MATT McGINN
The Misdeeds of Slyvester McQuigley
Introducing Slyvester McQuigley

 

Introducing Slyvester McQuigley

Sylvester McQuigley was no angel. On that we will readily agree. But to suggest that he was an entirely evil man as do certain well-informed persons is to paint a false picture which can only serve to misguide the recorders of history who have striven so hard in the past to give us an account of our heritage and traditions but who have been hindered so often in their noble endeavour by such people who do not believe what they see, so much as see what they believe. It is in order to offset any possible error which should otherwise arise from this malignant source that we present to the public this untarnished and objective account of what have been described as the misdeeds of Sylvester McQuigley.


McQuigley was born the seventh son and eleventh child of poor but dishonest parents in a single end in the lower part of Glasgow's Gallowgate. His father Josiah was an unsuccessful hawker of Irish Hebrew origin who had chosen this particular abode partly because he considered it a suitable environment in which to rear his eleven sons and daughters and partly because he had no alternative.
The house itself was of sound construction, the builders having gone to considerable trouble to transport from the outlying districts substantial quantities of brick and timber. So good indeed was the workmanship that it had been enabled to withstand for two centuries and more, the worst rigours of the Clydeside weather. So much so that even after a heavy shower of rain there were no floods and only an occasional leak in the bed recess.


Running water was laid on, which was a considerable improvement in the provision enjoyed by Josiah McQuigley's forefathers in that little village outside Jerusalem which they had left only five thousand years prior to the birth of Sylvester.


For purposes of sanitation the McQuigleys did not have to travel far, there being provided for their convenience a water closet which they enjoyed in common with the other four families on the landing.


Thus, in comfort and with lavish helpings of oatmeal and herring, did Sylvester spend his infancy.


Already, in early childhood, he had begun to display the truly astounding talents which have led to his erstwhile infamy and which made his name a household word among the other families on the landing and, indeed, throughout the length and breadth of the Pickle pend. The first of these to become apparent was the astonishing rapidity with which he could pick things up.


So well developed was this particular talent that it might well have gone unnoticed, had it not been for the exceptional vigilance of a certain store detective in the centre of the city. Once, however, it had been observed, it became clear that the boy was too far advanced for any ordinary school. With a view therefore to the further development of his talents, he was transferred to a more advanced type of educational establishment without delay, and in great haste. To a school in fact which had been properly approved by the appropriate authority. Let it be said the foremost authority in the country!


The particular college in which he was thereby installed was in the charge of a certain religious organisation which held the belief, among others, that the full fruit of man's wisdom, knowledge and morality could be best imparted to the scholar through the medium of benevolence and generosity. To this end the teachers were specifically issued with instructions to avoid, where possible, the drawing of blood from the hides of the students. An instruction which was faithfully obeyed. So much so, that the students seldom required outside hospital treatment.


We give this brief account of the early background of Sylvester in order that the reader will be possessed of a fuller impression of his roots and his misdeeds and will thereby be enabled to make an unprejudiced judgement.


There is another important factor to which the reader's attention must be drawn. That is the religion which Sylvester adopted. This is an important entity in estimating the life, deeds and works of any man, or woman for that matter, and must of course be considered in any case of the present subject.


The adoption of a religion is an important question for any person as the reader will readily agree, but whereas the problem is easily overcome by most people, there being to hand in most homes some religion or other which the person easily accepts, good, bad or indifferent and without a great deal of bargaining or argumentation, it was somewhat complicated for Sylvester, as will be understood, and it was the one thing which ever caused him to lose sleep.


The complications arose from diverse sources. There was the fact that his father was an Irish Hebrew, himself somewhat confused, and his mother a hardened Scots Presbyterian with no sympathy with the idea of Bishops in the Kirk. And there was the example of his college superiors towards which Sylvester had somewhat mixed feelings.


It was therefore inevitable that the boy should grow into some kind of non-conformist or heathen. Having nothing but feelings of loathing and detestation for heathens, Sylvester chose nonconformity for he recognised that it was necessary to have some kind of religion to guide one through life. But the problem was one to which he had to devote a great deal of thought and mental energy, it being his desire not to be entangled with too many commandments.


After him giving the matter many days' consideration his problem was solved by a lecture it was his privilege to hear given by a certain famous Glasgow open air preacher. With only one hearing he was converted to a religion with an absolute minimum of do's and don'ts; in fact, with only one commandment. Namely that a man must at all times be good to his Granny and give her plenty of whiskey. The lecture filled Sylvester with great relief and induced him to make his one and only ever contribution to a public subscription. His donation, it must be noted, consisted of two French francs which he had picked up in Kent Street a fortnight before and which he had decided to keep as a souvenir. It will therefore be appreciated that in making the donation Sylvester was making a substantial sacrifice which rendered unwarrantable the avowed disapproval and rebuke of the preacher, who cursed and swore, thereby exposing himself as a blistering hypocrite with one interest in life, namely the gathering of funds.


Be that as it may, a creed cannot be condemned simply through the malevolence of a person claiming adherence and Sylvester left the sneering preacher and hostile gathering feeling elated that he had at last found a religion he could embrace with his mind, body and soul and yet which did not prove too cumbersome to him in his misdeeds.


To this religion, as even hostile observers will testify, he has ever adhered. So that if the obedience of the commandments in which one believes be the criterion set at the Pearly Gates then assuredly Sylvester will have his place in the heavenly host, for, as the Gallowgate well knows, his Granny was never sober, and despite the claim of a generous National Assistance Board the responsibility lies with Sylvester McQuigley.


The last environmental factor which we will mention is one of no less importance. We refer to the wart which an inconsiderate nature had placed inconveniently on the point of his otherwise unobtrusive nose and which defied all the knowledge and experience of medical science. This was, as will be readily appreciated, a source of acute embarrassment to Sylvester and a distinguished feature which set the remainder of society with the sympathetic exception of his Granny against him, and led him to adopt his otherwise inappreciable standpoint of malevolence intermingled with an element of goodness of a kind.


With these remarks on his early environment, his love of his Granny, the wart on his nose and a reference to the fact that his great desire in life was to live with a minimum of physical effort, we introduce Sylvester McQuigley.