monuments over their graves? Does he really expect the rich to look down their noses at poor people's graves? Or is
he really just addressing anyone in his audience who might dismiss the graves of the poor as being insignificant?
3. Why does the speaker bring up historical figures (John Hampden, John Milton, and Oliver Cromwell in lines 57-
64)?
4. In a poem ostensibly about death (it is, after all, titled an "elegy," or a poem of mourning), why might Gray
choose to bring up the theme of society and social class at all? Does this distract the reader from Gray's larger points
about mortality? Why or why not?
Chew on This
In Gray's "Elegy," death is a democratizing force: it strikes down both the rich and the poor, so there's no point in erecting
monuments to commemorate anyone. Death is a great equalizer!
By bringing up historical figures like John Hampden, John Milton, and Oliver Cromwell, Gray suggests that poor people
have as much potential to do great things as rich people, but their circumstances keep them from fulfilling their potential.
Bummer.
“Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure”
The speaker seems to expect the reader—at least, rich, snooty readers—to look down their noses at the lives of the poor
because they didn't accomplish anything worthy of being recorded in the history books.
“Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen,”
The speaker uses a metaphor, though, to point out that some of the poor people buried here might have been worthy of being
recorded in history books, but never had the opportunity. They wasted their lives in the "desert air" of their tiny village and
were never recognized by the wider world. Cases of potential greatness are common enough, for beautiful pearls lie at the
bottom unseen in the wilderness
“Some village-Hampden,”
There could have been someone like John Hampden, a man who stood up to the tyranny of the king, living in this village,
only no one ever wrote down what he did. Does that make his accomplishments any less valid or legit?
The villagers had to live their lives in the seclusion of the village—outside of the national spotlight. They didn't make a lot of
"noise," in that they didn't do anything that got recorded in the history books, but that doesn't mean that we should just forget
about them.
Isolation
The speaker of Gray's "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" sure is excited to be left alone in a dark churchyard after the
sun goes down. What's up with that? This guy might just like his solitude, but we're guessing that there's more to it than that.
1. Why is the speaker so pleased to be left by himself in the "darkness" of the churchyard in the first stanza?
2. How might the poem be different if the speaker had an interlocutor—in other words, if there were someone
physically present in the churchyard with him to listen to and share his musings? How important is his solitude to
the feel and meaning of the poem?
3. The speaker imagines how he'll be remembered after he's gone in the final stanzas of the poem. He doesn't
imagine being mourned or missed by any family or friends—he imagines what a total stranger will say about him.
What's the effect of that choice on your reading? Does the speaker have no friends, or are they just not important to
what he's trying to do here?
Chew on This
The speaker emphasizes the solitude of each individual villager in his "cell"-like grave (15). Since death isolates us all, it
seems appropriate that the speaker should be completely alone during his musings about death and mortality. Talk about a
downer!
Because the speaker is contemplating the lives and deaths of complete strangers, it makes sense that he should imagine how
his own death would be remembered by strangers, as opposed to by his own friends and family. This helps to legitimize the
notion that the speaker is brooding over the phenomenon of death rather than having a subjective approach to it. The core of
the poem mulls over the universal truths about death rather than focusing on the relationship between death and his own
persona or the perceived heroes of the history of Britain. Because when the speaker meditates over the death of the strange
and “rude forefathers” of the “hamlet” he is enforcing the perspective of an outsider. The same enforcement of the outsider
perspective can be seen when he constructs a hypothetical situation that predicts the possible approach of the rustic villagers
to his death. The rustic villager speaks about him as a mysterious character who would walk up the lawn during the early
morning, stretch under a tree in the afternoon, and move with crazed passion at evening while talking to himself. Here it is of
tremendous significance that the poet doesn’t try to justify his acts, instead he allows the “hoary headed swain” to pour out
remarks in a very queer and poor fashion. Thus, the distant and generalised view of the poet towards the death of rustic
villagers is the same perception that the rustic villagers adopt toward the poet’s death. Therefore it should be noted that Grey
has very little subjective intentions that attach his persona along with the rustic villagers in creating a poem that addresses
the exclusive ideals of both parties.
