

### A Faerie's History of Caledonia

### By

### Seelie Doine

### Foreword

### By

### Jeff Maurer

### Smashwords Edition

### Copyright 2010 Jeff Maurer

### Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

### FOREWORD

Now and then, a tale will be told of some supposedly magical place. I had heard of one such place in northwest Scotland – a patch of ancient forest which, due to centuries of reportedly reality-bending experiences, had been named The Faerie Glen.

Having been to Scotland several times, I had encountered a surprising number of Brits who confessed, when pressed, to belief in the Wee People, despite what I thought should be the convincing weight of logic. As an insistently down-to-earth Yank, I could appreciate fantasy, as FANTASY. But I was as certain as I could be that Faeries were little more than a charming myth. Perhaps like many folks, however, I likely held onto a distant hope that there might be something more magical to life than the routine I seemed to have settled into. So, reluctantly accepting the possibility that others might know something I did not, with barely suppressed skepticism I ventured into the Faerie Glen and chose a promising spot of mossy ground where I could sit myself down, relax my body, and still my mind. I waited, wondering what, if anything, I might experience. Eventually, I fell asleep... or something.

When I awoke, it was clear from the angle of sunbeams filtering through the ancient oaks that several hours had passed. I took a good look around the Glen which (except, perhaps, for my own presence) seemed completely undisturbed. Then I stood and briefly weighed the merits of either waiting in certain futility for a bit longer or just abandoning my silly fantasy for something more substantial: namely, a pint in the nearest pub. Immediately I started out of the Glen and toward the village. I hadn't taken more than two steps, though, when a deep but musical voice shocked me to a halt.

"Here it is."

I knew there wasn't anybody there. I had just looked! But upon turning around I saw... unbelievably... a man. He was short: no more than five feet tall, and in a way I still can not adequately describe, very strange looking. Other than that, the first thing I noticed about him was his smile, then his eyes. The smile was broad, sincere, reassuring. The eyes, greener than any I had ever seen, were bright but somehow also sad. Despite the strangeness of his appearance, he was also somehow handsome, with a fair complexion and a face that bore the wrinkles of middle-age. His silver hair was long, hanging loosely past his shoulders. His long, red beard was knotted just below the chin. He appeared well dressed, though of an outdated fashion, with britches, knee socks, and a plaid sport coat with rounded lapels: all of very thick, high quality fabric. Pinned to his left lapel was a white rose.

"Wh... where," I stammered, "did YOU come from?"

"That is a long story. And, respectfully, not one I'm of a mind to repeat just now." Then he handed me a manuscript and said again, "Here it is."

"What's that?"

"Jeff," he said patiently, "we talked about this... at length."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. I had no idea what was going on and did not know what to say.

He held the manuscript up closer to me and nodded encouragement. I took it and stared at the cover: "A FAERIE'S HISTORY OF CALEDONIA by Seelie Doine." I opened the cover, not so much to read what was inside as to give myself time to regain composure. Who was this guy? Where did he come from? When did we "talk about this"? And how the hell did he know my name? I closed the manuscript and lifted my head to confront him. He was gone.

OK, now I really needed that pint.

As I've said, I really did not believe in Faeries before that day. Now, I just don't know what to believe. While in the Faerie Glen, did I experience some kind of "Rip Van time Wrinkle" where Seelie and I exchanged names and talked about his manuscript? When I finally got to the pub after leaving the Faerie Glen, it was still the same day it had been when I entered the Glen. I hadn't aged or grown a long beard. In fact, nothing seemed at all out of the ordinary. I might well have imagined I'd dreamed the whole thing – except for the manuscript.

The manuscript: it has taken several years for me to finally decide to share it with others. One reason for the delay has been that suggesting Faeries might be real is (particularly here in the States) opening one's self up to ridicule and to being labeled as, at best, eccentric. So I worried about what others might think of me for quite awhile before ultimately deciding "the heck with them." Another reason for waiting so long to share Seelie's manuscript has to do with my concerns about its accuracy. I did not want to be associated with a purely fictional account of history. That would offend my idealistic notions of truth and honor. So I did my best to evaluate his version of events. And that took some time. Some of what he wrote was simply beyond my ability to verify one way or the other. But the relevant historical records I was able to track down essentially confirm the truth of Seelie's "history." The names, places, and sequence of events he reports are accurate and true – at least to the extent that confirmation is possible by sometimes contradictory human texts. His manuscript is noticeably lacking in specific dates (presumably because the human calendar has little meaning for Faeries). But it is fairly easy to figure out approximately when things are happening. As with any history text, it does get a bit dry at times. But at least it is neither overburdened with specific dates nor overly long. No doubt there will be those who will quibble. But keeping in mind that histories which are accepted as "the truth" are often biased versions written by conquerors, and keeping in mind as well that respected historians sometimes disagree about what "really happened," I think it is reasonable to give Seelie's version the benefit of the doubt. It is at least plausible. I think you will find his perspective refreshing: fanciful at times, perhaps, but at other times quite sobering.

I considered some rather heavy handed editing but decided against it. However, because Seelie's lack of focus on specific dates might confuse or frustrate some readers, immediately following this Foreword I have added a brief list of significant dates. What follows that list is a word for word reprint of the manuscript which "magically" came into my possession that day in the Faerie Glen.

Jeff Maurer

### KEY DATES

400 Million years ago: Caledonia (then part of the continent Laurentia) migrates across the ocean and collides with Baltica, forming what would later split off to become Britain.

230,000 years ago: Neanderthal humans (Homo Neanderthalensis) populate Europe.

40,000 years ago: Modern humans (Homo Sapiens) migrate north into Europe.

13,000 BC: As the Ice Age wanes and Britain becomes habitable, a land bridge opens migration routes from Europe to Britain.

6000 BC: With the last of the Ice Age glaciers melting, the seas rise, submerging the land bridge and isolating Britain.

2500 BC: Construction of stone circles.

1500 BC: Massive Icelandic volcano eruption causes deterioration of the Caledonian climate and formation of peat bogs in the uplands.

1000 BC: Celts arrive from Europe, then merge with the Caledonians.

84 AD: Battle of Mons Graupius – the Romans led by Agricola defeat the Caledonians led by Calgacus.

4th century AD: The Scotti (an Irish tribe) begin settling in western Pictland. First Christian missionaries to the Picts.

410 AD: The Romans leave Britain.

End of 6th century AD: Pictish king Bridei I defeats the Scots. Columba attempts to convert the Picts to Christianity.

685 AD: Picts under King Bridei III defeat the Anglo-Saxons.

800–1100 AD: Viking raids.

843 AD: Kenneth MacAlpin unites the Scots and the Picts.

1057: Malcolm defeats MacBeth, then establishes the House of Canmore as rulers of Scotland.

1097: King Donald Bane looses the Scottish throne to Edgar Canmore.

1174: Treaty of Falaise.

1292: John Balliol Becomes King of Scotland.

1297: William Wallace and Andrew DeMoray lead the Scots to victory over the English at Stirling Bridge.

1306-1329: Robert the Bruce is King of Scotland.

April 6, 1320: The Declaration of Arbroath.

1371: Robert II becomes the first Stewart King of Scotland.

1559: John Knox returns to Scotland.

1567: Mary Queen of Scotts is forced to abdicate. Her one year old son becomes King James VI of Scotland.

1603: Queen Elizabeth I of England dies childless leaving James as her rightful heir. James VI of Scotland becomes James I of England, uniting all of Britain under a Stewart monarch.

1626: Charles I dismisses the English Parliament.

1646: Oliver Cromwell, in command of the Puritan Parliamentary Army, defeats the forces of King Charles I.

1660: Charles II reclaims the throne of Britain for the Stewarts.

1688: The English parliament forces James II (VII of Scotland) into exile, then names William and Mary co-monarchs of Britain, leading to the first Jacobite rebellion.

1692: Glencoe massacre.

1707: Treaty of Union.

1714: Ignoring rightful Stewart succession, the English parliament installs George of Hanover as King of Britain, leading to the second Jacobite rebellion.

July, 1745: Prince Charles Edward Stewart arrives in Scotland to lead the third Jacobite rebellion.

April 16, 1746: Culloden.

1800-1825: Highland Clearances.

### Chapter One

### MYSTERY

### The ancient ways honored the mystery.

### But modern men often seek mastery

### Over all forms of life

### Causing heartache and strife

### But there's hope as you'll read in this history.

For as long as there have been people, there have been Faeries – in some cases the same Faerie. For Faeries are not mortal, at least not in the way people are. Faeries are also not born in the way people are. They just appear. But even before they appear in the world of humanity, they exist elsewhere. Where? Well, that is a mystery.

I myself remember the first humans. At that time, Caledonia still slept beneath The Ice: separated from the rest of the world's lands by the seas which surrounded her, and separated, as well, from the worlds of both human and Faerie. Those "first" humans were a joy for us. They accepted mystery as the way of the world: honoring it and even worshiping it. Their view of the world was intimate and personal. Everything was alive. Each mountain, each river, every unique species (bear, wolf, snake...) if respectfully listened to could tell stories, offer guidance. And those people listened. Living in a world of mystery, they acquired much knowledge and wisdom. They did not have to understand how things were connected to experience the vitality of those connections. The bonds between the Faerie world and the human world were strong. And we were stronger for it.

Wherever humans gathered around a camp fire, Faeries would gather as well. Usually (though not usually immediately) they would come to realize we were there with them. Our presence might at first be noticed as a fleeting flicker of light at the edge of vision, or as a shadow moving too quickly to be seen but somehow sensed none-the-less. The gap between our arrival and the human realization of our arrival was filled with much fun for the Faeries, and some anxiety for some humans. For Faeries love practical jokes. And even those first humans tended to get distracted by things. We light-spirited Faeries can seem practically invisible to oblivious, preoccupied humans, making them easy prey for our fun-loving antics. So yes, we took advantage of their narrow focus. It was such fun to confuse, startle, even terrify them with what seemed (to them) to be sudden manifestations of eerie, unexplained sights and sounds from "out of nowhere." The displacement and occasional disappearance of some of their favorite things, while a source of amusement for us, was a source of mystery and even vexation for our human cousins. But we always (well, at least usually) made it up to them. If some of their things disappeared into "nowhere" they found other things "appearing" out of nowhere.

It is true that the unexpected and sometimes undesired surprises we sprung on them caused some people to fear us. But were we really responsible for their fear? Perhaps it was selfish for us to do things just for our amusement that we should have known could cause negativity in people prone to thinking too much. In our defense, though, we had difficulty understanding their insistence on taking things so seriously. There wasn't any true malice in our actions (well... at least not typically... though on occasion a particularly nasty person might be deemed deserving of an attitude readjustment). If it took us awhile to respect, if not understand, the differences between us, we always had great affection for humanity and never really intended to foster fear. In time we learned to adjust some of our behaviors to be less provocative, more loving. Naturally, therefore, as years stretched into eons, humanity feared us less and loved us more. And that made us both stronger.

