Allan Ramsay Part 3

Little promise was visible in that piece of future excellence, yet within eighteen months he had written the _Elegy on Maggy Johnston_, to which the critics of the Easy Club gave unstinted praise. For humorous description of the convivial habits of the day, and graphic word-painting, the poem is exceedingly happy. But alas! judged by our latter-day standard of refinement, good taste, and morality, it is _caviare_ to the general. Only to antiquarians and students of by-past customs do its allusions contain much that is either interesting or edifying.

To follow Ramsay's poetic development through all his earlier pieces would simply exhaust the interest of the reader. Suffice it to say, that, at the request of the Easy Club, he wrote an Elegy on the death of Dr. Pitcairn in 1713, but the poem contained so many political references and satirical quips that he omitted it from the collected edition of his works in 1721. Pitcairn was a sort of Scottish Voltaire, a man far in advance of his time, who paid in popular suspicion and reprobation for his liberality and tolerance. What Robert Chambers remarks of him is well within the facts of the case. 'His sentiments and opinions on various subjects accord with the most enlightened views of the present day, and present a very striking and remarkable contrast to the ignorance and prejudice with which he was surrounded. Fanatics and bigots he detested, and by fanatics and bigots, as a matter of course, he was abused and calumniated. He was accused of being an atheist, a deist, a mocker and reviler of religion, ... _and one who was twice drunk every day_.' Ramsay, in his _Elegy_, reb.u.t.ted those grossly malevolent falsehoods, not only clearing the memory of his patron from such foul dishonour, but with bitingly sarcastic humour he turned the tables on the calumniators, by showing, over their action in connection with the Union, who in reality were the traitors.

To the instigation of the Easy Club we also owe the piece on _The Qualifications of a Gentleman_, published in 1715, subsequent to a debate in the Society on the subject. Ramsay versified the arguments used by the various speakers, executing the task in a manner at once so graceful and witty that the Club formally declared him to be 'a gentleman by merit.' Only a periphrastic method of signifying their approbation of his work was this, and did not imply any reflection upon his birth, as might at first glance be supposed. For in the concluding lines of the poem Ramsay, with his genial _bonhomie_ and humour had said--

'Yet that we more good humour might display, We frankly turned the vote another way; And in each thing we common topics shun, So the great prize nor birth nor riches won.

The vote was carried thus:--that easy he Who should three years a social fellow be, And to our Easy Club give no offence, After triennial trial, should commence A gentleman; which gives as just a claim To that great t.i.tle, as the blast of fame Can give to those who tread in human gore.'

In 1715, also, he amused the members of the Club, and after them the wits of Edinburgh, with some lines on the current predictions regarding _The Great Eclipse of the Sun_, foretold to take place during April 1715. The following picture, descriptive of the awe and terror produced on ignorant minds and on the brute creation by the occurrence of the eclipse, is as pithily effective in its simplicity and fidelity to life and nature as anything in Crabbe's _Tales in Verse_ or Shenstone's _Schoolmistress_--

'When this strange darkness overshades the plains, 'Twill give an odd surprise to unwarned swains; Plain honest hinds, who do not know the cause, Nor know of orbs, their motions or their laws, Will from the half-ploughed furrows homeward bend In dire confusion, judging that the end Of time approacheth; thus possessed with fear, They'll think the gen'ral conflagration near.

The traveller, benighted on the road, Will turn devout, and supplicate his G.o.d.

c.o.c.ks with their careful mates and younger fry, As if 'twere evening, to their roosts will fly.

The horned cattle will forget to feed, And come home lowing from the gra.s.sy mead.

Each bird of day will to his nest repair, And leave to bats and owls the dusky air; The lark and little robin's softer lay Will not be heard till the return of day.'

The years 1715-16 were evidently periods of great activity on Ramsay's part, for at least five other notable productions of his pen are to be a.s.signed to that date. To him the revelation of his life's _metier_ had at last come, and his enthusiasm in its prosecution was intense.

