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Updated: June 8, 2025
On the morning of Wednesday, the 28th of November 1666, they left Colinton and marched to Rullion Green. There they arrived about sunset. The position was a strong one. On the summit of a bare, heathery spur of the Pentlands are two hillocks, and between them lies a narrow band of flat marshy ground.
But the spot unlike all others for a real visit was at Colinton Manse, the home of his grandfather, the Reverend Lewis Balfour, at Colinton, on the Water of Leith, five miles southwest of Edinburgh. Here he spent glorious days.
It was while waiting on this spot that the fear-inspiring cry was raised: 'The enemy! Here come the enemy! Unwilling to believe their own doom for our insurgents still hoped for success in some negotiations for peace which had been carried on at Colinton they called out, 'They are some of our own.
They too, like Fergusson's butterfly, had a quaint air of having wandered far from their own place; they looked abashed and homely, with their gables and their creeping plants, their outside stairs and running null-streams; there were corners that smelt like the end of the country garden where I spent my Aprils; and the people stood to gossip at their doors, as they might have done in Colinton or Cramond.
And who do you dence with out at Colinton? 'It depends, said the first girl. 'Lest night, for instance, I was up to my neck in advocates. ... Priorsford's pretty genteel too. You know the really genteel by the way they say 'Good-bai. The rest of us who pride ourselves on not being provincial say you may have noticed 'Good-ba a."
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