We had always suspected that something world-shattering was about to occur. We were correct. The arrival of a new kind of human changed everything. They came from the land of the sun with their own gods and spirits... and with an entirely different attitude towards the mysterious. Faeries are ethereal creatures of mystery. These humans considered themselves creatures of reason: solid and "real." They denied the reality of mystery with their persistent attempts to conquer it, often not appreciating the irony of relying on logical conclusions that were based on faulty assumptions. They had no idea how much they did not know.

Physically, there were some obvious differences between the first humans and the new humans (though it should be pointed out that the two kinds of humans looked much more like each other than either of them looked like us). Our humans were thicker, stronger, with fairer skin and lighter hair. The new humans, with longer arms and legs, could move faster and throw their spears further. And though their slighter builds did not suit them as well for the colder homelands of our first humans, they did not need as much food to survive and thrive.

Still, both groups of humans were clearly... human. And if, on average, there were noticeable differences between them (which there certainly were), individuals of both groups varied so greatly around their typical type that there were some of each group who would not appear terribly out of place in the other group. And just as the fringes of both sets of humans could be said to share a degree of physical commonality, so too was there an overlap of attitude. So, though these new humans seemed intent on subduing all they encountered during their expansion (as if they perceived that expansion as a march to dominion over the entire world), all is not as it seems. For there were individuals among them who believed much as our first humans did: that humans were of necessity a part of the world, and as such could never truly achieve dominion over it. Dominion is for the gods, not for humans or even Faeries. We are part of this world. The notion that one of the parts should, or even could have dominion over the other parts is arrogant and naive. The world works when the parts work together. It is enough to know your part. It is not possible for human or Faerie to know all. Some, at least, of these new humans knew that. And from that knowledge arose an acceptance of and a reverence for the mysterious. Thus, we faeries found a place among these new humans. It was a more shadowy place than we had become accustomed to with our first humans, because there were so many among the new who clung to the illusion of mastery. They insisted on aggressively pursuing dominion over all, refusing acceptance of the Mystery, ignoring connections they could not understand, denying the existence of Faeries. Though many humans faithfully believed in the divine Mystery and in their intimate connection with the living world (beliefs that strengthened the position of Faeries in human reality), others were seduced by the power of the mastery illusion. It appealed to their conceit, fueling a strength that drove them on.

So, as these new humans spread across the land, cutting down the forest homes of our first humans to further expand their own grassland habitat, killing everything in their path just to clear the path, marching ever onward in their quest for dominion, our first humans thought them mad. Dominion implied separation: separation from the natural world, separation from the mystery, separation from god. Yet their progress was undeniable as they steadily forced our first humans into ever smaller patches of primeval forest.

There were some of my Faerie brethren who suggested that our first humans would soon disappear. Some seemed saddened by the loss even before we had lost them. Certainly things seemed to be going that way. But as has already been pointed out, the way of things is to not always go as it seems they will. Those among the two groups of humans whose attitudes overlapped managed somehow to influence each other. The common ground grew. Ideas migrated. I would even suggest that within the souls (even if not within all the minds) of our new humans, the imperative of the natural world, the mysterious world, was strong. So the world of our first humans survived within the souls of the new humans. And in a world where mystery exists, so too exist faeries.

Caledonia meanwhile, blanketed by ice, slept through these ages of change. Soon, though, she would awaken.

### Chapter Two

### LAND OF LEGEND

### The mystical land in the tales of old

### Rose up from the sea as had been foretold.

### When we moved in it seemed

### To be just as we'd dreamed,

### Her magical beauty a joy to behold.

For many human lifetimes, wanderers among the human tribes told tales of a mystical land just beyond the wave kissed horizon of the sea. Some said it was close enough to be seen but that enchantments were keeping it invisible until the day its magic would be of greatest benefit to humanity.

As lifetimes passed, and years grew warmer, and game grew more abundant, and seers proclaimed with ever more certainty the coming of a glorious age, humanity seemed to grow restless with anticipation. Those relative few who actually believed in the magical land of opportunity saw their numbers swell along with the zeal of their prophets. Eventually, both the dreams of the people and the prophesies of their seers seemed to be coming true. For sure enough, as if relieved of some great weight, land began to rise up out of the sea.

As more and more land raised further and further, it came to pass that the land of legends, once covered by the Ice and surrounded by the Ocean, opened up to the world of people. Wild horses and reindeer were the first to migrate across the newly exposed, marshy land bridge. Before too long, the marshes drained sufficiently for humans and Faeries to follow. What we found was a new world where life had dawned with almost magical enthusiasm. There were grasslands aplenty to feed the herds the humans hunted. Young forests had taken root as well. So the people settled in to enjoy this new life of abundance.

But some of the people remained restless, sensing, on some level, that this land, though beautiful, was not the land promised by the legends – not the land of THEIR dreams. There was a spirit within them that drove them still further. Northward they wandered, to a place that would become known as Caledonia, driven by a mysterious spirit that seemed to beckon them homeward: a spirit that reminded many of us of our first humans and that brought renewed intimacy to the worlds of human and faerie. We shared the wonder of this adventure into the true land of our dreams.

The Ice Age had been dominated by a being of immense size and strength. Though humanity sometimes resists accepting ways of being that are unlike their own, and though people of more modern times, in particular, are prone to deny even the possibility that the Ice could be alive, he most certainly was. And during that Age, the power of his presence was unsurpassed. But ages come, and they go. As the Ice slowly withdrew northward, he held onto some of his lands longer than others. One of the last he left behind was Caledonia, as if Caledonia was among the last and best loved of the Ice's intimates. Indeed, the reluctantly retreating Ice lingered long in some highland glaciers, melting slowly into the newly opened lands, feeding them, nurturing them with the kind of hope, love, and even sadness that can only be gifted by the departing tears of an ancient and powerful lover.

So imbued with these ancient energies, the forests of Caledonia grew quickly. By the time we arrived, they already seemed ancient. Caledonia surrounded us, embraced us with awe inspiring beauty. Living with such beauty and such vitality would give the Caledonians great strength. And being a part of it enabled them to experience Caledonian life as if they could actually be the bounding stag, the raging boar, the surging salmon, the soaring sea eagle. The people sensed strongly that this was a land of hope and even magic. Both human and Faerie felt immediately at home here.

Caledonia had found new lovers.

### Chapter Three

### GROWTH

### With water and stone they exalted the "we."

### Then knowledge from hell changed their focus to "me."

### To bad that such learning

### Left so many yearning

### For times when sufficient it was to just be.

### 3A

### STONE

Within only a few millennia of the land bridge crossing, the Ocean had again risen up over the land bridge, separating and isolating us, the new lands we had first migrated to, and our beloved Caledonia from the lands and peoples of the old world.

No doubt in those older lands, the legend was reborn of a magical place just beyond the horizon – a place that would one day come to be known as Britain. Compared to Britain, those older lands were vast beyond measure, and the people inhabiting them vast beyond counting and of many differing cultures. So as all those cultures interacted, sharing their legends, and as one human generation passed into another, and another, and another, also beyond counting, the legend of the magical land just beyond the horizon became almost quaint.

Meanwhile, the people of Britain lived the legend. And the magic of that legend would remain strongest here, in Caledonia. For it turned out that our isolation helped preserve the old magics and the people's connections with the old gods. Change would come to Britain. But the pace of that change was, at least for a time, slower in Britain than in other parts of the world and slower in Caledonia than in the rest of Britain. Perhaps the reluctance to part from an ancient love had been shared by both The Ice AND by Caledonia. Perhaps Caledonia herself was filled with love for the most ancient of magics. And perhaps that is why we faeries felt so quickly and so fully at home here.

But whether because of love, or magic, or merely isolation, the people of Britain, and especially of Caledonia, kept hold of an ancient way of being that enabled a continued intimacy between human folk and Faerie folk as well as between all of us and the land we loved. And this is as it should be. For though humans have chosen a more physical incarnation than faeries (a condition which magnifies the illusion of separation), in the natural order of things human and Faerie are brethren in spirit. The natural order of things is connectedness – connectedness between faerie and human, between human and earth, between the mortal lives of people and the infinite insights of their gods, between the mundane and the mysterious.

Those early ages of Caledonia were glorious, even if the people lived simply. In small groups of two to three families, they roamed the land they loved, fully satisfying their physical needs by hunting and gathering, fully satisfying their spiritual needs with the ancient teachings passed down from grandmother to mother to daughter... For them, the universe was a mysterious place full of gods and Faeries. Part of the ancient wisdom was that what was yet to be must remain mystery. Knowledge was fluid, and the possibilities were endless. So the mystery was honored, revered, worshiped. And the people were satisfied because they too were part of this world, and the mystery held them just as a mother would hold her child. The mysterious universe was their home and they were comforted, connected.

But human children tend to want to grow up. So times would change and connections would be stressed.

As the human population of Caledonia grew, it also learned. The Caledonians learned how the seeds of useful plants gathered from afar could be grown in more convenient locations. Faeries, of course, were instrumental in both teaching the Caledonians this skill and in optimizing the results. For Faeries, you see, had cultivated a much more intimate relationship with the natural world in general and the plant kingdom in particular, than had humans. So we just naturally knew what kind of conditions would work best for which plants in order to persuade them to grow and thrive. The Caledonians were capable students and picked up some of these skills. But human gardens lacking active Faerie encouragement never did as well as the gardens we took a personal interest in. Naturally, therefore, the humans wanted to keep us around. The plants thrived, the people enjoyed abundance, and the Faerie kingdom remained dynamic.

As the Caledonians became successful gardeners, the need to forage afar diminished. The once wandering humans learned to settle. Campfires became hearth fires, and the place where the hearth fire burned became home.

The domestication of plant life was accompanied by the domestication of animal life. For this, the Caledonians seemed not to need our help. For whatever reason, animals liked humans. Sheep, goats, pigs, cattle, and dogs all found places of relative comfort, importance, and honor within the Caledonian homesteads.

Along with the growth in human knowledge and capability there were also, of course, growing pains. They had learned what seemed to them to be an unprecedented ability to physically manipulate their environment. They were enjoying the fruit of that knowledge and wanted more. But the sweetness of that fruit concealed a potentially bitter seed. When would "more" be "enough"? And if they could never actually accept the contentment of "enough," were they destined, or perhaps doomed to have too much? This race of humans seemed always at war with themselves: an internal war between satisfaction and ambition, between acceptance and agitation, between oneness and mastery, between belonging and independence: between the "we" and the "me." When the human communities consisted of just two or three families hunting together, foraging together, raising their children together, the relative importance of each individual to that community was high, as was the feeling of importance and connectedness experienced within each of those individuals. But as the centuries passed, and as the number of individuals within the community grew, and grew, there were some who experienced those connections with less intimacy and, ultimately, less importance. For some, focus shifted from "we" to "me." Some even allowed their "new" knowledge and abilities to seduce them into believing that the ancient teachings were no longer valid.

Faeries had a longer view of things than most humans. Our memories were longer and our foresight greater. We knew that some of those ancient teachings represented eternal truths. So, as the internal human wars raged on, we watched with bemusement, and some anxiety.

