The End of Innocence

by Allegra Jordan

  As he smiled and gave a quick nod of his head to depart, she saw Riley again, and not his son.

  * * *

  She sat in a stuffed high-back chair, looking at the envelopes on the table—one thin and brittle, one thick. It had been so long since she’d received any. She picked up the thin envelope, addressed to her and in Wils’s handwriting.

  From Riley to Helen. I received this on the battlefield. I found him and buried him.

  Madam,

  I beg to inform you of my marriage to my dearest Edith Kinnaird. We have of late received the joyous news announcing an upcoming birth and are delighted. I understand congratulations are in order for you as well, on your marriage to my dear cousin. I pray that we will all meet again at the christening of our much-expected child, and in the meantime wish you all grace and Godspeed.

  With joy,

  Riley

  Behind the letter was a yellowed, wrinkled newspaper page: the kiss from the Harvest Festival, so many years ago.

  Helen blinked back tears but she understood. This was Riley’s gift to his unborn child and to her. He had redeemed himself. Well done, she thought.

  And so she picked up the second envelope. It was different from the others—bulky. The handwriting, while shaky, was unmistakably Wils’s.

  A yellowed satin ribbon fell out, with her pearl ring on it. She broke into fresh tears.

  My darling wife,

  Our German commanders have instructed us to write our last letter to our loved ones. I am doing so, but hope that we will one day sit and toss this note on the fire together. If you are reading this letter, I pray all mercies on your heart and mine.

  At Harvard we were asked to find our futures, and you were mine. You gave me everything. In my death I have asked my mother to provide for you as my equal and her sole heir.

  For the past few weeks I have seen the hollow faces of those who have lost loved ones, and I am reminded of how I felt when Max died. He wrote me a letter—a gift of absolution and well wishes. It released me and was, in death, the kindest thing he could have done.

  I have asked Father Rupert to include your ring in this letter. It is a wondrous pearl—one I kissed many times while waiting for life—and eventually, while waiting for my death. Yet I never wish it to become the pearl of great price, for which you sold everything. I pray your life will be as beautiful as the time you gave me.

  When you feel a warm breeze cross your lips, know that it is from the gate left opened for you to the golden fields of God. There, I once again will await the pleasure of your company. Let us learn to laugh again.

  I love you. And now, my dearest Helen, I release you.

  Wils

  Helen Windship Brooks didn’t know how one changed, but after reading his letter, for the first time in years, she no longer felt seventeen, crushed beneath the weight of grief in her cold room at Longworth Hall. She felt as if Wils had walked through her, and his spirit, cold and eternal, had left again, for another place. Apparently he’d said his good-bye to her years before. She’d just not known it until now.

  She sat back and inhaled deeply, looking at the letter.

  She wanted to kiss his letter. She closed her eyes and held it to her. In her mind she saw his laughing half smile as if it were yesterday that they’d last seen each other.

  She blew her nose, put the letter down, and for the first time again in years, she laughed. Even in her tears, the lightness of laughing felt good, and refreshing. It felt as if at that moment she was finally free to write a hundred bad plays, to visit all sorts of unknown places, and to—to—well, to do whatever she decided she was going to do.

  Instead of a very empty glass, her portion, perhaps, was full. She might even have proof of their marriage after all. If there was a will then perhaps she’d be a countess. That would be fun. She’d have a lawyer check. True she would have no estate or money with it, but things hadn’t changed that much in America. Being a countess, even a penniless one, could have its benefits.

  Her shoulders shook, and, after a while, she found herself giving a good sigh. It was done. They were gone.

  She picked up the phone. “Morris Rabin of Brooklyn, New York. Yes, I’ll wait.”

  She sighed. It was time to make new plans. It was time to begin anew.

  “Hello, Morris. This is Helen Brooks. Yes, it has been too long. Much too long. I hear that young Spencer will be there in a few hours, and before he gets there, I will need you to rewrite a bit of history. It’s about Riley’s women.”

  “Women? What women? Were there any others beside Edith?”

  “Exactly,” she said. “He loved her deeply and welcomed the news of his son.”

  “That’s the truth as I remember it and no one can tell me different,” came his laughing reply. “And that’s all he will ever know, I promise.”

  * * *

  A gentle snow fell outside that Christmas Eve, dusting Harvard Yard. The muddied prints in the grass, the dull gray of the library’s steps, and the grime of the streets disappeared under a fresh, quiet field of white. The snow was undisturbed as Robert and Helen drove up to the church. The students had left for Christmas, and, except for those attending the evening service, Harvard Yard was deserted.

  Robert pulled his car into the Yard, close to the church. As the bell tolled, Helen walked with him slowly up the church steps, careful that he not slip with his weak leg. As they reached the top he removed his hat, offered Helen his arm, and together they entered the church vestibule. The ushers handed them a program and a small candle.

  Tonight the church was warm. Candles lit the arched window above the oak screen, beyond the choir. The windows along the north and south walls sparkled with holly and lit candles. Outside, the snow fell silently onto bare tree limbs.

