Haggai, 3. Expect, 4. Ruhamah, 5. Desire. by James Russell Lowell: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
This poem takes the form of a mock-genealogical document, where Lowell adopts the persona of a dry, pedantic local historian tracing the Wilber family from colonial New England.
The poem
'Here lyes y'e bodye of Mrs. Expect Wilber, Ye crewell salvages they kil'd her Together w'th other Christian soles eleaven, October y'e ix daye, 1707. Y'e stream of Jordan sh' as crost ore And now expeacts me on y'e other shore: I live in hope her soon to join; Her earthlye yeeres were forty and nine.' _From Gravestone in Pekussett, North Parish._ This is unquestionably the same John who afterward (1711) married Tabitha Hagg or Ragg. But if this were the case, she seems to have died early; for only three years after, namely, 1714, we have evidence that he married Winifred, daughter of Lieutenant Tipping. He seems to have been a man of substance, for we find him in 1696 conveying 'one undivided eightieth part of a salt-meadow' in Yabbok, and he commanded a sloop in 1702. Those who doubt the importance of genealogical studies _fuste potius quam argumento erudiendi_. I trace him as far as 1723, and there lose him. In that year he was chosen selectman. No gravestone. Perhaps overthrown when new hearse-house was built, 1802. He was probably the son of John, who came from Bilham Comit. Salop. circa 1642. This first John was a man of considerable importance, being twice mentioned with the honorable prefix of _Mr._ in the town records. Name spelt with two _l-s_. 'Hear lyeth y'e bod [_stone unhappily broken_.] Mr. Ihon Wilber [Esq.] [_I inclose this in brackets as doubtful. To me it seems clear_.] Ob't die [_illegible; looks like xviii_.].... iii [_prob. 1693_.] ... paynt ... deseased seinte: A friend and [fath]er untoe all y'e opreast, Hee gave y'e wicked familists noe reast, When Sat[an bl]ewe his Antinomian blaste. Wee clong to [Willber as a steadf]ast maste. [A]gaynst y'e horrid Qua[kers] ...' It is greatly to be lamented that this curious epitaph is mutilated. It is said that the sacrilegious British soldiers made a target of the stone during the war of Independence. How odious an animosity which pauses not at the grave! How brutal that which spares not the monuments of authentic history! This is not improbably from the pen of Rev. Moody Pyram, who is mentioned by Hubbard as having been noted for a silver vein of poetry. If his papers be still extant, a copy might possibly be recovered.
This poem takes the form of a mock-genealogical document, where Lowell adopts the persona of a dry, pedantic local historian tracing the Wilber family from colonial New England. He includes fake gravestone inscriptions, footnotes, and scholarly asides. The humor lies in the “historian’s” obsession with trivial details—who married whom and a fraction of a salt-meadow—while the real human drama—massacres, early deaths, lost graves—goes almost unnoticed. It’s a deadpan comedy that illustrates how history can bury people under a mountain of paperwork.
Line-by-line
'Here lyes y'e bodye of Mrs. Expect Wilber, / Ye crewell salvages they kil'd her'
'Y'e stream of Jordan sh' as crost ore / And now expeacts me on y'e other shore:'
This is unquestionably the same John who afterward (1711) married / Tabitha Hagg or Ragg.
But if this were the case, she seems to have died early; for only three / years after, namely, 1714, we have evidence that he married Winifred
He seems to have been a man of substance, for we find him in 1696 / conveying 'one undivided eightieth part of a salt-meadow'
I trace him as far as 1723, and there lose him. In that year he was / chosen selectman.
He was probably the son of John, who came from Bilham Comit. Salop. / circa 1642.
'Hee gave y'e wicked familists noe reast, / When Sat[an bl]ewe his Antinomian blaste.'
Tone & mood
The tone is deadpan and comedic, laced with a subtle irony that remains unspoken. The narrator's voice feels earnest, particular, and somewhat pompous — the humor arises from the contrast between his serious scholarly demeanor and the human chaos he describes without awareness. Beneath the humor lies a real sadness: lives distilled into dates, marriages, and mere fragments of salt-meadows.
Symbols & metaphors
- The Jordan River — The traditional Protestant view depicts death as crossing a river into heaven. This idea is reflected in a gravestone inscription, conveying a heartfelt promise of reunion — which is, however, subtly undermined by the husband's later remarriages. The symbol maintains its dignity; the poem simply allows reality to coexist alongside it without any judgment.
- The broken gravestone — The elder John's mutilated stone reflects how fragile historical memory can be. The missing parts of the inscription resemble the gaps in the narrator's understanding, and the use of the stone for target practice by soldiers introduces a sense of violent indifference — history is literally riddled with holes.