Most Caledonians remained true to their community, their traditions, their magics, mysteries, and gods. But for those whose internal wars had different outcomes, the old ways became suspect, or, for some, tools to be used for altogether different purposes than merely the glorification of the mysteries or the greater good of the community.

For us, this was a difficult time. Over the eons, humanity had learned to accept Faeries as part of their world – a challenging part perhaps, but generally benign and sometimes even benevolent. The worlds of Faerie and human were intimately connected. But many of those who strayed from the old ways denied us that intimacy: denied us even our very existence. This made our interactions with them difficult. We remained a vital part of the world for their friends and neighbors. And we still had direct influence over their experiences, as well. But their perception of that influence lacked an appreciation of the mysterious. In dealing with us, they used their heads rather than their hearts. They abandoned the capacity to connect with us joyfully or lovingly. Instead, they experienced the mysterious world of Faeries as a bitter, inconvenient, objectionable THING.

At times, people seemed at least as challenging a part of our reality as Faeries did of theirs. But, as I have indicated, the vast majority of the Caledonians were with us. Even as the "me folk" became more and more possessive and powerful, evolving into a sort of priesthood, the "we folk" kept the old ways alive and vibrant. Even as this new priesthood urged a deviation from the ancient teachings passed eternally from mother to daughter, even as these priests organized the erection of upright stone monoliths to celebrate their male-centered view of reality, they were forced to accommodate the faith of the people. Rather than erecting monuments of isolated stones, standing alone, the people grouped the standing stones into circles: testaments to connectedness, to the union of male and female, and to the oneness of all. The priests remained priests, pursuing their own individual agendas. But the real power remained with the "we folk." And we Faeries were a joyful part of that union.

Some of the Faerie folk were uncomfortable with the way these stone circles altered the natural landscape. And some warned that the creation of a priesthood as a separate class of people could end up putting humanity on a path that would endanger the age-old primacy of "the oneness of all", thereby risking the very connectedness that had held together everything. But such warnings, though worrisome indeed if dwelled upon, simply could not command the concerns of a folk as naturally light-spirited as Faeries. And besides, though the stone circles did alter the landscape's natural appearance, they were made of STONE - a natural part of the earth. And the circles themselves brought the people together to celebrate the ancient, eternal order of things. So what was wrong with that? And as to the path humanity would choose to follow: well, growth seemed to be part of what humanity was. They were destined to move on and there was little, if anything, the Faerie folk could do about which path humanity would choose, or about how they might walk on that path. At least for the time being, we Faeries could still enjoy going along for the ride.

### 3B

### METAL

When did humans start assigning names to things? Even Faeries don't know when that started. Presumably humans have always felt a need to differentiate all parts of their environment, individualizing everything they come in contact with. It was not sufficient for a bird to be a bird. It had to be a sparrow or a finch or an eagle... "Mountain" was not enough to identify any particular mountain: each had to have its own individualized identity. Even "time" could not simply be: it had to be chopped up into pieces that could be identified as being separate from all the other parts of time. For Faeries, time does not move from one piece to another, it simply is. All the parts of time are connected.

Though Caledonians, being human, named everything, their naming of rivers had an almost Faerie-like spirit to it: for though each river in Caledonia had a human name, each of those names was... the same. To Caledonians, water was that which connected all things. So wherever they might wander, any river they saw was a reminder of home, a reminder of the great oneness. No wonder, then, that there should be a special place for Caledonians in the Faerie heart, or that there should be a special place for Faeries in the Caledonian heart.

Still, Caledonians are human. So growth and change were inevitable, and increasing growing pains would increasingly challenge the ancient faith in oneness. Paradoxically, perhaps the greatest challenge to ever confront faith in the ancient ways would come to the Caledonians via their greatest symbol of connectedness: water.

As already mentioned, Water was practically a god to the Caledonians. Certainly they felt at home with, and on water. Sometimes, they would even build their homes on platforms in the lochs, literally surrounding themselves with water. They constructed the most holy of their stone circles to be surrounded by water. And they learned to build boats so they could travel over the water.

It was on one of these boats that there first arrived in Caledonia something humans had named 'bronze." The Faeries of Caledonia had never seen anything like it. We had sensed the existence of something disturbing, but to actually see and touch this new thing was, for us, horrifying. Bronze was not part of the natural world. Humanity had used fire to force copper and tin into one unearthly material. But the temperature necessary to do this required a fire much, much hotter than any fire ever before made by man. It required a true hellfire. And the result was an abomination. Soon, it was no longer necessary to import this stuff over the water, for the Caledonians themselves learned to make bronze. For them, it offered unprecedented advantages for making tools, weapons, and ornamentation. In fact, it would lead the Caledonians to become, in time, expert metalworkers, capable of works of great beauty and function. But for us, eternally at one with the natural world, living testaments to the ancient ways, bronze portended an end to the natural order. Our tools and weapons were made of stone or wood or perhaps copper. (Had I led you to believe that Faeries, because of our light spirits and oneness with all, were somehow immune to violent tendencies? Oneness with all truly does mean oneness with ALL, both good and bad. Faeries have everything within us. And though we take some satisfaction in choosing to ignore our meaner tendencies in favor of more holistic ways, we are capable of extreme violence if properly motivated.) Our elementary weapons were no match for these bronze monstrosities, which left us feeling more vulnerable than we were either accustomed to or comfortable with.

The world which Faeries live and thrive in is the natural world. The human world was becoming increasingly artificial. As such we felt forced to withdraw from human civilization, just to remain true to ourselves. We did not completely close down access between the human and Faerie worlds, for that would be a denial of oneness. We remained available to those who sought us out, those who kept faith in the old ways, those who believed in us. And we would occasionally extend our magic from the Faerie world into the human world, just to keep reminding them (and perhaps to enjoy a little trickery). But we moved our lives further than ever from human folk and deeper into the forests where ancient oaks still grew.

For us, this new Bronze Age had brought hell to paradise.

### Chapter Four

### CONSEQUENCES

### Though Faeries are known for deception

### By people with narrow perception

### If you've thought us unkind

### Once you've opened your mind

### You can count on a gracious reception.

Another great disturbance to the way of things was felt by the Faeries: sudden, distant, powerful, and natural. A volcano erupted far enough to the north and west of Caledonia that it initially went unnoticed by the Caledonians. Soon, though, the daytime skies darkened and the people were reminded that even with all their new knowledge, there were still forces in the world they could not control or even understand.

Deterioration in the climate (particularly in the north and west of Caledonia) turned once productive cropland into peat bogs, forcing the people to migrate eastward in search of a more hospitable environment. The subsequent increased population in Eastern Caledonia led to conflicts over the available resources. The tribal culture of Caledonia, in response to this conflict and competition, evolved into a more warrior focused society. Men, women, and even children became expert at hand to hand fighting. This stood the Caledonians well in the face of yet an additional stress to their environment.

Celtic tribes from across the sea (from the land where the Caledonians themselves had once lived before migrating over the now long submerged land bridge) began to invade Caledonia. There were many similarities between the Celts and the Caledonians. They shared the same ancestors, after all. Indeed, some human historians classify the Caledonians as Celtic people. Because their languages had evolved differently, communication was difficult, but not impossible. The Caledonians (though having strayed further from the old ways than suited Faerie folk), had maintained somewhat closer ties to the ancient truths than had the Celts. But both Caledonian and Celt were essentially people of the earth. As such, neither Caledonian nor Celtic cultures left the Faerie folk devoid of hope for humanity. Within both cultures, wedges of accessibility remained open to Faeries.

Both the Celts and the Caledonians were warrior societies. As such, they both adhered to a "heroic code" that demanded of them loyalty and generosity but also led to the beliefs that it was better to avenge than to mourn and that a good warrior would achieve glory before dying. The fierce aggression of the Celts in trying to acquire land was ferociously countered by the Caledonians defending what was theirs. Though the conflict which accompanied the meeting of these two great warrior cultures proved bloody, there was also a mutual respect and understanding which, in time, facilitated the assimilation of the Celts into Caledonian society. Both Celt and Caledonian were too strong-willed to completely surrender their identities. But they shared enough common ground that the resultant culture was not very much different from what either had been before. The Celtic influence seemed to enhance the metal working capabilities of the Caledonians. And Caledonian spiritual values were readily (perhaps one could say "naturally") embraced by the invading Celts: like a mother's love experienced by the once lost son upon finally coming home.

The newly unified Caledonians were still a matrilineal society that celebrated warrior ways. As individuals, they offered their loyalties to one of the many Caledonian clans rather than to any abstract notion of "Caledonianness," or to any nation defined by artificial borders. As the centuries passed into millennia, a few additional minor invasions occurred, all of which were absorbed by the existing Caledonian culture. One of these invasions brought iron to the Caledonians. Though despised by Faerie folk, it became the humans' metal of choice for tool and weapon making.

The passage of time also opened a fissure between how the people understood the world and how it was understood by ancestors who had lived in homes made of stone, buried their dead in stone cairns, and erected circles of stone monoliths that probed as far into Mother Earth as they rose above Her. The original purpose and meaning of the great stone circles was lost. These stone celebrations to the unity of all things were no longer as intimate a part of the people's lives as they once had been. Naturally, this further stressed the connection between Faerie and human.

But though the circles themselves were no longer well understood, the truths they represented still had a place in the Caledonian soul. So the connections between the world, the people, and Faeries survived. The Caledonians continued their reverence for Water and other minor ancient gods and goddesses, and especially for the great Goddess of oneness. Often, Caledonian Kings or chiefs would be symbolically wed to the Goddess in a ceremony designed to unify the people, their leaders, their deities, and the land they all shared. Faeries were acknowledged but generally thought of as beings from the "Otherworld" – a magical realm that existed everywhere but could only be accessed by humans at specific times and places, and under unique circumstances. Faeries viewed these severe restrictions on human access to the Otherworld as just a consequence of the limitations humans placed on their own perception. The Otherworld was not really "other" except in the minds of men, and has always been open to those with open minds. As for the others, it is easy for us to understand how beings so obsessed with physicality would so readily impose such self-limitations on their experience of the world. Though unfortunate in some ways, it did provide Faeries a refuge of sorts from sometimes mean-spirited human society. And there were always people who, refusing to accept those limitations, found interaction with Faerie folk to be both readily available and amiable.

Before long, another growing disturbance to the way of things became evident. It came from over the sea and off to the south. It was human. And there seemed no stopping its approach.

### Chapter Five

### ROMANS

### The relentless advance of their legions

### Overpowered all resistant regions.

### Though their might was immense

### They could mount no defense

### 'Gainst the spirit of brave Caledonians.

The Romans possessed a highly organized political system and an extraordinarily effective military machine. After methodically conquering most of the Celtic lands across the southeastern sea, they loaded their galleys with advanced weaponry and legions of well trained, well armed soldiers and invaded southern Britain. From there, they swiftly made their way north towards Caledonia.

