The Modern Scottish Minstrel, Volumes 1-6. / The Songs of Scotland of the Past Half Century

ALEXANDER WILSON.

The author of the celebrated "American Ornithology" is entitled to an honourable commemoration as one of the minstrels of his native land. Alexander Wilson was born at Paisley on the 6th of July 1766. His father had for some time carried on a small trade as a distiller; but the son was destined by his parents for the clerical profession, in the National Church—a scheme which was frustrated by the death of his mother in his tenth year, leaving a large family of children to the sole care of his father. He had, however, considerably profited by the instruction already received at school; and having derived from his mother a taste for music and a relish for books, he invoked the muse in solitude, and improved his mind by miscellaneous reading. His father contracted a second marriage when Alexander had reached his thirteenth year; and it became necessary that he should prepare himself for entering upon some handicraft employment. He became an apprentice to his brother-in-law, William Duncan, a weaver in his native town; and on completing his indenture, he wrought as a journeyman, during the three following years, in the towns of Paisley, Lochwinnoch, and Queensferry. But the occupation of weaving, which had from the first been unsuitable to his tastes, growing altogether irksome, he determined to relinquish it for a vocation which, if in some respects scarcely more desirable, afforded him ample means of gratifying his natural desire of becoming familiar with the topography of his native country. He provided himself with a pack, as a pedlar, and in this capacity, in company with his brother-in-law, continued for three years to lead a wandering life. His devotedness to verse-making had continued unabated from boyhood; he had written verses at the loom, and had become an enthusiastic votary of the muse during his peregrinations with his pack. He was now in his twenty-third year; and with the buoyancy of ardent youth, he thought of offering to the public a volume of his poems by subscription. In this attempt he was not successful; nor would any bookseller listen to proposals of publishing the lucubrations of an obscure pedlar. In 1790, he at length contrived to print his poems at Paisley, on his own account, in the hope of being able to dispose of them along with his other wares. But this attempt was not more successful than his original scheme, so that he was compelled to return to his father's house at Lochwinnoch, and resume the obnoxious shuttle. His aspirations for poetical distinction were not, however, subdued; he heard of the institution of the Forum, a debating society established in Edinburgh by some literary aspirants, and learning, in 1791, that an early subject of discussion was the comparative merits of Ramsay and Fergusson as Scottish poets, he prepared to take a share in the competition. By doubling his hours of labour at the loom, he procured the means of defraying his travelling expenses; and, arriving in time for the debate in the Forum, he repeated a poem which he had prepared, entitled the "Laurel Disputed," in which he gave the preference to Fergusson. He remained several weeks in Edinburgh, and printed his poem. To Dr Anderson's "Bee" he contributed several poems, and a prose essay, entitled "The Solitary Philosopher." Finding no encouragement to settle in the metropolis, he once more returned to his father's house in the west. He now formed the acquaintance of Robert Burns, who testified his esteem for him both as a man and a poet. In 1792, he published anonymously his popular ballad of "Watty and Meg," which he had the satisfaction to find regarded as worthy of the Ayrshire Bard.

The star of the poet was now promising to be in the ascendant, but an untoward event ensued. In the ardent enthusiasm of his temperament, he was induced to espouse in verse the cause of the Paisley hand-loom operatives in a dispute with their employers, and to satirise in strong invective a person of irreproachable reputation. For this offence he was prosecuted before the sheriff, who sentenced him to be imprisoned for a few days, and publicly to burn his own poem in the front of the jail. This satire is entitled "The Shark; or, Long Mills detected." Like many other independents, he mistook anarchy in France for the dawn of liberty in Europe; and his sentiments becoming known, he was so vigilantly watched by the authorities, that he found it was no longer expedient for him to reside in Scotland. He resolved to emigrate to America; and, contriving by four months' extra labour, and living on a shilling weekly, to earn his passage-money, he sailed from Portpatrick to Belfast, and from thence to Newcastle, in the State of Delaware, where he arrived on the 14th July 1794. During the voyage he had slept on deck, and when he landed, his finances consisted only of a few shillings; yet, with a cheerful heart, he walked to Philadelphia, a distance of thirty-three miles, with only his fowling-piece on his shoulder. He shot a red-headed woodpecker by the way,—an omen of his future pursuits, for hitherto he had devoted no attention to the study of ornithology.

