Wildlife restores harmony to a haunting battlefield
Once the background to brutal fighting between government forces and rebels in the Battle of Culloden, this haunting moorland has returned to a peaceful haven for wildlife
IT IS A warm July day on a moorland field, 2½ miles from the Moray coast. A breeze blows up from the south-west, playing with the smallest branches of the trees and rippling through meadows of late summer grasses. Almost the same golden-blonde colour as the grass are a pair of Highland cows, long in hair and horn. One gazes placidly ahead through a ragged fringe while the other grazes, head down among the stalks. Amid the butter grass and Yorkshire fog are yellow sparks of smooth hawk's beard, lilac-tufted creeping thistle and bright ox-eye daisies. Bees drone from bloom to bloom and, high in the sky, a skylark rings out its complex song. The tone shifts to a lower pitch, and the bird glides into a descent, past the distant bruised hills and into the grass.
The moorland is crossed with pathways, clearly laid with intention, and the atmosphere, beneath the dusky floral scent of late summer, is poignant and melancholy. People walk quietly along the paths, some deep in contemplation; others speaking in low voices. It is Culloden battlefield: the site of the last pitched battle on British soil and one of the most consequential.
The battlefield lies on Drumossie Moor, approximately 5½ miles east of Inverness, bisected by the B9006, which closely follows the route of an important drovers’ road from Nairn. This was the last defensive position of the Jacobites against the Hanoverian government, and the place of their decisive, and brutal, defeat. Fought on 16 April 1746, the battle lasted less than an hour, during which time 1,250-1,500 Jacobite soldiers were killed, approximately the same number wounded and 376 taken prisoner. On the Hanoverian side, 50 soldiers were lost and approximately 300 wounded. The fallout from this battle would resonate
for centuries, with the collapse of the Stuart claim to the throne, the suppression of Gaelic culture, and changes in land-holding that would eventually make way for the Highland Clearances.
Turning back time
Today, as well as a war grave and place of familial and historical pilgrimage, it is an important conservation site, maintained with minimal use of machinery and chemicals. But the battlefield has not always been so well preserved. “The Forestry Commission gave it to the National Trust for Scotland (NTS) in 1981,” explains Raoul Curtis-Machin, NTS operations manager for Culloden. “It was conifer forest then, so we’ve done a lot to curate the landscape that you see today. The aim is to turn it back to how it would have looked in 1746, which was a patchwork of very low-grade farm, seasonal grazing and a mix of boggy, peaty heath and grassland.”
Since coming under the care of the NTS, a road through the graves has been rerouted north and the conifer plantation cleared. Trees surrounding the site self-seed in the grounds, so it must be continually maintained. “We trialled a patch using chainsaws and glyphosate,” says Raoul. “It was effective because it did clear an area, but you end up with a bunch of dead sticks.”
“Drumossie moor, Drumossie dayA waefu’ day it was to me! For there I lost my father dear, My father dear, and brethren three”
Robert Burns, ‘Lament for Culloden’
Now, the site is maintained by manual work and conservation grazing. Herds of primitive goats are employed first, to browse on the scrub, while Highland cows and Shetland cattle graze on longer, tufty grasses. In doing so, they break up the ground and clear thick, coarse vegetation, making way for the wild flowers which now thrive there. The animals occupy fenced enclosures and are moved around the site, allowing some areas to recover and flowers to grow while more overgrown patches are tackled.
The herd of 11 Shetland cattle are dark brown and white, crowned with stubby, black-tipped, forward-pointing horns. “They’re a stoical breed and very placid,” says Raoul.
“They were house cows in Shetland, where they would be brought in during the winter, so they love humans, which gives them real personality. They haven't been crossbred very much, so their bloodlines go right back.” The two Highland cattle also come from an ancient breeding line, with typical slightly flattened horns.
Two horses, Rosie and Glen, from the Mar Lodge estate on the southern edge of the Cairngorms National Park, complete the team.
“We stooped to the moorland and plucked the pale heather That blooms where the hope of the Stuart was sped”
Andrew Lang, ‘Culloden’
Rebounding wildlife
As well as maintaining the site as it was at the time of the battle, the animals have helped create a habitat that supports returning wildlife. Skylarks breed and live on the moor, nesting on the ground among the meadow grasses, creeping thistle, foxgloves and scabious flowers. Here, they find plenty of the insects and grains on which they raise their young, producing two or three clutches of between two and six eggs per year. While most fields are now too densely planted, sown too late or mown too frequently, Culloden provides the perfect habitat. Skylarks declined by 75 per cent between 1972 and 1996, but here, their numbers are rising.
The caterpillar of the Garden Tiger moth, Arctia caja, can sometimes be seen creeping over the paths on sunny days. It is colloquially known as the ‘woolly bear’, due to its coat of long black and ginger hair. After feeding on common nettle, broad-leaved dock, burdocks and other plants, it forms a thin cocoon on the ground. Though it was once widespread, it is now in decline, suffering from the cutting back of hedgerows and tidying of weeds. In the moor, it can feed and grow undisturbed, emerging in its adult form in July and August.