The villagers described in the poem lived their whole lives in relative isolation. They lived far away from the noisy,
"madding" crowds of cities like London. They spent their entire lives among a relatively small number of people. Does this
mean that they were more prepared for the isolation of the grave than people who live in cities who are used to noise and
crowds?
The paths of glory lead but to the grave. (36)The speaker wants us to remember that everyone dies. EVERYONE. And all of
your worldly ambitions—college, a great career, whatever your "paths of glory" might be—only end in one place: death.
Sorry to rain on your parade
Importance of Love
Despite their humble lives, the dead enjoyed simple pleasures while alive. One of these is the love of their
families. Gray describes the lives the dead once led in Stanza 6. One clear image is of children greeting their father when he
came home from the fields. They would "climb his knees the envied kiss to share"—vying for his affection. This lively
picture of family life is full of joy. Similarly, the epitaph, which speaks for the dead youth buried there, says heaven sends
recompense for the youth's generosity ("bounty") and sincerity. This recompense is friendship. Thus, Gray identifies family
and friends—both simple pleasures—as the greatest joys in life.
After a person's earthly life, these loved ones will remember them and grieve them. Gray considers this in Stanzas 22 and 23,
saying the dying person looks back on life with "longing." The "parting soul relies" on the love in "some fond breast" and
"requires" a few tears. It is only natural, Gray says, to want to be remembered by loved ones.
It always finds some disposition of our mind favourable to receive it, some passion which cannot resist its power
and some feelings which participate in its sorrow. In the current of the thoughts of the Elegy, there is nothing that is
rare or exceptional or out of the common way. In the reflections of the elegy,it is difficult to conceive of anyone
musing under similar circumstances who should not muse in the way Gray has done. There are some feelings and
thoughts that cannot grow old. The mystery of life does not become clearer,or less solemn and awful, for any
amount of contemplation. Such questions inevitable and everlasting as they are, do rise in the mind when one
reflects on Death, and they can never lose their freshness, never cease to fascinate and move us.
It is with such questions that the Elegy deals. It deals with them in no lofty philosophical manner, but in a simple,
humble, homely way, always with the trust and broadest humanity. The poet’s thoughts turn to the poor; he forgets
the find tombs inside the church and thinks only of the mouldering heaps” in the churchyard outside. In dealing with
them, he faces problems, – problems of the brevity of life, of the certainty of pain, of death and of the helplessness
of man.And in these problems, he keeps on brooding and his meditations take a deeper and more universal meaning.
The Elegy, therefore, is the outcome of the lonely meditations and musings of his obscure and secluded life. It is a
poem, which has reached the hearts of mankind.
There are other merits which this poem possesses, and these merits go to add to the popularity of this poem. It
possesses the charm of incomparable felicity of a melody that is not too subtle to delight every hearer, of a moral
persuasiveness that appeals to every generation and of a metrical skill that in each line proclaims the master. Gray
himself was, however, of the opinion that the popularity of the Elegy was due to the subject and if the subject had
been treated of in prose, it would have been equally popular.
Theme
Gray is considered to be the most original of all the transitional poets in the selection of his themes. It is in his
poetry that we have, for the first time, a departure from the treatment of urban life. Poetry of the classical age,
written under the inspiration of Alexander Pope, is purely related to the depiction of urban life, the fashions of the
ladies and the manners of the Court. Gray is the first poet who depart from this beaten track of town life and
concentrates his attention on the Middle Ages and the Norse and Scandinavian mythology. His originality is
endorsed by Gazamian who writes that “he was the first to feel the attraction of the Middle Ages and of
Scandinavian antiquity …… The‘Bard’, and specially, the “Fatal Sisters’ and the “Descent of Odin’ composed
before the publication of Perey’s ‘Reliques’ are, as it were, soundings taken in medieval superstition, of primitive
legends and beliefs of simple and popular wonder, the depth and fecundity of which were to be gradually realized.”