- The salt-meadow — Lowell uses one eightieth of a salt meadow as a comic symbol to highlight the absurdity of genealogical 'substance.' It turns a human life into little more than a tiny property record.
- The missing gravestone — John Wilber, the husband of Expect, doesn't have a grave marker—likely toppled for a hearse-house. This absence highlights the poem's deepest irony: the man who vowed to accompany his wife to the other shore has been completely erased from the physical record.
- Archaic spelling — The period orthography ('lyes', 'y'e', 'crewell', 'expeacts') is more than a mere imitation—it adds a layer of distance that makes the people seem genuinely remote while still feeling authentic. These misspellings give a human touch to the stonemasons and scribes, just as they do to those who have passed away.
- The name 'Expect' — Puritan virtue-names like Patience, Prudence, Hope, and Expect were intended to represent a person's aspirations in life. The name Expect takes on a bitter irony: she anticipated her husband's return, and the poem captures the length of time that expectation remained unfulfilled.
Historical context
James Russell Lowell (1819–1891) was a Boston Brahmin poet, critic, and satirist, making him one of the most significant American literary figures of the nineteenth century. This piece reflects a style of his work that employs a comic persona and mock-scholarship to critique New England antiquarianism, a popular interest among the educated classes at the time. During the mid-to-late nineteenth century, genealogical societies and local history publications were thriving, and Lowell was well-acquainted with these trends. The colonial New England backdrop — complete with Puritan virtue-names, Native American raids, and contentious religious sects (like Antinomians, Quakers, and Familists) — is rooted in history. The raid of 1707 aligns with the period of Queen Anne's War (1702–1713), when frontier settlements in Massachusetts faced frequent assaults. Lowell’s satire doesn’t target the historical events themselves but rather the pedantic and emotionally detached manner in which they are recorded and celebrated.
FAQ
It's both, and that's intentional. The piece starts with a heartfelt verse epitaph in rhyming couplets and then transitions into a playful, scholarly footnote style. Lowell is experimenting with the line between poetry and documentation — the 'poem' encompasses the entire work, combining the gravestone inscription with its pedantic commentary. The humor only lands because these two styles contrast with each other.
Yes, this is indeed a genuine Puritan naming tradition. Puritan families often named their children after virtues, biblical concepts, or religious states of mind — names like Patience, Prudence, Mercy, Hope, and even Expect (which is short for Expectation, referring to the hope for salvation). Lowell picked this name partly for the irony: Expect believed her husband would join her in heaven, and the rest of the poem explores how that belief unfolded.
He's poking fun at the New England genealogist type — the amateur historian so fixated on dates, property records, and spelling variations that he entirely overlooks the human stories unfolding around him. The narrator mentions a massacre, two more marriages, and a missing gravestone with the same monotone he uses to describe a piece of salt-meadow. The humor lies in that complete emotional detachment.
The phrase *fuste potius quam argumento erudiendi* translates to 'to be taught by a cudgel rather than by argument.' It expresses a classical sentiment that suggests skeptics of genealogy deserve a beating instead of a reasoned discussion. Lowell uses this line through the narrator to highlight the pompous and sensitive nature of such skeptics—they can't stand anyone questioning the significance of these matters.
Yes, seriously. The Puritan leaders in Massachusetts Bay Colony saw these groups as dangerous heretics. Anne Hutchinson, the most well-known Antinomian, was banished in 1638. Quakers faced whipping, imprisonment, and between 1659 and 1661, four were executed in Boston. The epitaph of elder John Wilber, which commends him for giving "the wicked familists no rest," highlights genuine historical attitudes—making the narrator's unquestioning admiration of it part of the satire.
Queen Anne's War (1702–1713) was the North American front of the War of the Spanish Succession. In New England, it involved frequent raids on frontier settlements carried out by Native American forces allied with the French. The date of 1707 on the epitaph aligns perfectly with this conflict. Lowell's mention of twelve people killed in one raid is historically credible — such large-scale raids were common during this time.
He holds British soldiers from the Revolutionary War responsible for using the stone as a target, and he gives a brief speech about how barbaric it is to desecrate graves. The irony Lowell is highlighting is that the stone commemorates a man who was ruthless toward those with differing religious views. The narrator's outrage feels real but lacks reflection — he fails to see that the man he's lamenting was far from a model of tolerance.
Almost certainly a fictional creation by Lowell. The name itself is amusing — 'Moody' and 'Pyram' together evoke the image of a parody of a serious Puritan preacher. The mention of Hubbard (a real colonial historian, William Hubbard) adds a touch of authenticity, but the detail about the 'silver vein of poetry' and the hope that his papers might still be out there are classic tactics in mock-scholarly writing: crafting a source that you can never actually verify.