The Press. — London, England, 1857-09-19 00:00:00

921 fit start. The Poems of Carolina, Baroness Nairn. (Modern Scottish Minstrelsy.) Edited by Charles Rogers, LL.D. Edinburgh: A. and C. Black. WE have received for review six octavo volumes of a work called "Modern Scottish Minstrelsy," in which much mediocre verse is bound up side by side with some capital lyrics that do honour to the Caledonian muse. A large portion of the contents of this compiled publication is not better than what may be found in the corner-pieces of country journals. Songs by Sir Walter Scott, Thomas Campbell, Lockhart, Allan Cunningham, and many others, are inserted, and there are short biographical notices of the various writers. If this were all that the publication contained, we should only mention the fact of its being a compilation. But in its first volume nearly fifty pages are devoted to a poetess who has won for herselfan undying wreath amongst Scottish minstrels. We allude to Carolina, Baroness Nairn, some of whose admirable productions we must bring before our readers. Lady Nairn was author of some choice pieces that were ushered anonymously into the world. The new version of the " Laird of Cockpen," by far the best copy of the " Lass of Gowrie," the beauti ful song of the " Land o' the Leal," and the sweetly pathetic piece called " The Mitherless Lammie, belong to Lady Nairn, along with many other lyrics of scarcely less merit. Like Lady Anne Barnard (the authoress of "Auld Robin Gray") Lady Nairn was a friend of Sir Walter Scott, and she wore her honours with singular modesty. She was a woman of remarkable genius and genuine simplicity of character. She appreciated all the homely virtues of the poor, and felt deeply with their domestic sorrows. Her mind had a healthy vein of true natural piety, without cant or ostentation, and her writing was inspired by ennobling emotions. Of this most interesting and distinguished Scottish lady we find the following account here : Carolina Oliphant was horn in the old mansion of Gask, in the county of Perth, on the 16th of July, 1766. She was the third daughter and fifth child of Laurence Oliphant of Gask, who had espoused his cousin Margaret Robertson, a daughter of Duncan Robertson of Struan, and his wife a daughter of the fourth Lord Nairn. The Oliphants of Gask were cadets of the formerly noble house of Oliphant, whose ancestor, Sir William Oliphant of Aber dalgie, a puissant knight, acquired distinction in the beginning of the fourteenth century by defending the Castle of Stirling against a formidable siege by the first Edward. The family of Gask were devoted Jacobites ; the paternal grandfather of Carolina Oliphant had attended Prince Charles Edward as aide•de•camp during his disas trous campaign of 1715 6, and his spouse had indicated her sympathy to his cause by cutting out a lock of hia heir on the occasion of his accepting the hospitality of the family mansion. The portion of hair is preserved at Gask ; and Carolina Oliphant, in her song, "The Auld House," has thus celebrated the gentle deed of her progenitor : The Led , ly too, sae genty, There shelter'd ScotWO's heir, An' clipt a lock wi' her ain hand Free his king yellow hair. The estate of Cask escaped forfeiture, bat the father of Carolina did not renounce the Jacobite sentiments of his ancestors. He named the subject of this memoir Carolina, in honour of Prince Charles Edward ; and his prevailing topic of conversation was the reiterated ex pression of his hope that " the king would get his sin." Be would not permit the names of the reigning monarch anti his queen to be mentioned in his presence; and when impaired eyesight compelled him to seek the assistance of his family in rending the newspapers, he angrily reproved the reader if the " German lairdie and his leddie " were designated otherwise than by the initial letters, "K. and Q." 