Blood and Monsters

The contrast between the North and South banks of Loch Ness is quite startling. The North all tarmac, tourists, Hikers and Nessie Souvenirs, and the South, tranquil one track lanes, blue water and ferns. We arrived on the South bank early, after quickly losing the A9, diverting Southwest through Corriworrie and coming up Glen Kyttachy. This little gem lies between the 2000-ft peaks of Beinn Bhreac and Cairn na Saobhaidgh. Not Munroes, but stunning enough. The single track lane winds upwards north west through gorse and heather moorland before plunging downwards through the green of Strathnairn Forest.
South again to the Lochside at Foyers, we paused to look across to Castle Urquhart, hoping to catch a glimpse of a long neck or those famous serpent loops. No monsters, just the breeze ruffling the surface of the loch making a thousand shadows on this enigmatic stretch of water.

On to Inverness, a sold-out provincial town. Same bored-looking youths, poor men in expensive soccer shirts, streets mauled by Clarks, Marks and Macdonalds. The same items in the same sales at the same prices. Just the Caledonian Canal tells you that you are not in Guildford or Huddersfield. We got lunch and left. I was screaming for the green and purple.

Drumnadrochit - well what can I say, considering it had such an evocative name, it had a Nessie "multimedia experience" and no view of the Loch, so we headed into the traffic again, dodging the bikers and hikers, then, round full circle, back to the tranquillity of the South Bank.

If you fork right and leave the Loch bank to the North West, then follow the road North East towards Croy, cross the A9 and you eventually get to Culloden Moor. The site in 1746 of the very last battle fought in the British Isles. The second Jacobite rising of 1745 was a direct result of the Act of Union of 1707, which removed the Scottish Parliament.

“What force or guile could not subdue
Through many warlike ages
Is wrought now by a coward few
For hireling traitor's wages.
The English steel we could disdain
Secure in valour's station
But English gold has been our bane
Such a parcel o' rogues in a nation.”

(Robert Burns)

The "rogues" concerned were the members of the Scottish parliament who signed the Act of Union with England in 1707.
At Culloden, the Duke of Cumberland, and his lowland allies defeated the Jacobite rebels and their few French allies under Bonnie Prince Charlie.
This was not an England Scotland conflict as many like to believe, on this elevated bog, Scot fought Scot. The graves of the clans, marked by name, attest to this. Over 1200 Jacobites and 350 of the Dukes men were killed in a skirmish that lasted less than an hour. The traditional Highland charge that normally struck terror in the hearts of the foes, was slowed down by the exhaustion of the Highlanders after their long march back from Derby, and the peat bog, They were cut down by the grape shot of the Duke's Artillery. A flank counter attack and the day was won. The Duke ordered “No quarter” and they slaughtered the wounded and the dying, and continued their pursuit of Jacobite sympathisers throughout Scotland.

Many's the lad fought on that day
Well the claymore could wield
When the night came, silently lay
Dead on Culloden's field.

(Skye Boat Song)

As we stood overlooking “Cumberland’s killing field”, reading the details of the battle, and walking round looking at the signs showing the battle lines, the sky was grey and the wind was blowing. Not really cold or raining hard as on the 16th of April 1746, but you could imagine the cold chill that the Highlanders must have felt as they faced the Duke’s Artillery. I listened and thought, “No birdsong”. Was it a coincidence that I experienced the same at the death camp of Auschwitz-Birkenau, in Poland, at Alderley Edge in Cheshire (“the most evil site in England”) and here?
After Culloden, The highlands were never the same again, the teaching and speaking of Gaelic was banned, and the wearing of the Tartan was banned. Each of these “crimes” was punishable by death.