Love of Nature
Gray was alive to the external manifestations of Nature and observed them curiously, as is clear from his reflections
in his poems. Instead of being fresh and new, his visions of Nature are discreet and pretty. They are objective. The
sublimity of the Alps and the religous horror of high mountains are frank expressions of his visions,-things as others
would see them. Again, in the opening lines of the “Elegy”, he presents the close of the day remarkably and
beautifully.
Musical Quality
The versification of Gray possesses exquisite musical sweetness and about his diction he himself tells that “the style
i have aimed at is extreme conciseness of expression yet pure perspicuous and musical.” Gray’s style has the dignity
of Milton and stately march of his verse resemble that of Dryden. The fondness of elegance coupled with the use of
musical cadences, which is the characteristic trait of Gray, imparts to his poem a rich rythmical harmony and solemn
musical effect
Background
Thomas Gray probably began “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” about 1746. It was originally asomewhat
shorter poem than the version he published in 1751, and some have speculated that the poemmay have been
occasioned by an actual death, perhaps that of Gray’s friend Richard West in 1742.When Gray designated his work
as an elegy, he placed it in a long tradition of meditative poems thatfocus on human mortality and sometimes reflect
specifically on the death of a single person. By settinghis meditation in a typical English churchyard with mounds,
gravestones, and yew trees, Gray was alsofollowing a tradition. Some of the most popular poems in the middle of
Gray’s century were set in graveyards and meditated on death.
The poem is a famous elegy. Usually a poet writes an elegy on the death of his dear friend. Traditionally it is
imagined that the dead person was a shepherd and his fellow shepherd, often the poet, sings sorrowfully in his
praise. An elegy gradually passes from a sad state of mind to a state of hope as the poem ends. But this elegy is not
written on the death of a single person. It is written to mourn the death of all the death villagers.
Mood and tones in Elegy.
The poem is a famous elegy. Usually a poet writes an elegy on the death of his dear friend. Traditionally it is
imagined that the dead person was a shepherd and his fellow shepherd, often the poet, sings sorrowfully in his
praise. An elegy gradually passes from a sad state of mind to a state of hope as the poem ends. But this elegy is not
written on the death of a single person. It is written to mourn the death of all the death villagers.
The perfect fitting of the language to the generalities has caused some of the lines and phrases to have an almost
proverbial familiarity. The speaker in Thomas Gray's "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" does not work to
create a distinct voice. Rather, the speaker's voice is melodious, imbuing the poem with many levels of meaning.
The structure of "Elegy" reflects poetic conventions of the day. Gray follows the convention of a Horatian ode,
typified by four-line stanzas written in iambic pentameter and following an ABAB rhyme scheme. Thus, the last
word in the first line rhymes with the last word in the third line. Similarly, the last words in lines 2 and 4 rhyme.
Iambic pentameter means that each line consists of five two-syllable feet that follow an unstressed-stressed pattern.
Thus, da DUM would be one iambic foot. This strict pattern required some words to be shortened to fit the metrics
(rhythmic pattern). Thus, in Stanza 1 over becomes "o'er." In the second glimmering becomes "glimm'ring." The
apostrophe indicates a syllable has been dropped to force the word to conform to iambic pentameter. This results in a
very natural sounding, very melodic poem. The patterns soothe and heighten the contemplative mood.
Gray's use of vowel and consonant sounds intensifies this mood. He uses "dark" vowels—vowels produced at the
back of the mouth—in Stanza 1, for instance, to create a solemn atmosphere. There are dark vowels in the
words toll, lowing, slowly, plowman, homeward, and darkness. In Stanza 5 he uses "bright" vowels—vowels
produced in the front of the mouth—to produce a lighter mood when describing the morning. Consider the "bright"
vowels in the words breezy, incense-breathing, and twitt'ring, for instance. Gray's repeated use of the sounds /t/
and /k/ in the second and third lines of that stanza provide a sense of activity through their staccato sound. This
keeps with the idea of starting the day.
