1807.
DEAR ROBIN,
The Muse is now a wee at leisure,
An sits her doun wi meikle pleasure,
To skelp ye aff a blaud of rhyme,
As near's she can tae true sublime ;
But here's the rub,—puir poet devils,
We're compass'd roun wi mony evils ;
We jerk oursel's into a fever
Tae gie the warld something clever,
An alter a perhaps we muddle
In vile prosaic stagnant puddle.
For me—I seldom choose a subject,
My rhymes are aft without an object ;
I let the Muse e'en tak her win ;
And dash awa thro thick an thin :
For Method's such a servile creature,
She spurns the wiles o simple nature,
And paces on, wi easy airt,
A lang day's journey frae the heart :—
Sae what comes uppermaist you'll get it,
Be't gude or ill, for you I write it.
How fares my worthy frien, the bard ?
Be peace and honour his reward!
May every ill that gars us fyke,
Bad webs, toom pouches, and sic like,
An ocht that wad his spirit bend,
Be ten miles distant from my friend.
Alas ! this wicked endless war,
Rul'd by some vile malignant star,
Has sunk puir Britain low indeed,
Has robb'd Industry o her bread,
An dasht the sair won cog o crowdie
Frae mony an honest eident body,
While Genius, dying thro neglect,
Sinks doun amid the general wreck.
Just like twa cats tied tail to tail,
They worry at it tooth and nail ;
They girn, they bite in deidly wrath,
An what is't for ? for nocht, in faith !
Wee Lourie Frank[1], wi brazen snout,
Nae doot wad like to scart us out,
For proud John Bull, aye us'd to hone him,
Will no gi'e o'er to spit upon him ;
But Lowrie's rais'd to sic degree,
John wad be wise to let him be,
Else, aiblins, as he's wearin aul,
Frank yet may tear him spawl frae spawl,
For wi the mony chirts he's gotten,
I fear his constitution's rotten.
But while the bullying blades o Europe
Are boxing ither to a syrup,
Let's mind oursel's as weel's we can,
An live in peace, like man and man,
An no cast out and fecht like brutes,
Without a cause for our disputes.
When I read o'er your kind epistle,
I didna dance, nor sing, nor whistle,
But jump'd, and cried, Huzza ! huzza !
Like Robin Roughhead[2] in the play :—
But to be serious—jest aside,
I felt a glow o secret pride,
Thus to be roos'd by ane like you;
Yet doubted if sic praise was due,
Till self thus reason'd in the matter :
Ye ken that Robin scorns to flatter,
And e'er he'd prostitute his quill,
He'd rather burn his rhyming mill—
Enough ! I cried—I've gain'd my end,
Since I hae pleased my worthy friend.
My sangs are now before the warl,
An some may praise, and some may snarl,
They hae their fauts, yet I can tell
Nane sees them clearer, than mysel ;
But still, I think, they, too, inherit,
Amang the dross, some sparks o merit.
Then come, my dear Parnassian brither,
Let's lay our poet heads thegither,
And sing oor ain sweet native scenes,
Our streams, our banks, and rural plains,
Our woods, our shaws, and flow'ry holms,
An mountains clad wi purple blooms,
Wi burnies bickerin doun their braes,
Reflecting back the sunny rays :
Ye've Semple Woods[3], and Calder Glen[4],
And Locherbank[5], sweet fairy den !
Auchenames[6], a glorious theme !
Where Crawfurd[7] lived, of deathless name,
Where Sempill[8] sued his lass to win,
And Nelly[9] rose and let him in.
Whar Habbie Simpson[10] lang did play,
The first o pipers in his day ;
And tho aneath the turf langsyne,
Their sangs and tunes shall never tyne.
Sae, Robin, briskly ply the Muse ;
She warms our hearts, expands our views,
Gars every sordid passion flee,
And waukens every sympathy[11].
Now, wishing Fate may never tax you,
Wi cross, nor loss, to thraw and vex you,
But keep you hale till ninety nine,
Till you and yours in honour shine,
Shall ever be my earnest pray'r,
While I've a frien'ly wish to spare.