He was first employed by a copperplate-printer in Philadelphia, but quitted this occupation for the loom, at which he worked about a year in Philadelphia, and at Shepherdstown, in Virginia. In 1795, he traversed a large portion of the State of New Jersey as a pedlar, keeping a journal,—a practice which he had followed during his wandering life in Scotland. He now adopted the profession of a schoolmaster, and was successively employed in this vocation at Frankford, in Pennsylvania, at Milestown, and at Bloomfield, in New Jersey. In preparing himself for the instruction of others, he essentially extended his own acquaintance with classical learning, and mathematical science; and by occasional employment as a land-surveyor, he somewhat improved his finances. In 1801, he accepted the appointment of teacher in a seminary in Kingsessing, on the river Schuylkill, about four miles from Philadelphia,—a situation which, though attended with limited emolument, proved the first step in his path to eminence. He was within a short distance of the residence of William Bartram, the great American naturalist, with whom he became intimately acquainted; he also formed the friendship of Alexander Lawson, an emigrant engraver, who initiated him in the art of etching, colouring, and engraving. Discovering an aptitude in the accurate delineation of birds, he was led to the study of ornithology; with which he became so much interested, that he projected a work descriptive, with drawings, of all the birds of the Middle States, and even of the Union. About this period he became a contributor to the "Literary Magazine," conducted by Mr Brockden Brown, and to Denny's "Portfolio."

Along with a nephew and another friend, Wilson made a pedestrian tour to the Falls of Niagara, in October 1804, and on his return published in the "Portfolio" a poetical narrative of his journey, entitled "The Foresters,"—a production surpassing his previous efforts, and containing some sublime apostrophes. But his energies were now chiefly devoted to the accomplishment of the grand design he had contemplated. Disappointed in obtaining the co-operation of his friend Mr Lawson, who was alarmed at the extent of his projected adventure, and likewise frustrated in obtaining pecuniary assistance from the President Jefferson, on which he had some reason to calculate, he persevered in his attempts himself, drawing, etching, and colouring the requisite illustrations. In 1806, he was employed as assistant-editor of a new edition of Rees' Cyclopedia, by Mr Samuel Bradford, bookseller in Philadelphia, who rewarded his services with a liberal salary, and undertook, at his own risk, the publication of his "Ornithology." The first volume of the work appeared in September 1808, and immediately after its publication the author personally visited, in the course of two different expeditions, the Eastern and Southern States, in quest of subscribers. These journeys were attended with a success scarcely adequate to the privations which were experienced in their prosecution; but the "Ornithology" otherwise obtained a wide circulation, and, excelling in point of illustration every production that had yet appeared in America, gained for the author universal commendation. In January 1810, his second volume appeared, and in a month after he proceeded to Pittsburg, and from thence, in a small skiff, made a solitary voyage down the Ohio, a distance of nearly six hundred miles. During this lonely and venturous journey he experienced relaxation in the composition of a poem, which afterwards appeared under the title of "The Pilgrim." In 1813, after encountering numerous hardships and perils, which an enthusiast only could have endured, he completed the publication of the seventh volume of his great work. But the sedulous attention requisite in the preparation of the plates of the eighth volume, and the effect of a severe cold, caught in rashly throwing himself into a river to swim in pursuit of a rare bird, brought on him a fatal dysentery, which carried him off, on the 23d of August 1813, in his forty-eighth year. He was interred in the cemetery of the Swedish church, Southwark, Philadelphia, where a plain marble monument has been erected to his memory. A ninth volume was added to the "Ornithology" by Mr George Ord, an intimate friend of the deceased naturalist; and three supplementary volumes have been published, in folio, by Charles Lucien Bonaparte, uncle of the present Emperor of the French.

