The Canongate Burns (39 page)
Read The Canongate Burns Online
Authors: Robert Burns
1
The Laigh Kirk in Kilmarnock.
2
A tavern, later named the Angel Hotel, in Kilmarnock, across the bridge over the Marnock Water.
3
Alluding to a scoffing ballad which was made on the admission of the late Reverend and worthy Mr Lâ. to the Laigh Kirk. R.B.
4
Rev. James Oliphant, an âAuld Licht' minister of Kilmarnock's High Church.
5
Rev. John Russell â took over from Oliphant in 1774.
6
Rev. James Mackinlay [spelt M'Kinlay by Burns in a letter, no. 21], whose ordination was opposed by âNew Licht' moderates.
7
Genesis, Ch. IX, verse 22. R.B.
8
Numbers, Ch. XXV, verse 8. R.B.
9
Exodus, Ch. IV, verse 25. R.B.Â
10
Rev. John Robertson, a moderate colleague of Mackinlay.
11
Rev. John Mutrie, Minister of the Laigh Kirk prior to Mackinlay.
12
New Light is a cant phrase in the West of Scotland for those religious opinions which Dr Taylor of Norwich has defended so strenuously. R.B.
First printed in the Edinburgh edition, 1787.
To the Rev. Mr James Stephen, on his text, Malachi, IV, Verse 2 â
âAnd ye shall go forth, and grow up, like CALVES of the stall.'
Right, Sir! your text I'll prove it true,
      Tho' Heretics may laugh;
For instance, there 's yoursel just now,
yourself
      God knows, an unco
Calf
!
great
5
And should some Patron be so kind,
      As bless you wi' a kirk,
give his own church
I doubt na, Sir, but then we'll find
not
      You're still as great a
Stirk
.
young bullock
But, if the Lover's raptur'd hour
10
      Shall ever be your lot,
Forbid it, ev'ry heavenly Power,
      You e'er should be a
Stot
!
young bullock
Tho', when some kind, connubial Dear
      Your But-an-ben adorns,
small house
15
The like has been that you may wear
      A noble head of
horns
.
And, in your lug, most reverend James,
ear
      To hear you roar and rowte,
rant/bellow
Few men o' sense will doubt your claims
20
      To rank among the
Nowte
.
cattle
And when ye're number'd wi' the dead,
      Below a grassy hillock,
With justice they may mark your head â
      âHere lies a famous
Bullock
!'
This
jeu d'esprit
was composed after a challenge by Gavin Hamilton that Burns could not produce a poem on the subject of the Rev. James Stephen's sermon at Mauchline on Sunday 3rd September 1786 âin a given time' (Letter 46). Hamilton was to miss the sermon and asked Burns for a poem on the visiting minister's sermon. Originally only four stanzas, as read to Hamilton by Burns and so winning his bet, a further two were added that evening.
The publication of this work in the Edinburgh edition obviously omitted the name of the kirk minister. A pamphlet publication of the poem had been circulated, presumably without the poet's knowledge, which included
The Calf; The Unco Calf's Answer; Virtue to a
Mountain Bard
; and
The Deil's Answer to his Vera Worthy Frien
Robert Burns
. Later in 1786 another anonymous work appeared called
Burns' Calf Turned a Bull;
Or
Some Remarks on His Mean and
Unprecedented Attack on Mr S
â. Steven's identity did not remain anonymous, although unnamed by Burns. The poet was attacked as irreligious and associated with the Devil. Even by the late 19th century Scott Douglas attacks the poet for his verses: âvery clever, but recklessly severe; for the author could have no personal dislike to this victim of his satirical propensity' (Vol. I, p. 155). The Rev. Stephen, who later worked in London and ended up in Kilwinning, bore the nickname of âthe calf' thereafter. It is highly probable that if Burns had not been attacked in the doggerel pamphlet poems over this work, the minister's identity would not have been made public.
or
The Rigidly Righteous
First printed in the Edinburgh edition, 1787.Â
My Son, these maxims make a rule
,
       Â
An' lump them ay thegither:
together
The Rigid Righteous is a fool,
       Â
The Rigid Wise anither;
another
The cleanest corn that e'er was dight
sifted
       Â
May hae some pyles o' caff in;
have, piles, chaff
So ne'er a fellow-creature slight
    Â
For random fits o' daffin
.
