A Wandering Minstrel.

Evening Star, Issue 7340, 12 October 1887, Page 3

A Wandering Minstrel.

The life of David Kennedy, the Soottish singer, has just been published by Alexander 'Gardner, of Paisley. It consists of " reminiscences " by his daughter Marjory, and a condensation of the already published accounts of his colonial and Indian tours, by nis son, the late David Kennedy. Amongst the reminiscences we find the following : " In his wanderings he made many interesting acquaintances. In Listowell, Ontario, the brother of Dr Livingstone ; in the town of Gait, a sister of Hugh Miller; and in Hamilton, one of Carlyle's sisters, who introduced herself and presented him with her brother's autograph. In Ottowa, Darcy M'Gee, the brilliant Irish - Canadian politician (who soon after met such an unhappy fate), wrote a poem on Kennedy—one of the numerous tributes of enthusiasm which, if collected, would themselves make a good-sized volume. One of the most interesting towns in the whole tour of the States proved to be Richmond, Virginia, which then (in 1867) boro traces of the recent war. Here ho met Crouch, the little-known composer of the well-known song, • Kathleen Mavourneen.' Crouch was sitting among the audience listening to the auld Scots' sangß, and after the concert introduced himself in the artist's room. In the town of Albany, in New York State, Mr Kennedy was asked to attend a certain church, that he might form an opinion of the singing of a young lady who led the choir there. That was before she went to Europe to study. Need I say that she is now Mdme Albani. And in New York, in 1867, he gave a lesson on the singing of Scottish songs to Miss Antoinette Sterling, now so well known in this country." In Tasmania he came across a Scotch convict with a curious story:—" One night the hotel was so noisy that my father could not sleep, and this prompted him to rise at the early hour of five, long before the rest of us were awake, and to walk on ahead. We did not overtake him until we had travelled half-way, about fourteen miles, and found that he had rested and breakfasted at a wayside inn. He related that while going along he had heard the bark of a dog, and, looking on one side, saw the animal keeping watch over a man lying sleeping by the roadside, with his feet in a ditch. The fellow was blind, evidently a tramp, and somewhat ragged and ricketty in appearance. The barking of his faithful companion woke him instantly. ' Eh—what—how—who's that ?' My father informed him who he was. ' Ech, gosh ! ye're a Scotchman, then !' ' Yes, and you're Scotch, too.' 'Michty! ye're richt there,' exclaimed the blind man ; ' am f rae K a' the way—am noo fifty-seven year auld, an' lost my e e-sicht six year syne in an accident at the making o' the railway.' ' Where did you sleep last night ?' ' Oh, I just lay doou on the stanes o' a pavement—man, it was cauld. The nicht afore, I was lying in the bush, an' when I got up I forgot the place whaur I'd been sleepin', so I lost ane o my boots—a big ane I had for my left fut.' ' Have you been long out in this country ?' ' Lang ! dae ye ken what I am ? I'm a tenyearer—Lord K lagged me, an' I'll just tell ye hoo that wiz but we maun be gangin'. Man, I was a swank, soople chiel when I was young. A big family there was o' us twenty -wau used to sit doon at oor table thegither. Weel, I fell in wi' a lass servin' at Lord K 's, but her faither wadna hae me, 40 I said I wad gang awa', an' I listed in the Lancers; Weel, a letter cam' saying that if I was to see my faither livin' I wad hae to come hame at aince, for he was ta'en ill—so, after some trouble, I got back to Scotland again. My mither fell into my airms —an' how prood they a' were to see me in my blue uniform an' sword. My faithergot better, an' I went to the castle, whaur Jess my sweetheart was, an' the folk there keepit me for days. It was arranged that we twa should get married, an' married we were. Lord K > bocht "me oot o' the sodgers an' made mo his coachman, so I was as comfortable as I could wish.' Here the blind man became less loquacious. ' Ae day,' said be, ' when I was dustin' my maister'a coat, a roll o' notes as big as my fist, look, fell oot o* ane o' the pockets. I took it up, an' I felt the edges o' the notes, sao crisp an' temptin'. Man it was awfu' temptin'. I got on the fuddle then, an' Lord K gae me my dischairge, for he Baw I was spendin' mair money than I could hae frae him. After a while the money was missed, an' I was put in the gaol. I was tried, an' got ten years. Man, thero'a real decent justice in Scotland—in England it wad hae been for life. They shipped me ower the seas to Van Diemen's Land •, an' I've spent mony happy days in this pairt o' the world. . I was happy as lang as I was a ticket-o'-leave, but as soon as I was a free man my troubles began, an' I fell doon in the world.'" Kennedy died, it will be remembered, in Canada, in 1887. His end is touchingly described:—" Because of the great heat of the summer months in the States and Upper Canada, the American tour was commenced in the Canadian maritime provinces, and the intention was to go through Canada first and open the farewell tour of the States on Burna's night, January, 1887, in the Steinway Hall, New York. The tour was to include a visit to British Columbia. But all these plars were suddenly frustrated. He had been growing weaker and weaker day by day. His public talk was growing , more impressive, and we all felt a shadow oomingover us. But everyone said he was singing more beautifully .than ever. How well I remember the last time he sang ' The Land o' the Leal '—it was so beautiful both in tone and expression that it was with difficulty we went on with the remainder of the programme. The disease—Canadian cholera—came on gradually, but he wpuld not cancel his .engagements, although we begged him to do so for his, own sake. On Tuesday, the sth of October, we were to sing in Stratford, Ontario, 'and we travelled on from Sarnia in the afternoon./ He lay down to rest, and did not wake till shortly before eight o'clock. We were all over at the Town Hall except one of our sisters, who remained to help him, and the audience was gathered, many of them having come long distances to hear Kennedy for the last time. At eight o'olock our sister came and said he was too ill to move. What should we do ? We coulij not send the people away at the last hour. The I Mayor; of the city, Mr M'Gregor, kindly

