Dance Up in the Air 6848

Now the sun’s gane out o’ sight,
Beet the ingle, an’ snuff the light;
In glens the fairies skip an’ dance,
An’ witches wallop o’er to France.
  Up in the air
  On my bonny grey mare;
An’ I see her yet, an’ I see her yet.
  Up in the air
  On my bonny grey mare.

The wind’s drifting hail an’’ snaw
O’er frozen hags like a foot ba’;
Nae starns keek thro’ the azure slit,
It’s cauld an’ mirk as ony pit.
  The man i’ the moon
  Is carousing aboon,
D’ye see, d’ye see, d’ye see him yet.
  The man i’ the moon
  Is carousing aboon.

Tak your glass to clear your een,
It’s the elixer hales the spleen,
Baith wit an’ mirth it will inspire,
An’ gently puffs the lover’s fire.
  Up in the air,
  It drives away care;
Hae wi’ ye, hae wi’ ye, an’ hae wi’ ye lads, yet.
  Up in the air,
  It drives away care.

Steek the doors, keep out the frost;
Come, Willie, gie’s about your toast;
Till’t lads, an’ lilt it out,
An’ let us hae a blythesome bout.
  Up wi’t there, there,
  Dinna cheat, but drink fair,
Huzza, huzza, an’ huzza, lads, yet.
  Up wi’t there, there,
  Dinna cheat, but drink fair.

– Allan Ramsay (1686–1758)

Ramsay’s drinking song was written during the first half of the 18th century and the dance “Up in the Air” was published in 1797. In between there was a toally non-political event that challenged the minds of the Scottish people. The year was 1784. The Scots looked upward and saw a phenomenon with their own eyes. Man was airborne.

James Tytler (1747–1805) was a physician without a practice, an impecunious poet and a hack writer whom Robert Burns called “an obscure, tippling, but extraordinary body”. He contributed several poems and songs to The Scots Musical Museum and was the editor of the second edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1777–1783. On 27 August, 1784, Tytler became the first person in Great Britain to navigte the air. Granted, the navigation was short lived, for he rose in a fire balloon of his own construction from Comely Garden and landed on the road to Restalrig. As Burns described the event, “He ascended from Comely Garden, Edinburgh, amidst the acclamation of an immense multitude, and descended at a distance of a quarter of a mile, owing to some unforeseen defect in the machinery”. The adventure brought Tytler neither fortune nor fame, but it did earn him his nickname, “Balloon”.

About two weeks later Vincent Lunardi, secretary to Prince Caramanico, the Neopolitan ambassador, performed a similar feat, but with far more success. On 15 September, Lunardi rose in a hydrogen gas balloon from the Artillery ground in London and floated about for over two hours. He made one descent to let off a feline passenger who was suffering from the cold and ultimately landed near Ware in Hertfordshire. The following year Lunardi came to Scotland where he made ascensions from Kelso and Glasgow. On 5 October, 1785, he rose from the garden of George Heriot’s Hospital in Edinburgh and crossed the Firth of Forth to Ceres in Fife “after a most delightful and glorious voyage of 46 miles, 36 over water and 10 over land, and was received with the most affecting demonstrations of joy”.