his acquaintance and neighborhood. How the gentle man was dressed tradition does not say; but that the ladies were all in their smocks; and one of them happening unluckily to have a smock which was considerably too short to answer all the purposes of that piece of dress, our farmer was so tickled that he involuntarily burst out, with a loud laugh, "Weel luppen, Maggie wi' the short sark!" and recollecting himself, instantly spurred his horse to the top of his speed. I need not mention the universally known fact, that no diabolical power can pursue you beyond the middle of a running stream. Lucky it was for the poor farmer that the river Doon was so near, for notwithstanding the speed of his horse, which was a good one, against he reached the middle of the arch of the bridge, and consequently the middle of the stream, the pursuing, vengeful hags were so close at his heels, that one of them actually sprang to seize him but it was too late; nothing was on her side of the stream but the horse's tail, which immediately gave way at her infernal grip, as if blasted by a stroke of lightning but the farmer was beyond her reach. However, the unsightly, tail-less condition of the vigorous steed was, to the last hour of the noble creature's life, an awful warning to the Carrick farmers, not to stay too late in Ayr Markets. : The last relation I shall give, though equally true, is not so well identified as the two former, with regard to the scene: but as the best authorities give it for Alloway, I shall relate it. On a summer's evening, about the time that nature puts on her sables to mourn the expiry of the cheerful day, a shepherd boy, belonging to a farmer in the immediate neighborhood of Alloway kirk, had just folded his charge, and was returning home. As he passed the kirk, in the adjoining field, he fell in with a crew of men and women, who were busy pulling stems of the plant Ragwort. He observed, that as each person pulled a Ragwort, he or she got astride. of it, and called out, "up, horsie!" on which the Ragwort flew off, like Pegasus, through the air with its rider. The foolish boy likewise pulled his Ragwort, and cried, with the rest, "up, horsie!" and strange to tell, away he flew with the company. The first stage at which the cavalcade stopt, was a merchant's wine cellar in Bordeaux, where, without saying, by your leave, they quaffed away at the best the cellar could afford, until the morning, foe to the imps and works of darkness, threatened to throw light on the matter, and frightened them from their carousals. The poor shepherd lad, being equally a stranger to the scene and the liquor, heedlessly got himself drunk; and when the rest took horse, he fell asleep and was found so next day by some of the people belonging to the merchant. Somebody who understood Scotch, asking him what he was, he said he was such-a-one's herd in Alloway, and by some means or other getting home again, he lived long to tell the world the wondrous tale. I am, &c., &c. R. B. Not till the middle of November 1790 do we meet with any reference to the poem of "Tam O'Shanter." Mrs. Dunlop sent immediate intimation to Burns of her daughter Mrs. Henrie's safe delivery, at Loudon Castle, of a son and heir who was born on the 15th day of that month. The poet in his reply thus remarks :—“I am much flattered by your approbation of my Tam O'Shanter which you expressed in your former letter. I have a copy ready to send you by the first opportunity; it is too heavy to send by post." Thus we see that the poem had been some time in existence, and that a transcript of it, more or less complete, had been communicated to that lady in a now missing letter of prior date. We have no letters of Burns dated in December following, but on 17th January 1791 he seems to have enclosed a copy of this poem to his Edinburgh friend, Wm. Dunbar, Esq., W.S., and requested his strictures on the performance. A week later he enclosed a copy of it in a letter to Alexander Cunningham, in which he refers to it as a poem "just finished-my first essay in the way of tales." (29) TO MRS. DUNLOP OF DUNLOP. (CURRIE, 1800.) ELLISLAND, November, 1790. "As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country." Fate has long owed me a letter of good news from you, in return for the many tidings of sorrow which I have received. In this instance I most cordially obey the apostle-"Rejoice with them that do rejoice" -for me, to sing for joy, is no new thing; but to preach for joy, as I have done in the commencement