hours I shall present your 'twa wee sarkies' to the little fellow (Robert).
My dearest Clarinda, you are ever present with me; and those hours, that
drawl by among the fools and rascals of this world, are only supportable
in the idea, that they are the forerunners of that happy hour, that ushers
me to 'The Mistress of my Soul'. Next week I shall visit Dumfries, and next
again return to Edinburgh. My letters, in these hurrying dissipated hours,
will be heavy trash; but you know the Writer.
God bless you!
Sylvander
Burns had set off for Mossgiel on the Friday (22nd), but before reaching
there he decided to visit Tarbolton where Jean Armour was being put up
by William Muir and his wife at Tarbolton Mill, since leaving her father's
house, on the advice of her mother it is said, after her father found out that
Jean and Burns were still in touch with each other, and that Jean was once
again pregnant to the poet. On seeing Jean again, Burns spent the rest of
the night at the Mill, where, according to a most disrespectful letter he
wrote to Robert Ainslie on 3rd March, the inevitable took place.
He bade farewell to Jean on the Saturday morning (23rd) and carried on,
astride Jenny Geddes, his pony which is thought to have been brought to
him in Glasgow by his brother William, to Mauchline to see his family.
Agnes' letter of the 22nd was awaiting his arrival at Mossgiel and he sat
down as soon as possible to reply to it.
The letter does not show Robert Burns in a very good light reading his
words towards Jean Armour, and the letter was adjusted time wise to suit
his situation. As Jean lived long enough to see his correspondence in print,
she must have read the letters to Agnes and to Robert Ainslie from that
time, and it can only be imagined the hurt she might have felt at Burns
betrayal of her at the time.
As for Agnes' concerns about Kemp he dismissed it, he knew it wouldn't
affect him or his future - it was Agnes' problem - tough! At least he did tell
her that he was reconsidering the Excise, but not that he had been
employed by the Excise before leaving Edinburgh. To Agnes' disgust, he
complained about the cost of postage, he had never done that before.
Did Agnes, after reading what he had said about Jean Armour, wonder if
Burns was worth all the hassle? And did she 'in to hersel' realise that she
had had a narrow escape - did it ever cross her mind to compare Robert
Burns to James MacLehose once the veneer had been scraped off? She had
128041
been owned by MacLehose, and she had been in thrall to Robert Burns, it
was time to let both go - well nearly! She had yet to go through the anger
stage.
Letter 52
Mossgiel, Saturday - 23 February 1788
Sylvander to Clarinda
I have just now, My ever dearest Madam, delivered your kind present to
my sweet, little Bobbie; who I find a very fine fellow. -Your letter was
waiting me. -Your interview with Mr. K(emp) opens a wound, ill-closed, in
my breast: not that I think his friendship is of so much consequence to you,
but because you set such value on it. -Now for a little news that will please
you. -I, this morning as I came home, called for a certain woman (Jean). -I
am disgusted with her; I cannot endure her! I, while my heart smote me
for the prophanity, tried to compare her with my Clarinda: 'twas setting
the expiring glimmer of a farthing taper beside the cloudless glory of the
meridian sun. -Here was tasteless insipidity, vulgarity of soul, and
mercenary fawning; there, polished good sense, heaven born-genius, and
the most generous, the most delicate, the most tender Passion. -I have
done with her and she with me. - (a line is cut out here from the original
manuscript).
I set off to-morrow for Dumfriesshire (24th). -'Tis merely out of
Compliment to Mr. (Patrick) Miller, for I know the Excise must be my lot. -I
will write you from Dumfries, if these horrid postages don't frighten me.
Whatever place, whatever land I see,
My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee:
Still to 'Clarinda' turns with ceaseless pain:
And drags, at each remove, a lengthen'd chain!
I just stay to write you a few lines before I go to call on my friend, Mr.
Gavin Hamilton. -I hate myself as an unworthy sinner, because these
interviews of old, dear friends make me for half a moment almost forget
Clarinda.
Remember to-morrow evening at eight o'clock: I shall be with the Father
of mercies, at that hour, on your account. -Farewell! if the post goes not
tonight, I'll finish the other page tomorrow morning.
Sylvander
Again, Agnes waited in vain for a letter each day, and each day there was
nothing. Burns had been busy travelling around, this time looking at land
for farming, aided with the advice of a local farmer John Tennant. He had
also managed to arrange for Jean to be set up in a rented room in the home
of Dr. John McKenzie, his old friend, where he knew she would be well
210825
cared for when she gave birth. He is also said to have reconciled Jean with
her mother, this would have made both Jean and her mother very relieved
and happy at this worrying period.
Within a very short time he had decided to take on Patrick Miller's farm at
Ellisland. This turned out to be an almost disastrous undertaking though
the views were poetically acceptable. The farm was in a rundown state
and the ground was not good. It ate money and it would prove to be a
very bad decision indeed.
Burns may have been a heaven-sent ploughman, but was he a good
farmer? He thought he would have the choice of Farming or the Excise,
and he ended up doing both, and that played havoc with the state of his
delicate health, though he was not to know it then. He complained that
with all the travelling his knee was paining him again. He wrote to Agnes
from Cumnock on the 2nd March, but she had to wait until the 5th March
before his letter was delivered to her.
Letter 53
Cumnock, Sunday - 2 March 1788
Sylvander to Clarinda
I hope and am certain that my generous Clarinda will not think of my
silence for now a long week has been in any degree owing to my
forgetfulness. -I have been tosst about thro' the Country ever since I wrote
you; and am here, returning from Dumfries-shire, at an Inn, the Post-
Office of the place, with just so long time as my horse eats his corn to write
to you. -I have been hurried with business and dissipation almost equal to
the insidious degree of the Persian Monarch's mandate, when he forbade
asking petition of god or man for forty days: had the venerable Prophet
been as throng as I, he had not broke the decree; at least, not thrice a day.
I am thinking my farming scheme will yet hold. -A worthy, intelligent
farmer, my father's friend and my own (John Tennant), has been with me
on the spot: he thinks the bargain practicable. -I am myself, on a more
serious review of the lands, much better pleased with them. -I won't
mention this in writing to anybody but you and Mr. Ainslie. -Don't accuse
me of being fickle: I have the two plans of life before me, and I wish to
adopt the one most likely to procure me independence. I shall be in
Edinburgh next week. -I long to see you: your image is omnipresent to me:
nay, I am convinced I would soon idolatrize it most seriously; so much do
absence and memory improve the medium thro' which one sees the much-
loved Object. -Tonight, at the sacred hour of eight, I expect to meet you - at
the Throne of Grace. -I hope as I go home tonight, to find a letter from you
128063
at the Post-Office in Mauchline. -I have just once seen that dear hand since
I left Edinburgh; a letter indeed which much affected me. - Tell me, first of
womankind, will my warmest attachment, my sincerest friendship, my
correspondence, will they be any compensation for the sacrifices you make
for my sake? If they will, they are yours. If I settle on the farm I propose, I
am just a day and a half's ride from Edinburgh - we will meet - don't you
say, 'perhaps too often'!
Farewell, my fair my charming Poetess! May all good things ever attend
you!
I am ever, My dearest Madam,
yours -
Sylvander
Letter to Robert Ainslie
Mauchline - 3 March 1788
My Dear Friend,
(This extract is taken from the letter usually known as the Horse Litter
Letter, in which the second paragraph is quite distasteful)
I am just returned from M. Miller's farm................................
I have been through some sore tribulation and under much buffeting of
the Wicked One since I came to this country. Jean I found banished, like a
martyr-forlorn destitute and friendless: All for the good old cause. I have
reconciled her to her fate, and I have reconciled her to her mother. I have
taken her a room. I have taken her to my arms. I have given her a
mahogany bed. I have given her a guinea, and I have f----d her till she
rejoiced with joy unspeakable and full of glory. But, as I always am on
every occasion, I have been prudent and cautious to an astonishing degree.
I swore her privately and solemnly never to attempt any claim on me as a
husband, even though anybody should persuade her she had such a claim
(which she had not), neither during my life nor after my death. She did all
this like a good girl, and I took the opportunity of some dry horse litter
and gave her such a thundering scalade that electrified the very marrow of
her bones. Oh, what a peacemaker is a guid weel-willy pintle! It is the
mediator, the guarantee, the umpire, the bond of union, the solemn league
and covenant, the plenipotentiary, the Aaron's rod, the Jacob's staff, the
prophet Elisha's pot of oil, the Ahasuerus' Sceptre, the sword of mercy, the
philosopher’s stone, the Horn of Plenty, the Tree of Life between man and
woman.
I shall be in Edinburgh the middle of next week. My farming ideas I shall
keep private till I see. I got a letter from Clarinda yesterday, and she tells
me she has got no letter of mine but one. Tell her that I wrote to her from
Glasgow, from Kilmarnock, from Mauchline and yesterday from
210847
Cumnock, as I returned from Dumfries. Indeed, she is the only person in
Edinburgh I have written to till this day today....
Your faithful friend
R.B.
Retracing Robert's footsteps for the previous nine months in relation to
this letter to Ainslie and its possible consequences - After his trip with
Robert Ainslie, Burns returned from England on 1st June 1787, staying at
Dumfries for three days. On leaving Dumfries, he took his time coming
home and arrived at Mauchline on 8th June, staying at Johnnie Dow's
Tavern rather than going directly to Mossgiel. (Probably) on 9th June he
paid a visit to Jean Armour to see his ailing daughter, her cloying family,
this time, and was soon receiving her welcoming embrace He was at
Mauchline/Mossgiel from 8th June 1787 to pre - 24th June 1787, as on that
date he wrote to Creech from Glasgow. If Jean had become impregnated
about the 9th or 10th June, and pregnancy lasts about 40 weeks she would
have been due to give birth c16th March 1788.
The date of the above letter to Ainslie has been put forward as the day that
Jean gave birth to her twin girls, both of whom sadly died, but this date
has been argued over as too early. The argument does not consider the
possibility that the babies may have been premature, not an unusual
occurrence for twins. The Mauchline Parish Register for deaths for 1788
has two entries for Jean Armour, 'child, unbaptized on 10th March and 22nd
March', but this does not mean that they were not born on the 3rd as their
date of birth has not been entered in the register, just their deaths.
Also, if one child was stillborn then that would explain the word
'unbaptised' and would mean that the birth was on the 10th March and the
children would be considered full term babies. There was no charge for
burial, which was a usual occurrence for unbaptised children and for still-
births. Why the second child was not baptised is odd, though, having lived
12 days. Apparently, no mention was ever made, in writing, by Robert of
the birth of these two little girls at any time for the remainder of his life.
It is also interesting to note that in 1787 Burns still had it at the back of his
mind to go to Jamaica as he wrote from Mauchline to James Smith on 11th
June 'I cannot settle to my mind - Farming the only thing of which I know
anything, and Heaven above knows, but little do I understand even that, I cannot,
dare not risk on farms as they are. If I do not fix, I will go for Jamaica. Should I
stay, in an unsettled state at home, I would only dissipate my little fortune, and
ruin what I intend shall compensate my little ones, for the stigma I have brought
128085
on their names.' The question is, did Burns still have the boarding pass on
him from the previous year?
Robert indeed did write to Agnes from all the places named in the letter to
Ainslie but sending and receiving a letter, outside of a city, depended on
the whim of the 'Flys'. Because Agnes had time on her hands, she did not
seem to realise how difficult it was for Burns to get some 'me' time to write
to her. He was never off his feet since he left Edinburgh, and when he did
get some free time it was often spent sharing a bottle, or making a pop-up
appearance somewhere, which he was never 100% happy about.
Agnes was feeling quite melancholic when she received the Cumnock
letter and she replied immediately advising Burns that she agreed with his
decision to return to farming and that she had been rebuffed by
acquaintances on a few occasions, which hurt her, though she had at least
dined at the house of Mr. Kemp the previous Friday, 29th February. She
was pleased with the way she conducted herself in the company of him
and his friends. She had not seen sight nor sound of Mary Peacock or Miss
Nimmo, which upset her very much, though Robert Ainslie had been
visiting her quite a lot, more like sniffing around rather than visiting.
Robert Ainslie was someone that Burns should never have placed his trust,
friendship or friend with. Burns wrote many very seedy and sexually
disgraceful letters to Ainslie, who replied in his own seedy and sordid
way. After Burns died, Ainslie made sure that his letters to Burns were
retrieved and he destroyed them, not wanting to leave his reputation for
the disreputable to be left for future researchers. Unfortunately for Ainslie,
Burns’ letters were not destroyed, and Ainslie is seen as a willing recipient
of Burns seedier side, and his destruction of his own letters shows only his
guilt. Ainslie later became very religious, his hypocrisy covering up his
baser side, as with many of the rich professionals that both Burns, and
Agnes knew. In her letter, Agnes did not mention Ainslie's banishment.
