MAY EVE, OR KATE OF ABERDEEN.
“Kate of Aberdeen” is, I believe, the work of poor Cunningham the player; of whom the following anecdote, though told before, deserves a recital. A fat dignitary of the church coming past Cunningham one Sunday, as the poor poet was busy plying a fishing-rod in some stream near Durham, his native country, his reverence reprimanded Cunningham very severely for such an occupation on such a day. The poor poet, with that inoffensive gentleness of manners which was his peculiar characteristic, replied, that he hoped God and his reverence would forgive his seeming profanity of that sacred day, “as he had no dinner to eat, but what lay at the bottom of that pool!” This, Mr. Woods, the player, who knew Cunningham well, and esteemed him much, assured me was true.
TWEED SIDE.
In Ramsay’s Tea-table Miscellany, he tells us that about thirty of the songs in that publication were the works of some young gentlemen of his acquaintance; which songs are marked with the letters D. C. &c.—Old Mr. Tytler of Woodhouselee, the worthy and able defender of the beauteous Queen of Scots, told me that the songs marked C, in the Tea-table, were the composition of a Mr. Crawfurd, of the house of Achnames, who was afterwards unfortunately drowned coming from France.—As Tytler was most intimately acquainted with Allan Ramsay, I think the anecdote may be depended on. Of consequence, the beautiful song of Tweed Side is Mr. Crawfurd’s, and indeed does great honour to his poetical talents. He was a Robert Crawfurd; the Mary he celebrates was a Mary Stewart, of the Castle-Milk family, afterwards married to a Mr. John Ritchie.
I have seen a song, calling itself the original Tweed Side, and said to have been composed by a Lord Yester. It consisted of two stanzas, of which I still recollect the first—
“When Maggy and I was acquaint,
I carried my noddle fu’ hie;
Nae lintwhite on a’ the green plain,
Nor gowdspink sae happy as me:
But I saw her sae fair and I lo’ed:
I woo’d, but I came nae great speed;
So now I maun wander abroad,
And lay my banes far frae the Tweed.”—
THE POSY.
It appears evident to me that Oswald composed his Roslin Castle on the modulation of this air.—In the second part of Oswald’s, in the three first bars, he has either hit on a wonderful similarity to, or else he has entirely borrowed the three first bars of the old air; and the close of both tunes is almost exactly the same. The old verses to which it was sung, when I took down the notes from a country girl’s voice, had no great merit.—The following is a specimen: