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THE MONUMENT ON THE BANK OF DOON--ITS EXTERNAL AND
INTERNAL APPEARANCE--RELICS OF THE POET--HIGHLAND
MARY’S BIBLE--SCENERY--THE STATUES OF TAM o’ SHANTER
AND SOUTER JOHNNY--THE SCHEME FOR ERECTING THE MONUMENT
AND HOW IT ORIGINATED--LAYING THE FOUNDATION
STONE--MR. BOSWELL’S ADDRESS, ETC.
The grounds surrounding the Monument on the banks of
Doon, although barely an acre in extent, are quite
paradisiacal in appearance, being beautifully laid off and well
stocked with shrubs and choice flowers. The tribute to
the Poet’s memory is situated in the centre, and
towers far above its surroundings, being sixty
feet high. The basement, which is triangular in
form, contains a small chamber and supports a
circle of nine fluted columns thirty feet in height which
bear up a copula crowned by three inverted dolphins and
a gilt tripod. Altogether, it is a handsome
piece of masonry and worthy of the object to
which it is devoted.
After conversing with the courteous superintendent, I
entered the circular chamber in the basement of the
pile which was literally crowded with visitors
intently examining relics of the poet that are
preserved in glass cases. On a table lay a
ponderous ledger or “Visitors’ book,” round
which a knot were gathered anxiously waiting to add their
names to the many thousands its pages contained; but
from it my eye wandered round the apartment, and
rested on a well-executed portrait of Burns from
the celebrated paining by Naismyth, and also
upon several spirited sketches illustrating happy passages in his poems.
These adorned the walls, but a masterpiece of
art, in the form of a bust of Burns, arrested
universal attention by its life-like appearance.
It is a souvenir of the genius of the late Patrick Pars, R.S.A.,
a Scottish sculptor of considerable merit, who died on
the threshold of Fame’s temple. These in
themselves are very interesting, but the “Burns
relicts” are more attractive by far, and in
consort with other enthusiasts I looked upon
them with feelings akin to veneration. The following is a
list of the most noteworthy:--The Bible presented by
Burns to “Highland Mary;” “Bonnie Jean’s (Mrs.
Burns’) wedding ring, presented by Mrs. Hutchinson, a grand-daughter of
the poet; two rings, containing portions of the hair of
Burns and his devoted wife, presented by their
son, James G. Burns; two drinking-glasses
presented by Burns to Clarinda; a snuff-box made from the rafters of
“Alloway’s auld haunted kirk,” and a caup said
to have been used by the “randie, gangrel
bodies” who frequented the establishment of Poosie Nancy.
Beside these, there is a copy of the original
Kilmarnock edition of Burn’s poems, and one of
the Edinburgh edition; but the greatest literary
curiosities are those in the German and French
languages. There are also to be seen a letter from
Burns to Captain Millar of Dalswinton, and fac
similes of the MSS. of “Scots wha hae,” and
“The Jolly Beggars.” The bible which the poet
presented to his “Highland lassie” when they
parted for ever on the banks of the Ayr, consists
of two small volumes, and bears the following in his
unmistakeable handwriting:--Vol. I.--”And ye shall not swear by
my name falsely, I am the Lord. Levit. 19th
chap. 12th verse.” In the centre of
the opposite fly-leaf there is a mystical Free
Mason mark. Vol. II.--”Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but
shalt perform unto the Lord thine oath. Matth. 5th
ch. 33d verse.” On the tope of the opposite
fly-leaf are “Robert,” and two indistinct words,
which possibly are Burns and Mossgiel.
The history of this Bible is somewhat singular. After
Mary’s death, her father forbade the name of her lover
to be mentioned in the family. Her mother,
however, was more relenting, and with fond
memories of her child treasured the volumes, and
shortly before her own demise, which occurred in
Greenock in 1828, presented them to her daughter, a Mrs.