Burns's Paraphrase of Solomon
(
Eccles
. vii. 16).
O YE wha are sae guid yoursel,
you who, so good
      Sae pious and sae holy,
so
Ye've nought to do but mark and tell
nothing
      Your Neebours' fauts and folly!
neighbours' faults
5
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
whose, well going
      Supplied wi' store o' water,
The heapet happer's ebbing still,
heaped hopper
      An' still the clap plays clatter!
clapper of a Mill, moving grain.
Hear me, ye venerable Core,
group
10
      As counsel for poor mortals,
That frequent pass douce Wisdom's door
sober
      For glaikit Folly's portals;
careless/stupid
I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes
      Would here propone defences,
15
Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,
hapless/unlucky
      Their failings and mischances.
Ye see your state wi' theirs compared,
      And shudder at the niffer,
comparison
But cast a moment's fair regard,
20
      What makes the mighty differ;
Discount what scant occasion gave,
      That purity ye pride in,
And (what's aft mair than a' the lave)
oft more, remainder
      Your better art o' hidin.
25
Think, when your castigated pulse
      Gies now and then a wallop,
gives, violent beat
What ragings must his veins convulse,
      That still eternal gallop:
Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail,
30
      Right on ye scud your sea-way
move fast
But, in the teeth o' baith to sail,
both
      It maks an unco leeway.
uncommon
See Social-life and Glee sit down,
      All joyous and unthinking,
35
Till, quite transmugrify'd, they're grown
      Debauchery and Drinking:
O, would they stay to calculate
      Th' eternal consequences;
Or your more dreaded hell to state,
40
      Damnation of expenses!
Ye high, exalted, virtuous Dames,
      Ty'd up in godly laces,
Before ye gie poor
Frailty
names,
give
      Suppose a change o' cases;
45
A dear-lov'd lad, convenience snug,
      A treach'rous inclination â
But, let me whisper i' your lug,
ear
      Ye're aiblins nae temptation.
maybe no
Then gently scan your brother Man,
50
      Still gentler sister Woman;
Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang,
go a little wrong
      To step aside is human:
One point must still be greatly dark,
      The moving
Why
they do it;
55
And just as lamely can ye mark,
      How far perhaps they rue it.
Who made the heart,' tis
He
alone
      Decidedly can try us,
He knows each chord its various tone,
60
      Each spring, its various bias:
Then at the balance let's be mute,
      We never can adjust it;
What's
done
we partly may compute,
      But know not what's
resisted
.
The date of the poem is uncertain. Prose sentiments very similar to those of the poem are to be found in the
FCB
for March 1784. It may also, with its emphasis on sexual transgression, in particular, female frailty, relate to Betsy Paton and Jean Armour in 1786. In the CB we find the following entry:
I have often observed ⦠that every man even the worst, have something good about them ⦠Let any of the strictest character for regularity of conduct among us, examine impartially how many of his virtues are owing to constitution and education; how many vices he has never been guilty of, not from any care or vigilance, but from want of opportunity ⦠how much he is indebted to the World's good opinion, because the world does not know all; I say any man who can thus think, will scan the failings, nay the faults and crimes of mankind around him, with a brother's eye.
From this young man's somewhat sententious, self-conscious prose, this vivid, knowingly witty, anti-Pharisaical poem emerges. Burns invokes the true spirit of charitable religion against the hypocritical, repressed and repressive, âunco guid'. Thus his own epigraph against the âRigid Righteous' and the âRigid Wise' is taken from
Ecclesiastes
, vii.16: âBe not righteous over much; neither make thyself over wise: why shouldst thou destroy thyself.' Thus against the absolutist judgment inherent in Calvinism he propounds the compassion of a Christ who was implicitly opposed to those judge-mentally throwing stones at adulterous women (
John
: 3â7). The translation of
Ecclesiastes
into vernacular Scots constitutes, as The First Psalm, an original work in its own right.
