THE EASY CLUB; EARLY POEMS; EDINBURGH OF LAST CENTURY--1712-16
Ramsay's marriage was the turning-point of his career. To him, as to
every man who realises not alone the moral but the social obligations he
assumes when undertaking the holy charge of rendering a woman's life
happier and brighter than ever before, the responsibilities of his new
relation crystallised into the mould of definite effort the energies
hitherto diffused throughout numberless diverse channels. Seldom has the
philosophy of wedded bliss been more felicitously stated than in his
_Advice to Mr. ---- on his Marriage_. He remarks, as though drawing on
the fund of his own experience--
'Alake! poor mortals are not gods,
And therefore often fall at odds;
But little quarrels now and then,
Are nae great faults 'tween wife and man.
These help right often to improve
His understanding, and her love.
If e'er she take the pet, or fret,
Be calm, and yet maintain your state;
An' smiling ca' her little foolie,
Syne wi' a kiss evite a tulzie.
This method's ever thought the braver
Than either cuffs or _clish-ma-claver_.
It shows a spirit low an' common
That wi' ill-nature treats a woman.
They're of a make sae nice and fair
They maun be managed wi' some care;
Respect them they'll be kind an' civil,
But disregarded, prove the devil.'
But for another reason the year 1712 is as interesting to us as students
of his career as it was important to him. In the early months of it he
was introduced to the 'Easy Club,' one of those politico-convivial
societies that sprang into existence early in the century, and were
conspicuous features in the social customs of the period, until its
eighth and ninth decades, when, consequent upon the expansion of the
city north and south, the tavern conviviality of 1740 was succeeded by
the domestic hospitality of 1790.
At the time of which we write, the capital of Scotland was virtually
represented by the one long street called the High Street, or 'Edinburgh
Street,' which crowned the summit of the ridge extending from the Castle
to Holyrood Palace, the ancient home of the Stuarts. From this main
artery of traffic, smaller veins, in the shape of narrow darksome
closes, branched out, leading to a second artery in the Cowgate, and to
yet a third one in the Grassmarket. During the panic that prevailed
after the Battle of Flodden, a wall of defence was drawn around the
town. By it the area of Edinburgh was grievously circumscribed. Only
what might be termed the heart of the city was included, all lying
beyond falling within the anomalous designation of _suburbs_. For two
hundred years this seemingly impassable girdle sternly checked the
natural _overflow_ of the city's life. To reside outside the _ports_ or
gates was not only considered dangerous--it was unfashionable. And as
there was not accommodation for a tenth part of the inhabitants in the
houses of two, or at most three, storeys which prevailed about the time
of the Reformation, the architects of the Restoration period commenced
the erection of those towering tenements, or _lands_,--twelve, fourteen,
and even sixteen storeys high,--for which Edinburgh has been celebrated
among the cities of Europe. Thus the families of the Scottish metropolis
were packed together, one on the top of the other, like herrings in a
barrel, in those quaint old houses, with their grim timber fronts, their
crow-stepped gables and dormer windows, that remain even until to-day to
show us the circumstances under which our fathers lived and loved.
In circumstances such as these, domestic comfort and the sweet seclusion
of home were out of the question. So criminally overcrowded was the town
that well-born gentlemen and their households were content with two or
three rooms, wherein all the manifold duties of social and domestic life
had to be performed. Robert Chambers, in his charming _Traditions of
Edinburgh_, relates how the family of Mr. Bruce of Kennet, a leading
lawyer, afterwards raised to the Bench, lived in a house of three rooms
and a kitchen--a parlour, a consulting-room for Mr. Bruce, and a
bedroom. The children, with their maid, had beds laid down for them at
night in their father's room, the housemaid slept under the kitchen
dresser, and the one man-servant was turned at night out of the house.
Even a more striking example of the lack of accommodation was to be
found in connection with the household arrangements of Mr. Kerr, the
eminent goldsmith of Parliament Square, who 'stowed his _menage_ in a
couple of small rooms above his booth-like shop, plastered against the
wall of St. Giles Church; the nursery and kitchen, however, being in a
cellar under the level of the street, where the children are said to
have rotted off like sheep.... The town was, nevertheless, a funny,
familiar, compact, and not unlikable place. Gentle and semple living
within the compass of a single close, or even a single stair, knew and
took an interest in each other.'