Anderson; but from her they passed from one sister to
another, and ultimately came into the possession of her
son, William Anderson, mason, Renton,
Dumbartonshire. In 1834 he emigrated to Canada
and took the volumes with him. For a long time
thereafter all traces of them were lost; but
being accidentally heard of by a few patriotic Scots in Montreal,
“These records dear of transports past”
were purchased for £25, and generously sent to the old
country to be placed in the Monument with the memorials
mentioned above.
From the chamber in which the relics are preserved a
narrow stair leads to a platform within the prestile. When I
emerged from it I found several visitors, leaning on
the balustrade upon which the columns rest intently gazing upon the
extensive and highly-interesting landscape which comes
within the range of vision from the elevated position.
I also found myself leaning on the stone work
and as deeply engrossed with the matchless views as any one, for in
whatever direction the eye turned it rested on
objects consecrated by the Poet’s genius and
upon scenery unsurpassed for richness and beauty. I could have “gazed
myself away,” as Wordsworth has it, but the
afternoon was well spent, and to guard against
being “catch’s wi’ warlocks in the mirk,” I
descended with the intention of taking a turn through the
grounds before leaving.
While admiring the flowers and neatly-bordered walks, I
stumbled on a grotto containing “Tam o’ Shanter” and
“Souter Johnny”--two life-sized stone figures from the
chisel of the late James Thom, an amateur
sculptor of some celebrity, who traveled and
exhibited them in the principal towns of Great
Britain and Ireland, before being deposited where they
now are. The figures, which are natural and life-like,
are represented sitting in chairs with a can of
“reaming swats” between them which appear to be
of divine quality, for as Tammie holds his
bumper, the very smile on his face would make
one believe that he was about to pronounce the old
toast,”Here’s to ye.” Johnnie looks quite pleased
also, and in every way as jolly and happy as his
prototype, “Laird M’Pherson,” was when in the
flesh. The “Laird” was a Symington cobbler whom
Thom modeled so cleverly that an urching from
the village was nearly frightened out of his wits
when he first peered in at the grotto door.
Before leaving the Monument, a word may be said about
in inauguration. The honour of originating the scheme
for its erection is wholly due to the late Sir
Alexander Boswell of Auchinleck--a gentleman who
was not only an enthusiastic admirer of the bard, but a poet of decided
merit, and a patriot who took a deep interest in
everything connected with the weal of his native
land. He knew how the Scottish heart beat
towards Burns, and in the belief that an appeal for funds
to erect a memorial for him on the banks of classic
Doon would be heartily responded to, he ventured
to call a public meeting in Ayr for the purpose
of having his proposal taken into
consideration. The day came, and the hour of meeting
arrived, but not a single individual but Mr Boswell
(his title was not then conferred upon him) and
a friend put in an appearance, so utterly
regardless seemed the community about the
matter. This was disheartening enough, but it did not
damp the enthusiasm of Boswell, for he believed with
his friend that the matter only required to be
known and Scotchmen in all parts of the globe would give it countenance.
With due formality, the same friend voted him to
the chair and proposed that a subscription
should be commenced for the purpose of raising a
monument to the poet Burns on the banks of Doon.
It is needless to say that the resolution met with
no opposition. A minute of the proceedings being
signed by the chairman, the meeting broke up.