While not as obsessed as William Blake with Christ not as lawmaker but lawbreaker (
The Marriage of Heaven and Hell and The Everlasting
Gospel
), Burns does not see in him a spirit not only charitable and empathetic but insurrectionary against conventional social piety. Hence, like himself, a keeper of unconventional company.
Â
âAn honest man's the noblest work of God.'
Alexander Pope.
Has auld Kilmarnock seen the Deil?
old, Devil
Or great M'Kinlay
2
thrawn his heel?
hurt his ankle
Or Robertson
3
again grown weel
well/healthy
      To preach an' read?
5
âNa, waur than a'!' cries ilka chiel,
no, worse, every one
      â
Tam Samson's
dead!'
Kilmarnock lang may grunt an' grane,
long, groan
An' sigh an' sab, an' greet her lane,
sob, cry alone
An' cleed her bairns, man, wife an' wean,
clothe, children, child
10
      In mourning weed;
To Death she's dearly pay'd the kane,
rent in kind
      Tam Samson's dead!
The Brethren o' the mystic
level
masons
May hing their head in woefu' bevel,
hang, down/slope
15
While by their nose the tears will revel,
      Like ony bead;
any
Death's gien the Lodge an unco devel,
given, terrible blow
      Tam Samson's dead!
When Winter muffles up his cloak,
20
And binds the mire like a rock;
When to the loughs the Curlers flock,
lochs
      Wi' gleesome speed,
Wha will they station at the cock? â
who, mark
      Tam Samson's dead!
25
He was the king of a' the Core,
company of curlers
To guard, or draw, or wick a bore,
curling terms
Or up the rink like
Jehu
roar
      In time o' need;
But now he lags on Death's
hog-score
,
a line across the curling
ice
30
      Tam Samson's dead!
Now safe the stately Sawmont sail,
salmon
And Trouts bedropp'd wi' crimson hail,
spots
And Eels weel-kend for souple tail,
well-known, supple
      And Geds for greed,
pike (fish)
35
Since, dark in Death's
fish-creel
we wail
fish-basket
      Tam Samson dead!
Rejoice, ye birring Paitricks a';
whirring partridges
Ye cootie Moorcocks, crousely craw;
leg-feathered, boldly crow
Ye Maukins, cock your fud fu' braw,
hares, tail, fine well
40
      Withoutten dread;
without
Your mortal Fae is now awa',
foe, away
      Tam Samson's dead!
That woefu' morn be ever mourn'd
Saw him in shootin graith adorn'd,
gear/clothes
45
While pointers round impatient burn'd,
      Frae couples freed;
from
But, Och! he gaed and ne'er return'd!
went
      Tam Samson's dead!
In vain Auld-age his body batters;
old-
50
In vain the Gout his ankles fetters;
ankles
In vain the burns cam down like waters,
came
      An acre-braid!
broad/wide
Now ev'ry auld wife, greetin, clatters:
old, crying, exclaims
      âTam Samson's dead!'
55
Owre mony a weary hag he limpit,
over, many, moss, limped
An ay the tither shot he thumpit,
always, other, he hit
Till coward Death behind him jumpit,
jumped
      Wi' deadly feide;
feud/rage
Now he proclaims, wi' tout o' trumpet,
blast
60
      Tam Samson's dead!
When at his heart he felt the dagger,
He reel'd his wonted bottle-swagger,
But yet he drew the mortal trigger,
      Wi' weel-aim'd heed;
well-aimed
65
âLord, five!' he cry'd, an owre did stagger;
over
      Tam Samson's dead!
