ScotsteXt! Roughs

Rough Scan

PREFACE.

_TO THE SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF CLACKMANNANSHIRE_.

THE original form in which the following production was prepared was that of a Lecture delivered before the Members of the Glasgow Clackmannanshire Association in the month of February, 1884. The Members of that Association, as well as numerous friends in the County, expressed a strong desire to have it in a more permanent shape, and available for reference in leisure hours. The first arrangement has not been departed from, but numerous Poems, Songs, &c., and the names of several of our County Bards, who have since communicated with me, have been added to the list.
No collection of the effusions of our Local Poets has, so far as known to me, been hitherto attempted, and, though no one knows better than I do the imperfections attending a first effort of this kind, yet, this volume will meet a demand which has lately arisen, and will be valuable in assisting some future collector, who, by mounting on my shoulders, will be able to present something more worthy of acceptance on the part of the sons and daughters of Clackmannanshire, and do more justice to the noble brotherhood of the Poets.
The volume is largely enriched with Plates, for the use of which I am under a debt of gratitude to Thomas Bradshaw, Esq., Dollar; George Drummond, Esq., Elmbank Mills, Menstrie; and James Lothian, Esq., of the _Alloa Advertiser_.
To all who have assisted me in any way to make this a book really representative of our Local Poets I return my thanks, and entrust it with confidence to those to whom it is delicated.

=_January, 1885_.==JAMES BEVERIDGE.

INTRODUCTION.

IT occurred to me some considerable time since that the Sons and Daughters of Clackmannanshire might derive both instruction and pleasure from a review of the life and writings of some, at least, of those poets whom our county has produced, whether of those who have embodied their writings in books, or of those who have adopted the more ephemeral weekly local newspapers, or, further, of that more numerous class still, who have embalmed their thoughts in verse, but have not chosen as their vehicle of diffusion either book or newspaper. Our county possesses peculiar attractions for the cultivation of a fine poetic feeling, and facilities for the developrnent of poetic taste, and yet it has produced no great poet-none who can rank in the highest realms of poesy.
Its hills are unrivalled for their beauty, and for the extent of the prospect they afford; its glens form very theatres for romance; its streams, threading their way through scenes of exquisite loveliness, hurrying to pay their tributary homage to their great parent-the Forth, who, in his turn, hastes onward with his accumulated burden to the ocean - all spread fertility and music in their unceasing march; its woods are "nests of spicery," and its groves voiceful of song. Nature, then, with unvaried voice, cries aloud to all her sons, "My children! open your hearts to the divine influences of song. Be poets!" And, if the present life-the hurry and stir, the eager pressing crowd, the whirr of machinery, the triumphaut sound of the locomotive and steamer, and the stately march of her ships be not enough to call forth the energy of music, our county has older associations far than these. She has her ancient towers - abodes of kings; her ancient castles - abodes of terror; her ancient churches - abodes of religion; and her ancient mounds - resting-places of the invader. Battlefields are all around her, and, within view of countless places within her boundaries, may be seen more than one historic arena where "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled," and "Scots wham Bruce had aften led," welcomed death rather than slavery.
If such associations as these do not stir the poetic fire, what can do it? Shall I enquire if Love's arrows are less sharp? Are the women less lovely than are those dwelling by the banks of Ayr? Are the praises of the God of Wine less exalted? Or, shall we venture upon the theory that there is something too practical for elevated poetical ideals in "Alloa Ale," "Bottled Porter," and "Cambus Whisky?" Not, however, to discuss this matter further, we have to face the fact that the full and radiant vision of "fateful Song" has not showered its undivided stream upon any single bard in our county. But if we have not the blazing sun, we have the more subdued, though blissful starlight. The strong stream-the divine afflatus, - "the light that never was on sea or shore," has been broken up into many-voiced tongues of flame, which may be seen sparkling on the heads of quite a host of constellations who have kept, and still keep, alive amongst us, the true spirit and grateful art of poesy divine.
That this is so, I hope, before I have done, to show to your entire satisfaction. And, perhaps, the best way to convince you is to make each author speak for himself.
And, as introductory to our subject, the first name I should like to bring before you is that of

