XX. For your poor friend, the Bard, afar And sober chirps securely. [The upshot of the election contest is related in this epistle: Miller of Dalswinton triumphed, and Johnston of Westerhall was defeated. There are two copies of the poem extant, both in the Poet's hand-writing; the one belonging to Mrs. M'Murdo seems the most correct: from the other, the property of Miss Stewart of Now for my friends and brethren's sakes, Stewart of Hillside, [Captain Grose, the hero of this facetious poem, was a zealous antiquary and fond of wit and wine. He had served in the army, and, retiring from it, dedicated his leisure and his talents to investigate the antiquities of his country. He found his way to Friars-Carse where some of the ablest antiquaries of Scotland occasionally met; and at the "board of Glenriddel," he saw Burns for the first time. The Engishman heard with wonder the sarcastic sallies, epigrammatic remarks, and eloquent bursts of the Scot; while the latter was struck with the remarkable corpulency of the learned antiquary, and the most poetic feeling with which he Lord send a rough-shod troop o'hell, To grind them in the mire†. ON CAPTAIN GROSE'S Peregrinations through Scotland, COLLECTING THE ANTIQUITIES OF THAT KINGDOM. HEAR, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots, I rede you tent it: A chiel's amang you takin' notes, And, faith, he'll prent it! If in your bounds ye chance to light O' cauk and keel. By some auld, houlet-haunted biggin,|| Some eldritch part, Wi' deils, they say, L-d save 's! colleaguin' At some black art. Ilk ghaist that haunts auld ha' or chaumer, It's tauld he was a sodger bred, He has a fouth o' auld nick-nackets: And parritch-pats, and auld saut-backets, talked of ancient allies. The wine of Glenriddel, too, aided An inversion of the name of Kirkmaiden, in Wigtonshire, the most southerly parish in Scotland. Vide his Antiquities of Scotland.-R. B. Of Eve's first fire he has a cinder; A broom-stick o' the witch o' Endor, Forbye, he'll shape you aff, fu' gleg, Or lang-kail gully. But wad ye see him in his glee, And port, O port! shine thou a wee, Now, by the powers o' verse and prose! They sair misca' thee; I'd take the rascal by the nose, Wad Shame fa' thee! say, [Burns made out some antiquarian and legendary memoranda respecting the ruins in Kyle, and addressed them to his late facetious gossip, Grose, under cover to Cardonnel, a well-known northern antiquary. As his mind teemed with poetry, he could not let this opportunity pass, but humming, as he folded up the letter, the well-known air of "Sir John Malcolm," wrote these lines on the envelope. Here, again, he touched on the captain's corpulency, and raised a laugh louder than the latter liked. Cardonnel read the verses wherever he went, and the condoling inquiry over all Edinburgh was "Is he slain by Highlan' bodies? The old song of "Sir John Malcom," which the Poet had in his mind when he wrote to Cardonnel, is to be found in "Yair's Charmer."---A former baronet of Lochore and his neighbour "Sandie Don," being in the habit of romancing too much over the bottle, a friend, who had a knack at rhyme, reproved them in these facetious lines: "O keep ye weel frae Sir John Malcolm. And eaten like a wether-haggis? Is he to Abram's bosom gane? Or haudin' Sarah by the wame? Where'er he be, the L-d be near him! As for the deil, he daur na steer him! Iram, coram, dago. But please transmit the enclosed letter, Igo and ago, Which will oblige your humble debtor, So may ye hae auld stanes in store, The very stanes that Adam bore, So may ye get in glad possession, The coins o' Satan's coronation ! Gath'rin' her brows like gath'rin' storm, Nursin' her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter,* As he frae Ayr ae night did canter, (Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses, For honest men an' bonny lasses.) O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise, As ta'en thy ain wife Kate's advice! She tauld thee weel thou wast a skellum, A bletherin', blusterin', drucken blellum; That frae November till October, Ae market-day thou was na sober; ["The original of Tam o' Shanter was an individual named Douglas Grahame, a Carrick farmer. Shanter is a farm on the Carrick shore, near Kirkoswald, which Grahame long possessed. The man was, in sober truth, the "bletherin', blusterin' blellum" that the poet has described; and his wife was as veritably a lady who most anxiously discouraged drinking in her husband. Burns, when a boy, spent some time at Kirkoswald, in the house of a maternal uncle, who at once practised the craft of a miller, and sold homebrewed ale To this house, Grahame and his brother-in-law, the farmer of Duquhat (which lies between Kirkoswald and Shanter), used to resort; and finding in Burns some qualities which, boy as he was, recommended him to their attention, they made him every thing but their drinking companion. Sometimes, the two topers, tired of ale, which they said was rather cold for the stomach, would adjourn to Duquhat, and correct their native liquor with good brandy, which at that time was supplied by smugglers to every house in Carrick at a price next to nominal. Burns would accompany them in these migrations, an observant boy, inspecting the actions of his dotard seniors. After spending half a night at Duquhat, the farmer of that place, with Burns, would accompany Grahame to Shanter: but as the idea of the "sulky sullen dame" rose in their minds, a debate would arise as to the propriety of venturing, even in full strength, into the house, and Grahame would, after all, return to Duquhat, and continue the debauch till next day; content to put off the present evil, even at the hazard of encountering it in an accumulated form afterwards. Such were the opportunities afforded to the poet of observing the life of the Carrick farmers of those days. Regarding the identity of the hero of the tale, the following conclusive evidence is given : SIR, SWINDRIDGE MUIR, 13th January, 1829. As I understand you wish to be informed of what I know of the identity of the person designated Tam o' Shanter, in Burns' celebrated poem of that name, I shall cheerfully communicate all I know on the subject. Having met with the poet at the house of Sir W. Cunningham of Robertland, which I was frequently in the way of doing, he (Burns) at request produced the poem. All the company present seemed to have some previous knowledge of it excepting myself. I asked who was the person therein represented as Tam. Burns replied, "Who could it be but the .guidman o' Shanter?