Amidst his extraordinary deserts as a naturalist, the merits of Alexander Wilson as a poet have been somewhat overlooked. His poetry, it may be remarked, though unambitious of ornament, is bold and vigorous in style, and, when devoted to satire, is keen and vehement. The ballad of "Watty and Meg," though exception may be taken to the moral, is an admirable picture of human nature, and one of the most graphic narratives of the "taming of a shrew" in the language. Allan Cunningham writes: "It has been excelled by none in lively, graphic fidelity of touch: whatever was present to his eye and manifest to his ear, he could paint with a life and a humour which Burns seems alone to excel."[41] In private life, Wilson was a model of benevolence and of the social virtues; he was devoid of selfishness, active in beneficence, and incapable of resentment. Before his departure for America, he waited on every one whom he conceived he had offended by his juvenile escapades, and begged their forgiveness; and he did not hesitate to reprove Burns for the levity too apparent in some of his poems. To his aged father, who survived till the year 1816, he sent remittances of money as often as he could afford; and at much inconvenience and pecuniary sacrifice, he established the family of his brother-in-law on a farm in the States. He was sober even to abstinence; and was guided in all his transactions by correct Christian principles. In person, he was remarkably handsome; his countenance was intelligent, and his eye sparkling. He never attained riches, but few Scotsmen have left more splendid memorials of their indomitable perseverance.[42]

CONNEL AND FLORA.

i., 139.

Sing not to me of sunny shores, vol. vi., 155.

Sing on, fairy Devon, vol. vi., 104.

Sing on, thou little bird, vol. ii., 286.

Sister Jeanie, haste, we 'll go, vol. v., 166.

Soldier, rest! thy warfare 's o'er, vol. i., 294.

Songs of my native land, vol. i., 220.

Star of descending night, vol. iv., 92.

Stay, proud bird of the shore, vol. iv., 141.

St Leonard's hill was lightsome land, vol. i., 228.

Sublime is Scotia's mountain land, vol. vi., 169.

Summer ocean, vol. vi., 61.

Surrounded wi' bent and wi' heather, vol. i., 265.

Sweet bard of Ettrick's glen, vol. iv., 75.

Sweet 's the gloamin's dusky gloom, vol. vi., 94.

Sweet 's the dew-deck'd rose in June, vol. iv., 101.

Sweetly shines the sun on auld Edinbro' toun, vol. iv., 239.

Sweet summer now is by, vol. iv., 275.

Sweet the rising mountains, red with heather bells, vol. vi., 254.