Gray's word choice allows him to pack large amounts of information into the narrowly defined metric and rhyme
patterns. In the first line, for example, when the curfew bell is rung to send people home, it does not just ring the
curfew. Instead, it "tolls the knell." A knell is rung for a funeral, and toll indicates a particularly solemn sound. Thus,
in just one line Gray describes the formal end of day and introduces the concept of the end of life. In this way he
also signals his use of nightfall as a metaphor for death. A metaphor is a poetic device that implies—rather than
stating explicitly—a similarity between otherwise unlike things. Metaphor is not the only poetic device Gray uses to
enrich meaning. He also uses allusion to great effect. Simply by dropping the name Cromwell—a reference to Oliver
Cromwell—Gray evokes notions of heroic struggle against tyranny and ethical leadership and contrasts that with the
unknown Cromwell in the graveyard. At the same time, however, the name recalls the tribulations of war during
Parliament's overthrow of King Charles I. Through word choice, metaphor, and allusion, Gray often uses one word
to suggest many ideas.
ENLIGHTMENT PRINCIPLES
In his “Elegy,” Enlightenment rationality had gained enough public support to stand on its own. To some extent, the
poem displays Enlightenment principles in the way that the speaker shows faith that the rural poor could be
intelligent and successful if they had proper education, reflecting Locke’s theory of the mind as a “blank slate” that
is ready to grow. The pessimism he shows, though, regarding the potential for corruption if the poor were educated,
is contrary to the standard Enlightenment optimism about the good that will result from education.
This question is important because the voice of the ‘Hoary headed swain, speaking in this imagined future to the
‘kindred spirit, ’ dominates the remainder of the poem.The dominant explanation is that ‘thee’ is in fact ‘me, ’ either
seen to be Gray, or the poem’s persona. Briefly, this proposal depends on us understanding that Gray or the poem’s
persona has reached a point where his reflections are mature enough for him to distance himself from his own death,
which he now imagines peacefully, having come to terms with his own mortality—even to the extent of imagining
his own epitaph.
Another popular suggestion is that the ‘thee’ is Gray’s close friend Richard West, who had died not long before. The
composition date of the ‘Elegy’ is not quite clear: one, largely discarded, suggestion is that it was commenced as
early as 1742, which means it may have been begun just after West’s death. Indeed the epitaph, for some critics, was
one that Gray originally intended for West, an aspiring poet and Eton College schoolmate, whose career was
abbreviated by his premature death. The ‘Elegy, ’ however, hardly supports this suggestion (not least because
West’s background was not ‘humble, ’ as line 119 seems to indicate), and anyway its composition date is now
usually accepted to be rather later.
A third suggestion is that this ‘thee’ represents an imagined poet, or even an imagined personification, ‘The Poet.’
Most usually this ‘poet’ is seen as a poeta ignotus—an unknown poet of humble origins fated never to reach a wide
audience.
Understood as the personification of an abstract muse (as ‘the muse of poetry’ or, in my opinion more pertinently,
as the ‘muse of literacy’), rather than any individual. And, anyway, even if we accept that ‘muse’ refers to a person,
we are only sure this ‘muse’ writes ‘names [and] … years, ’ the bare data that all gravestones carry. Whether he also
writes the ‘uncouth rhimes’ is less certain.
Now, I of course cannot resist adding one further plausible signified. It seems to me a further plausible reading could
be that ‘thee’ denominates
(g) the reader of the poem (thee = thee, the reader) (real)
—an idea depending on a scenario where the reader is reciting the ‘Elegy, ’ to him or herself or actually aloud, and
in this sense relating the tale told in the ‘Elegy, ’ the tale of ‘th’ unhonour’d dead, ’ of which the reader is, sui
generis, being ‘mindful’ whilst reading the poem. Here the sense of ‘relate’ being deployed is related to the (now
obsolete) one, ’4b: to adduce, cite (an authority (OED). This might seem to render up Gray’s idea of his readership
in an interesting way: a readership which is sensitive, but not especially exalted. A problem here could be the
objection that, since Walpole was one of Gray’s readers, these cannot really be seen as generically ‘humble’ in
origins— but this problem can be dismissed to some extent by refusing to accept that ‘me’ and Gray can be equated
and instead preferring to regard ‘me’ in the poem as a persona.