-a man well acquainted with the freaks and pranks of the infernal crew; " and in the course of conversation I found this person to be Douglas Grahame. This was previous to his having sent a copy to Captain Grose, for whom it was particularly intended. Next morning I received a copy from the poet himself; and to the best of my recollection there were also present at the time the late Dr. Hamilton, Kilmarnock, and Dr. M'Kenzie, then in Mauchline, now in Edinburgh. And I am, Sir, Yours, &c. To MR. DAVID AULD,} Merchant, Ayr. JOHN SMITH. FROM MAJOR WM. NEILL, OF BARNWELL, MR. DAVID AULD, SIR,-In corroboration of what Mr. Smith states relating to the identity of Tam o' Shanter, I have had a conversation with Mrs. Jean Doak, a person of great respectability; she was brought up with an aunt, who lived at the farm of Forncalloch in the neighbourhood of Kirkoswald. She was That ilka melder, wi' the miller, Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet there at the time Burns attended Mr. Rodger's school at Kirkoswald, and resided with his uncle Mr. Samuel Brown in Ballochmyle. Douglas Grahame, then, and for some time afterwards, lived in the farm of Shanter. He was currently known in the neighbourhood as the Tam of the Poet; an appellation, however, no one durst apply to his face, as whatever honour may attach to it now, it was not a joke at all relished by the honest farmer. Mrs. Doak has known Shanter all her life. I am, dear Sir, Your most obedient servant, WM. NEILL.] [The village where a parish church is situated is usually called the Kirkton in Scotland. A certain Jean Kennedy, who kept a reputable public-house in the village of Kirkoswald, is here alluded to:] ["Alloway Kirk, with its little enclosed burial-ground, next demands the pilgrim's attention. It has long been roofless, but the walls are pretty well preserved, and it still retains its bell at the east end. Upon the whole, the spectator is struck with the idea that the witches must have had a rather narrow stage for the performance of their revels, as described in the poem. The inner area is now divided by a partition-wall, and one part forms the family burial-place of the late Mr. Cathcart, who may perhaps be better known by his judicial designation of Lord Alloway. The winnock bunker in the east,' where sat the awful musician of the party, is a conspicuous feature, being a small window, divided by a thick mullion. Around the building are the vestiges of other openings, at any of which the hero of the tale may be supposed to have looked in upon the hellish scene. Within the last few years the old oaken rafters of the kirk were mostly entire, but they have now been entirely taken away, to form, in various shapes, memorials of a place so remarkably signalized by genius. It is necessary for those who survey the ground, in reference to the poem, to be informed that the old road from Ayr to this spot, by which Burns supposed his hero to have approached Alloway Kirk, was considerably to the west of the present one, which, nevertheless, existed before the time of Burns. Upon a field about a quarter of a mile to the north-west of the kirk, is a single tree enclosed with a paling, the last remnant of a group which covered the cairn Whare hunters fand the murder'd bairn ;' and immediately beyond that object is the foord, com Whare in the snaw the chapman smoor'd;' (namely, a ford over a small burn which soon after joins the Doon); being two places which Tam o' Shanter is described as having passed on his solitary way. The road then made a sweep towards the river, and, passing a well which trickles down into the Doon, where formerly stood a thorn, on which an individual, called in the poem Mungo's mither,' mitted suicide, approached Alloway Kirk upon the west. It is surprising with what interest any visiter to the real scene inquires into and beholds every part of it which can be associated, however remotely, with the poem of Tam o' Shanter.' The churchyard contains several old monuments, of a very humble description, marking the resting-places of undistinguished persons, who formerly lived in the neighbourhood, and had the usual hereditary title to little spaces of ground in this ancient cemetery. Among those persons rests William Burness, father of the Poet, over whose grave the son had piously raised a small stone, recording his name and the date of his death, together with the short poetical tribute to his memory which is inserted in the works of the Bard. How mony lengthen'd, sage advices, But to our tale :-Ae market night, Care, mad to see a man sae happy, But pleasures are like poppies spread, A moment white-then melts for ever; That flit ere you can point their place; The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last; Weel mounted on his grey mare, Meg, This monument has been long ago destroyed and carried away piece-meal, and there is now substituted for it one of somewhat finer proportions. But the churchyard of Alloway