Letter 54
Edinburgh, Wednesday - 5 March 1788
Clarinda to Sylvander
I received yours from Cumnock about an hour ago; and to show you my
good-nature, sit down to write to you immediately. I fear, Sylvander, you
ever-value my generosity; for, believe me, it will be some time ere I can
cordially forgive you the pain your silence has caused me! Did you ever
feel the sickness of the heart which arises from 'hope deferred'? That, the
cruelest of pains, you have inflicted on me for eight days by-past. I hope I
210869
can make every reasonable allowance for the hurry of business and
dissipation. Yet, had I been ever so engrossed, I should have found one
hour out of the twenty-four to write you. No more of it: I accept your
apologies; but am hurt that any should have been necessary betwixt us on
such a tender occasion.
I am happy that the farming scheme promises so well. There's no
fickleness, my dear Sir, in changing for the better. I never liked the Excise
for you; and feel a sensible pleasure in the hope of you becoming a sober,
industrious farmer. My prayers, in this affair, are heared, I hope, so far:
may they be answered completely! The distance is the only thing I regret;
but, whatever tends to your welfare, overweighs all other considerations. I
hope ere then to grow wiser, and to lie easy under weeks' silence. I had
begun to think that you had fully experienced the truth of Sir Isaac's
philosophy.
I have been under unspeakable obligations to your friend, Mr. Ainslie. I
had not a mortal to whom I could speak of your name but him. He has
called often; and, by sympathy, not a little alleviated my anxiety. I tremble
lest you should have devolved, what you used to term your 'folly', upon
Clarinda: more's the pity. 'Tis never graceful but on the male side; but I
shall learn more wisdom in future. Example has often good effects.
I got both your letters from Kilmarnock and Mauchline, and would,
perhaps, have written to you unbidden, had I known anything of the
geography of the country: but I knew not whether you would return by
Mauchline or not, nor could Mr. Ainslie inform me. I have met with
several little rubs, that hurt me the more that I had not a bosom to pour
them into -
On some fond breast the feeling soul relies.
Mary, I have not once set eyes on since I wrote to you. Oh, that I should
be formed susceptible of kindness, never to be fully, or, at least, habitually
returned! 'Trim', (said my Uncle Toby), 'I wish, Trim, I were dead'.
Mr. Ainslie called just now to tell me he has heared from you. You would
see, by my last, how anxious I was, even then, to hear from you. 'Tis the
first time I ever had reason to be so: I hope 'twill be the last. My thoughts
were yours both Sunday nights at eight. Why should my letter have
affected you? You know I count all things (Heaven excepted) but loss, that
I may win and keep you. I supped at Mr. Kemp's on Friday (29th). Had you
been an invisible spectator with what perfect ease I acquitted myself, you
would have been pleased, highly pleased with me.
Interrupted by a visit from Miss R. She was inquiring kindly of you. I
delivered your compliments to her. She means (as you once said) all the
kindness in the world, but she wants that 'finer chord'. Ah! Sylvander,
happy, in my mind, are they who are void of it. Alas! it too often thrills
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with anguish.
I hope you have not forgotten to kiss the little cherub for me (Bobbie).
Give him fifty, and think Clarinda blessing him all the while. I pity his
mother sincerely and wish a certain affair happily over. My Willie is in
good health, except his leg, which confines him close since it was opened;
Mr. Wood says it will be a very tedious affair. He has prescribed sea-
bathing as soon as the season admits. I never see Miss Nimmo. Her
indifference wounds me; but all these things make me fly to the Father of
Mercies, who is the inexhaustible Fountain of all kindness. How could you
ever mention 'postages'? I counted on a crown at least; and have only
spent one poor shilling. If I had but a shilling in the world, you should
have sixpence; nay, eightpence, if I could contrive to live on a groat. I am
avaricious only in your letters; you are so, indeed. Farewell. Yours,
Clarinda
Their letters again were fated to pass in the post, so it was difficult to hold
a continuous thread of contact Burns always seemed to be playing catch
up. In his letter, Burns was sounding a bit miffed as he compares the
number of letters sent by both. He was under a lot of stress both from Jean
Armour's situation, and, according to James MacKay, the fact that
Mossgiel was not doing well as a farm.
According to MacKay, Gavin Hamilton had asked Robert to stand surety
for Gilbert at Mossgiel, which Robert had had to refuse. He had already
given Gilbert a large sum of money to help towards the farm, but it still
wasn't enough to cover the losses. Apparently after this refusal, the long
friendship between Robert Burns and Gavin Hamilton ceased to exist and
after 7th March 1788, to date, no other letters between the two men have
ever been found.
If Jean had given birth to the twins on the 3rd of March, Burns did not
mention them in his letter to Agnes written on 6th, which wouldn't be a big
surprise. In fact, he says that on the evening of the 5th he had spent time
dining out and drinking more than he should have and was paying the
price. It is unthinkable that Burns would have been so callous as to go out
entertaining while his children, one may even have been dead, were at
death's door, and Jean would have been inconsolable. Either they were
born later, or Burns was unaware that they had been born at all.
On the 7th March as well as writing to Agnes, Burns wrote letters to Mrs.
Dunlop, Robert Muir (a friend who was dying and was in the last month
of his life), Gavin Hamilton and Richard Brown. Only in the letter to
210981
Brown is Jean mentioned, and in that letter, he writes that she has not yet
given birth 'I have towed her into convenient harbour where she may lie snug
until she unload.'
Letter 55
Thursday - 6 March 1788
Sylvander to Clarinda
I own myself guilty, Clarinda, I should have wrote you last week: but
when you recollect, my dearest Madam, that your's of this night's Post is
only the third I got from you, and that this is the fifth or sixth I have sent
to you, you will not reproach me with a good grace for unkindness. -I have
always some kind of idea, not to sit down to write a letter except I have
time and possession of my faculties so as to do some justice to my letter;
which at present is rarely my situation. -For instance, yesterday I dined at
a friend's at some distance, the savage hospitality of this Country spent me
the most part of the night over the nauseous potion in the bowl; this day -
sick - head-ache - low-spirits - miserable - fasting, except for a draught of
water or a small-beer now eight o'clock at night - only able to crawl ten
minutes' walk into Mauchline, to wait the Post in the pleasurable hope of
hearing from the Mistress of my soul.
But truce with all this! When I sit down to write to you all is harmony
and peace. -A hundred times a day do I figure you, before your taper, your
book or work laid aside as I get within the room. -How happy have I been!
and how little of that scantling portion of time, called the life of man, is
sacred to happiness much less transport!
I could moralize tonight, like a Death's head
O what is life, that thoughtless wish of all!
A drop of honey in a draught of gall -
Nothing astonishes me more, when a little sickness clogs the wheels of
life, than the thoughtless career we run, in the hour of health - 'None saith,
where is God, my Maker, that giveth songs in the night: who teacheth us
more knowledge than the beasts of the field, and more understanding than
the fowls of the air',
Give me, my Maker, to remember thee! Give me to act up to the dignity
of my nature! Give me to feel 'another's woe'; and continue with me that
dear-lov'd Friend that feels with mine!
The dignified and dignifying consciousness of an honest man, and the
well-grounded trust in approving Heaven, are two most substantial
foundations of happiness - (there are several words missing for the rest of
the paragraph as it runs) --- --- --- --- the soul and give --- --- --- --- his
native worth. --- --- --- --- I shall set out soon --- --- --- --- which are very --- -
-- --- --- me, on Monday --- --- --- --- Clarinda. -Y-- --- --- --- pleasure. -I have
129029
just (possibly 'had Bobbie inoculated' but it is conjectural) in the small-pox, as
they are in the neighbourhood he is as yet, doing very well.
I could not have wrote a page to any mortal except yourself. -I'll write
you by Sunday's post.
Adieu! Good-night!
Sylvander
Clarinda's letter of the 5th arrived at Mossgiel on the 7th March. Burns sat
down to reply to her harsh accusations. Burns' head must have been all
over the place with Jean Armour, Gilbert and Gavin Hamilton, numerous
old friends who wanted some of his time and Agnes who was not having a
good time of it in Edinburgh. He must have felt like running away from it
all - maybe once again to Jamaica, if he still had the sailing ticket, but he
sat down and composed his letter. Once he got on to the second half with
his remarks about Miss Nimmo, he knew he was on safe ground, and that
Agnes would be completely mollified. Agnes liked comparisons,
especially when she was the one to come out on top. He also made the
point that he was not apologising, just explaining.
Letter 56
Mossgiel, Friday - 7 March 1788
Sylvander to Clarinda
Clarinda, I have been so stung with your reproach for unkindness, a sin
so unlike me, a sin I detest more than a breach of the whole Decalogue,
fifth, sixth, seventh and ninth articles excepted: that I believe I shall, not
rest in my grave about it, if I die before I see you. -You have often allowed
me the head to judge, and the heart to feel the influence of female
excellence: was it not blasphemy then, against your own charms, and
against my feelings to suppose that a short fortnight could abate my
Passion? You, my Love, may have your cares and anxieties to disturb you,
but they are the usual recurrences of life, your future views are fix'd, and
your mind in a settled routine. -Could you not, my ever-dearest Madam,
make a little allowance for a man, after long absence, paying a short visit
to a Country full of friends, relations and early intimates? Cannot you
guess, my Clarinda, what thoughts, what cares, what anxious forebodings,
hopes and fears, must crowd the breast of the man of keen sensibility,
when no less is on the tapis than his aim, his employment, his very
existence thro' future life? To be overtopped in anything else, I can bear,
but in the lists of generous love, I defy all mankind! -Not even to the
tender, the fond, the loving Clarinda, she whose strength of attachment,
whose melting soul, may vie with Eloisa and Sappho; not even She can
overpay the Affection She owes me!
211903
Now that, not my apology, but my defence is made; I feel my soul respire
more easily. -I know you will go along with me in my justification - would
to Heaven you could in my Adoption too! I mean an Adoption beneath the
stars: an Adoption where I might revel in the immediate beams of
She, the bright sun of all her sex -
I would not have you, my dear Madam, so much hurt at Miss Nimmo's
coldness. -'Tis placing yourself below her, an honor she by no means
deserves. -We ought, when we wish to be economists in happiness; we
ought in the first place to fix the standard of our own character: and when,
on full examination, we know where we stand, and how much ground we
occupy, let us contend for it as property: and those who seem to doubt, or
deny us what is justly ours, let us either pity their prejudices or despise
their judgement. -I know, my Dear, you will say this is self-conceit; but I
call it self-knowledge: the one is the overweening opinion of a fool, who
fancies himself to be, what we would wish himself to be thought; the other
is the honest justice that a man of sense, who has thoroughly examined the
subject, owes to himself. -Without this standard, this column in our own
mind; we are perpetually at the mercy of the petulance, the mistakes, the
prejudices, nay, the very weakness and wickedness of our fellow-
creatures.
I urge this, my Dear, both to confirm myself in the doctrine which I
assure you, I sometimes need; and because I know that this causes you
often much disquiet. -To return to Miss Nimmo; she is most certainly a
worthy soul, and equalled by very, very few in goodness of the heart. -
But, can she boast more goodness of heart than Clarinda? not even
prejudice will dare to say so; for penetration and discernment. Clarinda
sees far beyond her: to wit, Miss Nimmo dare make no pretence; to
Clarinda's wit, scarce any of her sex dare make pretence. Personal charms,
it would be ridiculous to run the parallel: and for conduct in life, Miss
Nimmo was never called out, either much so to do, or to suffer; Clarinda
has been both; and has performed her Part, where Miss Nimmo would
have sunk at the bare idea.
Away, then, with these disquietudes! Let us pray with the honest weaver
of Kilbarchan, 'Lord, send us a gude conceit o' oursel'! Or in the words of
the auld sang,
Who does me disdain, I can scorn them again,
And I'll never mind any such foes
There is an error in the commerce of intimacy which has led me far astray
... (several lines are missing from the original manuscript) ... way of exchange,
have no idea of the value of our goods. -Happy is our lot, indeed, when
we meet with an honest Merchant, who is qualified to deal with us on our
own terms, but that is a rarity: with almost everybody we must pocket our
129141
pearls, less or more; and learn, in the old Scots phrase - 'To gie sic-like as
we get'. - For this reason, one should try to erect a kind of bank or store-
house in one's own mind; or as the Psalmist says, 'We should commune
with our own hearts and be still. This is exactly ... (several lines missing from
the original manuscript) ... friend be so peculiarly favoured of heaven as to
have a soul as noble and exalted as yours, sooner or later your bosom will
ach with disappointment. I wrote you yesternight which will reach you
long before this can. -I may write Mr. Ainslie before I see him, but I am not
sure.
