20 pages • 40 minutes read
Robert SoutheyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The poem’s first stanza paints an idyllic scene—a pleasant summer evening, a country cottage, an old man resting in the sun outside while his granddaughter plays on the grass. The peace of the scene is hardly disturbed when the man’s grandson finds a large object and asks his grandfather to explain what it is. A darker tone appears in Stanza 3 when Kaspar identifies the “large and smooth and round” (Line 12) object as a human skull and declares it to be the remains of a soldier who was killed “in the great victory” (Line 18). That phrase, along with its variant, “famous victory” (Line 36), is a refrain in the poem, as one of the phrases repeatedly occurs as the last line in seven of the poem’s 11 stanzas.
When Kaspar reveals he has found many skulls in the garden that have appeared during ploughing of the land, his tone is matter-of-fact. It is no surprise to find such relics, he says, since many thousands of men died in the battle. His even tone is contrasted with the eagerness of the young children, who are naturally curious and want to know what the battle was about. The theme of age versus youth is first hinted at here.
The poem’s antiwar stance is first implied in Stanza 6, along with the revelation of Kaspar’s ignorance and lack of curiosity. With his casual attitude, Kaspar refuses to consider any of the moral questions that the battle might raise. Kaspar tells the expectant children that he does not know what the war was about; all he knows is that the English defeated the French. He seems to be recalling what he was told about the battle by his father many years ago, likely when he was a child, but he says, “what they fought each other for, / I could not well make out” (Lines 33-34). He just went along with the received opinion: “But everybody said,’ quoth he, / ‘That ‘twas a famous victory” (Lines 35-36). It seems that Kaspar never had any interest in finding out more.
In Stanzas 7 and 8, when Kaspar reveals the devastating effects of the battle on the civilian population, the antiwar theme becomes front and center. His parents’ home was burned down and they were forced to flee with a child. Kaspar does not actually say that he was that child, although he could have been. It is also possible that he was born later and was told about the battle some years after it occurred. Be that as it may, the details he provides are harrowing for the reader, although Kaspar is unbothered by the fact that many civilians died, including pregnant women and babies: “But things like that, you know, must be / At every famous victory” (Lines 47-48). He does not condemn the slaughter but accepts its inevitability without any apparent feeling about the tragic loss of innocent life. The narrator’s reportage of Kaspar’s actual words supplies the antiwar theme, which makes an imprint on the reader, although Kaspar’s understanding of the event and response to it are quite different. To him, it all seems as inevitable as a rainstorm or some other natural phenomenon—something that is just part of life.
Kaspar at least has memorized the names of the two victorious commanders, England’s Duke of Marlborough and his ally, Austria’s Prince Eugene. By all accounts both fought with great distinction. Age versus youth again emerges here, as the innocent little girl thinks that the wholesale slaughter must have been “a wicked thing!” (Line 57). Kaspar, however, with more experience of life (for better or worse), directly and emphatically corrects her: “‘Nay...nay...my little girl,’ quoth he” (Line 59). He then repeats his refrain, “It was a famous victory” (Line 60), with little elaboration to follow other than saying that “everybody praised the Duke” (Line 61), as if that is enough to invalidate any negative opinion of the battle. Kaspar is certainly not interested in getting drawn into a moral debate with a young child over the ethics of war. He does not think it was a “wicked thing” at all. In Stanza 11, he deflects Peterkin in much the same way. It seems that he has given no thought to what good may or may not have come from the battle (“Why that I cannot tell” [Line 65]). It also seems that the two children, young though they are, possess livelier and more curious minds than that of their grandfather.