The Jacobite Magazine

 

 

 

"The Jacobite"  is the official Journal of The 1745 Association  and is issued to members three times a year. The number of pages varies but is usually between twenty and thirty. Articles are written both by Officers of the Association as well as by members. The Editor has the final decision!

Articles in "The Jacobite" include topics connected with the administration of the Association (financial report, details of the AGM etc),  details of the Annual Gathering and contributions of  interest from members.

 

 

 

The Jacobite, No.133, Summer 2010

  The Commemorative Service on Drummossie Moor – 17th April 2010

 Numbers attending were down this year probably partly due to the suspension of flights because of the presence of volcanic ash in the stratosphere.

    The morning was cold but dry when the chairman of The Gaelic Society of Inverness Allan Campbell welcomed the company; he introduced Father John Angus MacDonald who said a prayer in Gaelic.  This was followed by Dr Angus Macdonald. Piper to the Gaelic Society playing the ground of “The Prince`s Salute”

The chief`s address was delivered by Brigadier John M. MacFarlane, our President, entitled:       

“THE SOUNDS AND VOICES OF CULLODEN” 

        A ‘CHAIRDEAN

Tha sean fhacal ‘sa Ghàidhlig ag radhainn  Tha MacTalla anns gach creag”  agus tha sin cho fìor, gu sonraichte ann an àite cho spioradail ‘s a tha againn air a bhlàr tiamhaidh  seo far am bheil ar dùthchas bronach mun cuairt oirnn  a’ lìonadh ar cridheachan. Tha am blàr seo  làn de fhuaimean agus de ghuthanann  airson neach ‘sam bith a ‘tha comasach an  cluintinn . Uaireiginnach, seas an seo ‘nad aonar agus eisd !

 

FRIENDS!  “Every Rock holds its echo” says the Gaelic Proverb, and none more than on this spiritual moor where the brooding sense of place pervades all who visit it, whomsoever you are!  It is full of sounds and voices to those who have that inner hearing and the will to exercise it. Just stand alone here sometime and let the place speak to you.     But I want you to exercise that imagination with me today.

    Yes! There had been sounds here that April morning, made by friend and foe, gradually building since a grey cold dawn rose and the whistling north-easterly showers soaked our tired and hungry men and their officers standing in their depleted ranks on this landscape: a tactical nightmare particularly for Highland troops. 

    Each man prepared his soul as best he could in prayer or in the sacrament of his particular belief. In the gathering light came the murmured Gaelic responses, as the Episcopalians of the Appin Regiment received the viaticum of bread and wine and absolution in the face of the death many were to achieve in the third rank of Barrell’s Regiment later in the day.

    Soon, in the distance there was the tuck of drum and the thin music of fifes as the red columns of regular troops and their Highland and Lowland allies wound their careful disciplined way on to the field where the Hanoverian cavalry, too,  jingled to their deployments

    As the tensions grew and Regimental colours crackled in the wind, the Highlanders in the Jacobite Army, both voluntary and pressed, acted in the face of battle as their ancestors had for centuries done. Bha nuallan na pioba ‘g an brosnachadh gu cath   Pipers repeatedly sounded the old tunes which incited fighting-madness. Bha Sluagh- ghairmean ‘g an glaodhaich: “Loch Sloidh ”

“ Creag an Sgairibh “ ceangalan comhfhurtachail eadar gach gaisgeach agus an dùthaich as an d’thàinig e. Battlecries  gave them comforting  links to their clan lands . Genealogies were rehearsed that reassured them of their descent from pure lineages.

    “Is mise Iain Mac Caluim Mhic Iain….”“I am John son of Calum son of John…”    Theid dùthchas an aghaidh nan creag   :  “birth tells”

    Village bards among them probably maintained morale with recitation of the stirring deeds of people in their clan’s past.

     Cuimhnichibh air na daoine bho’n d’ thainig sibh”    “Remember those from whom you have come”

    There was the rattle of sword-hilts on targes and the shouts and insults of individuals, frustrated at the sight of the silent stolid machine–like enemy, their lines dressed and yet STILL no orders given for a wild Highland charge to attack them, to break them and to make them flee. 

