The Canongate Burns

by Robert Burns

  Riddell’s radical prose, particularly the essay posted to The Edinburgh Gazetteer by Burns in December 1792, signed under the pen-name Cato is an important document. Due to the closeness of their friendship (see notes to The Whistle) Burns may have had a hand in its composition. If not, he probably agreed wholeheartedly with its sentiments. If he did have a hand in writing it – although he distanced himself from the essay when pleading with Graham of Fintry not to lose his Excise job – then having Riddell’s signature on the letter was an ideal escape if anti-radical spies wanted to trace the author. How compatible Riddell’s is with Burns’s own political values can be seen from the following:

  At a period when the Kingdoms of Europe are asserting their just rights and privelages, and are trampling under their feet religious and civil tyranny; – at a period when Kings are no longer considered as the ‘chara deum soboles’ by a herd of dastardly slaves, but are held in estimation by wise and enlightened people, in proportion as they exert themselves for the general good of the state; and at a period when a Reform of many abuses that have crept into our excellent Constitution, is loudly called for, – I would caution my fellow citizens from running into the other extreme; and beg leave to advise them to draw a line between liberty and licentiousness. The first a blessing that cannot be held in too great estimation – the second a curse that cannot be held in too great detestation…

  … A very great abuse has crept into our Constitution, which has long called for the pruning knife of Reform to lop off – I mean the very numerous unequal representation of the people in the British Parliament. Their intolerable grievances is much more felt than formerly. When the National Debt was comprised within the compass of a nut-shell, our taxes were of course very small and very little felt; but now the case is altered; the people are taxed to the teeth – higher than any nation in Europe is – which taxes are in great measure paid by a class of men, who have comparitively speaking, no more to say in the election of their representatives in Parliament, than an Indian – a Chinese or a Laplander!…

  … The next abuse to be corrected is the abolition of the office of Lord Advocate; and substituting in its place, Grand Juries in every County. – How can the sacred fountains of justice ever flow pure and unadulterated, when so overgrown a power is vested in one person; and that person must be a ministerial tool, removeable from this important office at the breath of the favourite (of the monarch’s) of the day…. And last of all – an abolition of that monstrous abuse of the holy symbols of our sacred religion; – I mean an abolition of the corporation and test acts.

  Now, if the Landed Interest in Scotland will firmly unite in bringing forward a bill to Parliament, to correct these abuses, it will equally rebound to their honour in asking as it will to the glory and honour of the British legislative bodies, in granting redress to a brave people, who have at all times shown their zeal to support their king and Constitution.

  This foresighted democratic statement sets goals far in advance of the reforms achieved by the so-called Great Reform Act of 1832. It appears, in light of the recovered writings of Riddell, that he was a far more important radical figure in the Burns equation than has hitherto been thought.

  It is also, of course, a fact that the poem brilliantly keeps a sceptical detachment of the Foxy poet from his slightly pompous, Right Whig instructor. Burns was never absolutely certain that such ideological Whigs ever quite lived up to their own perhaps somewhat self-indulged ideals. This is particularly true of his complex relationship to the Riddells. Crawford’s (p. 242) commendation of the quality of the English poetry in this satire, especially ll. 1–12, is absolutely correct.

  1 As mentioned in Genesis, x, verse 8–10.

  2 She was the Queen of Assyria who had her husband killed.

  3 A Persian king.

  To Captain Riddell on Returning a Newspaper

  Ellisland, Monday Even:

  First printed by Cromek, 1808.

  Your News and Review, Sir,

  I’ve read through and through, Sir,

  With little admiring or blaming:

  The Papers are barren

  5 Of home-news or foreign

  No murders or rapes worth the naming. —

  Our friends, the Reviewers,

  Those Chippers and Hewers,

  Are judges of Mortar and Stone, Sir;

  10 But of meet or unmeet,

  In a Fabrick complete

  I’ll boldly pronounce they are none, Sir.

  My Goose-quill too rude is

  To tell all your goodness

  15 Bestow’d on your servant, The Poet;

  Would to God I had one

  Like a beam of the Sun,

  And then all the World, should know it!

  Robt. Burns.

  The date of this anecdotal verse to Robert Riddell is not known, but it is certainly from the Ellisland period. Kinsley places this (K527) chronologically in the wrong place, assuming it was composed during the 1795–6 period.

  Reply to Robert Riddell

  Ellisland

  First printed by Scott Douglas, 1876.

  DEAR Sir, at onie time or tide any

  I’d rather sit wi’ you than ride,

  Tho’ ’twere wi’ royal Geordie:

  And trowth your kindness soon and late

  Aft gars me to mysel look blate — oft makes, backward

  THE LORD IN HEAVEN REWARD YE!

