Collins, 1949, 669 p, including 2 p Note, 5 p Contents and 6 p List of Characters.

The title of this book is, these days, liable to a different interpretation to the one it would have received on first publication. It is, of course, the third in the author’s Immortal Memory sequence of novels about the life of Robert Burns.

Here, after the printing of the Kilmarnock Edition of his poems, Burns sets out for Edinburgh – the gay world referred to above – to seek a second edition, this one printed in the capital, and finds his fame has preceded him. He is lionised and feted as the ploughman poet and Scotland’s bard in most quarters but still largely looked down on because of his origins.

Most of the intrigue revolves around Edinburgh bookseller and publisher William Creech who is quite clearly intent on exploiting him, offering Burns what to the poet is a large sum – fifty pounds – for his copyright. Even the offer’s swift increase to one hundred pounds then one hundred and fifty guineas does not arouse any suspicion. Only the inordinate amount of time to pay him the sums he is due from the publishing does that, by which juncture Burns has travelled through Scotland, at one point scribbling anti-government sentiments on a pub window in Stirling using his diamond pen, a transgression he later removes.

Burns doesn’t take much time settling in to his womanising habits. Within about a week, it seems, he is disporting with Peggy Cameron, a serving-girl in the Cowgate, on a shakedown under a table in her workplace and he takes up with various others of the fair sex, entering into a relationship with the woman he will write to as “Clarinda” while bedding her servant girl, Jenny Clow, on the side.

Among other luminaries he meets the Duchess of Gordon, a woman of some reputation – it is said none of her various children were sired by her husband – but no intimacy between them is implied. (How likely is that, given both their reputations?)

Peggy Chalmers is  otherwise the only woman in the book who spurns Burns’s allures (though she is attracted to him and Barke conveys that his intentions were honourable.) She tells him, “Where a woman’s concerned men are never content with friendship – and you are no exception … which is a gey pity.”

On the after Sunday Service proclivities of the church-going, Barke ascribes to Burns’s thoughts the idea that, “never, since John Knox came thundering out of Geneva, had the Scots, as a race, been able to imbibe their Presbyterian theology without the aid of strong drink”

He also describes the securing of the then reasonably recent Union of the Parliaments as unparalleled bribery, which had “enraged the Scottish people at the time; and the stench had lingered in their nostrils ever since.”

Barke also takes the opportunity to delve into the political situation in Scotland at the time where Henry Dundas “ruled Scotland on behalf of William Pitt” and made sure his cronies were able to ensure there were no obstacles to his will being observed.

On those wanderings about Scotland, travelling first south – as far as Newcastle – before returning to Mauchline via Dumfries to look over the land he might rent for farming at Ellisland and later a journey north to Inverness and Moray, during which he enjoys the playing of Fiddler Niel Gow, and comes back to Edinburgh via Aberdeenshire, he conceives the idea of reviving the fortunes of Scottish song. “In the songs of Scotland do we not find enshrined in words and in melody something of this essential goodness, simplicity and harmony that is essential to the ordinary, unlettered folk of our country? Our national songs have not been written by the learned and mighty, but by the humble and the unpretentious – by simple men and simple women” – in them are to be found the old truths and the old satisfaction of living. He notes that after the defeat of the Jacobites – still an aching wound – “Deadness and defeatism ate into what vitals remained of the old Gaelic economy.”

Barke does not wear his research lightly. Almost every gathering Burns goes to is attended by an extensive list of those present and their standing in Edinburgh society. This makes for trying reading at times. The Edinburgh scenes – and even the travelling ones – do not have the same immediacy as the accounts of Burns’s life in Ayrshire in the previous two volumes. It is only when he returns there, to be among his old cronies and reconciled with Jean Armour that the same sense of authority prevails.