The friends next advertised in the public journals that such a meeting had
been duly called, and that said resolution had
been unanimously carried at it. £1600 was soon
collected, and with this sum it was resolved to
commence building the memorial. On the
anniversary of the poet’s birthday, the following year (1820),
a great demonstration--in which large deputations from
all the Masonic lodges in Ayrshire took
part--was held in honour of the laying of the
foundation stone. The day was anything but
favorable for the occasion, but despite the inclemency of
the weather the procession with music playing and
banners flying marched from Ayr to the site--and
where could there have been a more appropriate
one found? An extensive circle being formed
round it, the stone was laid with Masonic honors
by Mr Alexander Boswell; and within a cavity were deposited the coins of
the realm, the local newspapers, and a brass
plate bearing the following inscription:--”By the favour
of Almightly God, on the twenty-fifth day of January,
A.D. MDCCCXX, of the era of Masonry 5820, and in
the sixtieth year of the reign of our beloved
Sovereign George the Third, His Royal Highness,
George Prince of Wales, being Regent of the United
Kingdom, and a munificent subscriber to the edifice,
the foundation stone of this monument, erected
by public subscription in honour of the genius of Robert Burns, the
Ayrshire poet, was laid by Alexander Boswell,
Esq., Auchinleck, M.P., Worshipful Depture-Grand
Master of the Most Ancient Mother Lodge of
Kilwinning (attended by all the mason lodges in
Ayrshire) according to the ancient usages of masonry.
Thomas Hamilton, jr., Edinburgh, architect. John
Connell, jr., builder and contractor.” At the
conclusion of the ceremony the Grand Master delivered the following brief
but beautiful oration:--
“BRETHREN,--May corn, wine, and oil abound; may all
that is useful and ornamental be cultivated amongst us;
and may all that can invigorate the body or
enliven the soul shed their blest influence on
our native land. We have at length assembled to
pay a grateful, although a tardy, tribute to the
genius of ROBERT BURNS, our Ayshire poet and the bard of
Coila. There surely lives not the man so dull, so
flinty, or phlegmatic, who could witness this
event without emotion.But to those whose heart-strings have thrilled
responsive to the chords of the poet’s
lyre--whose bosoms have swelled, like his,
with love and friendship, with tenderness and sympathy, have
glowed with patriotism, or panted for glory--this hour
must be an hour of exultation. Whether we
consider the time, the place, or the
circumstance, there is enough to interest in each;
but these combined, and at once in operation on our
feelings and our fancies--his muse, alas! is
mute, who could alone have dared to paint the
proud breathings of such an assembly at such a
moment. When we consider the time, we cannot forget
that this day is the anniversary of that which gave our
poet to the light of Heaven. Bleak is the
prospect around us; the wood, the hawthorn, and
’the birken shaw,’ are leafless; not a thrush
has yet essayed to clear the furrowed brow of
winter; but this we know shall pass away, give place, and
be succeeded by the buds of spring and the blossoms of
summer. Chill and cheerless was our poet’s natal day; but soon
the wild flowers of poesy sprung as it were beneath his
boyish tread; they opened as he advanced,
expanded as he matured, until he revelled in all
the richness of luxuriance. Poverty and
disappointment hung frowning around him, and haunted
his path; but soothed and charmed by the fitful visits
of his native muse, and crowned, as in a vision,
with the holly wreath, he wantoned in a fairy
land, the bright creation of hisown vivid and enrapt imagination. His
musings have been our delight. Men of the
loftiest talents and of tastes the most refined
have praised them--men of strong and swelling
but untutored intellect have admired them--the poet of the
heart is the poet of mankind. When we consider the
place, let us remember that these very scenes
which we now look upon, awakened in his youthful
breast that animating spark which burst upon the
world in a blaze of inspiration. In yonder
cottage he first drew breath. In that depository of
the lowly dead sleeps the once humble now immortal
model of the cottage life--there rests his pious
father--and there it was his fond and anxious
wish that his dust should have been mingled with
the beloved and kindred ashes. Below us flows
the Doon, the classic Doon, but made classic by his harmony;
there gliding through the woods, and laving his banks
and braes, he rolls his clear and ’far-fetch’d
waters’ to the ocean. Before us stand the ruins
of Kirk Alloway, shrouded in all the mystic
imagery with which it is enveloped by his magic
spells--Kirk Alloway! to name it is enough. If, then, the
time and place are so congenial with our fond
impressions, the circumstances which have
enabled us to carry into effect this
commemoration of our bard must give delight to every
enthusiastic mind. In every region where our language
is heard, the songs of Burns give rapture--and
from every region, and from climes the most
remote, the votive offerings have poured in to
aid our undertaking; and the edifice, which we
have now begun shall stand a proud and lasting testimony of
the world’s admiration. Not on the banks of Doon
alone, or hermit Ayr, or the romantic Lugar,
echo repeats the songs of Burns; but amidst the
wild forests of Columbia, and scorching plains
of Hindostan--on the banks of the Mississippi, the St. Lawrence, and the
Ganges, his heart-touching melodies float upon
the breeze. This monument rises like a pile
cairn over our warriors of old--each man casts a stone;
and in honour of him, the son of a cottar, and himself
a plougman, our Prince, with the true feeling of
true greatness, and more illustrious by this act of generosity, pays here
his tribute at the shrine of genius. May the work
prosper; and when happily completed, then may it
tell to future generations that the age which
could produce a Burns was rich also in those who
could appreciate his talents, and who, while
they felt and owned the power of his muse, have
honoured his name.”
