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David Nightingale: Robert Burns

  "Read the exquisite songs of Burns", wrote Tennyson. "In shape each of them has the perfection of the berry; in light the radiance of the dewdrop."  (Ref.3,frontispiece)

People in many parts of the world remember Jan 25th, for the birth of that self-described (quote) 'unregenerate heathen' ,who once announced he would dine nowhere where he could not "eat like a Turk, drink like a fish and swear like the Devil" (ref.4,p.131).

He was born outside Glasgow 250 years ago, and with his siblings grew up helping his father farm the lands of rich land-owners. He deeply admired his father, who read to his children and who, for a year or two, provided his 2 eldest sons with a part-time tutor.

At 17 he tried to learn surveying, but wrote that he gave up when (ref.3, p.4):

"A fillette, (Peggy Thomson) who lived next door to the school, overset my trigonometry...I struggled on with my sines and cosines a few days more... (but) if anything on earth deserves the name of rapture...  it is... the feelings of green eighteen... when she repays him with an equal return of affection."

At 26 he fell in love with Jean Armour, daughter of a respectable mason, who strongly disapproved of her daughter's choice.

                                    It is na, Jean, thy bonie face

                                                Nor shape that I admire;     

                                    Altho' thy beauty and thy grace,

                                                Might weel awake desire;

                                    Something, in ev'ry part o' thee,

                                                To praise, to love, I find;

                                    But dear as is thy form to me,

                                                Still dearer is thy mind.

His beloved Jean, under pressure from her father, rejected him, despite her being pregnant with twins. In depression and poverty, he thought of emigrating to Jamaica, but resolved to publish his poems first, and in Edinburgh a publisher put out a notice of subscription, which meant that IF enough people subscribed first, then his poems would be printed. Fortunately, there were enough subscriptions, and the first edition of "POEMS" was published when he was 27, and in America just 2 years later. Because of praise from critics he decided to stay on in Edinburgh, to try to train as an Exciseman (taxman) as well as to continue as a poet.

All his life Burns was bothered by money cares, which probably contributed to his ill health: (ref.1, p.103)

                                    Thou man of crazy care and ceaseless sigh,

                                    Still under bleak Misfortune's blasting eye;

                                    Doomed to that sorest task of man alive, --

                                    To make three guineas do the work of five.

Meantime, in Edinburgh, he managed to re-visit Jean Armour, who became pregnant again, with a second set of twins, both of whom died. Qualifying as an Exciseman, he got a job near Dumfries. With a lessening of the family objections, he and Jean finally publicly acknowledged their previous irregular marriage; and at the same time, a previous mistress, Jenny Clow, bore him a son. Jean is quoted as saying [find ref again] "he needs twa wives..." In fact, Jean seems to have been a quite remarkable woman, because she adopted yet another illegitimate child of his from an earlier liaison, when that child's mother [Anne Park] died.

In his early 30's he sent the manuscript of Tam O'Shanter for publication, and began to settle down, being promoted to the DumfriesPort Division (of Excisemen) with a salary of 70 pounds a year. But it was not to be for long. Although his popularity was spreading, his heart was failing, despite the devotion of his extraordinarily patient Jean.

By 1796 three out of four of the two sets of twins had died, and he was still trying to borrow money to pay creditors. Jean was expecting again, and gave birth on the day of his funeral. Having died of carditis at only 37, he was buried, with military honors and large admiring crowds, in the churchyard of Dumfries (ref.1,p.57).

                                    And there's a hand, my trusty friend

                                    And gie's a hand o' thine,

                        And we'll tak a right good-willie waught  [draught (of ale)]

                                    For auld lang syne.

________________

References:

1. "A Primer of Burns", by W.A.Craigie; Kennikat Press, Port Washington,NY; 1896, re-issued 1970.

2."Robert Burns, The Man & The Poet", by R.T.Fitzhugh; Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston, 1970.

3. "The Love Songs & Heroines of Robert Burns", by J.C.Hill; J.M.Dent & Sons, 1961.

4. "Pride and Passion," by deLancey Ferguson;  Russell & Russell Inc., NY, 1964.

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