    “O! deanamaid ullamh, a mhuinntir an Righ,. Gu'm buaileamaid buillean le 

      Tearlach;”

    “Red’ yersel’up who are leal tae the King,
    And ding the hard fecht wi’ Prince Charlie “

    But there was no relief from the crucifixion of bombardment with well- pointed artillery, the wail of falling mortars, the hissing showers of canister,  the rending of bloody furrows through  the kilted ranks, the shrieks of the gravely wounded, the leadership failing as  more and more  tacksmen and chiefs were felled and loyal companions of a lifetime were seen being laid low.  

    Cha’n e buaidh ach bàs bha ‘n dàn  dhuinn …

    Our fate was not victory but death

     And then came the onset: the order to charge ; the crowded, veering charge over quaking bog in the face of the rippling rolling volleys of hardened Hanoverian infantry; the hiss of case shot cutting swathes in the ranks;  the crash of artillery  pieces fired over open sights; an onset against  an enemy well supported by controlled reserves which kept the frontline firm at the point of the bayonet; close quarter battle with musket, pistol, claymore targe,  axe and biodag against  musket and bayonet, sword and spontoon. Even the partial destruction of Barrells 4th and Munro’s Regiment by the Appin Regiment and Camerons of the Jacobite right, which could have caused a possible breakthrough,  received raking, flanking fire from a deployed Hanoverian reserve line. Fatally hemmed in, the charge lost momentum in the face of withering volleys.

    Despite sundry actions on other parts of the field and the deployment and counter deployment of cavalry, it was only a matter of time.

    Cha’n e buaidh ach bàs bha ‘n dàn dhuinn ……

    Our fate was not victory but death

    So let us imagine a moment just shortly after 2‘clock on the 16th of April 1746. The crisis point of the battle is just over. At that moment, for many, there is an eerie silent pause on this battlefield of Culloden: the silence of broken hopes, the exhaustion of effort and the gradual realisation, both for victor and vanquished, that these were the dying acts of an ancient and much–revered dynasty and  that this was the end of its long march, down the centuries, alongside  the people of Scotland.

    Ospagan dheireannach uachadranachd nan Stiùbhartaich

    The silence of broken hopes

    Sgrìob liath an Earraich…..fàsach na dùile briste

    At that moment, new sounds and voices emerged:  the fighting retreat of the Irish Picquets;the drumming hooves  of dragoons  on the move and the cries of their victims; triumphant piping from the Campbell Militia; the continued screams of wounded horses and men; the huzzays and rough half-drunken jesting of blood stained Hanoverian soldiers looting the dead, or despatching wounded Jacobites  with bayonet  or shot; the caoineadh or corranach of the  women camp-followers finding their dead. Tuiream bàis nam ban-cinnidh; the shouts, curses and prayers of those fleeing; the controlled but swift withdrawal of some Jacobite units disengaging and moving South, in good order, to safety beyond the river Nairn. Among these were the Prince and his escort.

    As the hours and days went by, the noises and sounds spread outwards from Drummossie and ran across Highland Scotland with the destructive rapidity of a moorland fire. Well could John Roy Stuart say in his poem Latha Chùil Lodair :

    “ Gur mòr mo chùis mhulaid

     ‘S mi a caoineadh na guin a’ tà ‘m tìr”

    “Great is the cause of my sorrow

     As I mourn the wounds of my land”

    We can plead that 18th century life was violent brutish and short and that even punishment meted out by justice itself, where it existed, was cruel and by our standards depraved. But NOTHING can forgive the intense, systematic murder, rapine, looting and burning perpetrated by Government Forces in the Aftermath of the Uprising. Sequestration of property, imprisonment in hulks and dungeons,  execution and transportation as slaves were the result  for many loyal to the Stuarts.

    Again I quote John Roy Stuart:

    “A chuid a tha  bèo dhiubh

     ‘S iad gan  fògar le gaotha thar tuinn”

    “Those of them who are left alive being driven by winds overseas”

    Even a Government officer said:  “Tha sinn air ar saoradh o’n Eiridh Suas seo ach tha eagal orm gun aobhraich  a ‘dheireadh trioblaidean do’n dùthaich bochd seo.”