Farewel!!! and remember
Sylvander
Agnes certainly did not expect to receive a letter so quickly from Robert,
but was certainly delighted with the package, though she still could not
help but chide him for perceived postal faults. She also mentioned her own
total of the letters passed between them. She wrote that she was not at all
interested in quality in his letters she just wanted to hear from him, to
know that he was thinking of her. She spoke of Robert Ainslie again, he
was obviously trying to make himself as indispensable as possible while
Burns was out of the picture. She sat down immediately to write back and
ended by asking him, if possible, to collect a parcel for her which was
being held in a shop in the Trongate in Glasgow, just up from the Black
Bull Inn, before he caught the 'Fly' for Edinburgh.
Letter 57
Edinburgh, Saturday - 8 March 1788
Clarinda to Sylvander
I was agreeably surprised by your answer to mine of Wednesday coming
this morning. I thought it always took two days, a letter from this to
Mauchline, and did not expect your sooner than Monday. This is the fifth
from you, and the fourth time I am now writing to you. I hate calculating
them: like some things, they don't do to be numbered. I wish you had
written from Dumfries, as you promised; but I do not impute it to any
cause but hurry of business &c. I hope I shall never live to reproach you
with unkindness. You never ought to put off till you 'have time to do
justice to your letter'. I have sufficient memorials of your abilities in that
way; and last week, two lines, to have said 'How do ye, my Clarinda',
would have saved me days and nights of cruel disquietude. 'A word to the
wise', you know. I know human nature better than to expect always fine
flights of fancy, or exertions of genius, and feel in myself the effects of this
'crazy mortal coil', upon its glorious inhabitant. To-day, I have a clogging
headache; but, however stupid, I know (at least I hope) a letter from your
211925
heart's friend will be acceptable. It will reach you to-morrow, I hope.
Shocking custom! one can't entertain with hospitality, without taxing their
guests with the consequences you mention.
Your reflection upon the effects which sickness has on our retrospect of
ourselves, are noble. I see my Sylvander will be all I wish him before he
leaves this world. Do you remember what simple eulogium I pronounced
on you, when Miss Nimmo asked, what I thought of you: - 'He' is ane of
God's ain; but his time's no come yet'! It was like a speech from your
worthy mother, - whom I revere. She would have joined me with a
heartfelt sigh, which none but mothers know. It is rather a bad picture of
us, that we are most prone to call upon God in trouble. Ought not the daily
blessings of health, peace, competence, friends, - ought not these to
awaken our constant gratitude to the Giver of all? I imagine, that the heart
which does not occasionally glow with filial love in the hours of
prosperity, can hardly hope to feel much comfort in flying to God in the
time of distress. O my dear Sylvander! that we may be enabled to set Him
before us, as our witness, benefactor, and judge at all times and on all
occasions!
In the name of wonder how could you spend ten hours with such a (bore)
as Mr. Pattison? What a despicable character! Religion! he knows only the
name; none of her real votaries ever wished to make any such shameful
compromises. But 'tis Scripture verified - the demon of avarice, his original
devil, finding him empty, called other seven more impure spirits, and so
completely infernalized him. Destitute of discernment to perceive your
merit, or taste to relish it, my astonishment at his fondness of you, is only
surpassed by your more than Puritanic patience in listening to his
shocking nonsense! I hope you renewed his certificate. I was told, it was in
a tattered condition some months ago, and that he then proposed putting
it on parchment, by way of preserving it. Don't call me severe: I hate all
who would turn the 'Grace of God into licentiousness'. 'tis commonly the
weaker part of mankind who attempt it.
Religion, Thou the soul of happiness.
Yesterday morning in bed, I happened to think of you. I said to myself,
'My Bonnie Lizzie Baillie', &c. and laughed; but I felt a delicious swell of
heart, and my eyes swam with tears. I know not if your sex ever feel this
burst of affection; 'tis an emotion indescribable. You see I'm grown a fool
since you left me. You know I was rational when you first knew me, but I
always grow more foolish, the farther I am from those I love; by and by I
suppose I shall be insane altogether.
I am happy your little lamb is doing so well. Did you execute my
commission? You had a great stock on hand; and, if any agreeable
customers came in the way, you would dispose of some of them I fancy,
129163
hoping soon to be supplied with a fresh assortment. For my part I can
truly say, I have had no demand. I really believe you have taught me
dignity, which partly through good nature, and partly by misfortune, had
been too much laid aside; which now I never will part with. Why should I
not keep it up? Admired, esteemed, beloved, by one of the first of
mankind! Not all the wealth of Peru could have purchased these. Oh,
Sylvander, I am great in my own eyes, when I think how high I am in your
esteem! You have shown me the merit I possess; I knew it not before. Even
Joseph trembled the other day in my presence. 'Husbands looked, mild,
and savages grew tame'! Love and cherish your friend Mr. Ainslie. He is
your friend indeed. I long for next week; happy days, I hope, yet await us.
When you meet the young Beauties, think of Clarinda's affection - of her
situation - of how much her happiness depends on you.
Farewell, till we meet. God be with you.
Clarinda
P.S. Will you take the trouble to send for a small parcel left at Dunlop and
Wilson's, Booksellers, Trongate, Glasgow, for me, and bring it with you in
the Fly?
Robert Burns left Ayrshire on the morning of Monday 10th March 1788 for
Glasgow, after collecting some monies due to him for the sales of his book,
he reached the city by Monday night, where he picked up Agnes' parcel as
requested. The 10th March is the date that is believed to be when Jean
Armour gave birth to her twins. It is highly unlikely that he knew of their
birth, or the death of one of them, and just callously walked away, leaving
Jean to cope alone. But it also begs the question why, when he knew that
Jean was so near giving birth, did he leave at all? Was it the Excise job, his
six-week induction course? Was it about the money that Creech owed
him? It is unlikely that it was to see Agnes as he was now certain of his
future and she would play the part of a casual correspondent.
Agnes knew nothing of this, of course. On his arrival in Edinburgh on 11th
March he went to see William Creech to get what he was due, Creech did
not have his finances ready for him and he had to arrange another meeting
with him on Thursday 13th. Burns wrote an angry letter to Creech, but we
will never know how angry as Creech, like others, destroyed all his and
Burns' correspondence to cover up his own misdoings, his sole
consideration. Robert arranged to meet Agnes on the evening of the 12th
and on the following day, the 13th.
FOURTEENTH MEETING - Wednesday 12th March 1788
211947
Letter 58
Wednesday, Morning - 12 March 1788
Sylvander to Clarinda
Clarinda, will that envious night-cap hinder you from appearing at the
window as I pass? 'Who is she that looketh forth in the morning fair as the
sun, clear as the moon, terrible as an army with banners'?
Do not accuse me of fond folly for this line; you know I am a cool lover. I
mean by these presents greeting, to let you to wit, that arch-rascal, Creech,
has not done my business yesternight, which has put off my leaving town
till Monday morning (17th). Tomorrow at eleven I meet with him for the
last time; just the hour I should have met far more agreeable company.
You will tell me this evening, whether you cannot make our hour of
meeting to-morrow one o'clock. I have just now written Creech such a
letter; that the very goose-feather in my hand shrunk back from the line,
and seemed to say, 'I exceedingly fear and quake'! I am forming ideal
schemes of vengeance. O for a little of my will on him! I just wished he
loved as I do - as glorious an object as Clarinda - and that he were
doomed. Adieu, and think on
Sylvander
In the days following his return to Edinburgh, Burns signed the missive
for Ellisland Farm, dealt with William Creech, not too successfully, and
spent the following days finding out what would be wanted of and from
him for his entry into the Excise. Burns was to write to Dr. Moore on 4th
January 1789 regarding the 'gentleman' - 'I cannot boast of Mr. Creech's
ingenuous fair-dealing to me. -He kept me hanging on about Edinburgh from 7th
August 1787, untill 13th April 1788, before he would condescend to give me a
Statement of affairs; nor had I got it even then, but for an angry letter I wrote him
which irritated his pride.' The letter may be one sent on 31st March 1788,
which is not a very angry one, or one destroyed by Creech dated c12th
March 1788. Creech is suspected of having had pirated copies of Burns
work made, pocketing the monies for himself. This was considered the
main reason that he was keeping himself out of the reach of an explosive
Robert Burns. A Town Bailie, he was a nefarious character, no good and
mean up to his false powdered wig-line.
FIFTEENTH MEETING - Thursday 13th March 1788
He met with Agnes, on 13th as agreed, they both knew that their little
amour adventure had come to its natural end. He still teased her with
thinking that she could be something more in his life than just a friend,
which was cruel. He made promises he knew he had no intention of
129185
keeping. By now he must have been told about Jean's twins and didn't care
if he hurt Agnes or not, he hurt, that was enough. If he did know, he kept
it to himself.
Agnes was in emotional shreds. On one hand she was relieved he was
going, for her sanity and reputation, on the other with the utmost sadness
she knew that they would likely never meet again, no matter what he had
said about the nearness of Edinburgh to Ellisland. If he did return he
would definitely be a married man, married to Jean Armour, father to
three children with probably more on the way. On his return on Friday
there was a letter from Agnes waiting for him, her letter is lost but not his
reply.
Letter 59
Friday Night, Nine o'clock Night - 14th March 1788
Sylvander to Clarinda
I am just now come in and have read your letter. The first thing I did, was
to thank the Divine Disposer of events, that he has had such happiness in
store for me as the connexion I have with you. Life, my Clarinda, is a
weary barren path; and woe be to him or her that ventures on it alone! For
me, I have my dearest partner of my soul: Clarinda and I will make out
our pilgrimage together. Wherever I am, I shall constantly let her know
how I go on, what I observe in the world around me, and what adventures
I meet with. Will it please you, my love, to get, every week, or, at least,
every fortnight, a packet, two or three sheets, full of remarks, nonsense,
news, rhymes, and old songs?
Will you open, with satisfaction and delight, a letter from a man who
loves you, who has loved you, and who will love you to death, through
death, and for ever? Oh Clarinda! what do I owe to Heaven for blessing
me with such a piece of exalted excellence as you! I call over your idea, as
a miser counts over his treasure! Tell me, were you studious to please me
last night? I am sure you did it to transport. How rich am I who have such
a treasure as you! You know me; you know how to make me happy, and
you do it most effectually. God bless you with
Long life, long youth, long pleasure, and a friend.
Tomorrow night (15th), according to your own directions, I shall watch
the window: 'tis the star that guides me to paradise. The great relish to all
is, that Honour, that innocence, that Religion, are the witnesses and
guarantees of our happiness. 'The Lord God knoweth', and perhaps, 'Israel
he shall know', my love and your merit. Adieu, Clarinda! I am going to
remember you in my prayers.
Sylvander
211969
(Between this letter and the following there are, at the very least, half a
dozen letters missing)
Robert was desperate to get out of Edinburgh, he’d had enough. He may
have been grieving the death of the twin daughter he never got to see, and
the other twin not expected to last much longer. He knew Jean would be
suffering, and he could do nothing to help her being a hundred miles
away. He had no one to confide in so he had to carry on in a 'business as
usual' mode. He was inducted into the Excise on Monday 17th March, and
he could now let himself exhale. It was as if he had been holding his breath
for months waiting for this to happen.
He was still not finished with Creech and the dues owed to him, that
would not be concluded until the 30th May when the miser and probable
fraudster finally paid up. All he had to deal with now was Agnes then he
could quit Edinburgh a free man to breathe some clean country air and
meet with his own kind of people. He had come to Edinburgh in
November 1786 naïve, hopeful and a bit defensive and arrogant, he was
leaving it sixteen months later wearied, wiser, slightly wealthier and
certainly grimier with a very bad taste left in his mouth. He had been
there, done that and didn't want to do it anymore. He took up his pen to
write to Agnes.
Letter 60
Monday, Noon - 17th March 1788
Sylvander to Clarinda
I will meet you tomorrow, Clarinda, as you appoint. My Excise affair is
just concluded, and I have got my order for instructions: so far good.
Wednesday night I am engaged to sup among some of the principals of the
Excise: so, can only make a call for you that evening; but next day I stay to
dine with one of the Commissioners, so cannot go till Friday Morning.
Your hopes, your fears, your cares, my love, are mine; so, don't mind
them. I will take you in my hand through the dreary wilds of this world
and scare away the ravening bird or beast that would annoy you. I saw
Mary in town today and asked her if she had seen you. I shall certainly
bespeak Mr. Ainslie as you desire.
Excuse me, my dearest angel, this hurried scrawl and miserable paper:
circumstances make both. Farewell till to-morrow.
Sylvander
SIXTEENTH MEETING - Monday 17th March 1788
Burns and Agnes met on the Monday as opposed to the Tuesday night
220107
and, maybe, for the first time the couple openly walked the Edinburgh
streets together, rubbing elbows, talking as old friends, laughing, pointing
to things, each knowing in their heart's core that this would be the swan
song to their brief magical episode. Burns was probably carrying his silent
grief in himself and was in low spirits. Did Agnes believe that it was
because he was leaving her?
