My Poetry. Little Joey.

 Joey sat in the chair he called home
 watching the world go by
 at ten years old he could not walk
no matter how hard he would try.
 His mom was a working lady
 she had to make ends meet
 a streetwalker making her wages
 making money on the street.
 Joey was left alone at night
 dreaming of what life could be
 all he saw was a window
 and outside an enormous tree.
 He imagined climbing to the top
 and shouting with all of his might
 hey you down there, look at me
 I got here and I can fight.
He dreamt of someday being a firefighter
saving many lives
children rescued from the heat
husbands and their wives.
Or maybe he could be a doctor
to end all disability in life
settle down with children
be happy with a wife.
But for now he was so lonely
in a World that made no sense
being poked at and humiliated
at everyones expence.
Despite this Joey was humble
he cared for people like him
thats why he would exercise
and go out to the gymn.
He was told he would never walk
or enjoy a stroll in the park
instead he sat there dreaming
alone and in the dark.
There are lots of Joeys in this world
who simply want their health
but sadly there are many more
who only think of wealth.    
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My Poetry. The pain she bears.

What can anyone do to relieve
the pain she feels inside?
why does this woman suffer
she only has her pride.
What happens to a flower
when it loses its perfume?
what is the point of furniture
in a well stocked room.
Why do the good always suffer?
when evil lives care free
why is it always sadness
That comes for you and me?
This lady is a diamond
pure and loved by all
so why does she always suffer
to rise and then to fall.
Maybe in a short while
a cure will be found for you
to see you smiling once again
to live your life right through.
The pain and suffering you endure
is painful not just for you
your in the hearts of many
an abundance of love you accrue.
Determination is your middle name
a fighter you are till the end
so know that you are a lot more
than just a loving friend.

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Famous Scots. Kirkpatrick Macmillan.

(1812 – 1878)

Macmillan was a Scottish blacksmith who is credited with the invention of the pedal bicycle.

Kirkpatrick Macmillan was born in 1812 in Dumfriesshire, the son of a blacksmith. He did a variety of jobs as a young man, before settling into working with his father in 1824. At around that time he saw a hobbyhorse being ridden along a nearby road and decided to make one for himself. Upon completion, he realised what a radical improvement it would be if he could propel it without putting his feet on the ground. Working at his smithy, he completed his new machine in around 1839.

This first pedal bicycle was propelled by a horizontal reciprocating movement of the rider’s feet on the pedals. This movement was transmitted to cranks on the rear wheel by connecting rods; the machine was extremely heavy and the physical effort required to ride it must have been considerable. Nevertheless, Macmillan quickly mastered the art of riding it on the rough country roads and was soon accustomed to making the fourteen-mile journey to Dumfries in less than an hour. His next exploit was to ride the 68 miles into Glasgow in June 1842. The trip took him two days and he was fined five shillings for causing a slight injury to a small girl who ran across his path.

He never thought of patenting his invention or trying to make any money out of it, but others who saw it were not slow to realize its potential, and soon copies began to appear for sale. Gavin Dalzell of Lesmahagow copied his machine in 1846 and passed on the details to so many people that for more than 50 years he was generally regarded as the inventor of the bicycle. However, Macmillan was quite unconcerned with the fuss his invention had prompted, preferring to enjoy the quiet country life to which he was accustomed. He died on 26 January 1878.

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My Poetry. Newly formed Love.

Heal my wounds 
free my chains
bond our love
with the time that remains.
Sacrifice your destiny
forget about your fate
chase away the devils
wipe clean my slate.
Play softly your music
with symphonies of power
witness my new entrance
from the dark and lonely tower.
Resuscitate my heart
with passion alive
breathe life within me
helping me to thrive.
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Scotland and its History. (Inventions)

Toasting began as a method of prolonging the life of bread. It was initially toasted over open fires with tools to hold it in place until it was properly browned. Toasting was a very common activity in Roman times; “tostum” is the Latin word for scorching or burning. As the Romans travelled throughout Europe vanquishing their foes in early times, it’s said that they took their toasted bread right along with them. The British developed a fondness for the Romans’ toast and introduced it in the Americas when they crossed the ocean.

The First Electric Toasters.

The first electric toaster was invented in 1893 by Alan MacMasters in Scotland. He called the device the “Eclipse Toaster,” and it was manufactured and marketed by the Crompton Company.

This early toaster was reinvented in 1909 in the U.S. when Frank Shailor patented his idea for the “D-12” toaster. General Electric ran with the idea and introduced it for use in the home. Unfortunately, it only toasted one side of the bread at a time and it required that someone stand by to manually turn it off when the toast looked done.

Westinghouse followed with its own version of a toaster in 1914, and the Copeman Electric Stove Company added an “automatic bread turner” to its toaster in 1915. Charles Strite invented the modern timed pop-up toaster in 1919. Today, the toaster is the most common household appliance although it’s only been in existence in the U.S. a little over 100 years.

An unusual online museum is dedicated to the toaster, with lots of photos and historical information.

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Scotland and its History. Burns night.

Burns Night is annually celebrated in Scotland on or around January 25. It commemorates the life of the bard (poet) Robert Burns, who was born on January 25, 1759. The day also celebrates Burns’ contribution to Scottish culture. His best-known work is Auld Lang Syne.

Is Burns Night a Public Holiday?

Burns Night is not a public holiday. It falls on Saturday, 25 January 2020 and most businesses follow regular Saturday opening hours in the United Kingdom.

What Do People Do?

Many people and organizations hold a Burns supper on or around Burns Night. These may be informal or formal, only for men, only for women, or for both genders. Formal events include toasts and readings of pieces written by Robert Burns. Ceremonies during a Burns Night supper vary according to the group organizing the event and the location.

The evening centres on the entrance of the haggis (a type of sausage prepared in a sheep’s stomach) on a large platter to the sound of a piper playing the bagpipes. When the haggis is on the table, the host reads the “Address to a Haggis”. This is an ode that Robert Burns wrote to the Scottish dish. At the end of the reading, the haggis is ceremonially sliced into two pieces and the meal begins.