The experiences of our long lifetimes have taught Faeries the value of seeing things from alternative perspectives. So for Faeries, the arrival of Romans, though a cause of some concern, offered an opportunity to learn, to enhance our perspective, to expand our reality and potentially even experience reality in a completely new way, just as the meeting of two cultures can evolve into an entirely new culture.

As it turned out, however, the evolution of our reality was not enhanced by learning to see things as the Romans saw them. They were an intensely focused people. And that intensity enabled admirable accomplishment in the physical world. But their focus was too narrow to expand upon our multi-dimensional experiences. Admittedly, they were very good at manipulating their physical environment. The Caledonians too, influenced the world. Their Stone Circles altered the landscape. But whereas the Stone Circles were monuments to unity and actually facilitated the union of the physical and spiritual worlds, Roman manipulation was based on concentration of power. Their cities were spectacular beyond anything the Caledonians had seen or even imagined could exist (except, perhaps, as the home of the gods). The Romans had built a network of roads and altered the course of rivers. Their focus, though limited in scope and awareness, was concentrated enough to exert their will on the world.

Despite the grandeur of their accomplishments, however, they were just people: mortal flesh. The Caledonians quickly learned that Romans bled.

By the time of Roman arrival in Britain, the Caledonians had mastered the traditions and capabilities bred from millennia of a warrior based culture. There were perhaps no humans on the face of the earth (including the Romans) that could match the hand to hand fighting prowess of a Caledonian man or woman. Caledonian warriors carried deadly, powerful long swords into battle and were accompanied by swift chariots. Initial skirmishes quickly convinced the Romans that the Caledonians would be a difficult foe indeed.

But the Romans had been successful everywhere they had gone, and they were confident they would be successful here. They organized and prepared. The Caledonians, meanwhile, though unmatched in individual combat, were less well organized. Their loyalties were split among their many clans and tribes. But as with the Romans, initial skirmishes convinced them that the might of their opponent was considerable. Also, some had seen the results of roman conquest in southern Britain and heard tales of their conquests elsewhere. The great, redheaded swordsman Calgacus, a chieftain of the Caledonians, is said to have urged unity by saying of the Romans, "Iad dean toillteanas agus abair a sith." ("They create a desert and call it peace.") The Caledonians were not about to allow the land they loved to be so abused. Nor would a people so proud and free submit to subjugation and slavery. So motivated, the Caledonians united under the mighty Calgacus to meet the Roman advance. Befitting their warrior ways, they were confident. The Romans, with shorter swords, could not have defeated the Caledonians had the battle been based on one-on-one fighting. But with better organization and bigger shields, the shorter swords actually facilitated the union of individual roman soldiers into phalanxes which advanced with relative ease through the swirling Caledonian forces, especially when reinforced by the large roman cavalry which the great general Agricola had held in reserve until just the right moment. The battle of Mons Graupius was a bitterly lopsided defeat for the Caledonians at the hands of a highly efficient roman force.

Still, winning a battle is one thing. But subduing a people (especially a people as fierce as the Caledonians) is something else. Despite his success at the battle of Mons Graupius, Agricola was unable to make any significant progress into the heart of Caledonia. He managed to sail around Caledonia and make some temporary landings on her eastern shores. But those efforts produced no lasting influence. Perhaps if the interior of Caledonia had not been so ruggedly intimidating, or perhaps if Rome had had the will to be more aggressive in pursuing its ambitions in Caledonia, things might have been different. But Agricola was summoned back to Rome (the reasons for this, though unclear, presumably have something to do with human politics) and the Romans settled for a policy of containing rather than conquering Caledonia. Even this met with only limited success. For over a century following Agricola's departure, the Caledonians mounted increasingly successful raids into Roman territory, eventually exacting tribute from the Romans. The situation festered like a neglected splinter beneath the skin of roman pride and superiority, eventually becoming intolerable, prodding the increasingly ponderous giant into action. The empire dispatched an army of reinforcements to Britain which successfully but only temporarily subdued the Caledonian tribes, for the Roman victory was followed by yet another Caledonian revolt. While in the process of trying to put down this latest revolt, Roman efforts were again stymied by Roman politics as their leader Caracalla left Britain to be crowned Emperor. Once again, Rome settled for a policy of containment.

This back and forth warfare between Rome and the Caledonians continued for two more centuries. Towards the end of this time, Celtic allies from Ireland (which lay just beyond sight over the southwestern sea) joined their Celtic Caledonian cousins in the fight against Rome. Despite having become firmly established in southern Britain, Rome never did conquer Caledonia. The heart of Caledonia remained secure, the spirit of the people alive and hopeful, their connection with the land and its ancient truths secure. Ultimately, the Romans withdrew from Britain. But Roman influence in Britain, and even in Caledonia, would be profound, even long after they left. The Caledonian people of that time, given the name "Picts" by the Romans, are still referred to as Picts in human history texts. And the Roman methods of organizing (both political and military) were enthusiastically adopted by their southern Briton subjects. Sadly, one distant day, those methods would have an effect on Caledonia similar to what had been envisaged though never realized by Rome itself.

### Chapter Six

### CHRISTIANITY COMES TO THE CALEDONIANS

### The Pictish faith had been Maternal

### Despite Christian missions infernal

### 'Till the roman Church sold them

### That God's word had told them,

### "It's JESUS – or hell fires eternal!"

There are legends among Faerie folk of a time on this earth before humans existed: a time when even the land masses as we now know them did not exist. At that time, it is said, the northern part of what is now Britain, and the southern part of what is now Britain were parts of two separate land masses. In the turmoil of earth changes, these two parts each broke off from their respective land masses, slowly migrated across the face of the earth, and eventually came together to form what we now know as Britain. But Caledonia, in the north of Britain, always was and always would be different from the south. The soul of Caledonia was and is unique.

So perhaps it is more than just the spirit of the people in Caledonia that makes them Caledonians. Perhaps it is the union of the spirit of the people and the soul of Caledonia herself that makes the people in Caledonia Caledonians. Perhaps this is part of what gives Caledonians, no matter where they might originally have come from, such a unique spirit.

The first Christians in Caledonia arrived shortly after the death of their prophet Jesus. They had fled the Roman Empire because their refusal to worship the Emperor as a god had resulted in their persecution. Since Caledonia was not under Roman control, it was a place the early Christians could escape to. The Caledonians lived by a code which called for "Fialachd don fhogarrach, 's cnaimhean briste don eucorach!" ("Hospitality to the exile, and broken bones to the oppressor!") . So the early Christian exiles from Rome found Caledonia to be a place where they were both accepted and secure. According to these early Christian refugees, God could be found within. Achieving atonement, or becoming one with God, they said, could be accomplished by developing godlike qualities within one's self: qualities such as charity, compassion, humility, and forgiveness. But because even the most sincere human effort might not succeed, forgiveness was particularly important. They also believed in a holy spirit: a female holy spirit. This belief melded well with the beliefs of the Caledonians and with the spirit of Caledonia. Although the Caledonians did not convert to Christianity, there was enough common ground to enable coexistence.

Almost four centuries after Rome had persecuted the early Christians, Christianity became the state religion of Rome. But this Roman Church was largely a political creation designed to give the state control over what had been a troublesome new religion. And the Christianity practiced by missionaries of the Roman Church differed somewhat from the Christianity practiced centuries earlier by the refugees from roman persecution. Shortly after Christianity became the state religion of Rome, and not long before Rome withdrew from Britain, a missionary of the Roman Church ventured north from southern Britain into Caledonia hoping to convert the pagan Picts. His name was Nynia. He preached of a single, all-powerful, male god of wrath who (despite humanity's wickedness) was willing to forgive humanity, offering them eternal paradise if (and only if) they would merely accept his loving son as their savior. This message confused the Picts. Though they understood and appreciated the concept of forgiveness, the idea of an original sin that needed to be forgiven was alien to them and difficult to understand. Also, their faith had always been focused on the goddess: a nurturing mother figure. Casting out their goddess worship in favor of a Romanized Christian religion preaching absolute faith in a vengeful father figure did not come naturally for the Caledonians. So, despite the more hopeful Christian teachings of love and forgiveness which survived within Roman theology, Nynia had only very limited success.

Firmly established in Roman occupied Britain, Christianity successfully spread from there (in an only slightly different form) to Ireland, whose people remained allies of the Caledonians in the political and military struggle against Rome. But even after the eventual Roman departure from Britain, the pagan ways of the Picts would still dominate spiritual practice in Caledonia.

While Britain was still occupied by Rome, in order to facilitate their united struggle against the spread of the Roman Empire, the Picts of Caledonia bargained with their allies in Ireland (a short sea voyage to the southwest), allowing one of the Irish tribes to settle part of western Caledonia. This tribe was known as the Scotti. (The land they settled eventually became the kingdom of Dalriada, led by the great chief Fergus Mor.) Though having largely adopted the Christian religion, the Scotti were no more desirous of becoming Roman slaves than were the Picts. Also, the Picts and the Scots (both sharing distant Celtic origins) had much more in common with each other than either had with the Romans. So while the Roman threat persisted, the alliance between Pict and Scot endured.

Once the Romans left, however, tensions between the Picts and Scots escalated, predictably culminating in savage warfare. As already stated, though Faeries are capable of violence, we prefer to rise above that tendency. Human kind, however, seem just as inclined to destroy life through conflict as they are to create it through intimacy. And they are remarkably proficient in both those endeavors. But given the considerable wisdom evident in many human individuals, we wonder if their propensity for warfare is more a result of social structure than personal inclination. Perhaps their institutions make it collectively difficult for them to overcome their tragic tendencies even if individually they might be capable of it. Celtic society, though more equitable than later or more "advanced" cultures, was composed of different classes of people with differing degrees of power and authority. Celtic royalty had the greatest status and therefore had the most to lose. The values of loyalty and glory instilled into the Celtic people by their "heroic code" could be easily manipulated by a royal class determined to preserve its power in the face of any potential threat. Obviously there were some differences between the Picts and the Scots. They had different religions. And, of course, they both wished to protect their families and lands. But should these differences necessarily result in warfare? Faeries would like to think that tragic, bloody conflict between the two, though predictable, was not inevitable. We would like to think that whatever flaws of ignorance or evil might be present in the human character, they are not individually insurmountable. We prefer to believe that the bloodshed which ensued was more the result of the fear felt and demands made by the royal classes. An ancient Gaelic proverb states that "Gheibh righ feachd, 's gheibh domhan daoine." ("Kings will find armies, and the world men.")

Whatever the causes of the deadly warfare, the lives of the Caledonian people were embroiled in turmoil because of it. Finally, a degree of relief from the constant conflict came when King Bridei I led the Picts to a decisive victory over the Scots. But Dalriada maintained its eastern Caledonian sovereignty and would continue to threaten the Picts.

