Towards the close of the sixteenth century, while the pages of English poetry were receiving their richest contributions from the pens of Spenser, Shakespeare, and their comrade Elizabethans, the most famous, almost the sole singer left in the north was the author of “The Cherrie and the Slae.” Amid the moroseness and ecclesiastic strife which shadowed those closing years while James the Sixth still ruled at Holyrood, this voice still sang sweetly of love and laughter, of dewy nights and the lark’s morning song. Alexander Montgomerie was a younger son of Montgomerie of Hazelhead, in Ayrshire, a scion of the noble house of Eglinton. The date of his birth remains uncertain; beyond that it was, as he himself says, “on Eister day at morne;” but he is believed to have first seen the light at Hazelhead Castle about 1545. According to references in his works, it appears that he was educated somewhere in Argyleshire. In any case it is certain that he was a man of culture and refined tastes. Of good social position, related by intermarriage with the Mures of Rowallan and the Semples of Castle Semple, he was the In Montgomerie there appears a curious reflection, though in fainter colours, of the fate and character of Dunbar. Like the great makar of James the Fourth’s time, he was the scion of a noble house. In his verse appear the same eager efforts to secure favour at Court, the same bitterness at disappointment, and the If lose of guids, if gritest grudge or grief, If povertie, imprisonment, or pane, If for guid-will ingratitude agane, If languishing in langour but relief, If det, if dolour, and to become deif, If travell tint and labour lost in vane, Do properly to poets appertane, Of all that craft my chance is to be chief. Like Dunbar, Montgomerie appears to have become serious in his later years, “the productions of which,” to quote his latest editor, “breathe a tender melancholy and unaffected piety, inspired with hopes of a fairer future, in strange contrast to some of his earlier work.” To the spirit of these years must also be attributed a metrical version of Psalms, fifteen in number, apparently part of a complete metrical paraphrase which he, in conjunction with some other writers, offered to execute for the public free of charge. It is gathered from the anonymous publication of this collection of Psalms, entitled “The Mindes Melodie,” According to his own poetic statement, he was small of stature, fairly good-looking, and afflicted with the painful disease of gravel. Most of Montgomerie’s poems have been preserved respectively in the Drummond, the Maitland, and the Bannatyne MSS. After many separate editions of the chief pieces, the whole of the poems were for the first time collected into one volume (Edinburgh, 1821) by David Laing, with a biographical notice by Dr. Irving, the historian of Scottish poetry. The only other complete edition is that by Dr. James Cranstoun (Scottish Text Society, 1885–87). The latter, in the present volume, is regarded as the standard text. “The Cherrie and the Slae,” Montgomerie’s chief effort, has ever since its composition been one of the most popular of Scottish poems, no fewer than twenty-three editions of it having been printed since 1597. The intention of the allegory, according to Pinkerton, was to show that moderate pleasures are better than high ones. But Dempster, who translated it into Latin, considered it to be, first, a love allegory, picturing a young man’s choice between a humble and a high-born mistress, and afterwards the pourtrayal of a struggle between virtue and vice. Most readers are likely to agree with Dr. Cranstoun in considering Dempster’s solution correct, believing with him that Of the poet’s other works the longest extant is “The Flyting betwixt Montgomerie and Polwart,” a tournament of Rabelaisian humour in the style of the famous “Flyting of Dunbar and Kennedie.” Its chief interest, for poetic qualities it has none, is as a specimen of a class of composition—the mock duel of vituperation between good friends—which was in those times considered an amusing literary performance. His sonnets, “characterised by great poetic skill and singular felicity of diction,” furnish no mean contribution to the stores of a verse-form then greatly cultivated, while his miscellaneous poems, nearly all amatory, exhibit mastery of a great variety of measures. Sometimes, however, the tone of these appears affected to a modern ear, and their imagery apt to descend into conceits. There remains, preserved by the Maitland MS., another poem, “The Bankis of Helicon,” a love lyric of great charm, which long enjoyed the reputation of being the earliest piece written in the stanza of “The Greater in manner than in matter, Montgomerie’s verse owes its charm to finish and grace rather than to vigour and imagination, affording rather a late reflection of the early glories of the century than the glow of a new inspiration; nevertheless it has remained constantly popular, a surprising number of its lines having become household words in the shape of proverbs; it claims the credit, along with Dunbar’s work, of furnishing models both to Allan Ramsay and to Burns; and, beyond all its Scottish contemporaries, it possesses intrinsic qualities which assure it an enduring fame. In deid-thraw vndeceist Quha, thocht For to pull out hir heid, Quhilk profitis nathing at the lenth Bot haistes hir to hir deid With wristing and thristing The faster still is scho; Thair I so did lye so, My death advancing to. The mair I wrestlit with the wynd The faschter Na mirth my mynd micht mease Mair noy I was sa alterit and ouirgane Throw drowth Than weakly, as I micht, I rayis; My sicht grewe dim and dark; I stakkerit at the windilstrayis Na takin Baith sichtles and michtles, I grew almaist at ainis In angwische I langwische With mony grievous grainis With sober pace I did approche Hard to the riuer and the roche Quhairof I spak befoir; Quhais running sic a murmure maid, That to the sey it softlie slaid; The craig was high and schoir Than pleasur did me so prouok Perforce thair to repaire, Betuix the riuer and the rok, Quhair Hope grew with Dispaire. A trie than I sie than Of Cherries in the braes. Belaw, to, I saw, to, The Cherries hang abune my heid, Like twinkland rubies round and reid, So hich vp in the hewch Quhais schaddowis in the riuer schew, Als graithlie On trimbling twistis tewch Quhilk bowed throu burding of thair birth Inclining downe thair toppis, Reflex of Phoebus of the firth Newe colourit all thair knoppis With dansing and glansing In tirles dornik champ Ay streimand and gleimand Throw brichtnes of that lamp. With earnest eye quhil I espye The fruit betuixt me and the skye, Halfe-gaite The craig sa cumbersume to clim, The trie sa hich of growth, and trim As ony arrowe evin, I cald to mind how Daphne did Within the laurell schrink, Quhen from Apollo scho hir hid. A thousand times I think That trie then to me then, As he his laurell thocht; Aspyring but tyring To get that fruit I socht. To clime the craige it was na buit Lat be to presse In top of all the trie. I saw na way quhairby to cum Be ony craft to get it clum, William Hodge & Co., Printers, Glasgow |