Public Life

Burns Night is an observance but it is not a bank holiday in the United Kingdom.


Robert Burns was born in Alloway, Scotland, on January 25, 1759. He died in Dumfries, Scotland, on July 21, 1796. He was a bard (poet) and wrote many poems, lyrics and other pieces that addressed political and civil issues. Perhaps his best-known work is “Auld Lang Syne”, which is sung at New Year’s Eve celebrations in Scotland, parts of the United Kingdom, and other places around the world. Burns is one of Scotland’s important cultural icons and is well known among Scottish ex-pats or descendants around the world. He is also known as: “Rabbie Burns”; the “Bard of Ayrshire”; “Scotland’s favourite son”; and in Scotland “The Bard”.

Robert Burns acquaintances held the first Burns supper on July 21, the anniversary of his death, in Ayrshire, Scotland, in the late 1700s. The date was later changed to January 25, which marks his birthday. Burns suppers are now held by people and organizations with Scottish origins worldwide, particularly in Australia, Canada, England, and the United States.


The Scottish flag is often displayed at Burns Night celebrations. It is known as the Saltire and consists of a rectangular blue background with thick white bars on the diagonals. The diagonals form a cross that represents Saint Andrew, the patron saint of Scotland.

At Burns Night events, many men wear kilts and women may wear shawls, skirts or dresses made from their family tartan. A tartan was originally a woollen cloth with a distinctive pattern made by using colours of weft and warp when weaving. Particular patterns and combinations of colours were associated with different areas, clans and families. Tartan patterns are now printed on various materials.

Many types of food are associated with Burns Night. These include cock-a-leekie soup (chicken and leek soup); haggis; neeps (mashed turnips or swedes) and tatties (mashed potatoes); cranachan (whipped cream mixed with raspberries and served with sweet oat wafers); and bannocks (a kind of bread cooked on a griddle). Whisky is a traditional drink.

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My Poetry. Australia we pray.

Australia we feel for you 
In your horrible plight
The sadness and grieving
Is not out of sight.
The death of so many
Is hurting us all
The devastation is gross
And is hard to call.
Animals being roasted
Nowhere to run
No matter the fighting
Under the hot sun.
Homes distinguished
In a matter of days
As the fires burn out of hand
Under the suns rays.
We pray God sends rain
To put out the fires
Lighten the load
As the cleanup transpires.
Give strength to the people
Who work hard every day
Evacuating the citizens
Amongst the foray.
We are all with you
In this time of fear
Stepping up the aid
Shedding a tear.
As your great Country evaluates
The damage done
We hope you get relief
From the glaring sun.
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Scottish Architecture. Roman structures.

The Romans began military expeditions into what is now Scotland from about 71 AD. In the summer of AD 78 Gnaeus Julius Agricola arrived in Britain to take up his appointment as the new governor and began a series of expeditions to Scotland. Two years later his legions constructed a substantial fort at Trimontium near Melrose. He is said to have pushed his armies to the estuary of the “River Taus” (usually assumed to be the River Tay) and established forts there, including a legionary fortress at Inchtuthil.

Agricola’s successors were unable or unwilling to further subdue the far north. The fortress at Inchtuthil was dismantled before its completion and the other fortifications of the Gask Ridge were abandoned within the space of a few years. By AD 87 the occupation was limited to the Southern Uplands and by the end of the first century the northern limit of Roman expansion was a line drawn between the Tyne and Solway Firth. Elginhaugh fort, in Midlothian, dates to about this period as may Castle Greg in West Lothian. The Romans eventually withdrew to a line in what is now northern England, building the fortification known as Hadrian’s Wall from coast to coast. 

Around 141 A.D. the Romans undertook a reoccupation of southern Scotland, moving up to construct a new limes between the Firth of Forth and the Firth of Clyde. The Antonine Wall is the largest Roman construction inside Scotland. It is a sward-covered wall made of turf circa 7 metres (20 ft) high, with nineteen forts. It extended for 60 km (37 mi). Having taken twelve years to build, the wall was overrun and abandoned soon after AD 160 The Romans retreated to the line of Hadrian’s Wall, with occasional expeditions that involved the building and reoccupation of forts, until their departure in the fifth century.

Beyond the area of Roman occupation, wheelhouses, a round house with a characteristic outer wall within which a circle of stone piers (bearing a resemblance to the spokes of a wheel) were constructed, with over sixty sites identified in the west and north.


Over 400 souterrains, small underground constructions, have been discovered in Scotland, many of them in the south-east, and although few have been dated those that have suggest a construction date in the 2nd or 3rd centuries AD. They are usually found close to settlements (whose timber frames are much less well-preserved) and may have been for storing perishable agricultural products.After the departure of the Romans we have evidence of a series of forts, often smaller “nucleated” constructions compared with Iron Age constructions, sometimes utilising major geographical features, as at Dunadd and Dumbarton.

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My Poetry. Another New Year. 2020

Once again we hit the end 
the Year is over again
time does fly when your getting older
not like it did back then.
You did not mind if years went in
it was shrugged away and forgot
sillyhearts never want to remember
you appreciate what you have got.
Will this Year bring anything exciting?
we always hope and pray
well even just waking in the morning is a bonus
and living another new day.
We all have dreams of what we want
and sometimes they do come true
Will this year be good to me?
and hopefully for you too.
This is a new decade ,what have we learned
ever stopped for a moment to think?
we still have youngsters pregnant at 13
or people who take drugs or drink!
There are still wars, and greed is a fashion
no matter how many years dwindle by
so what will this new year bring for us?
will some people live and not die?
HAPPY NEW YEAR is an empty thought
if nothing doesn’t change
think what you say and try to be genuine
even though that sounds very strange.
Lend a hand to your fellow man
Or even say hello
Try to be the best you can
You reap what you will sow.
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My Poetry. Political dismay.

