Author: Linda Sue Grimes

Edgar Lee Masters’ “Andy the Night-Watch”

Edgar Lee Masters’ “Andy the Night-Watch” remains one of the more pleasant accounts, as Andy reports his simple duties as a Spoon River security guard.

Introduction and Text of “Andy the Night-Watch”

Edgar Lee Masters’ “Andy the Night-Watch” from the American classic Spoon River Anthology features a night watchman who mentions another Spoon River resident Doc Hill in his report.   Andy’s account is straight forward without the innuendos that accompany many of the reports.  Andy is philosophical about his lot, seeing himself in a long line of men who have performed his job of night watchman for Spoon River.

Interestingly, because Andy encounters Doc Hill in his nightly duties, he supports the physician’s claim made in his epitaph that he had gone about Spoon River both night and day caring for the sick.  Andy passes no moral judgment on the doc.  

And Andy reveals no moral turpitude as so many of these characters do. Andy’s apparent guilelessness makes him one of the most appealing characters of the Spoon River citizens.  Most want to excuse their own sins while blaming others for them.

Therefore, Andy’s epitaph surfaces as one of the more pleasant accounts, as he reports the simple duties he performed as a Spoon River security guard.   Andy’s only purpose is to offer a brief report about how he spent his time and to contrast his purpose on earth with his current tranquility, which he seems to appreciate.

Andy the Night-Watch 

In my Spanish cloak,
And old slouch hat,
And overshoes of felt,
And Tyke, my faithful dog,
And my knotted hickory cane,
I slipped about with a bull’s-eye lantern
From door to door on the square,
As the midnight stars wheeled round,
And the bell in the steeple murmured  
From the blowing of the wind;
And the weary steps of old Doc Hill
Sounded like one who walks in sleep,
And a far-off rooster crew.  
And now another is watching Spoon River
As others watched before me.
And here we lie, Doc Hill and I
Where none breaks through and steals,
And no eye needs to guard.

Commentary on “Andy the Night-Watch”

Edgar Lee Masters’ “Andy the Night-Watch” reports his simple duties as a Spoon River security guard and then makes an interesting statement of comparison between his earthly life and his after-life.

First Movement:  A Guard’s Accessories

In my Spanish cloak,
And old slouch hat,
And overshoes of felt,
And Tyke, my faithful dog,
And my knotted hickory cane,

Andy first describes his clothing and accessories, reporting that he wore a cloak which he describes as “Spanish.”  He donned a hat which was of the old and slouch variety. Finally, he wore overshoes made of felt—likely so he could amble about quietly on his nightly duties.

For company and possible security assistance, Andy kept his companion pet dog Tyke along with him.  And he also carried a cane made of “knotted hickory.”  Such are the simple necessities for a night watchman in the small town of Spoon River.  Apparently, there was no need for a weapon other than the hickory cane.  

Second Movement:  A Guard’s Duties

I slipped about with a bull’s-eye lantern
From door to door on the square,
As the midnight stars wheeled round,
And the bell in the steeple murmured  
From the blowing of the wind;

After cataloguing his accessories, Andy then proceeds to report his duties.  But before mentioning his duties, he inserts a further item, a lantern with a bull’s eye, to fill out the list of accessories that he either carried or wore.

Andy describes his movement as “slip[ping] about,” likely indicating that he moved slowly as he checked the status of each door to the businesses and offices in town.  Most nights he was fortunate that not much seemed to be happening, so he was free to notice the “midnight stars” that “wheeled around.”  

He also notes that he listened to “the bell in the steeple,” which he describes as making a murmuring sound as the wind blew past.  Again, Andy is demonstrating a calm, appreciative individual whose demeanor contrasts greatly with so many of the angry, vengeful after-life reporters from the Spoon River Cemetery.

Third Movement:    Old Doc Hill

And the weary steps of old Doc Hill
Sounded like one who walks in sleep,
And a far-off rooster crew.  

It is in the third movement that Andy mentions “old Doc Hill,” whom the reader has previously encountered among these Spoon River after-death reporters.    Andy would hear the doctor’s “weary steps,” and Andy claims that those steps made it seem that the doctor might be walking in his sleep.  Likely, the shuffling sound put Andy in mind of sleep-walkers.

Andy then mentions that he heard a far-off rooster crowing, which suggests that it is close to dawn.  The implication supports Doc Hill’s report that he went about caring for the sick all through the night.

Fourth Movement:   Now Someone Else Guards

And now another is watching Spoon River
As others watched before me.
And here we lie, Doc Hill and I
Where none breaks through and steals,
And no eye needs to guard.

Andy then returns to his present circumstances wherein he, with a touch of melancholy, avers that someone else is now performing his night job of “watching Spoon River.”   And Andy places himself in the long line of history; the new person is watching “as others watched before me,” he philosophically opines.

Both Andy and Doc Hill are now in their graves where no medical attention is required and where no one will break in to steal from rightful owners.  No one needs “to guard” anything in this final resting place.

Andy has successfully compared his earthly duties to his duties in his current circumstance by simply stating the fact that no one ever breaks into things in the after-life world to steal things.  Thus, in that place, it is not necessary to have men who watch the night, which can become a dangerous, crime infested time on earth among the living.

