
The narrative unfolds in a Dublin street where a violent altercation erupts between an Irish regiment and English cavalry. The conflict begins at dawn and escalates throughout the day, marked by a repetitive chant about "belts." The protagonist recounts the chaos, highlighting the camaraderie and rivalry between the two groups. As tensions rise, the Irish soldiers respond to provocations, leading to a physical confrontation. The atmosphere is charged with bravado, and the participants engage in a mix of bravado and reckless abandon. The protagonist reflects on the events, admitting to a lack of clarity about the details but acknowledging the aftermath—a newspaper article serves as a reminder of the chaos. The police are called to the scene, but their presence does little to quell the violence. The drunkenness of the English soldiers and the indifference of the Irish contribute to the escalating conflict. The situation turns tragic when a soldier is fatally wounded, shifting the mood from playful aggression to somber realization. The protagonist grapples with guilt, as the fun of the brawl transforms into a grim reality. In the aftermath, the participants disperse, each denying responsibility for the death. The protagonist reflects on the futility of the fight and the consequences that follow, including imprisonment for some. The poem concludes with a sense of unresolved tension, as the protagonist remains puzzled by the events that transpired, encapsulated in the refrain about "belts." The work captures themes of camaraderie, violence, and the absurdity of conflict, all set against the backdrop of a lively Dublin street.
By Rudyard Kipling · First published 1935 · Genre: Poetry, Historical Fiction, Military Literature · 668 words
There was a row in Silver Street that's near to Dublin Quay, Between an Irish regiment an' English cavalree; It started at Revelly an' it lasted on till dark: The first man dropped at Harrison's, the last forninst the Park. For it was: -- "Belts, belts, belts, an' that's one for you! " An' it was "Belts, belts, belts, an' that's done for you! " O buckle an' tongue Was the song that we sung From Harrison's down to the Park!
There was a row in Silver Street -- the regiments was out, They called us "Delhi Rebels", an' we answered "Threes about! " That drew them like a hornet's nest -- we met them good an' large, The English at the double an' the Irish at the charge. Then it was: -- "Belts . . .
Belts is listed on Textopian as a poem by Rudyard Kipling, dated 1935 CE.
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Irish · English · regiment · cavalry · conflict · violence · Dublin · Silver Street · military · song · row · humor