 He did this
She did that
He is a liar
She is a twat.
He stole her thunder
She couldn’t care less
Its his fault we are in this
She caused the mess.
Don’t vote for them
But please vote for us
We don’t have any transport
But They have a bus!.
He goes to your door
She goes on the tv
Is anyone bothered
Or is it just me?
He said on Twitter
She told a lie
All this pa- lava
Is by the by
He wants to win
She is in the door
What is the point of all this
Do we know what we are voting for?
He wants Brexit
She wants to remain
He started a war
She stood in the rain.
One wants independence
The other could care less
All this political trauma
Causing all this stress.
At the end of the day
Who will truly win?
Certainly not the working class
Who end up in the bin.
So when it comes to polling day
When you make that inked cross
Who really gives a damn
Who gives a toss?
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Scotland and its History. St Andrews day.

St Andrew is Scotland’s patron saint, but who was he? What did he do that was so saintly? And how did he get the honour of becoming Scotland’s patron saint?

As we look forward to this year’s St Andrew’s Day celebrations, we thought it would be a good idea to give you a little peek into his life, his work and all the things that made him such an impressive character, not just for Scotland, but for countries all around the world.

St Andrew has been celebrated in Scotland for over a thousand years, with feasts being held in his honour as far back as the year 1000 AD. However, it wasn’t until 1320, when Scotland’s independence was declared with the signing of The Declaration of Arbroath, that he officially became Scotland’s patron saint. Since then St Andrew has become tied up in so much of Scotland. The flag of Scotland, the St Andrew’s Cross, was chosen in honour of him. Also, the ancient town of St Andrews was named due to its claim of being the final resting place of St Andrew.

With so many different connections to our country, it’s worth considering how he came to be so important to Scotland. The answer is surprisingly simple and sums up some of the most prominent characteristics that you can find in Scots both at home and abroad. When we talk of him today, we specifically look at the traits that made him so saintly (figuratively and, later, literally).


He has struck a chord with the Scots for thousands of years and to this day and anyone who has visited Scotland can vouch that his spirit is still alive here today. If you’re lost, there’s always someone there happy to point you in the right direction. In fact, Scotland is known around the world for its incredibly warm welcome and friendliness. It’s one of the many things that keeps people coming back to visit.

Scotland’s desire to help those who are less fortunate is highlighted in the many social enterprises that are thriving across the country. You only have to look at the amazing success of companies like Social Bite, who are pioneering charitable causes in an unprecedented way. They’re not the only ones, as Scotland is home to more than 5,600 social enterprises, with approximately 300 new enterprises starting up every year. All these incredible companies are dedicated to providing an ethical and more sustainable way of doing business and working towards creating a fairer world.


Despite the fact that St Andrew has stood as Scotland’s patron saint for so many years, it wasn’t until the 18th century that the popular celebration of his day became commonplace. What might surprise you, even more, is that the tradition of celebrating on November 30th was not even technically started in Scotland, but by a group of ex-pats in the USA who were keen to reconnect with their Scottish roots.

It all began with the creation of the ‘St Andrew’s Society of Charleston’ in South Carolina, which was founded in 1729 by a group of wealthy Scottish immigrants. The organisation is actually the oldest Scottish society of its type in the world. They became famous throughout the region for their work assisting orphans and widows in that area.

This was followed by another society, this time in New York, which was founded in 1756. ‘The St Andrew’s Society of the State of New York’ is the oldest charity of any kind registered in New York and was founded by Scotsmen who were looking to relieve the poor and distressed in the town. From these seeds, St Andrew’s societies have spread around the world as Scots have travelled and settled in the far reaches of the globe.

More recently, St Andrew’s Day has become more and more special to Scots and ranks as one of three major dates during the winter period. Starting off Scotland’s Winter Festival each year on November 30, people across the country gather together to celebrate St Andrew and share good times. The day is usually marked with a celebration of Scottish culture, including dancing.

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Public Poetry. Lewis Carrol


'Beware the Jabberwock, my son! 
   The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
   The frumious Bandersnatch!'
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
   Long time the manxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
   And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
   The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
   And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
   The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
   He went galumphing back.
'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
   Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
   He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
   Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
   And the mome raths outgrabe.

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My Poetry. What I leave to you.

I would ask you why you deserted me 
when I was a younger child
never gave me any feelings
just made me hard and wild.
Where were you when I needed you?
in my early youth

did you not even think of me
you know I'm telling the truth.
Did you give me a family
who never knew the meaning of you
all they gave was torture
and always making me blue.
Why did you say you are blind
when all the time you see
then you tore a strip from you
but you never gave it to me.
Tell me will you ever come to me
and allow me to be someone true
or will you always evade my soul
all my life through.
I see you all around me
in many people I know
you fill their hearts with gladness
you help them to prosper and grow.
I feel you will not want me
because what you never had you never get
so I will give you to my dog
my undying supportive pet.

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My Poetry. Down and out Worldwide.

Its coming near that time 
When the cold will truly bite
The winds are howling around you
Your tucked up for the night.
Let's think of the many homeless
Struggling to get some heat
Scared of sleeping rough
Often they get beat.
There are some who are chancers
Who just want to make a quick “buck”
But there are also lots of genuine people
Who are down on their luck.
So if you can spare a sandwich
Or a blanket would be great
Or even spare some dog food
For their companion who probably ain't ate.
So spare some thought for someone else
In this Selfish unkind age
When all you read about these days
Is hatred, filled with rage.
When your sitting in your comfortable home
Just after a wholesome meal
Imagine how cold it is out there
And how the Homeless feel!
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My Poetry. Past your sell by date.

 You think you are past your “sell-by date” 
When aches and pains appear 
It takes a wee while longer 
To drink your pint of beer. 
You cannot hold your water 
Always bursting at the seams
You go to bed early
And hope for decent dreams.
You wake up during the night
To have yet another pee
You do not have the bloody brains
To turn on a light to see.
When you fumble back into bed
The dogs took your bloody place
So you end up on the cold part
While he snores out of his face!
When morning comes eventually
After another of those restless nights
You head for the bathroom
As the cold winter bites.
The aches and pains still there
Your knees have a good old “crack”
As you try to come to some order
And try to straighten your back.
All you can do is be pleased
You have awoken to another day.
So folks keep on smiling
It is the only way.
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My Poetry. When love finally lands.

