Now I have never been north of York. But, like most people, when I think of Scotland, I have an impression of mountains and lochs and of highlanders wearing kilts and sporrans. A programme on the TV the other day, however, gave an explanation of how the idea, the myth, of the ‘noble highlander' came into being and how it affected so many things. It was all the result of Sir Walter Scott, the writer. He lived in the 19th century at a time when the first stirrings of revolt against an uncaring aristocracy were taking place. Sir Walter Scott was wholly against such radicalism and did all he could to oppose it.

His great opportunity came when George IV came to the throne. George was very unpopular and badly needed to have a public relations success. Scotland, in the form of Sir Walter Scott offered him just this. Sir Walter wanted to portray the monarch as a descendant of Bonnie Prince Charlie (which was the improbable truth) and so gain support for him from the Scots. At the same time he wanted to gain financial and military support from the King for the social status quo in Scotland. George was invited to Scotland and, in the few months available, Sir Walter Scott almost single-handedly created the myth of the noble highlander together with many colourful ‘traditions' dating all the way back to ... the drying of Sir Walter Scott's ink. The visit was a great success for George and Walter - because of it, his myths and, of course, Sir Walter Scott's works travelled widely throughout Europe. Kilts and tartans were transformed from being the primitive dress of mountain thieves to the national dress of the whole of Scotland. Authors, poets and composers all visited Scotland to absorb at first hand the legendary spirit, both real and figurative, of the Scots,. Scotland was fashionable. And the feudal system was preserved.

Many years after Sir Walter Scott's death, however, throughout the highlands the absentee landlords started evicting the poor crofters from their hovels (‘the clearances') in order to make way for more sheep farming. What was happening became seen in England as the disgraceful treatment of the noble highlander - the mythical figure created by Sir Walter Scott to preserve the status quo. Ironically, opinion so turned against the landlords that the law was changed to prevent them carrying out the evictions and, ultimately, the vote for ordinary folk was won.

But Scotland is not alone in having its myths. Wales is known for its singing and poetry celebrated in the annual Eisteddfods with their overtones of druids and paganism. The current Archbishop of Canterbury (who is of course Welsh) was elected as a Bard in 2002 in recognition of the poetry he had written in Welsh. And we have the Welsh national costume. It is now perhaps irrelevant that the Eisteddfodau and Bards only started at the very end of the 18th century and that the Welsh traditional costume was brought into being in the mid 19th century encouraged by Lady Llanover, the wife of an Ironmaster in Gwent. It is after all too late to rewrite history when it has become a part of the myth of the country. Once this has happened, the myth has a life of its own.

Northern Ireland of course is defined as the place where religion is a source of conflict. What we did not know was that amongst the ranks of the Roundheads in Northern Ireland was a real Mrs Robinson, who had said (whilst, as we now know, conducting an affair with a man 40 years her junior) that there was "nothing worse than paedophilia apart, of course, from homosexuality". She tells us though that Jesus (they often speak to each other) has forgiven her adultery. The members of Sein Fein are even now giving thanks for her: " So here's to you Mrs Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you will know".