'this extreme Jacobitism at a period when the crime was scarcely to he dreaded, was reported to George 111., who is related to have confessed his respect for a man who had so consistently maintained his political sentiments. This gifted person, it appears, was beautiful as she was generous and good, and she was happily placed for tho development of her talents. It is said : Tn her youth, Carolina Oliphant was aingnlarly beau- tiful, and was known in her native district by the poetical designation of " The Flower of Strathearn," She was as remarkable for the precocity of her intellect, as she was celebrated for the elegance of her person. Descended by her mother from a family which, in one instance, at least, had afforded some evidence of poetical talents, and possessed of a correct musical car, she very early composed THE PRESS, SEPTEMBER 19,1857. verses for her favourite melodies. To the development of her native genius, her juvenile condition abundantly con• tributed : the locality of her birthplace, rich in landscape scenery, and asauciated with family traditions and legends of curious and chivalric adventure, might have been sutfl• cient to promote, in a mind less fertile than her own, senti. ments of poesy. In the application of her talents she was influenced by another incentive. A loose ribaldry tainted the songs and ballads which circulated among the peasantry, and she was convinced that the diffusion of a more wholesome minstrelsy would essentially elevate the moral tone of the community. Thus, while still young, she commenced to purify the older melodies, and to corn. pose new songs, which were ultimately destined to occupy an ample share of the national heart. The first piece that we ever saw from the pen of Lady Nairn was " The Mitherless Lammic," which many years ago we chanced to meet with in an obscure journal. Its purity of feeling and delicacy of touch are quite inimitable, and we rejoice to know that it is a favourite amongst the peasantry of Scotland : THE MITHERLESS LAM M IE. The mitherless lammie ne'er missed its sin mammie, We tentit it kindly by night and by day, The bairnies made game o't, it hail a blithe hame o't, Its food was the gowan—its music was "mai." Without tie or fetter, it couldna been better, lint it would gae witless the world to see ; The foe that it fear'd not, it saw not, it heard not, Was watching its wand'ring free Bonnington Lea. Oh, what then befell it, 't were wean' to tell it, Tod Lowrie kens best, wi his lang head sae sly; He met the pet lammie, that wanted its mammie, And left its kind Name the wide world to try. We miss'd it at day-dawn, we missed it at night-fa'in', Its wee shed is tenantless under the tree, Ae dusk i' the gloamin' it wad gae a roamin' ; T will frolic nae mair upon lionnington Lea. The moral of seduction and the fate of female wilfulness could scarcely be touched with more pathetic grace, and with less coarseness. If we are to trust tho statements that we have heard, and which we observe repeated by the editor of this compilation, a peerage was given (or at least revived) in consequence of one national song from Lady Nairn. It is said here : Carolina Oliphant had many suitors for her hand : she gave a preference to William Murray Nairn, her maternal cousin, aho had been Baron Nairn, barring the attainder of the title on account of the Jacobitism of the last Baron. The marriage was celebrated in June, 18013. At this period, Mr. Nairn was Assistant Inspector-General of Barracks in Scotland, and held the rank of major in the army. By Act of Parliament, on the 17th June, 1821, the attainder of the family was removed, the title of Baron being conferred on Major Nairn. This measure is reported to have been passed on the strong recommendation of George IV.; his Majesty having learned, during his state visit to Scotland in 1142..?,, that the !tong of" The Attainted Scottish Nobles" was the composition of Lady Nairn. The song is certainly one of the best apologies for Jacobitism. And the song runs thus: — Oh, some will tune their mournful strains, To tell o' hame•made sorrow, And if they cheat you o' your tears, They 'll dry upon the morrow. Oh, some will sing their airy dreams, In verity they're sportin', My sang's o' nae sic thieveless themes, But wakin' true misfortune. Ye Scottish nobles, ane and a', For loyalty attainted, A nameless bardie's was to see Your sorrows unlamented ; For if your fathers ne'er had fought For heirs of ancient royalty, Ye 're down the day that might hae been At the top o' honour's tree a'. For old hereditary right, For conscience' sake they stoutly stood; And for the crown their valiant sons Themselves have shed their injured blood ; And if their fathers ne'er bad fought For heirs of ancient royalty, They 're down the day that might hae been At the top o' honour's tree