Edgar Lee Masters’ “Doc Hill”

Doc Hill was spurned by his wife and apparently also by his lackluster son.  The sad physician turned to healing the sick to find an outlet for his love and affection.

Introduction and Text of “Doc Hill”

The 13-line epitaph “Doc Hill” from Edgar Lee Masters’ American classic, Spoon River Anthology features the pathetic character of a town doctor who basically lived his life through the people he cared for in his medical practice.  Like many of the other graveyard complaining epitaphs, Doc Hill’s is full of pathos and self-pity.  

But while apparently erasing from memory his own family, the physician does hold special regard for the many mourners who attended his funeral.  He especially entertained deep sorrow, however, for one Spoon River resident, Em Stanton. 

Although the doc does not elaborate upon his relationship with Em Stanton, his reticence allows his audience to imagine the extent that would cause him such sorrow at seeing her standing alone grieving.

Doc Hill 

I went up and down the streets
Here and there by day and night,
Through all hours of the night caring for the poor who were sick.
Do you know why?  
My wife hated me, my son went to the dogs.
And I turned to the people and poured out my love to them.
Sweet it was to see the crowds about the lawns on the day of my funeral,  
And hear them murmur their love and sorrow.
But oh, dear God, my soul trembled, scarcely able
To hold to the railing of the new life
When I saw Em Stanton behind the oak tree
At the grave,
Hiding herself, and her grief!

Commentary on “Doc Hill”

Doc Hill confesses that his attention to his medical practice was only in part to assist the needy; it also assisted him by infusing into his life the love and affection that he failed to find in his own family life.

The dejected Doc Hill harbors a secret that will remain a mystery. Readers are left to imagine the meaning of the implied relationship between the physician and Em Stanton, a woman who secretly visits the gravesite as the doctor’s body is being interred.

First Movement:  The Wages of Altruism?

I went up and down the streets
Here and there by day and night,
Through all hours of the night caring for the poor who were sick.

The doc begins by reporting that he spent most of his time with his patients, most of whom were poor as well as sick.   Doc Hill made his way along the streets of the town during both daylight hours and during the nighttime.  His reason for spending that time away from home was in order to care for sick people, who needed and appreciated him.  

As the doc’s life centered on his profession, he seemingly behaved as a rather altruistic individual.  However, readers become more and more skeptical of the scads of information given out by these Spoon River grave reporters.  

Most of epitaphs include in their reporting complaints offered solely for the purpose of rehabilitating their reputations.  Instead of accepting any fault on their part, they are quick to lay all blame on others for their pathetic lots.  

While Doc Hill has some blame to lay on his wife and his reprobate son, his main issue is that while he was seemingly abandoned and/or mistreated by his own family, the many sick and poor people of the town came to love him for his medical service to them.

Yet, the physician seems to leave open the possibility that his motives were perhaps not as selfless and altruistic as they may seem.  Thus he finds it important to explain his reasoning for giving so much attention to others outside of his home life.

Second Movement:  No Love at Home

Do you know why?  
My wife hated me, my son went to the dogs.
And I turned to the people and poured out my love to them.

Lest one think the doctor was an entirely altruistic workaholic or simply obsessed with his medical practice, he wants to explain that such was not the case.  The doc begins by proffering the question as to why he spent so much time with his ill patients.  

He then reveals “why”:  His wife detested him, and his son felt no better toward his father.  Thus the doc had no family life.  He offers no details about his wife and son, other than that they abandoned him emotionally.

The doctor had to find consolation somewhere so he turned to his profession that involved other people, particularly sick folks, who became appreciative of his services.  However, the doc does not seem to assert that he was merely looking for love for himself. 

Part of his personality seems genuinely caring, although it also offers him an excuse for remaining absent from his home, marriage, and fatherhood.  Likely the doc’s explanation makes him sound more altruistic than one who is expecting attention in return: he was looking for people to whom he could give his love and caring. 

The doc’s medical profession afforded him the opportunity, or perhaps excuse, to spend all of his time away from his own family while attending to others.  Less pathetic  and crass than many of the Spoon River crowd, he, nevertheless, remains one of the forlorn characters as he spins his yarn of sorrow.

Third Movement:   The Return of Love

Sweet it was to see the crowds about the lawns on the day of my funeral,  
And hear them murmur their love and sorrow.

Interestingly, the day’s events of his funeral allow him to revel in the return of the love he had bestowed, for he hears sweet murmurings emanating from the many folks attending the event as they offer their little tributes to the man who tended to their health needs.  Thus in death, he has achieved what he was never able to achieve in life with his own family.  

The summation of caring and affection that showed itself on the day of his funeral seems to make up for the familial affection he had not experienced.   And that lack seems to extend into death, for he mentions the presence of neither his wife nor his son at his funeral.  Readers then may assume that they were not present, or that the doc cared so little for them that he fails to bother to account for their reactions to his death.

Fourth Movement:  A Grieving Paramour?

But oh, dear God, my soul trembled, scarcely able
To hold to the railing of the new life
When I saw Em Stanton behind the oak tree
At the grave,
Hiding herself, and her grief!