Robert Allan, weaver and poet, Kilbarchan, was born at Townfoot there on Friday, 4th November, 1774, the same year of Tannahill's birth. He was the third child of his parents, whose family consisted of ten children,—five sons and five. daughters. He received his education in the Parish School, which was at that time taught by William Manson. Tannahill had several acquaintances in Kilbarchan, among whom were the Allans. Tannahill, however, became more attached to Robert. Allan, who was of the same age, and an admirer of the Muse like himself. The family of the Allans were very respectably brought up, and all the brothers and sisters had very kindly dispositions, and lived affectionately. In all the communications which Tannahill and his poetical and musical friends had with their acquaintances, they always referred to the family as the “Allans”, and not as individuals. Robert Allan was very much respected in the village, and he was one of the founders of the Kilbarchan Library in 1818, which is still flourishing and greatly patronised by the population of the district. Robert Allan had, on several occasions, contributed poetical pieces to the Paisley Burns' Club, which were very much admired by the members; and the Club on 5th February, 1818, in respect of these repeated poetical communications and estimation of his character elected him an honorary member of the Club. Two of these pieces are given in the note at the end of this Epistle. Robert, in his youth, imbibed what were then considered extreme political opinions, and he was ready to advocate them on all occasions. He spoke at the great Reform Meeting held in the Relief Church in 1817, and took a prominent part in the Radical proceedings in 1819 and 1820. In 1819, the Harp of Renfrewshire was published under the editorial supervision of the celebrated William Motherwell. Robert Allan contributed several songs to the volume, and received the special approbation of the editor. In 1836, he published, by subscription, a volume of Poems and Songs; but it did not comprise all his writings, as some of his Songs in the Harp were not printed in the volume. The reception which the publication met with greatly disappointed the Author. He supposed his merits as a Poet bad been overlooked; and, brooding over the disappointment, he became irritable in his temper and gloomy in appearance. Some of his friends had emigrated to America, and succeeded, and he was determined to follow them. As he was in the 67th year of his age, several of his acquaintances remonstrated with him, but without success, and he sailed on 28th April, 1841, from Greenock for New York. All went well until the ship reached the banks of Newfoundland, where the vessel was detained eight days by foggy weather; and the Poet, during that time, caught a cold. He landed on the 1st, and died on the 7th June, 1841.
The Centenary of the birth of Robert Allan of course arrived on 4th November, 1874; and the Kilbarchan folk celebrated it by holding two meetings in that town in honour of the birth of their Bard. There is always something melancholy about such meetings. The volume of Poems and Songs published by the Poet had not been so well received by the public as the author expected. As we have seen, he was disappointed, soured, became irritable and sullen; and left the land of his birth, in his old age; only to droop and die in a foreign country. The one meeting was hold in the Mason Arm's Inn, and the other took the form of a soiree in the Good Templars' Hall. We certainly approve of the latter meeting which was held on temperance principles, where ladies could join, for whom more songs are composed by poets than for the sterner sex.—Ed.
[1] Note by Ramsay.—“A personification of France.”[return]
[2] This is the principal character in the farce of “Fortune's Frolics, or the, Ploughman turned Lord”, written by John Till Allingham, and published in 1799. It is very probable that Tannahill saw the farce acted in the Paisley Theatre, in the companies either of Mr. Pollock or Mr. Moss. It was performed in Kilkenny Theatre, on 24th August, 1810, in which town Moore, the Irish Melodist, as an amateur, acted the part of Robin Roughhead, and Miss Dyke, actress, the part of Miss Nancy. The Melodist and the Actress were afterwards married; the former died in 1840, and the latter in 1865. Although Tannahill wrote several songs to Irish airs he had collected, he never referred to or imitated the Irish Melodist in his array of poets and authors.—Ed.[return]
[3] Note by Ramsay.—“Places in the neighbourhood of Kilbarchan.”
