It was close to midnight at this point, and the town was abuzz with life. I bought a map and worked my way through the city, over the bridge Ness, and into the suburbs of this area. This town was much more spread out that Stirling, and I had a little difficulty finding my hostel, but after a bit of work I found it. A weary Indian man answered the door, and after paying for my stay and breakfast the next morning, I fell fast asleep.
I woke up early, had a Scottish breakfast, and headed into the city.
Inverness is considered to be the capital of the Scottish Highlands. Walking along the streets, one could spot the remains of the Highland culture, asthere was quite a few stores selling tartan and kilts, and I saw one or two places selling hand-made bagpipes. I located the bus station, and found my way onto a bus out to Culloden field.
The Battle of Culloden field was the last battle ever fought on British soil. In 1689, the Glorious Revolution overthrew the reign of King James II, forcing him to flee to France as the Hanover family took the throne. However, his son, Prince Charles, was eager to retake the throne for his father, and began to drum up support from the French and his followers, the Jacobites (meaning followers of James.) He landed in the Scottish Highlands in 1745, persuading some of the clans to follow him to victory, as the James family had actually come from Scotland. He and his forces began a victorious march south through Scotland, crushing most of the weak English defenses along the way. As they marched towards England itself, however, Bonnie Prince Charlie (as he was known to the Scots) began to have disputes with the clan chiefs over their strategy, and therefore began a retreat up north, as the English armies began to organize themselves and send proper forces to crush this rebellion. They clashed at Culloden in 1746.
On the night of August 15, 1746, the Jacobites waited in ambush at Culloden moor for the government troops. The British army had been behind them for a while, and so they assumed that they would be right on their heels, unsuspecting a surprise attack. Yet they picked the worst of nights possible, as this was the government commander's birthday, who, with no intention of fighting on his birthday, let his men rest for the night with extra rations. It was well into the night that the Jacobites realized that their enemy was not going to be coming through that area, and so they prepared a surprise attack as the British slept. But after they marched to the British camp, the sun had nearly risen, and all elements of surprise were lost. They marched back to Culloden. Against the wisdom of the clan chieftans, the Prince insisted they fight right there on the moor, so as the pipes blared they drew up battle lines as the British army marched into the field in perfect formation. They were well rested and well fed, with their morale high. The Jacobites were hungry, tired, and demoralized after a long, hard night of forced marching. Cannons began to fire from both sides, but the Jacobites were not as well trained in artillery, and were quickly outmatched. The Bonnie Prince realized that he would have to draw upon the one tactic that had ensured all their previous victories: the Highland charge. Traditionally, battles at this time were fought at a long range with muskets and cannons. However, the Highland charged consisted of firing a volley at a close range, and charging the remaining distance and using claymores to finish off their enemy. This tactic had worked so well because the British were not accustomed to face their enemy in melee combat. And so the Jacobites began to charge.
Yet, the English had learned from their mistakes. And as the Jacobites charged, continious volleys of musketballs tore them to pieces, and those who reached the government lines were surrounded and cut apart by bayonets. It was a slaughter. And then, as the remaining Jacobites fled, the government unleashed their calvary, who killed every fleeing Jacobite, hunted down any wounded, and often shot any Highland civilian, because they could not tell the difference between them and a enemy clansman. Overall, it was a short battle, lasting an hour. But it was incredibly blood. 1,500 Jacobites died, compared to 50 government forces.
Today, the moor where the battle took place has few signs of the great bloodshed here. A few flags denote the positions each army took. A stone mound tells of the moor's history.
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| The field itself |
But all around, there are giant burial pits for the dead clansmenm each seperated by their family.
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| Burial pit of the Mackintosh clan, at around 55 yards long it's the largest clan grave. |
It was a sobering place, but was really awesome. And after I got some lunch and got past the rain, I boarded a bus back to Inverness.
I still had half of my day left and little planned, so I decided I had to go to the most touristy location around these parts: Loch Ness. I found another bus and bought a return ticket, and after a half hour ride to a town called Drumdundoicht which I no doubt mispelled several times. The town seemed to exist on any map for one reason, and that was because of the Loch Ness Monster. In a town that was as long as a hallway at school, two different museums were on different ends, dedicated to the mystery of the beast. I had heard one was much more scientific than the other, so I bought a ticket and entered.
I don't think I really need to delve into the history of the Loch Ness Monster. People have been seeing mysterious objects in the lake, and many people reported seeing a dinosaur like object. However, most of these sightings have been misightings of regular, everyday objects. Things like waves, waterfowl, and sticks have all been turned into bits of a prehistoric creature. However, as science advanced, experts have managed to expose many photographs as hoaxes, and teams have swept through the lake with radar teams and taken ecological studies of potential prey such as fish. These studies have come up with one answer: that there cannot be a monster of family of monsters in this loch. However, this hasn't stopped the hordes of tourists who flock to this lake for a chance to view the beast. My museum presented an interesting scientific approach to the Loch Ness Monster, and I was pleased when I exited; but not for long. The town was far enough away from the lake that I could hike to it, but it would be time-consuming and I would be far away from the bus stop. I didn't want to loose the bus stop, so I slowly wandered around this speck of a town for probably two hours before I finally found a bus home.
In Inverness, I had one more goal to complete before I could go back to London: haggis. Haggis is sheeps organs, and is one of the few well-known Scottish dishes. So I ordered a small plate of haggis, tatties and needs (mashed potatoes and turnips.) It actually wasn't that bad, and I was pretty happy to finish off my plate.
Early the next morning I caught the taxi I ordered to the airport. It was actually smaller than Tallahassee's airport, consisting of two gates, both within eyesight of each other. An hour of flight and I was back home in London.
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