    “We are free of this Uprising but I fear that its ending will bring great trials for this wretched country”

    As we all know, military action by land and sea and a weight of Government legislation attempted nothing less than the dismantling and destruction of the Highland way of life, alienating  the chiefs and tacksman from their clansmen and seducing  them towards  Southern ways, depriving  large sections of the populace from the comfort of their religious practices and the succour of their priests, forbidding  us our language, our distinctive dress and the arms of a warrior race and eventually striking at the very basis of our  rural economy, in other words,  our people and our holding of land. 

    “No seer foretold that the children would be banished that a degenerate Lord

      Might boast of his sheep”

And yet it is strange how things turn out! 

    Jacobites fought for King George in the Seven Years War and in the American Independence Wars.  The Clearances, disastrous though they were for our land and people, resulted in an injection of strong genes, fine blood and an ancient culture to the burgeoning lands of the New World, Australia and New Zealand, a culture which is still perpetuated and remembered and indeed worshipped as a mark of distinction.

    “The blood is strong and the heart is Highland…”

    The Highland Regiments, which forged the great military victories of the expanding Empire restored our self respect as a kilted and warrior race, and still fight fiercely on our behalf, as the Taliban are finding out to their cost!

    I also find it interesting to detect a growing interest and support among the Chiefs and Chieftains for the language and culture of their ancestors and an increasing wish in differing ways to espouse it. There is also a growing confidence in the concept of clanship and community in a world where there is, sadly, so much division.

    As for religion, I take comfort from the fact that each Sunday, the Appin Chalice and Paten at St Johns Scottish Episcopal Church Ballachulish dispenses the elements of the Holy Mysteries, as it has done since it was used on that bleak morning on Culloden Field and the Eucharist is celebrated in Gaelic on occasion and will continue to be so.

    And what of Gaelic itself:  the only language spoken continuously throughout Scotland’s long march?  As the old song says:

    “Tha do chaill i a clì

      ‘s cha do striochd i fo bheum”

    “She has not lost her energy nor succumbed to insult and attack “

    Miraculously, despite attack from without, and apologetic weakness shown from within, our mother-tongue has clung on.  She now expresses herself in a rich written, as well as oral, tradition. She still transmits the great odysseys and events of the Gael, bears our myths and stories, expresses our beliefs and our relationships one with another and tells of our deep sense of place and communion with our enduring landscape.   Even as we speak, the blossoms of the language in music, literature, drama and the spoken word are spreading and growing, bright as  flowers on the machair, particularly among the young.

    The Gaelic heritage -bearers are   “Ginnealach Ùr nan Gàidheal “

    “The new generation of Gaels”.

    It is a precious heritage which Scotland loses at its peril, for Gaelic and the Scots language are the soul of our country.

    As speakers and non–speakers, we should work together to support any measure which ensures the future of our Gaidhealtachd. If we do so, we are ensuring that all those who suffered and died here, and in the ethnic cleansing and terrorism which followed, did not suffer in vain but are remembered in a vibrant language and culture.

    As the great Gaelic bard, Alasdair Mac Mhaighstir Alasdair, said:

    “Let us go forward Unafraid”

    “Deanamaid gluasad

     ‘S na biodh fuathas oirnn!”

AMEN to that!      

 (© Brigadier JM Macfarlane CULLODEN 17th April 2010)

 

 

 

  

 

 

The 1745 Association Tartan

Details of the association's tartan are to be found on Page 1 of issue 119 (Winter 2005). I repeat them here for the benefit  of members and prospective members.

D.C. Dalgliesh has now woven a supply of this tartan. The price is £19.80 per yard (56" wide) plus VAT (£22.77 inc. VAT) Other approximate prices are Ties (£6.20), scarves (£8.50) and sashes (£21.50) can also be made (please check with the mill for up to date information). Those who require a length of tartan or a garment to be made should contact D.C. Dalgliesh Ltd, Dunsdale Mill, Selkirk, TD7 5EB (Tel. 01750 20781)

 

This is what the 1745 Association tartan looks like

 

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