Such was the kind of home to which Allan Ramsay brought his bride. Two
rooms, with a closet and a kitchen, for many a long year were the extent
of their household accommodation. Such a state of things was not
favourable to the development of the virtues purely domestic. Hence with
Ramsay, as with other men, tavern life was accepted as a substitute for
those comforts the sterner sex could not get at home. As Grant remarks
in his _Old and New Edinburgh_: 'The slender house accommodation in the
turnpike stairs compelled the use of taverns more than now. There the
high-class advocate received his clients, and the physician his
patients--each practitioner having his peculiar _howff_. There, too,
gentlemen met in the evening for supper and conversation, without much
expense, a reckoning of a shilling being a high one--so different then
was the value of money and the price of viands.'
Mr. Logie Robertson, in his graphic and admirable introduction to the
_Poems of Allan Ramsay_ in the Canterbury Series, adds: 'Business
lingered on all over the town to a much later period than is customary
now, but by eight o'clock every booth was deserted and every shop
closed, and the citizens for the most part gave themselves up to cheap
conviviality and pastime for the next hour or two. Almost every
tradesman had his favourite place in his favourite tavern, where, night
after night, he cracked a quiet bottle and a canny joke before going
home to his family. It was first business, then friendship; and the
claims of family after that.'
Out of this general spirit of conviviality arose those numberless Clubs
wherein, upon the convivial stem, were graffed politics, literature,
sport, science, as well as many other pursuits less worthy and less
beneficial. No custom, no usage, no jest, in fact, seemed too trivial to
be seized upon as the pretext to give a colour of excuse for founding a
Club. Some of them were witty, others wise, others degrading. Such
designations as the _Cape Club_,--so called from doubling the Cape of
Leith Wynd, when half-seas over, to get home to the burgh of Low Calton,
where several of the members lived; the _Pious Club_, because the
brethren met regularly to consume pies; the _Spendthrift Club_, because
no _habitue_ was permitted to spend more than _fourpence halfpenny_, and
others, were harmless in their way, and promoted a cheap _bonhomie_
without leading the burghers into disgraceful excesses. But the
_Hell-fire Club_, the _Sweating Club_, the _Dirty Club_, and others of a
kindred order, were either founded to afford an opportunity for
indulgence in riot and licence of every kind, or were intended to
encourage habits as disgusting as they were brutal.
Not to be supposed is it that Ramsay had lived six-and-twenty years of
his life without having practised, and we have no doubt enjoyed, the
widespread conviviality of the period. Hence, though the Easy Club was
the first of the social gatherings wherewith he actually informs us he
was connected, we have no reason to doubt he had been associated with
several of them before. In fact, in that poetical 'Essay' of his which
stands first in the chronological order of composition, though not of
publication, the _Elegy on Maggy Johnston_, who died anno 1711--an
alewife whose little farm and hotel were situated in the village of
Morningside, just beyond the Bruntsfield Links,--he seems to imply that
a club of some kind met there. The third stanza runs as follows--
'And there by dizens we lay down;
Syne sweetly ca'd the healths aroun',
To bonny lasses, black or brown,
As we loo'd best:
In bumpers we dull cares did drown,
An' took our rest.'
But to the Easy Club[1] must be assigned the honour of having stimulated
the nascent genius of the poet to achieve something that would convey to
its members the fact that it was no ordinary tradesman who solicited
admission into the charmed circle of the Society. James Ross, whose zeal
for the poetic young wigmaker's social recognition was now materially
increased, used all his influence to obtain for his son-in-law an
_entree_ into the Club of which he was himself a member. Questionable,
indeed, it is, when we consider the exclusive character of the
association in question, the high social position of its members, and
their avowed Jacobitical tenets, if even the influence of James Ross,
powerful though it was, would alone have secured for Ramsay admission.
But an inspiration, as happy as it was original, prompted him to embody
his petition for admission into the Club in a poetical address. Such a
course was of itself sufficient to recommend him to men like Dr.
Ruddiman and Dr. Pitcairn. The poem, addressed to 'The Most Happy
Members of the Easy Club,' proceeded, in a felicitous strain of gentle
satire, blended with genial humour not unlike Gay at his best, to plead
his own cause why he should be admitted as 'an _Easy_ fellow.' His
application was successful, and he was duly enrolled as a member. The
following lines extracted from it will exhibit the character of the
piece, which takes rank as the earliest of his published poems--
'Were I but a prince or king,
I'd advance ye, I'd advance ye;
Were I but a prince or king,
So highly I'd advance ye!
Great wit and sense are ever found
Among ye always to abound;
Much like the orbs that still move round,
No ways constrained, but easy.
