APPENDIX III
A LOWLAND PEASANT POET
I had not long ago a couple of poems put into my hands by one who, knowing the author, told me something of his life and circumstances. Being much struck by the poems I set to work to make inquiries in the hope of getting something further. But he seems to have written very little. His nephew copied out and sent The Auld Blasted Tree and added “I made inquiry of my aunt if she had any more; she says those you have seen along with this one I now enclose were all he wrote, at least the best of them.” The relatives allowed me to see the account of his funeral with an appreciation of the man as it appeared in the local newspaper. It ran as follows, and was published in The Peebleshire Advertiser, July 7, 1906.
THE LATE MR. FARQUHARSON, LONELYBIELD.
Our obituary of Saturday last contained the name of one whose memory will be for long in this district. We refer to the late Alexander Forrester Farquharson. His “mid name” takes us back to the first baptismal scene of by-gone long occupants of Linton Manse, viz., the Rev. Alexander Forrester, whose father, too, was minister before. Born in Carlops sixty-nine years ago, there are but few now amongst us who were children then. When six years old, his father, of the same vocation as himself, removed to the picturesque hamlet at the foot of the “Howe,” and here his lifetime was spent. Married to one of a family of long pastoral connection with our district, who still survives to cherish the happy memories of their long sojourn together, in this, their quiet and peaceful home, they reared their family. By his departure, there has gone from amongst us one of the finest types of Scotchmen that our country districts develop, both, it may be said, in lineaments of feature and character. But, added to the possession generally of the best features of our race, there was in him truly a special element, which seemed to be gathered from the classic scenes in which he was reared. It is not too much to say that his manner and language (quaint to a degree) were a living, embodied personification of the genius of the place, as pictured in the pages of the immortal Pastoral of Ramsay. Gifted with musical powers and some inspiration from the Muses—which, however, not often saw the light—these were fostered in his wanderings amid the lovely scenes, o’er moor and fell, whither his daily vocations led. And with such characteristics, added to his stores of local lore and story, and knowledge of bird, beast, and fossil, it may be gathered how entertaining were the “cracks” in the homesteads he visited, and how much these would be looked forward to and welcomed. And not less so were those in the cosy home in the “Bield,”[39] to which many a one of kindred spirit specially pilgrimaged. Evidence of this was ample from the large gathering from all parts to his resting-place with his “forbears” in Linton’s “auld kirkyaird.”
Thus far the newspaper of 1906; and a correspondent who knew the family writes under date March 18, 1912, “Alexander Forrester Farquharson (the subject of the foregoing notice) was born on Sept. 26, 1836, and was named Forrester after the minister of West Linton Parish. He was the son of Andrew Farquharson, mole catcher and small Farmer, and Isabella Cairns, both natives of the Carlops district who lived there at a house called Lonely Bield. Alexander lived in the same house, and followed his father’s occupation. His son died lately and the mother has now left the House.” From this somewhat meagre account we may gather that the whole of his life was spent in Nature’s lonely places
“up on the mountains, in among the hills”
and in this respect he resembles Allan Ramsay who drank in the poetry of Nature when a boy at Leadhills high up on the Crawford moor in Lanarkshire, where hills, glens, and burns, with birds and flowers and ever-changing skies were his to watch and study and take delight in, at the impressionable season of boyhood; whereby Nature herself laid the foundations of his poetic fancies. And this opportunity to walk with Nature came also to Farquharson, in even a greater measure than it did to Ramsay; for he, like Burns, lived and laboured in the country after he had grown to manhood. But Farquharson had not so good an education as the other two, nor did it fall to him, as it did to them, to have at the outset of his career books put into his hands which directed his attention more especially to poetry. Thus, what the selection of English Songs, which he called his Vade mecum, did for Burns, Watson’s collection of Scottish poems did for Ramsay, and among these, notably, one by Robt. Semphill called “The life and death of the Piper of Kilbarchan” and another by Hamilton of Gilbertfield, “The last dying words of Bonnie Heck.” Later, Hamilton, who by this poem first inspired Ramsay with the desire to write in verse, heartily recognised his merit and himself wrote of him
“O fam’d and celebrated Allan!
Renowned Ramsay! canty callan!
There’s nouther Hieland man nor Lawlan