Still, the Pictish victory did result in a period of relative stability, during which the Catholic Church made another attempt to convert the Picts. This time, the missionary was a Scot who had founded a monastery on the Isle of Iona, just off the Caledonian mainland. His name was Columba, and his missionary style was somewhat different than had been Nynia's. Columba was graceful in speech and handsome, almost angelic in appearance. So he had an impressive presence. But perhaps as important to his success was what he promised, and who he made the promises to. Rather than focus his initial efforts on the Pictish people, he chose instead to concentrate on Pictish royalty. "None of your enemies will be able to resist you," he evangelized. King Bridei may not have been immediately convinced. But he was intrigued. So King Bridei offered protection and aid to Columba's ministry among the Picts. Thus empowered by both the standard of the King and the cross of the Lord, Columba's already powerful presence became nearly irresistible. Emboldened by success, he became more aggressive in his ministry: destroying pagan shrines and erecting Christian churches on top of the ruins. Columba's combination of political, spiritual, and physical might proved effective, and the Christ religion spread slowly among the Pictish goddess worshipers.

Columba's monastery on Iona flourished, becoming famous as a center of learning and Christian culture. As such, it facilitated peaceable contacts between the Picts and the Scots. So, though the innate human tendency towards greed, envy, and ambition made periodic flare-ups in hostility between the two inevitable, humanity also had its more promising traits. And Christian teaching, among other things, proved effective in focusing them on their more Christ-like natures. Therefore, the relationship between Scot and Pict was increasingly characterized by compassion, generosity, empathy, and intermarriage. They became like the brothers who could not help but fight with each other, even while their home was being attacked by others.

The departure of the Romans from southern Britain had left behind a power vacuum. While the Romanized tribes of far southern Britain (the Britons) were becoming strong enough to fill the vacuum there, invading Anglo-Saxons had occupied the regions between the Britons and the Caledonians, establishing the mighty kingdom of Northumbria. The Northumbrians had also been Christianized and hoped to bring their version of Christianity (essentially the same as Roman Christianity) to the Picts through force of arms. To Faeries, Christianity is Christianity, and the difference between Ionan and Roman Christianity is imperceptible. But at least to some humans, the difference justified shedding each other's blood. In any event, the Anglo-Saxon king Aethelfrid made some military gains along the Pictish southern frontier. The Anglo-Saxon Northumbrians continued to threaten the Picts for almost a century, until another Pictish king Bridei (Bredei III) annihilated them at the battle of Dunnichen, cleansing Caledonia of the Northumbrian menace, and practically insuring Caledonian independence for the next millennia.

Threats to Caledonian security would persist, however. And despite the gradual spread of Christianity (at least among the nobility), the Caledonians remained warriors: both the Caledonian men and the Caledonian women. But with the spread of Christianity, there came a shift in attitude, for it required, after all, replacing goddess worship with worship of the Christ. So there were some in Pictish society who began to view women as possessing less power than had traditionally been the case. There were also those who took advantage of the changing dynamic by trying to make women seem less deserving of the power and respect they themselves coveted. And so, yet another Pictish king Bridei (Bridei IV) was persuaded to endorse the "Law of Innocents." This law prohibited Pictish women, for the first time ever, from fighting in battle. It also "protected" women, children, and clergy from the "viciousness" of war.

Ionan Christianity continued its spread among the Picts until King Nechtan ("The Philosopher King") expelled the Ionan clergy, establishing an independent Pictish church. Exactly what the differences were between Inoan, Roman, and Pictish Christianity is, again, practically imperceptible to Faeries. But since the Christian church had managed to combine significant political power along with its spiritual authority, Nechtan's action did further secure Pictish independence. It may well be, however, that Nechtan's motivations rose beyond mere political concerns, for he later abdicated his throne to become a monk.

Tensions between the Picts and the Scots gradually escalated. But so did the connections between them via intermarriage. Though the Northumbrian threat had been largely eliminated and the Britons had not yet become a significant threat, another power (the seafaring Norsemen) began menacing Caledonia from the north. The union of Scot and Pict may have been inevitable, given the increasing mixture of Scot blood among Pictish rulers, but the growing Norse threat likely accelerated the process. At a time when the Picts had been weakened by warfare with the Norsemen, the King of the Scots (Kenneth MacAlpin) was also the son of a Pictish Princess. Because the Scots were a patrilineal society while the Picts still traced ancestry through their mothers, MacAlpin had a legitimate claim to the thrones of both the Scotts and the Picts. These claims, along with the reality of a Pictish fighting force that had been weakened by battling the Norsemen, made it relatively easy for Kenneth MacAlpin to become the first king of a Caledonia that united both Pict and Scot. The primacy of the goddess that had always been part of Pictish culture did not survive the combined influences of Christianity and the Scots. The Caledonians would henceforward identify themselves through their fathers rather than through their mothers. And the Scots would give their name to the united lands which would one day reach well beyond Caledonia. For Faeries, though, the soul of the nation was forever Caledonian, and it thrived most beautifully in the highlands.

The Christianization of Caledonia coincided with the hybridization of its people. The new Caledonian was a union of Scot and Pict with even some Norse and Anglo-Saxon blood thrown in to the mixture. But Caledonia was still Caledonia, and its spirit was eternal. And within this new union of peoples and the land, the unique spirit of the Caledonian people endured, even if somewhat obscured by the formalized surface trappings of their new religion. If Christianity grew throughout Caledonia by promising the people paradise in return for accepting Christ, and by promising Caledonian royalty invincibility, and by building its churches on top of pagan holy sites, then the foundation of this Caledonian Christianity remained pagan. And even if goddess worship no longer dominated, reverence for the new god's mother Mary flourished deep within the heart of common Caledonians, as did their connection with the ancient magics, and with Faeries.

### Chapter Seven

### ARISTOCRATS

### The feudal civilization

### And the highland population

### Did not get along

### 'Cause the Celts thought it wrong

### That wealth should enslave the nation.

The union of Spirit shared by the Faeries, common people, and land of Caledonia was a source of enjoyment for the Faeries. And we had faith that this connection would endure. But it was already apparent that the accelerating intrigues of an expanding human population were challenging the continued vitality of that union. In fact, the challenge was seen as potent enough to be (if we Faeries had been any less lighthearted than we like to think we are) considerably disheartening. Yet things would soon become still more trying: what with the human propensities for ambition, greed, short-sightedness, brutality, and all that begetting of other humans. Faeries are certainly not without vice, nor are humans without virtue. But events now seemed to be twisting inevitably toward tragedy.

Out of the merger of Pict and Scot came the Celtic tradition of the Derbfine: a group of men whose great-grandfathers had been kings and from whom the next Caledonian king would be chosen. This proved to be a gruesomely inefficient system predictably corrupted by ambition. Assassination became fairly common within the Derbfine as individuals tried to maximize their personal prospects of being chosen king. Thus, two centuries after MacAlpin united the Picts and Scots, MacBeth was chosen as king after killing Duncan. Duncan's son Malcolm escaped south to England, where he learned English ways and eventually returned with an avenging army to defeat MacBeth and become King Malcolm III, who would be known as "The Canmore." (Canmore is the anglicized version of the Gaelic words for "Great Chief." English historians would later misinterpret their mispronounced Gaelic as meaning "big head" instead of Great Chief.) Malcolm III then did away with the Derbfine system, replacing it with the English system of direct succession through the male line, theoretically establishing a dynasty for his Canmore heirs.

Meanwhile, England was also undergoing changes. The Anglo-Saxon people who had established their dominance in England (and who had given that land their name) were experiencing their own royal succession intrigues – at the same time as they were battling a bloody invasion from Norway. AND, as this was going on, William of Normandy (who felt he was the rightful heir to the English throne) also invaded England. Normandy had been a region of France, owing allegiance to the French King. But through shrewd political maneuvering and savage intimidation, William had consolidated enough strength to both secure effective independence for Normandy and mount a successful invasion of England. The Anglo-Saxons had managed to defeat the Norwegian threat, but were left too weak to fight off William as well. The Anglo-Saxon king and his brothers were all killed in the struggle and William the Conqueror was crowned king of England. William was a ruthless but savvy monarch who possessed organizational skills reminiscent of the Romans. Rather than destroy English institutions, he enhanced them with Norman efficiency. This Normanized English system would filter north into Scotland.

Malcolm Canmore's second wife Margaret had been living in England and was strongly influenced by the Norman ways she brought with her to Malcolm's court. Margaret was a devout woman with a generous spirit. But she also had a weakness for the finer things of English and Norman aristocratic culture. Believing the Caledonian church to be primitive and corrupt, she fought to reorganize it on what she viewed as the Roman ideal of piety, encouraging its monks to adopt lives of poverty and celibacy. During the day, she would venture out among the people, presenting a positive example of grace, faith, and benevolence, even suggesting she would rather be a nun than a queen. But she always returned to the comforts of the royal court. Malcolm adored her and did everything he could to adopt the Norman ways she preferred, even abandoning his own native Gaelic language while in her presence.

Among the Anglo-Norman ways introduced to Scotland by Malcolm Canmore was feudalism. Traditionally, Celtic loyalty had been based on blood ties. The followers of a Celtic chief were his kin. But the followers of a feudal lord were vassals bought and sold with the land. Malcolm Canmore, through land grants made to Anglo-Norman lords, and through savage enforcement of the new policies, feudalized much of the south and east of Scotland. In old Caledonia, however, the Highland and Island Clans of northern and western Scotland managed to resist King Malcolm's feudalization and hold onto their traditional Celtic way of life.

Upon Malcolm's death in battle, his brother "Donald the Fair" (Donald Bane) came down out of the highland mists to claim the throne, invoking the ancient pictish tradition of lateral succession. He was a heroic figure and valiant leader whose sword bore the inscription "Na tarraing mi gun adhbhar, 's na pill mi gun chliu" ("Niether draw me without cause, nor return me without honor"). Malcolm's Son Duncan (from Malcolm's fist marriage) briefly deposed Donald with English and French help, but was subsequently murdered and Donald Bane regained the Scottish throne. Donald Bane did much to drive out the Englishmen and English ways that had been brought to the Scottish court by Malcolm and Margaret. His efforts to reverse feudalism and keep all of Scotland truly Celtic, though admirable and somewhat successful, were only short-lived. Perhaps he should have been content to remain in the highlands, consolidating his power there and forging what might have remained an independent, Celtic Caledonia. But satisfaction with what they had (no matter how great their wealth or how costly their ambitions) was not a typical characteristic of Scottish royalty. Whatever the motivations for his decision (whether realistic defensive considerations, or expansionist aspirations, or honor, or glory, or some aristocratic power-induced blood-lust), Donald Bane chose to lead an army south into the non-Caledonian lowlands of Northumbria. There, he was defeated by Edgar, the second son of Malcolm and Margaret. Flushed with his victory and feeling magnanimous towards his uncle, Edgar spared Donald's life, merely putting out the old man's eyes and leaving him to rot in prison.

