Take a Jaunt to the Jacobites

I have a new book out this week. Yes, right now. It is an exciting and terrifying time for any author – exciting for all the obvious reasons: (excited voice) The book is out there! But terrifying too. All that scrutiny: (squeaky, quivering voice) The book is out there!

The Reluctant Rebel

This time, my time travel takes me to the Jacobite rebellion of 1745 – a topic often taught in Scottish schools. Who hasn’t heard of Flora MacDonald and her daring rescue of Bonnie Prince Charlie, the Stuart figurehead of the campaign who spent more than five months on the run across the Scottish Highlands and Islands in the aftermath of the Battle of Culloden. Information leading to his capture was to be rewarded with 30,000 – an absolutely insane amount of money at that time. And yet, in all that time, he was not betrayed. Despite the comprehensive defeat at Culloden and the disbanding of the Jacobite army, and despite the terrible reprisals which washed over the North of Scotland in particular, the supporters of the Prince remained loyal. Hundreds of them must have known where he was at one time or another – and many risked their lives all over again for the Stuart Prince.

The Battle of Culloden

I wanted to write about that – the aftermath of the campaign. It really was a deadly game of hide-and-seek in which the stakes could not have been higher – most prominent Jacobites were executed. The Prince’s companions changed frequently, but he did pass through one house on several occasions. That’s where I would base my child protagonists, I decided – Borrodale in Lochaber, home of Angus MacDonald and his three sons, all involved in the Jacobite campaign. It was where it all started at the beginning of the campaign in July 1745, and it would be where the Prince would turn for shelter at his hour of greatest need. In addition, the last sea battle in British waters took place in the loch beside the house – and the government forces burnt Borrodale down in revenge too. What a story.

Borrodale House in Moidart, rebuilt after the original house was burned down in retribution

Here are three jaunts which inspired this tale. 1. National Trust for Scotland, Culloden Battlefield.

The bothy on Culloden Battlefield

We have lived in Inverness for most of the last two decades. Every time we have visitors, we take them to the nearest tourist attraction of note. The battlefield is beautiful in summer, but it is atmospheric and full of tragic history. The battle which was fought between government forces representing the Hanoverian King George’s protestant government and the Jacobites who favoured the catholic Stuart royal family was the last land battle on British soil. The terrain was unsuitable, the Jacobite army was heavily outnumbered and outgunned – and to add insult to injury, they had spent the night on a misguided failed attempt to surprise the enemy. They never stood a chance. I have visited countless times. 2. Finlay, an elderly friend from my church invited us to spend a day driving to the West Coast with him, the area of his birth. Halfway, somewhere in Glen Moriston, he made us stop the car. Walk with me a minute,’ he said and led us to the hidden memorial to a little known Jacobite called Roderick Mackenzie.

Roderick Mackenzie’s memorial at Glenmoriston

While the Prince was on the run, Roderick, bearing a strong resemblance to the famous Bonnie Prince Charlie, acted as a decoy. It is said that even as the government forces shot him, he exclaimed ‘You’ve killed your Prince!’, buying the real Charles Edward Stuart precious time to escape. A short drive later, he made us pull in again, this time to the house of an acquaintance. ‘Show her your collection, Donald,’ he urged his friend. The man produced several jam jars of Jacobite musket balls, all found in the stream behind his croft. I will never forget it. History was here, right beneath our feet. 3. The third trip was intentional – I had stumbled across the story, but by now I was determined to research my tale. My other half has long been used to my ulterior motives when I suggest family trips. Our romantic weekend in Lochaber was no more than a list of places I needed to check out – the lie of the land, yes – but also the research riches in local museums. The weather was dubious – but who cares – my head I was firmly located in 1746, and the here and now was practically irrelevant. We tiptoed around Borrodale, played tourist at Glenfinnan, explored the beaches along Loch nan Uamh and speculated which of the many caves had played host to the Prince all those years ago.

Glenfinnan where the ’45 rebellion began

My hope is my readers of The Reluctant Rebel may not have to visit the area – perhaps I have evoked enough of that world in the pages that they can picture Archie’s and Meg’s life: Gaelic, beremeal bannocks, horses, and yes, secrets. But perhaps the story will whet their appetite to visit too. Then they can tread the ground where the fugitive Prince Charles Edward Stuart ran for his life.

