Letter from Robert Burns to Mrs Dunlop, 25 January 1790
Ellisland 25th Jan.ry 1790
It has been owing to unremitting hurry of business that I have
not written you, Madam, long ere now. - My health is greatly
better, and I now begin once more to share in satisfaction
and enjoyment with the rest of my fellow-creatures -
Many thanks, my much-esteemed Friend, for your
kind letters: only why will you make me run the risk
of being contemptible & mercenary in my own eyes?
When I pique myself on my independent spirit, I
hope it is neither Poetic licence nor Poetic rant; and
I am so flattered with the honour you have done me in making
me your Compeer in Friendship & Friendly Correspondence,
that I cannot without pain & a degree of mortification
be reminded of the real inequality between out situations. -
Most sincerely do I rejoice with you, dear Madam,
in the good news of Anthony. - Not only your anxiety
about his fate, but esteem my own esteem for such
a Nobel, warm-hearted manly young fellow, in the
little snatch I had of his acquaintance, has interested me
deeply in his fortunes. -
It has been owing to unremitting hurry of business that I have
not written you, Madam, long ere now. - My health is greatly
better, and I now begin once more to share in satisfaction
and enjoyment with the rest of my fellow-creatures -
Many thanks, my much-esteemed Friend, for your
kind letters: only why will you make me run the risk
of being contemptible & mercenary in my own eyes?
When I pique myself on my independent spirit, I
hope it is neither Poetic licence nor Poetic rant; and
I am so flattered with the honour you have done me in making
me your Compeer in Friendship & Friendly Correspondence,
that I cannot without pain & a degree of mortification
be reminded of the real inequality between out situations. -
Most sincerely do I rejoice with you, dear Madam,
in the good news of Anthony. - Not only your anxiety
about his fate, but esteem my own esteem for such
a Nobel, warm-hearted manly young fellow, in the
little snatch I had of his acquaintance, has interested me
deeply in his fortunes. -
Falconer, the poor unfortunate Author of the Shipwreck, that
glorious Poem which you so much admire, is no more. -
After weathering that dreadful, catastrophe he so feelingly
describes in his Poem, and after weathering many hard
gales of Fortune, he went to the bottom with the Aurora
frigate! I forget what part of Scotland had the honour of giving
him birth, but he was the son of obscurity & misfortune. -
He was one of these daring adventurous spirits which
old Caledonia beyond any other nation is remarkable
for producing. - Little does the fond Mother think
as she hangs delighted over the sweet little Leech at
he bosom, where the poor fellow may hereafter ^wander and
what may be his fate. - I remember a Stanza in an
old Scots Ballad which notwithstanding its rude simplicity
speaks feelingly to the heart. -
"Little did my Mother think,
"That day she cradled me,
"What Land I was to travel in,
"Or what death I should die!"
Old Scots Songs are, you know, a favourite study & pursuit of
mine, and now I am on that subject allow me to give
you two stanzas of another old simple Ballad which I am
glorious Poem which you so much admire, is no more. -
After weathering that dreadful, catastrophe he so feelingly
describes in his Poem, and after weathering many hard
gales of Fortune, he went to the bottom with the Aurora
frigate! I forget what part of Scotland had the honour of giving
him birth, but he was the son of obscurity & misfortune. -
He was one of these daring adventurous spirits which
old Caledonia beyond any other nation is remarkable
for producing. - Little does the fond Mother think
as she hangs delighted over the sweet little Leech at
he bosom, where the poor fellow may hereafter ^wander and
what may be his fate. - I remember a Stanza in an
old Scots Ballad which notwithstanding its rude simplicity
speaks feelingly to the heart. -
"Little did my Mother think,
"That day she cradled me,
"What Land I was to travel in,
"Or what death I should die!"
Old Scots Songs are, you know, a favourite study & pursuit of
mine, and now I am on that subject allow me to give
you two stanzas of another old simple Ballad which I am
sure will please you. - The catastrophe of the Piece is, a
poor ruined Female lamenting her fate. - She concludes
with this pathetic wish -
"O that my father had ne'er on me smil'd;
"O that my Mother had ne'er to me sung!
"O that my cradle it had never rock'd;
"But that I had died when I was young!