Talk not of temples—there is one, vol. iii., 152.
Taste life's glad moments, vol. ii., 212.
Tell me, Jessie, tell me why? vol. i., 122.
Tell me, dear! in mercy speak, vol. vi., 131.
The auld meal mill, oh! the auld meal mill, vol. v., 230.
The bard strikes his harp the wild valleys among, vol. ii., 249.
The bard strikes his harp the wild woods among, vol. v., 50.
The beacons blazed, the banners flew, vol. v., 38.
The best o' joys maun hae an end, vol. i., 209.
The blackbird's hymn is sweet, vol. iv., 145.
The bonnie, bonnie bairn, sits pokin' in the ase, vol. v., 201.
The bonnie rowan bush, vol. iv., 231.
The bonniest lass in a' the warld, vol. i., 201.
The breath o' spring is gratefu', vol. v., 143.
The bride she is winsome and bonnie, vol. i., 148.
The bucket, the bucket, the bucket for me, vol. iv., 223.
The cantie spring scarce reared her head, vol. iii., 52.
The cranreuch's on my head, vol. vi., 107.
The dark gray o' gloamin', vol. iv., 243.
The dawn is breaking, but lonesome and eerie, vol. iii., 274.
The daylight was dying, the twilight was dreary, vol. vi., 72.
The dreary reign of winter's past, vol. v., 55.
The e'e o' the dawn, Eliza, vol. iv., 146.
The fairies are dancing, how nimbly they bound, vol. ii., 273.
The favouring wind pipes aloft in the shrouds, vol. vi., 26.
The fields, the streams, the skies, are fair, vol. v., 267.
The gathering clans 'mong Scotia's glens, vol. iv., 52.
The gloamin' star was showerin', vol. vi., 106.
The gloom of dark despondency, vol. vi., 193.
The gloomy days are gone, vol. v., 218.
The golden smile of morning, vol. vi., 122.
The gowan glitters on the sward, vol. i., 143.
The happy days of yore, vol. vi., 156.
The harvest morn breaks, vol. iv., 266.
T wrong, vol. vi., 69.
Welcome, pretty little stranger, vol. i., 257.
We 'll meet beside the dusky glen on yon burn-side, vol. ii., 140.
We 'll meet yet again, my loved fair one, when o'er us, vol. iv., 53.
We part, yet wherefore should I weep, vol. v., 105.
Were I a doughty cavalier, vol. v., 127.
Were I but able to rehearse, vol. i., 17.
We were baith neebor bairns, thegither we play'd, vol. vi., 185.
Wha 'll buy caller herrin', vol. i., 195.
Whan Jamie first woo'd me he was but a youth, vol. iii., 25.
Whare hae ye been a' day, vol. i., 83.
What ails my heart—what dims my e'e? vol. v., 253.
What ails ye, my lassie, my dawtie, my ain? vol. vi., 78.
What are the flowers of Scotland, vol. ii., 66.
What fond, delicious ecstasy does early love impart, vol. vi., 85.
What makes this hour a day to me? vol. v., 33.
What though ye hae nor kith nor kin, vol. v., 238.
What 's this vain world to me, vol. i., 236.
What wakes the poet's lyre, vol. iv., 91.
When a' ither bairnies are hush'd to their hame, vol. iii., 123.
When autumn comes and heather bells, vol. iv., 132.
When Charlie to the Highlands came, vol. ii., 180.
When cities of old days, vol. iv., 156.
When first I cam' to be a man, vol. i., 13.
When fops and fools together prate, vol. i., 31.
When friendship, love, and truth abound, vol. i., 253.
When hope lies dead within the heart, vol. i., 45.
When I began the world first, vol. i., 33.
When I look far down on the valley below me, vol. iv., 169.
When I think on the lads and the land I hae left, vol. v., 66.
When I think on the sweet smiles o' my lassie, vol. ii., 307.
When I was a miller in Fife, vol. iii., 92.
When Katie was scarce out nineteen, vol. i., 157.
When loud the horn is sounding, vol. vi., 63.
When merry hearts were gay, vol. i., 92.
When my flocks upon the heathy hill are lyin' a' at rest, vol. iv., 49.
When others are boasting 'bout fetes and parades, vol. v., 153.
When rosy day far in the west has vanish'd frae the scene, vol. v., 151.
When sets the sun o'er Lomond's height, vol. ii., 183.
When shall we meet again, vol. iv., 81.
When the bee has left the blossom, vol. v., 73.
When the fair one and the dear one, vol. ii., 190.
When the glen all is still save the stream of the fountain, vol. iv., 58.
When the lark is in the air, vol. iii., 158.
When the maid of my heart, with the dark rolling eye, vol. iv., 270.
When the morning's first ray saw the mighty in arms, vol. iv., 79.
When the sheep are in the fauld, vol. i., 64.
When the star of the morning is set, vol. iv., 66.
When the sun gaes down, vol. v., 109.
When thy smile was still clouded, vol. ii., 282.
When we meet again, Lisette, vol. vi., 190.
When white was my owrelay, vol. i., 134.
When winter winds forget to blaw, vol. i.,

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