Donald Bane would be the last truly Celtic king of Scotland. Edgar, though half Scottish by blood, was of decidedly Anglo-Norman character. So too were the two brothers who succeeded him (Alexander and David). They preferred the Scottish lowlands bordering England to the mountainous Caledonian heartland. While king (in an act indicative of his disregard for the wilder, Caledonian regions of his realm) Edgar actually ceded sovereignty of the northern and western Caledonian islands to Norway. All three brothers had spent much of their early lives in England. This, the connections made while there, the debts they owed Anglo-Normans for the ascendancy of their line to the Scottish throne, and the numerous marriages of their kinsmen into the royal Norman house, all combined to motivate and reinvigorate the Normanization of Scotland.

David, the last and most English of the three, accelerated efforts to Romanize the Scottish church, filling Scottish monastic houses with Anglo-Norman monks. He also brought many of his English, Norman, and Flemish friends with him to the Scottish court, granting them hereditary land holdings and feudal power over the people on those lands. David viewed the Flemish presence, in particular, as desirable for their experience in trade, agriculture, and urban development. Some of the families thus brought to Scotland would, in time, become Scottish clans in their own right (even if that clan system would be a more formal, organized version of the tribal clan system that persisted in the Scottish highlands and islands). Among the friends David established in Scotland were the families Balliol, Bruce, and FitzAlan. David appointed the FitzAlans as the "hereditary Stewards of Scotland," and their descendents would be known as the Stewarts.

To secure their newly granted Scottish holdings, these Anglo-Norman lords built large fortresses. Initially constructed of timber and earth, they would evolve into great stone castles. Imposing enough to impress upon the Scottish people the power and permanence of their new rulers, these castles had within their walls all that was necessary to sustain the comfortable lives of the aristocracy. The native Celtic people did not submit willingly to the feudalistic English ways being thrust upon them. But the might of David's armies consistently overcame the Celtic rebellions, firmly securing feudalism in the lowlands, and driving hopes for an independent Celtic state ever deeper into the forests and highlands of the Caledonian regions of Scotland.

After David's death, his eldest grandson was crowned King Malcolm IV. Then, when Malcolm IV died young, his brother William "The Lion" inherited the crown. William's standard was a rearing scarlet lion on a yellow field and would become the traditional standard of Scottish royalty. William himself was red-haired, vigorous, dynamic, and... ambitious. Northumbria, which had been passing back and forth between English and Scottish rule, was ruled by England when "The Lion" became king of Scotland. So with a consistency of aristocratic decision making that continues to bemuse Faeries, William decided to lead yet another army into Northumbria to yet again recapture it for Scotland. Well, at least he valiantly led the army himself rather than just sending his subjects to do his fighting (and dying) for him. He was captured.

Childless at that point, William was faced with the prospects of both life in prison and the end of the Canmore line. So he eventually submitted to the English King Henry's demands and signed the treaty of Falaise, which returned "The Lion" to Scotland but essentially made everyone in Scotland a vassal in servitude to the English king. As expected, the Caledonian spirit of the highlanders precluded any willing such subjugation. But there was little resistance from the lowlands, except among the clergy of the Scottish church. Indeed, clergy throughout Scotland defied the terms of this treaty with some success, ultimately persuading the Pope to rule that rather than being subject to the English church, the independent Scottish church would owe allegiance only to Rome.

William was still the vassal king of Scotland when Henry died, leaving the English throne to Richard the Lionheart. Because Richard needed to finance military ambitions elsewhere, William was able to purchase Scotland's (and his) release from the treaty of Falaise with silver.

Upon William's death, the Scottish Crown went to William's son Alexander II and then to the son of Alexander II, Alexander III. Alexander III was able to win back the western Isles (which had been ceded to Norway by his great-great-great granduncle Edgar) for Scotland. It should be noted, however, that this transfer of official power from Norway to Scotland mattered little to the Islemen, who acknowledged the authority of neither. And though the western Islands had been "returned" to Scotland, the northern Isles would remain "with" Norway for a while longer.

The reign of Alexander III was one of relative peace between England and Scotland. In this environment, trading communities sprung up and flourished around ever more elaborate castles. Although it would not be entirely fair to suggest that the Scottish aristocracy at that time was insensitive to the natural spirit of the Caledonian heartland, it is never-the-less true that they were largely of Norman, English, and French blood rather than Celtic, and they prided themselves in their display of French culture. In time, however, these initially foreign aristocrats began to identify more and more with one another as well as with their common lands, loyalties, and interests, eventually embracing their Scottish identity. Certainly, though, the "Scottishness" they felt was, at least at first, less natural spirit than national pride. And this Scottish nation they identified with and took pride in was an abstraction which, though including Caledonia, also included lands further south: lands foreign to the original land mass that had spawned Caledonia and foreign to the natural Caledonian spirit. Most of this Scottish aristocracy felt more at home in the lowlands than they did in the highlands and their tendency was to isolate themselves from the lands, the people, and the spirit of Caledonia.

As the years had turned to decades, and the decades to centuries, and humanity reproduced itself in ever-increasing numbers, and more and more different cultures found their way to Caledonia, the interaction between man and land became ever more stressed and complicated. When cultures collide, there is hope that out of the initial period of instability there will emerge a union which celebrates the best natures common to all humanity. Technological progress, of course, seems ever enhanced by the merging of different cultures. But what of the human spirit? Is there not some strength of character deep within the human souls of all cultures which, when these cultures are combined, could result in an enhanced spirit, or at least a culture which lives up to the spiritual strengths of character held in common by humans of all cultures? Thus, it seems to Faeries, is how it ought to be. Yet our longevity affords us a longer term perspective which has shown us that such hoped for spiritual strength rarely manifests itself. More typically, when disparate human cultures unite, the differences in technological practice will be explored, while the differences in spiritual practice will induce suspicions which foster separation. But Caledonia is different from other places. The spirit of the Caledonian people is not dependent only on humanity. It is the combination of the spirit of the people and the spirit of Caledonia itself that makes people Caledonians.

So, despite ever increasing pressures between man and land in Caledonia, the Caledonian spirit survived in those who remained close to the land. But could that spirit really thrive within the souls of an aristocracy who preferred life in the lowlands to life in the highland heart of Caledonia? To Faeries, it was apparent that there was a spiritual rift within the nation of Scotland that knifed far deeper into the human soul than that caused by any arguments among various Christian authorities. The Anglo-Normans had largely "civilized" Scotland. Religious, military, and financial power had all been concentrated and centralized. Trading centers supplanted farming communities. Allegiances were based on finance rather than family. But "progress" is not necessarily better than loyalty, and "civilized" is not necessarily better than wild. And the progress of this civilization stalled in the wild heart of Caledonia. If the political and religious intrigues of a lowland Scottish officialdom drove the Caledonian spirit ever deeper within its highland heart, there it persisted. And there, the lives of common people changed but little. The Caledonian forests, though diminished, were still vast, teeming with wild game. Traditional Caledonian Clans (though still bickering amongst themselves) thrived deep within their highland glens, living close to the land, celebrating a spirit barely understood by an aristocracy who often viewed the highlanders as an obstacle to progress rather than as a people.

All this might seem very, even deadly serious. And indeed it was taken quite seriously by many of those involved. But by nature, Faeries are lighthearted beings, and we generally remained so despite our intimate connection with the lands and people that felt so heavily impacted by these events. A tendency towards melancholy is not unknown among Faeries. But we typically overcome it. Sometimes a good practical joke on an unsuspecting human is of immense value in this regard. But, again, it is our longevity which may be primarily responsible for our ability to maintain carefree spirits in the face of such terrible events. From our longer-lived perspective, the tragedies which can occupy large portions of individual human lifetimes seem... not less tragic, but certainly less significant in terms of total relative impact. Also, it is more apparent to us that these individual events are part of larger cycles. Life goes 'round. And though it does not circle back again and again to the exact same place, life does spiral 'round and 'round like a spring, so it is always near to, if not precisely at, where it has been before. So in a way, everything that seems new and dramatic and depressingly serious from a human perspective is, to Faeries, familiar, unsurprising, and sometimes (no disrespect intended) somewhat comical.

However, despite our generally muted reaction to human drama, we do acknowledge and understand how important the events of each human life are to the one living that life. We even agree that those events actually do have some significance, because (as has already been stated) though things seem ever similar, life never exactly repeats itself. So there is always the ability to make a choice that can make a difference, even if only on an individual scale. Perhaps, then, rather than humans being guilty of overemphasizing the drama of life, it is Faeries who are guilty of underemphasizing it. Perhaps our personal experiences spanning millennia lead us to pay more attention to cultural rather than individual evolution. So though it is apparent to us that clashes of human cultures rarely evolve into a society that manifests all (or even most of) the best of both cultures, there are always individual humans who manage to realize levels of insight, awareness, and accomplishment well beyond the potential that could reasonably have been hoped for.

Perhaps it is the way of things that because human lifetimes are so short, the human experience is so intense, and human reproduction so vigorous. My purpose is not to criticize human sexuality. Faeries too, can take physical form and are therefore capable of appreciating sexual intimacy (even if at the more relaxed pace afforded us by our longevity). It is just that although we are capable of being physical, we tend to prefer our ethereal lives. And from the ethereal perspective, all this drama, and all this vigorous human begetting can sometimes seem like desperate and ultimately futile grasps at immortality. But that perspective, I have come to believe, does not do the human experience justice. Though the duration of human lives seem brief to Faeries, unless taken before their natural end humans seem to feel they have lived long enough. Even when forced to leave this life before their time, they often seem ready to face an end that Faeries have difficulty even contemplating. And yet, despite being ready to die, and despite their certainty that death is inevitable, they will strive to defeat it. But though their efforts to beat the unbeatable are heroic, and though the monuments they erect are impressive, and the wars they pursue terrible, their greatest accomplishments may well be found in the minutiae of their little lives: the chores they do to feed their families, the songs they sing, laughter, dance, the way they touch one another and the way they connect with the world around them. It is true that humans sometimes ignore the magic in the world. But it is also true that Faeries sometimes ignore the magic in humanity. In the cycle of human life, death is followed by birth. I have come to accept that the birth of each individual child also gives birth to new hope, and that magic exists not only in birth, but also in the hope and love that exist in the human experience as they await death.

### Chapter Eight

### THE DECLARATION

### At Arbroath the Scots did decree

### That they must forever be free

### From English aggressions

### And selfish intentions

### Of kings who should good stewards be.

When Alexander III died, he left only one living heir: his infant granddaughter Margaret. There were some in Scotland who did not relish the prospect of a child queen, and some others who saw it as an opportunity to effect changes which they thought might suit them. So two Scottish bishops contacted Margaret's great-uncle Edward, the King of England, and asked him to intervene. Edward then arranged a marriage between his young son (Prince Edward), and Margaret (who was but one year older than the prince). When Margaret died at sea before the union had been completed, there was no direct successor to the Scottish throne. A dozen contenders sprung forth. Of these, the most powerful were John Balliol and Robert Bruce: both with roots in Flemish/Norman aristocracy and both of whom promised to accept Edward's choice for monarch of Scotland. They also both agreed that should they be the one chosen by Edward, in exchange they would accept Edward as their sovereign. None of the other Scottish lords were initially willing to accept this arrangement, viewing it as a sacrifice of Scottish freedom. But the power of Balliol and Bruce was such that one by one, each of the great Scottish lords was eventually persuaded to lend their support to one or the other. As Edward delayed his decision again, and again, the tensions between the supporters of Bruce and Balliol increased. Civil war loomed. Bruce, though of Norman/Flemish descent, became the choice of the northern Earls who traced their ancestry to the Picts. But others chose Balliol, who's claim of succession (though distant) was technically stronger than the Bruce's. Edward eventually chose Balliol, likely identifying him as less strong-willed than Bruce, and therefore more easily controlled.