has now become fashionable for the dead as well as the living. Its little area is absolutely crowded with modern monuments, referring to persons, many of whom have been brought from considerable distances to take their rest in this doubly consecrated ground. Among these is one to the memory of a person named Tyrie, who, visiting the spot some years ago, happened to express a wish that he might be laid in Alloway churchyard, and, as fate would have it, was interred in the spot he had pointed out within a fortnight. Nor is this all; for even the neighbouring gentry are now contending for compartments in this fold of the departed, and it is probable that the elegant mausolea of rank and wealth will soon be jostling with the stunted obelisks of humble worth and noteless poverty. Tam skelpit on thro' dub an' mire, By this time he was cross the foord, Inspirin' bold John Barleycorn! "The Monument alluded to was erected many years ago by subscription, and has subsequently been surrounded by a garden of evergreens. Hardly any object of the kind could be more truly beautiful, or worthy of its purpose, than this happily designed and happily situated building; nor could any thing be more truly entitled to praise than the manner in which it is kept and managed. The interior contains a capital copy of the original portrait of the Poet, by Nasmyth, besides various other objects of less moment. In a grotto apart are now placed the celebrated statues of Tam o' Shanter and Souter Johnny, executed by Mr. James Thom, the selft-aught sculptor. After performing the tour of the United Kingdom, and gathering a sum little short of five thousand pounds, these singularly felicitous grotesques have been permanently fixed here, being, in fact, the property of the Monument Committee."-CHAMBERS.] By which heroic Tam was able To note upon the haly table, A murderer's banes in gibbet airns; As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, an' curious, The mirth an' fun grew fast an' furious: The piper loud an' louder blew, The dancers quick an' quicker flew ; worn, Her cutty sark, o' Paisley harn, Ah! little kenn'd thy reverend Grannie, But here my muse her wing maun cour, Sic flights are far beyond her pow'r; To sing how Nannie lap an' flang, (A souple jade she was, an' strang,) An' how Tam stood, like ane bewitch'd, An' thought his very een enrich'd; Ev'n Satan glowr'd, and fidg'd fu' fain, An' hotch'd an' blew wi' might an' main : "Till first ae caper, syne anither, Tam tint his reason a' thegither, An' roars out, "Weel done, Cutty-sark!" An' in an instant a' was dark: An' scarcely had he Maggie rallied, They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit, When out the hellish legion sallied. "Till ilka carlin swat and reekit, An' coost her duddies to the wark, An' linket at it in her sark! Now Tam! O Tam! had thae been queans A' plump an' strappin', i' their teens; Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flannen, Been snaw-white seventeen hunder linen! Thir breeks o' mine, my only pair, That ance were plush, o' guid blue hair, I wad hae gi'en them aff my hurdies, For ae blink o' the bonnie burdies! But wither'd beldams, auld an' droll, Rigwoodie hags, wad spean a foal, Lowpin' an' flingin' on a cummock, I wonder didna turn thy stomach. But Tam kenn'd what was what fu' brawlie, "There was ae winsome wench an' walie," + That night enlisted in the core, (Lang after kenn'd on Carrick shore; For mony a beast to dead she shot, An' perish'd mony a bonnie boat, An' shook baith meikle corn an' bear, An' kept the country-side in fear.) [These additional four lines were, in the original MS., in this place. The Poet omitted them at the suggestion of Mr. Tytler, of Woodhouselee, who observed to him, in a letter, dated March, 1791:-"The descriptive part might perhaps have been better closed after the two following lines-Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu' Which ev'n to name would be unlawfu',' than the four lines which succeed 'The grey hairs yet stack to the heft,' which, though good in themselves, yet, as they derive all their merit from the satire they contain, are here rather misplaced, among the circumstances of pure horror." To which Burns replied, "As to the faults you detected in the As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, When, pop! she starts before their nose; Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou'lt get thy fairin'! In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin'! In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin'! Kate soon will be a woefu' woman! Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, An' win the key-stane of the brig ; § There at them thou thy tail may toss, A running stream they darena cross; But ere the key-stane she could make The fient a tail she had to shake! For Nannie, far before the rest, Hard upon noble Maggie prest, An' flew at Tam wi' furious ettle; But little wist she Maggie's mettleAe spring brought off her master hale, But left behind her ain grey tail: piece, they are truly there. One of them, the hit at the Lawyer and the Priest, I shall cut out."] † Allan Ramsay. It is a well-known fact that witches, or any evil spirits, have no power to follow a poor wight any farther than the middle of the next running stream. It may be proper likewise to mention to the benighted traveller that, when he falls in with bogles, whatever danger may be in his going forward, there is much more hazard in turning back.-R. B. The Auld Brig of Doon, which is approached by a steep way, forming Tam's line of march when pursued by the witches, and which is connected with the road by a sharp turn that may be conceived to have given that hero some trouble in a gallop, is a fine old arch, of apparently very |