Unformatted text preview: to go up to the glen and see how little remains of all that. A castle, a pagan circle of stones, the foundations of the town, now totally overgrown, and then those terrible ruins of the Cathedral." "But what did happen to it? What did you mean its Catholicism was its ruin?" "Those Highland Catholics would yield to no one," he said. "Not to Henry the Eighth when he tried to convert them to his new church in the name of Anne Boleyn, and not to the great reformer John Knox, either. But it was John Knox-or his followers-who destroyed them." I closed my eyes; I was seeing the Cathedral. I was seeing the flames, and the stained glass exploding in all directions. I opened my eyes with a shudder. "You're a strange man," he said. "You've got the Irish blood, don't you?" I nodded. Told him my father's name. He was flabbergasted. Of course he remembered Tyrone McNamara, the great singer. But he didn't think anyone else did. "And you are...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10