The record-union., 1893-10-07

"
interest. Much of it's poetic glamor is OF
course due TO the personality and pen OF
burns. Every object you look upon
iron Dumfries to Craigdarroch has been
given almost individuality, life, and GER
taInly undying interest from his personal
association or the magic of his muse.
From the ancient Observatory in the
MaXwelltown, opposite Dumfries, which
must be Kept distinct in the mind trom
Annie Laurie's village birthplace of Max
WelItoWn, few miles distant, one can
see and feel the tenderness OF complete
identification. The eye ranges to the east
over and beyond fair Annandale; across
k1rkcud dbrightshire, to the west, to the
noble hills skirting Ayrshire: to the
north, up dreamland Nithsdale to the
Tar, dim turretS OF Drumlanrlg Castle;
and to the south to the vast expanse OF
of Solway Firth, where, to the right OF
Nlthsmouth, looms graybrOwed Criifel;
While to its left Is caught gleam OF the
sands at Brow Well, at whose waters
Burns too late struggled TO save his life.
Thus, almost at glance, not only does
the bewitching cyelorama give the be-
holder the entire field of the everyday
scenes of the poets life during his last
eight memorable years, but at the same
instant comprehension of the three most
impressive ep0chs in his career of which
we can have memory-the home-heaVen
Of Ellisland of farm life, The wretched
fight against poverty in the gray old bor-
der town beneath us, and that last una
yailing struggle at Brow Well, by Sol
ways shifting sands, all made ineXpres-
sibly more Impressive by the dome of the
silent mausolem, over there in that shad-
owy kirkyard, looming before us wher-
ever we may look for the recognition of
his old time presence within the fair re-
giOn roundabout.
There, too, in Bank street is the "Wee
Nennel," in whose upper three little
rooms the bard and his family lived
when Burns was driven from the Ellis
land farm by ruinous crops to the more
ruinous life of eXcisemen; the old "Globe
Tavern" just as 1t stood in Burns time
in which, unhappy as is the fact for con-
temptation, one seems now almost TO
hear his thrilling voice, mingled with the
laughter OF Syme, Maxwell, landlord
HyslOp and his wife Meg, and their siren
barmaid, Anna of the gowden locks;"
the little close behind the ''howf7' or tav-
ern, where poor Burns, brain-beclouded
and bewildered that bitter January night
OF 1886, upon the straw and refuse, just at
the edge of Shakespeare street, and insen-
sible until the morn, received the chill
of death that never left him, though he
fingered conscious of his fate, until the
2lst of July following, and there, just
back OF this sad spot on Burns street, III
the poets time, Mill street, is the verita-
ble cottage where he lived and died.
Every square yard Of Dumfries town is
aglow with some touching reminder of
burns. And were this not enough to
hold heart and mind to the locality, what
vivid reminders of Scottish history are
here! And there, near where rises the
lofty spire OF Greyfriar's Church, once
stood the monastery of Greyfriars in
which the avenging hand of Bruce struck
the blow which set in march the mighty
events leading to Scotland's most glori-
Gus greatness and power.
Pilgriming from Dumfries, distance
of but twelve miles to CraigdarrOch, the
home, of Annie Laurie from the time of
her marriage to Alexander Ferguson in
1909, until her death in I76l, at the age of
E9 years, you cross the "new Brig' to
the west, and are at once among the braes
Of the Dumtries MaXweltoWn. The
shore side OF this ancient hamlet remind
you OF scores of other sleepy 'auld clach-
ans of Scotland" but the streets upon
the gentle nights are full OF tree-em bow
cred villas; and have a sleepy, sunShiny
look OF comfort and content. Once out
upon the highWay-the ancient coach
road between Dumfries and Glasgow-it
winds over brae and hill, through dale
and dingle, over beck and burn, through
shadOwy avenues and patches of sun
shine, past deserted clanchans and now
silent old inns of call. with the songs OF
streams and birds ever in your ears, a
long and wiusOme way. When past the
outlying village habitations you will see
down there to the right the picturesque
ruins Of Lincluden Abbey, but a few mo-
menps walk from the highway, as beau
tifuily situated as those of Dryburgh on
the Tweed, where EepOse the remains Of
Sir Walter Scott. Beneath the shadows
OF its majestic walls lies Margaret, the
daughter OF King Robert III. OF Scotland
The fine old bridge near by at which you
tarry-for there IS pretty scene OF sheep
shearing going on beneath the shade of
the willows just aboVe-crosses the River
Cluden, a small and tuneful stream. 1t
bounds merrily along through copse and
between emerald haughs below, sweeps
around the ancient abbey walls and en-
tering the NTH, broadens into deep
pool or linn. Hence linn Cluden, "the
Cluden pool,n and the name of the grand
old monastic pile, Lincluden Abbey,
which towers at its edge above.
If you proceeded five miles further on
this highway you would reach EIlisland,
on the west bank Of the NTH, for many
years the farm home of Burns, but turn
ing to the left you enter a lovely region,
and in half an hours walk come to Iron
gray Church beside Cairn water. Here
you will tarry for a little, for within its
grass grown churchyard you will find
the grave of "Jeanie Deans" immortal
lied in Heart of Midlothian" and the
inscription on the table tombstone was
written by Scott himself. 1t is now but
a short and a sunny distance TO the real
MaxwelltOwn of Douglas verse, to Mo
niavie and Craigdarroch collection of
country seats and hamlets, most interest
ing from their age, beauty of environ
ment and absence of all the modern fash
iOnings which the railways have brought
to many other equally ancient Scottish
towns. On your way, at moss-grown old
DunscOre, you come upon another re-
minder of the bloody days in the tomb OF
Sir Robert Grierson, whose memory is
loathed like ''popery'' by every descend
ent Of the Covenanters.
Midway between Dunscore and Mouia-
vie is still more ancient GIencairn, for
more than a thousand years site of the
parish church. 1t was at Glencairn
Church that Annie Laurie was baptized.
The entire region is one of the most beau
tiful in Scotland, and full Of relics of feu-
dial wealth and power, An hundred hills,
many crowned by the still noble ruins of
massive square keeps, are in view; scores
of misty, opulent daleS and glens greet
the eye, and well-kept farms and dream
ful olden hamlets are interspersed with
splendid seats Of lairds and country gem
try. 1t was in such a spot whose count
less verdure-covered "braes" might well
prompt poetic fervor We're not The inspi-
ration of love behind, that Douglas
wooed and Won and lost, aud that Annie
Laurie chose to contentedly remain the
honored wife of a country gentleman,
rathe than share the fortune of a poets
and "a political adventurer's doubtful ca
reer.
The old manor house of Max yelltown
is gone. bat many relics of the heroine OF
the song are religiously preserved in the
neigh hb0rhood. Craigdarroch, her home