The McLehose Bible and the Clarinda Connection

                                    

I've finally decided to sell this fascinating Old Testament, with its connection to Robert Burns and his 'Clarinda'. It will be in Thomson, Roddick and Callan's next Fine Art and Antiques sale on 20th November. Here is its story: 

I bought this beautiful little book, with its traditional Scottish ‘herringbone’ binding, some twenty years ago. At the time, I was in the process of researching the life of Robert Burns, initially for a commissioned BBC radio play, but then for my novel about his wife, Jean Armour, the Jewel, which was eventually published by Saraband in 2016, along with a companion volume of Burns’s poems and songs written for Jean herself.

Who was Elizabeth?

With the bible, came an accompanying letter: 
25th December 1925
The enclosed Vol 1 of Bible belonged to my great grandmother Mrs Elizabeth McLehose or Graham and contains the names and dates of birth of her children except Lilias the youngest. It was given to me by my cousin Mrs Jane Hamilton or Patterson, Acton Hill, Stafford, who states she found it among Aunt Kate’s effects after her death. It probably got into Aunt Kate’s hands through her mother Elizabeth Graham or Hamilton, a daughter of Elizabeth McLehose.
James Graham.

For the genealogists among you, the inscriptions in the bible, front and back, are as follows (just as she wrote them herself.) 
Elizebath (sic) McLehose her bible June 30th 1779
John Graham and Elizebath McLehose was married the 26th of Aprill 1779 by Mr Furlong Minister in the Chapel of Ease Glasgow.
Helen was born the 18th day of April at 5 oClock Afternoon 1780
John Graham was born 27th of August at one oClock Afternoon 1781
James was born 5th May at nine oClock Afternoon 1783
William was born the 26th of Febry at one oClock Morning 1785
Patrick was born 26th August at two oClock Forenoon 1786
Kathrine was born the 5th of May at two oClock Forenoon 1788
Elizebath was born Nov 25 at one oClock Forenoon 1789
Marrion was born June 27th at two oClock Forenoon 1793
Adam was born the 28th of January at six oClock Forenoon 1795
Lilias born 1801 - (in a different hand.)

Elizabeth, (or Elizebath as she spelled her name) may have had two of these books – an Old and a New Testament, but it’s possible that she took the New Testament – which hasn’t survived - to the kirk, more often, whereas this Old Testament might have stayed at home, and would have been where she kept a record of her growing family. All the same, it still has its own soft leather case.

Elizabeth McLehose, born in 1753, married John Graham of Kittochside, East Kilbride, in 1779. Wester Kittochside is where the Scottish National Museum of Rural Life is now based, although I think this would have been an adjacent farm. John was a wealthy farmer, as testified by this book (possibly a gift on the occasion of the marriage) – a rare and expensive item, then as now.

 A Burns Connection?

I instantly wondered if there was any connection between Elizabeth McLehose and James McLehose, husband of Agnes Craig, Robert Burns’s Nancy, or ‘Clarinda’ as he called her in his many letters. 

A certain amount of research, with some help from a descendent, Judy Philip, in Australia, revealed that this was indeed the case. They were first cousins, of similar age, and would almost certainly have known each other, especially given the somewhat scandalous tale of Nancy, her unsatisfactory husband, and the celebrity poet.

Nancy

Agnes ‘Nancy’ Craig was born in Glasgow in 1758, the daughter of a prominent surgeon, Andrew Craig. Her mother was Christian McLaurin who died in childbirth in 1767, leaving a young family in the care of their father. Nancy was a sickly child, but grew into an exceptionally pretty and accomplished young woman.

Nancy’s husband, James McLehose, was a lawyer. As a suitor, he was not at all welcomed by Nancy’s father, but he persisted in his courtship, and the couple seem to have met in secret. One of his expedients was to buy all the seats on a coach between Glasgow and Edinburgh, when Nancy was travelling, and then to woo her throughout the long journey. It’s hard to believe that Nancy herself didn’t know about and acquiesce in this ruse.

They married on 1st July 1776 when Nancy was eighteen and she gave birth to four children in four years, the first of whom died in infancy. The marriage was not a happy one, and there are stories of drunkenness and cruelty. Shortly before the birth of her fourth child, late in 1780, Nancy left her husband and returned to her family home in Glasgow’s Saltmarket, citing his cruelty. James spent some time in a debtor’s prison, then managed to take custody of their surviving children, but soon returned them to her. In 1782, he tried to persuade her to emigrate to Jamaica with him, where his Uncle John was a plantation owner. Nancy refused.

Her father, meanwhile, had died in that same year, having lost most of his money, and Nancy moved to Edinburgh, to a flat off Potterrow. She was supported by small charitable contributions from wealthy relatives and was very much reliant on their good will.

