While visiting Ludlow I found myself looking down the north side
of St Laurence's church for a cherry tree stump. I read it marked the spot
where the poet AE Housman's ashes were buried. It must have been cut down as
there's nothing there now - only a plaque marking the spot. Better than
nothing.
Colin
Dexter who wrote all those Inspector Morse novels loved this poet so I've read
a few of his scribblings. They're very English -
about pastoral beauty, unrequited love, fleeting youth, grief, death. Alfred
Edward Housman was the eldest of seven children and he grew up in Bromsgrove.
He had a unclogged scholar's brain and won a scholarship to St. John's College
in Oxford. Mysteriously this bright spark failed his final exams and left
without a degree. From ages 23 to 33 he worked in Her Majesty's Patent Office
but in the evenings studied Latin and Greek. For a man without a degree he was
oddly appointed Professor of Latin at University College in London and later
took up the same position at Cambridge University.
He's
mainly remembered for regretful and metrical poems, the famous collection being
A Shropshire Lad which he originally published at his own expense
(he was a native of Worcestershire not Shropshire.) The poems present a
nostalgic view of English country life though a deep sense of foreboding keeps
them from floating away. He was probably homosexual and at Oxford University
had fallen in love with a fellow undergraduate (and roommate) Moses Jackson who
probably inspired some of the poems. Moses wasn't of that persuasion and later
emigrated to India and married (AE was heartbroken. ) His works were poplar
with soldiers and many carried a copy with them to the trenches. Despite achieving
acclaim as a scholar and a poet during his lifetime AE lived as a recluse,
rejecting honours and avoiding the public eye. He died aged 77 in 1936 in
Cambridge.
Strolling
around the church grounds I found a cherry tree and later read The Housman
Society had planted it in line with one of the poet's lines:
"Loveliest
of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along
the bough."
Will
someone plant a tree in your memory? Or spend thousands making a statue -
there's one of the poet in Bromsgrove. Bit of a local hero. I did a salute and
left.