of this epistle, is a pitch of extravagant rapture to which I never rose before. I read your letter-I literally jumped for joy-How could such a mercurial creature as a poet lumpishly keep his seat on the receipt of the best news from his best friend? I seized my gilt-headed Wangee rod -an instrument indispensably necessary-in my left hand, in the moment of inspiration and rapture; and stride, stride-quick and quicker-out skipt I among the broomy banks of Nith to muse over my joy by retail. To keep within the bounds of prose was impossible. Mrs. Little's is a more elegant,* but not a more sincere compliment to the sweet little fellow, than I, extempore almost, poured out to him in the following verses :— Sweet flow'ret, pledge o' meikle love, And ward o' mony a prayer, What heart o' stane wad thou na move, Sae helpless, sweet, and fair.-See page 17, supra: I am much flattered by your approbation of my Tam O'Shanter, which you express in your former *The milk-maid at Loudon Castle had composed some rhymes on the same occasion which Mrs. Dunlop forwarded to Burns. letter; though, by the bye, you load me in that said letter with accusations heavy and many; to all of which I plead, "not guilty!" not guilty!" Your book is, I hear, on the road to reach me. * As to the printing of poetry, when you prepare it for the press you have only to spell it right, and place the capital letters properly as to the punctuation, the printers do that themselves. I have a copy of Tam O'Shanter ready to send you by the first opportunity; it is too heavy to send by post. I heard of Mr. Corbet lately. He, in consequence of your recommendation, is most zealous to serve me. Please favor me soon with an account of your young folk; if Mrs. H. is recovering, and the young gentleman doing well. R. B. 1791. () TO WILLIAM DUNBAR, ESQ., W.S. (CROMEK, 1808.) ELLISLAND, 17th Jan. 1791. I AM not gone to Elysium, most noble Colonel, but am still here in this sublunary world, serving my God by propagating his image, and honoring my king by begetting him royal subjects. Many happy returns of the season await my friend. * Mrs. Dunlop was then printing for private circulation a few sketches of her own in prose and verse. Few poets would entrust to printers the punctuation of their lines; and neither did Burns do so with his own poetry. Perhaps he reckoned it a matter of indifference how his correspondent's effusions were treated in that respect. One of the general Supervisors of Excise with whom Burns afterwards corresponded. The date and concluding paragraph of this letter were first given in Hogg and Motherwell's edition 1835. The term "noble Colonel" refers to Dunbar's rank in the corps d'esprit called "The Crochallan Fencibles." May the thorns of Care never beset his path! May Peace be an inmate of his bosom, and Rapture a frequent visitor of his soul ! May the bloodhounds of Misfortune never track his steps, nor the screechowl of Sorrow alarm his dwelling! May Enjoyment tell thy hours, and Pleasure number thy days, thou friend of the bard! Blessed be he that blesseth thee, and cursed be he that curseth thee !!! As a further proof that I am still in the land of existence, I send you a poem, the latest I have composed. I have a particular reason for wishing you only to show it to select friends, should you think it worthy a friend's perusal; but if, at your first leisure hour, you will favor me with your opinion of, and strictures on, the performance, it will be an additional obligation on, dear Sir, your deeply indebted humble servant, ROBT. BURNS. (8) TO MR. PETER HILL, BOOKSELLER, EDINBURGH. (CURRIE, 1800.)* ELLISLAND, 17th Jan. 1791. TAKE these three t guineas, and place them over against that damned account of yours, which has gagged my mouth these five or six months! I can as little write good things as write apologies to the man I owe money to. O the supreme curse of making three guineas do the business of five! Not all the labors of Hercules; not all the Hebrews' three centu * The reader, on comparing our text with that of Currie, will see what liberties he took with the original. We are indebted to George Wilson,, Esq., grandson of Mr. Hill, for access to the poet's MS. † In Currie's edition there is here a misprint of "two" for three. The original account between the poet and Peter Hill was lately in the possession of Thomas Thorburn, Esq., of Ryedale, and under date Jan. 20, 1791, Hill credits Burns with a payment of £3 to account, leaving a balance of £3, 78, 5d. |