Henceforward poetry was to represent to him the supreme aim of existence. But like the canny Scot he was, he preferred to regard its emoluments as a crutch rather than a staff; nay, on the other hand, the determination to discharge his daily duties in his trade, as he executed his literary labours, _con amore_, seems to have been ever present with him. On this point, and referring to his dual pursuits as a wigmaker and a poet, he writes to his friend Arbuckle--

'I theek the out, and line the inside Of mony a douce and witty pash, And baith ways gather in the cash.

Contented I have sic a skair, As does my business to a hair; And fain would prove to ilka Scot, That pourt.i.th's no the poet's lot.'

During the years in question Ramsay produced in rapid succession his poem _On Wit_, the Club being again responsible for this clever satire; and also two humorous _Elegies_, one on John Cowper, the Kirk-Treasurer's-Man, whose official oversight of the _nymphes de pave_ furnished the poet with a rollickingly ludicrous theme, of which he made the most; the other, an _Elegy on Lucky Wood_, alewife in the Canongate, also gave Ramsay full scope for the exercise of that broad Rabelaisian humour, of his possession of which there was now no longer to be any doubt.

Finally, in 1716, he achieved his great success, which stamped him as unquestionably one of the greatest delineators that had as yet appeared, of rural Scottish life amongst the humbler cla.s.ses. As is well known, a fragment is in existence consisting of one canto of a poem ent.i.tled _Christ's Kirk on the Green_. Tradition and internal evidence alike point to King James I. as the author. The theme is the description of a brawl at a country wedding, which breaks out just as the dancing was commencing. 'The king,' says Ramsay, 'having painted the rustic squabble with an uncommon spirit, in a most ludicrous manner, in a stanza of verse, the most difficult to keep the sense complete, as he had done, without being forced to bring in words for crambo's sake where they return so frequently, I have presumed to imitate His Majesty in continuing the laughable scene. Ambitious to imitate so great an original, I put a stop to the war, called a congress, and made them sign a peace, that the world might have their picture in the more agreeable hours of drinking, dancing, and singing. The following cantos were written, the one in 1715 (O.S. corresponding to January 1716), the other in 1718, about three hundred years after the first. Let no worthy poet despair of immortality,--good sense will always be the same in spite of the revolutions of fas.h.i.+on and the change of language.'

The task was no easy one, but Ramsay succeeded with remarkable skill in dovetailing the second and third cantos into the first, so that they read as the production of one mind. For faithful portraiture of Scottish rural manners, for a fidelity, even in the minutest details, recalling Teniers and his vividly realistic pictures of Dutch rustic life, the cantos are unrivalled in Scottish literature, save by the scenes of his own _Gentle Shepherd_.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Preface.

CHAPTER V

THE FAVOURITE AT THE 'FOUR-OORS'; FROM WIGMAKER TO BOOKSELLER; THE QUARTO OF 1721--1717-21

Ramsay's fame as a poet, writing in the Scots vernacular, was now thoroughly established. Though the patronage of the Easy Club could no longer be extended to him, as the Government of the Elector of Hanover--lately crowned King of England under the t.i.tle of George I.--had directed its suppression, the members of it, while in a position to benefit him, had laid the basis of his reputation so broad and deep that virtually he had now only to build on their foundation.

He was distinctly the favourite of the 'auld wives' of the town. In quarto sheets, familiarly known as _broadsides_, and similar to what had been hawked about the country in his youth, his poems had hitherto been issued. It became the fas.h.i.+on, when four o'clock arrived, to send out their children, or their 'serving-la.s.s,' with a penny to procure Allan Ramsay's latest piece, in order to increase the relish of their 'four-oors' Bohea' with the broad humour of _John Cowper_, or _The Elegy upon Lucky Wood_, or _The Great Eclipse_.

During the year or two immediately preceding the publication of the quarto of 1721 this custom greatly increased. Of course, a supply had to be forthcoming to meet such a demand, but of these, numberless pieces, on topics of political or merely ephemeral interest, were never republished after their appearance in _broadside_ form. By an eminent collector of this species of literature the fact is stated, that there are considerably over two score of poems by Ramsay which have thus been allowed to slip into oblivion. Not that such a fate was undeserved. In many cases their indelicacy would debar their admission into any edition nowadays; in others, their lack of permanent general interest. Such subjects as _The Flytin' of Luckie Duff and Luckie Brown_, _A Dookin' in the Nor' Loch_, and _A Whiggish Lament_, were not the kind of themes his calmer and maturer judgment would care to contemplate being handed down to posterity as specimens of his work.