After the applause which followed this eloquent speech
has subsided, the Rev. Hamilton Paul of Broughton
closed the proceedings with an appropriate
prayer, and with three hearty cheers the
assemblage commenced the return journey to the
town.
Towards evening the Grand Lodge was “opened” in the
King’s Arms Hall, and many patriotic toasts were
proposed and heartily responded to, but the
toast of the evening was “The Admirers of
Burns.” When proposing it, the Grand Master (Mr
Boswell) mentioned some particulars regarding
the subscriptions raised for the erection of the Monument,
and, amongst other things, said that its success was in
a great measure due to the exertions of Sir
James Shaw and William Fairlie of London, for
they had remitted large sums in furtherance of the undertaking which they
had been instrumental in collecting in London,
America, and the East Indies, where, he
affirmed, a greater enthusiasm prevailed in favour of Burns
and his writings than in his native country. After the
toast had been duly honored, the Grand Master sang the
following song which he had composed for the
occasion:--
“Vain thought! but had Burns ever witnessed a
meeting
Of souls so congenial, and warm’d with such fire,
The wild flow of fancy in ecstasy greeting,
Ah! what might have been the bold notes of his lyre?
As rays by reflection are doubled and doubled,
His bosom had swelled to your cheering reply,
Soft sympathy soothing the heart that was troubled,
A smile for his mirth, for his sorrow a sigh.
Admir’d but unaided, how dark was his story,
His struggles we know, and his efforts we prize;
From murky neglect, as the flame bursts to glory,
He rose, self-embalm’d, and detraction defies.
A ploughman he was: would that smiles of false favour
Had never decoyed him from home and his team,
And taught all his hopes and his wished to waver,
And snatching reality, left him a--dream.
To rank and to title, due deference owing,
We bow, as befitting society’s plan;
But judgment awaken’d, and sympathy glowing,
We pass all distinctions, and rest upon--man.
And from the poor hind, who, his day’s task
completed,
With industry’s pride to his hovel returns,
To him who in royalty’s splendour is seated,
If soul independent be found, ‘twas in Burns.
His birthrigh, his muse! like the lark in the
morning,
How blithely he caroll’d in praise of the fair;
With Nature enraptured and artifice scorning,
How sweet were his notes on the banks of the Ayr!
And near to that spot where his kindred dust
slumbers,
And mark’d by the bard on the tablets of fame,
And near the thatch’d roof where he first lisp’d his numbers,
We’ll raise a proud tribute to honour his name.”
On the 4th of July, 1823, Mr Fullarton of
Skeldon--in
presence of a vast assemblage of Freemasons and subscribers
--placed the tripod on the summit of the Monument, and
pronounced it finished. He afterwards delivered an appropriate
address.
“But what to us the sculptor’s art,
His
funeral columns, wreaths, and urns?
Wear we not graven on our heart,
The name of ROBERT BURNS?”
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