Dear ones: Underwood says in his biography of Lowell: "In the by James Russell Lowell: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
This poem features James Russell Lowell channeling his down-to-earth character Hosea Biglow as he reflects on three young relatives who lost their lives in the Civil War.
The poem
privately printed edition of the poem the names of eight of the poet's kindred are given. The nearest in blood are the nephews, General Charles Russell Lowell, killed at Winchester, Lieutenant James Jackson Lowell, at Seven Pines, and Captain William Lowell Putnam, at Ball's Bluff. Another relative was the heroic Colonel Robert G. Shaw, who fell in the assault on Fort Wagner." As a special memorial of Colonel Shaw, Lowell wrote the poem, _Memoriae Positum._ With deep tenderness he refers to his nephews in _"Mr. Hosea Biglow to the Editor of the Atlantic Monthly":_ "Why, hain't I held 'em on my knee? Didn't I love to see 'em growin', Three likely lads ez wal could be, Hahnsome an' brave an' not tu knowin'? I set an' look into the blaze Whose natur', jes' like theirn, keeps climbin', Ez long 'z it lives, in shinin' ways, An' half despise myself for rhymin'. "Wut's words to them whose faith an' truth On War's red techstone rang true metal, Who ventered life an' love an' youth For the gret prize o' death in battle? To him who, deadly hurt, agen Flashed on afore the charge's thunder, Tippin' with fire the bolt of men Thet rived the Rebel line asunder?"
This poem features James Russell Lowell channeling his down-to-earth character Hosea Biglow as he reflects on three young relatives who lost their lives in the Civil War. Sitting by a fire, he ponders what words — or poems — could ever hold value compared to the sacrifice those men made. It concludes with a striking image of one of them, gravely wounded, yet still charging ahead to breach the enemy line.
Line-by-line
Why, hain't I held 'em on my knee? / Didn't I love to see 'em growin',
I set an' look into the blaze / Whose natur', jes' like theirn, keeps climbin',
Wut's words to them whose faith an' truth / On War's red techstone rang true metal,
To him who, deadly hurt, agen / Flashed on afore the charge's thunder,
Tone & mood
The tone is gentle and filled with self-doubt, underpinned by a profound sense of grief that lurks beneath the folksy dialect. Hosea Biglow's straightforward voice prevents the emotion from becoming overly sentimental—he's a man who openly questions grand gestures. By the second stanza, the tenderness shifts into a fiercer, almost defiant energy as the image of the charging soldier emerges.
Symbols & metaphors
- The fire / blaze — The fire in the fireplace reflects the lives of the young soldiers — always rising, always glowing, burning itself out while it shines. This is a classic elegy symbol, but Lowell makes it meaningful by having Hosea sit and *observe* it instead of simply stating the comparison.
- The touchstone ('techstone') — A touchstone is used to check the purity of metal. In this context, war serves as that test, and the nephews 'rang true metal' — they were authentic, not fake. The image subtly pays tribute to them without romanticizing their deaths.
- The bolt of men / lightning image — The charging soldiers are likened to a bolt of lightning, with the dying nephew at its tip. This turns personal sacrifice into a shared power—one man's bravery energizes and guides the entire charge.
- Rhyming / words — Poetry itself symbolizes inadequacy. Hosea 'half despises' himself for writing verse while the men he mourns took action instead of speaking. This self-doubt is key to the poem's honesty.
Historical context
James Russell Lowell lost three nephews in the Civil War: General Charles Russell Lowell (who was killed at Winchester in 1864), Lieutenant James Jackson Lowell (who died at Seven Pines in 1862), and Captain William Lowell Putnam (who fell at Ball's Bluff in 1861). He also mourned Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, who led the renowned Black 54th Massachusetts Infantry and died during the assault on Fort Wagner in 1863. These losses were deeply personal for Lowell; he had seen these young men grow up. The poem appears in *The Biglow Papers, Second Series* (1867), where Lowell employed his fictional Yankee farmer, Hosea Biglow, to reflect on the war with a blend of humor, moral weight, and sorrow. By presenting this elegy in Biglow's dialect, Lowell diminishes the formal distance that Victorian elegy typically kept between a poet and the deceased.
FAQ
The poem mentions three of Lowell's real relatives who lost their lives in the Civil War: General Charles Russell Lowell (Winchester), Lieutenant James Jackson Lowell (Seven Pines), and Captain William Lowell Putnam (Ball's Bluff). Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, who led the 54th Massachusetts and was killed at Fort Wagner, is included in this circle of grief.
Lowell published it in *The Biglow Papers*, featuring his fictional character Hosea Biglow, a straightforward New England farmer. The dialect — 'hain't', 'ez wal', 'jes'' — eliminates poetic formality, making the grief feel raw and personal instead of ceremonial.
Hosea feels a bit ashamed about sitting by the fire writing poetry when he thinks about what his nephews have actually done. It's Lowell pondering whether art holds any true value when set against action and sacrifice — a question that elegists have struggled with for centuries.
It's Hosea's dialect spelling of 'touchstone,' a stone that was traditionally used to check the purity of gold or silver based on the mark it left. Lowell suggests that war served as that test, and these men showed their true worth — 'rang true metal.' It's a subtle yet respectful way of paying tribute to them.
Lowell doesn't mention him directly in these stanzas, but the portrayal of a man who was 'deadly hurt' yet pressed on likely refers to one of the named nephews. This image — running forward despite being fatally wounded — aligns with reports of how several of them met their end.
Lowell likens the charging soldiers to a bolt of lightning, with the wounded soldier at its tip. Just as a lightning bolt is sharpest at its point, this man's bravery energized and directed the entire charge that shattered the Confederate line.
Yes, it serves its purpose even if it doesn't follow traditional forms. It honors the dead, considers their lives, and seeks to understand loss. What sets it apart as an elegy is its use of dialect and its open skepticism about whether poetry can truly capture the essence of those it's remembering.
That some sacrifices are so profound and total that words seem insufficient next to them—and that the most genuine response for a poet is to acknowledge this openly, then attempt to express it. The poem doesn't try to solve the tension between art and action; it embraces it.