'Sylvander and Clarinda'

Nancy was intelligent and well educated. She wrote poetry and instigated the first meeting with Burns, at a tea party in a friend’s house, in December 1787. He was good looking and charming, and she was instantly attracted to him and he to her. She invited him to visit her at home, but he had injured his knee in a fall from a coach and was confined to his lodgings, so the relationship developed by means of an increasingly intense and flirtatious correspondence, in the course of which, romantic Nancy suggested that they call each other Sylvander and Clarinda, to maintain a certain anonymity. This was a reference to the fashionable fantasy of the classical 'pastoral' life of the shepherd and shepherdess, living in Arcadia, although the poet would have been well aware of the grim realities. Nevertheless, he was happy to indulge Nancy, and had occasionally drawn on this myth himself, in order to be taken seriously by the Edinburgh 'literati'. What else was a farmer poet to do? 

By the end of January, they had met six times. She would certainly have been vulnerable to the advances of this devastatingly attractive man, a celebrity in the city, lionised as an eighteenth century superstar, but she was also a married woman, and afraid of scandal.

She was twenty nine when they met and had been separated from her husband for seven years. It’s doubtful if the ‘affair’ ever amounted to more than a kiss and a cuddle alongside a very overheated  correspondence. Bear in mind that letters could be sent and received on the same day in the city. Nancy resisted any real physical intimacy (as poor Jean Armour clearly could not!) while the poet indulged in his usual self dramatisation and a number of lavish attempts to persuade her into bed, both poetic and actual. 

‘I am at this moment ready to hang myself for a young Edinburgh Widow, who has wit and beauty more murderously fatal than the assassinating stiletto of the Sicilian banditti,’ he wrote to a friend. Of course Nancy was not a widow, as she persisted in reminding him. The relationship resulted in one of the most beautiful songs of lost love ever written, in Ae Fond Kiss, although we should remember that he wrote Red Red Rose for Jean Armour, an equally beautiful celebration of lifelong married love. 

In February 1788, Burns wrote to Nancy from Mossgiel near Mauchline, in very disparaging terms about Jean, followed by a reference on 2nd March 1788 to his proposed farm at Ellisland being only a day and a half ride from Edinburgh, clearly planning future meetings – although it’s hard not to see this as more fantasy.

The following day, on 3rd March, Jean gave birth prematurely to his second set of twins, one of whom died on 10th and the other on 23rd March. By 12th March, Burns had returned to Edinburgh on publishing business, and there were a few more love letters to Nancy, albeit less passionate than previously. He seems to have been feeling guilty. 

The Aftermath

Some six weeks later, the poet and Jean were officially married, possibly in Gavin Hamilton’s house, in Mauchline. There is some evidence that they had never not been married, since they had agreed to marry a couple of years earlier, a binding contract under Scots law, but Jean's parents had objected, strenuously. In a letter to his friend James Smith, dated 28th April 1788, Burns is writing happily about his marriage to Jean and his intention of buying her a printed shawl. The marriage wasn’t officially acknowledged in the Mauchline kirk until August of 1788, probably on the insistence of the minister, the Reverend Mr Auld.

Burns left it to his friend Ainslie to give Nancy the bad news.

Her subsequent response to him has not survived, but in his reply, dated a whole year after his letter disparaging Jean, he points out that he has behaved pretty well in the circumstances and refers to Nancy’s accusation of ‘perfidious treachery’! Nevertheless, the correspondence with Nancy continued, intermittently, although by December 1791 Burns is pointing out that he has sent Nancy six letters to which she has not responded – although perhaps she had set off for Jamaica by that time.

In 1791, Nancy sailed for Jamaica in a misguided attempt to reunite with her husband. She arrived to find that Elizabeth’s cousin, James McLehose, was living with a local woman, Ann Challon Rivere, who had given birth to his daughter. With admirable strength of character, she turned around and sailed back to Edinburgh on the same ship.

It’s clear that Jean was aware of her husband’s correspondence and tolerated it, although the ‘disappearance’ of some letters that the poet mentions, sent via Nancy’s friend Mary Peacock, and one about Nancy’s health, sent to the poet from Mary herself, may be connected with Jean’s loss of patience as she coped with a difficult domestic situation. The two women even met, after the death of the poet, a scene which I imagined in The Jewel. I think Nancy's affection was genuine.

What the owner of this little bible thought of her errant cousin, his wife and her association with the greatest poet Scotland has ever known, is a matter for speculation. It’s hard not to imagine that it must have been hotly debated at Kittochside, although perhaps not within earshot of the children. One wonders if – when James briefly took custody of his and Nancy’s young children – he might even have left them with his cousin Elizabeth and her husband for a time. 

A tenuous connection, for sure, but a fascinating one, this beautiful book and its inscriptions are a  gateway to a more widely known tale of love and loss and the creation of one of the finest love songs the world has ever known. 