a'. There is boldness and pathos in these verses. Observe the vigour of the phrase in the first stanza, " thieveless themes," and the refrain is spirited and free. The rhyming, as is often the case with Scotch poets, is not consonant. " Snortin'" is made to rhyme with " misfor tune," and " royalty " is placed in metrical apposition to " tree a'." To a Gaelic car these assonant rhymes seem allowable, but our Southern tastes do not like them ; but Camp bell, and Scott also, largely indulged in them. In " The Lass of Gowrie," by Lady Nairn, there are many differences from the ordinary song. She tells a story and introduces a landscape with much effect. The first stanza is the same in both pieces, but Lady Nairn's poem is more of a ballad. Its second stanza thus proceeds : To see her cousin she cam' there, An', oh, the scene was passing fair For what in Scotland can compare Wi' the Carve o' Gowrie? The sun was setting on the Tay, The blue hills melting into gray ; The mavis' and the blackbird's lay Were -weetly heard in Cowrie. Oh, lang the lassie I had woo'd ! An' truth and constancy had vow'd, But cam' nae speed wi' her I lo'ed, Until she saw fair Gowrie. I pointed to my faither's ha', Yon bonny bield ayont the shaw, Sae loun' that there nae blast could blew; Wad she no bide in Gowrie? Her faither was baith glad and wae ; Her wither she wad naething say ; The hairnies thocht they wad get play If Kitty geed to Gowrie. She whiles did smile, she whiles did greet, The blush and tear were on her cheek; She naething said, an' hung her head; But now she's Leddy Gowrie. The annotation in this beautiful piece is not sufficiently critical. The version by William Reid is extremely low when compared with Lady Nairn's ballad. The piece called " The heiress" shows the rich humour, blended with pathos, of Lady Nairn's mind. It runs no be had for naething, • I'll no be had for naething, I tell ye, lads, that's ae thing, So ye needna follow me. Oh, the change is most surprising, Last year I was plain Betty Brown, Now to me they're a' aspiring,— The fair Elizabeth I ant grown! What siller does is most amazing, Nene o' them e'er look'd at me, Now my charms they a' are praising, For my sake they're like to dee. The Laird, the Shirrs, and the Doctor, Wi' twa three Lords o' high degree; Wi' heaps o' Writers I could mention — Oh, surely this is no me ! But I'll no, &c. And the conclusion is most gracefully turned : But there is ane, when I had naetbing, A' his heart he gi'ed to me; And sair he toil'd for a wee thing, To bring me when he cam' free sea. If ever I should marry ony, He will be the lad for me ; For he was baith gude and bonny, And he thought the same o' me. Sae I'll no, &c. Compare with the sly humour of the foregoing the extraordinary pathos of the following most beautiful verses. Balmy, indeed, is their music. and most touching is their melody to the ears of those suffering from recollection of the loved and lost : TRUE LOVE IS WATERED AYE Wl' TEARS. True love is water'd aye wi tears, It grows 'neath stormy skies, It's fenced around wi' hopes and fears An' fann'd wi heartfelt sighs. Wi' chains o' gowd it will no be bound, Oh ! wha the heart can buy The titled glare, the warldling's care, Even absence 'twill defy, Even absence 'twill defy. And time, that kills a' ither things, His withering touch 'twill brave, 'Twill live in joy, 'twill live in grief, 'Twill live beyond the grave! 'Twill live, 'twill live, though buried deep, In true heart's memorie— Oh ! we forgot that ane sae fair, Sae bricht, sae young, could dee, Sae young could dee. Unfeeling hands may touch the chord Where buried griefs do lie— How many silent agonies May that rude touch untie ! But, oh ! I love that plaintive lay— That dear auld melodie ! For, oh ! 'tis sweet !—yet I mann greet, For it was sung by thee, Sung by thee ! They may forget wha lichtly love, Or feel but beauty's chain ; But they wha loved a heavenly mind Can never love again ! A' my dreams o' warld's told Aye were turned wi' thee, But I leant on a broken reed Which soon was ta'en free me, Ta'en free me. 'Tie weel, 'tis weel, we dinna ken What we may live to see, 'Twas Mercy's hand that hung the veil O'er sstl futurity ! Oh, ye whose hearts are scathed and riven, %Vila feel the %%arid is vain, Oh, fix your broken earthly ties Where they ne'er will break again, Break again !