[I wrote this story in 1971, when I was eight years old. At the time I was at boarding school in Sussex, so the situation of the toy soldier – who falls out of a window and finds himself alone and far from home – echoes mine. My arrival at the school at the age of seven, from suburban south London, came as a revelation; first because it marked the moment in my life when I was suddenly cut off from my family (apart from my older brother, separated from me by the abyss of one year’s difference in age), and second because the school was in the English countryside, a place I’d never really seen before. Here everything was strange and fascinating, from the beetles in the grass and the skimmers on the surface of the ponds to what I called the ‘barb wire fences’, which enclosed herds of giant parti-coloured animals, wet-nosed and gentle-eyed. I liked to hang from a barb wire fence and bend a living tree branch towards a cow to let it browse on the leaves, proud of my courage in coming so close to such powerful entities. The school grounds seemed vast, a continent containing wonders, such as the derelict swimming pool that had now turned into a marsh as big as an ocean, hidden among twisting rhododendrons and towering pines and bordered by overgrown footpaths at the edges of which lurked pheasants ready to spring out suddenly from under your feet with a bugling shriek that would stop your heart. Like the soldier I wandered through this landscape in search of adventures, friends, and creepy crawlies, and found them all in ample measure, along with the aching homesickness that came to me every night as it came to him.
I had played with toy soldiers at home, of course, but they were made of plastic, not wood. The soldier’s woodenness is lifted from my favourite story at the time, Ursula Moray Williams’s The Little Wooden Horse, which is also echoed in the episode where the soldier swims across the ocean. The opening comes straight from Hans Christian Andersen’s The Steadfast Tin Soldier, though I was determined to give my hero a happy ending – that was my reason for writing it, I think. The Wind in the Willows and The Tale of Mrs Tiggy Winkle can be found here too, as can the verse of Edward Lear, who was responsible for my tendency to use ‘quoth’ in most of my poems. I don’t know where I got the idea for calling the whole thing a ‘history’, but I remember it felt very grown up at the time.
As I wrote, I knew I was writing a story for children, being convinced that a child could do this best; this is why I used the diminutive so often (I thought of the reader as younger than me) and included careful instructions on how to safely cross the road. The Little Toy Soldier was by no means the first story I wrote; I had scrawled others in similar school exercise books, and liked to provide a list of my ‘works’ on the back cover, as well as dividing them up into chapters with proper headings and pagination so I could put a list of contents at the beginning. Signing my name R. W. Maslen was probably inspired by the names C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, my other heroes besides Moray Williams. Books mattered to me more than anything else, except perhaps the toys I used to act out my own fantasies, and I lived in hope of finding a book with the glorious title of The Bodley Head, unaware that this was the name of the company that published two of the Narnia books in hardback. The ultimate Lost Book, I guess.
A few things are worth mentioning before you start reading. I didn’t know the words for certain things, so substituted the nearest equivalent I was aware of: so the soldier’s epaulettes became a row of medals on each shoulder, his plume became a ‘feather’, and for lack of the word ‘tarmac’ I had to say the road he fell asleep on was ‘cobbled’. I also remember being dissatisfied by the claim that a toy could have stopped a truck by rolling under its wheels; but the plot required some sort of heroic act, and this was the one I came up with. It’s funny how the things you remember most clearly, even at this distance of time, are the things you’re not satisfied with.
Here, then, is a window into the world of a small boy in the early seventies. I’ve been drawing pictures for it as a way of practising the craft of illustration. I hope to add more in coming weeks, and will let you know on social media when a new one comes along!]
THE HISTORY OF – THE LITTLE TOY SOLDIER
by R. W. Maslen
IN THE BEGINNING. 1
A little boy was playing with his toy soldiers one day. they were all lined up along the window-sill. The leader was the best of them all, for he had Medals lined along his shoulders, a beautifull black busby and a little feather in the middle. He had a beautiful Red coat as well.
as the boy played it got rather stuffy so he opened the window. he went on playing when by mistake his elbow knocked the cheif over. He rolled over and over till eventually a ghastly thing happened! he rolled right out of the window! Poor little soldier fell what he thought was miles, and very soon he landed with a soft thud on the grass wich lay proped up against the window.
He sat there dazed in a sort of dream for a while till he had recovered slightly from his shock. “oh dear,” he thought. “how on earth shall I get all that way up to my master? oh, well. I had better look on it as luck, for how could I learn anything up there about the world about?” so saying he got to his feet and started walking into a world unknown for human being’s.
***
He walked till his little wooden legs could carry him no longer and then he sat and thought for a longer time than he had known anyone could think for, about the world outside.
- THE LITTLE SOLDIERS FREINDS.
