History

      Buachaille Etive Mor and the Pap are two peaks that form bookends to the pass of Glencoe in the Highlands of Scotland.  Not so long ago, I hiked these two hills. Not difficult, not massively high by world standards but still significant to a magnificent glen with a checkered history. I won’t dig too deep into the massacre of the Macdonalds by the Campbells, the big house which Donald Smith, Lord Strathcona had built almost directly beneath the Pap, nor will I touch on the Kingshouse Hotel which is perched on Rannoch Moor overlooked by the “Big Shepherd” for such is the Buachaille In English.

 The Pap overlooks the sea loch, the fjord called Loch Leven to the west. Almost immediately below is the road bridge that replaced the Ballachulish Ferry many years ago. Not so long ago perhaps. I remember crossing it one rough night as a child and my sister-in-law, Murdina, remembers it too as she made the long trek from her home on the island of Barra, through Oban and up to her boarding school in Inverness.  The camp site looks out over the waters of the inlet. I have camped there many times. At my youngest and most foolish, I camped as close to the sea as possible with my tent entrance facing due west so that I could unzip in the morning and have an immediate view of the waters through a hedge. Of course, spectacular views are often exposed views, weather-beaten views, gale force wind views, horizontal rain views but, well, Dear Friends, the optimism of youth. The sun will shine tomorrow morning but, if in reality it didn’t, then now years later, it did!  More of this later.

I think of history as being a link, a necessary connection to our past, an experience from which we can learn. Two authors remind me of this.  The one is Nan Shepherd (1893-1981) and the other is John Buchan (1875-1940). I had grandparents whom I knew well who were born around about the same time therefore contemporaries of these two writers. Nan Shepherd’s greatest work was “The Living Mountain”, a perfect picture of her many experiences in the Cairngorm mountains. (I wrote about this in an earlier blog).  In her book she describes meeting ghillie James Downie who had once guided Prime Minister William Gladstone up the Lairig Ghru to the Pools of Dee.  Having reached them the legendary Prime Minister decided to go no further.  Whatever James Downie’s political beliefs were, he had no [i]great opinion of Gladstone after this decision because the man had failed to go the extra 100 yards or so higher to see the spectacular view down the other side. He had let his guide down by not fully embracing the beauty of the area which he loved so much.  John Buchan remembers as a child a Great-Uncle telling him the story of his own youth when he had an ancient nanny who, as a child had been awoken one night by footfalls outside her window. On pulling back her curtains she saw a host of marching men. This was Bonnie Prince Charlie’s highland host heading south to invade England for the Jacobite cause. This took place in the year 1745. Dear Friends, it is part of my off centre view of life that I find these two connections fascinating.

That Nan Shepherd should meet somebody who had shaken the hand of a legend who had met a man born 4 years after the Battle of Trafalgar and 6 years before Waterloo; that she had met a person who had met a person who had kissed the hand of Queen Victoria; that here she was living her life through the 1970s after space travel had led to a moon landing yet with that palpable link to the past. I could ramble further but words don’t do this justice. That there was a physical connection of almost 200 years between John Buchan and a woman who had borne witness to a fated expedition which eventually resulted in the proscribed demise of a culture, I am struck. Why is this currently important to me? Well, back to Glencoe.

   There is an island within easy sight of the camp site. I have never been to it. But it is near enough to show that there are some small hardy trees and grassy sedge , it looks like only about 10 people could stand on it with room for little else. Local legend has it that when there were disputes that were difficult to settle amongst the Macdonald clan, the two or more protagonists were rowed out to the island. They were not allowed back until a compromise was reached.  You will have realised that the exposure to the fickle Scottish weather was not always comfortable. And I can hear those of you who know, Dear Friends, asking the question about  the West Highland midgie. These little flies swarm to the warmth of humanity, they settle onto the skin, sometimes they leave red marks and always, always, they irritate and cause people to quickly seek escape.  To me there is nothing more likely to settle a family dispute than being beset by a horde of midgies. What is my point?

If Putin was to be dispatched to that wee island, I am not sure who should go there with him, other than fellow members of his kleptocracy. Maybe he should just sit there for a few days on his own, possibly with a few history books which cover the last two hundred years or so. Then he would realise that his destructive venture is not something that he can win. Certainly In the short term his forces will take over the Ukraine but in the long term, it seems unlikely he will ever fully subjugate a population that he has treated with such brutal disdain. Hearts and minds would seem to be a forlorn hope for him and his gang. He has created bitterness, he has given people a cause, he has united the disunited. He has caused pain at home and grief abroad. There was no need.  He needs to shake hands with the past and, more importantly, listen to its wisdom. History suggests that if one wants a book to be a best seller then ban it; if one wishes to annihilate a belief system then the worst thing to do is persecute its adherents. There is nothing more guaranteed to help a religion to flourish than to drive its followers underground. Samuel Butler (1613-1680) seemed to say it best:-

“A man convinced against his will,

Is of the same opinion still.”

He was not an historian but he was a poet. ‘Hudibras’ from which this quotation is taken was referring to the English Civil War.

  Above all Mr. Putin needs to, in the words of Toni Morrison,

“Refuse the prison of “I” and choose the open spaces of “We”.

Sadly narcissism and altruism are unlikely companions. I fear our rude awakenings are with us for some time to come.  

                               _____________________________________________

*Here is a link for a picture of the path up to the Pap of Glencoe with the aforementioned island in the near distance:-

https://www.istockphoto.com/photo/the-path-to-the-pap-of-glencoe-s-gm1164913337-320348787

---

[i] William Ewart Gladstone served as PM of Great Britain on and off for a record of 12 years in the 19^th Century. He almost achieved Home Rule for Ireland. He was known as GOM, which stood for ‘Grand Old Man’ unless one was a political opponent in which case it was ‘God’s Only Mistake.’

2. “Memory Hold the Door” is Buchan’s autobiography from which this tale is taken.