Were I but, etc.
Most of what's hid from vulgar eye,
Even from earth's centre to the sky,
Your brighter thoughts do clearly spy,
Which makes you wise and easy.
Were I but, etc.
All faction in the Church or State,
With greater wisdom still you hate,
And leave learn'd fools there to debate,--
Like rocks in seas you're easy.
Were I but, etc.
I love ye well--O let me be
One of your blythe Society;
And like yourselves I'll strive to be
Aye humorous and easy.
Were I but, etc.
The benefits received by the self-confident young poet were not alone of
an intangible character. Praise is an excellent thing of itself, but a
modicum of pudding along with it is infinitely better. To Ramsay the
Easy Club was the means of securing both. The _role_ of his literary
patrons was at once assumed by its members. They printed and published
his _Address_ at their own expense, appointed him, within a few months'
time, their 'Poet Laureate,' and manifested, both by counsel and the
exercise of influence, the liveliest interest in his welfare. No trivial
service this to the youthful poet on the part of his kindly club
brethren. How great it was, and how decisive the effect of their
generous championship in establishing Ramsay's reputation on a sure
basis, will best be understood by glancing for a moment at the character
of the Easy Club and the _personnel_ of its membership.
Originally founded, under a different name, as a means of frustrating,
and afterwards of protesting against, the Union, the Club, after its
reconstruction in 1711, became a Jacobite organisation pure and simple.
As Ramsay himself stated in after years: 'It originated in the antipathy
we all of that day seemed to have at the ill-humour and contradiction
which arise from trifles, especially those which constitute Whig and
Tory, _without having the grand reason for it_.' The grand reason in
question was the restoration of the Stuarts. To give a _soupcon_ of
mystery to their proceedings, as well as to veil their identity when
thus plotting against the 'powers that be,' each member assumed a
fictitious name, generally that of some celebrated writer. The poet, as
he himself relates, at first selected Isaac Beckerstaff, suggestive of
Steele and the _Tatler_. Eventually, however, he altered his
_nom-de-guerre_ to Gawain Douglas, one more in accordance with his
patriotic sentiments.
The membership was limited to _twelve_, but at the time when Ramsay made
his application we only know the names of five of those who belonged to
it. Hepburn of Keith, in East Lothian, an antiquarian of no mean
standing; Professor Pitcairn, late of Leyden, but at that time in the
enjoyment of one of the largest practices as a physician in the
Edinburgh of the period; Dr. Patrick Abercrombie, the eminent historian
and antiquarian, author of _The Martial Achievements of the Scottish
Nation_; Dr. Thomas Ruddiman, philologist, grammarian, printer, and
librarian of the Advocates' Library,--one of the few Scottish polymaths
over and above the Admirable Crichton and George Buchanan,--and James
Ross the lawyer. Tradition has stated that Hamilton of Gilbertfield was
also one of the 'Easy fellows,' as they dubbed themselves, but no
confirmation of this fact could be discovered.
We reach now the commencement of Ramsay's literary career. For four
years--in fact, until the breaking up of the Society after the Rebellion
of 1715--all he wrote was issued with the _imprimatur_ of the Easy Club
upon it. That they were proud of him is evident from the statement made
by Dr. Ruddiman in a letter to a friend: 'Our Easy Club has been
increased by the admission of a young man, Ramsay by name, _sib_ to the
Ramsays of Dalhousie, and married to a daughter of Ross the writer. He
will be heard tell o' yet, I'm thinking, or I am much out of my
reckoning.'
The next pieces which our poet read to his patrons were two he had
written some time previous--to wit, a little Ode on the preservation
from death by drowning of the son of his friend John Bruce, on August
19, 1710; and the _Elegy on Maggy Johnston_, the alewife, to which
reference has already been made. The first of these bears evident traces
of youth and inexperience, in both the esoteric and exoteric or
technical mysteries of his art. For example, when referring to the
danger wherein the lad and his companions had been placed, he remarks--
'Whilst, like the lamp's last flame, their trembling souls
Are on the wing to leave their mortal goals';
and he conjures up the following extraordinary spectacle of angelic
gymnastics, whereby the rescue of the lads was effected--
'Angels came posting down the divine beam
To save the helpless in their last extreme.'
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_, rebutted 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 title, 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 God.
Cocks 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 grassy 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
assigned 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 pourtith'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 classes. As is well known, a
fragment is in existence consisting of one canto of a poem entitled
_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 fashion 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.