William Duncan Latto aka Tammas Bodkin

William Duncan Latto was born in the parish of Ceres in Fife in 1823. He started life as a weaver, then became a schoolmaster, and finally a journalist. He was editor of the People's Journal from 1861 to 1898, and under his pen-name, 'Tammas Bodkin', the most famous vernacular essayist in Victorian Scotland. He had a life-long struggle to improve the condition of the common people of Scotland which sprang from personal experience of poverty, and many years in the editorial chair of a crusading popular newspaper. He also had a role as a political commentator at the forefront of Scottish advanced Liberal opinion throughout the period, giving memorable voice to its characteristic anti-Imperialist fervour. He also had a gift as a humorous observer of men and manners whose sparkling comic talent delighted two generations of Victorian Scots.

Clearly one of those Scots delighted by him was William Robertson. His delight was no doubt in the stories of Tammas and his formidable wife Tibbie as well as the fact that Mr Latto published his own poems and stories in the People's Journal too.

Bodkin, the central character of the column, is a manufacturing tailor in Dundee with an apprentice called Willie Clippins who later becomes his partner, and a varied career which includes foreign travel and the inheritance of great wealth. He is elderly, childless, and married to a headstrong wife called Tibbie with whom he has an affectionate if stormy relationship. Between them Bodkin and Tibbie provide comment on a whole range of contemporary issues as seen by a couple of shrewd well-informed upper-working class Scots.

This no doubt explains the following poem from The Mountain Muse.

AN EPISTLE FRAE GLENWHUSKY TO TAMMAS BODKIN

Dear Tammas, honest man and wise,

Your hamely sense I highly prize,

And racy gude braid Scotch;

The humour o' thy facile pen

Mak's muckle mirth baith but and ben,

And gars us lauch and hotch.

I like your queer auld-farran stories

Better than I like the Tories;

That crew I do denounce.

Your Tory member mak's pretense

To liberal be in every sense,

But that is only bounce.

If you should mak' a pair o' breeks

To me, be sure and mind the steeks,

And see and gar them stand;

For breeks that's shoo'd wi' the machine

Are no sae gude, my dainty freen',

As when done by the hand.

I like to see your honest face,

Blythe, pawky, yet sae fu' o' grace,

Our norlan' lairds may dread your pen,

Wha turn awa' oor Hielan' men,

They ken how you can hit.

Thus far I ha'e forgot mysel'.

Losh! how is Tibbie, is she well?

She is a noble wife,

And been to you companion meet,
Frae tap to tae a' sae complete,

To mak' your pleasures rife.

Whan to Glenwhusky you gang back,

Wi' Hielan' men to snuff and crack,

I'll gie you my advice;

Be bauld and stoot, screw up a peg,

And don the tartan philabeg;

Man, it wad set you nice.

A chiel' like you, sae straucht and tall,

Altho' you're maybe gettin' aul',

Micht dance the Hielan' fling.

Tak' tent and mind a' fat I say,

Before the fiddler starts to play,

Mind Devlinside's the spring.

When you return I'll on you ca',

And if you've only time ava',

We baith maun taste a drap.

Yes, Tammas, man, we'll hae a dram,

And finish aff wi' egg and ham -

'Tis richt to fill the crap.

Cud you but learn a Gaelic sang,

And gie the tune the proper twang,

Losh, man, how that wad charm's;

I think we'd maybe a' get fou',

The lasses wad salute your mou',

And hug you in their arms.

I think I've nearly said my say,

And when we meet some ither day

We'll hae a couthie crack.

Tell Tibbie you hae heard frae me,

Turn up her chin and freely gie

A rousin', hearty smack.

I've written this wi' railway speed,

Ye'll fint but a hamely screed,

Yet I hae done my best.

A gude fat soo lang may ye hae

To kill upon a Christmas Day,

And cosy keep your nest.

For further information see The Language of the People: Scots Prose from the Victorian Revival, by William Donaldson (Aberdeen University Press, 1989) and Popular Literature in Victorian Scotland: Language, Fiction and the Press (also AUP).

The following was also published in the Aberdeen People's Journal 24 November, 1894 in a column published by "Tammas Bodkin"

"Frae Mr. William Robertson, the octogenarian poet o' Broughty Ferry, wha describes himsel' as an 'auld acquaintance an' sincere weel-wisher,' I've received the followin' poem, which I prize very highly, an' for which I thank its venerable author frae the very benmost neuk o' my heart. I was to see frae his "graphology" that his haun', like my ain, is growin' a wee shaky. Lang may he be able to lilt a sang an' wield a pen, say I. The poem he sends reads thusly: -

LINES TO TAMMAS BODKIN

Dear Tammas: -
You truly seem a wonderous man,
An' hands your place still in the van
'Mang bricht an' witty chaps;
You are a genial, happy soul.
An' may you never ken the want
Of butter to your baps.

Like me you hae, nae doot,  been tauld,
That there are hearts that ne'er grow auld,
An' truth I think it true;
A healthy stamach a may find
Can comfort an' cheer up the mind,
Sae may it fare wi' you.

Nae gloomy pall thy thoughts enshroud;
The silver linin' a' the cloud
Thy bosom still can warm;
The torrent's roar, the whispering rills,
The bass and tenor o' the hills
Hae to your heart a charm.

I think you lo'e a body weel,
To stan' between them and the de'il,
That is at fat you ettle.
As lang as you the pen can wield
Nae doot you'll bauldly keep the field,
Juist to keep's a in fettle.

A gran' auld man an' nae mistak',
A body likes your genial crack
An' strong an' pithy sense;
Sae Tammas Bodkin is a name
Kent far abroad as weel's a t hame,
An' never gi'es offense.

An' noo that I hae had my say,
My earnest wish is that you may
Amang us still remain,
A stalwart man 'mang sturdy men,
Wi' heart an' hand to wield the pen
An' healthy workin' brain.

Broughty Ferry - William Robertson