'I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, 

Naething could resist my Nancy. 

But to see her was to love her, 

Love but her and love forever.' 

To Beta or not to Beta

A wearisome heap of old
literary magazines in which I had 'stuff'. 

It seems to have become compulsory for all writers, but especially those starting out, to enlist a 'beta reader' or two to vet early drafts and offer helpful suggestions. Theoretically, this should be OK, but is it? 

The term comes from the world of video games, where beta testers are asked to play a game in the later stages of its development, to see where there may be glitches and bugs that have somehow managed to slip through the long, expensive and complicated process of building a game. They are usually enthusiastic and experienced gamers so their opinions matter - but it's a later stage process, whether in games or software development, and I often think it's akin to the work of a good copy editor. 

Copy editing is also a late stage process and involves someone checking your manuscript, not just for grammatical glitches, but for repetitions or general imperfections. For example, something might make complete sense to you, the writer, but it may puzzle the reader. He or she will also pick up inconsistencies, and do a certain amount of fact checking. Or at least will point out to you that you need to do some fact checking yourself. A good copy editor will never tell you what to do, but may ask difficult questions. It's often done on the finished manuscript, using Track Changes (in Word) or similar, so that you can have an online conversation. All this is incredibly useful but it's a professional job, and it's not what beta readers do in the world of writing. 

I used to run a writers' group in Ayrshire. It started out as a Workers Educational Association group, but over the years, funding failed. The council took over, and when the council stopped funding it we just carried on, because by that stage, the group members had become friends. We were a disparate bunch of writers, working on everything from plays to novels, with short stories, poems and articles in between.

 As time went by, the group became a safe space - to use current jargon - where people could comfortably read out some of what they had written and gain feedback. It's the job of the group leader to impose a certain amount of control over all this, making sure that suggestions are just that - not instructions. It's nice, as a writer, to be taken seriously, and it's interesting to be asked questions about your work, because in coming up with the answers, you often make the work better. But nobody should ever feel bullied into making changes that don't feel right. 

The wrong word at the wrong time can damage tender shoots of talent, especially since people in groups sometimes feel that they have to give feedback. One of my colleagues, who later became a celebrated and well published poet, was put off writing for several years by inexplicably damning feedback from an already successful poet tutoring a writing course. 

None of which is to say that work doesn't benefit from good feedback, good editorial input. All the same, looking back on a long switchback of a career, I'm surprised to note that I've had far more bad editorial advice than good. I remember one theatre director musing that I had been much too open to his suggestions. (The question of why, perceiving that, he didn't stop giving them, is something that has puzzled me ever since.) Another editor, this time of an early novel, wrote to me to apologise about the mess she had made of my book. I've been told to delete a third of a novel by two different, allegedly competent, people. The problem was that one wanted the first third gone, while the other had problems with the last third. Both were wrong, although the book in question certainly needed work.

Time is often your friend here. If you've finished the precious first draft of your novel, can I suggest that before you hand it over to anyone else, you let it lie fallow for a while. Write something else. Resist the urge to begin editing immediately or - worse - hand your baby over to a reader or editor of any kind.

 All writers know the horror of someone asking 'what are you working on now?' We tend to fudge the answer by coming up with the most generic, least specific description possible. This is because most of us will have had the experience of pinning a project down, only for it to dissolve before our very eyes. Wait a few weeks or even months* and you'll find that when you go back to your work with a fresh eye, problems - and their solutions - will often leap out at you. Another technique is to print out at this stage, read the words on the page and even physically shuffle things about. 

In my opinion, one of the best books about the craft of writing is still a slim volume called On Writing, by Stephen King. Part memoir, part manual, it should be required reading for anyone contemplating a career as a writer, even though the industry itself has changed since he first wrote it. He advises the aspiring writer to do plenty of reading and writing. It's my belief that many writers who are starting out don't do nearly enough writing. Most of us used to have drawers full of the stuff. Now we have files on old computers or Dropbox stuffed with failed experiments. His advice to go with the story and see where it takes you is both liberating and inspirational for anyone who has ever become bogged down in the need to plot. 

To beta or not to beta - that is the question. Well, if it works for you, go with it. But don't ever forget the observation about the camel being a 'horse designed by a committee'. Not to cast aspersions on camels of course. Collaborations between creative people can work magnificently. But not always. And not without someone keeping the vision of the whole project in mind. 

That someone should be you. 

* I am currently working on a manuscript of a novel I wrote some fifty years ago. Yes, I've been writing that long and even longer. I was very young. I filed it away and forgot about it. But I kept it. It's something of an adventure. It's raw and needs a lot of work, but it's also surprising me with the freshness, the insight, the emotion it contains, before the publishing industry got its claws into me!