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BIRDOFREDOM SAWIN. by James Russell Lowell: Summary, Meaning & Analysis

James Russell Lowell

This monologue is a satirical piece by James Russell Lowell, delivered through a fictional New England soldier named Birdofredom Sawin.

The poem
[Those have not been wanting (as, indeed, when hath Satan been to seek for attorneys?) who have maintained that our late inroad upon Mexico was undertaken not so much for the avenging of any national quarrel, as for the spreading of free institutions and of Protestantism. _Capita vix duabus Anticyris medenda!_ Verily I admire that no pious sergeant among these new Crusaders beheld Martin Luther riding at the front of the host upon a tamed pontifical bull, as, in that former invasion of Mexico, the zealous Gomara (spawn though he were of the Scarlet Woman) was favored with a vision of St. James of Compostella, skewering the infidels upon his apostolical lance. We read, also, that Richard of the lion heart, having gone to Palestine on a similar errand of mercy, was divinely encouraged to cut the throats of such Paynims as refused to swallow the bread of life (doubtless that they might be thereafter incapacitated for swallowing the filthy gobbets of Mahound) by angels of heaven, who cried to the king and his knights,_--Seigneurs, tuez! tuez!_ providentially using the French tongue, as being the only one understood by their auditors. This would argue for the pantoglottism of these celestial intelligences, while, on the other hand, the Devil, _teste_ Cotton Mather, is unversed in certain of the Indian dialects. Yet must he be a semeiologist the most expert, making himself intelligible to every people and kindred by signs; no other discourse, indeed, being needful, than such as the mackerel-fisher holds with his finned quarry, who, if other bait be wanting, can by a bare bit of white rag at the end of a string captivate those foolish fishes. Such piscatorial persuasion is Satan cunning in. Before one he trails a hat and feather, or a bare feather without a hat; before another, a Presidential chair or a tide-waiter's stool, or a pulpit in the city, no matter what. To us, dangling there over our heads, they seem junkets dropped out of the seventh heaven, sops dipped in nectar, but, once in our mouths, they are all one, bits of fuzzy cotton. This, however, by the way. It is time now _revocare gradum_. While so many miracles of this sort, vouched by eye-witnesses, have encouraged the arms of Papists, not to speak of Echetlæus at Marathon and those _Dioscuri_ (whom we must conclude imps of the pit) who sundry times captained the pagan Roman soldiery, it is strange that our first American crusade was not in some such wise also signalized. Yet it is said that the Lord hath manifestly prospered our armies. This opens the question, whether, when our hands are strengthened to make great slaughter of our enemies, it be absolutely and demonstratively certain that this might is added to us from above, or whether some Potentate from an opposite quarter may not have a finger in it, as there are few pies into which his meddling digits are not thrust. Would the Sanctifier and Setter-apart of the seventh day have assisted in a victory gained on the Sabbath, as was one in the late war? Do we not know from Josephus, that, careful of His decree, a certain river in Judaea abstained from flowing on the day of Rest? Or has that day become less an object of His especial care since the year 1697, when so manifest a providence occurred to Mr. William Trowbridge, in answer to whose prayers, when he and all on shipboard with him were starving, a dolphin was sent daily, 'which was enough to serve 'em; only on _Saturdays_ they still catched a couple, and on the _Lord's Days_ they could catch none at all'? Haply they might have been permitted, by way of mortification, to take some few sculpins (those banes of the salt-water angler), which unseemly fish would, moreover, have conveyed to them a symbolical reproof for their breach of the day, being known in the rude dialect of our mariners as _Cape Cod Clergymen_. It has been a refreshment to many nice consciences to know that our Chief Magistrate would not regard with eyes of approval the (by many esteemed) sinful pastime of dancing, and I own myseif to be so far of that mind, that I could not but set my face against this Mexican Polka, though danced to the Presidential piping with a Gubernatorial second. If ever the country should be seized with another such mania _pro propaganda fide_, I think it would be wise to fill our bombshells with alternate copies of the Cambridge Platform and the Thirty-nine Articles, which would produce a mixture of the highest explosive power, and to wrap every one of our cannon-balls in a leaf of the New Testament, the reading of which is denied to those who sit in the darkness of Popery. Those iron evangelists would thus be able to disseminate vital religion and Gospel truth in quarters inaccessible to the ordinary missionary. I have seen lads, unimpregnate with the more sublimated punctiliousness of Walton, secure pickerel, taking their unwary _siesta_ beneath the lily-pads too nigh the surface, with a gun and small shot. Why not, then, since gunpowder was unknown in the time of the Apostles (not to enter here upon the question whether it were discovered before that period by the Chinese), suit our metaphor to the age in which we live, and say _shooters_ as well as _fishers_ of men? I do much fear that we shall be seized now and then with a Protestant fervor, as long as we have neighbor Naboths whose wallowings in Papistical mire excite our horror in exact proportion to the size and desirableness of their vineyards. Yet I rejoice that some earnest Protestants have been made by this war,--I mean those who protested against it. Fewer they were than I could wish, for one might imagine America to have been colonized by a tribe of those nondescript African animals the Aye-Ayes, so difficult a word is _No_ to us all. There is some malformation or defect of the vocal organs, which either prevents our uttering it at all, or gives it so thick a pronunciation as to be unintelligible. A mouth filled with the national pudding, or watering in expectation thereof, is wholly incompetent to this refractory monosyllable. An abject and herpetic Public Opinion is the Pope, the Anti-Christ, for us to protest against _e corde cordium_. And by what College of Cardinals is this our God's-vicar, our binder and looser, elected? Very like, by the sacred conclave of Tag, Rag, and Bobtail, in the gracious atmosphere of the grog-shop. Yet it is of this that we must all be puppets. This thumps the pulpit-cushion, this guides the editor's pen, this wags the senator's tongue. This decides what Scriptures are canonical, and shuffles Christ away into the Apocrypha. According to that sentence fathered upon Solon, [Greek: Onto daemosion kakon erchetai oikad ekasto] This unclean spirit is skilful to assume various shapes. I have known it to enter my own study and nudge my elbow of a Saturday, under the semblance of a wealthy member of my congregation. It were a great blessing, if every particular of what in the sum we call popular sentiment could carry about the name of its manufacturer stamped legibly upon it. I gave a stab under the fifth rib to that pestilent fallacy,--'Our country, right or wrong,'--by tracing its original to a speech of Ensign Cilley at a dinner of the Bungtown Fencibles.--H.W.] No. III