It is increasingly often argued by historians that the middle decades of the eighteenth century mark a transition point
in the cultural valuation and significance of literacy:
In the mid-eighteenth century about a third of men and two thirds of women were unable to sign their name, though
the local incidence of illiteracy varied widely. But the acquisition of basic reading skills by those on the margin of
middle- and lower-class life, for whom they were coming to be an essential working asset, was a notable feature of
urban society.
The sting lies in the tail of this analysis: that literacy was becoming of increasing cultural importance was
particularly true for those living in towns and cities—but the dislocations occasioned by the processes of enclosure
and engrossing had displaced segments of the rural population. Some of these were inevitably drawn into these
urban areas (in a process of increasingly fluid interchange between country and city), as the position of the rural
worker, now an agricultural labourer, was rendered far more precarious. Education, particularly education to provide
literacy, was becoming increasingly necessary. This, too has been quite widely agreed on by historians: one basic
sign of this was patterns of reading:
There were many pointers to wide and growing readership in the mid-eighteenth century, including the production
of both metropolitan and provincial newspapers, and the multiplication of new tract and book titles generally.
But these positive signs are counterbalanced by the way in which there was no decisive increase in the numbers
signing parish marriage registers in the period 1754 to 1800. Indeed it is a significant sign of the growing
importance of literacy that it was the year 1753 that had witnessed the introduction of Lord Hardwicke’s act
requiring the signing of parochial wedding registers (thus enabling us to know the percentage signing marriage
registers). Literacy was plainly becoming increasingly important for the individual in his or her negotiations with
society. Literacy, I am suggesting, and beside it, education, were two key issues of the middle decades of the
eighteenth century, issues of decisive socio-cultural significance. Reading and writing were key terrains of cultural
hegemony. To obtain these prizes was of real social significance throughout the eighteenth century.
SPECIAL ANNOTATIONS
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;
How jocund did they drive their team afield!
How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Not only do these peasants labor diligently, they are perfectly content in doing so. Because they labor cheerfully,
Gray seems to say, they deserve our respect and sympathy. Indeed, the poet himself left ten pounds to be distributed
to “honest and industrious poor Persons” in the Parish of Stoke Poges. Also it is a celebration of physical strength.
To the ends of making the poor industrious and of suppressing recreation, propertied interests sought to discourage
all forms of public assembly for the poor and attempted “to confine their recreation, when necessary, to domestic
pleasures.…The home was a refuge from the world; here amusement could be rational, regulated, uplifting, and
subservient to the laws of religion.” We note accordingly that Gray’s portraits of rural life do not suggest any form
of public life on the part of the poor; rather, his peasants are “far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife.” The
emphasis here, I suggest, is on “far.” Similarly, the poet perhaps displaces representations of recreation with
moments of domestic tranquility:
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care:
No children run to lisp their sire’s return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Without question, Gray here devalues the public realm for the poor and seeks to confirm familial values of privacy
and domestic autonomy. Furthermore, the poet’s choice of “sire,” that is, “a lord, master, or sovereign” (OED),
hearkens back to an age of feudalism when a “sire’s” rule was entirely capable of instilling order. Perhaps the initial
solitary figure of Gray’s poetic landscape, the ploughman who “homeward plods his weary way,” returns to such a
domestic bower to uphold this order. Indeed, this rustic farmer becomes a universal type of a domesticated and
industrious laborer. The poet denies this figure of all potential radical action. Might Gray have stripped this farmer
of topicality because local farm laborers had a history of revolt? We might recall here that the Buckinghamshire
community of Diggers were a radical group so named because they subsisted by digging and cultivating common
land.