Pedant’s corner:- Barke still spells Mauchline as Machlin. Otherwise; the customary commas are missing between words that form lists, “the bench of judges were thrown into variance” (the bench … was thrown,) “since all men are not corrupt all the time” (since not all men are corrupt all the time,) “had been mowed down” (mown down,) “who had rode away” (ridden away,) staunch (stanch,) the text can be read as if it was Edward I, Hammer of the Scots, whom Bruce defeated at Bannockburn, as he was mentioned in the previous paragraph, but “the final utter rout of Edward” was of Edward II, Calgacius (usually spelled Calgacus,) Mons Grampius  (Mons Graupius,) sunk (sank,) “the ruins of Elgin abbey” (it’s actually a cathedral’s ruins in Elgin.) “He would liked to have spent more time” (He would have liked to have spent more time,) “the Ochills” (It’s Ochils,) Calvanistic (x 2, it’s Calvinistic – used a few pages later!) “since he had rode put of Edinburgh” (ridden out,) the Ahasuerus’ sceptre” (Ahasuerus’s.)

Collins, 1950, 510 p, including 2 p Note, 3 p Contents and 4p list of Characters.

This is the second of Barke’s Immortal Memory sequence chronicling the life of Robert Burns. He is now in young adulthood and has moved to the farm of Mossgiel, near Mauchline, with brother Gilbert and the rest of his family. We meet Jean Armour before Burns does, and she is presented as an obedient, dutiful daughter.

Burns is in trouble with the local minister, known as Daddy Auld. He has already fathered a child to Betty Paton, but his penance for this, on the cutty stool, takes place in the nearby parish of Tarbolton since that is where the offence occurred. He was fined one guinea and his sin considered absolved. (This strikes me as akin to those indulgences of the Catholic Church which so enraged the early Protestant reformers.) It is his poems and intellect which most worry Auld, however, who realizes that the best way to undermine Burns will be through his sexual misdemeanours. To that end he enjoins two of his elders, Willie Fisher and James Lamie, to collect evidence against Burns. Fisher is that hypocritical individual about whom Burns would write Holy Willie’s Prayer. (Another long poem, about Mauchline’s Holy Fair, also excites Auld’s ire.)

Burns and his cronies disparage these prurient creatures as the houghmagandie pack, and the fascination of the Church with controlling sexuality (which seems to be the goal of all religions) is noted. “Auld had long been made aware of the peculiar fact that when any of the congregation had to appear on the sessional carpet for a sexual offence, he could count on a full attendance from his lay-shepherds. No other sin so excited their holy zeal for probing into the mystery of the passionate relationship between man and woman and the theological relationship between both and the Presbyterian conception of God.”

When Burns meets Jean he is immediately smitten (though he does have a weakness for imagining himself in love.) Jean’s father dislikes him on reputation alone and has already forbidden her to have anything to do with him. But the attraction is too strong for both of them and she and Burns sign a paper to the effect that they have married. This is without benefit of clergy but would apparently have been recognised legally. He is too poor to support a wife though. The song in the green thorn tree of the book’s title is the one Jean sings at their trysting site.

The inevitable happens and Jean’s father and mother prevail on her to disown him, paper or no. Incensed, Burns turns to Highland Mary (Campbell) for solace and resolves to leave for the Caribbean, arranging a passage for himself and Mary whom he dispatches to Greenock to hide her pregnancy. Some boy, as they say.

In the meantime his poem some of which Barke has Burns conjure up on the spot, have been gaining a reputation and it is arranged for a book of his poetry (Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect) to be published by subscription, or at least promise of payment. He wrestles over which verses to publish as some may be considered too controversial, publishers then, as now, reluctant to take too much of a risk.

Barke’s writing is workmanlike, with occasional veerings into purple prose when describing landscape. Several of the quoted poems have their verses written as speech which detracts from the ability to read them as poems but since Burns was reciting them to others I suppose that’s fair enough. The characterisation is broad brush.

I note that the Church’s strictures against houghmagandie seem to have been spectacularly unsuccessful as several instances of compearing are mentioned in the book – including that of a couple who married before the evidence blossomed, though their marriage did not in any way mitigate the offence. When Burns has to stand for his “fornication” with Jean Armour there is no room on the cutty stool. He is one of five people, including Jean, arraigned on the same day.

Pedant’s corner:- Barke still spells the town Machlin rather than Mauchline, “womankind were crowding in” (womankind is singular; ‘womankind was crowding in’.) Surgeoners! (it was possessive not plural; ‘Surgeoner’s!’,) “knit his brows” (knitted.) “The company were soon in a grand mood” (The company was soon in a grand mood,) staunched (stanched.)