  R. Burns.

  Burns wrote this in response to a poetic invitation from Robert Riddell to visit Glenriddell house. In the invitation, Riddell advises Burns not to go on his Excise ride, due to the threatening inclement weather, but visit him and ‘We’ll twa or three leaves fill up with scraps … And spend the day in glee.’ This, like the above, is misplaced chronologically by Kinsley (K529) who puts it in the 1795–6 period.

  On Captain Grose

  Written on an Envelope,

  Enclosing a Letter to Him

  Tune: Sir John Malcolm

  First printed in Currie 1800.

  Ken ye ought o’ Captain Grose? know

  Igo and ago —

  If he’s amang his friends or foes?

  Iram, coram, dago. —

  5 Is he South, or is he North?

  Igo and ago —

  Or drowned in the river Forth?

  Iram, coram, dago. —

  Is he slain by Hieland bodies? Highland

  10 Igo and ago —

  And eaten like a wether haggis? ram’s stomach bag

  Iram, coram, dago. —

  Is he to Abram’s bosom gane? gone

  Igo and ago —

  15 Or haudin Sarah by the wame? holding, belly

  Iram, coram, dago. —

  Where’er he be, the Lord be near him!

  Igo and ago —

  As for the Deil, he daur na steer him, dare not lead

  20 Iram, coram, dago. —

  But please transmit th’ enclosed letter,

  Igo and ago —

  Which will oblige your humble debtor

  Iram, coram, dago. —

  25 So may ye hae auld Stanes in store, have old stones

  Igo and ago —

  The very Stanes that Adam bore; stones

  Iram, coram, dago. —

  So may ye get in glad possession,

  30 Igo and ago —

  The coins o’ Satan’s Coronation!

  Iram, coram, dago. —

  This song on Francis Grose, first printed by Currie 1800, is based on an oyster dredging song Burns knew about from The Firth of Forth, which reads: ‘Ken ye ought o’ Sir John Malcolm? Igo and ago; / If he’s a wise man, I mistak’ him! Iram, coram, dago’ (See Scott Douglas, Vol. III, p. 149). The letter containing the verses was sent to a colleague of Grose in Edinburgh in the Autumn of 1789, written on the inside wrapper to be passed to the antiquarian then in the city on business.

  Elegy on the Late Miss Burnet of Monboddo

  First printed by Currie, 1800.

 
Life ne’er exulted in so rich a prize,

  As Burnet, lovely from her native skies;

  Nor envious Death so triumph’d in a blow,

  As that which laid th’ accomplish’d Burnet low. —

  5 Thy form and mind, sweet Maid, can I forget,

  In richest ore the brightest jewel set!

  In thee high Heaven above was truest shown,

  For by His noblest work the Godhead best is known. —

  In vain ye flaunt in summer’s pride, ye groves;

  10 Thou crystal streamlet with thy flowery shore,

  Ye woodland choir that chaunt your idle loves,

  Ye cease to charm, Eliza is no more. —

  Ye heathy wastes immix’d with reedy fens,

  Ye mossy streams with sedge and rushes stor’d,

  15 Ye rugged cliffs o’erhanging dreary glens,

  To you I fly, ye with my soul accord. —

  Princes whose cumbrous pride was all their worth,

  Shall venal lays their pompous exit hail;

  And thou, sweet Excellence! forsake our earth,

  20 And not a Muse with honest grief bewail!

  We saw thee shine in youth and beauty’s pride

  And Virtue’s light, that beams beyond the spheres;

  But like the sun eclips’d at morning tide,

  Thou left us darkling in a world of tears. —

  25 The Parent’s heart that nestled fond in thee,

  That heart how sunk a prey to grief and care!

  So deckt the woodbine sweet yon aged tree;

  So, rudely ravish’d, left it bleak and bare. —

  The subject of this elegy is Elizabeth Burnet, the daughter of James Burnet, Lord Monboddo. She died of tuberculosis on 17th June, 1790, twenty-five years old. The poet visited her home when he was in Edinburgh and the elegy is not to be surprised at given his description of her in Address to Edinburgh (See our notes for the Address). The poet laboured to complete this work on ‘the amiable and accomplished Miss Burnet’ (Letter 433) and remarked to Mrs Dunlop, ‘Elegy is so exhausted a subject that any new idea on the business is not to be expected’ (Letter 435). Currie’s version of the Elegy was the incomplete one as sent to Alexander Cunningham in Letter 433.

  I Look to the North

  or Out Over the Forth

  First printed in S.M.M., 1796.

  Out over the Forth, I look to the North

  But what is the North, and its Highlands to me;

  The South nor the East, gie ease to my breast, give

  The far foreign land, or the wide rolling sea:

  But I look to the West, when I gae to rest, go

  That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be;

  For far in the West lives he I lo’e best, love

  The man that is dear to my babie and me. —

  This work, with Jacobite connotations, is mentioned by Burns as his own composition in a letter to Alexander Cunningham on 11th March, 1791.

