and from watching Ward, she saw that the pen could serve as a redoubtable weapon. It was true that she couldn’t write laws, but she could still write verse, and this verse could be political, angry, and “manly” in tone, even if she was only a woman.
Cooped up indoors but fully recovered from the birth of her new baby, Anne was ready to launch herself into her new work. The poem she planned was longer than any of her earlier attempts. She would have to chant the lines to herself over and over, storing her ambitious work in her mind, since parchment was so scarce. But faced with the deadening hardship of daily life, nothing was probably more helpful for warding off despair, boredom, and a sense of purposelessness than the endless mental activity of composing, revising, and memorizing. In fact, the process was akin to prayer, just as her father had once taught her.
But unlike male poets of the time, Anne came up with her lines as she rocked her baby to sleep in the middle of the night, as she stirred the soup on the fire, or as she bathed a child’s cut. And so, as she turned her attention to the martial poem she wanted to write, she again decided not to underplay her identity as a woman but to put it to good use.
The idea must have flashed into her mind with the glitter of a gem. The poem would feature two characters: a mother, who represented Old England, and a daughter, who personified New England. Through their dialogue, Anne would find an opportunity to display her impressive knowledge of English history and politics and also fight for the Puritan side of the argument. Old England would wail, and her daughter would try to ease her suffering. But they would also argue—a situation that must have been all too familiar to this headstrong daughter of the stern and traditional Dorothy. Not to mention that she now had three lively girls of her own who must have frequently challenged her rule of the house.
It is true, of course, that Anne’s idea of Old England as New England’s mother was common enough. Her own father had used this figure more than ten years earlier onboard the
Arbella
in “A Humble Request,” when he and the other writers depicted themselves as children of their mother country. Perhaps the most famous example was the English Puritan John Milton. In an essay chastising Charles’s government, Milton evokes a weeping Mother England who bears a strong resemblance to the mother Anne would create only a year or so later. Reflecting on the fact that tens of thousands of colonists had already fled the oppression of the king’s bishops, he wrote,
O if we could but see the shape of our dear mother England, as poets are wont to give a personal form to what they please, how would she appear, think ye, but in a mourning weed, with ashes upon her head, and tears abundantly flowing from her eyes. 23
But Anne would not present Old England in a static or solitary fashion. Instead, “A Dialogue between Old England and New” would read almost like a play. She infused tension, suspense, love, and anger into the story, even as she expressed her own feelings over the looming civil war. It was no accident, for example, that New England utters the initial word of the poem, “Alas,” as she describes her mother’s decrepit condition. Here Anne speaks in the voice of the New World, a vantage point that was impossible for the England-bound Milton to achieve. Old England, Anne declares, is a wrecked old woman bound for damnation unless strong, healthy New England can save her.
Not that Anne wanted England to go up in flames. New England, in Anne’s version, is saddened by her mother’s “ailing” condition and regards it as her duty to help her. Thus the daughter demands a catalog of her mother’s “woes” that she might “sympathize.” Eventually, England confesses that her illness is caused by her “sins”:
. . . the breach of sacred laws.
Idolatry . . .
With foolish superstitious adoration,
Are
Cooped up indoors but fully recovered from the birth of her new baby, Anne was ready to launch herself into her new work. The poem she planned was longer than any of her earlier attempts. She would have to chant the lines to herself over and over, storing her ambitious work in her mind, since parchment was so scarce. But faced with the deadening hardship of daily life, nothing was probably more helpful for warding off despair, boredom, and a sense of purposelessness than the endless mental activity of composing, revising, and memorizing. In fact, the process was akin to prayer, just as her father had once taught her.
But unlike male poets of the time, Anne came up with her lines as she rocked her baby to sleep in the middle of the night, as she stirred the soup on the fire, or as she bathed a child’s cut. And so, as she turned her attention to the martial poem she wanted to write, she again decided not to underplay her identity as a woman but to put it to good use.
The idea must have flashed into her mind with the glitter of a gem. The poem would feature two characters: a mother, who represented Old England, and a daughter, who personified New England. Through their dialogue, Anne would find an opportunity to display her impressive knowledge of English history and politics and also fight for the Puritan side of the argument. Old England would wail, and her daughter would try to ease her suffering. But they would also argue—a situation that must have been all too familiar to this headstrong daughter of the stern and traditional Dorothy. Not to mention that she now had three lively girls of her own who must have frequently challenged her rule of the house.
It is true, of course, that Anne’s idea of Old England as New England’s mother was common enough. Her own father had used this figure more than ten years earlier onboard the
Arbella
in “A Humble Request,” when he and the other writers depicted themselves as children of their mother country. Perhaps the most famous example was the English Puritan John Milton. In an essay chastising Charles’s government, Milton evokes a weeping Mother England who bears a strong resemblance to the mother Anne would create only a year or so later. Reflecting on the fact that tens of thousands of colonists had already fled the oppression of the king’s bishops, he wrote,
O if we could but see the shape of our dear mother England, as poets are wont to give a personal form to what they please, how would she appear, think ye, but in a mourning weed, with ashes upon her head, and tears abundantly flowing from her eyes. 23
But Anne would not present Old England in a static or solitary fashion. Instead, “A Dialogue between Old England and New” would read almost like a play. She infused tension, suspense, love, and anger into the story, even as she expressed her own feelings over the looming civil war. It was no accident, for example, that New England utters the initial word of the poem, “Alas,” as she describes her mother’s decrepit condition. Here Anne speaks in the voice of the New World, a vantage point that was impossible for the England-bound Milton to achieve. Old England, Anne declares, is a wrecked old woman bound for damnation unless strong, healthy New England can save her.
Not that Anne wanted England to go up in flames. New England, in Anne’s version, is saddened by her mother’s “ailing” condition and regards it as her duty to help her. Thus the daughter demands a catalog of her mother’s “woes” that she might “sympathize.” Eventually, England confesses that her illness is caused by her “sins”:
. . . the breach of sacred laws.
Idolatry . . .
With foolish superstitious adoration,
Are
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