Sometimes it takes a lifetime 
Or maybe you find that friend
After looking in so many shadows
And all the dead ends.
Life is a bloody battle
Where you will never win the war
Even though you aint got a clue
Just what you're fighting for?
But when you find that someone
The stars come out that night
The horror and the pain fades away
As does The struggle and the fight.
To be in love is wondrous
It doesn’t happen to all
So when it comes into your life
You grab it by the ball.
Be happy your together
Don’t worry about the rest
Time will be on your side
And passion is a test.

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Scottish Battles. Solway Moss (1542)

Hey folks, Welcome to another Battle in Scotland, we had a lot lol, enjoy.

The battle of Solway Moss (1542)

Following the death of James IV at the Battle of Flodden (1513), Scotland had been under the control of a Regency government. Initially headed by the dowager Queen Margaret, sister to Henry VIII of England, she was displaced by a pro-French faction and was replaced by John Stewart, Duke of Albany. Power ebbed and flowed between Margaret’s supporters and those of Stewart whilst the English also intervened by invading and sacking the borders in 1523. Eventually the Albany Regency fell and James V became a substantive ruler in his own right.

With Scotland now ruled by the young James V under the influence of his English mother, hopes for improved Anglo-Scottish relations were high. However, in 1534 Henry VIII broke the link between Rome and the English church appointing himself as its Supreme Head. Suppression of the Abbeys and plundering of the wealth of the church followed. Such action was strongly opposed by James V who was heavily influenced by the staunchly Catholic and pro-French magnate Cardinal David Beaton. With Scotland resisting the English move towards religious reform, tensions between the two nations increased significantly. The death of Queen Margaret in 1541 removed the final impediment to war.

Henry VIII demanded that James meet him in York to discuss a religious settlement between the two nations but the Scottish King failed to attend. An English army then raided the Scottish borders under the Command of Robert Bowes. At the Battle of Haddon Rig, fought near Kelso on 24 August 1542, the English were soundly defeated by a Scottish army under George Gordon, Earl of Huntly. A further English raid in October 1542 – under Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk – saw Kelso and Roxburgh burnt. Keen to retaliate, James V mustered his forces for a strike into England.


James V had planned to lead the expedition himself but fell ill and advanced no further than Lochmaben Castle. Command of the Scottish army then devolved to Lord Robert Maxwell, a senior magnate who had served in the Regency Government and who had actually raised the bulk of the troops for the campaign. However, despite Maxwell’s previous service to the Crown, the King did not trust him. James secretly instructed his favourite, Lord Oliver Sinclair, to take command as soon as the army crossed the border. Completely unaware of this decision, Maxwell ordered the army to break camp on the morning of the 24 November 1542, crossed the River Esk at Langholm, entered the Debatable Lands and headed south towards Carlisle.


The English had expected the invasion in the east and had deployed the bulk of their available forces at Berwick. By contrast there were only limited forces in the west especially as the post of Warden of the West March was vacant following the death of Henry Clifford, Earl of Cumberland earlier that year. The defence of the area fell to his deputy, Sir Thomas Wharton, who was located in Carlisle Castle – a formidable border fortress that would have provided a safe haven against any attack. The King’s Council acknowledged his plight and on 21 August issued orders that he should simply harass the Scots and attack their supply lines. Wharton however was an experienced commander and not one to cower behind the strong walls of Carlisle. He was also confident in the abilities of his small cavalry force, armed mainly with lances, which was ideal for hit-and-run tactics against a larger army.

The Scots, still under Lord Maxwell at this time, significantly outnumbered the English; by the most conservative assessment they had a 5 to 1 advantage.

The battle

Despite only having a small force, as soon as the Scottish army advanced into the Debatable Lands, Wharton moved against them. He deployed his infantry on Hopesike Hill straddling the road south and thus blocking the way to Carlisle. Relative to the flat lands of the surrounding area, the slight rise of Hopesike Hill was a good position especially as it was strengthened by the Hall Burn which was directly in front of his troops.  With the infantry deployed he sent Sir William Musgrave, with 500 mounted lancers, to harry the Scottish forces. Maxwell deployed his forces in three main battles and advanced towards the English.

Change of command

As the Scottish army deployed for battle, Sinclair informed Maxwell that he was taking command of the army on the orders of King James V. The announcement led to chaos across the Scottish ranks as some troops remained loyal to Maxwell whilst others supported Sinclair. Command and control in the Scottish army broke down at the same moment that Musgrave started repeated hit-and-run tactics with his mounted lancers.

Failure of leadership

Although Musgrave’s attacks did not inflict many casualties amongst the Scottish ranks, the repeated assaults disordered the left flank and caused them to slew towards the centre. With the army’s leaders embroiled in the power struggle between Maxwell and Sinclair, no instructions were issued to steady the line or to reconfigure against the threat. Instead, Musgrave’s repeated charges meant the entire Scottish force shifted pushing those on the far right of the line into a bog defusing their advance and causing significant disorder.

English infantry advance

From his viewpoint on Hopesike Hill, Wharton could see the chaos unfolding in the Scottish camp. Hoping to capitalize on the situation, he advanced his infantry to Arthuret Howe, another small hillock overlooking the road. The forward movement of the English forces was interpreted by the Scots as an English Vanguard advancing as a precursor to a larger army. Had the Scottish leadership been united it is probable they could have rallied their troops. However leaderless and confused, cohesion of the Scottish forces started to break as many dropped their weapons and fled back towards the River Esk.

Scottish reserve.

Morale amongst the remaining Scots quickly collapsed and soon their entire army was retreating in a general rout with their artillery and baggage abandoned. They fled back north towards the fording point over the River Esk (in vicinity of modern day Longtown) pursued by Musgrave’s lancers. Scottish casualties during the battle had been minimal, perhaps as few as twenty, but as the retreating troops attempted to cross the river hundreds drowned. A further 1,200 were captured including Maxwell and Sinclair. English losses were quoted by Wharton as being just seven men; it was unlikely to have been significantly more given the English infantry were never engaged.


