Showing posts with label A Land Fit for Heroes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A Land Fit for Heroes. Show all posts

Wednesday, 5 August 2020

 To pursue Sir Walter Scott's stories of the reign of James VI and I - his stories tell more about the stote of the nation than most history books because they deal with people - here is another sample :-
"We have before mentioned, that in those wild days the very children had their deadly feuds, carried weapons, and followed the bloody example of their fathers. ... in September 1595. The scholars of the High School of Edinburgh, having a dispute with their masters about the length of their holidays, resolved to stand out for a longer vacation. Accordingly, they took possession of the school in that most mutinous manner, which in England is known as 'barring out', and resisted the admission of the masters. Such foolish things have often occurred in public schools elsewhere; but what was peculiar to the High School boys of Edinburgh was, that they defended the school with sword and pistol, and when Bailie MacMorrran, one of the magistrates, gave direction to force the entrance, three of the boys fired, and killed him on the spot.There were none of them punished, because it was alleged that it could not be known which of them did the deed; but rather because two of them were gentleman's sons. 
There's not much mileage in that for even a short story  but using it as background can add authenticity to a longer tale, especially if the magistrates son takes revenge on all three of the shooters and provides a serial killer story. What makes that possible is the detail Scott provides.



Sunday, 16 July 2017

Kirk and Free Kirk

My boyhood friend, Rob, and I spent most of our free time together, except on Sunday. My family attended the Parish Church, The Church of Scotland, while his were members of the Free Church of Scotland. The differences between their theologies had long eroded but the antipathy remained. Our building had stained glass windows and a pipe organ and had been built from the stone recovered from the old kirk when it was vandalised at the time of the reformation. The old kirk had been on a low knoll that overlooked the old village but, by the time of the reformation, the village had grown away from it and it no longer dominated and the new kirk was built on a height that overlooked all but the 20th century part of the village. I suppose the congregation’s first lesson of Sunday worship was that, like Moses, they had to climb up the hill to hear the word of God.

Rob’s kirk had no stained glass, that being a form of graven image, was down near the old kirk and had a small peddle organ, a modern introduction when the congregation was converted to singing hymns but not to the extent of having ‘a kist of whistles’.