Both enjoyed their time, and, returning to her house, the rest of the night
remained fraughtless. As a parting gift, Robert gave Agnes an elegant pair
of drinking glasses and the poem, 'To Clarinda' - 'Fair Empress of the Poet's
soul...' Agnes had these glasses up until she died and never tired of
showing them off to visitors. Robert wrote to her the next morning.
Letter 61
Tuesday, Morning - 18th March 1788
Sylvander to Clarinda
I am just hurrying away to wait on the Great Man (Robert Graham of
Fintry/Earl of Glencairn), Clarinda; but I have more respect to my own
peace and happiness than to set out without waiting on you; for my
imagination, like a child's favourite bird, will fondly flutter along with this
scrawl till it perch on your bosom. -I thank you for all the happiness you
bestowed on me yesterday. -The walk - delightful: the evening-rapture. -
Do not be uneasy to-day, Clarinda; forgive me. -I am in rather better spirits
to-day, though I had but an indifferent night: care, anxiety, sat on my
spirits; and all the chearfulness of this morning is the fruit of some serious,
important ideas that lie in their realities beyond 'the dark and the narrow
house', as Ossian, prince of Poets, says. The Father of Mercies be with you,
Clarinda! and every good thing attend you!
Sylvander
SEVENTEENTH MEETING - Wednesday 19th March 1788?
THE END OF THE EPISODE
Burns was to meet Agnes on Wednesday evening (19th) after his dinner
with the principals of the Excise (letter of 17th). It is not known if they kept
this visit, but it is more than likely. He also had a dinner with one of the
Commissioners to fit in on Thursday 20th, which it looks like he cancelled
as he wrote a letter to Captain Richard Brown from Glasgow on that date.
He was not sorry to see the back of Edinburgh, and maybe even Agnes.
She had served her purpose, keeping his poetical mind on the hop, even if
221081
his sore leg hadn't, she had not been boring, she had even taught him a
little about self-control, a very, very mine-yute little. She made his heart
leap for happiness one minute and his head pound the next - she was a
very complicated woman. She was sharp and tender and strong and
vulnerable and understanding and forgiving, but most of all, funny. If he
ever needed a heroine for any future song or poem, she was gifted with all
the necessary facets ever needed. One hundred and nine days and
seventeen face-to-face meetings, it seemed like a small epic. To think on
her, and he always would, was poetry itself. She was a walking verse and
had served a poetic purpose.
Now Robert had to get back to reality, and his reality lay with Mauchline
and Jean Armour. If she would have him, and how he prayed she would,
he would be the luckiest man alive were she to accept him into her heart
for the rest of their lives. He was back in Mauchline on 21st March, so it is
likely that held his remaining twin daughter and kissed her goodbye
before she died on 22nd, and maybe even carried her at her burial.
Letters 59, 60, 57, 58 have previously been dated to March 31st, April 8th,
April 9th, April 11th and taken from the edition of the 1843 Letters edited by
Agnes' grandson. If this dating is correct, then it means that there is a
wheen of letters missing between the couple from 8th March 1788 to 31st
March 1788. James MacKay has re-dated them to middle March and the
time of Burns induction into the Excise in Edinburgh. De Lancey Ferguson
also dated them all to March but dated L57 to the 19th and L58 to the 14th.
Burns had to pay for his own Excise training, which was expensive, and
after leaving Edinburgh he arranged to start his instruction under James
Findlay c7th April in Tarbolton and not Edinburgh. He had informed
Robert Graham of Fintry (Commissioner of the Scottish Board of Excise) of
this on 25th March. After the initial period Burns would receive a
Certificate of Fitness but he did not receive his Excise Commission until
14th July 1788.
Just before starting his instruction into the Excise, Robert Burns and Jean
Armour celebrated a civil marriage, thought to have been performed at
Gavin Hamilton's office by John Farquhar-Gray of Gilminscroft of the
parish of Sorn, a local magistrate. The ceremony was private and irregular,
though not unexpected as Robert and Jean had been living openly as
husband and wife in Dr. MacKenzie's house, where the dead twins had
been born, since Burns' return from Edinburgh. It has also been reported
that the marriage took place at a public house owned by John Ronald or in
220129
Hugh Morton's public house/dance room near Gavin Hamilton's
residence. Agnes was never told of this marriage by Burns, which was
cowardly on his part. (Burns Chronicle 1896).
It is strange that to this day no evidence of this marriage has ever come to
light, and there should have been evidentiary paperwork albeit was a civil
and not a Kirk marriage. It is thought that the marriage took place
sometime toward the end of March 1788. In a letter to James Smith on 28th
April 1788, Jean is referred to as Mrs. Burns for the first time. It was over
the next few months that Robert let his friends know that he and Jean were
now husband and wife, and only if it was necessary for them to know. For
a poet and wordsmith Robert could be strange and kept his secrets from
all and sundry, even those secrets that did not need to be secret. He did
like to make mountains out of molehills - the more dramatic, the better.
On 5th August the couple were made respectable in the community and
their relationship made correct in the eyes of God when the following was
inserted in the Parish Register of Marriages -
‘Burns, Robert in Mossgiel and Jean Armour in Machlin came before the session
on 5th Augt. and Acknowledged that they were irregularly married *some Years
ago. The Session rebuked both parties for this irregularity and took them solemnly
bound to adhere to one another as Husband & Wife all the days of their life.’
*(Some years ago, doesn't sound as recent as five months previously - so
still a mystery, though probably refers to the alleged 'marriage' paper
destroyed by Jean's father in 1786).
222003
POST BURNS
For Agnes, time began to stretch out, one boring day after another. Her
heart pained to see Burns with each breaking dawn, and with each day's
end her eyes filled with tears for want of the man. She cared for her
children, as before, and went about her day's duties, as before, and met
people she knew, as before, but a light in her life had dimmed and
everyone and everything seemed just a little bit flatter and greyer. It was
about this time she wrote her poem 'To Sympathy', a poem which could
only have ever been about Burns.
But Agnes was a survivor and slowly, she took charge of herself and her
recently errant emotions. At least she knew she still had these emotions
alive inside of her. James MacLehose never succeeded in destroying the
core of her, nor would Robert Burns, and though she had toyed with
danger and admittedly was more than a bit scarred by it, she would heal,
and she was pleased that she could still hurt for love, she was still human.
Her first challenge was to cleanse her somewhat sullied standing in the
community and regain her good name. Deciding to look upon all as
questionable, especially those who had shown their true colours after the
'non-affair' saw light, she became her manipulative best. Two who fell into
the questionable basket were Erskine Nimmo and Mary Peacock. She
would forgive, but as far as forgetting - forget it!
The hardest shock was learning from Jenny Clow of her pregnancy, and
that the father of her child was none other than Mr. Burns. Agnes didn't
know who to blame, including herself. She should never have sent Jenny
to Burns, but she could never have guessed in a million years what would
happen between them. He had shown no interest whatsoever in Jenny
when he had, on the very few occasions, met her in Agnes' house. Agnes
knew how hard she had had to fight to keep her integrity intact from a
Burns onslaught, so how could a girl of Jenny's experience manage in that
situation - by the outcome it was quite clear that she could not.
She was not expecting the next shock to arrive so soon after this, but
Robert Ainslie couldn't wait to spill the beans about 'The Marriage', he was
practically slavering with excitement at the news he was bringing to her,
now she realised why she had not heard from Burns, and how much of a
craven coward he was for not informing her of the wedding himself.
220241
Letter to Robert Ainslie
Mauchline - 26th May 1788
My Dear Friend,
I am two kind of letters in your debt, but I have been from home &
horridly busy, buying & preparing for that farming business; over & above
the plague of my Excise Instructions which this week will finish.
As I flatter my wishes that I foresee many future years' Correspondence
between us, 'tis foolish to talk of excusing dull epistles: a dull letter may be
a very kind one.
I have the pleasure to tell you that I have been extremely fortunate in all
my buyings and bargainings hitherto; Mrs. Burns not excepted, which title
I now avow to the World. -I am truly pleased with this last affair: it has
indeed added to my anxieties for Futurity but it has given a stability to my
mind and resolutions, unknown before; and the poor girl has the most
sacred enthusiasm of attachment to me, and has not a wish but to gratify
my every idea of her deportment.
I am interrupted
Farewel My dear Sir! -
Robt Burns
Direct me at Mauchline.
In June 1788, a year after Burns was involved in a situation with
Margaret/May Cameron and her pregnancy, Ainslie informed Burns of
another girl in trouble, Jenny Clow. There may have been doubts about
Burns being the father in the Cameron case, but not in the Clow case. This
time it was clear that he was the father of this child.
Letter to Robert Ainslie
Dumfries - about 1st June 1788 (1787)
My first welcome to this place was the inclosed letter. -I am very sorry for
it, but what is done is done. -I pay you no compliment when I say that
except my old friend Smith there is not any person in the world that I
would trust so far. -Please call at the James Hog (shoemaker, Buchanan's
Land, Head of Canongate) mentioned, and send for the wench and give her
ten or twelve shillings, but don't for Heaven's sake meddle with her as a
Piece. -I insist on this, on your honor; and advise her out to some country
friends. -You may perhaps not like the business, but I just tax your
friendship thus far. -Call for God sake, lest the poor soul be starving. -Ask
her for a letter I wrote her just now, by way of token. -it is unsigned. Write
me after the meeting-
Robt Burns
222025
It must be noted that the above letter is wrongly dated and refers to
(Margaret) May Cameron, who in 1787 averred that she was pregnant, and
that Burns was the father. She issued a writ against Burns, but it was never
carried through as it is possible she suffered a miscarriage, also he may not
have been the father. Burns carried the writ with him and had jotted down
two songs on the back of it. Also, the letter from Burns is sent from
Dumfries, whereas he was living at Mauchline in June 1788, and the
previous day, 31st May, he had written to Andrew Dunlop from there. On
the 29th May 1787 Burns wrote to Ainslie from Newcastle and on 1st June
1787 he wrote to Willie Nicol from Carlisle. Leaving Carlisle, he headed
Scotland-ward to Dumfries where he was given the freedom of the burgh
on the 4th June 1787. The letter he refers to in his letter was sent by one of
May Cameron's friends telling him of her situation. The writer of the letter
may have been Mrs Hog, with whom May Cameron lived and worked for.
Jenny's situation was mentioned in passing in a very long letter Burns
wrote to Ainslie on 30th June 1788, and Ainslie's letter of a couple of days
before appears to be the first time Burns has heard of her pregnancy.
Certainly, Agnes had not informed him of it, though she clearly had told
Ainslie of it. 'I am vexed at that affair of the girl but dare not enlarge on the
subject until you send me your direction, as I suppose that will be altered on your
late Master and Friend's death.' He would also realise that the game was up
regarding Agnes MacLehose, which would only affect his manipulative
manly pride, certainly not any guilty nerve end. Jenny Clow probably with
the agreement of Agnes and with the possible help and advice of Ainslie
may have taken out an 'in meditatione fugae' writ (a flight risk) against
Burns. Jenny gave birth to a son cNovember 1788, whom she named
Robert Burns Clow.
Robert became involved in a farcical situation which could have ended
very badly for Agnes MacLehose. She didn't like Willie Nicol and passed
on a nasty story about him to Burns. Robert then passed the story on to
Mr. Cruikshank. Burns thought that the story was started by Dr.
Alexander Adams, Rector of the High School, who also did not like Nicol.
Cruikshank passed the story on to Nicol with the aside that it might have
come from Adams, just at the time when another argument blew up
between Nicol and Adams.
Now Nicol wanted to know who told Burns in the first place, Burns
refused to give up Agnes' name, and Nicol informed him that he would
take out a summons to make him tell. Burns had then to inform Agnes of
the situation, just as she thought she was getting him out from under her
220263
skin. In the end Robert Ainslie managed to pour oil on the troubled waters
and all the parties involved were towed to a harbour of peace.
Letter to Robert Ainslie
Mauchline - 23 August 1788
I received your last my dear friend, but I write you just now on vexatious
business.
I don't know if I ever told you some very bad reports that Mrs.
MacLehose once told me of Mr. Nicol. I had mentioned the affair to Mr.
Cruikshank, in the course of conversation about our common friend, that a
lady had said so & so, which I suspected had originated from some
malevolence of Dr. Adams. -He had mentioned this story to Mr. Nicol
cursorily, & there it rested; till now, a prosecution has commenced
between Dr. A. & Mr. N., & Mr. N. has press'd me over & over to give up
the lady's name. -I have refused this: & last post, Mr. N. acquaints me, but
in very good-natured terms, that if I persist in my refusal, I am to be
served with a summons to compear & declare the fact.
Heaven knows how I should proceed! I have this moment wrote Mrs. Mc-
---se, telling her that I have informed you of the affair; & I shall write Mr.
Nicol by Tuesday's post that I will not give up my female friend till farther
consideration; but that I have acquainted you with the business & the
name; & that I have desired that you wait on him, which I intreat, my dear
Sir, you will do; & give up the name or not, as Your & Mrs. Mc----se's
prudence shall suggest.