Water voles, lizards and snipe are among the other creatures which have made their home here on the moor.
Memorial to the fallen
Landscape conservation at Culloden does not only refer to the plants and wildlife. It is a war grave, where the dead are interred, and great care is taken to preserve an atmosphere of mournfulness, resonance and respect. Each new development is carefully considered, such as the benches constructed of local green oak wood, their jarring geometry recalling the violence of battle, and inscribed with poetry by Aonghas MacNeacail, writing in Gaelic and English.
On the northern side of the old drove way, where the Jacobite dead were interred in mass graves, is the Memorial Cairn. Measuring 16ft 4in (5m) in diameter and height, and constructed of boulders in mortar, it has grown a cap of gorse flowers, which are just beginning to open in July. Here also are the Clan Graves, marked with simple headstones: lichen-spotted boulders inscribed with the clan name, naturally outlined by moss growing in the lettering.
Among them are Maclean, Fraser, Cameron, Stewart and the unknown Mixed Clans. To the east is the Grave of the English. All were erected in 1881, by Duncan Forbes, laird of Culloden.
Across the moorland, a row of blue flags defines the Jacobite front line. On the opposite side fly a row of red flags marking the Hanoverian line. “You can still imagine the battle,” says Raoul. “When walking around, you see the sitting water and think: ‘How did the poor Jacobites try and charge through this?’”
The Battle of Culloden marked the collapse of the Jacobite uprising and the end to the Stuart claim to the throne. Derived from Jacobus, the Latin version of James, supporters of the cause wished to see the Stuart dynasty, headed by King James II of England and Ireland and VII of Scotland, restored to the throne. On 23 July 1745, 57 years after the King was exiled, his grandson Charles Edward Stuart ‘Bonnie Prince Charlie’ landed on Eriskay Island, determined to reclaim the throne. After capturing Edinburgh, he and his army moved south to Derby. At this point, Charles was advised to return north to resupply and await French support. They withdrew to Inverness with a government Hanoverian army in pursuit, led by King George II’s younger son, Prince William, Duke of Cumberland.
The choice of battleground was not straightforward, but Drumossie Muir, just outside the Jacobite stronghold of Inverness and close to their headquarters at Culloden House, was eventually selected. The Hanoverian army, approaching from Aberdeen, quartered at Nairn to the east.
On 15 April, the day before the battle, the Duke had celebrated his 25th birthday, ordering two gallons of brandy for each regiment. Hoping to take advantage of the drunkenness and the dark, the Jacobite army set off towards Nairn, 12 miles away, to launch a surprise attack. One hour before dawn, they were still 2 miles away and, having lost the advantage they hoped for, turned around and went back. By this point, the men were exhausted; many were left behind, sleeping in woodlands or ditches, or escaped to find food. Shortly after making it back, they received news of the government’s approaching troops. The Jacobite army numbered approximately 4,900 men, armed with daggers and swords. The Hanoverian army was nearly twice that size, backed by cannon and mortar.
The battle was over in less than an hour, and Charles, who would eventually escape to France with a £30,000 bounty on his head, fled. Determined to quell the threat, the Duke enacted powerful laws designed to integrate the Highlands with the rest of Britain, including banning bagpipes, the wearing of tartan and speaking of Gaelic in public. High-ranking rebel lords were executed on Tower Hill in London, while many of the common men were exiled to the Colonies.
“It was a seismic shift in culture,” says Raoul Curtis-Machin of Scotland’s National Trust. “A lot of Jacobites ended up on plantations and behind the revolution. If it had gone the other way, we may not have had the American colonists, the American revolution, or the America that you see today. We’re still living with it, and when you mix the history, the significance and the landscape itself, it resonates really deeply. I’ve never known a site have such a strong response in people.”
Rooftop meadow
The whole moorland has been carefully curated to help transport visitors. Even the Visitor Centre, clad in locally sourced, silvery-grey larch, Caithness stone and site-salvaged field stone, is designed to echo the natural contours of the landscape and block sight of the car park. Inside are an immersive exhibition, educational facilities and a café and gift shop with viewing platform. There is also a meadow on the roof. Up here, among nodding ox-eye daisies, ragged robin and vetches, there are panoramic views of the moor, with Leanach Cottage close by. This traditional early 18th century cottage, thatched with heather from the battlefield, was lived in until 1912 and is now a temporary exhibition space. All is quiet, but for the singing of skylarks and the occasional lowing of the cattle. From up here, the battlefield looks much as it did at the time of the battle.
“It does have a deep melancholy atmosphere. There is still a resonance to the landscape,” says Raoul. “I’ve only found it in about a dozen places, where I’ll get a slight shiver down my spine and a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye.
“I do think landscapes sometimes hold a memory. I couldn’t prove it in quantifiable terms, but I definitely get that feeling, and Culloden has it in spades.”