A Fragment [Ballad on the American War]
written in 1784
A Fragment [Ballad on the American War] - context Summary
Composed After the American War
Robert Burns’s "A Fragment [Ballad on the American War]"—written in 1784—responds to the recent American War. In a Scots ballad voice, Burns sketches major campaigns and political consequences, naming commanders and tracking the rise and fall of ministers and generals. The poem stitches military episodes to domestic parliamentary turmoil, using satirical narration to register British embarrassment and changing loyalties after the Revolution. Read as a contemporary commentary, it situates Burns among late‑eighteenth‑century debates about empire and leadership rather than as a sentimental ode; its ballad form keeps tone conversational and public-facing.
Read Complete AnalysesWhen Guilford good our pilot stood, An' did our hellim thraw, man, Ae night, at tea, began a plea, Within America, man: Then up they gat the maskin-pat, And in the sea did jaw, man; An' did nae less, in full Congress, Than quite refuse our law, man. Then thro' the lakes Montgomery takes, I wat he was na slaw, man; Down Lowrie's Burn he took a turn, And Carleton did ca', man: But yet, whatreck, he, at Quebec, Montgomery - like did fa', man, Wi' sword in hand, before his band, Amang his en'mies a', man. Poor Tammy Gage within a cage Was kept at Boston-ha', man; Till Willie Howe took o'er the knowe For Philadelphia, man; Wi' sword an' gun he thought a sin Guid Christian bluid to draw, man; But at New York, wi' knife an' fork, Sir Loin he hacked sma', man. Burgoyne gaed up, like spur an' whip, Till Fraser brave did fa', man; Then lost his way, ae misty day, In Saratoga shaw, man. Cornwallis fought as lang's he dought, An' did the Buckskins claw, man; But Clinton's glaive frae rust to save He hung it to the wa', man. Then Montague, an' Guilford too, Began to fear, a fa', man; And Sackville doure, wha stood the stoure, The German chief to thraw, man: For Paddy Burke, like ony Turk, Nae mercy had at a', man; An' Charlie Fox threw by the box, An' lows'd his tinkler jaw, man. Then Rockingham took up the game; Till Death did on him ca', man; When Shelburne meek held up his cheek, Conform to gospel law, man: Saint Stephen's boys, wi' jarring noise, They did his measures thraw, man, For North an' Fox united stocks, An' bore him to the wa', man. Then Clubs an' Hearts were Charlie's cartes, He swept the stakes awa', man, Till the Diamond's Ace, of Indian race, Led him a sair faux pas, man: The Saxon lads, wi' loud placads, On Chatham's boy did ca', man; An' Scotland drew her pipe an' blew, "Up, Willie, waur them a', man!" Behind the throne then Granville's gone, A secret word or twa, man; While slee Dundas arous'd the class Be-north the Roman wa', man: An' Chatham's wraith, in heav'nly graith, (Inspired Bardies saw, man) Wi' kindling eyes, cry'd, 'Willie, rise! Would I hae fear'd them a', man!' But, word an' blow, North, Fox, and Co. Gowff'd Willie like a ba', man, Till Suthron raise, an' coost their claise Behind him in a raw, man: An' Caledon threw by the drone, An' did her whittle draw, man; An' swoor fu' rude, thro' dirt an' blood, To mak it guid in law, man.
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