“I must have thought myself to sleep,” said the little soldier, shaking his little head and looking round. “Now I must find some freinds for it would not do to have every one your enemy – oh no!” so he got up from the stone he had been sitting on and looked round.
Soon he caught sight of a hedgehog busily polishing a nutshell. “Pretty shell,” remarked our soldier timidley for he had never seen a hedgehog before. “yes isnt it. its to keep the milk in for my babys!” said the dame, looking pleased as all mothers do when somone has remarked something of theirs is pretty. “excuse me,” said our soldier: “but will you be my friend?” the hedgehog looked surprised.
“why certainly,” she replied. “why should I want to be your enemy, after all?” So they both made a solemn vow that they should stay freinds for ever. They’re parting was rather unhappy, for the little soldier had been telling of his army and been growing prouder and prouder when suddenly he had found himself saying “well I’ll have to be going now.” and saying goodbye and there he was, walking away thinking about anything else but his freind.
he was thinking so deeply that he did not hear the rattle and clatter of a stream in front of him. by the time he looked up it was to late. he tumbled head first into the middle of the stream. He bobbed up and down for a bit, spluttering and Gulping as he went, until he hit something hard. he looked up and saw it was a little bit of driftwood going up-stream with the current. the little wooden soldier climbed up on to it and sank down into a deep sleep on top of it.
- THE LITTLE TOY SWIMS THE OCEAN
When the little soldier woke up he did not know where he was. The sun was shining on his face and there was water all around him. “Now I shall die,” he thought. “After all what could one do, out here, stranded on this bit of wood?” so saying he looked around himself again.
Suddenly he saw far away, the faint glimpse of land. As soon as he sighted it he plunged into the water, little knowing that it was only one of natures cruel Mirages. He swam and swam in that direction. as he did the land came nearer, only to disapear as soon as he thought he was on it’s beaches. “Oh, no, now I really will die!” cried poor little soldier. “Out here, all alone, in the middle of the long stretching Ocean!” But he would not give up yet – not he! He braced himself and started swimming with all his might. He swam, it seemed to him, for hours on end, nonstop. He was so faged out, and yet his little wooden legs still went on going. Strange hazes lifted and fell over the sea. He could no longer feel his legs and arms and yet they went on going. He did not even notice that his paint was slowly losing coulor. He only could see hazy blue, red, green, purple, yellow all the colours of the rainbow in mixed mists, as the sun sank low over the horizon. His eyelids suddenly shut and he fell asleep.
***
A little old woman was sitting on a deck-chair, in the sun. she was on the beach, looking out to sea. Suddenly she saw a little peice of wood on the beach. “That looks as if its Got signs of paint on it!” She said to herself. “I’ll go over and have a look at it.” So she got up off her deckchair and hobbled over to the fragmant. “Ah,” She thought. “It is a toy Soldier! My son would be pleased with this!” So she picked it up and took him to her house. The woman soon came to a neat little cottage with windows deeply set into its walls.
- THE WOMANS SON
As they came into the cottages back yard a dog barked. “Shut up!” Said the old woman shoving a bowl of dog-food under its mouth. toy soldier shivered. It was not the first time he had met a dog and he knew that they play with toy soldiers rather roughly! At first sight of the inside of the hut our hero knew that the boy must be very riatous if you see what I mean. The hall had lots of broken toys lying strewn about it. Soldier shuddered to think that he might become one too, one day.
he shuddered even more to think he would belong to the boy who came galloping down the stairs at the end of the hall!
So, to cheer himself up about it he made up a poem. It went like this: –
***
THE LITTLE SOLDIERS SONG
“How?” quoth the little soldier,
“do I come to be;
in this masters boyhoods
noisy liberty?”
“why?” quoth the little soldier,
“do I have to make do?
Oh! I suppose I really have to
as these toys did too.
“Besides,” quoth the little soldier,
“I’m a soldier to,
and little toy soldiers
simply have to make do!”
***
The little toy soldier by this time was being carried up to a little nursery at the very far end of the cottage. It wasn’t at all a pleasant sight! There was a little stained glass window at the far end of the room looking out onto a pretty little garden with pretty white, red and pink and yellew flowers growing in neatly cut earth beds. at the far end of the garden was a little shed with its doors slightly open. Through them you could see a battered looking tricycle, a few tins and a few rakes and shovels in the far corner. This made the little soldier very homesick – not exactly for his freind the master, but for his home-land. “And now,” Sobbed the toy soldier. “I will never get back! ever!” Suddenly he made up his mind. “I’m going to run away tonight!” he thought to himself. and in the next chapter you will see how he did.