  The high white wood pews were hung with boughs of green and red velvet ribbons, hemming in the hundreds of congregants who packed the church that evening. As the organist began to play, the choir filed in behind the altar, their faces barely visible.

  The choir sang “Adeste Fideles” while vergers led the Reverend Sperry and President Lowell in a processional down the long aisle for the evening’s service of carols and scriptures. It was a lovely church, and a lovely service, Helen thought.

  At the behest of the students of the Phillips Brooks House, the choir’s final song that Christmas Eve was “Silent Night,” sung in both German and English. The students, still unhappy that they had to compromise with two memorials, thought the song should commemorate the Christmas truce during the first year of the Great War.

  As the lights dimmed in the church, the robed choir emerged from behind the altar and filed into the church’s aisles. They took a flame from the altar and passed the candle’s flame from person to person, illuminating the dark room with flecks of light. Their candles cast friendly shadows in the December darkness. The light multiplied amid the music of the congregation.

  She looked over at the names on the Latin plaque, dimly lit by the choir members’ candles. Those men were now gone, returned to their immutable field of play. The war, for them—and now for her—was finally over. She looked at Wils’s name and whispered, “I love you. And I release you.”

  She took a deep breath and bowed her head with the members of the congregation.

  Reverend Sperry stood and, in the candlelight of the church, held up his hands in blessing. He released them to the Christmas night, saying,

  “As the Psalmist wrote:

  “‘Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me, all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’

  “And now may God’s blessings flow to you this Christmas night, and forever. Amen.”

  Afterword

  The End of Innocence began as a story about the building of Harvard’s Memorial Church. It is ultimately a story about abandonment and reconciliation, lov
e and hope lost and found.

  When we face a tragic loss, we feel for a while that we are living in a bizarre unreality. We experience grief and guilt. Guilt may be intense or light, deserved or undeserved. Both grief and guilt color our impression of who we are, what we are capable of doing, and how we will go on with our lives.

  We may have no choices about these undesirable aspects of life. They find us. But we do have choices about who we become given the new reality.

  I grew up in a community that was divided on how to think about healing tragic losses. Some people I looked up to valued loyalty to the past as the measure of a good heart. They did not have a good plan for living into a healthy future. Others I esteemed insisted on moving forward. Their positive vision failed to reckon with the high cost of wounded memories. Each side lived with its own partial solution to what are now generational wounds.

  I faced a terrible tragedy when one friend murdered another. I saw two paths forward, neither of which I could wholly embrace. Neither was complete.

  What a refreshing thing, then, to walk into Harvard Yard one Sunday in 1991 and hear about the Memorial Church’s approach to its own tragic loss.

  This is a work of fiction, yet it has some basis in fact. In 1991 Harvard University’s Reverend Peter J. Gomes delivered a sermon entitled “The Courage to Remember.”1 It points to a path to restore connection and to heal wounded memory when a community has endured a tragic loss at the hands of a very real enemy. Here is a portion of what he said:

  Over on the North Wall, in the far back is a plaque in Latin, which most of you will be unable to read. In translation it says this, “Harvard University has not forgotten its sons, who under opposite colors also gave their lives in the Great War.” And then there are listed four German members of the University who died in the service of the Kaiser in the First World War. This is one of the more extraordinary memorials in this church. You will notice that it is separated by a vast acreage from the memorial to the war dead of the first War in the Memorial Room. This was a controversial matter in 1932 when this church was built. And the University authorities said that they could not in good conscience include the war dead of the enemy in the same place as the war dead of the Allies. And it was my predecessor, the Chairman of the Board of Preachers, Willard Sperry, who with his colleagues said this is wrong. “We cannot contravene the President and Fellows of Harvard College, who are we against them?” But we could improve upon their narrow vision and in this church we shall remember them. And we did and we do and there they are. A reminder of the fact that humanity transcends the sides and there are no victors ultimately; there are only those to be commended to God.

  This sermon became the basis for The End of Innocence.

  I have now traveled around our world, collecting stories of individuals and communities that approach tragic loss in healthy ways. As Seamus Heaney poignantly said, it’s most accurate to affirm both the marvelous of life as well as its murderous.

  Thankfully, I have found this approach is not as rare as I had experienced growing up. I’ve found examples in the Americas, Europe, Africa, Asia, and Australia. This, as Copeland would say, “is an encouraging fact!”

  1. Peter J. Gomes, “The Courage to Remember,” November 10, 1991. Copyright President and Fellows of Harvard University.

  Reading Group Guide

  1.In the beginning of the novel, Professor Copeland states, “There is loss in this world, and we shall feel it, if not today, then tomorrow, or the week after that… But there is also something equal to loss that you must not forget. There is an irrepressible renewal of life that we can no more stop than blot out the sun. This is a good and encouraging thought.” Do you believe Copeland’s point of view that this is encouraging? Discuss how this theme emerges throughout the novel.

