Toasting and haggis to Robert Burns

January 21, 2006

Song and saturnalia ignited the Edinburgh Castle this evening with a tribute to one of Scotland’s most acclaimed poets, Robert Burns. Here at the twelfth annual “Burns Day” celebration, the essence of the Scottish experience in America was in full effect, complete with Scottish accents, beer, dance, kilts, songs, whiskey, and indeed…a haggis. Scottish flags suspended from the rafters above the audience members who occupied every inch of available space to witness a deeply engaging performance by Jana, a Scottish Zen Monk. Jana’s love of Burn’s work arose in Scotland, where she grew up listening to her grandfather recite Burn’s most notable poem, Tam O’Shanter. Jana rendered radiant verses from a pile of poetic pieces that touched her heart as a means to propel this traditional cycle. She began the evening with words from another Burns poem, “Hey Johnny Lad, Cock up your Beaver,” in honor of the Scottish struggle to salvage freedom and identity during English oppression. With glasses in hand, admirers and spectators alike paid respect to the passionate and often romantic words of Burns.

Robert Burns (1759-1796) was born the son of a farmer, William Burns. His family rented acreage in the farmlands of Scotland. After his father died Burns and his brother continued the family legacy on the farm. Burns found pleasure in a modest living, and held onto a healthy dose of disrespect for the Victorian conservatives, whom he referred to as “the dirt o’ gentry.” Still and all, this ardent intellectual harbored deep-seated dreams that expanded past the boundaries of rural pasture. It was at this time that Robert Burns began writing poetry for inspiration. His words speak for the lives and values of Scotland’s lower class. He wrote mainly about men and their ways, as well as his position in the world.  Robert Burns was a man of prominent integrity. He engaged in a vivacious lifestyle, which he articulated beautifully with his command over the written word. His poetry rejoiced in the plebian life that he led, and ridiculed the conservatives who wished to subdue him. “He dignified simple life and spoke with zest of those even lower down than himself” (Fitzhugh, 12).

The following is an excerpt from one of Robert Burn’s early works, Epistle to Davie:

It’s no in titles nor in rank:
It’s no in wealth like Lon’on Bank,
To purchase peace and rest.
It’s no in makin muckle (much), mair (more);
It’s no in books, it’s no in lear(ning),
To make us truly blest:

If happiness hae not her seat
An’ center in the breast,
We may be wise, or rich, or great,
But never can be blest!

Nae treasures nor pleasures
Can make us happy lang;
The heart ay’s the part ay
That makes us right or wrong.

His words demonstrate that money and power do not always bring happiness. Happiness is found in health, and health is wealth.

By 1786, at the age of 27, Robert Burns had failed as a farmer, and had composed a sound body of poems that he published in Kilmarnock, Scotland. His book was well received, and it earned him respect from a well-to-do section of Scotland’s aristocracy. He tailored some of his later poetry to the cadence of song (as seen below in Song, Untitled), and continued this practice until the day he died:

See the smoking bowl before us,
Mark our jovial, ragged ring!
Round and round take up the Chorus,
And in raptures let us sing—

(Chorus)
A fig for those by law protected!
Liberty’s a glorious feast!
Courts for Cowards were erected,
Churches built to please the Priest.

What is title, what is treasure,
What is Reputation’s care?
If we lead life of pleasure,
‘Tis no matter how or where.

With the ready trick and fable
Round we wander all the day;
And at night, in barn or stable,
Hug our doxies on the hay.

Does the train-attended carriage
Thro’ the country lighter rove?
Does the sober bed of marriage
Witness brighter scenes of love?

Life is all a Variorum
We regard not how it goes’
Let them cant about Decorum,
Who have character to lose.

Here’s to Budgets, Bags, and Wallets!
Here’s to all the wandering train!
Here’s to our ragged Brats and Callets!
One and all cry out, Amen!

A fig for those protected,
Liberty’s a glorious feast!
Courts for Cowards were erected,
Churches built to please the priest.

Burn’s songs revel in the realities that supplement everyday life. He envisions a free body encircling the light of truth, and denounces the formalities of law and church. Instead, the focus falls upon enjoying life’s natural pleasures. Burns Night at the Edinburgh Castle is truly an homage to this focal point.  

Allen Black, manager of the Edinburgh Castle and Master of Ceremonies, conducted a Haggis Sacrament in honor of Robert Burns with none other than the legendary Scottish Bagpiper, Jack Cunningham, accompanying him.

After swiftly parading the boiled sheep’s stomach up and down the pub, Black exhaled a fleeting entreaty for the soul of Robbie Burns before fashioning the symbol of a cross into the haggis with a ritualistic Scottish knife and enlivening the innards with a shot of whiskey. One skin satchel of haggis was enough to feed an ample segment of the two hundred casual Scots who attended the event.

The fervor of performance poetry, song, and conversation lasted late into the night, and legend of Robert Burns was rekindled in the hearts of those who recognize what the man stood for.

Sources
Fitzhugh, Robert. “Robert Burns: The Man and the Poet.” Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston, 1970.

Andrew Hodgdon