- THE ESCAPE
At last after a few ours the little boy was put to bed. The bad thing was that the boy slept in the nursery! Well, about midnight the little toy got up and crept to the door. Imediatly all the broken toys let up a shout. “THE SOLDIERS ESCAPING!” They screamed as if their lives depended on it. At this the little toy soldier was extremly frightened And made a dash for the door. The boy had rose sleepily from his bed but as soon as he saw our soldier he was on his feet. But as he was so tired he could not run as fast as he meant to. He stumbled after the soldier who by now had reached the stairs at the end of the hall. He bounded down them and flew down the great room. Soon he reached the door but the boy was still hot on his trail! The toy threw open the door and ran up, but the gate out into the world lay locked against him. Yet he had’nt a moment to lose! he reached them but he had not the time to climb over them! He scrambled under the spikes of it quicker than the fastest racehorse. And now he had the Whole countryside before him. he started making his way through the tall meadow grass as quickly as possible but he need not have been so quick for the ugly boy behind him made no attempt to unlock the closed gate but went back sulkily into the house.
- LITTLE SOLDIER SAVES A LIFE.
The little wooden soldier sought rest long but he had to get to his home before evening or he would be completely lost. Although after escaping from the old womans cottage he was very tired, he still groped his way through the grass. It was daytime now, as you have picked up from the last few sentences and the birds were twittering joyfuly in the green birch wood wich rose up in front of the little toy soldier. But he had no thought for all this now – he only thought of sleep.
Soon he came to a long cobbled road and in the middle of it he sank into a deep sleep.
***
As he slept a little girl came skipping down the narrow pavemant wich stretched the length of the road. She looked up and saw the little soldier. She folded up her skipping-rope and stared in amazement. “How could a toy soldier have got there?” She thought to herself. “I had better pick it up or it would get spoiled!” Not looking left or right or right again she walked over the road to where the soldier was lying, and, while she was doing so, a lorry came roaring up the road! Little soldier leapt to his feet and rolled under the lorries rolling wheels. So doing, he stoped the lorrie long eneough as to let the girl run back to safety. But in doing so his little bodie broke in two and the lorry drove on! so the little girl went over to him (this time being more careful) and mended him. As soon as he found he was mended the soldier leapt to his feet and ran of leaving the startled girl behind him.
DANGER! 7/
He ran and ran and ran until he had at last flopped down to the ground to rest. As he lay there he now had a chance to look around. “Gosh!” he thought to himself. “what huge creatures!” (The huge creatures as he called them were really cows.). He got up. all around him was grass And the fence wich he had got under was realy part of a long barb-wire enclosure that ran all the way round the feild he was in. As for the feild itself it was like a world of lazziness excepting the little calfs wich romped about a few yards away. The older cows strolled about chomping grass wich they had pulled up slowly by the roots. Their tails were swishing up and down and now and then a bull snorted. But there was one bull wich thought of more than snorting! He thought of a charge at the little toy soldier! “Oh dear!” thought soldier. “I wonder how fast those creatures kill you? I hope they kill you quickly!” But he had already thought of one thing – and that thing was run! He got up, although his little wooden muscles ached and braced himself for the escape. The bull was already charging, in a few seconds the whole herd of cows would be after him! At last the soldier started to run. As he was young and not as clumsy as the bulls he ran much more faster than them. In fact he ran a bit to fast! He could not stop! He ran on and on, under the fence, up the hill, round and round again on the top and at last he flopped to the ground and forgeting that the fence was made of barb wire and the bulls could not get under it he thought he would be killed. But before long he was fast asleep in his own dreamworld again.
LITTLE SOLDIER GOES HOME. 8/
A beautiful doe with her fawn came upon a little sleeping figure lying in the bracken a few miles away from a feild with a few bulls snorting with anger and their wives. The little dappled fawn sniffed inquisitively at what turned out to be a toy soldier. Its mother nuzzled it gently so that it had to move away. Suddenly the little thing moved and both the deer bounded away through the bracken in a flash. Just then a little hedgehog came scampering along and stared surprisedly at the little toy soldier who now was sitting up with his back against a tree. Suddenly they both recognized each other – the two freinds who had met so long ago! There was great rejoicing between the two of them as soon as they knew they were the friends and little toy soldier was forced to tell his story again and again. very soon the couple of them went trotting through the undergrowth – a very happy pair!
***
By night at last they came to the little broock where so many adventures had first met the little toy. they had a little feast of gooseberry wine in the hedgehogs house and the little soldier met a few of her friends – the mole, the water-rat and the tortoise. The water-rat rowed them safely over to the other side in his little boat and they stayed the rest of their lives in his house – and they may still be there now!
THE END