James V, still ill with fever, withdrew to Falkland Palace where the humiliated King lamented the capture of Lord Sinclair. On the 14 December 1542, three weeks after the battle, James succumbed to his fever leaving an infant daughter – Mary, Queen of Scots – as his heir. Allegedly he felt his dynasty was on the cusp of ending – for he commented that the House of Stewart (Stuart) “came with a lass and will go with a lass”. Whilst his dynasty would actually endure until 1714, when Queen Anne died, in the immediate term it meant the nearest surviving male successor to the Scottish throne was Henry VIII of England. This was not lost on the English and the War of the Rough Wooing followed.

Courtesy of  https://battlefieldsofbritain.co.uk/

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My Poetry. The busy Garden.

What grows in this garden “O” mine? 
Tulips, Daffodils, sprigs of thyme,
Hollyhocks, scented stock, colours of green,
Plants and flowers rarely seen,
Bee’s and butterflies hovering around,
Oblivious to humanity and every sound,
What beasts do pray in this forest of fun?
When the light goes out and the sun goes down?
Badgers, foxes, cats and mice,
Wander the vastness, throw the dice
Plundering, raking, searching around,
For scraps of food, nothing found!
In the morning sun flowers come alive,
The bee’s all buzzin, in the active hive,
The garden so sweet in the heat of the day,
With the cloudless Blue sky, and the hottest sunray,
It’s all a part of a wondrous sight,
The gardeners' dream, a Farmers delight.
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My Poetry. Lest we Forget.

They fought without a care 
For their own precious life
Leaving at home their families
Brothers sisters and wife.
They did not have a choice
Humanity was almost expired
By the murderous unfeeling fascists
Who's guns had fired and fired.
How could one man have such influence?
How could people be taken in?
Shouting his odds in crowds
Saying he would win.
Soldiers of many nations
Died to bring us peace
There was no racist imbalance
No one was ever fleeced.
When our Soldiers fought and died
Some of them did come home
From Countries, they had fought in
From France, Poland, and Rome.
As we honour our heroes
we watch them die in vain
Some of them are homeless
Others die in the rain.
Then some die with hunger
Or cannot use their fuel
How could this happen
How can we be so cruel?
If you have the money you're alright
Be you poor then we don’t care
Just give us all your money dude
Hey, ho mate life ain't fair.
So when we sit in our comfy homes
A war hero is under a bridge
When you pull your 4 pack out
From your well-stocked electric fridge.
A man or woman who fought for us
To give us this easy life
Is disrespected or laughed at
It cuts as deep as a knife.
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My Poetry. Brexit has seen him out!

He did not die of Hunger 
Nor was it the bottle of booze
The drugs they did not do for him
It wasn’t even the cruise.
The poor guy he was healthy
Just the other day
He knelt at the side of bed as usual
And he began to pray.
He prayed for his family
All his friends, and foes
He even prayed for his Goldfish
And all his Hamsters toes.
So how did this man pass away
They say he was fit and well
It was a shock to everyone
As his funeral crowd would tell.
They say he passed with the TV on
Boris Johnston on repeat
All that could be heard that day
Was another parliamentary defeat.
The poor man couldn’t take it
Brexit had taken its toll
His heart had finally given way
With all the rigmarole.

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My Poetry. My time has come.

He crossed the path he wanted to
and was able to feel anew
comfort and love surrounded him
No more feelings of blue.
The most he expected was happiness
the least remembering his past
but surprising himself he felt no pain
And the hope that this would last.
Seeing the clouds silky white
Floating on a cushion of air
the light was so invitingly sweet
Sickly as a ripened pear.
Dropped off gently he looked around
Everything placed as he dreamed
Coloured flowers blooming everywhere
As his face lit up, it beamed.
Paradise found life just beginning
as flashbacks filled his mind
Temptation vivid pictures were real
And everyone was so kind.
No place for hatred racism or war
Everything rose-coloured and clear
Children playing everywhere
No one is full of fear.
Nightingales singing in a melodic tune
Trees whispering lightly in the breeze
No animals caged, running free
Do as you like or please.
Waking up with a smile on your face
Each new day brought with sunshine
This place I now proudly call my home
Is full of happiness and love, and it's mine.

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My Poetry. Brexit , We want the end.

Brexit this Brexit that
It's becoming a bloody joke
All you feel is numbness
And someone you want to choke.
In out its all a bloody pest
Nothing else seems to matter
We need to give it a rest.
The World is laughing at us
A country that once was admired
Now we are a talking point
And someone should be fired.
We voted to leave the EU
There was no other choices that day
17.5 million voters
Wanted it that way.
The choices were very simple
It was stay or leave that’s it
Now the do-gooders want another vote
No, thank you we want to sit.
So if the decision is overturned
Then Democracy was not fulfilled!
Get this done and pretty quick
As the People seriously willed.
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My Poetry. Dismantled Nest.

Fly high little one 
it's time to go on your own 
time to see the world out there 
Now that you have fully grown. 
Make mistakes, try out life 
You're a certainty to fall on your face 
try to live a happy life 
And never fall from grace. 
Treat all people
as you treat yourself
respect costs nothing to you
help the unfortunate heal the sick
Comfort friends who are true.
Remember your family here at home
when times get rough or hard
always know your parents are here
To pick up the pieces if your scarred.
The nest is dismantled, apron strings cut
you need to find yourself
the storms of life will blow on you
To Knock you from the shelf.
Fulfil your goal little one
success is waiting out there
all you need is a little love
On a wing and much earned prayer.
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Famous Scots . James Watt.

James Watt (1736–1819) was a Scottish inventor, mechanical engineer and chemist. He is famous for developing a separate condensing chamber for the steam engine. This invention greatly improved the efficiency of the steam engine and played a considerable role in advancing the role of steam engines in the Industrial Revolution.

He was born in Greenock, Scotland on 18 January 1736. Initially, Watt worked as a maker of mathematical instruments but later found himself working with steam engines.