Adieu! I am ever most cordially yours
Robert Burns
In January 1789, Burns wrote to Ainslie about Jenny Clow's writ, needing
to find out her address in Edinburgh to see her, and his son. It may be then
that he told Jenny he would be willing to bring the boy up in his family
with Jean Armour 'settle the matter with her, & free her hand of the process',
but Jenny was having none of it and refused to allow him to take the boy.
Letter to Robert Ainslie
Ellisland - 6th January 1789
*****I shall be in town about four or five weeks, & I must again trouble you
to find & secure for me a direction where to find Jenny Clow, for a main
part of my business in Edinburgh is to settle that matter with her, & free
her hand of the process.
I shall not be above two or three nights in town; but one of them I shall
certainly devote to witness with how much esteem & affection I am,
My dear Friend, yours-
222047
Robt Burns
In February 1789 Burns came to Edinburgh to sort out the situation with
Jenny. Staying from the 16th to the 27th, he did not visit Agnes. Whether
this was through being busy with Excise work and Creech or shame or
fear, who knows? Burns wanted to further his career in the Excise and was
meeting anyone who would listen to his request. He was not successful
with Jenny.
The couple had not been in the constant contact promised by Burns and
Agnes was hurt to the core, she felt used and dismissed and was in no
mood to listen to his flowery words, though she would have loved to have
been in his company, despite the circumstances and the heartache. But
once again Burns, she thought, had shown his callous side and ignored
her. She wrote to Burns at Heron's Inn where he was staying, possibly
whipped into a frenzy by Robert Ainslie, and her letter was full of anger
and pain and maybe spite. Ainslie must have enjoyed hearing about its
contents from her, rubbing his sweaty little palms together. Agnes' letter is
missing.
Before leaving Edinburgh, from his following letter, Burns had had a
change of heart regarding seeing Agnes and towards the end of the letter it
is very clear that Ainslie had had a manipulative hand in Burns' decision
not to go through with the meeting, and had talked the poet out of his
intention of a visit saying that Agnes had said she didn't want to even
catch a glimpse of him or his shadow on the street or through her window.
Ainslie must have been very jealous of Burns, and very attracted to Agnes,
whom he never had a chance with. Burns letter is the first communication
to exist in print to Agnes since the 18th March 1788, a year before. There
may have been letters, but they have either been lost or destroyed or are
awaiting to be found.
Letter 62
9 March 1789
Robert to Agnes
Madam,
The letter you wrote me to Heron's carried its own answer in its bosom:
you forbade me to write you unless I was willing to plead, Guilty, to a
certain Indictment that you were pleased to bring against me. -As I am
convinced of my own innocence, and though conscious of high
imprudence & egregious folly, can lay my hand on my breast and attest
the rectitude of my heart; you will pardon me, Madam, if I do not carry
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my complaisance so far, as humbly to acquiesce to the name of, Villain,
merely out of compliment even to YOUR opinion; much as I esteem your
judgement, and warmly as I regard your worth. I have already told you,
and I again aver it, that at the period of time alluded to, I was not under
the smallest moral tie to Mrs. B.; nor did I, nor could I then know, all the
powerful circumstances that omnipotent Necessity was busy laying in
wait for me. -When you call over the scenes that have passed between us,
you will survey the conduct of an honest man, struggling successfully with
temptations the most powerful that ever beset humanity, and preserving
untainted honor in situations where the austerest Virtue would have given
a fall - Situations that I will dare to say, not a single individual of all his
kind, even with half his sensibility and passion, could have encountered
without ruin, and I leave you to guess, Madam, how such a man is likely
to digest an accusation of perfidious treachery!
Was I to blame, Madam, in being the distracted victim of Charms which, I
affirm it, no man ever approached with impunity? -Had I seen the least
glimmering of hope that these Charms could ever have been mine - or
even had not iron Necessity - but these are unavailing words.
I would have called you when I was in town, indeed I could not have
resisted it, but that Mr. A. (Ainslie) told me that you were determined to
avoid your windows while I was in town, lest even a glance of me should
occur in the Street.
When I have regained your good opinion, perhaps I may venture to
solicit your friendship: but be that as it may, the first of her Sex I ever
knew, shall always be the object of my warmest good wishes.
Regarding the above letter, Burns was desperately trying to back pedal. He
stretched the truth as far as he could, waiting for it to snap. By February of
1788 Burns had indeed known what-was-what as regards his relationship
with Jean Armour, and where it was going to end, and he played Agnes
for his own amusement. So was he a Villain as charged by her - yes, he
most definitely was. He tried to scramble his way up to the moral high
ground with his protestations - 'struggling successfully with temptations,
preserving untainted honour, encountering potential ruin' - certainly didn't
describe his quick fling with Jenny Clow. As for Agnes' accusation of
'perfidious treachery', hold your hand up Mr. Burns. After trying to shift the
blame for the situation on to Agnes, he told her that he would have visited
her when he was in Edinburgh, but Ainslie advised him not to, in no
uncertain terms. Did Agnes ever take Ainslie to task over his advice to
Burns? We will never know, as Ainslie burned all his letters of the time.
He tried to end the letter as a charmer, but the attempt sounds hollow and
hypocritical.
222069
After Burns left Edinburgh in March 1788, the correspondence between
them did not stop, though it was sporadic. When the letters of Burns
replies are read, it is obvious that Agnes had no intention or inclination to
forgive him - EVER! She poured out all her anger towards him in 'guid
black prent' - though sometimes 'blude red prent' would have been more
appropriate. How much she did suffer in Edinburgh is not known, nor for
how long. Did she imagine any small slight to be traced back to her
dalliance with Burns, instead of putting it all in perspective? Even
according to her grandson, Agnes was not very good at perspective. Every
time she sat down to write to Burns, she hurt, and she made sure that he
knew it. For someone who professed to be on the right side of God, she
was lacking somewhat in the ‘forgive and forget’ factor. Her Christian
principals flew out the window as far as Burns was concerned. She was a
woman betrayed, and for her betrayal was the worst sin possible.
Burns did not help matters as in his replies he was still trying to flirt with
her and not understand her frustrations with him. Two children playing
the 'he said - she said/her fault - his fault' game. If Burns had not died in
1796, how long would she have gone on nursing and feeding her hurt
feelings? It could have become like an old fashioned historical harrying.
Could it be simply that her life in Edinburgh was so boring that she
needed the spark from Burns letters to put a little fire into her life, make
her feel that she still had a woman’s heart and a lover's soul?
Despite escaping the heavy pollution of Edinburgh and embracing once
again the clean air of the countryside, from taking on the farm at Ellisland,
Robert's health deteriorated. He was working in all kinds of weather
bringing the place up to habitable standard, and doing most of the work
himself, sleeping in harsh conditions at night, but he was a farmer bred
and had to get on with it. Buildings needed built up and repaired, fields
tilled, drains dug and in September of 1788 he caught 'this fashionable
influenza', very bad for a man with a weak heart.
He also fell, and damaged his knee, the one hurt in the coach fall in
December 1787. Then colds and aches followed, and nervous exhaustion.
All the time this was happening he was still doing his Excise duties, riding
all over the country in good, bad and indifferent weather on the back of a
horse, not even a small carriage to cover him and keep him dry and
element protected. Jean did not move into Ellisland with Burns until
cApril 1789. Before then she and Burns had been renting the ground floor
of David Newall's house at the 'Isle'.
221207
After finally settling into Ellisland Burns, in 1790 decided to move from
arable to dairy farming and left Jean in charge of that. Burns was
beginning to think that farming was not for him after all, 'this farm has
undone the enjoyment of myself.' He tried to focus on the Excise.
The next two letters to Agnes express how he was feeling, and the second
letter, obviously a reply to one of Agnes', accuses her of using bullying
tactics to get him to confess to behaving like a ‘cad’. He did.
Letter 63
February 1790
Robert to Agnes
I have indeed been ill, Madam, this whole winter. An incessant headache,
depression of spirits, and all the truly miserable consequences of a
deranged nervous system, have made dreadful havoc on my health and
peace. Add to all this, a line of life, into which I have lately entered, obliges
me to ride, upon an average, at least 200 miles every week. However,
thank heaven I am now greatly better in my health ... (several lines have been
cut from the original manuscript) I cannot, will, not, enter into extenuatory
circumstances; else I could show you how my precipitate, headlong,
unthinking conduct leagued, with a conjuncture of unlucky events, to
thrust me out of a possibility of keeping the path of rectitude; to curse me
by an irreconcilable war between my duty and my nearest wishes, and to
damn me with a choice only of different species of error and misconduct.
I dare not trust myself further with this subject. The following song is one
of my latest productions; and I send it to you as I would do anything else,
because it pleases myself.
Thine am I, my faithful fair,
Thine, my lovely Nancy:
Ev'ry pulse along my veins,
Ev'ry roving fancy.
To thy bosom lay my heart,
There to throb and languish:
Tho' despair had wrung its core,
That would heat its anguish.
Take away those rosy lips,
Rich with balmy treasure!
Turn away thine eyes of love,
Lest I die with pleasure!
222181
What is life when wanting love?
Night without a morning:
Love's the cloudless summer sun,
Nature gay adorning.
Letter 64
Ellisland, - February 1790
Robert to Agnes
...in health. I do not rate the fatigue a farthing. This laborious life secures
me independence, a blessing which you know few people price higher
than I.
I could not answer your last letter but one when you in so many words
tell a man that 'you look on his letters with a smile of contempt', in what
language, Madam, can he answer you? Though I were conscious that I had
acted wrong - and I am conscious that I have acted wrong - yet I would not
be bullied into repentance, but your last letter quite disarmed me.
Determined as you......
In October 1790, while still at Ellisland, Burns suffered a bout of quinsy, a
very nasty throat infection which causes abscesses to form at the back of
the throat next to the tonsils. Today he would need to spend some time in
hospital, be given antibiotics and then a week's bed rest to avoid the
potential of the infection spreading through the body, causing breathing
difficulties. But in those days, you just had to get on with it and get over it
as quickly as possible.
On the 15th October, Robert Ainslie visited Burns at Ellisland as Burns was
recovering. He turned up at a kirn-nicht or harvest home night, to
celebrate the crops being gathered in. Aitken was shocked to see the dress
of his friend, as he was kitted up in working 'hodden grey' as opposed to
the fine dress of the Excise workers.
Ainslie acted like the snobbish prig he aspired to, and in his letter to Agnes
was very insulting of Burns and of Jean, whom he obviously considered to
be beneath him in every way both in her dress and appearance. Even
though she was pregnant, he said she had let her figure go. I wonder if
Agnes smiled to herself, muttering 'I told you so!' Preening in her cheval
mirror, thinking, 'well at least I have still got it, and haven't let myself go!'
Ainslie wrote to Agnes on the 17th 'We spent the evening in the way common
on such occasions - of dancing and kissing the lasses at the end of every
dance......Our friend is as ingenuous as ever and seems happy with the situation I
221229
have described. His mind, however, seems to me to be a great mixture of the poet
and exciseman. One day he sits down and writes a beautiful poem - and the next
seize a cargo of tobacco from some unfortunate smuggler, or roups out some poor
wretch for selling liquors without a licence. From his conversation, he seems to be
pretty frequently among the great… Having found that his farm does not answer,
he is about to give it up, and depend wholly on the Excise.'
As we have come to expect there will be many letters between Agnes and
Robert missing between the last known letter and the next. Both got on
with their separate lives, Robert to his farm and his Excise work, and
Agnes to looking after her sons, William was getting worse and she
realised that it would only be time before he was, like her two previous
children, taken from her. The boy lasted until 14th August 1790, the same
date that in 1777 her first son, William, died.
In January 1791 Burns fell with his horse breaking his right arm, his
writing arm. It was the 11th April before he could use his hand again.
There is an element of farce in this next letter, and it makes you realise
how much was lost from Agnes when some of her letters went missing.
She was like a terrier chasing a rabbit down a hole, and never letting it get
out again, barking the same bark forever and ever Amen! Now she was
telling him that she would publish his letters so as everyone could see
what a rotter he was. An early form of trial by tabloid, and he was scared,
well it could affect his Excise career. Then she was asking him his opinion
of a poem she had written, we don't know what poem it was. In turn he
enclosed in his reply a poem he wrote for her. They really did need each
other - but only from a distance, that way the reality of each other could
not get in the way.
Letter 65
Ellisland, - July 1791
Robert to Agnes
I have received both your last letters, Madam, & ought & would have
answered the first long ago. -But on what subject shall I write you? How
can you expect a Correspondent should write you, when you declare that
you mean to preserve his letters with a view, sooner or later, to expose
them on the pillory of derision & the rack of criticism? This is gagging me
compleatly, as to speaking the sentiments of my bosom; else, Madam, I
could perhaps too truly
Join grief with grief & echo sighs to thine!
