James Whitcomb Riley - 1913
Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons
I grew up in Indiana and was introduced to James Whitcomb Riley’s poetry at an early age. He was, after all, the ‘Hoosier’ poet. His country style and way of capturing rural life endeared him to many people.
Born in Greenfield, Indiana in 1849, James Whitcomb Riley is said to have loved poetry or rhyming before he learned to read. His first written verses were private valentines to his classmates.
Birthplace, Homes, Pictures of JWR
Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons
Riley was not a good student. He struggled with the structure of school and often dropped out or missed classes. He graduated 8th grade when he was 20 and didn’t further his education. He often said he knew nothing of math, geography, or science.
His mother told him stories that included fairy tale beings such as trolls, giants, and fairies. When Riley needed something to do, his mother encouraged him and his friends to put on plays. Riley wrote the material and they acted out the plays in the back of a grocery store. As they grew older, they named themselves the Adelphiansand graduated to putting on productions in barns to a larger audience.
He drew inspiration for his poetry from his life and the people who influenced him. While Riley’s father was part of the Union Army serving during the Civil War, Riley’s mother took in an orphan, Mary Alice “Allie” Smith. She was the inspiration for one of Riley’s most popular poems, “Little Orphant Annie.” The title was a misprint on the part of the typesetter and was supposed to read “Little Orphant Allie.”
Little Orphant Annie
Little Orphant Annie’s come to our house to stay,
An’ wash the cups an’ saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away,
An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ sweep,
An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her board-an’-keep’
An’ all us other children, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest fun
A-list’nin’ to the witch-tales ‘at Anne tell about,
An’ the Gobble-uns ‘at gits you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!
Riley's Sign Painting Advertisement
Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons
Riley worked at various odd jobs. He sold Bibles, and painted signs on barns. In 1874, he worked at the Greenfield News as an associate editor and submitted some of his poetry. He struggled for years financially until he started going on speaking tours where he would perform his poetry. He was a popular speaker and the demand for his poetry grew. His first book, The Old Swimmin’-Hole and ‘Leven Other Poems was published in 1883. They were stories that harkened back to his childhood and to the stories his mother told him. He went on to publish over 50 volumes of poetry, much of it prized for its small town reflections.
James Whitcomb Riley, holding his dog
Surrounded by children in front of his Indianapolis home.
Wikimedia Commons
For a young man who struggled in school, it was a great honor to have universities teach literature courses studying Riley’s poetry. Several of the universities offered him honorary degrees, the first being Yale in 1902.
From 1901 until his death in 1916, Riley’s health declined. He developed neurasthenia in 1901, a nervous system disorder. He was diagnosed with Bell’s palsy in 1909. His travel was restricted dues to his illnesses. He still wrote poetry but it wasn’t publishable.
Riley Statue by
Sculptor Myra Reynolds
Greenfield, IN
Wikimedia Commons
The nation was shocked that their beloved poet died after suffering a stroke in July 1916. Memorials were made to him. The James Whitcomb Riley Hospital for Children opened in 1924. A memorial foundation purchased his home in Indianapolis and made it into a museum: the James Whitcomb Riley House.
Below are the first stanzas of two of Riley’s popular poems.
The Old Swimmin’ Hole
Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! whare the crick so still and deep
Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep,
And the gurgle of the worter round the drift jest below
Sounded like the laugh of something we onc't ust to know
Before we could remember anything but the eyes
Of the angels lookin' out as we left Paradise;
But the merry days of youth is beyond our controle,
And it's hard to part ferever with the old swimmin'-hole.
When the Frost is on the Punkin
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock,
And the clackin’ of the guineys, and the cluckin’ of the hens,
And the rooster’s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it’s then’s the times a feller is a-feelin’ at his best,
With the risin’ sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.
JWR Complete Works by Pete Unseth
Wikimedia Commons
Have you read any of James Whitcomb Riley’s poems? What do you think of his style? I grew up knowing lines from his work, so reading these always brings a smile and a feeling of familiarity to me. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Nancy J Farrier is an award-winning, best-selling author who lives in Southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert. She loves the Southwest with its interesting historical past. When Nancy isn’t writing, she loves to read, do needlecraft, play with her cats and dog, and spend time with her family. You can read more about Nancy and her books on her website: nancyjfarrier.com.