Around 1764, Watt was given a Newcomen steam engine to repair. He realized it was very inefficient because energy was repeatedly being used to heat the cylinder. He decided to try to invent a more efficient alternative, and he worked on a model which caused steam to condense inside a separate chamber apart from the piston. He soon had a working model and by 1775 had a patent. Though Watt was not adept at business, he was able to form a successful partnership with Matthew Boulton. Boulton & Watt became a successful company leasing the design and later producing these new steam engines for a variety of purposes from mining (especially Cornish tin mines) to cloth and wool manufacture. Over the next six years, he made a number of other improvements to the steam engine and the business thrived as orders flooded in.

Watt also made other important discoveries and inventions. These included a copying machine and an improved production method for chlorine, a bleaching agent.

After his fortune enabled him to retire, he pursued a wide variety of interests from improving oil lamps to measuring distances with a telescope.

He died on 25 August 1819, aged 83.

The development of an efficient steam engine transformed industry and society. It helped Great Britain become the world’s first industrialised society leading to an unprecedented pace of economic growth.

Citation: Pettinger, Tejvan. Biography of James Watt,

Oxford, www.biographyonline.net 23rd May 2010. Updated 27th September 2017

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Blog/Web Promotions.(GP Cox )

GP Cox .

Dear friends.
Sometimes you stumble upon a brilliant Blog, and Today I would like to share one of my fellow Bloggers Blog, GP. COX.
As you probably guessed GP posts about the Military, his Blog is interesting and well worth a visit.
Here is a small sample of his work.


When Ben Reise went to enlist in the military in 1942 during World War II, his future wife, Ruth Fern Gibb, went with him. The two had grown up together in Chicago, meeting in grammar school.

Ben Reise tried to enlist in the Navy, but they told him that he was too short at 5 feet, 4 inches, Ruth Reise said. Next, he went to the Army, which “took him right away.”

At the same time, Ben enlisted, Ruth was also offered a job. Her height – 5 feet even – made her the perfect size to climb into aeroplane gas tanks to secure the rivets. Soon after, she began working at the Douglas Aircraft manufacturing plant, on the site where O’Hare International Airport is today.

From 1942 to 1945, Douglas manufactured 655 C-54 Skymasters, a military transport aircraft, at the Chicago plant. A photo from the Chicago Tribune’s archive shows that the opening of the gas tank on the C-54 was just 13 inches tall and nine inches wide.

“I told [the recruiters], ‘I don’t have any claustrophobia so that will be fine,’” Ruth Reise, now 92, said.

Please support our fellow Bloggers and visit them.
Have a nice day..


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Blog/Web Promotions.(The Bloggers Blotter.)

The Bloggers Blotter.

I am starting my new promotional page with a dear friend of mine.

Mary has been writing for many Years, her poetry won her awards when she was a part of BWOP.

Please visit Mary and give her your support.


A sample of Mary’s work.

The Rape of the Condom

The hour was late

.If ONLY he was asleep – not awake.

It lay there, helpless…unfolded, draped

He took that condom and left a tear that GAPED

Yes! It is true –That condom HAD been raped!!!!

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My Published Books.

Hello friends.

I have been lucky enough to have a book published professionally, and I am delighted. When I ran a poetry website I decided to try to publish my own books through Lulu.com.

During the site success, I also published books with the members of the site, which was a very rewarding thing to do.

All the profit from all the books sold was given to Cancer Research UK.

Please visit my Published book page and my Published with friends page.

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Scottish Architecture. National War Museum.

The museum was opened in 1933, becoming the first war museum in Great Britain. It is housed in an old warehouse from 1755. The tickets for this historic building are free when purchased with an Edinburgh Castle ticket.

The National War Museum, situated within Edinburgh Castle, is Scotland’s national war museum reflecting over 400 years of Scotland at war, which due to its strategic position, has suffered through many years of conflict. Visitors will be taken back in time to the beginning of the seventeenth century.
As with any other military museum, the National War Museum includes paintings of battles, weapons, armour and other items from various periods.
The museum’s collection features, as well as the typical military items, traditional Scottish clothing worn during the battles, personal items belonging to the soldiers, and letters sent home from the battlegrounds on distant lands.
There is also a section dedicated to World War II and the importance of the women’s role during the various conflicts. Note that women rebuilt entire cities such as Berlin.
A definite must
Edinburgh’s National War Museum is located within Edinburgh Castle and is a definite must.
Just outside the museum, you’ll find other exhibitions related to the same topic: The Royal Scots Regimental Museum, which shows the Infantry uniforms and The Regimental Museum of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards, dedicated to the cavalry.

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Public Poetry. Rudyard Kipling.


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs
and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about,
don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to,
broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 
"Hold on!"If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! 
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My Poetry. Die by the Knife.

He stands with a hole in his side
blood spurts over his pride
Puzzlingly wondering why me?
On display for the World to see.

This time yesterday he loved life
2 grown kids and a loving wife, 
employed full time in a security job
His dad taught him, “don’t be a slob”.
He feels his life draining away
Nobody bothered, nothing to say.
The sky has bluebirds singing sweetly
Buildings are uniformed, formatted neatly. 
His eyes are beginning to close,
his life flashes quickly, blood from his nose,
One mistake and he ended up here,
struggling for life, surrounded by fear.
But did he deserve this outcome today
regretting the temptations among the foray,
As he closes his eyes, his final breath,
not ready to go, dodging his death.
Then he sees a light, he is beckoned to go
While he misses his family and little bro.
No one deserves to die this way,
hand in the knives and live for today.


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Public Poetry. Emily Dickenson.

Because I could not stop for Death.

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away My labor,
and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school,Where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries,
and yet each Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
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Public Poetry. Henry Scott Holland.

Death is nothing at all.

Death is nothing at all. 
It does not count. 
I have only slipped away into the next room. 
Nothing has happened. 

Everything remains exactly as it was.
 am I, and you are you, 
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. 
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. 

Call me by the old familiar name. 
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. 
Put no difference into your tone. 
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. 
Let my name be ever the household word that it was always. 
Let it be spoken without an effort,

without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. 
It is the same as it ever was. 
There is absolute and unbroken continuity. 
What is this death but a negligible accident?

 Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? 
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, 
somewhere very near, 
just around the corner. All is well. 
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. 
One brief moment and all will be as it was before. 
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

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My Poetry. Old age.