The estate of Castlesemple, under the various proprietors, has always been ornamented with thriving plantations, yielding a constant supply of very valuable timber. The policies of Castlesemple were the most beautiful and extensive in this district of country, and the aristocratically-ancient trees, singly and in clumps, were certainly worthy of the laudation of a poet. The potent house of Sempill were in possession of the estate in 1214, and it descended from generation to generation in that family till 1727, a period of 513 years, when Colonel William M'Dowall acquired it from Hew, 11th Lord Sempill. This Lord Sempill, a Brigadier-General, was appointed Colonel of the Black Watch, or 42nd Foot, on 14th January, 1741, and during his command the regiment was called Lord Sempill's Highlanders. In 1743, the regiment was marched to London, reviewed on 14th May by General Wade, and despatched to Flanders, where they made a gallant defence under their brave Colonel. In 1813, Castlesemple estate passed from the M'Dowalls, who had held it for seventy-two years, into the possession of John Rae or Harvey, and it has continued in that family till the present time.[return]
[4] Calder Glen: this picturesque glen—sometimes called Calderwood Glen—in the romantic parish of Lochwinnoch, with its sylvan scenery is well worth visiting. It was the theme of the poet and American Ornithologist, Alexander Wilson, in his “Calder Banks,” and other pieces, when he lived in the neighbourhood for several years. Tannahill passed it frequently when visiting his relations, the Brodies of Langcraft, and notices Calderwood Glen in his “Jessie, the Flower o Dunblane.”—Ed.[return]
[5] Locherbank, a sweet retreat in the Parish of Kilbarchan,—the cascades on the rivulet of Locher, and scenery on the banks of the stream, are extremely beautiful. Auchinames belonged to the ancient family of the Crawfurds, is also situated in the Parish of Kilbarchan, but has been feued out to various proprietors. See Note to No. 25.—Ed.[return]
[6] The old Barony of Auchinames, belonging to the ancient family of the Crawfurds, is also situated in the Parish of Kilbarchan, but has been feued out to various proprietors.—Ed.[return]
[7] Note by Ramsay.—“William Crawford, ‘whom,’ says Ritson, ‘the pastoral beauties and elegant language of Tweedside,’ and the pathetic tenderness of ‘My dearie, an ye dae,’ will ever place in the first rank of lyric poets. He also wrote ‘The Bush aboon Traquair,’ and some other songs marked C. in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany. He died young, about 1732.”[return]
This is Robert Crawfurd, youngest son of Patrick Crawford of Auchinames by his first marriage. He resided a considerable time in France, and on returning to Scotland was drowned in May, 1733. He was an elegant writer of pastoral poetry, and has found a first place in the ranks of lyric poets.—Ed.
[8] Note by Ramsay.—“Francis Sempill of Belltrees born about 1630, the reputed author of the song here alluded to, and also of ‘Maggie Lauder,’ ‘The Blythsome Bridal,’ and other pieces.”
This was Francis Sempill, one of the hereditary poets of Belltrees, and Sheriff of Renfrewshire. Francis Sempill, the son of Robert Sempill of Belltrees, author of the “Elegy on Habbie Simpson,” was born about 1630, married on 3rd April, 1655, and died suddenly on 12th March, 1682, in his house in Paisley. He was the author of “She raise an loot me in,” and other poems.—Ed.[return]
[9] A Nelly was the heroine of the song, “She raise an loot me in;” but there is no evidence that she was Helen Crawfurd of Auchinames, although Tannahill, according to the tradition of the period, and without weighing dates, says the latter named place was
“Where Sempill sued his lass to win,
And Nelly rose and let him in,”[return]
[10] Note by Ramsay.—“The famous piper of Kilbarchan, on whom Robert Sempill, father of Francis, wrote the well-known Elegy.”
Robert Simpson. alias Habbie Simpson, was a well-known piper, a wandering minstrel, who generally resided in the Parish of Kilbarchan, and attended weddings, merry-makings, and fairs. On the death of this celebrated piper, his fame became more extended from Robert Sempill of Belltrees, eldest son and third child of Sir James Sempill of Belltrees, having written the popular Elegy—“The Life and Death of the Piper of Kilbarchan, or the Epitaph on Habbie Simpson.” Robert Sempill was born in 1599, was educated in the Paisley Grammar School, and matriculated in Glasgow University in the kalends of March, 1613. He succeeded to the estate of Belltrees and other heritable properties on the death of his father, who died in his great lodging or tenement at the head of St. Mirin's Wynd, Paisley, in 1624. In the rude days of the piper, common people with the Christian name of Robert were vulgarly called Hob. Hab, Hobbie and Habbie, according to the district of country in which he resided. In ancient criminal trials, persons were indicted both by their proper and popular names, and the names of “Hob, alias Robert,” frequently occur. Pitcairn, the learned editor of Criminal Trials, in reporting the cases of Robert Eldwalde, alias “Hob the King:” Robert, alias Hob Ormeston ; and Robert, Turnbull, alias “Fabel Hob,” in a note to the first of these cases, explains to his readers that “Hob” is a familiar border abbreviation for Robert, not “Halbert.” The border names of Hob and Hobbie, and the west country softened names of Hab and Habbie, all represent Robert, and not Halbert. Habbie Simpson, under his proper name of Robert Simpson, piper, occasionally appears in the Council books of Paisley for rude manners or piper immorality. His true name would be well known to the Bailies and the whole inhabitants of that town—the population at the time not exceeding 915. Those names have been changed into Bob, Robin, and Rabbie; and our author himself was familiarly called by his companions both “Bob” and “Robin” Tannahill, both in verbal conversation and in written correspondence. The cleverly-written elegy of Robert Sempill brought Robert Simpson, alias Habbie, into greater fame than the gifted poet and famed author.