offered to take the chair, and we carried the programme through ourselves. Wo believed it would be only a temporary illness, and made arrangements for a long rest; but we had only a week of nursing. The windows were open all the time, for the Canadian autumn weather is lovely, and we looked out on the gorgeous autumn foliage of the maple trees. There was nothing gloomy about his death, nothing bitter about his memory. It was the peaceful end of a beautiful life, His wife and daughters were all round him when he died, and sang to him two Verses of his favorite hymn." He was a thorough Scotch Radical in his politics, .and once had the pleasure of meeting hts political hero, Bright. "He felt keenly t(ie growing fashion of talking of the affairs of the nation as the ' English' policy. In introducing Burns'a song 'Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled' (Bruce's address to the Scottish Army on Bunnockburn field), he said: 'Scotland is not a part of England, Scotland is a partner with England in the, country which ought to be called, but seldom is,' Great Britain.' Part of the treaty of the Union was that the two countries should take down their rival sjgnboards, ' England' and 'Scotland,' and .put up a large one covering both —' Great Britain.' The bargain was made fair and square., John Bull couldna say $p Sandy Campbell' You must do this,'' You must do that.' 'Must' was buried at Bannockburn field; 'lf you want to be freends,' says Sandy, 'there's my hand ; but if .you want to fecht, come on !' That bargain has not been kept. Orators of all kinds, both great and small, talk of ' England' when they mean Britain, and of the 'English' Army and the 'English' Navy, etc., as if there were no 42nd Highlanders or Enniskillen Dragoons." Some people think this is a craze, and that the name England serves just as well as Britain; but to those who are proud of their nationality it is not so. Of all politicians, the man he most esteemed was John Bright. He had been the hero of his younger days. One day he met him on the station at Grantown on the Highland Railway. The old gentleman was Kindly holping my mother and sisters into the carriage in the absence of a porter when my father came up. " Pardon me, but you are John Bright, if I mistake not ?" " That is my name," he said; "whom have / the pleasuro of addressing?" "I am David Kennedy, the Scottish singer. I have sung 'A man's a man for a' that' round the world." At this moment the train moved off. They cordially shook hands and parted. _________ — _