After being installed as King of Scotland, Balliol traveled to England where (in a gesture that would define the relationship between Edward and Balliol) he knelt in homage before Edward. In the months and years that followed, Edward repeatedly humiliated the King of Scotland, fostering Scottish hostility toward both Balliol and England. Ultimately, even Balliol was pushed too far. When ordered to provide men and money for an English war against France, Balliol instead concluded an alliance with King Phillip of France, voiding his homage to Edward of England by declaring it had been coerced under threat of violence. In retaliation, Edward immediately seized Balliol's estates in England. Then, finally emboldened, Balliol expelled all English land-owners from Scotland, including the Bruces. Thus expelled, the still largely Norman Bruces pledged their swords to England, anticipating that an English victory over the Scots would restore their Scottish holdings. Indeed, though the elder Robert Bruce had recently died, his grandson the younger Robert Bruce quickly had the Bruce lands restored to him by the viciousness of the English response. Scottish resistance to the English onslaught was disorganized and ineffective. Balliol was captured and, following a self-flagellating plea for mercy, unceremoniously sent to a relatively comfortable captivity in England. Meanwhile, Balliol's subjects, the common Scottish people, were subjected to all the merciless, vindictive, rapine horrors of which the English army was capable – and they were supremely capable (not that the Scots could have been counted on to treat the English any better had opportunities been reversed).

If Edward thought he had broken the will of the Scots, or if he thought such "filth" (as he called them) incapable of fighting back, he was mistaken. The cruelty with which the English treated the Scots lit a fire under the Scottish spirit and set it to simmering. It was not long before the simmer turned to a boil. Rebellions were bubbling up throughout Scotland. In the Caledonian mountains to the north, a Gaelic army was gathering under Andrew DeMoray. In the southwest, pushed beyond the point of breaking by the barbarity of English soldiers, William Wallace exploded into Scottish history with a vengeful rage resulting in the murder of an abusive English Sheriff and his entire garrison. Word of this sudden success against the now obviously vulnerable oppressors spread quickly. Wallace found himself the leader of a small army that grew ever greater as he headed north into Caledonia.

Scottish pride and spirit were perhaps at their most powerful in the Northlands and Islands of Caledonia. And here, both Wallace and DeMoray achieved victory after victory over the hated English. The armies of Wallace and DeMoray united into a single force that was captained mostly by Clan Chiefs and composed of low and middle born folk carrying home-made long spears, axes, and knives, and wearing hides and homespun cloth. Swords, helmets, and armor were rare in this army of common people. They came down out of the mountains onto the Stirling plain, intent on regaining their freedom and avenging English atrocities. There they met a great English army of bowmen, and armored knights mounted on gilded war horses. The English force was commanded by Hugh Cressingham who, through overconfidence, or impatience, or incompetence led his army to battle across a narrow bridge and onto a marshy meadow. There, with much of the English army still on the other side of the river, the Scots descended on them with a savage fury that annihilated those who had managed to cross the bridge. Then the English left on the other side struggled to flee the advance of the slaughtering Scots. Cressingham's skin was stripped off his body. Some of it was made into a sheath for Wallace's sword and some paraded victoriously about the country.

The Scottish army pursued the English south into England, marauding and murdering as they went. When their vengelust had been sated, they returned to Scotland free men. Shortly thereafter, DeMoray died of wounds he had received at Sterling Bridge, leaving Wallace as the guardian of Scotland. His army of peasants, farmers, clansmen, and townspeople from both lowland and highland had fought so that the Scottish people would be free of tyranny. This was a fight the aristocracy had little interest in joining. The great lords of Scotland and England generally had interests and properties in multiple countries. They would lead armies into battle in tyrannical attempts to secure greater personal power, but usually not in an attempt to do what was best for the people who they intended should serve them. So the Scottish aristocracy did not join this fight for Scottish freedom. Indeed, some fought with England against it.

The Scottish people, led by DeMoray and Wallace, had achieved a great victory for themselves. But it would not last. After a peace treaty ended the English war with France, King Edward of England personally led a reinvigorated army north into Scotland. With colorful banners streaming above shimmering, polished steel, and with the mounting cacophony of creaking wagon wheels and thousands of trampling footsteps and hoof beats, the approaching English host presented a formidable spectacle. At dusk, the sun setting brilliantly through the dust trailing behind them added a glorious, comet like aura to the terrible procession. For Faeries, it was a reminder that the world of men is both horrible and beautiful. For the Scottish people gathered in defense of their freedom, and particularly for the Gaelic speaking Caledonians: "Is mios' an t-eagal na 'n cogadh" (fear is worse than fighting). So they fought, fearlessly. At Falkirk, Wallace and his men were dealt a terrible defeat by the English legions. Wallace escaped. But the united Scottish army had been decimated. The English army, though victorious, was severely fatigued and withdrew to Edinburgh (the lowland capital of Scotland).

The Scottish fight for freedom survived, but it devolved to skirmishes protecting disjoined pockets of rebellion. There was now no unifying power in Scotland to stand against Edward's claim of sovereignty (though Rome reminded Edward that Scotland answered only to the Pope, not to England). Ultimately, Wallace was betrayed and captured. For the crime of uniting the Scottish people against English tyranny, he was emasculated, hung, drawn, and his entrails burned before his eyes while he still clung to life. Once finally dead, he was quartered and beheaded. His head and mutilated quarters were separated and displayed in five different parts of the kingdom as a warning against low-born ambition.

With the Guardian of Scotland thus disposed of, Scottish aristocracy resumed their convoluted chase for the Scottish throne. Again, the two most powerful claimants were a Balliol and a Bruce, both of whom had pledged fealty to Edward of England. Exactly what happened when the two held council together at a Scottish church is known only to those present at the time. But Robert Bruce was the one who emerged from that church alive, and with an invigorated wish to rebel against English oppression. Had Bruce decided before the meeting with Balliol that he would renounce his fealty to Edward and fight for Scottish freedom? Or was Bruce's newfound Scottish patriotism born of the certainty that Edward's wrath would descend on Bruce for the murder of Balliol? Whichever was the case, Scotland had a new champion.

Bruce and his brothers took some English held castles and, after receiving absolution for his sin from Bishop Wishart (but not from the Pope), Robert was crowned King of Scotland. Edward's vengeance was merciless. Those even suspected of being Bruce family or friends were chased down by Edward's Captains and dispatched with gruesome finality. But support for Bruce slowly built, especially in the north and west, where the Caledonians saw something in Bruce that inspired and fueled their ancient Celtic fire. Within a few months, his growing strength enabled a few victories. Enraged by this news, the aging Edward decided to again lead an army north into Scotland himself. But the years had sapped the vitality from this once fearsome warrior, leaving him too weak to survive the journey. He died before reaching the Scottish border.

Along with the loss of their king, the English seemed also to loose their will for constantly battling the persistently rebellious Scots – at least for a time. Civil war briefly darkened the Scottish countryside as Balliol supporters rejected Bruce's Kingship. But Bruce demonstrated a genius for warfare which, with the help of his brothers, united an independent Scotland under a Scottish king who defied England and bowed before no man.

It took the English a few years before they were ready to mount another offensive against the Scots. When they finally did, they did so with perhaps the most formidable army ever seen. As the English host approached Sterling, the earth shook. They had better armor and superior weaponry to the Scots, and also outnumbered them three to one. But Bruce's army was largely Celtic, and they had been warriors since boyhood. The greatly outnumbered Scots outmaneuvered the English, taking the offensive and effectively shrinking the battlefield so that the English could not properly deploy their superior numbers. The English heavy cavalry got bogged down and became vulnerable to the Scottish long spears. The Battle of Bannockburn turned into a rout: a great victory for Robert the Bruce and for Scottish independence, a terrible defeat for the English and for their ambitions to rule Scotland.

Despite the now firm establishment of both Scottish independence and Robert the Bruce as Scottish King, the English king Edward II refused to acknowledge either. Periodic English sword rattling persisted. But the crippling defeat they had suffered at Bannockburn, along with Bruce's continued offensive diversions across the borderlands, kept the English off balance and their sword rattling more an annoyance than a threat. Edward's disrespect was galling, however, especially in light of what the Scots viewed as disrespect from the Pope as well, who insisted on addressing Bruce as "governor" rather than "King." This motivated an assembly of Scottish lords at Arbroath Abbey to draft a dignified but defiant open letter to the Holy Father. This Declaration of Arbroath blasted the English for having stolen Scottish freedom and praised Bruce for having delivered Scotland from unspeakable English evils and for being the rightful successor to a long line of Scottish Kings. But this Scottish Declaration of Independence did more than just assert Scottish independence and praise King Robert the Bruce. It proclaimed that should Bruce "agree to make us or our kingdom subject to the King of England or the English, we should exert ourselves at once to drive him out as our enemy and a subverter of his own rights and ours, and make some other man who was well able to defend us our King; for, as long as but a hundred of us remain alive, never will we on any conditions be brought under English rule. It is in truth not for glory, nor riches, nor honors that we are fighting, but for freedom — for that alone, which no true man gives up but with life itself."

The Declaration of Arbroath therefore asserted two notions which (for that day) were novel and perhaps even earth-shaking: first that liberty was something real and even more valuable than life itself; second that devotion to freedom of the Scottish people took precedence over devotion to any king or royal family. As such, the Declaration of Arbroath (coming some four or five centuries before the now better known American Declaration of Independence) was and remains one of the most remarkable secular documents in human history.

It did not happen overnight. But in time, and with the help of still more Scottish victories over English forces, both the Pope and the young English King Edward III officially recognized Robert Bruce as the King of Scotland. Edward also renounced all claims of sovereignty over Scotland. To celebrate and consummate the new peace between the two nations, Edward's seven year old sister Joan was wed to Robert's five year old son David.

Robert the Bruce became a legend: perhaps the greatest of all Scottish Kings. His power was such that once without it, Scotland struggled to keep hold of the independence and strength which King Robert Bruce had molded and maintained. With Robert dead and his heir David still a child, Scotland came to be ruled by regents in conjunction with a parliament while David was being educated in France. Meanwhile, the English reasserted themselves, won some great victories, and ushered a Balliol to the throne of Scotland. Upon David's triumphant return from France, however, the Balliol fled to England and David Bruce regained the throne. Unfortunately, David was not the man his father was. Courageous but perhaps unwise in battle, he found himself imprisoned in England, begging the Scottish Parliament for the ransom that would return him to Scotland. But part of the deal sought by David would give his crown to the King of England. The Scottish Parliament would have none of that. After twelve years of relatively easy confinement in England, David was finally returned to Scotland in exchange for a ransom which (though extremely costly) did not sacrifice Scottish independence. But by then, David had become thoroughly anglicized. For the rest of his reign, he longed for the fanciful pleasures of the English court, resenting his life in Scotland and even offering the English his crown in exchange for a lifestyle more to his liking – a deal the Scottish Parliament of course refused.