In 1719 Ramsay appears to have concluded, from the extensive sale his poems enjoyed even in _broadside_ form, that the trade of a bookseller would not only be more remunerative than a wigmaker's, but would also be more in accord with his literary tastes and aspirations. For some months he had virtually carried on the two trades concurrently, his reputation undoubtedly attracting a large number of customers to his shop to have their wigs dressed by the popular poet of the day. But as his fame increased, so did his vanity. Of praise he was inordinately fond. 'Tell Allan he's as great a poet as Pope, and ye may get what ye like from him,' said the witty and outspoken Lord Elibank to a friend. The charge had more than a grain of truth in it. That man did not lack more than his share of self-complacent vanity who could write, as the vicegerent of great Apollo, as he informs us in _The Scribblers Lashed_, such lines as these--

'Wherefore pursue some craft for bread, Where hands may better serve than head; Nor ever hope in verse to s.h.i.+ne, Or share in Homer's fate or----'

Alas! Allan, 'backwardness in coming forward' was never one of thy failings!

To Allan, _digito monstrari_ was a condition of things equivalent to the seventh heaven of felicity; but he felt it would be more to his advantage to be pointed out as a bookseller than as a wigmaker, when his reputation as a poet would cause his social status to be keenly examined. We learn that he consulted his friend Ruddiman on the step, who spoke strongly in its favour, and gave him good sound advice as to the kind of stock most likely to sell readily. The 'Flying Mercury,'

therefore, which up to this date had presided over the 'theeking' of the _outside_ of the 'pashes' (heads) of the worthy burgesses of Auld Reekie, was thereafter to preside, with even increased l.u.s.tre, over the provision of material for lining the _inside_ with learning and culture.

That the time was an anxious one for the poet there can be little doubt.

He was virtually beginning the battle of life anew; and though he did so with many advantageous circ.u.mstances in his favour, none the less was the step one to be undertaken only after the gravest consideration and calculation of probabilities. But by its results the change is shown to have been a wise one. From the outset the bookselling business proved a lucrative venture. The issue of his own _broadsides_, week by week, was of itself a considerable source of profit. These, in addition to being sold at his shop and hawked about the country, were disposed of on the streets of Edinburgh by itinerant stallkeepers, who were wont to regard the fact as one of great moment to themselves when they could cry, 'Ane o' Maister Ramsay's new poems--price a penny.' In this manner his famous piece, _The City of Edinburgh's Address to the Country_, was sown broadcast over the county.

Meantime, while Ramsay's literary and commercial prosperity was being established on so firm a basis, he was becoming quite a family man. The little house opposite Niddry's Wynd was gradually getting small enough for his increasing _menage_. Since his marriage in 1712, happiness almost idyllic, as he records, had been his lot in his domestic relations. He had experienced the pure joy that thrills through a parent's heart on hearing little toddling feet pattering through his house, and sweet childish voices lisping the name 'father.' The following entries in the Register of Births and Baptisms for the City of Edinburgh speak for themselves:--

'At Edinburgh, 6th October 1713.

'Registrate to Allan Ramsay, periwige-maker, and Christian Ross, his spouse, New Kirk Parish--a son, Allan. Witnesses, John Symer, William Mitch.e.l.l, and Robert Mein, merchant, burgesses; and William Baxter.

'Registrate to Allan Ramsay, weegmaker, burges, and Christian Ross, his spouse, North East (College Kirk) Parish--a daughter named Susanna.

Witnesses, John Symers, merchant, and John Morison, merchant. The child was born on the 1st instant. 3rd October 1714.

'Registrate to Allan Ramsay, weegmaker, and Christian Ross, his spouse, North East Parish--a son, Niell. Witnesses, Walter Boswell, sadler, and John Symer, merchant. 9th October 1715.

