Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast
On yonder lea, on yonder lea,
My plaidie to the angry airt,
I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee:
Or did misfortune's bitter storms
Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,
Thy bield should be my bosom,
To share it a', to share it a'.
Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a paradise,
If thou wert there, if thou wert there:
Or were I monarch o' the globe,
Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my crown
Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.
'The anecdote is a trivial one in itself; but we feel that the
circumstances--the deadly illness of the poet, the beneficent worth of
Miss Lewars, and the reasons for his grateful desire of obliging
her--give it a value. It is curious, and something more, to connect it
with the subsequent musical fate of the song, for many years after,
when Burns had become a star in memory's galaxy, and Jessy Lewars was
spending her quiet years of widowhood over her book or her knitting in
a little parlour in Maxwelltown, the verses attracted the regard of
Felix Mendelssohn, who seems to have divined the peculiar feeling
beyond all common love which Burns breathed through them. By that
admirable artist, so like our great bard in a too early death, they
were married to an air of exquisite pathos, "such as the meeting soul
may pierce." Burns, Jessy Lewars, Felix Mendelssohn--genius, goodness,
and tragic melancholy, all combined in one solemn and profoundly
affecting association!'
In numberless instances, the hitherto loosely stated facts of Burns's
life are corrected in the present work, partly through the accuracy of
a strictly historical arrangement, and partly by direct reference to
written documents. On account of the value of dates in placing the
facts and compositions in that order which gives so much illustration
to the character of the poet, the editor has taken what might appear
in other circumstances a pedantic degree of pains on that score. Of
this we have an example in regard to the chronology of Burns's
attachment to Highland Mary. To fix that affair as occurring in the
summer of 1786--an episode in the connection of the poet with the
young woman who ultimately became his wife--it is necessary to
establish the death of Mary as occurring about the 20th of October
that year. This is done partly by reference to a register of burial
sites in a church-yard, and partly by a chain of curious evidence
respecting the day which Burns celebrated three years after as the
anniversary of the event. He composed on that day his beautiful
address _To Mary in Heaven_, beginning--
Thou lingering star with lessening ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn, &c.
Mrs Burns had a recollection of the day, which, she said, was in
September, at the end of harvest, and which, she added, he spent in
his usual duties, though labouring under a cold. As the twilight
deepened, he grew sad about something, and wandered out into the
barn-yard, to which she followed him, entreating him in vain to
observe that frost had set in, and to return to the fireside. She
finally found him there stretched on a mass of straw, with his eyes
fixed on a beautiful planet, which shone like another moon. He was
engaged at that moment in apostrophising the soul of Mary. Out of this
anecdote, the editor of the present work contrives to obtain evidence
as to the true date in the following manner:--
'In the first place, the harvest was late that year. We find in the
Scottish newspapers of the time, that, in the middle of October, a
great deal of grain was still _out_ even in the favoured district
around Falkirk; while a letter from Sanquhar (Burns's neighbourhood),
dated the 21st, states that "while much was cut, _very little was yet
got in_, owing to the bad weather." It appears that harvest was
commenced by the 8th of September in some districts, but was
interrupted by rains, and was not concluded till near the end of the
ensuing month. Consequently, the incident _might_ take place in the
latter part of October, and _still be connected with harvest
operations_. The second portion of our evidence on the subject is from
one of the exact sciences, and appears to us at once to settle the
time of the day--the month--and almost the day of the month.
'It fully appears that the planet Venus is the one referred to by the
poet, for the description applies only to it. Now Venus was in
conjunction with the sun, May 30, 1789, and after that became visible
as the _evening-star_ towards the end of the summer, reaching its
greatest brilliancy in winter. It is therefore certain that the star
which "loves to greet the early morn" did not at this time "usher in
the day," and consequently, so far as the time of day alluded to in
the poem is concerned, a poetical liberty was taken with truth. On the
21st of September the sun set at six o'clock, and Venus forty-four
minutes thereafter. The planet was consequently not to be seen at that
time except faintly in the twilight. But on the 21st of October the
sun set in the latitude of Ellisland at 4h 53m, and Venus 1h 3m
afterwards. Consequently, Venus would then have begun to assume a
brilliant appearance during a short interval after sunset. On that day
the moon was four days old, and within eight diameters of Venus. The
planet would then of course be beginning to be dimmed by the
moonlight, and this effect would go on increasing till the moon had
passed the full--that is, early in November. If, then, we are to set
aside the possibility of a later month than October, and keeping in
view the all but certainty that Mary was not buried till some time
after the 12th of that month, it seems reasonable to conclude, that
the barn-yard musings of Burns took place between five and six o'clock
of the evening of some day about the 19th or 20th of October, and
consequently a very short time after the merry-meeting for the
Whistle-contest at Friars' Carse.
'That a month later than October could have been the date of the
incident will, I presume, scarcely be argued for. The moon was at the
full on Tuesday the 2d of November, and it could not be till after
that day that the first hour of the night would be "starry," with
Venus in full blaze. By that time, as far as we can gather from the
chronicles of the time, the harvest was past. Besides, Mrs Burns might
easily mistake September for October, but scarcely for November, a
month of such different associations. On this point the temperature of
the time might throw some light, if we could be sure of the exact
meaning to be attached to the phrase--"the frost had set in." It
chances that the temperature of October that year was unusually high,
the average at eight o'clock in the evening in Edinburgh being 45-1/2°
Fahrenheit. The _Edinburgh Advertiser_ of 30th October speaks of
apple-trees and bean-stalks renewing their blossoms in consequence of
the extraordinary mildness. On the 19th of October, at eight o'clock
in the evening, the thermometer indicated in Edinburgh 51°; on the
20th, at the same hour, 59°; on the 21st, 51° again. The only approach
to frost was on the 30th and 31st, when, at eight in the evening, the
thermometer was respectively at 33° and 37°. After this, it rose to a
more temperate point. Hence it becomes evident that _literal frost_
did not then exist at any such period of the day. Probably Mrs Burns
merely thought the evening was beginning to be comparatively chilly.
If we can admit of this construction being put upon her words, I would
be disposed to pitch upon the _warmest evening_ of the little period
within which we are confined--for unless the poet had been in a
peculiarly excited state, so as to be insensible to external
circumstances, which is obviously a different thing from being in a
merely pensive state, we must suppose him as not likely to lie down in
the open air after sunset, except under favour of some uncommon amount
of "ethereal mildness." Seeing, on the other hand, how positively
inviting to such a procedure would be a temperature of 59°, I leave
the subject with scarcely a doubt that the composition of _To Mary in
Heaven_ took place on Tuesday the 20th of October, and that this was
consequently the date of the death of the heroine.'
This, no doubt, seems a great muster of evidence about so small a
matter; but to judge of the rationality of its being entered upon, the
reader must keep in mind the relation of the incident to others. If it
only proved that the comic drinking-song _The Whistle_, and _To Mary
in Heaven_, were written within three days of each other, it might be
not altogether labour lost, for it would establish an exceedingly
curious literary anecdote. But the bearing it has on the whole affair
of Highland Mary--one of the most deeply interesting passages of
Burns's life--is such as, in our opinion, to make every other
justification superfluous.