I have perused your most beautiful but most pathetic Poem - do not ask
223103
me how often, or with what emotions.
You know that, 'I dare to sin, but not to lie'. -Your verses wring the
confession from my inmost soul that - I will say it - expose it if you please -
that - I have more than once in my life been the victim of a damning
conjecture of circumstances; & that to me you must be ever
Dear as the light that visits those sad eyes
* * * * * *.
Sweet Sensibility, how charming,
Thou, my friend, canst truly tell;
But how Distress, with horrors arming,
Thou, alas! hast known too well!
Fairest Flower, behold the lily,
Blooming in the sunny ray;
Let the blast sweep o'er the valley,
See it prostrate on the clay.
Hear the wood-lark charm the forest,
Telling o'er his little joys;
But, alas! a prey the surest
To the pirate of the skies.
Dearly bought the hidden treasure
Finer feelings can bestow:
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of wo.
I have just, since I had yours, composed the inclosed Stanzas. -Let me
know your opinion of them -I have one other Piece in your taste, but I
have just a snatch of time. (The signature has been cut from the manuscript)
1791
When Agnes' son William, who had suffered from ill health for all of his
short life, died she was devastated. She wrote immediately to MacLehose
informing him of his son's death. It was a year before she heard anything
back from her snake of a husband. As to whether she told Burns of the
child's death, probably yes. He would also have heard about her loss from
the ubiquitous Robert Ainslie. It would not be like Robert Burns to ignore
the death of her child and let it pass without writing at least one letter, so it
is probably one of the many letters that are in the missing mountain.
In August 1791 James MacLehose finally wrote back to her, as we do not
221341
have his first letter, we cannot guess what he had written in it, just surmise
that it was written when he was drunk as per usual and full of contrition
and promises. This was swiftly followed by a second letter containing a
banker’s draft and an unexpected request for Agnes to let MacLehose
know if she would be willing to go out to Jamaica to reside. As Agnes was
to write, 'In August 1790, my delicate child was happily delivered from his
sufferings. I wrote again immediately of his death. Still I received no answer till
the following August, when I had a letter, and, soon after, another, inviting me to
come out to Jamaica, and enclosing a bill for £50 (£6,875), which was meant, I
suppose, to equip me; and containing the most flattering directions to give his
only surviving son the best Education Edinburgh would afford.'
Kingston, Jamaica, August 1791
...With regard to my dear son, it is my wish that he should be placed in
the first boarding-school for young gentlemen, either in Edinburgh or its
environs: whatever expense may attend it, shall be regularly and
punctually paid. It is my wish that he should continue at the latin until he
is perfect master of that language; and, when that is accomplished, I wish
him to be instructed in the French, which is now become so generally
useful all over the globe, and, in particular, here, where I intend to fix him
in business. It will be proper, also, that he be immediately put under a
dancing-master, and, what is still more requisite, that he should learn to
fence. No expense can be incurred that will not be discharged with infinite
pleasure and satisfaction, provided he is to benefit by it as I would wish. If
you have no inclination to come out to this country, I then have to request
you to embrace the first opportunity to inform me of such determination,
as in that case I will immediately order my son up to London and put him
under the care of one of the first West India houses in the city, to receive
the remainder of his education either at Westminster or at Eton, whichever
they think most advisable....
Agnes tried to discuss this situation with her friends and acquaintances,
but they would not advise her one way or another, leaving the decision
entirely up to herself, as indeed it should have been. Finally, for the sake of
her remaining son's future, she accepted and decided to go to Jamaica. 'I
consulted my friends, they declined giving any advice, and referred me to my own
mind. After much agitation, and deep and anxious reflection for my only child's
sake, for whom he promised much liberal things, and encouraged by flattering
accounts of his character and conduct in Jamaica, I resolved to undertake the
arduous voyage.'
The following are letters that Agnes wrote to William Craig regarding her
223125
decision to leave for Jamaica. William Craig was not in Edinburgh at the
time. They were written September/October of 1791 and Agnes had
spoken to the Captain of the ship regarding her insecurity as to her
husband's honesty of feelings.
General's Entry, Potterrow, - August/September 1791
My Dear Sir,
When I wrote to you last, the bidding adieu to my dear boy was my only
source of anxiety. I had then no idea whatever of going out to Mr.
MacLehose. Next day I learned from Mrs. Adair that Captain Liddel had
told her my husband had the strongest resolution of using me kindly in
case I accepted of his invitation; and that pride alone hindered his
acknowledging his faults a second time, still hurt at my not answering his
overtures of reconciliation from London. But that, in case I did not choose
to come over, I might rest assured I never would hear from him while he
existed. Captain Liddel added his opinion that I ought to go, in the
strongest terms. Mrs. Adair joins him; and, above all, my poor boy adds
his entreaties most earnestly. I thought it prudent to inform him, for the
first time, of the disagreement between his parents, and the unhappy
jealousy in his father's temper. Still he argues that his father may be
incensed at my refusal. If I go I have a terror of the sea, and no less of the
climate; above all, the horror of again involving myself in misery in the
midst of strangers, and almost without remedy. If I refuse, I must bid my
only child (in whom all my affections and hopes are entirely centered)
adieu forever; struggle with a straitened income and the world's censure
solitary and unprotected. The bright side of these alternatives is, that if I
go, my husband's jealousy of temper may be abated, from a better
knowledge of the world; and time and misfortunes, by making alterations
both on person and vivacity, will render me less likely to incur his
suspicions; and that ill humour, which partly arose from straitened
fortune, will be removed by affluence.
I will enjoy my son's society, and have him for a friend, and who knows
what effect so fine a boy may have on a father long absent from his sight. If
I refuse, and stay here, I shall continue to enjoy a circle of kind, respectable
friends. Though my income be small, I can never be in want; and I shall
maintain that liberty which, after nine years enjoyment, I shall find it hard
to forego, even to the degree to which I am sensible every married woman
must submit.
I am, dear Sir,
Yours most truely,
Agnes MacLehose.
221363
Potterrow, - August/September 1791
My Dear Sir,
On Friday I went down to Leith and had a conversation on board the
Roselle with Captain Liddel. He told me that Mr. MacLehose had talked of
me, and of my coming over, with great tenderness; and said it would be
my fault if we did not enjoy great happiness; and concluded with assuring
me, if I were his own child he would advise me to go out. This
conversation has tended greatly to decide my accepting my husband's
invitation. I have done what you desired me, - weighed coolly (as coolly as
a subject so interesting would permit) all I have to suffer or expect in either
situation; and the result is, my going to Jamaica. This appears to me the
preferable choice: it is surely the path of duty; and as such, I may look for
the blessing of God to attend my endeavours for happiness with him who
was my husband by my choice, and the father of my children. On
Saturday I was agreeably surprised by a call from Mr. Kemp. He had
received my letter that morning at Glasgow and had alighted for a few
minutes, on his way to Easter Duddingston, where his family are for
summer quarters. He was much affected by my perplexing situation. Like
you, he knew not how to decide, and left me promising to call early this
day, which he has done. I told him of the meeting with Mr. Liddel and
enumerated all the arguments which I had thought of on all sides of the
question. What Mr. Liddel (who is a man of known worth) said to me
weighed much with him; and he, too, is now of opinion my going to
Jamaica is advisable.
He gave me much good advice as to my conduct towards Mr. MacLehose
and promised to write himself. Your letter luckily arrived when he was
with me. The assurance of my little income being secured me, not a little
adds both to his opinion to the propriety of my going, and to my ease and
comfort, in case (after doing all I can) it should prove impossible to enjoy
that peace which I so earnestly pant after; and I would fain hope for a
tender reception. After ten years' separation, and the sacrifice I make of
bidding adieu (probably for ever) to my friends and my country - indeed, I
am much depressed in mind - should I escape the sea, the climate may
prove fatal to me; but should it happen so, I have the satisfaction to think I
shall die in attempting to attain happiness in that path of duty which
Providence and a succession of events seem to point out for the best. You,
my kind dear benefactor, have had much trouble with me first and last;
and though others appear ungrateful, neither time nor absence can ever
erase from my heart the remembrance of your past kindness. My prayers
shall ascend for the reward of heaven upon your head!
To-morrow I am to write to my husband. Mr. Kemp is to see it on
Wednesday. If any person occurs to you as proper to place Andrew with
223147
in Edinburgh, let me know - the sooner the better: the hopes of his
rejoining me will help to console my mind in the midst of strangers. I am
sorry you are to be so long of coming to town.
Meantime I shall be glad to hear from you; for I am, my dear Sir, in every
possible situation, your affectionate and obliged friend,
Agnes MacLehose
General's Entry, Potterrow, - October? 1791
My Dear Sir,
I accordingly wrote my husband in October 1791, acquainting him with
my resolution of forgetting past differences, and throwing myself on his
protection.
Agnes MacLehose
The following letter is one of the few from Agnes to survive since the one
dated 8th March 1788. After Burns death, like Ainslie and many others, she
asked for the return of her letters, but denied destroying any of them.
In October 1791 Robert and Jean, their three sons, Robert, Francis Wallace,
William Nicol and Burns' daughter to Elizabeth Paton, Dear Bought Bess,
were preparing to quit Ellisland and move to Dumfries, a small
prosperous country town. In the wars with England Dumfries was of
strategic importance. This flit they did on 11th November to the middle
floor flat of a tenement in the Wee Vennel (aka Cavart's Vennel). Burns
was becoming upwardly mobile by moving into this middle sized, middle
class town.
cJune 1790 Burns had had a relationship with Anna Park, a barmaid at the
Globe Tavern in Dumfries, and result of this was Elizabeth Park Burns
who was born on 31st March 1791. The baby did not immediately move
into Dumfries with the rest of the children, as she was being looked after
at Mossgiel by Burns' mother, but apparently was taken there during 1792.
How Agnes got hold of his new address so quickly is unknown. Maybe
Robert Ainslie told her but having just settled into their new home this
letter from Agnes was the last thing that Burns wanted or expected. He
may have hoped before he opened it that it might be an improved, less
accusatory letter, but after reading the first line or so realised that this was
not going to be the outcome. Agnes was writing to tell him that Jenny
Clow was dying from Consumption and in need of his help financially.
Letter 66
221385
pre - 23rd November 1791
Agnes to Robert
Sir, I take the liberty of addressing a few lines on behalf of your old
acquaintance, Jenny Clow, who, to all appearances, is at this moment
dying. Obliged, from all the symptoms of a rapid decay, to quit her
service, she is gone to a room almost without common necessaries,
untended and unmourned. In circumstances so distressing, to whom can
she so naturally look for aid as to the father of her child, the man for
whose sake she has suffered many a sad and anxious night, shut from the
world, with no other companions than guilt and solitude
You have now an opportunity to evince you indeed possess these fine
feelings you have delineated, so as to claim the just admiration of your
country. I am convinced I need add nothing further to persuade you to act
as every consideration of humanity as well as gratitude must dictate. I am,
Sir, your sincere well-wisher,
A.M.
In one of Agnes' earlier missing letters of 1791 she must have informed
Burns that she was going to Jamaica at the request of her husband as he
refers to the voyage in his reply to the Jenny Clow letter. Burns would
probably have realised that this could be the last chance he might ever
have of seeing Agnes again, so her letter was quite opportune for him to
kill two birds with the one stone.
He took a week's leave from the Excise and left for Edinburgh on Tuesday
29th November, lodging at the White Hart Inn in the Grassmarket. As soon
as he could on his arrival, he went to see Jenny Clow and gave her some
money. Burns' son was three years old by this time and, although he knew
that Jenny's illness was terminal, he did not go for custody of the boy.
Maybe the boy was not with Jenny, maybe he was being looked after by
her family, he probably thought that it was best to leave him where he was
and not cause any more upheaval in the child's life. Burns would willingly
and happily have taken charge of the boy, but Jenny may again have
refused him, thus all the circumstances made that unlikely.
Whether he saw Agnes on one or more occasions while in Edinburgh is
not known, but he did see her on the 6th December 1791, (their eighteenth
meeting), and although they would occasionally correspond, they would
never meet again, their place in literary history now assured. The letter is a
bit strange, it moves very quickly into speaking of Agnes in the third
person.
223169
Letter 67
Dumfries - 23 November 1791
Robert to Agnes
It is extremely difficult, my dear Madam, for me to deny a lady anything;
but to a lady whom I regard with all the endearing epithets of respectful
esteem and old friendship, how shall I find the language of refusal? I have,
indeed, a shade of the lady, which I keep, and shall ever keep in the
sanctum sanctorum of my most anxious care. That lady, though an
unfortunate and irresistible conjuncture of circumstances has lost me her
esteem, yet she shall be ever, to me
Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.
I am rather anxious for her sake, as to her voyage (Jamaica). I pray God
my fears may be groundless. By the way, I have this moment a letter from
her, with a paragraph or two conceived in so stately a style, that I would
not pardon it in any created being except herself; but, as the subject
interests me much, I shall answer it to you, as I do not know her present
address. I am sure she must have told you of a girl, a Jenny Clow, who had
the misfortune to make me a father, with contrition I own it, contrary to
the laws of our most excellent constitution, in our holy Presbyterian
hierarchy.
