History RaeTold

The Jacobite Rising of 1745; or, Why Not Weaponise Some Angry Highlanders Against the Protestants?

Right, let’s start with a bit of background here.

Once upon a time, Scotland and England were two separate countries and they fucking hated each other. This was in some part because Scotland is a rowdy bastard nation who loves to throw down, and England are our only neighbours, so they were our best bet for a proper nemesis. It was a proximity thing, really. Also England love to colonise shit, and we were RIGHT THERE so they were endlessly trying it on. They invaded us a bunch, and we invaded them, and this went on for several centuries.

And then there was a bit of a sectarian disaster, and we formed a union.

This started when Queen Elizabeth I* executed her cousin Mary Queen of Scots** for “treason” and/or being Catholic, and placed Mary’s son James VI and I*** on the throne instead.

*Tudor, Protestant
**Stuart, Catholic
***A baby, Protestant

(James was best known for being super into witch hunting and also for being openly, shamelessly gay. Famously, he kept shagging and promoting his boyfriend (and ‘Gentleman of the Bedchamber’, actual title) George Villiers, and then commissioned a rewrite of the Bible to justify the fact that he kept shagging and promoting his boyfriend. That’s where the King James Bible came from, fun fact. When questioned on the fact that he kept shagging and promoting his boyfriend, James was quoted as saying “ok but what if Jesus was also gay, what about that”. I may be paraphrasing. He was a weird dude, is what I’m saying).

Anyway, when Elizabeth died, free of heirs, James inherited the English throne too, and the thrones of Scotland and England were unionised.

(The parliaments didn’t unionise until about a century later, and this was in part because Scotland bankrupt ourselves trying to colonise Panama, which had already been colonised by Spain, and thus went down like a lead balloon, but I’m not going into that right now because I know nothing about it and I don’t want to Google it).

This was followed by a few more Stuart kings that I don’t care about. Somewhere in there, everyone went Catholic again for a bit, and then blah blah puritanism blah blah civil war something something. I don’t know.

Anyway, at the end of all that we saw James VII and II**** being replaced by his daughter Mary***** and her husband William of Orange,****** who became the only equal dual monarchs in English history, I think.

**** Stuart, Catholic
***** Technically a Stuart but didn’t keep her name because of the patriarchy, Protestant
****** Dutch, Protestant

Ok that’s the background. Lotta kings and queens. Lotta switches in Christian genre. At least one beheading, probably more. A revolution, I think? A second revolution? Who knows. Plenty of people, probably. Not me, though.

Quick sidebar here to address a Jacobite misconception: the events I’m about to talk about are often painted as a Scotland vs England fight, when it was really more of a Catholic vs Protestant thing, much like most Scotland-based conflicts. There were actually more Scots fighting against the Jacobites than there were Jacobites, according to my Higher history teacher. Mr. Grant would never lie to me.

Right. Let’s talk about the French.

Three constants of France, throughout history: 1. They’re pretty Catholic, 2. They fucking hate the English (which is a constant for most countries, because the English are historically terrible) and 3. They love to overthrow a monarchy. So, around this time, they decided that the best thing to do would be to overthrow the English monarchy and reinstate the Stuarts.

Unfortunately, there weren’t any Stuarts left in Scotland. There was, however, some fucko living in France by the name of Charles Edward Stuart. This name tested poorly with early audiences, and instead he took on the moniker Bonnie Prince Charlie.

I love the Jacobites. Bonnie Prince Charlie, however, was a fuckin’ drip and I will stand by that.

BPC was an odd choice of leader for the Jacobites. He had little to no actual military experience, had never been to Scotland and didn’t speak Gaelic, the primary language of most of his army. But his grandpa was James VII and II, so whatever. Nepotism.

The Jacobites themselves, on the other hand, were great. They were a rowdy, feral bunch of Highlanders who specialised in brutal guerrilla warfare and fought literally balls-out (kilts and all that). They weren’t as highly trained or technologically advanced as the British army (known as the Redcoats), but what they lacked in actual military skills they made up for in enthusiasm and raw bloodlust. They also knew the territory better than anyone – the Highlands are damp and hilly and filled with plants made of spikes and bad thoughts, and the Jacobites were used to this. The Redcoats were not.

The most famous Jacobite military tactic was known as the Highland Charge. This was a fancy name for leaping from bushes and running down a hill at the enemy, yelling, dicks and swords waving. It was… horrifyingly effective.

Like, imagine being a lil Redcoat soldier, happily marching through Scotland. It’s damp and it’s cold and the squirrels are weird, and then, suddenly, there are 200 large bearded men and all of their testicles battering down a hill at you, brandishing broadswords and screeching at you in a language made up entirely of harsh consonants and fury.

So, the Jacobites won a good few battles this way, easily marching on Edinburgh and declaring BPC King of Scotland (this didn’t stick), and beginning to advance south, garnering a decent deal of Lowland support as they went. One of the battles was definitely in Preston. I think there was one in Falkirk too? Or was that William Wallace? I don’t know.

Full disclosure, I learned about the Jacobites in primary school and have done little to no additional research since then. Fight me.

Unfortunately, the Jacobites had been promised a couple of things before they set off on their campaign to take London: firstly, that the French would launch an invasion from the south at the same time, and secondly, that they would get the support of a huge number of English Jacobites. Neither of these things happened.

Really didn’t think this through, did you, Charlie?

Anyway, once they realised this, a bunch of their army deserted and, after reaching Derby, they decided to turn back.

By this point, though, they’d drawn enough attention to themselves that the crown couldn’t just let this uprising of rowdy Catholics slide, so they sent the Redcoats to head them off. The crown’s army met the retreating Jacobites at Culloden (which is a field near Inverness. I went there on a school trip when I was 8, good gift shop) and fucked them up.

I’m sure there were a bunch of legit reasons why the Jacobites got quite so heavily murdered at Culloden, including exhaustion from walking from Derby to Inverness, and also the fact that half their army had already deserted, but my primary school knowledge gives one single reason for their defeat: there were no hills.

How were they supposed to run down a hill and yell if there were no hills?

Anyway, they got incredibly killed, and that was the end of the Jacobite uprising.

Of course, the monarchy used this rebellion as an excuse to aggressively dick over the Highlands. Hundreds of Jacobites were arrested and executed, and their lands seized with very flimsy excuses. Things like wearing Highland dress, playing the bagpipes and speaking Gaelic were criminalised, which is a large chunk of the reason that Gaelic has all but died out today, and not just because it sounds bad.

This also sparked the Highland Clearances, where entire communities were forcibly evicted by having their houses set on fire with them still in it, so they could use the land for sheep. It wasn’t exactly a genocide, but it wanted to be a genocide. Go up to the Highlands today and you’ll still find a bunch of burned-out farmhouses. You see them on your Duke of Edinburgh. Also hunners of sheep, those gentrifying bastards.

But what happened to Bonnie Prince Charlie, you ask?

Well I’m glad you asked. He discovered drag.

For real though. He fled Culloden and was smuggled off the mainland to the Isle of Skye by a Jacobite sympathiser called Flora MacDonald, dressed as her maid. There’s a song about it, which is a decent banger, and all Scottish children learn it on the recorder at school.

Once again, cross-dressing saves the day.