Robert Burns

And now, directly from the sizzling pages of history, we bring you the life story of yet another sexy Scot. Can you scarcely believe it? Scotland really does breed some fine specimens of the male sex. Sigh. Anyway, the one I am referring to now is none other than Robert Burns, another womanizing Romantic poet (we sure know how to pick 'em, don't we?). The Scots are very serious about ole Rabbie Burns, and you will soon find out why, and maybe join them, and feel a sudden need for haggis (yum yum!).

Robert Burns was born on January 25th, 1759, in Allowy, Ayrshire, Scotland. Lots of A's and Y's. Maybe that's why the Scot's say Aye so much! Hahahahah! Ah, I crack myself up. Anyhow, his parents were poor tenant farmers, and Rabbie was the eldest of seven children. Holy crap that's a lot of kids! So Rabbie spent a lot of time workin' on the farm. But his Dad was one smart cookie, and decided that *gasp* an education was important. Rabbie and his younger brother Gilbert were both taught by a tutor. As a way to escape the drudgery of farm work, Rabbie began writing poetry. So remember kids, hard work+escapism=scottish poetry.

And so, with the beginning of his career as a poet came his career as a ladies man. His very first poem was either called My Handsome Nell or O, once I lov'd a bonnie lass depending on who you ask, and it was written about Rabbie's first love, Nelly Kirkpatrick (awwwww!). But don't get any real romantic ideas about the scoundrel. He is infamous for being very promiscuous. He sired eight (count 'em, eight!) illegitimate children all with different women. He wrote a lot of poetry about sex and his personal encounters, as can be seen in such poems as Nine Inches Will Please a Lady. Naughty naughty! Needless to say, Rabbie's poetry was considered scandalous back in the day, and still retains it's bawdiness even in our free love society. Man, isn't history the best?

So, moving on from that brief side note about sex (not that anyone minded right?), in 1784, Rabbie's Dad died, leaving the family farm to Rabbie and his brother. But was Rabbie interested in grungy old farming? No! Certainly not. He wanted to write, meet women, and move to the West Indies! But his first collection of poems Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect was published, thus dashing his dreams of moving. Oh well. He still had his poetry and women so there was not much to complain about. The poems were a success, and he was thrust into good society.

Somewhere in all this, Rabbie also married, but apparently people like to gloss over that. Yes, he actually did marry, Jean Armour, one of his many mistresses as a matter of fact, in 1788. She had twins. Yeah. That was another reason he stayed in Scotland.

Rabbie eventually settled in Edinburgh, getting a job as a tax collector and wrote a lot. I guess tax collecting stimulates the creative juices. Many of his poems were turned into songs, of which over four hundred survive today. Interesting tidbit, non? In fact, every single one of you not only know a Rabbie song, but sing it every year. (At least those of you who follow the Gregorian calender.) Do you know what it could be? Go on, guess. Still no idea? Oh fine I'll tell you. Auld Lang Syne is a Robert Burns original! Groovy beans, eh?

Rabbie continued writing avidly for the rest of his life, but unfortunately, all that damn farming that we talked about earlier had really taken it out of him. Dear Rabbie departed this earth on July 21st, 1796 of heart disease. He was only 37 years old. They all die young! It is a conspiracy, I swear! This is number three Historical Hottie that had died under the age of fifty. The gods must be jealous of their extreme beauty and talent to take make them bite the dust so early. And if that isn't depressing enough, Rabbie's wife Jean gave birth to his ninth son the same day he died, and consequently died because of it. Talk about tragic. :(

Robert Burns, aside from being incredibly sexy, and apparently quite virile, was also one of the worlds greatest poets, writing mostly in Scottish dialect, which makes his poems really interesting. The Scots love Robert and pay tribute to him by having Burn's Suppers on his birthday, where they read his poetry and consume much haggis. Robert Burns, you as given the Historical Hotties seal of approval, and may your songs continue to be sing by incredibly inebriated people on New Year's Eve. :D

Most of the information in this bio was found at The Life of Robert Burns, just so you know. (This site is crazily in depth) I am not plagerizing! Credit is given where credit is due!

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