==SIR WILLIAM ALEXANDER,

Earl of Stirling, who was born at Menstrie House, in 158O. This was a poet whose writings were exceedingly popular in his own day, much more popular, in fact, than those of his friend and contemporary, DRUMMOND of Hawthornden; but since his death his works appear to have been totally neglected. Whatever genius he had was curbed down and hampered by adhering to the foreign and ancient models he had studied, and not by taking as his foundation the literature of his own country. His language, however, was purely that of his contemporary brethren in England. The latest edition of his works, published in three volumes in 1870-72, is the fourth. The first was published by himself, from 1614 onward as composed; the second, under the title of "Recreations with the Muses," in 1637; and a part of his poems was reprinted by CHAMBERS in 1810. Amongst his voluminous poems there is much very fine writing, especially in his "Aurora Sonnets," "Doomesday," and the four tragedies, "Croesus, Darius, Alexander, and Julius Caesar" - the last of these (the tragedies) having, it is said, given several hints to SHAKESPEARE in the remodelling and versification of some of his - especially "Caesar." We take this, however, _cum grano salis_, but shall be glad to see it proved. Take as a specimen the following, as being of interest to ourselves, entitled, "Some verses written shortly thereafter, by reason of an inundation of Doven, a water near unto the author's house, whereupon his Majesty was sometimes wont to hawke"-

"What wonder though my melancholious muse,
Whose generous course sone lucklesse starre controules;
Her bold attempts to prosecute refuse,
And would faine bury my abortive scroules.

To what perfection can my lines be rais'd,
Whilst many a cross would quench my kindling fires;
Lo, for Parnassus by the Poets prais'd,
Some savage mountains shadow my retires.

No Helicon her treasure here unlockes,
Of all the sacred band the chief refuge;
But dangerous Doven rumbling through the rockes,
Would scorn the raine-bow with a new deluge.

As Tiber, mindefull of his olde renowne,
Augments his floodes to waile the faire chang'd place;
And greev'd to glide through that degener'd towne,
Toyles with his depths to cover their disgrace.

So doth my Doven rage, greev'd in like sort,
While as his wonted honour comes to mind:
To that great Prince whilst he afforded sport,
To whom his trident Neptune hath resigned.

And as the want of waters and of swaines,
Had but begotten to his banks neglect
He strives t'encroach upon the bordering plaines,
Again by greatness to procure respect.

Thus all creatures of this orphand boundes,
In their own kinds moov'd with the common crosse;
With many a monstrous forme all forme confoundes,
To make us mourn more feelingly our losse." &c.

BURNS,

Too, was smitten with the beauty of the Devon, and has given effect to his thoughts in the oft-quoted "Clear winding Devon" which it is needless here to repeat.
That we are influenced by our surroundings is an undoubted fact. This may account for the increase of melancholy in the mind of

MICHAEL BRUCE,

As indicated in such lines as the following occurring in "Lochleven," a poem which he wrote and completed at Forest Mill, while acting as teacher there:

="Thus sung the youth, amid unfertile wilds
=And nameless deserts, unpoetic ground,
=Far from his friends he strayed, recording thus
=The dear remembrance of his native fields
=To cheer the tedious night, while slow disease
=Preyed on his pining vitals, and the blasts
=Of dark December shook his humble cot."

The depressing nature of his surroundings appeared to react upon his poem.

PROFESSOR TENNANT,

Author of "Anster Fair," &c., although for fifteen years a teacher in Dollar Institution, did not write any county poems. We find the following lyric inscribed to him from the pen of the late naval officer,

CAPTATN CHARLES GRAY.

="Thy river, clear winding, flows softly along,
=Like the music of verse, or the notes of a song;
=There the trout in his pastime glides swift as a dart,
=And oft cheats the angler, though crafty his art;
=There the tenants of nature at freedom may rove,
=No gun, net, or line lurks in sweet Devon grove."