Note by The Grian Press.—Our publication "Much About Kilmacolm" contains an essay on Habbie Simpson and Sempill's elegaic poem.[return]
[11] At the Paisley Burns' Anniversary Meeting held in 1815, Robert Allan took the advice of Tannahill, and briskly plied the Muse upon the Ale Caup of Scotia's Bard and “the Harp which his infant hand had strung.” The minute of the meeting of the Club on that occasion respecting these subjects, is as follows:—
Paisley, 29th January, 1815.—The “Ale Caup” presented to the Club at the last meeting by Mr. James Armour was produced, handsomely mounted with silver, and the following inscriptions engraven on it:—
BURNS' FAVOURITE CAUP.
Presented to the Paisley Burns' Club, 29th January, 1814,
At their Ninth Anniversary Meeting to Commemorate
the
Birth of the Bard,
By James Armour, brother to the Poet's “ain dear Jean.”
Underneath the above inscription:—
Wi mony a draught o reamin nappy,
Aft Scotia's Bard I've made in happy,
And slackened mony a mashlum bannock
That grac'd the boards o auld Nanse Tannock.
On the reverse side at the top:—
He glowed with all the spirit of the Bard,
Fame, honest fame, his great—his dear reward.
The Caup is composed of twelve staves of Plane and Plum tree wood, bound with six cane hoops, and the bottom of oak. It measures four inches in diameter, and is three and a-half inches deep. The Caup being filled with “nappy ale,” the following song, written for the occasion by Mr. Robert Allan, Kilbarchan, and here printed for the first time, was sung by Mr. Smith immediately before drinking from it, which every one present did, and gave their toast:
—
THE CAUP
Air,—“Lewie Gordon.”
Fill the bicker to the brim
Tae Scotia's Bard, and drink tae him
Wha was the king amang them a;
He's dear to us, tho noo awa.
For the Bruce and Wallace wicht,
And for liberty and richt,
Fu weel cou'd he the whistle blew,
The Bard o Caledonia.
Dear tae bim was Simmer e'en,
Hawthorn shade and valley green,
Rosy brier and birken shaw,—
The pride o Caledonia.
Now again well taste the bree,
Till the drap glance in oor e'e ;
An aye we'll roun the hicker ca
Tae Burns and Caledonia.
The following songs, also written by Mr. Robert Allan, and here printed for the first time, were sung by Mr. Smith:—
THE HARP.
Where is the Harp when the Bard was young,
The Harp that his infant hand bath strung ;
That broke on our ear, from its hallowed cell,
As a thunder peal in the hollow dell,
And in stilly murmurings stole its way,
Like the brook and the breeze of a summer's day ?
Where is the Harp when the Bard was young,
The Harp that his infant hand bath strung ;
That o'er the expanse of ocean swept,
Laugh'd with the gay, with the mournful wept,
And came on us still, in our wandering way,
Like the brook and the breeze of a summer's day?
Where is the Harp when the Bard was young,
The Harp that his infant hand hath strung?
Oh Scotia! list its echoings wild,—
Its chords are torn, and the minstrel child
Is mute ; but his song shall murmur aye
Like the brook and the breeze of a summer's day.
LAMENT O'ER SCOTIA'S BARD.
Shall Scotia lament o'er the Bard she hath lost,
While laurels are blooming around him ?
Can she weep o'er the wreaths that affection hath wove,
And fresh and unfading hath bound him ?
Yes, Scotia may weep ; but the tears she will shed
Are those of a fond loving mother
Who weeps for her son, as she hangs up the Harp
That ne'er shall be strung by another.
But the star of his glory that hallows the dome
Where the echoes yet sweetly are streaming,
Will play round the Harp as to wake it to life,
And brighten her eye with its beaming.
Then, peace to his shade ! in her bosom he rests,
Nor time the fond ties shall e'er sever ;
On her heath blooming hills, and her mountains of storm,
His laurel shall blossom for ever.[return]
[Semple 26]