Ilk hoary Hunter mourn'd a brither;
each, brother
Ilk Sportsman-youth bemoan'd a father;
each
Yon auld gray stane, amang the heather,
the old grey stone, among
70
      Marks out his head;
Whare
Burns
has wrote, in rhyming blether,
where, nonsense
     Â
Tam Samson's dead!
There, low he lies in lasting rest;
Perhaps upon his mould'ring breast
75
Some spitefu muirfowl bigs her nest,
builds
      To hatch an' breed:
Alas! nae mair he'll them molest!
no more
      Tam Samson's dead!
When August winds the heather wave,
80
And Sportsmen wander by yon grave,
Three volleys let his memory crave,
      O' pouther an' lead,
(gun) powder
Till Echo answer frae her cave,
from
      Tam Samson's dead!
85
Heav'n rest his saul, whare'er he be!
soul, where'er
Is th' wish o' mony mae than me:
many more
He had twa fauts, or maybe three,
two faults
      Yet what remead?
Ae social, honest man want we:
one
90
      Tam Samson's dead!
THE EPITAPH
Tam Samson's
weel-worn clay here lies,
well-
      Ye canting Zealots, spare him!
If Honest Worth in heaven rise,
      Ye'll mend or ye win near him.
before, get
PER CONTRA
95
Go, Fame, an' canter like a filly
young horse
Thro a' the streets an' neuks o'
Killi
e,
4
alleys/closes, Kilmarnock
Tell ev'ry social, honest billie
person
      To cease his grievin,
For yet, unskaith'd by Death's gleg gullie,
sharp knife
100
     Â
Tam Samson's leevin!
livingÂ
If Mark Twain believed that reports of his death had been greatly exaggerated, Burns builds this boisterous poem on a similar joke. Beginning with a dig at the propensity for theatrical clamour in two of his âAuld Licht' clerical enemies, also savaged in
The Ordination
, Burns runs a declamatory âheadline' through the poem with his multi-voiced proclamations of Tam Sampson's death whereby men, animals, birds, fish and Death itself join the chorus. Tam's enormous vigour for field sports is echoed in the vocal, mixed response to his alleged demise; hardly surprisingly the creaturely victims of his energetic skill are ecstatic. Thomas Sampson (1722â95) was a nurseryman, sportsman and Freemason (ll. 13â18) in Kilmarnock. His poetic immortalisation stems from a combination of his eccentric strength of character and Burns's access to the form and theme of the eighteenth-century Scots comic elegiac tradition with specific relation to Robert Semphill of Beltree's
Piper of
Kilbarchan
. Burns's celebration of his aged hunter-killer is uncharacteristic of his general attitude to hunting where, so much of the poetry of the late eighteenth century is suffused with it, the suffering and destruction of creaturely life is dominant. Here this is controlled partly by the comic convention and also possibly by the fact that Tam is an honest man of the people and not a bloodsport-aristocrat.
The Epitaph
(ll. 91â4) is another attack on the sanctimoniously judgemental and the
Per Contra
(ll. 95â100) which undercuts the previous ebullient statements of grief may have resulted from Alan Cunningham's story (ii. 235) that Burns wrote it in response to Sampson's protest that âI'm no dead yet⦠I'm worth ten dead fowk'. Kinsley pertinently refers here to Ramsay's
To my Friends in
Ireland, who on a report of my death,⦠Elegies
, ll. 5â6 (
Works
, STS, ii, 203):
Dight your Een, and cease your grieving,
ALLAN's hale, and well, and living â¦
1
When this worthy old Sportsman went out last muir-fowl season, he supposed it was to be, in Ossian's phrase, âthe last in his fields'; and expressed an ardent wish to die and be buried in the muirs. On this hint the author composed his Elegy and Epitaph. R.B.
2
A certain Preacher, a great favourite with the Million.
Vide The Ordination
, stanza 2. R.B.
3
Another Preacher, and equal favourite with the Few, who was at that time ailing. For him, see also
The Ordination
, stanza 9. R.B.
4
Killie is a phrase the country-folks sometimes use for the name of a certain town in the West. R.B.Â