Mrs M.(McIlhose) tells me a tale of the poor girl's distress that makes my
very heart weep blood. I will trust that your goodness will apologise to
your delicacy for me, when I beg of you, for Heaven's sake, to send a
porter to the poor woman - Mrs. M., it seems, knows where she is to be
found - with five shillings in my name; and, as I shall be in Edinburgh on
Tuesday first, for certain, make the poor wench leave a line for me, before
Tuesday, at Mr Mackay's, White Hart Inn, Grassmarket, where I shall put
up: and, before I am two hours in town, I shall see the poor girl, and try
what is to be done for her relief. I would have taken my boy from her long
ago, but she would never consent.
I shall do myself the very great pleasure to call for you when I come to
town and repay you the sum your goodness shall have advanced (several
lines have been cut from the original manuscript).
and most obedient,
Robert Burns
EIGHTEENTH MEETING -Tuesday 6th December 1791
Burns and Agnes met for the last time on Tuesday the 6th December 1791
and they parted as friends, each with a lock of the other's hair, the nearest
thing to intimacy between them all evening. In 1794 Burns wrote a poem
describing this meeting, and the first verse, as far as I am concerned, is as
222307
lovely and heartfelt as any line in his more famous, 'Ae Fond Kiss'.
O May, thy morn was ne'er sae sweet
As the mirk night o' December,
For sparkling was the rosy wine,
And private was the chamber;
And dear was she I darena name,
But I will aye remember.
Burns has left us an image, the briefest description, the first brush strokes
on the canvas of a painting in the making - 'For sparkling was the rosy wine
and private was the chamber' - the rest he leaves to our imagination. It was
four years to day since first they met at Miss Nimmo's well attended soiree
on Tuesday 4th December 1787.
When Burns met with Agnes that evening did he realise that it was the
date (6th December) that he was supposed to have supped with her four
years previously? He had had to cancel then, and this night she was
quitting him, for good. On reflection, he probably did, it wouldn't be like
Agnes not to pull that one out of the hat. So much water had flowed under
so many bridges - some he burned, so many he damaged, with a few he
left standing, just. His knee twinged at the memory, but at least he turned
up this time.
Agnes felt she had done well throughout the evening. In fact, it was quite
pleasant - more mature and less frenetic, they had both grown up - had
had to grow up. She still loved Burns, that would never die, but that had
to be put to the back of her heart and mind. She would do her best to make
her marriage work, even if it was to be thousands of miles away from
everyone she cared for and would miss. A decade plus away from James
MacLehose, he must have changed in that time, mustn't he? Captain
Liddel thought so.
The time for parting came, and it was wordless. They looked at each other,
they saw, and they remembered. Their hands reached out across the
silence and with all the love that was in his soul at that moment, Burns
kissed her gently on the cheek and left the warm, inviting little room.
Agnes crossed to her window and waited for Burns to appear at the
opening of the close mouth. She saw him huddle into his heavy coat and
pull his hat hard down over his head. After a few steps he stopped and
turned and raised his eyes towards her window, even in the darkness his
eyes glowed, drawing her in.
223281
She didn't feel the tears on her cheeks, but in that moment, time stood still
for each, and all that might have been passed through them in an instant
and they both realised what was lost. With a nod, Robert Burns turned and
slowly walked back to his lodgings.
Agnes watched until his form was enveloped by the darkness and kept
watch until the darkness evened itself out, leaving no trace of him in shape
or shade. They had parted, if not as true friends, at least as two people
who had shared a seismic experience and had come out the other end,
bruised, scorched, forever connected but still here.
It would be unlikely that Burns would have headed home late on Tuesday
the 6th December. It being the middle of winter the road would have been
a dangerous one to travel in the dark. It is more likely he left on
Wednesday 7th and again because of the cold winter weather, and the
hundred-mile trek, he would have been forced to stay overnight in a
suitable Inn or Hostelry. He rested at Leadhills from where he wrote to
Agnes, enclosing a poem he had written about a year and a half previously
and sent to Mrs. Dunlop. Enclosed with It was a very short note, probably
written just before he left the hostelry to head home to Dumfries.
Letter 68
Leadhills, Thursday, Noon,
(written 8 December 1791, 11 December 1791 - Bishop's Mark)
Robert to Agnes/Clarinda
The Lament of Mary Queen of Scots
Such, my dearest Clarinda, were the words of the amiable but
unfortunate Mary. -Misfortune seems to take a particular pleasure in
darting her arrows against 'Honest Men and bony Lasses'. Of this You are
too, too just a proof; but may your future fate be a bright exception to the
remark. -In the words of Hamlet
Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me!
Robt Burns
Burns could not get the idea of Agnes' leaving him and Scotland out of his
head, and it brought up memories, words and feelings that he could not
escape from. Where he walked, where he rode, where he lived, the
thought of her never left him, for a poet the pain of her parting was
exquisite torture and every spare moment was spent in how to express
these feelings.
222329
AGNES AND
JAMAICA
Pre-Jamaica...Jamaican Journey...Home Forever
Death of Robert Burns
224203
PRE-JAMAICA
For Agnes there was no exquisite torture in her thoughts, just questions
that what she was doing was right. She was nearly thirty-four and had
buried three out of four of her children. In the decade since she had left
Glasgow she had settled herself into Edinburgh Society, but events made
her question if she completely fitted in. She realised that after Burns had
left Edinburgh in 1788, many people she viewed as friends showed their
true colours following that melodrama, and she never trusted them again.
But then again, the very few she did trust, she would miss with a
vengeance.
Jamaica probably would not work, if she was brutally honest, but she
needed to try and mend the past. It was as good a place as any for second
chances, and as her ticket was paid for, and it was for an honourable
reason - then why not. Her first solo adventure was by coach to Edinburgh
when she was fifteen, her second was moving to Edinburgh. This third
adventure, coming out of the blue might prove to be another life changing
event. The only fly in the ointment then, and would possibly be again, was
James MacLehose. Even then, if it didn't work out she could always blame
MacLehose and hop the first boat home. Still it needed to be thought
through and she had to accept all the losses that came from her decision.
Having read a bit about Jamaica and Kingston, Agnes realised that it was
coming up to its founding centenary date in 1792, one hundred years after
Port Royal, the previous commercial centre (albeit piratical), had been
devastated by an earthquake in 1692. It had been set up by the survivors of
that earthquake and had become the new commercial centre of the
country, with about 3000 brick-built buildings erected by the end of the
18th century. So, it was by no means a backwater area. With about a third
of the populace in charge being Scottish, she thought she might settle in.
Burns after his return to Dumfries wrote Agnes to, none of which she
appeared to have answered. The following letter of Thursday 15th
December was his sixth, nearly one a day since the Leadhills letter.
Something was stirring deep inside Burns once more. But this time Agnes
was not taking the bait. He informed her that he had sent her lock of hair
to a jeweller to be made into a ring. In July 1790 Robert had sent a copy of
his poem 'Sensibility' to Mrs. Dunlop, and in his letter, he sent an amended
version to Agnes telling her about its intended entry in the next Scots
Musical Museum Volume (4th). He said he would write to her the next day,
222441
no letter has been found yet, but that does not mean that he did not send
one, just that it and probably a few more, from both he, and probably she,
are missing.
Letter 69
Dumfries - 15 December 1791
Robert to Agnes/Clarinda
I have some merit, my ever dearest of women, in attracting and securing
the heart of Clarinda. -In her I met the most accomplished of all women-
kind, the first of all God's works, & yet I, even I, had the good fortune to
appear amiable in her sight.
By the bye, this is the sixth letter that I have written to you, since I left
you; & if you were an ordinary being, as you are a creature very
extraordinary, an instance of what God Almighty in the plentitude of his
power & the fullness of his goodness, can make! I would never forgive you
for not answering my letters.
I have sent in your hair, a part of the parcel you gave me, with a measure,
to Mr. Bruce the Jeweller in Prince's Street, to get a ring done for me. -I
have likewise sent in the verses on Sensibility, altered to -
Sensibility how charming
Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell - &c.,
in to the Editor of the Scots Songs (Scots Musical Museum), of which you
have three volumes, to set to a most beautiful air, out of compliment to the
first of women, my ever beloved, my ever- sacred Clarinda.
I shall probably write to you tomorrow. -In the meantime, from a man
who is literally drunk, accept & forgive!!!
R.B.
In December Agnes was in Glasgow, possibly seeing relatives before
Christmas, maybe even her niece, Margaret, now 19. She took time to visit
the MacLehose family to let them know that she was going to Jamaica to
try and reconcile with their son - who had not written to any of them for
three years. She then wrote to MacLehose telling him of the meeting.
Glasgow had changed since she left, but its heart was still the same. Her
George Square dream home was now a reality for someone else. She made
sure when there to catch up with old friends, who were shocked and
saddened to hear of her decision to return to MacLehose, but that was
Agnes for you! Her head and her heart were always changing places. She
had an abundance of hope swirling around in her soul, and it usually
spilled over at the wrong times, hurling her head long into a sea of trouble.
224225
General's Entry, Potterrow, - December? 1791
(In her letter, after telling MacLehose of the arrangements made for Andrew, he
was boarded out at Doctor Chapman's Boarding School, Agnes carried on with
her news from Glasgow)
…I had occasion to be in Glasgow lately for two days only. I called for
your mother. I felt much for her, bereaved of so many children. The
peculiar circumstances which attended poor Annie's death affected me
excessively. They told me you had not written these three years past, but I
assured them (and I hope it is the case) that your letters must have
miscarried, as I could not believe you capable of such unkind neglect. I am
certain, inclination, no less than duty, must ever prompt you to pay
attention to your mother. She has met with many and sore afflictions; and I
feel for her the most-sincere sympathy......I have met with much kindness
since I came to Edinburgh, from a set of most agreeable and respectable
friends. No ideas of wealth or splendour could compensate for the pain I
shall feel from bidding them adieu. Nothing could support me but the
fond reliance I have of gaining your affections and confidence. To possess
these is the dearest wish of my heart; and I trust the Almighty will grant
this my ardent desire - I would fain hope to hear from you ere we sail; a
kind letter from you would prove a balm to my soul during the anxieties
of a tedious voyage.
There is nothing to show that MacLehose ever sent the 'kind letter'
suggested by Agnes.
While waiting for the never arriving letter from her husband, during
December Agnes kept herself busy by paying calls to her friends in
Edinburgh, making several visits of farewell at a time. Much as her friends
liked and respected her, they were getting a bit tired of the continual
dialogue about 'should I go - should I stay?' 'Go! Please!' many of them
shouted in their heads, 'just give us a rest'. She checked out boarding
schools for Andrew and in all weathers trod the streets. Keeping her body
busy meant keeping her mind busy and the thoughts niggling away at her
brain were kept to a minimum. She wrote letters - very similar in content
to what she was saying to those she could corral face to face.
She was not short of correspondence from the south of the country as
Burns once again wrote to her, in reply, enclosing three beautiful poem-
songs dedicated to the parting. Where he got the time to give over to this
poetry is anyone's guess as he had been kept busy with his Excise work.
From a letter sent to Mrs. Dunlop from Dumfries on 14th January 1792 he
wrote 'You will scarce think it credible when I tell you, Dear Madam, that ever
222463
since I wrote you last (17th December) I have actually not had time to write you
again. -Leaving my former habitation, settling here and getting deeply engaged in
a line of our business to which I was an entire Stranger; not to mention hunting
for Smugglers once or twice every week, & a ten-day jaunt into Edinburgh; these
have so entirely engrossed my time & attention, that, except letters of
indispensable business, I have not put pen to paper on any given subject since you
heard from me.'
Maybe not one hundred percent true regarding writing, but as for the
Excise business, quite believable. Agnes had written to him, another letter
now lost, and he, replying to this within ten minutes, fired off a reply
which, of necessity, was short. As for the ten days, well that was 27th
November to the 7th December. Maybe he was making excuses to Mrs.
Dunlop. His next letter to Agnes is dated 27th December.
Letter 70
Dumfries - 27 December 1791
Robert to Agnes
I have yours, my ever-dearest Madam, this moment. -I have just ten
minutes before the Post goes & these I shall employ in sending you some
Songs I have just been composing to different tunes for the Collection of
Songs, of which you have three volumes - & of which you shall have the
fourth.
Song - Tune, Rory Dall's port -
Ae fond kiss, & then we sever;
Song - To an old Scots tune -
Behold the hour, the boat arrive!
Song, to a charming plaintive Scots air -
Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December!
The rest of this song is on the wheels.
Adieu! Adieu!!!
