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Culloden

THE TOPOGRAPHY OF THE HEART

After the massacre at Culloden

the Crown and its lackeys impoverished

the Highlands – forbade the language and the kilt,

began the Clearances, the diasporas.

By Victorian times all that had become

the background of fiction – as in ‘Kidnapped’,

Robert Louis Stevenson’s adult novel

about bigotry, pride, loyalty and friendships,

masquerading as a boy’s adventure yarn

set among the lochs, the glens, the heather.


Young David Balfour – a Protestant

lowlander – is traduced, kidnapped, shipwrecked,

outlawed, redeemed. He becomes a killer

with a flintlock by force of circumstance.

Before he must take to the heather –

with his alter ego, Alan Breck

of the king’s coat with silver buttons –

he takes the ferry from Mull to the mainland.


The ferry is ramshackle. Nevertheless

the Sound is still, the day is bright, all

– passengers and boatmen – take turns at the oars

to a song in Gaelic, ‘Heel yo ho, boys!

Bring her head into the weather!’,

and David Balfour, although he understands

not a word, shares in the fellowship.


As they approach the mouth of Loch Aline

they see a ship at anchor, a coffin ship

destined for the American colonies,

and skiffs, plying between the ship and the shore,

full of people, and the shore crowded

with men, women, children – and, closer,

they hear from land and water a keening,

and one of the singers on the ferry

begins a lament, in which the others join.

Our hero, though he has none of the Gaelic,

is struck to the heart.

 

THE DISGUISED REPUBLIC

David Selzer By David Selzer0 Comments1 min read1.6K views

For Mark Chapman, PPC

So well is our real government concealed, that if you tell a cabman to drive to ‘Downing Street’ he most likely will never have heard of it…It is only a ‘disguised republic’, which is suited to such a being as the Englishman in such a century as the nineteenth.

THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION, Walter Bagehot, 1867.

HM’s Garden Parties turn the Bagehot trick,

showing GB as it really, really is:

the Law, the Cloth, clerks, hacks, uniforms,

diplomats, local government officers

and the odd charity bod – some wearing gloves!

Strangely, though there are two regimental bands,

there aren’t enough chairs, the ice cream runs out

and so many guests leave early – out

into London’s levelling traffic.

Fresh from the slaughter at Culloden,

the Duke of Cumberland’s men created

Virginia Water, a little bit

of highland wilderness in Surrey

– the land, a gift from the Duke’s grateful dad,

Her Present Majesty’s great-great-great-

granddad, for stuffing the Scots for good.

And it’s still in the family – with all

those acres and paintings and pottery,

liveries and lackeys, vanity and greed.

How well they obscure where real power lies!