  2.Riley is a handsome British playboy. Many people find this type of young man very charming. Why? What are his redeeming features?

  3.What does Helen find so lovely and refreshing in Wils Brandl? What does Wils find so attractive in Helen? What do the two characters have in common? How are they different?

  4.Wils, Helen, and Professor Copeland believe in the power of poetry to release energy that can heal the soul. Has this been your experience with poetry? If so, what poets or poems have you found especially healing?

  5.As a German who loves America and has British relatives, Wils must decide whether to fight for his country in World War I against classmates and relatives or forgo his homeland and family to be with his beloved Helen. What are your thoughts on how he handled his divided loyalties? Would you have made the same choices? If we have conflicting loyalties, what are helpful ways to resolve them?

  6.Have you ever had a relationship with someone others would consider “the enemy”? How did you handle this response from others? What were the challenges and advantages of such a relationship?

  7.In the early part of the twentieth century, mail in Boston (and America) was routinely searched for obscene materials (like birth control and information about contraception) and its sender punished. How is America different today regarding censorship and privacy? Is this a good or a bad thing?

  8.Wils and Helen both have experiences being treated as outsiders at Harvard even though they seem to “have it all.” Have you ever been an outsider? What helpful actions did people take that supported you during this vulnerable time?

  9.Helen’s reaction to the loss of Wils plays a significant role in Part III. Have you ever experienced deep grief? How was your experience similar to, or different from, Helen’s? What approach or mind-set helped to heal your heart?

  10.If you were President Lowell of Harvard, would you have accepted or refused a memorial that included America’s World War I enemies? Why?

  11.The Christmas hymn “Silent Night” was sung at the Christmas Truce of 1914 in both German and English. Some call that moment the last gasp of innocence in the world—when a war can be called off by a song. Is this true? Where have you seen innocence and beauty interrupt either physical violence (such as a war) or emotional violence?

  Author Q&A

  1.The idea behind your novel is based on a real and controversial WWI memorial plaque at Harvard University. Can you tell us about the history of that plaque? How and why did it inspire you to write this book?

  The Harvard Memorial Church plays a central role in Harvard Yard. Commencement occurs on its steps and Martin Luther King Jr., Oprah, Bono, and many others have spoken from its steps or pulpit. It’s also Harvard’s place to honor its students and faculty who died in wars since WWI. As you enter the church’s sanctuary, to the left in the shadows, you see a Latin plaque commemorating Harvard’s students who fought for the Germans in World War I. It’s about as far as possible from the memorial to the Americans and their allies. When Harvard completed its Memorial Church in 1932, its president had no intention of mentioning its four German soldiers. He thought a war memorial should distinguish fighting for good causes from fighting for bad ones. Harvard’s preacher disagreed, saying that in a church there are “no victors ultimately…only people to be commended to God.” People have debated the plaque’s presence since then and to this day, it represents the controversy of compromise and divided loyalties.

  Why did this inspire me? I grew up in the American South, a place also known for its divided loyalties. I experienced profound tragedy in college when four people close to me passed away, one in a rather violent way. I was unable to understand what to do with this trauma until I saw this plaque, which made me realize that while we can’t change the past, we can build a better, more hopeful future. We can address wounded memories in positive ways. And we must do both. The Harvard plaque isn’t perfect but is worth celebrating for what it accomplishes.

  2.Are any of the characters and events in your story real or based on real people and events?

  The novel follows historical facts wherever possible, tho
ugh the timing of some events has been modified to fit within the book’s chronology. One thing that is as accurate as possible is the part about the Christmas Truce of 1914. That is a situation we read about and say, “Can it be true? Did soldiers really stop a war by singing ‘Silent Night’?” Yes, it’s a wonderful event that actually happened. I wanted to be as careful and well-researched as possible on that topic because it’s such a miracle. In the early days of this novel, I also spent many hours in the Harvard archives learning about key people in this story. President Lowell, German Professor Kuno Francke, and Professor C. T. Copeland are based on real people. Copeland’s letters from the front lines of World War I are available and some reprinted here. And of course the Memorial Church plaque is there in the shadows for all to see.

  3.What research or preparation did you engage in before writing The End of Innocence?

  Believe it or not, from start to finish the novel took twenty-one years to develop, and deep research alongside leading experts was conducted at every stage. Good historical fiction writing is like making maple syrup. A lot of time and effort go into producing just a few golden drops. But for the storyteller, it’s a wonderful time full of great promise: What facts will shape the river of this narrative? I visited historical locations in the book, spent time at libraries, read histories, pondered military atlases of major battles, cataloged flora and fauna, and fell in love with all sorts of subjects along the way: architecture, period clothing, war poetry, great issues of the day in early twentieth-century America. By the time I was writing, I was working at the University of Texas at Austin alongside a number of prominent historians in law, military affairs, philosophy, poetry, and political science. They kindly reviewed my work or informed me about theirs.

  4.Some of the main characters are from a wealthy or aristocratic class that all but disappeared after WWI. How do you think the war changed this and why?