Public domain · sourced from Project Gutenberg

Quick summary
This monologue is a satirical piece by James Russell Lowell, delivered through a fictional New England soldier named Birdofredom Sawin. It critiques the justifications Americans offered for the Mexican-American War (1846–1848). Lowell employs a mix of feigned religious fervor, mock-scholarly Latin phrases, and ludicrous historical analogies to reveal how politicians and religious leaders disguised their land-grabbing imperialism as a noble crusade. The humor lies in the absurdity of the arguments for the war; by simply presenting them in their entirety, Lowell effectively dismantles their credibility.
Themes

Line-by-line

Those have not been wanting (as, indeed, when hath Satan been to seek for attorneys?) who have maintained that our late inroad upon Mexico was undertaken not so much for the avenging of any national quarrel, as for the spreading of free institutions and of Protestantism.
Lowell begins by addressing the main falsehood he aims to examine: that the Mexican-American War was essentially a missionary endeavor. The parenthetical remark — Satan never lacks for lawyers — clearly suggests that those supporting this claim are engaged in morally questionable work. The Latin phrase (*Capita vix duabus Anticyris medenda!* — 'Heads barely curable by two doses of hellebore') indicates that this argument borders on madness.
Verily I admire that no pious sergeant among these new Crusaders beheld Martin Luther riding at the front of the host upon a tamed pontifical bull...
Here, Lowell pokes fun at the age-old practice of soldiers using divine visions to justify their conquests. He draws parallels between the American invaders and medieval Crusaders as well as Spanish conquistadors, suggesting that if the war were genuinely holy, we would have witnessed a Protestant miracle by now. The depiction of Luther riding a 'tamed pontifical bull' is intentionally ridiculous — a Protestant figure taming the very emblem of Catholic power.
We read, also, that Richard of the lion heart, having gone to Palestine on a similar errand of mercy, was divinely encouraged to cut the throats of such Paynims as refused to swallow the bread of life...
Lowell draws numerous historical parallels — like Richard I's Crusade, where angels were said to cry *Seigneurs, tuez! tuez!* (Lords, kill! kill!) in French. The sarcasm is palpable: labeling a massacre as an 'errand of mercy' and pointing out that heaven conveniently spoke the killers' language. The underlying message is that every empire has claimed divine approval, which ultimately means such claims hold no weight.
Yet must he be a semeiologist the most expert, making himself intelligible to every people and kindred by signs...
The Devil, according to Lowell, is the ultimate communicator — he dangles temptations like a hat and feather, a Presidential chair, or a city pulpit in front of each person, tailored to their specific weaknesses. What appears to be a divine reward is really just a baited hook. The subsequent fishing metaphor — catching mackerel with a piece of white rag — simplifies political ambition and religious vanity into the same deceptive trick.
This, however, by the way. It is time now *revocare gradum*. While so many miracles of this sort, vouched by eye-witnesses, have encouraged the arms of Papists...
Lowell pivots (*revocare gradum* = 'to retrace one's steps') to a more pointed theological dilemma: if God blessed American arms, how can we be sure the Devil wasn't involved? He brings up the awkward detail that a significant victory occurred on the Sabbath, then shares a dry anecdote about a dolphin that wouldn’t let itself be caught on Sundays — suggesting that God cares more about the day of rest than which army prevails in a war of conquest.
It has been a refreshment to many nice consciences to know that our Chief Magistrate would not regard with eyes of approval the (by many esteemed) sinful pastime of dancing...
Lowell highlights the hypocrisy: President Polk, who was celebrated for his religious devotion and disdain for dancing, nonetheless took the nation into a brutal war. He dubs the conflict 'the Mexican Polka' — a dance — performed to 'Presidential piping.' The suggestion to pack cannonballs with Bible pages and theological pamphlets serves as a biting satire of missionary imperialism: these iron evangelists will disseminate the Gospel by using it as a weapon.
I do much fear that we shall be seized now and then with a Protestant fervor, as long as we have neighbor Naboths whose wallowings in Papistical mire excite our horror in exact proportion to the size and desirableness of their vineyards.
The Naboth reference is the sharp point in the argument. In the Bible, King Ahab wanted Naboth's vineyard so badly that he had him killed to seize it. Lowell is straightforwardly stating that American 'horror' at Catholic Mexico aligns perfectly with the amount of land Mexico possesses. The true faith here is real estate. He then commends the genuine Protestants of the war — those who opposed it — and expresses regret over how few there were.
An abject and herpetic Public Opinion is the Pope, the Anti-Christ, for us to protest against *e corde cordium*...
The final movement critiques the machinery behind wars: a corrupted public opinion, shaped in taverns and amplified by preachers, editors, and senators. Lowell connects the jingoistic slogan 'Our country, right or wrong' to a minor speech at a fictional dinner, removing any sense of grandeur. He contends that the true tyranny comes not from a foreign king or a Roman pope, but from the mob mentality that no one is willing to challenge.