1792
The nearer the date for the ship to sale came, the more uptight and
stressed Agnes became. In her heart she felt guilty in hoping that
something would happen to stop her from leaving - maybe another
earthquake! But she could not wish that on any innocent people. Yellow
Fever in Leith might be a possibility though. She wandered, physically and
mentally, she was torn, confused, scared - she did not want to go.
224247
Apparently, she wrote to Burns but was not sure if she posted it - or even
if she had written it at all, that was how much she was confused. Finally,
she wrote to him on his birthday, Wednesday 25th, and not a mention did
she make of that event. Agnes was back to her God bothering and
blethering best. Sometime in January, before the 25th, Burns had written to
Agnes telling her that when he was booked for going to Jamaica, six years
before, that he was to be carried there on the very same ship she was
taking, The Roselle. In fact, he had been named on about three ships as he
kept changing his mind, and I am sure if he searched his old coats he
might still find the ticket, waiting.
Letter
Edinburgh - 21 January 1792
Agnes to Robert
May not have been posted, see following letter
Letter 71
Edinburgh - 25 January 1792
Agnes to Robert
Mr. Robert Burns of the Excise,
Dumfries.
Agitated, hurried to death, I sit down to write a few lines to you, my
dear, dear friend! We are ordered aboard on Saturday (28th), -to sail on
Sunday. And now, my dearest Sir, I have a few things to say to you, as the
last advice of her, who could have lived or died with you! I am happy to
know of your applying so steadily to the business you have engaged in;
but, oh remember, this life is a short, passing scene! Seek God's favour, -
keep His Commandments, - be solicitous to prepare for a happy eternity!
There, I trust, we will meet, in perfect and never-ending bliss. Read my
former letters attentively: let the religious tenets there expressed sink deep
into your mind; meditate on them with candour, and your accurate
judgement must be convinced that they accord with the words of Eternal
Truth! Laugh no more at the holy things, or holy men: remember, 'without
holiness, no man shall see God'. Another thing, and I have done; as you
value my peace, do not write me to Jamaica, until I let you know you may
with safety. Write Mary often. She feels for you! and judges of your
present feelings by her own. I am sure you will be happy to hear of my
happiness: and I trust you will - soon. If there is time, you may drop me a
line ere I go, to inform me if you get this, and another letter I wrote you,
dated 21st, which I am afraid of having been neglected put into the office.
So, it was the Roselle you were to have gone in! I read your letter to-day
and reflected deeply on the ways of Heaven! To us they oft appear dark
222485
and doubtful, but let us do our duty faithfully, and sooner or later we will
have our reward, because 'the Lord God Omnipotent reigns'. Every
upright mind has here cause to rejoice. And now, adieu. May Almighty
God bless you and yours! take you into His blessed favour here, and
afterwards receive you into His glory!
Farewell. I will ever, ever remain
Your real friend
A.M.
January/February 1792
Agnes didn't leave from Leith on the 29th January, but a few days later in
early February 1792. She reached Kingston, Jamaica, normally a six-week
journey, sometime cApril. According to her grandson W.C. MacLehose in
his 1843 edition of 'The Letters', the day before the ship left Agnes received
a letter from James MacLehose advising her against taking the journey
because of an outbreak of Yellow Fever and uprisings in the colony.
Her grandson said that MacLehose had lied to Agnes, but that is not
totally true. Yellow Fever was always a fear in the Caribbean, and there
were many outbreaks in the 1790s, though not necessarily at the beginning
of 1792. But there certainly was a threat of a *slave uprising, which had
spread from the French colony of St Domingue to Jamaica where Martial
law had been declared on 10th December 1791. The tension lasted until
March 1792.
*(Kingston, writer unknown, 'the slaves are so different a people from what
they were...I am convinced the Ideas of Liberty have sunk so deep in the minds of
all negroes that whenever the greater precautions are not taken, they will rise.')
Here was Agnes’ get out, why she didn't take it is baffling? She had been
granted a last-minute reprieve and she ignored it. Somewhere in her there
must have been a masochistic streak, or more likely a thrawn one. She
didn't believe the letter, so was she calling his bluff? Maybe it was her
pride, it would look like he was rejecting her at the last minute - poor
Nancy, neither Robert Burns nor her husband wanted her, is that what she
thought people would think? She would not be pitied!
Personally, I prefer to think that the wild child in Agnes burst to the fore
on occasions when exciting things could happen, and yelled to the
Universe, 'why not give it a go, and see what happens! Anyway, the ticket
is paid for and it would be a shame to waste it'. No matter the outcome,
she would go to Jamaica and damn the consequences. And she did!
224269
JAMAICAN JOURNEY
The voyage was not a good one for her, and although there were many
ladies on their own travelling out to meet with husbands and other
relatives, it was not a happy journey. Agnes suffered from sea sickness and
fear because the weather and sea were very stormy. She thought the ship
might sink, and the closer the ship neared the equator the hotter and more
humid the temperature became. Coming from cold Scotland and a windy
Edinburgh, she was not used to this heat and found it to be extremely
uncomfortable. In her cabin/berth she could loosen her whale bone corset
and let her skin breathe, or to be more exact - leak. But the intense heat and
the smell below was not a very nice experience.
On board the ship, which was also a cargo ship, there was nothing to do
except sit, write, sleep, converse and complain. Even taking a stroll on
deck could prove to be dangerous, as far as the sailors were concerned
passengers were a necessary evil who got under their feet. In the distance
the travellers saw other ships, and they cheered up whenever they saw an
island or any land at all. But all in all, one day was like another, the sun
rose and fell, the sea rose and fell, and the temperature rose and rose and
rose and occasionally fell.
Being aware of the slave trade, Agnes wondered, whenever she saw a ship
in the distance if it was carrying human cargo or not. Slavery had been
declared illegal in Scotland in the 1780s and anyone who brought a slave
back to Scotland would automatically see their slave made a free person as
soon as they set foot on Scottish soil, without need of access to the Law.
She knew Jamaica would be very different. She had heard stories from
people who had returned from that colony, some even sent the children
that they had fathered by Jamaican women, some they married some they
didn't, back to Scotland to ensure that they received a good education.
April 1792-June 1792
Finally, Agnes disembarked from the ship at Kingston Harbour, coming
up to its 100th anniversary, for her first taste of Kingston life. Her luggage
was taken down the gang plank, and she sat beside it, awaiting her
husband's arrival. The heat was oppressive, but she stayed there and
watched as her fellow travellers were all collected by their relatives until
only she was left. Her humiliation was palpable. She stuck out like a sore
thumb for all the passers-by to see and see again on their return journey.
223407
Not so much pale and interesting as scarlet and sweaty. Captain Liddel
tried to be kind to her, and she appreciated it, but she was not his problem.
Finally, after some hours MacLehose arrived to collect his belonging.
Maybe Captain Liddel had sent someone to tell him that Agnes was there
waiting for him. MacLehose may not have been expecting her to turn up as
he had sent her the letter telling her not to come, and as far as he was
concerned that was the end of the matter. Whatever the reason for the
delay in MacLehose's turning up, he was not in the best of moods and was
well under the influence.
He let fly at Agnes for being so stupid as to ignore his letter, could she not
read - this was a dangerous and unhealthy place and if anything happened
to her it was on her own head. The more he ranted the redder he became -
apoplectic. The more he ranted the more he spat - and she watched that
spit drop and dry on to his coat. The more he ranted the more his ravings
became unintelligible - and him a lawyer too! All this verbal lunacy was
done in the presence of Captain Liddel, who before had seen a man willing
to do anything to save his failed marriage. He watched Agnes trying to
speak but was bombarded with so many accusations and insults that she
gave up.
At last, having run out of spit and words, MacLehose accepted that he was
now responsible for his wife and had her luggage put on to a cart driven
by one of his slaves, and both luggage and wife were transported to his
very large house in *Kingston Gardens, complete with plantation, a little
way outside Kingston to the south. MacLehose may have returned to his
chambers in Duke Street, leaving Agnes to fend for herself. Before quitting
the dock, Agnes apologised to Captain Liddel for his having to witness
this scene. Captain Liddel apologised to Agnes for having encouraged her
to make the journey to her husband, as he did not realise what an actual
bad man he was. Agnes was to write later 'As my constitution never agreed
with the heat, I felt its bad affect as soon as we had crossed the line, but the very
cold reception I received from Mr. M'Lehose on landing, gave me a shock which,
joined to the climate, deranged my mind to such a degree as made me not
answerable for what I either said or did.'
*(Kingston Gardens is now a modern residential district with nearly 1500
inhabitants).
On arriving at the MacLehose residence, Agnes received another shock.
MacLehose had a mistress, Ann Chalon Rivvere/Riviere. Ann was not a
slave but was a mixed race, highly educated woman thought fitting to be
224381
the partner of an important person such as James MacLehose and capable
of taking charge of his household and plantation business when he was
otherwise occupied at the courts or incapable through drink. It was usual
for the white male plantation owner or overseer to have sexual relation
with his slaves, consensual or not, male or female, so how many children
MacLehose fathered is unknown, but he did have one recorded daughter
to Ann - Ann Lavinia MacLehose, born 17th September 1794.
Ann resented Agnes, as she could affect the power Ann held over the
household. Agnes also resented and feared Ann, because she knew that no
matter how hard she tried with MacLehose there would never be any
reconciliation and now knew she did not want it anyway.
Had Agnes known about Ann, it may have changed her mind about
leaving Scotland. But why MacLehose wanted her out there with him is
inexplicable. It may have fed the liar in his nature, but it also cost him a lot
of money, maybe the price for revenge was worth paying, and he could
afford it.
From the day of her arrival in Kingston she planned her return to
Scotland. MacLehose had not and would not change, here he was what he
had always wanted to be, master of all he surveyed, and very rich. He
could treat his slaves how he chose, and that included Ann, and he did. In
drink he beat them, in sobriety he beat them, in anger he beat them, for
something to do he beat them. He wanted to beat Agnes, but he held back,
and his violence remained verbal towards her. *On occasions when he
started on one of the servants, Agnes stepped in before it got out of hand,
but when MacLehose crossed the line of control, no one was safe. Agnes
counted the days until her return home to safety and sanity - and a cooler
temperature.
*'The ebullition of temper which he had exhibited towards her on their first
meeting, was a prelude to more violent outbreaks, which, though not always
directed to her personally, paralyzed her with fear. His slaves were generally the
objects of these fits of wrath; and seeing that his wife pitied their abject condition,
he took pleasure in threatening and abusing them in her presence.' (Memoire by
her grandson, W. C. MacLehose, 1843).
Agnes had her uses like so many other white wives - they gave their
husbands an air of respectability, but what they really gave them was the
cover and protection to behave in the most monstrous of ways towards
people who were considered goods, and as such these women were
complicit in the brutality visited upon those people. There were many
223429
gatherings of the great and good while Agnes was in Jamaica, and she
attended as was her duty, but she saw in the dead eyes of many of the
wives the look of someone who has lost her worth, a walking object of no
real use to anyone. Agnes knew that she would not become one of these
walking ghosts, these whitened sepulchres, and marked the days on her
calendar until it was her time to go home - home forever.
MacLehose realised that Agnes wanted to return to Scotland, and he was
in full agreement with that. He would be glad to see the back of her, no
more of her preaching or praying or nervous disorders. There were times
she would not come out of her room, he could live with that. She may
have had a breakdown, or she may have just led the doctor to believe she
was suffering under the strain of one in order that he would recommend
her repatriation to her husband.
She wrote 'My husband's after-kindness could not remove the complication of
nervous disorders which seized me. They increased to such a height that Dr. Fife,
the professional gentleman who attended me, and whose soothing manner I can
never forget, was of opinion my going home was absolutely necessary - otherwise
my reason if not my life, would fall a sacrifice. Accordingly, in June I took leave of
Mr. MacLehose, and returned home in the ship I had gone out in. Our parting
was most affectionate. On my part, it was with sincere regret that my health
obliged me to leave him. Upon his, it was all appearances equally so. However, we
parted with mutual promises of constancy, and of keeping up a regular
correspondence. After getting in cool air, I gradually recovered in my health........'
Probably Agnes' health improved the moment the ship hauled anchor and
cast off from the quay at Kingston. With every foot of water separating her
from her boor of a husband each nerve end breathed a sigh of relief and
retracted its hackles. Did she stay on deck at the stern of the ship watching
Jamaica disappear, or did she move to the bow and face her future coming
towards her. Her Jamaican adventure had turned out to be her worst
nightmare, as she was to write in 1814 'Recollect that I arrived in Jamaica this
day twenty-two years. What I suffered during the three months I remained there!
Lord make me grateful for thy goodness in bringing me back to my native
country.'
A life of drink and debauchery did not hold MacLehose back from
climbing up the greasy pole, in fact it seemed to propel him speedily on
his way, he was one of the boys and as corruption, like today, was rife, he
drank deeply from its trough. From being listed in the Institute of Jamaica
Records as being an attorney at law in 1787 he went on to become Deputy
225303
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