Why do we grow old and vain? 
Complain about the economy? 
Mumble about the rain? 
Suffer from sore joints 
hardly get around 
trying not to stumble 
Struggling with Sounds. 
Running after children 
bailing out our kids 
vacuuming the carpets 
Pots without their lids!
Having to mind the steps
just in case you fall
memories so vivid
Getting harder to recall.
Standing in long lines
for money, we are due
worried what's on the tele
Sometimes feeling blue!
Sleeping every moment
you sit down on a chair
wondering why your old
And do people really care!
Chatting to the Neighbours
having tea all day
hoping as you age
You still have things to say!
Old age has its good points
I can name a few
sophistication and elegance
The ability to chew.
Honour and respect are
ultimately yours
playing with your grandchildren
Travelling on tours.
Educating young folks
giving them a chance
playing them old records
Bursting into dance.
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Public Poetry. What is the point?

When things go wrong as they sometimes will 
When the road you‘re trudging seems all uphill
When funds are low and debts are high
You want to smile but you often sigh.
When care is pressing you down a bit
Rest if you must but do not quit
Life is queer with its twists and turns
As each and every one of us sometimes learns
As many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out
Don't give up though the pace seems slow
You may succeed with another blow.
success is failure turned inside out
The silver tint of a cloud of doubt
You never can tell how close you are

It may be near but seems so far.
Stick to the fight when you’re the hardest hit

It's when things seem worse

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Public Poetry. Dylan Thomas

Light breaks were no sun shines.

Light breaks where no sun shines; 
Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart 
Push in their tides; 
And, broken ghosts with glow-worms in their heads, 
the things of light. 
File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones. 
A candle in the thighs 
Warms youth and seed and burns the seeds of age;
Where no seed stirs,
The fruit of man unwrinkles in the stars,
Bright as a fig;
Where no wax is, the candle shows its hairs.
Dawn breaks behind the eyes;
From poles of skull and toe the windy blood
Slides like a sea;
Nor fenced, nor staked, the gushers of the sky
Spout to the rod
Divining in a smile the oil of tears.
Night in the sockets rounds,
Like some pitch moon, the limit of the globes;
Day lights the bone;
Where no cold is, the skinning gales unpin
The winter’s robes;
The film of spring is hanging from the lids.
Light breaks on secret lots,
On tips of thought where thoughts smell in the rain;
When logics dies,
The secret of the soil grows through the eye,
And blood jumps in the sun;
Above the waste allotments the dawn halts.

Please send me a Poem for my Public Page.

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My Poetry. What do you see?

What do you see 
when you look at me
A man who is happy
Living life, carefree.
I am not homeless
poor or unhealthy
Life is good
And in realty I'm wealthy.
I am not in a war
starving and forlorn
looking for shelter
Wishing I wasn't born.
Living in democracy
not fearing each day
In a Country that's safe
in its own special way.
No fear for my children
They will survive
no brother has been killed
They are all alive.
Scared to waken up
to a brand-new day
explosions the norm
In the brutal foray.
No Screaming children
when you open your door
no man or woman
Dead on the floor.
Food is a plenty
in our cosy domain
we take it for granted
Just like the rain.
Thank your lucky stars
you face no pain
Thousands are suffering
In the main.
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Scotland and its History. Edinburgh Castle.

When I lived in Edinburgh I was about a 10-minute walk away from this glorious landmark. It is simply beautiful and the views are exceptional from the castle keep.

Staying on the theme of History, I was lucky, I grew up in a Historical City boasting many things to see, all within walking distance, today I am going to talk about  Edinburgh Castle.

edinburgh castle


I visited the Castle a few times in my youth but never really appreciated it in its entirety and beauty, we all imagine it as a centre piece for post cards, someone visits Edinburgh, and they are sure to send you a post card with the Castle being the attraction, but what do you know about it?
My first job leaving school was in Edinburgh Castle, I was 15, lucky to get my National Insurance card because I had not quite officially left school, so I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to start, thankfully it all worked out in the end.

I worked in the tourist cafe for one year, yes not the most interesting jobs in the world but it was, the folks I met the stories I was told was unbelievable because having lived in the City all my life and being a young guy I thought I knew everything about the City History but how wrong one can be. Edinburgh castle is as old as 340 million years when it was first created out of volcanic rock, it became a fortress around AD 600 it was first called “Din Eidyn A fortress on the rock.

The ownership of the castle was to and from Scotland and England Edward 1rst captured it around 1296, then the Scots reclaimed it under “Robert the Bruce” then the English and again the Scots lol a lot of battles over a castle. In 1326 David the second rebuilt the castle and died in it around 1371. The tower in the castle was named after him. In 1457 the huge Gun, cannon called “mons meg” arrived then James the fourth built the great Hall.

In 1494 the sceptre and the Sword of state were presented to James the fourth by the then popes of Rome, finally the crown was made and presented to James the fifth. In 1571 there was a land siege and Davids tower was demolished in the battle. In 1574 the castle was again reconstructed and other defences put in place to make it more secure and ready for any battles which may ensue.

In 1615 the palace is renovated to celebrate the fiftieth year of reign of King James the fifth of Scotland.
In 1633 King Charles was the last monarch to sleep in the castle before his coronation.In 1650 Oliver Cromwell took over the castle after the execution of Charles 1rst.In 1651 the crown and sceptre belonging to the former King are buried in Kincardineshire so Cromwell would not get his hands on it.In 1689 forces loyal to the exiled James V11 tried to take back the Castle from the then sovereigns William and Mary but were defeated.In 1715 The third rebellion of the Jacobite army nearly break through the castles defences.


In 1745 “Prince Charles” “bonnie Prince Charlie” and his fifth Jacobite rebellion fail again to penetrate and capture the castle and this was the last siege against the castle.

Now this is a part I had no idea about….

The seven-year War American war of Independence, the French revolutionary war and the Napoleonic wars ALL prisoners were held in Edinburgh Castle did YOU know that?
In 1818 a monument was made for Sir Walter Scott famous Scot novelist and put on display. In 1822 George IV visits the castle the first monarch to do so in 189 years. In 1829 “Mons Meg” is returned to the castle from London. In 1861 was the first ever “one o’clock gun” signal, still going today every day at 1pm… In 1887 the castle is regenerated and modernized by a famous architect.