"O that the Grave it were my bed;
"My blankets were, my winding sheet;
"The clocks & the worms my bedfellows a' ;
"And O, sae sound as I would sleep! "
I do not remember in all my reading to have met with
any thing more truly the language of Misery than the
exclamation in the last line. - Misery is like Love;
to speak its language truly, the Author must have felt
it. -
I am every day expecting the doctor to give your little
Godson the smallpox. - They are rife in the country, & I
tremble for his fate. - By the way, I cannot help congratulating
you on his looks & spirit. - Every Person
who sees him acknowledges him to be the finest, handsomest
child they have ever seen. - I am myself
poor ruined Female lamenting her fate. - She concludes
with this pathetic wish -
"O that my father had ne'er on me smil'd;
"O that my Mother had ne'er to me sung!
"O that my cradle it had never rock'd;
"But that I had died when I was young!
"O that the Grave it were my bed;
"My blankets were, my winding sheet;
"The clocks & the worms my bedfellows a' ;
"And O, sae sound as I would sleep! "
I do not remember in all my reading to have met with
any thing more truly the language of Misery than the
exclamation in the last line. - Misery is like Love;
to speak its language truly, the Author must have felt
it. -
I am every day expecting the doctor to give your little
Godson the smallpox. - They are rife in the country, & I
tremble for his fate. - By the way, I cannot help congratulating
you on his looks & spirit. - Every Person
who sees him acknowledges him to be the finest, handsomest
child they have ever seen. - I am myself
delighted with the manly swell of his little chest, and a
certain miniature dignity in the carriage of his head & the gla-
of his fine black eye, which promise the undaunted gallantry of an
Independant Mind. -
M.rs Dunlop of Dunlop
Dunlop- house
Stewarton
I thought to have sent you some rhymes, but time forbids.-
I promise you Poetry until you are tired of it next time
I have the honour of assuring you how truly
I am,. Dear Madam, your obliged humble serv.t
R.B.
certain miniature dignity in the carriage of his head & the gla-
of his fine black eye, which promise the undaunted gallantry of an
Independant Mind. -
M.rs Dunlop of Dunlop
Dunlop- house
Stewarton
I thought to have sent you some rhymes, but time forbids.-
I promise you Poetry until you are tired of it next time
I have the honour of assuring you how truly
I am,. Dear Madam, your obliged humble serv.t
R.B.
Key details
- Archive number
- NTS/02/25/BRN/01/120
- Alt. number
- 3.6355
- Date
- 25 January 1790
- On display
- No
- Creator
- Burns, Robert (Author)
- Archive number
- NTS/02/25/BRN/01/120
- Alt. number
- 3.6355
- Date
- 25 January 1790
- On display
- No
- Creator
- Burns, Robert (Author)
Description
Letter from Robert Burns to Mrs Dunlop, dated Ellisland, 25 January 1790.
Following the death of her elderly husband in 1785, Mrs Francis Anna Wallace Dunlop (1730 - 1815) was suffering from depression when a friend gave her a copy of Burns's poems. She was so impressed that she was inspired to write to the poet and offer her services as a sounding board for his work. The friendship between the two continued until the poet's death, despite the fact she was 29 years his senior.
This letter is filled with Burns's thoughts on various subjects. He begins by apologising that he has taken so long to write as he has been preoccupied with his work in the excise and ill health.
He goes on to discuss the recent death of the Scottish poet William Falconer, who wrote The Shipwreck, a favourite poem of Mrs Dunlop's. Quoting an old Scots ballad about death, he then continues to discuss his interest in traditional music:
‘Old Scots Song are, you know, a favourite study & pursuit of mine’.
Burns changes subjects by discussing his son (and Mrs Dunlop's godson) Frances (1789-1803). He fears that he will soon contract smallpox, which is spreading around Dumfries. He also notes his pride in his young son, writing,
’I myself am delighted with the manly swell of his little chest, and a certain miniature dignity in the carriage of his head & the glance of his fine black eye, which promises the undaunted gallantry of an Independent Mind.’
He goes on to discuss the recent death of the Scottish poet William Falconer, who wrote The Shipwreck, a favourite poem of Mrs Dunlop's. Quoting an old Scots ballad about death, he then continues to discuss his interest in traditional music:
‘Old Scots Song are, you know, a favourite study & pursuit of mine’.
Burns changes subjects by discussing his son (and Mrs Dunlop's godson) Frances (1789-1803). He fears that he will soon contract smallpox, which is spreading around Dumfries. He also notes his pride in his young son, writing,
’I myself am delighted with the manly swell of his little chest, and a certain miniature dignity in the carriage of his head & the glance of his fine black eye, which promises the undaunted gallantry of an Independent Mind.’
Archive information
Place of creation
Themes
Hierarchy
-
Letters from and to Robert Burns
(
a sub-fonds is a subdivision in the archival material)
- Letter from Robert Burns to Mrs Dunlop, 25 January 1790
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