The statue of Flora MacDonald overlooking the River Ness in Inverness

Barbara on the day she first received copies of the Reluctant Rebel

More about the book: There it is again, hope. The defeat and the despair I can stand, but it’s the hope that kills me, as if the Cause wasn’t lost, as if Father hadn’t died in vain. As if any one of us could possibly come out of this alive… Following the death of his father, 13-year-old Archie MacDonald has lost faith in the Jacobite Cause. Having witnessed their clan’s terrible defeat at the Battle of Culloden, Archie and his feisty cousin Meg flee back to Lochaber to lie low. Or so they think. Until the fugitive Prince’s life depends on them. When Prince Charles Edward Stuart looks to the people of Borrodale for help, will the young stable boy support the rebellion that has cost him so dearly? With enemies closing in, the Prince’s fate now rests in the hands of a stable boy and a maid with a white cockade. Who will survive this deadly game of hide-and-seek? Praise for The Reluctant Rebel 'I loved it! It's a rip-roaring adventure. Meg and Archie are great characters.' – Maggie Craig Order: https://www.luath.co.uk/new-releases/the-reluctant-rebel

Girl Power during the Highland Clearances - a #WomensHistoryMonth Special

When I was at Edinburgh University in the nineties, I studied John McGrath’s play The Cheviot, the Stag and the Black, Black Oil. It’s a remarkable piece of writing and as someone who had grown up on the continent, this aspect of history was news to me. It was my first encounter with the Highland Clearances, and I resolved to travel to Sutherland one day to find out more. At that point I was interested, but no more. Fast forward almost twenty years. It wasn’t until the windy summer of 2013 that I finally managed to make good that promise to myself – and by that stage I had acquired a husband, three children and a dog. I had struggled to find an accessible book about the Clearances for my two girls ahead of the holiday. I was feeling buoyant that summer – after what felt like hundreds of rejections, one of my manuscripts was shortlisted for the Kelpies Prize. So, while in the ‘maybe-I-can-be-a-writer-after-all’ bubble, I stumbled upon the ruins of Ceannabeinne, outside Durness, above the world's most beautiful beach.

On the information panels connecting the walk through the ruins, it explained about the Durness riots (riots? In a place like this?) – and how a rebellion against the Clearances was started by the women and children of the village. Underestimating their resolve, the land manager had sent the eviction writ on a day that all the men and boys were away thatch-cutting – in the misguided expectation that the women would be a pushover and there would be no trouble. The villagers would simply be sent away to make room for the more profitable sheep. But somehow, records tell us, the women of Ceannabeinne managed to overwhelm the messenger and forced him to burn his own writ. This is even more remarkable when you know that simply touching the document would make it legally binding! I still wonder how they actually did it, but one thing was clear: here was an opportunity to focus on the female perspective of that part of history. What a story, and never written about in fiction. It was a rare gift – many details were in place, but there was all the room for speculation I needed, too. What if the catalyst for the rebellion was a kid? And the story just rolled in from there, like the waves on Ceannabeinne beach.

There were other books about that part of history, but written in the sixties and falling into easy, and perhaps lazy, gender stereotypes. Girl: Oh no, I am so scared! What are we going to do? (wrings hands) Boy: (rolls up sleeves) Well, let me just sort this out with my fisticuffs! You get the idea. I was hoping for something a bit more relatable, and here was the perfect story to try. However, the story is much, much wider than just the Highland Clearances. It’s about the haves and the have-nots, about the responsibility that comes with power, so often abused. And it’s about the individuals who choose to try to make a difference, as best as they know how. ‘Be a force for good,’ one of the characters tells Janet at the height of the crisis, ‘It’s all I can tell you in these times.’ That, to me, is quite a relevant thing in our times, too. Displacement, as Janet experiences, is all around us on a global scale. There is nothing parochial about this tale, which is why it really appealed to me to write about. On that first holiday, I collected everything I could about the incidents of 1841. The best part was that somebody had recently researched the history of the village, local historian Graham Bruce. Not only did I read everything he wrote about the subject, but I also cheekily approached him and asked if he’d read the first draft to check for historical accuracy – and the kind man did! I have still never met him in person. In 2014, I took a day to spend in Ceannabeinne itself. Walking and moving there and assigning houses to the various characters really helped. The Stathnaver Museum in Bettyhill filled in any remaining gaps in my knowledge – I finally felt able to write the book!

I wanted Janet to be feisty, and a real independent spirit, so that modern girls can see themselves reflected in her. In Janet’s society, women really didn’t count for much, and it definitely appealed to me that the women were the ones who defended the village from the first eviction writ’s delivery, overwhelming the Sheriff officer. Of course, this really happened as all the men were away. Janet is caring and loyal, but not afraid of conflict either – just like modern youngsters, she is at odds with teachers and peers at times. I like the idea that a young person can sometimes see what adults can’t. Janet’s impulsive nature has landed her in lots of trouble, but at this crisis point, Janet is exactly what the village needs. We can all make a difference.