Tone & mood

The tone is explosively funny — imagine a highly educated person who is also very angry, using ridicule as their main weapon. Lowell maintains an elevated style (with Latin phrases, historical references, and mock-theological arguments) while targeting low issues (like land-grabbing, cowardice, and hypocrisy). It feels like watching someone wield a scalpel to tear down a structure. Beneath the humor lies genuine moral outrage; the laughter keeps the reminder that people suffered and died front and center.

Symbols & metaphors

  • The Mexican PolkaLowell's term for the Mexican-American War. Referring to it as a dance pokes fun at the President's famous piety and stance against dancing, implying that the entire affair was trivial, staged, and orchestrated from a higher authority.
  • Naboth's vineyardA biblical story (1 Kings 21) tells of a king who kills a man to seize his land. Lowell interprets this to suggest that America's 'religious horror' towards Catholic Mexico directly correlates with the amount of Mexican land the U.S. desires — the piety serves as a disguise for theft.
  • The mackerel and the white ragA fishing lure with no actual bait — just a piece of cloth. Lowell uses it to symbolize the hollow temptations Satan presents to ambitious men: titles, offices, pulpits. They may appear to be heavenly gifts, but they turn out to be just 'bits of fuzzy cotton' once you obtain them.
  • Iron evangelists (cannonballs wrapped in Scripture)Lowell's darkly comedic portrayal of missionary imperialism suggests that the Gospel can be spread through force. The absurdity of the image — Bible pages wrapped around artillery — drives home the message. Violence and conversion don’t mix, and ignoring this truth is frankly obscene.
  • Public Opinion as PopeLowell flips the anti-Catholic arguments used by those backing the war. The true infallible authority that Americans submit to isn’t Rome; it’s the mob mentality, stirred up in taverns and pushed by editors and politicians. Describing it as 'herpetic' (diseased, contagious) frames it as something to be isolated rather than followed.
  • The Crusaders' divine visionsEvery conquering army in history has asserted that God was on their side. By documenting these visions — Luther on a bull, St. James piercing infidels, angels shouting *tuez! tuez!* — Lowell demonstrates that this claim is so widespread it loses its significance, revealing that American exceptionalism is merely the latest iteration of a long-standing falsehood.

Historical context

James Russell Lowell published the *Biglow Papers* (First Series, 1848) as a response to the Mexican-American War of 1846–1848. He, along with other New England abolitionists, viewed the conflict as a blatant land grab meant to expand slave territory. The narrative features a rustic Yankee named Hosea Biglow and his friend Birdofredom Sawin, whose letters from the front line reveal the war's harsh realities. The prose prefaces, written in the voice of the self-important Reverend Homer Wilbur (H.W.), showcase Lowell's sharpest satirical work. This third installment specifically critiques the assertion that the war was a Protestant missionary effort — a notion that allowed politicians to disguise imperialism with religious rhetoric. Lowell was part of a tradition of American political satire that traces back to Benjamin Franklin, and his targets (jingoism, manufactured public opinion, the cowardice of 'our country right or wrong') still resonate today.

FAQ

Birdofredom Sawin is a fictional character created by Lowell for the *Biglow Papers*. He’s a naive soldier from New England who joins the Mexican-American War and writes letters home that reveal the harsh truths of the conflict. His name is a play on words — 'Bird of Freedom' (the American eagle) turned into a clumsy everyman. The prose preface is written by the fictional Reverend Homer Wilbur, whose pompous, scholarly style Lowell employs to convey his sharpest satire.

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