Both the poet and men of propertied interests had good reason to believe that the poor would rise up against them;
although Gray desperately seeks to marginalize the crowd by placing it “far” away in his elegy, the “madding
crowd” was closer to the poet’s Buckinghamshire home and to the country churchyard of Stoke Poges than anyone
there would have liked. As I have already noted, Buck-inghamshire had had a history of popular uprisings. And
although E. P. Thompson argues that eighteenth-century crowds were ruled by the “remarkable restraint” of a
“moral economy,” “crowd” was a terrifying word for the established order: “crowd” implied either “a multitude
confusedly pressed together” or a “promiscuous medley, without order or distinction” (Johnson’s Dictionary).
Moreover, as Eveline Cruickshanks has argued, “Large crowd demonstrations and violent riots could not be ignored
by an elite devoid of an effective professional police force or a large standing army.” As if the use of the word
“crowd” were not adequately alarming, Gray also calls attention to their “ignoble strife” and to the fact that they are
“madding” or furious. The issuance of a Riot Act in 1715 by Parliament, specifically to put an end to “tumults and
riotous assemblies, and for the more speedy and effectual punishing of rioters,” suggests that eighteenth-century
crowds were an extremely disruptive force; indeed, under the Act’s provisions, crowds of twelve or more which
unlawfully assembled for an hour after the reading of a proclamation were guilty of a felony, and were subject
to capital punishment. Despite the act, however, rioting was not contained. The prime minister, Sir Robert Walpole
(father of Gray’s friend and patron), himself witnessed just how unruly a crowd could be; in response to his attempt
to postpone the unpopular 1733 Excise Bill, the crowd outside the House mobbed Walpole and his friends, and even
though the Riot Act was read, blows and abuse were exchanged.
But the reference to the crowd’s “ignoble strife” may be even more historically specific. Food riots were extremely
common in 1740: just a few years before Gray would begin writing his elegy. To cite only a few instances, crowds
rose in New-castle-upon-Tyne protesting the high price of corn, and plundered granaries. When a rioter was killed,
the crowd “ransacked” the town hall and carried away 1, 800 pounds of the town’s money. In the process, the crowd
“wounded most of the gentlemen.” And in Norwich, the rabble fixed notes upon bakery doors in the city demanding
that the price of wheat be lowered. When the mayor committed the leaders to prison, the crowd became so incensed
that they stormed the prison and released their companions. Elsewhere, villagers pulled down mills, protested rises
in prices, and began stopping the transport of any grain to be for exportation. As the historian R. B. Rose aptly put it,
“Where simple hunger riots are concerned, no part of England seems to have been immune.”
LOWLY BEDS
The term “lowly beds” describes not only the unpretentious graves in which the forefathers are buried, but the
humble conditions that they endured when they were alive.
This person, the speaker reasons, with the proper education and resources, might have “commanded” the
government as well as any great political leader. Note, however, that Gray gives us two ways in which to consider
this power. On the one hand, a great ruler can receive applause and can ignore “threats of pain and ruin.” A great
leader can “scatter plenty,” can offer prosperity, to a grateful nation. But on the other hand, if one governs, one is, in
fact, exposed to dangerous threats. And simply governing to receive “applause” suggests a shallow and self-serving
motive. Moreover, “scattering plenty” implies that the wealth of a nation can be squandered by its rulers. Gray may
be suggesting that having power is not as desirable as it seems. Note that the final line of this stanza is enjambed; it
continues into the following line—and in this case, the next stanza. Lines 65-68: The first line of this stanza
continues the thought of the previous, enjambed line. It abruptly reminds us that the impoverished conditions of the
poor “forbade” them from becoming great rulers. Gray underscores the abrupt shock of this idea by abruptly
interrupting the flow of the line with a caesura. Building on the idea of the previous stanza, the speaker notes that if
poverty prevented the country laborers from acquiring the “virtues” of great and powerful people, it also prevented
them from committing the “crimes” often associated with those people—and especially with those people who hold
political power. In particular, it prevented them from engaging in the bloody activity associated with the British
Civil War.
that could be read either as being guiltless for violence during the English Civil War or merely as villagers being
compared to the guilty Cromwell.
The curfew bells were rung as the warning for the extinction of fire at the fixed time in the Evening. It was
introduced by William, the conqueror. In those days the houses were built of timber and fires had to be put out as a
matter of precaution (protection).