  On Mr. James Gracie

  First printed in McDowall’s Burns in Dumfriesshire, 1870.

  Gracie, thou art a man of worth,

  O be thou Dean for ever!

  May he be damn’d to Hell henceforth,

  Who fauts thy weight or measure! faults

  James Gracie (1756–1814) was a banker and Dean of Guild in Dumfries.

  Thou Gloomy December

  Tune: Thru the Lang Muir

  First printed in S.M.M. 1796.

  Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! once more

  Ance mair I hail thee, wi’ sorrow and care;

  Sad was the parting thou makes me remember;

  Parting wi’ Nancy, Oh ne’er to meet mair! more

  5 Fond lovers’ parting is sweet, painful pleasure,

  Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour,

  But the dire feeling, ‘O farewell for ever!’

  Anguish unmingl’d and agony pure. —

  Wild as the winter now tearing the forest,

  10 Till the last leaf o’ the summer is flown,

  Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom,

  Till my last hope and last comfort is gone:

  Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December,

  Still shall I hail thee wi’ sorrow and care;

  15 For sad was the parting thou makes me remember:

  Parting wi’ Nancy, Oh ne’er to meet mair. —

  This was signed ‘R’ in the S.M.M. It is written for Clarinda, Mrs Agnes McLehose. The two stanzas were sent to her on 27th December, 1791 before she left for Jamaica in late January 1792, hoping to repair her marriage with her estranged husband.

  Saw Ye Bonie Lesley

  Tune: The Collier’s Dochter

  First printed in Thomson’s Select Collection, 1798.

  O saw ye bonie Lesley, pretty

  As she gaed o’er the Border? went

  She’s gane, like Alexander, gone

  To spread her conquests farther.

  5 To see her is to love her,

  And love but her for ever;

  For Nature made her what she is,

  And never made anither. another

  Thou art a queen, fair Lesley,

  10 Thy subjects, we before thee:

  Thou art divine, fair Lesley,

  The hearts o’ men adore thee.

  The Deil he could na skaith thee, not harm

  Or aught that wad belang thee: would belong

  15 He’d look into thy bonie face,

  And say, ‘I canna wrang thee!’ cannot wrong

  The Powers aboon will tent thee, above

  Misfortune sha’ na steer thee; shall not trouble

  Thou ’rt like themsel sae lovely, so

  20 That ill they ’ll ne’er let near thee.

  Return again, fair Lesley,

  Return to Caledonie! Caledonia

  That we may brag we hae a lass have

  There’s nane again sae bonie. — none, so

  This was composed after the poet spent most of a day in the company of Miss Lesley Baillie, her father Robert, a sister and friend, who called to visit the poet in Dumfries as they travelled to England. The poet rode a few miles with them beyond Dumfries and composed this on his return, basing it on an old work beginning with ‘My Bonie Lizie Baillie’ (Letter 505).

  Grim Grizzle

  First printed in Hogg and Motherwell, 1834.

  GRIM Grizzle was a mighty Dame

  Weel kend on Cluden-side: well known

  Grim Grizzle was a mighty Dame

  O’ meikle fame and pride. great

  5 When gentles met in gentle bowers

  And nobles in the ha’, hall

  Grim Grizzle was a mighty Dame,

  The loudest o’ them a’

  Where lawless Riot rag’d the night

  10 And Beauty durst na gang, dared not go

  Grim Grizzle was a mighty Dame

  Wham nae man e’er wad wrang. no, would wrong

  Nor had Grim Grizzle skill alane alone

  What bower and ha’ require;

  15 But she had skill, and meikle skill, much

  In barn and eke in byre. also/even

  Ae day Grim Grizzle walked forth, one

  As she was wont to do,

  Alang the banks o’ Clouden fair, along

  20 Her cattle for to view.

  The cattle shit o’er hill and dale

  As cattle will incline,

  And sair it grieved Grim Grizzle’s heart sore

  Sae muckle muck to tine. so much, lose

  25 And she has ca’d on John o’ Clods called

  Of her herdsmen the chief,

  And she has ca’d on John o’ Clods called

  And tell’d him a’ her grief: —

  ‘Now wae betide thee, John o’ Clods! woe

  30 I gie thee meal and fee, give, work

  And yet sae meikle muck ye tine so much, lose

  Might a’ be gear to me!

  ‘Ye claut my byre, ye sweep my byre, scra
pe/clean

  The like was never seen;

  35 The very chamber I lie in

  Was never half sae clean. so

  ‘Ye ca’ my kye adown the loan call, cattle

  And there they a’ discharge:

  My Tammy’s hat, wig, head and a’

  40 Was never half sae large! so

  ‘But mind my word’s now, John o’ Clods

  And tent me what I say: take heed

  My kye shall shite ere they gae out, cattle, go