tell that this was but the husk of a coat of mail? His words were
honied, but Gawin let it be seen that he was far from convinced; whereat
the other in a fit of righteous indignation protested on his conscience
that he was innocent of evil intent, and for emphasis he lustily smote
his reverend breast, too lustily, alas! for the armour rang under the
blow. “I perceive, my lord, your conscience clatters,” was Gawin’s quick
comment, to appreciate which you must remember that “clatter” signifies
in Scots to tell tales as well as to rattle. Old Scotland was chary of
its speech, being given rather to deeds than words, but it had a few
like gems. Was it not another Douglas who said that he loved better to
hear the lark sing than the mouse cheep? Or one might quote that
delightful “I’ll mak’ siccar” of Kirkpatrick in the matter of the
slaughter of the Red Comyn at Dumfries in 1306; but this is a little
away from our subject.
At the Reformation, for good or for ill, the womb of time brought forth
a form of faith distinctively Scots. Here, at any rate, we have Knox’s
_History of the Reformation of Religion within the Realme of Scotland_
to borrow from. It is usually the writer, not the reader, who consults
such books, yet Knox was a master of the picturesque and the graphic. He
was great in scornful humour; now and again he has almost a Rabelaisian
touch. Take, for instance, his account of the riot on St. Giles’ Day,
the 1st September 1558. For centuries an image of St. Giles was carried
through the streets of Edinburgh and adored by succeeding generations of
the faithful, but when the fierce Edinburgh mob had the vigour of the
new faith to direct and stimulate their old-time recklessness, trouble
speedily ensued. The huge idol was raped from the hands of its keepers
and ducked in the Nor’ Loch. This was a punishment peculiarly reserved
for evil livers, and the crowd found a bitter pleasure in the insult.
Then there was a bonfire in the High Street in which the great image
vanished for ever amid a general saturnalia of good and evil passions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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