‘Be a force for good’ is now what I sign into the book every time a youngster buys one. A good reminder to us all.

Would the Real Robert Burns Please Step Forward… by Barbara Henderson

I live in Scotland. Every January, primary schools return from their Christmas break and, for the next fortnight, focus on the Scots language. They recite poetry in preparation for one of Scotland’s most iconic festivals. No, it’s not a saint’s day. No, it’s not religious or seasonal in nature. It is a day to celebrate an iconic poet – Scotland’s national bard, Robert Burns. 

Robert Burns, Scotland's national poet

Schools hold Burns-themed assemblies, households up and down the country empty supermarket shelves of haggis, neeps (swedes) and tatties (potatoes). The radio warbles with My love is like a red, red rose. Tartan is everywhere. School lunch halls echo with head teachers reciting The Address to the haggis.

Other than the ‘ploughman poet’ label, I was surprised how little people knew of Robert Burns. As a writer of historical fiction, had a hunch that a children’s novel about the poet could do well, particularly in the schools’ market in Scotland. Time to do some Time tunnelling. What could I dig up?

It’s true, Robert Burns spent much of his life farming. However, he also worked as an Exciseman on the infamous Solway Coast where smuggling was rife, due to its proximity to both England and the tax haven of the Isle of Man. At first glance, the poet’s day job sounds almost boring – working for the tax office doth not an adventure make! I wondered if he had ever been involved in anything interesting.

And, oh my goodness, did I strike lucky!

A side note on a museum website briefly mentioned that Burns was involved in the seizure of the Rosamund, a smuggling schooner which had run aground near the coast. 

  

An extract about the seizure of the Rosamund

The ship was full of contraband which had to be confiscated. The Exciseman in charge of the operation was one Walter Crawford, an Excise riding officer whose job involved riding up and down the coast and reporting any suspicious activity which may point to smuggling. The size of the stranded ship meant he needed reinforcements, and fast. Over forty horse-mounted soldiers marched into the freezing sea in three parties, led by three Excise officers. Burns was one of them.

Because Crawford was relatively new in post, he kept a meticulous diary of the operation: dates, times, people present and a blow-by-blow account of what came to pass that February. To me as a writer of children’s fiction, it was a kingly gift!

The Excise officers and the soldiers arrived on horseback and attempted to ride into the sea. But the local beach was famously dangerous for its quicksand. 

Quicksand is very dangerous, and is found along the Solway coast

They had no option but to leave the horses behind and proceeded on foot. According to Crawford’s diary, they waded into the wintry waves in February 1792, while being shot at with the ship’s carronades (small cannon) and with muskets. Despite the dangers they were under strict instructions: to mount the ship ‘with pistol and sword’ and to seize the cargo, arresting the dozen or so smugglers on board if possible. 

 

An etching showing smugglers

They approached from angles on which the ship’s cannon could not be brought to bear and eventually succeeded, with the smugglers abandoning ship and fleeing across the narrow stretch of water towards England.

Gosh, take a breath! What a story!

A painting depicting smugglers

All I had to do was to throw a young apprentice Exciseman into the mix – a children’s story needs a child protagonist. I didn’t have to invent any of the jeopardy like I normally do – it was already there in real life. 

But it was also important to me to create a little balance – the smugglers were not always the villains, of course – much of the smuggling took place because of genuine need and poverty. I invented Old Finlay and his granddaughter so that their perspective could also be included.

I pitched the book to my publishers. They loved the idea, thankfully, but offered me some unexpected advice.

‘Barbara, schools only do this for a couple of weeks in January. They start after Christmas and they finish on Burns Day, the 25^th of January. You need to give them something that they can read in that time. Not a novel – a novella.’

Nothing for it. I cut my proposed manuscript by two thirds. 

Barbara finishing her Black Water manuscript by the Solway Firth

The result is the smuggling novella Black Water. It’s a  story of sea and smuggling, of quicksand, cannon fire, musketry and bravery, but of poetry too.

 Anyone who thinks that learning about Robert Burns is boring would be wise to take another look.

 

Extract from the Cranachan's (Barbara's publisher) catalogue 

 

 

 

 

Crumbling castles and spooky atmospheres - by Barbara Henderson

It’s Halloween week!

As I happen to live in the eeriest, spookiest, foggiest and darkest part of the country - the Scottish Highlands - I wanted to do something on crumbling castles and spooky atmospheres for this week’s blog post. Luckily, I visited just such a spooky castle last weekend, and took the opportunity to film some footage for our Time Tunnellers YouTube channel and our writing challenge for schools. 