'Registrate to Allan Ramsay, weegmaker, and Christian Ross, his spouse, North East Parish--a son, Robert. Witnesses, John Symer, merchant, and Walter Boswell, sadler. The child was born on the 10th instant. 23rd November 1716.

'Registrate to Allan Ramsay, bookseller, and Christian Ross, his spouse--a daughter named Agnes. Witnesses, James Norie, painter, and George Young, chyrurgeon. Born the 9th instant. 10th August 1725.'

Besides these named above, Chalmers states that Christian Ross brought Allan Ramsay three other daughters, who were not recorded in the Register,--one born in 1719, one in 1720, and one in 1724,--who are mentioned in his letter to Smibert as 'fine girls, no ae wally-draigle among them all.'

In 1719 our poet published his first edition of 'Scots Songs,'--some original, others collected from all sources, and comprising many of the gems of Scottish lyrical poetry. The success attending the volume was instant and gratifying, and led, as we will see further on, to other publications of a cognate but more ambitious character. Almost contemporaneously was published, in a single sheet or _broadside_, what proved to be the germ of the _Gentle Shepherd_--to wit, a _Pastoral Dialogue between Patie and Roger_. The dialogue was reprinted in the quarto of 1721, and was much admired by all the lovers of poetry of the period.

A reliable gauge of the estimation wherein Ramsay was now held, as Scotland's great vernacular poet, is afforded in the metrical epistles sent to him during the closing months of 1719 by Lieutenant William Hamilton of Gilbertfield, to which Allan returned replies in similar terms. This was not a poetical tourney like the famous 'flyting' between Dunbar and Kennedy, two hundred and thirty years before. In the latter, the two tilters sought to say the hardest and the bitterest things of each other, though they professed to joust with pointless spears; in the former, Hamilton and Ramsay, on the contrary, vied each with the other in paying the pleasantest compliments. Gilbertfield contributed a luscious sop to his correspondent's vanity when he saluted him, in a stanza alluded to by Burns in his own familiar tribute, as--

'O fam'd and celebrated Allan!

Renowned Ramsay! canty callan!

There's nowther Highland-man nor Lawlan, In poetrie, But may as soon ding down Tantallan, As match wi' thee.'

Then he proceeds to inform honest Allan that of 'poetry, the hail quintescence, thou hast suck'd up,' and affirms that--

'Tho' Ben and Dryden of renown Were yet alive in London town, Like kings contending for a crown, 'Twad be a pingle, Whilk o' you three wad gar words sound And best to jingle.'

After such a glowing tribute, Allan could do no less than dip deep into his cask of compliments also, and a.s.sure Gilbertfield that he felt taller already by this commendation--

'When Hamilton the bauld and gay Lends me a heezy, In verse that slides sae smooth away, Well tell'd and easy.'

Then he proceeds to shower on his correspondent his return compliments as follows--

'When I begoud first to cun verse, And could your "Ardry Whins" rehea.r.s.e, Where Bonny Heck ran fast and fierce, It warmed my breast; Then emulation did me pierce, Whilk since ne'er ceast.'

Three epistles were exchanged on either side, bristling with flattery, and with a little poetic criticism scattered here and there. In Ramsay's second letter his irrepressible vanity takes the bit in its teeth and runs away with him. He appends a note with reference to his change of occupation, as though he dreaded the world might not know of it. 'The muse,' he says, 'not unreasonably angry, puts me here in mind of the favours she had done by bringing me from stalking over bogs or wild marshes, to lift my head a little brisker among the polite world, which could never have been acquired by the low movements of a mechanic.' He was a bookseller now, of course, and could afford to look down on wigmakers as base mechanics! His lovableness and generosity notwithstanding, Ramsay's vanity and self-complacency meets us at every turn. To omit mentioning it would be to present an unfaithful portrait of the honest poet. On the other hand, justice compels one to state that, if vain, he was neither jealous nor ungenerous. He was always ready to recognise the merits of others, and his egoism was not selfishness. Though he might not care to deny himself to his own despite for the good of others, he was perfectly ready to a.s.sist his neighbour when his own and his family's needs had been satisfied.