Believe it or not
Aug 5, 2016 10:35:34 GMT
Post by meganl on Aug 5, 2016 10:35:34 GMT
I discovered this morning I am turning into my father, Now that is scary for a lot of reasons not least that I am a lassie . This frightening discovery was made this morning when I woke with a story floating around in my head. Personally I blame it on my American friends who are Viking reenactors eagerly awaiting Battlemoor the big event of their year and my big brother who is looking forward to visiting the Largs Viking festival.
The true story of the battle of Largs
The Battle of Largs took place on the 2nd of October 1263, for many years Scottish historians claimed this as a great victory which led to the Scots King Alexander banishing the Vikings from the Islands on the Clyde coast. Modern historians say the battle was indecisive and try to play down what happened that day.
Now I heard this story in the Horseshoe bar in Glasgow from a wee man who swore on his mithers dumpling that it wis a true story cause wan o his ancestors wis ther.
You see what happened was this , the big jobs had had a bit of a do on the beach but neither side won so they both walked of tae have a rethink. This ended up wie the big jobs deciding they would both go home and tell their folk they wis victorious.
Alexander gathered his folk and headed of back tae the east coast swearin he widny leave hame again unless they had a decent castle he could stay at. Even in those days tourists experienced problems wie the plumbing they just couldny tell the world since tripadvisor hadn't been invented yet.
We aw ken those Viking had a drouth on them like a miner on payday so after Alexander left they decided to repair to a local hostelry in Largs. The Landlady welcomed them in with open arms Viking tourists were known to be big spenders especially in local ale houses though they had a reputation of being a bit rowdy. They crowded in and as the ale flowed they began boasting (as men are wont to do) about how they routed the King and his army.
Since Largs is on the west coast that might not have been as dangerous as you might have thought there wisny ower much love lost between west and east, even today a Glaswegian will tell you the best thing in Edinburgh is platform 14 from which the train to Glasgow leaves.
That night however they were headed for disaster ye see a wee bunch o Glaisca nyaffs (somewhat troublesome natives of Glasgow) Wee Malky, Big Shuggie, Tam the bam, Horrace Broon and my informants ancestor Rab macCludgie. They had paddled doon the Clyde fur a rerr terr(a great day out)stopping at any alehouse they could find near the shore and there wis a fair few even in those distant times.
And so it was the stage was set for the real battle of Largs. A big bruiser Thorfinn Olafsonn was staggering up to the bar to get in his round when he bumped into Tam and made him spill his ale, now that was a crime that could not go unavenged. Tam wisny the brightest candle in the box but he knew this great insult had to be repayed so he gied Thorfin a wee skelp it wisny his fault he wis still holding the oar from the wee boat they had arrived in.
The Vikings, almost as ready fur a rumble as the Glaswegians set to with a will but Torquil the Bard made the mistake of grabbin Wee Malky by the throat and lifting him up fully intending to throw him at the other Glaswegians. I tell you now my friends never try to lift a small Glaswegian it only enables them to reach things nature never intended them to reach. Malky objected to being raised from his normal five foot from the ground and pit the hems on Torquil ever singing in anything other than soprano much to the disgust of his long suffering wife when he finally made it home.
Horrace grabbed one o the Viking shields whit hid been laid against the wall and while his pals wisely took cover under a table he began tae dance. His steps while an artistic mix of Nureyev and Flatley
Were accompanied by hand work many a modern highland dancer would be envious of cut a swathe through the Viking tourists.
The battle that ensued would have gone all night if Big Aggie the Proprietor of the Hostelry haden’t shouted (She would stand in for the foghorn at the Cloch lighthouse on her days off.) shouted Have sent fur the Polis. Out of the one door tumble the Vikings while Wee Malky and his pals slipped oot the back and headed fur hame each swearing they had won the battle of Largs.
The true story of the battle of Largs
The Battle of Largs took place on the 2nd of October 1263, for many years Scottish historians claimed this as a great victory which led to the Scots King Alexander banishing the Vikings from the Islands on the Clyde coast. Modern historians say the battle was indecisive and try to play down what happened that day.
Now I heard this story in the Horseshoe bar in Glasgow from a wee man who swore on his mithers dumpling that it wis a true story cause wan o his ancestors wis ther.
You see what happened was this , the big jobs had had a bit of a do on the beach but neither side won so they both walked of tae have a rethink. This ended up wie the big jobs deciding they would both go home and tell their folk they wis victorious.
Alexander gathered his folk and headed of back tae the east coast swearin he widny leave hame again unless they had a decent castle he could stay at. Even in those days tourists experienced problems wie the plumbing they just couldny tell the world since tripadvisor hadn't been invented yet.
We aw ken those Viking had a drouth on them like a miner on payday so after Alexander left they decided to repair to a local hostelry in Largs. The Landlady welcomed them in with open arms Viking tourists were known to be big spenders especially in local ale houses though they had a reputation of being a bit rowdy. They crowded in and as the ale flowed they began boasting (as men are wont to do) about how they routed the King and his army.
Since Largs is on the west coast that might not have been as dangerous as you might have thought there wisny ower much love lost between west and east, even today a Glaswegian will tell you the best thing in Edinburgh is platform 14 from which the train to Glasgow leaves.
That night however they were headed for disaster ye see a wee bunch o Glaisca nyaffs (somewhat troublesome natives of Glasgow) Wee Malky, Big Shuggie, Tam the bam, Horrace Broon and my informants ancestor Rab macCludgie. They had paddled doon the Clyde fur a rerr terr(a great day out)stopping at any alehouse they could find near the shore and there wis a fair few even in those distant times.
And so it was the stage was set for the real battle of Largs. A big bruiser Thorfinn Olafsonn was staggering up to the bar to get in his round when he bumped into Tam and made him spill his ale, now that was a crime that could not go unavenged. Tam wisny the brightest candle in the box but he knew this great insult had to be repayed so he gied Thorfin a wee skelp it wisny his fault he wis still holding the oar from the wee boat they had arrived in.
The Vikings, almost as ready fur a rumble as the Glaswegians set to with a will but Torquil the Bard made the mistake of grabbin Wee Malky by the throat and lifting him up fully intending to throw him at the other Glaswegians. I tell you now my friends never try to lift a small Glaswegian it only enables them to reach things nature never intended them to reach. Malky objected to being raised from his normal five foot from the ground and pit the hems on Torquil ever singing in anything other than soprano much to the disgust of his long suffering wife when he finally made it home.
Horrace grabbed one o the Viking shields whit hid been laid against the wall and while his pals wisely took cover under a table he began tae dance. His steps while an artistic mix of Nureyev and Flatley
Were accompanied by hand work many a modern highland dancer would be envious of cut a swathe through the Viking tourists.
The battle that ensued would have gone all night if Big Aggie the Proprietor of the Hostelry haden’t shouted (She would stand in for the foghorn at the Cloch lighthouse on her days off.) shouted Have sent fur the Polis. Out of the one door tumble the Vikings while Wee Malky and his pals slipped oot the back and headed fur hame each swearing they had won the battle of Largs.