I landed just in time to hear the grace being said:
Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.
Said with his quaint Scottish lilt, it almost sounded like a song.
It was Burns Day and Edinburgh was ready to pay tribute to the Bard of Ayrshire. Robert Burns was born on January 25, 1759. He was also known as Rabbie Burns or Ploughman’s Poet. He is their national poet and is one of the best known to have written in the Scots language. January 25 is a celebration of his life and poetry. It culminates at the Burns’ supper, and here I was all togged up for the event.
Celebrations in swing
The history of Burns Nicht goes back to July 29, 1801, five years after the man himself had died. His friends got together at the Burns Cottage, and since then the tradition has not been broken.
The first dinner was held on what his friends thought was his birthday. But, later, they discovered the Ayr parish records where his date of birth was recorded as January 25. Since then, suppers have been held on or about the 25th of the month.
These suppers can be formal or informal. I had chosen to attend the more formal one, where men were dressed in kilts and many of the women were in knee-length tartan skirts or had their earasaid on their shoulders, pinned up with a brooch. The evening began with a piper greeting the guests. But, this I missed, thanks to the air traffic.
The guests remained seated when the Selkirk Grace was said. According to legend, Burns said this grace when he was at a dinner with the Earl of Selkirk, and since then it has been the tradition to say this.
The soup rolled in, and it was my favourite — Scotch broth. When the soup was cleared, everyone rose. It was haggis time. The cook carried it in on a large dish while a piper played a tune and lead him to the table. The haggis was laid down. The host then recited the Address to a Haggis.
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place...
During the recital he drew the knife, sharpened it and cut open the haggis from end to end. This was indeed the highlight of the evening. When we were done with the haggis and mashed potatoes, which they insisted on calling “tatties”, we barely had space for dessert which today was Cranachan — cream and fresh seasonal raspberries, bolstered by Scottish oats.
And, we were still not done. There was oatcakes and cheese, after which coffee was served.
Then the toasts and speeches began. The first toast was by the main speaker, remembering an aspect of Burns’s life or his poetry. This guy then climbed on the table and began to sing a song by Burns. He had us all in a jolly mood. Next up, one of the male guests got up to toast the lassies, which was followed by a reply from the lassies.
From there on it was a long night of songs by Burns, the best of which were “Ae Fond Kiss”, “Parcel o’ Rogues” and “To a Mouse”. There seemed to be no letting up.
When the host spotted the lightening up of the sky auguring a new day, he asked one of the guests to give the vote of thanks. Everyone stood up, joined hands and we sang “Auld Lang Syne”.
