Rob Roy MacGregor Campbell
The '45
Extracts of Statistics from the Annexed Estates for Western Strathearn (1755-56)
The Reports of the Annexed Estates (1755-69)
A Tour of Scotland - Observations
Seismic Activity (1789)
Account of 1791-99 vol-11 - Comrie, County of Perth
Archibald MacNab (1734-1816)
Henry Dundas (1742-1811)
Sir David Baird of Seringapatam (1757-1829)
Companion and Useful Guide to the Beauties of Scotland – Sarah Murray (1799)
Roman Camp, Dalginross – October (1800)
Flash from the Caledonian Mercury – September (1814)
I've a Boat to Catch (1818)
A Picture of Strathearn - John Brown (1823)
St Fillan’s Highland Society (1827)
Letters from the Distant Past (1831 - 1859)
Comrie, St Fillans and Monivard (1837)
Statistical Account: Parish of Comrie (1838)
The Glen Lednock Census (1841)
The Queen’s Visit (1842)
The Road to Comrie (1857)
For the Sake of Nelly Fergus (1860)
From an Unknown Guidebook-circa (1892)
Comrie (1895)
Tales of Derring Do
Soldier, Soldier, won’t you marry me wi’…
The Adventures of Paddy or Highland Peter
Ghoulie Tales
A Serious Business
Mail Order Bride
The Man with the Powerful Voice
Double Entry bookkeeping
Hey, Gie’s ma Haun…or Murder Most Foul
Kate Mackenzie's Terrible Deeds
Watty and Meg Drummond
The Fencibles
Deacon Reid
Amazing Grace
The Day of the Penny Wedding
The MacArthur's were there before the Hills
The Beggar's Badge
A Pane by any other name can be a Pain!
The Powder Keg
The Coo didnae hae ony Teeth!
The Green Lady of Glen Lednock
The Queen of Tynasithe
The Great Wall of Comrie
Whisky, You're the Devil
A Wee Rumble
A Whale of a Time
An Encounter of the Third Kind
Another Debate
Bosom Pals
Getting Stoned in Comrie
Hanging about Comrie
It's Whisky in the Jar
Picking Other Folks' Brains
Porridge for Breakfast
Tarred and Buttered
The Convert
The Debate
The Schism
The Levitation
The Twa' Brithers
There’s a Hare in my Soup
Yer bum's oot the Window

18th & 19th Century

Deacon Reid

Deacon Reid lived on the East side of the river Lednock almost opposite Watty’s house. The Deacon was a tenant of the woollen mill which belonged to the Laird of Comrie. It was a small affair located beside the bridge over the river. The work undertaken in it was mainly carding the wool which was then spun by the local folk. Most of the women in the district were acquainted with the details of spinning, whether of wool or lint, but during the winter months it was a large part of their work. After the wool clipping the wool mill was kept very busy but during the summer it was quieter and the Deacon found he had plenty of time on his hands.

It was about this time that Comrie was feued and Deacon Reid was chosen by the Laird of Comrie to measure all the feus. When the Deacon started to measure the land yard at 36 inches some of the people who were getting feus persuaded him that the proper thing to do was to give them 37 inches and a nail. This the Deacon did and the result was that when disputes between feurs arose due to encroachment on one another’s feus and a measurer brought in, it showed that both parties had more land than was shown in the feu charter!

One of the Deacon’s friends was the Reverend Samuel Gilfillan, the Minister of the Presbyterian Church, a man with no easy job but, like most Ministers, enjoyed a good joke. One Sunday he chose for his sermon a passage on “the Prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience.” Being a great orator his discourse was eloquent. Several days later a terrific wind and rain storm passed through the village, damaging many of the thatched roofs of the cottages and barns. The most damaged building was the barn owned by the good Minister where it was almost blown off its walls. After the storm was over and most folk had started to help each other fix the damage, the Minister met the Deacon and said, “How is it, Deacon, that my barn roof has been so badly damaged compared with the other roofs in the place?” The Deacon replied, “I doubt you are yourself to blame for a good deal of it.” Reverend Gilfillan asked how that could be and the Deacon replied, “Weel, sir, you had a gey day on Sabbath running down the Prince o’ the power o’ the air, and you see noo what you hae made of it.” The only comment from the Minister was, “Oh, Deacon, Deacon!”

A man came through the village one day selling medicines and called upon the Deacon urging him to buy some of his potions. At that time there was a rash going about the district and many were afflicted and it appeared that the medicine man showed signs of it on his face so the Deacon said, “Physician, heal thyself.”

The Deacon had a splendid garden and orchard with the orchard being the envy of the village boys. There was a splendid variety of apple, pear and plum and in the summertime they were loaded down with fruit. One day some of the village lads persuaded the Deacon’s son, Tom, to go into the orchard and bring them some apples and they would watch outside to give a signal if someone came along. Tom went into the orchard and was doing his best to get the apples when the signal was given as the deacon was approaching. Tom came sauntering towards his pals with his hands in his pockets in a rather careless fashion. When his father saw him he at once charged him, Tom, have you been at my apples?” but Tom said, “No me faither; I dinna care for apples.” The Deacon replied, “Maybe, but I hae me doots aboot ye, Tammy, my man.” When Tom rejoined his companions who had witnessed the encounter from a safe distance he said, “I told my faither I didna like apples, but, fegs, I wish I had a ton o’ them!”

One day the Deacon caught Johnnie Miller, the toll keeper’s son, in one of his apple trees. Johnnie was seen as a little soft in the head and sometimes did things that showed he was not like the other village lads. The Deacon took Johnnie to his home and looking at him sternly in the face, said, “Whether am I to throw you over the Lednock Brig, Johnnie, or am I to take you to your home and tell your father about you?” Johnnie looked at the Deacon in the most innocent way and said, “Onyway you like Deacon, its death at any rate!” The Deacon was so tickled with Johnnie’s answer that he had a hearty laugh to himself, and allowed Johnnie to go free and gave him several apples, after exacting a promise that Johnnie would never pinch his apples again... and he never did!