When I was thinking about what carol to share during out history of Christmas carols week, the one that first popped into my thoughts was I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.
I don’t know what it is about this song that has always struck a chord with me, but it has.
I knew it was written by a poet, but I had no idea how the song came to be.
The story of this beloved carol begins with the story of a man who would at one time become known as America’s poet.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) on engraving from 1873
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in 1807 in Portland, Maine. He attended Bowdoin College, which was founded by his grandfather and his father was a trustee, then became a professor there. It was also while there he met Nathaniel Hawthorne, who became a lifelong friend He studied in Europe before returning to America and Harvard College.
He married young, but his first wife, Mary, died of a miscarriage in 1835.
His second wife, Francis (Fanny) Appleton, was not easy for him to catch. In July 1839, he wrote: “Victory hangs doubtful. The lady says she will not! I say she shall! It is not pride, but the madness of passion.” He must have eventually wore down her defenses. On May 10, 1843, after seven years, Longfellow received a letter from Fanny Appleton agreeing to marry him. According to lore, he was too restless to take a carriage and walked ninety minutes to meet her at her house. They wed soon after, and her father purchased the Vassall-Craigie House, built in 1759, as a wedding gift. The house had once served as General George Washington’s headquarters during 1775-1776. Longfellow resided there the remainder of his life.
Fanny and Henry had six children: Charles, Ernest, Fanny (who died in infancy), Alice Mary, Edith, and Anne Allegra.
In July, 1861, Fanny was placing locks of the childrens’ hair into an envelope she intended to seal with hot wax while Henry took a nap. It is uncertain how it happened, but her dress caught fire. Henry awakened from his nap and tried to put out the fire with a rug, but it was too small. He finally stifled the flames with his body, but Fanny was badly burned. She died the next morning. Longfellow had also been burned so badly trying to save her he was unable to attend her funeral. His facial injuries led him to stop shaving and he wore his trademark beard the rest of his life.
The death of his beloved Fanny left him devastated. He found it hard to write for quite some time, consumed by his grief.
In 1863, without permission or blessing from Henry, Charles (who was still in his teens), joined the Union Army, leaving behind a letter that stated he felt it his duty to do what he could for his country. He traveled to Washington D.C., where he sought to enlist as a private with the 1st Massachusetts Artillery. Captain W. H. McCartney, commander of Battery A, wrote to Henry, requesting written permission for Charley to become a soldier. Henry granted the permission, then wrote to his friends Charles Sumner (senator from Massachusetts), John Andrew (governor of Massachusetts), and Edward Dalton (medical inspector of the Sixth Army Corps) to lobby for his son to become an officer. His efforts weren’t entirely necessary as Charley had already impressed his fellow soldiers and superiors with his skills, and on March 27, 1863, he was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the 1st Massachusetts Cavalry, assigned to Company “G.”
Charley fell ill with “camp fever” (some think it may have been typhoid or malaria), and was sent home to recover, missing the Battle of Gettysburg, before he rejoined his unit in August. In November, during the Battle of Mine Run, Charley was shot through the left shoulder, with the bullet exiting under his right shoulder blade. It had traveled across his back and nicked his spine. Charley was carried into New Hope Church in Virginia, then transported to Rapidan River before being taken to Washington D.C., where Henry and Ernest traveled to take care of Charley.
On Christmas Day in 1863, Henry, the widowed father of five living children—the oldest of which had been almost paralyzed as he fought in a war that was tearing the country apart—sought to capture the dynamic and dissonance he felt in his heart and observed in the world around him. As he listened to the church bells in Cambridge ring out, he put pen to paper and wrote “Christmas Bells” a poem first published in February 1865 in Our Young Folks, a magazine published by Ticknor and Fields.
In 1872, English organist John Baptiste Calkin set the poem to music, accompanied by a melody he had previously used. The Calkin version of the carol was long the standard. Other versions have been composed, the most popular being Johnny Marks version in 1956. Bing Crosby recorded the carol using Marks’ melody and verses 1, 2, 6, and 7. The tune Marks composed has received more than 60 commercial recordings, with sales exceeding five million copies.
Longfellow wrote many lyric poems and became the most popular American poet of his day, as well as one lauded overseas. Yet, he was criticized for a writing style that could be too sentimental.
I, for one, am glad he ignored the critics and wrote “Christmas Bells.” It’s a carol that reminds us all to offer “peace on earth, good will to men” with its haunting, heartfelt lyrics.
If you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend watching the newly released movie about this carol and Henry’s story. From Sight & Sound Film, I Heard the Bells is an incredible, heartwarming celebration of love, devotion, and hope.
And enjoy this beautiful version of the song by Rachel Day Hughes who plays Fanny in the movie:
From our home and hearts to yours –
Merry Christmas!
