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Allan Ramsay. [A biography.] - National Library of Scotland

Allan Ramsay. [A biography.] - National Library of Scotland

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114 FAMOUS SCOTS<br />

from a Neapolitan villa, and designed by his son <strong>Allan</strong>,<br />

which so long was an ornament on the northern slope<br />

overlooking the New Town <strong>of</strong> Edinburgh. From his<br />

windows a reach <strong>of</strong> scenery was commanded, probably<br />

not surpassed in Europe, stretching from the mouth <strong>of</strong><br />

the Firth <strong>of</strong> Forth on the east to the Grampians on the<br />

west, and extending far across the green hills <strong>of</strong> Fife to<br />

the north. The poet, however, becoming alarmed at the<br />

expense he was incurring, altered his son's design after<br />

the building was half completed. In consequence, the<br />

mansion presented a very quaint appearance. Tradition<br />

states that Andrew Fletcher <strong>of</strong> Saltoun (afterwards Lord<br />

Milton) first detected the resemblance to a goose-pie.<br />

Be this as it may, <strong>Allan</strong> was grievously vexed by the<br />

comparison, and one day, when showing it, in the pride <strong>of</strong><br />

his heart, to the witty Lord Elibank, who duly admired its<br />

unrivalled prospect, he added, ' And yet, my lord, thae<br />

toon wits say it's like naething else than a guse-pie.' ' Deed,<br />

<strong>Allan</strong>, noo I see ye intilt, I'm thinkin' the wits are no' sae<br />

far wrang.' History does not record <strong>Allan</strong>'s rejoinder.<br />

Scarcely had he entered his new mansion, however,<br />

expecting to enjoy there many years <strong>of</strong> domestic happi-<br />

ness and peace, than the great sorrow <strong>of</strong> his life fell<br />

upon him. In March 1743, his faithful and loving<br />

partner, who had stood by him amid all the storm and<br />

stress <strong>of</strong> his busy career, was taken from him, after thirty<br />

years <strong>of</strong> unbroken affection and devotion. She was<br />

interred in the Greyfriars Churchyard, as the cemetery<br />

records show, on the 28th <strong>of</strong> March 1743. So intense<br />

was her husband's grief that he, who for many another<br />

had written elegies instinct with deep sympathy and<br />

regret, could not trust himself to write <strong>of</strong> her, 'lest I

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