However, the doc does reveal a rather mysterious implication about himself when he describes a woman, Em Stanton, whom he observes as she appears to hide “behind the oak tree,” pathetically watching the events at the grave-site.  Em Stanton appears to be assuaging her grief as she hides from the other mourners.  

The observation of Em standing behind a tree apparently grief-stricken shakes the doc so badly that he can hardly hold his soul power together as he tries to “hold to the railing of the new life.”  This extreme reaction does seem to indicate that his relationship with Em Stanton likely indicates a close and deep emotional tie.

The doc’s showering of affection on the townsfolk possibly included a romantic relationship with the woman behind the tree, Em Stanton, a woman who is now left to grieve in hiding.  By extension, readers might wonder if there may be other “Em-Stantons,” who simply failed to appear and mourn as his own family failed to appear.

Edgar Lee Masters’ “Conrad Siever”

Conrad Siever contrasts his feelings for two distinctive segments of his land: the part with the cemetery he finds “wasted”; but he loved the acres that held his apple tree and lovingly nurtured that tree in life and continues to do so even after death. 

Introduction and Text of “Conrad Siever”

The speaker of Edgar Lee Masters’ “Conrad Siever” from Spoon River Anthology is contrasting his feelings for the acres of his property where a cemetery is located with those acres that hold his prized apple tree.    

Siever’s property is mentioned in two other Spoon River poems; in “Hare Drummer,” Hare asks if the young folk “still go to Siever’s / For cider, after school.”  Also in the epitaph,”Amelia Garrick,” Amelia refers to Siever’s woods, “Where the thickets from Siever’s woods / Have crept over.”  Thus, the reader infers that Conrad Siever owned many acres of land.

The structure of this poem presents two movements that basically offer the theme of “not there, but here.” The first movement dramatizes the speaker’s negative or “not there” rubric; he did not love the part of his property that tendered certain features.  

The second movement dramatizes the “but here” or positive part of the construction, which is the section of his land that he loved and attended to in life and seemingly continues to do so in death.

Conrad Siever

Not in that wasted garden
Where bodies are drawn into grass
That feeds no flocks, and into evergreens
That bear no fruit—
There where along the shaded walks
Vain sighs are heard,
And vainer dreams are dreamed
Of close communion with departed souls—
But here under the apple tree
I loved and watched and pruned
With gnarled hands
In the long, long years;
Here under the roots of this northern-spy
To move in the chemic change and circle of life,
Into the soil and into the flesh of the tree,
And into the living epitaphs
Of redder apples!

Commentary on “Conrad Siever”

Conrad Siever loved his apple tree and lovingly nurtured it in life and death.  

First Movement:   Fruitless Evergreens

Not in that wasted garden
Where bodies are drawn into grass
That feeds no flocks, and into evergreens
That bear no fruit—
There where along the shaded walks
Vain sighs are heard,
And vainer dreams are dreamed
Of close communion with departed souls—

Despite his owning considerable property, Siever begins with a negative assertion that he did not take his essential being in “that wasted garden,” where despite the continued interest of other people, there is no food for “flocks” and where fruitless evergreens abide. 

He points out that that wasted garden strikes him as rather useless, where “vain sighs are heard,” and he adds that even “vainer dreams are dreamed.”  He is revealing that the part of  his property that includes a cemetery is where those vain dreamers come to attempt “close communion with departed souls.”

Siever first concentrates on the part of his land that he finds least useful and therefore least important.  By beginning with a sort of condemnation of uselessness, he thereby emphasizes his interest in productive endeavors, which he finds important, much more significant than the land that merely hold the bodies of dead folks.

Second Movement:  Not There, but Here

But here under the apple tree
I loved and watched and pruned
With gnarled hands
In the long, long years;
Here under the roots of this northern-spy
To move in the chemic change and circle of life,
Into the soil and into the flesh of the tree,
And into the living epitaphs
Of redder apples!

Siever has remarked that it is not to those useless parts of his property that he was attached but instead to “here under the apple tree.”  It was in this place that the speaker  afforded his affection for his property; he worked on his apple tree, pruning and tending to its needs, even as his hands became “gnarled,” likely causing pain during his hard labor.  Obviously, Siever’s real love and occupation was for his apple tree; thus, he tended it with great care and affection.

Now Siever is buried under his beloved “northern-spy,” specifically and more importantly, “under the roots.” And he attests that he is still attending to his former occupation.  His spirit is now able to “move in the chemic change and circle of life.” That spirit circulates “into the soil and into the flesh of the tree.”  

Siever dramatically and triumphantly announces that just as when alive he strove to produce better apples, his spirit is now accomplishing the same goal as it pushes itself “into the living epitaphs / Of redder apples!”

Siever has shown that he bestowed his love and attention upon the fertile, apple-growing segment of his land.  Instead of “epitaphs” of dead people, he continues to grow living reports of useful fruit as he continues to pursue “redder apples.”  

He is demonstrating that his loving interest was in useful, productive activity, rather than dreaming and sighing and eternal waiting.  Even in death, his strong spirit continues his dedication to caring for his apple producing tree.