 

Caerlaverock Castle 

Actually, I was there to do some research for a new book. But this is not the first time that I have set a story in a castle. The glorious Caerlaverock Castle, Britain’s only triangular medieval fortress, is the setting for my Young-Quills-shortlisted book The Siege of Caerlaverock. The opening of my middle grade novel describes Ada, a laundress at Caerlaverock, as she sneaks out at night to secretly feed a prisoner in the tower prison.

Even though my feet are bare, I feel the echo of every step along the corridor.

Don’t drop the candle.

Don’t drop the bread.

Don’t stumble.

Don’t cough.

The wind sings through the arrow slits and I hug my left hand around the tiny flame, pressing the hunk of bread against my body with my elbow. Back by the Gatehouse, the guards’ silhouettes stand outlined in the courtyard. I can’t tell which direction they are facing. No matter, I have to risk it. My conscience commands it.

My skirts flutter around my feet as I duck around the wash-house. Stooping behind barrels, stairs, sleeping horses and ladders, I run the last few steps and my candle blows out. I ease myself through the narrow gap and into the damp blackness of the tower. 

Let’s be clear: I absolutely love old castles and the atmosphere they evoke. Visiting Caerlaverock, I was able to research Ada’s route. I imagined the cold stone floor underfoot, the clammy dampness of the narrow stairs and corridors, and the smells and sounds of a castle courtyard.

I love reading this section aloud on school visits, often in no more than a whisper. Wonderfully, the book is based on a real and well-documented event in history, the real Siege of Caerlaverock in the year 1300. It happened during the Wars of Scottish Independence when the King of England, Edward Longshanks who loved to call himself The Hammer of the Scots, arrived at Caerlaverock with 3000 soldiers. Inside the castle were less than seventy, with the lady of the castle having to negotiate this tricky situation alone while her Lord was away. I thoroughly enjoyed imagining what these days would have been like for a girl and a young page boy, and I relied heavily on the contemporary poem which describes the siege for the plot of the book.

But walking around a castle after dark, on your own, as a girl? That would have been dangerous, verging on foolhardy. There surely cannot be a scarier, eerier or spookier atmosphere than a castle after dark, can there? How would you feel in Ada’s place?

Whether you believe in ghosts or not, there is little doubt that most people in the Middle Ages and the Early Modern period did. The castle I visited last week, Huntly Castle in Aberdeenshire, belonged to a notoriously fickle and disloyal lord called the Fourth Earl of Huntly. He plotted against the newly arrived Mary Queen of Scots during the 1500s, but when the Queen confronted him, he raised an army – while his wife turned to witchcraft. He will make a wonderfully vile villain for my next story, and I cannot wait to get started.

As I tiptoed along the corridors of Huntly Castle last weekend and peered down its old spiral staircases, I couldn’t help it: a shiver ran down my spine and I could feel my heart thump in my chest. It’s the castle effect.

So why not give yourself over to the castle experience? Visit a castle near you if you can, or support a heritage organisation which looks after such places. Explore the wealth of information about such sites that is now at our fingertips at the mere click of a mouse. And while you’re at it, whether you are young or old, why not try your hand at a story opening set in a night-time castle? I for one would be first in the queue to read it!

Think of echoing footsteps, the scraping of a sword out of a scabbard. The flickering light, the scent of rushes on the floor, the many tapestries behind which so much can be concealed. Think of the moonlight shining through arrow slits, an owl’s hooting, the rustling of rats and mice, the clanging of pots in the kitchen range, the rattling of an iron bucket in the depths of a well. Feel the rough stone underfoot, an iron chain cutting into your wrist, hear the chanting from the chapel at evensong.

Our heritage is rich, but it isn’t remote. All it asks of us is a little imagination.

 

 

Enemies within.

Enemies without.

Nowhere to hide.

 

12-year-old Ada is a laundress of little consequence, but the new castle commander Brian de Berclay has his evil eye on her. Perhaps she shouldn’t have secretly fed the young prisoner in the tower.

But when the King of England crosses the border with an army over 3000 strong, Ada, her friend Godfrey and all at Caerlaverock suddenly find themselves under attack, with only 60 men for protection.

Soon, rocks and flaming arrows rain from the sky over Castle Caerlaverock—and Ada has a dangerous choice to make.

 

Barbara Henderson in front of Huntly Castle 

Barbara's books are published by Cranachan. They are available from bookshops and online retailers.

For more information about Barbara's books visit barbarahenderson.co.uk

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