Animosity between Scotland and England has taken many forms. Possibly the least worrying was mild ridicule, as in this poem where the author, an early McGonagall, looks with disdain on the peculiarities of English style and implies that those who have time to think about such fripperies are of a lower moral standing.
A Poem on English Style of Fashion
The variety of their garments is a source of amazement to me.
Some of them are short – they could not be shorter,
scarcely touching the wrists – not to be raised by the hand.
Why are the clothes so short? Times change and clothes change with them …
Overcoats have sleeves reaching down to the heels
which you could easily wind three times round your arms.
You could wipe your bottom with them instead of rags
in the privy without doubt.
Alas! the leather skins would be badly worn away by their backsides …
A cap like an earthenware pot covers each head.
It is secured with a red cord.
Tubes form the clasp of its band. Every servant
that lives and serves
has a head the same as a gentleman.
If you see any lady fully dressed,
you will perceive her trailing behind her a dress with a tail
two ells long, like the wild beasts.
Flee from her as from death.
Thus she bears an acceptable gift to her lord.
The English race is like some kind of monkey.
It apes all the others daily, as it sees them.
Idleness produces more and more frivolity and worldliness
in their licentious minds
May the king of all grant to us the kingdom of heaven.