Should this effort mi my part louse you up to take a deeper interest in the rich storehouse of poetry and song that is lying all around you in your own county, or bring about a collection, however small, of the songs and songwriters of Clackmannanshire that may be available for handy use, I shall deem my labour well rewarded. It will be something, at least, to have preserved for the coming generation some of the songs and poems of our own day, which are fast running the chance of slipping altogether out of our memories.
Enough has been said by way of introduction generally, and as some slight arrangement of our su1~ject may make it easier to handle, and mote attractive to rehearse, we purpose to divide it as follows:-

I. - POEMS RELATING TO ANCIENT PLACES AND INCIDENTS.
II. - LOVE SONGS, SONGS OF THE AFFECTIONS, AND RHYMES OF THE DOMESTIC CIRCLE.
III. - DESCRIPTIVE POEMS, WHETHER RELATING TO SCENERY, OR TO TRADES AND PROFESSIONS, OR OTHER BUSINESS OF ACTIVE LIFE.
IV. - EPISTLES, POEMS IN MEMORIAM, AND ODES.
V. - TRANSLATIONS.

Poems relating to Ancient Places and Incidents.

Clackmannan Tower.

Written by ALEXANDER BALD, late of Alloa, 1805.

HAIL, ancient Tow'r! once the gay seat of kings,
And warlike heroes of most high renown:
But now, alas! like all created things,
Thy stones to dust are daily mould'ring down.

Tho' mute thy bell, and drear thy empty halls,
Long I've revered thee, and will love thee still;
Though nought but ivy deck thy garden walls,
Oft let me wander on thy beauteous hill.

For here I've sauntered at the 'peep of dawn,'
With fond companions of my earlier hours;
Oft, too, at eve, we've strayed across the lawn,
Climbed thine ascent to pluck wild blooming flow'rs.

Now childhood past - I mount the rising ground
With tardier step to view the hilly north;
Admire the variegated scene around,
And trace meand'ring Devon to the Forth.

How pleasant 'tis to view the plain below,
Where plenty waves her treasures in the breeze;
How cheerful 'tis to hear the cattle low,
And lively songsters warble 'mongst the trees.

ALEXANDER BALD

Was born at Alloa on the 9th June, 1783, and was a man of cultivated taste, an elegant writer, and a frequent contributor to the _Scots Magazine_. Two of his songs - "The Lily of the Vale" and "How sweet are the blushes of morn" - have been often quoted as songs of great excellence and beauty. Come now to

Alloa Tower.

=Ages on ages, still against the tide
=Of ruthless searing time, thy wall hath stood:
=Bold as thy dauntless barons, who subdued
=Stern foes of other days - days of thy pride-
=When thy roof sheltered princes. But no more
=Life echoes through thy casements, as of yore,
=When gaily dazzling in the light
=From gems, and jetting lamps on high,
=And lovers' glances darting bright,
=Thy chambers sparkled as a sky-
=And meteor-like beyond compare,
=Scotland and Beauty's Queen was there!
=Stirling's far turrets, Forth's meandering stream,
=Speak of thy by-gone glories-now a dream!

In connection with this take the following stanzas of a song, composed on the occasion of the Earl of Mar regaining his titles and honours. On the 21st June, 1825, the Earl having crossed to Alloa by the Ferry, was met by a great crowd who had made holiday in his honour, and the following was sung. It is entitled -

The Earl of Mar back again.

O hae ye heard what siccan news
King Geordie has sent north, man,
To gladden every honest heart
Frae Tweed unto the Forth, man?

Wi' heralds loud frae town to town
His royal compliments cam' down,
In Scotland's lug a gracious sown',
To tell afar - that back to Mar
He'd gie his star-feint haet the waur-
=And wishing health to wear't, man.

=*=*=*=*

They've placed a crown upon his head,
And on his breast a star, man;
And our guid king has said that hence
We'll ca' him, Earl Mar, man!

Then cannons roared wi' voices howe,
The bonfires blazed on ilka knowe,
And whirligigs a' in a lowe,
Wi' powther packt, they jumpt and crackt,
An' whackt, and smackt, and hardly slackt,
=Frae morning sun, till dyne, man!

The brilliant pageant gave rise also to the following song:-

The Earl of Mar's Visit to Alloa.

AIR - "Little wat ye wha's coming."

=Little wat ye wha's coming,
=Little wat ye wha's coming,
=O'er the Forth, and hauding north,
=The Earl o' Mar and a's coming.

Weel he's coming, leal he's coming
Pibroch's humming, piping, drumming,
A' the clan out to a man,
The Earl o' Mar and a's coming.

The Hammermen in raws are coming,
The Joiners wi' their braws are coming,
The Masons, Weavers, Bakers, Brewers,
An' Maltmen lads an' a's coming.