Biography of Max Plowman
Born in 1883, Max Plowman became an established journalist and poet before he joined the Territorial Field Service on Christmas Eve in 1914. He was against war, but felt it his duty to join in the service.
After receiving a concussion at Albert, near the Somme battle ground, from a nearby exploding shell, Plowman was sent back to England to recover. There, at Bowhill Auxiliary, he penned two books: "A Lap Full of Seed" (poetry), and" The Right to Life", published anonymously, a protest against war.
Firmly against the continuation of war, he wrote to the adjutant of his batillion, demanding to leave, on the grounds of his dissaproval. After being arrested and confined to his quarters, Plowman recieved a court-martial in 1918, and was, luckily for him, relieved of service, thus avoiding jail.
Plowman then joined the Peace Pledge Union, founded by Dick Shepard, of which he was secretary from 1937 to 1939. Max Plowman published his book, "A Subtalern on the Somme", in the late 1920's, under the pen name Mark VII. Plowman died in 1941, and was buried at the Langham Chuch, in Essex.
This page is based on the copyrighted Wikipedia Max Plowman; it is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. You may redistribute it, verbatim or modified, providing that you comply with the terms of the CC-BY-SA.
Max Plowman Poems
When It's Over
'Young soldier, what will you be When it's all over?' 'I shall get out and across the sea,
I heard them say, "Her hands are hard as stone," And I remembered how she laid for me The road to heaven. They said, "Her hair is grey." Then I remembered how she once had thrown
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light, Thou seemest most charming to my sight; As I gaze upon thee in the sky so high,
General Gordon, The Hero Of Khartoum
Alas! now o'er the civilised world there hangs a gloom For brave General Gordon, that was killed in Khartoum, He was a Christian hero, and a soldier of the Cross, And to England his death will be a very great loss.
A Humble Heroine
'Twas at the Seige of Matagarda, during the Peninsular War, That a Mrs Reston for courage outshone any man there by far; She was the wife of a Scottish soldier in Matagarda Port, And to attend to her husband she there did resort.
The Battle Of Sheriffmuir
'Twas in the year 1715, and on the 10th of November, Which the people of Scotland have cause to remember; On that day the Earl of Mar left Perth bound for Sheriffmuir, At the same time leaving behind a garrison under Colonel Balfour.
The Miraculous Escape Of Robert Allan, T...
'Twas in the year of 1858, and on October the fourteenth day, That a fire broke out in a warehouse, and for hours blazed away; And the warehouse, now destroyed, was occupied by the Messrs R. Wylie, Hill & Co., Situated in Buchanan Street, in the City of Glasgow.
Lines in Defence of the Stage
Good people of high and low degree, I pray ye all be advised by me, And don't believe what the clergy doth say, That by going to the theatre you will be led astray.
The Rebel Surprise Near Tamai
'Twas on the 22nd of March, in the year 1885, That the Arabs rushed like a mountain torrent in full drive, And quickly attacked General M'Neill's transport-zereba, But in a short time they were forced to withdraw.
The First Grenadier of France
'Twas in a certain regiment of French Grenadiers, A touching and beautiful custom was observed many years; Which was meant to commemorate the heroism of a departed comrade, And when the companies assembled for parade,
The Inauguration of the University Colle...
Good people of Dundee, your voices raise, And to Miss Baxter give great praise; Rejoice and sing and dance with glee, Because she has founded a College in Bonnie Dundee.
Adventures of King Robert the Bruce
King Robert the Bruce's deadly enemy, John of Lorn, Joined the English with eight hundred Highlanders one morn, All strong, hardy, and active fearless mountaineers,
I heard them say, "Her hands are hard as stone,"
And I remembered how she laid for me
The road to heaven. They said, "Her hair is grey."
Then I remembered how she once had thrown
Long plaited strands, like cables, into the sea
I battled in -- the salt sea of dismay.
They say, "Her beauty's past." And then I wept,
That these, who should have been in love adept,
Against my font of beauty should blaspheme.