THE daft exploits, often in pursuit of female flesh, of King James V,
who, as the Guid Man of Ballingeich, wandered the land sharing the
humdrum existence of his subjects are well enough documented. Saucily,
one biographer has suggested that ''sleeping in barns, on clean pease
strae and partaking of the guid wife's sheep's heid, oaten cakes and
ale, or whatever else she had on offer, was no uncommon occurrence in
the life of James''.
But my own favourite tale, which may echo eerily into the humdrum
1990s, is possibly one of the least well-known and centres not on the
monarch's sexual exploits but his liking for a wee refreshment.
On one of his famous sixteenth-century pedestrian tours, he ended up
at Markinch in Fife and like any humble traveller felt a trifle parched.
The nearest inn and a glass of porter beckoned. The guid wife was happy
to see the stranger but informed him that her only available room was
occupied by the local schoolmaster and the minister. However, she
remained confident that they would welcome him into their company. So it
proved.
He entered, was welcomed, and began to drink with them. After what is
described as a ''tough debauch of several hours,'' during which he
succeeded in being accepted as a worthy drinking companion of the two
local celebrities, the bill came to be paid.
James pulled out his money pouch to contribute his share but on seeing
this, the schoolmaster proposed to the
clergyman that they should pay the bill since the visitor had joined
them later in their drinking session and, in any case, as a stranger he
was entitled to their hospitality.
''Na, Na,'' quaffed the minister. ''I see no reason in that. This
birkie maun must pay higgledy-piggledy wi' oorsels; that's aye the law
in the Markinch. Higgledy-piggledy's the word.''
The schoolmaster argued against this selfish and unjust reasoning, but
the stubborn minister held his ground. James watched the argument rage
to and fro before eventually declaring: ''Weel, weel, higgledy-piggledy
be it!''
Immediately afterwards, in a judgment worthy of Solomon, he made
arrangements to ensure that the salary of Markinch's minister never
overtook that of the generous schoolteacher.
Apocryphal, far-fetched, or what? Well, according to normally reliable
sources this odd arrangement lasted the course; 300 years on -- in the
mid 1800s -- the salaries were still on a par. Higgledy-piggledy indeed.
But back to the twentieth century. Not so many years ago I was
intrigued by a wee woman who frequented a pub in Glasgow's Byres Road
where I was known to occasionally drop by. She would approach the bar on
every occasion saying: ''We'll huv a wee voddy.''
Now, she was clearly unaccompanied so I reckon, poor soul, that she
must have had an unseen companion, like the friend my granny used to
talk to behind the living-room wall. But hold, could there be another,
more sensational explanation? Could the present royal family be among us
now, following the example of their Stuart predecessor and having the
occasional undercover sortie among the punters? Was that the Guid Woman
o' Buck House?
Perhaps. When we come to the other members of the royal family the
theory gets more problematical. Charlie's ears would be a dead giveaway,
Fergie's giggle would echo from the BBC Club to the Dolphin, and I just
know that Phil would never get into the Curlers with his sword.
JIM HEWITSON
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