Celebrating Scotland’s second-greatest poet Robert Tannahill

For once, I can say that a Scottish literary figure is being rightly celebrated and the anniversary will hopefully see many more Scots recognise the genius of the weaver poet from Paisley.

Born on June 3, 1774, Tannahill is, in my opinion, second only to Robert Burns as a poet writing chiefly in the language of the working class of Scotland.

He could write beautifully in classical English, but equally so in Scots, and one of the qualities I most admire about his writing was that he was not afraid to mix English and Scots – as most of us do in our daily lives.

In a very real sense, he is OUR poet, a Scottish writer of verse who put his heart and soul into his writing about many subjects including love and loss.

Acknowledged as the top living expert on Tannahill, Fred Freeman, professor of Scots language and song at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, has recently finished the massive task of producing a five-volume CD series of the songs of Tannahill.

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He gave a lecture last month to the Royal Society of Edinburgh (RSE) in which he re-evaluated Tannahill – who is often categorised as a sentimentalist – as “a major poet who expanded the tradition of British ‘rationalist’ pastoralism”, as the RSE’s lecture description explained.

I thoroughly agree with Freeman, who on Tuesday at the superb new Paisley Central Library will give the Paisley Weaver Poet Robert Tannahill Lecture.

According to local cultural trust OneRen, organisers of the event, Freeman will explore Tannahill’s “radical people’s tradition in relation to multiculturalism in Scotland and the poet’s unique body of anti-sectarian, abolitionist and anti-war songs and poems”.

The first OneRen event of Tannahill 250 will take place tomorrow, the 250th anniversary of his birth, with an evening of song and verse at Paisley Central Library. The free event will include a new poem from Renfrewshire’s own poet laureate, the Tannahill Makar, Shaun Moore, though the event is unfortunately sold out. There will also be live musical interludes, a Q&A session with members of the Tannahill MacDonald Club and guest speakers. Please note that pre-booking is mandatory.

On Thursday, the Scottish Poetry Library in Edinburgh will host an evening of celebration of Tannahill, featuring singer John Morran of the traditional music band Deaf Shepherd.

Please book beforehand on Eventbrite, and you will also need to book for another Freeman lecture at Glasgow’s Mitchell Library on June 27 at 6pm.

I know that I usually write that I leave literary and cultural criticism to experts, but I make an exception when it comes to Tannahill on historical grounds – I just don’t think most Scots know how brilliant he was.

It’s not just me who is a fan. Professor Gerard Carruthers FRSE, Francis Hutcheson chair of Scottish literature at the University of Glasgow, said: “Robert Tannahill is one of Scotland’s greatest songwriters. Inspired by Burns certainly, he was a great lyricist of nature in his own right during the early 19th-century Romantic period, and his lyrics and tunes resound around the world down to the present day.

“Very few of us will be remembered more than 200 years after our death. Tannahill lives, educates and entertains.”

In writing before about Tannahill, I quoted extensively from his masterly song-poem The Braes O’ Balquhither, but increasingly my favourite Tannahill poem is about a different set of “Braes” altogether – the ones that overlook Paisley from Gleniffer.

Told from the point of view of a local woman whose lover has gone off to war, here is The Braes O’ Gleniffer by Tannahill:

Keen blaws the wind o’er the Braes o’ Gleniffer.

The auld castle’s turrets are cover’d wi’ snaw;

How chang’d frae the time when I met wi’ my lover

Amang the broom bushes by Stanley green shaw:

The wild flow’rs o’ simmer were spread a’ sae bonnie,

The mavis sang sweet frae the green birken tree:

But far to the camp they hae march’d my dear Johnnie,

And now it is winter wi’ nature and me.

Then ilk thing around us was blithesome and cheery,

Then ilk thing around us was bonny and braw;

Now naething is heard but the wind whistling dreary,

And naething is seen but the wide-spreading snaw.

The trees are a’ bare, and the birds mute and dowie,

They shake the cauld drift frae their wings as they flee,

And chirp out their plaints, seeming wae for my Johnnie,—

‘Tis winter wi’ them, and ‘tis Winter wi’ me.

Yon cauld sleety cloud skiffs alang the bleak mountain,

And shakes the dark firs on the stey rocky brae,

While down the deep glen bawls the snaw-flooded fountain,

That murmur’d sae sweet to my laddie and me.

‘Tis no its loud roar on the wintry wind swellin’,

‘Tis no the cauld blast brings the tears i’ my e’e,

For, O gin I saw but my bonny Scotch callan,

The dark days o’ winter were simmer to me!

I trust you see what I mean about his way with words … and when you know the history behind the works of Tannahill, I am sure you will conclude that he really is worth investigating.

Next week, I will write about Tannahill’s life and tragic early end at his own hand, and show how he gained more fame after his life than during it.

Tannahill still does not get the praise and credit he should be given.