In 1927 the National war museum is opened.In 1941 the treasures of the castle are buried in case of German occupation.In 1950 Edinburgh Castle hosts its first MILITARY TATTOO and is still going today a must-see if you visit Edinburgh.In 1996 the “stone of destiny is returned to the castle” and is now on displaying in 1998 the Castle is deemed as the most important building in Scottish heritage. Edinburgh Castle boasts 1.25 million visitors a year, wow, that’s a lot of people.

Edinburgh Castle has played a pivotal role in Scottish history, both as a royal residence – King Malcolm Canmore (r 1058–93) and Queen Margaret first made their home here in the 11th century – and as a military stronghold. The castle last saw military action in 1745; from then until the 1920s it served as the British army’s main base in Scotland. Today it is one of Scotland’s most atmospheric and popular tourist attractions.

The brooding, black crags of Castle Rock, rising above the western end of Princes St, are the very reason for Edinburgh’s existence. This rocky hill was the most easily defended hilltop on the invasion route between England and central Scotland, a route followed by countless armies from the Roman legions of the 1st and 2nd centuries AD to the Jacobite troops of Bonnie Prince Charlie in 174

The Entrance Gateway, flanked by statues of Robert the Bruce and William Wallace, opens to a cobbled lane that leads up beneath the 16th-century Portcullis Gate to the cannons ranged along the Argyle and Mills Mount Batteries. The battlements here have great views over the New Town to the Firth of Forth.

At the far end of Mills Mount Battery is the famous One O’clock Gun, where crowds gather to watch a gleaming WWII 25-pounder fire an ear-splitting time signal at exactly 1pm (every day except Sundays, Christmas Day and Good Friday).

South of Mills Mount, the road curls up leftwards through Foog’s Gate to the highest part of Castle Rock, crowned by the tiny, Romanesque St Margaret’s Chapel, the oldest surviving building in Edinburgh. It was probably built by David I or Alexander I in memory of their mother, Queen Margaret, sometime around 1130 (she was canonized in 1250). Beside the chapel stands Mons Meg, a giant 15th-century siege gun built at Mons (in what is now Belgium) in 1449.

The main group of buildings on the summit of Castle Rock is ranged around Crown Sq, dominated by the shrine of the Scottish National War Memorial. The opposite is the Great Hall, built for James IV (r 1488–1513) as a ceremonial hall and used as a meeting place for the Scottish parliament until 1639. Its most remarkable feature is the original, 16th-century hammer-beam roof.

The Castle Vaults beneath the Great Hall (entered via the Prisons of War exhibit) were used variously as storerooms, bakeries and a prison. The vaults have been renovated to resemble 18th- and early 19th-century prisons, where graffiti carved by French and American prisoners can be seen on the ancient wooden doors.

On the eastern side of the square is the Royal Palace, built during the 15th and 16th centuries, where a series of historical tableaux leads to the highlight of the castle: a strongroom housing the Honours of Scotland (the Scottish crown jewels), among the oldest surviving crown jewels in Europe. Locked away in a chest following the Act of Union in 1707, the crown (made in 1540 from the gold of Robert the Bruce’s 14th-century coronet), sword and sceptre lay forgotten until they were unearthed at the instigation of novelist Sir Walter Scott in 1818. Also on display here is the Stone of Destiny.

Among the neighbouring Royal Flats is the bedchamber where Mary, Queen of Scots, gave birth to her son James VI, who was to unite the crowns of Scotland and England in 1603.

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Public Poetry. Robert Burns.

To a Mouse.

0n Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough,
November, 1785

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee,
Wi’ murdering pattle
I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion
An’ fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave
‘S a sma’ requet;
I’ll get a blessin wi’ the lave,
An’ never miss’t!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s win’s ensuing,
Baith snell an’ keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste,
An’ weary Winter comin fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro’ thy cell.

That wee bit heap o’ leaves and stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turned out, for a’ thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the Winter’s sleety dribble,
An’ cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

Still thou are blest, compared wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward, tho’ I cannot see,
I guess an’ fear!

Robert Burns Scottish poet and Bard

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Scottish Battles. Battle of Aberdeen II .

The Covenanter government of Scotland had allied itself with the English parliament and had entered the war in England in early 1644, the Scottish army having a dramatic impact in the campaign for the north of England. In response, following the royalist’s dramatic defeat at Marston Moor (Yorkshire, July 1644), the King appointed the Marquis of Montrose as his military commander in Scotland. On 28th August 1644 Montrose raised the royal standard and with little more than 2000 troops fought a campaign in which he was to win a series of dramatic successes in the Highlands against the Covenanter forces.

Montrose began a campaign intended to present such a threat to the Covenanter government that they would have to recall Leven’s Scottish army from England, and thus swing the balance of the war there back in the royalist favour. In Scotland, he might even, in the long run, manage to topple the government and install a regime favourable to the king. Montrose’s first objective was to establish a secure territorial base upon which he could sustain a long campaign.

Though outnumbered, his forces achieved their first victory at Tibbermore. This forced the government to recall some but not the bulk of the army from England, and other troops from Ireland.

From Tibbermore the royalists marched east towards Dundee but were rebuffed, and so they pressed on towards the government-controlled city of Aberdeen. Various local forces had been called to Aberdeen in early September to counter the threat from Montrose and, though not all turned out, the Covenanter army was the larger of the two forces. However, they were inexperienced and poorly led, providing Montrose with the opportunity for another victory.

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Public Poetry. Emily Dickinson.

I heard a fly Buzz.

Emily Dickinson, 1830 – 1886

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –  
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air –  
Between the Heaves of Storm –
The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –  
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset – when the King
Be witnessed – in the Room – 
I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away
What portions of me be
Assignable – and then it was
There interposed a Fly – 
With Blue – uncertain stumbling Buzz –  
Between the light – and me –  
And then the Windows failed – and then

I could not see to see –


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