So once again we see a Scottish aristocrat forsaking his responsibilities as leader of the nation and prostrating himself before English culture. Human history repeating itself so often, once a reliable source of entertainment for Faeries, was beginning to seem almost heartbreaking. We could advise them against such foolishness. But, much like children, it seems humanity must learn these lessons for itself. Unfortunately, their short individual lives require that lessons be repeatedly relearned, and that the same mistakes be made over and over again, generation after generation.

If David's time in Scotland was somehow difficult for him, neither was his reign easy for the Scottish people. The Scottish treasury had been decimated paying for David's ransom. And it was during David's reign that the Black Death inflicted its horrible suffering on the health and spirit of the Scottish people, symbolizing the decline of Scottish fortunes since the Death of King Robert. Fond remembrance and longing for the days of Robert the Bruce grew, as did his legend.

Scotland and David tolerated one another. But upon David's death, in a spirit true to the principles established by the Declaration of Arbroath, Parliament decided that rather than allow the Crown to go to any offspring of one who had been so willing to sell out Scottish independence, it would be better to choose someone who they thought would be more likely to pursue the best interests of the Scottish people. Robert the Bruce's daughter Marjorie had married Walter FitzAlan – the hereditary High Steward of Scotland. The son of Marjorie and Walter was Robert Stewart: the grandson of Robert the Bruce. It was also his hereditary responsibility as Steward to advocate what was best for Scotland and the Scottish people. Since Robert Stewart was descended from Robert the Bruce through his mother, his ascendancy to the Scottish throne affirmed both a principle of The Declaration and the ancient Caledonian principle of matrilineal descent.

Things did not go quite as Parliament had hoped, however. Though Robert Stewart remained true to the prerogatives of his hereditary Scottish stewardship, his reign was soured by increasing antagonism and infighting among the Scottish nobility: a situation which persisted and accelerated over the course of his reign and the reigns of several Stewart successors. From these aristocratic aggressions there emerged a few very powerful Scottish nobles with minor kingdoms of their own within Scotland. For two centuries, these clans and minor kingdoms fought amongst themselves to expand, maintain, or regain their power. At the same time, they had also to battle the armies of the Stewart Kings who fought to keep Scotland whole.

There were always English offers of wealth and power to Scottish aristocrats willing to betray their countrymen. And for some, these offers proved too tempting to resist. But the reality of English belligerence and atrocity over the centuries had instilled within the people of Scotland an ever growing hatred of the English. So in general, the separate powers within Scotland came together sufficiently enough (even if sometimes reluctantly) to ensure a Scottish Monarchy strong enough to keep the English menace at bay.

The line of male Stewart Kings managed (with some setbacks along the way) to maintain Scottish independence if not Scottish unity. The Scottish lords continued their intrigues, the Clans continued their bickering, and the cultural rift between north and south continued as well (the Celtic ways and Gaelic language remaining strong in the Caledonian highlands and islands while the lowlands increasingly adopted the English ways and language). But Scotland endured and the Stewart royal line persevered.

The brutality of this period was not limited to just England, or even to just England and Scotland, but is, apparently, part of the human condition. For humanity, both collectively and individually, has the capacity for great evil. But they also have the capacity for great good. It is right and proper, therefore, that any acknowledgement of humanity's brutality, and of the horrors and pain they so readily inflict on one another, be balanced by an appreciation for their efforts to rise above their meaner, violent, selfish tendencies to embrace instead the more loving, selfless side of their potential. Though I have always loved my human cousins, it has pained me to see how readily they surrender their souls to fear and greed. They submit too willingly to the abuses of authority and are quickly corrupted by power. It is therefore a great joy to see rulers who, instead of pursuing personal enrichment, choose to make stewardship of the land and people their priority. The Stewarts are a remarkable royal lineage whose chivalrous ideal is to serve rather than be served. Such selflessness earns for humanity praise as great as the condemnation they deserve for their barbarity. Just as remarkable and praiseworthy is the wonder of common people who are willing to sacrifice their already inconceivably short lives in a fight to attain freedom for others: the freedom to choose for themselves (rather than having to follow the dictates of the powerful) how they will worship and who will be their leaders – potentially even the freedom to choose good over evil.

### Chapter Nine

### REFORMATION

### "What we most need," he yelled, "is reform!

### 'Tis MY way must now be the norm!"

### But how can they rejoice

### In their freedom of choice

### If to him they must all now conform?

Wouldn't it be nice if one's actions were reliably consistent with one's ideals? And wouldn't it be nice if the freedom to choose right over wrong guaranteed that the best possible choice would always be made? But even Faeries don't always choose wisely. And humans are certainly no better, often making bad decisions. So even though there are individuals who generally make enlightened choices, within any group of people it is much more likely that someone will choose unwisely. And, of course, the more people there are in that group, the more certain we are to see selfish or otherwise undesirable decisions and behaviors. Perhaps this helps to explain the inherent flaw in human bureaucracy: the larger an institution becomes, the more likely it is to be plagued by corruption and inefficiency. Such problems seem inevitable, even in organizations whose original intent was righteous. When that righteous intent becomes corrupted enough to induce reform, what generally happens is that one bureaucracy replaces another. The new bureaucracy then grows, becoming increasingly entrenched, inefficient, and corrupt.

In the fifteen centuries since Christ's death, the Catholic Church had become very large and powerful. It had also become plagued with corruption. But the existence of corrupt individuals within a bureaucracy is to be expected: whether it is secular or religious, and whether it is Catholicism or some other religion. So the unfortunate reality of corruption within the Catholic Church should not be sufficient justification for condemning the entire Catholic faith. Indeed, though the Christian Church is not popular among Faeries, untold numbers of humans have lived righteous, successful lives based on Catholic faith, and there is little doubt (at least among Faeries) that Catholicism could still provide a path to salvation for the faithful. Still, at that time there were often too many greedy hands between the sinner and salvation. Bishops and parish priests alike were amassing great wealth by charging the people for Christ's grace. So perhaps the time had come when some people would be better served by a different path to their God.

So it was that in an age of increasing acceptance of liberty as something worth fighting for, the fight for religious freedom took root and spread. It started with requests to make salvation more readily available to the seeker. Instead of being preached to in a language they did not understand and told what these strange words meant by authorities demanding payment for providing access to scripture, people cried out for direct access to the Bible and other religious texts in their own language. The cries of the people became demands for "salvation through faith alone" rather than through bribery. The Catholic Church made efforts to offer the people some of the reforms they wanted. But the bureaucracy was so extensive and entrenched that change would come slowly: too slowly for some. So the reformers broke with the Church of Rome. In nations such as France and Spain, where the Catholic Church had strong royal/political support, Catholicism remained dominant. But in Germany and Switzerland, Protestantism flourished. Not all reformers agreed with one another, so as Protestantism spread, it took somewhat different forms. The Church of England had already established a degree of independence from Rome. So Protestantism grew with relative ease there, though in England, the monarchy preserved for itself a relatively large degree of control over the new religion. And there were those within England who still chose to remain true to their Catholic faith.

Though reformist sentiments had been simmering in Scotland for some time, a change in Scotland's political climate offered the reformers an opportunity to become more aggressive. Mary Queen of Scots was but an infant when King James V died, leaving Mary (who's mother was French) as his only heir and the first female Stewart monarch. King Henry VIII of England exploited the subsequent confusion in Scotland by bribing certain Scottish lords to secure the Treaty of Greenwich. According to this treaty, Henry's son Edward would marry Mary at the end of her tenth year. But Henry also demanded custody of the infant Scottish Queen AND kingship of Scotland in the event of her death. Upon learning of these additional demands, the Scottish parliament annulled the treaty just a few months after it had been signed. Henry's sadly predictable response was to send a fleet and an army to invade Scotland, ordering that wherever there was resistance to his sovereignty, the men, women, and children should be murdered.

That life should be so lightly regarded, especially by those who cling to it so tenuously, does not fit comfortably within the Faerie world view. As the world goes 'round, and life follows death, killing can be part of that natural cycle if it is done to sustain life. But killing for the sake of power, or sport, or ego seems to us like a denial of the natural world that gives birth to and unites us all. It is an abomination that some place value on their own lives while regarding the lives of others as worthless.

Of course, the Scots fought the invasion. Their lives depended on it. But as had so often been the case over the last five centuries, they were outgunned: this time literally. The Scottish long spears and arrows were no match for the new English firearms. Ten thousand Scots died at the battle of Flodden Field.

The Scots had largely remained loyal Catholics. But the war with protestant England and the English victories in that war emboldened Scottish reformers such as John Knox: a self-righteous, single-minded fundamentalist who rejoiced in the murder of Catholics and championed militant religious reform. To help fight off the English, Mary Guise (the catholic mother of the infant Queen) sought aid from the land of her birth: France. After reaching an agreement that would send the infant queen to France where she would be educated and (when both were old enough) marry the young heir to the French throne, the French sent an army to fight for Scotland. England subsequently withdrew from Scotland and John Knox was exiled. But the movement for reform in Scotland had been sparked.

With the young Queen in France, regents ruled Scotland for a decade of increasing religious turmoil. When she turned twelve, Queen Mary appointed the Queen Mother as regent of Scotland. But while her mother ruled in Scotland, Queen Mary remained in France where she would soon marry and become queen of France. Mary Guise, the Queen Mother, was dignified, charming, and spirited. She initially tried to quell Scottish religious upheaval with tolerance and compromise, even allowing John Knox to return to Scotland. But the fundamentalism of the Scottish reformers did not allow for compromise. Their strength, and the boldness of their actions, continued to mount – particularly in the south and east. Eventually, and likely with the prodding of her French Catholic allies, the Queen Mother outlawed the new religion.

John Knox, believing himself uniquely chosen by God, called vigorously for armed resistance to the "pestilential" Catholics, the "anti-Christ" in Rome, and the "Jezebel" Scottish Queen. He railed against "the monstrous regiment of women." He was Mad. But his congregation responded enthusiastically, raising an army. Thus the religious civil war began. Knox's Army of the Congregation of Christ sacked, burned, and looted Catholic churches, monasteries, and cathedrals, which to Faeries seems most un-Christ like. They then occupied Edinburgh after the Queen Mother and her forces retreated to Dunbar.

Reinforcements from France turned the tide against the Congregationalists until Queen Elizabeth of England sent an army to join the Scottish Protestants. Elizabeth's involvement at this point may have been due to considerations beyond any particular religious faith. Because Mary Queen of Scots, in addition to being of Stewart blood, was also the great-grandchild of an English King, there were those who believed Mary should be the ruler of England. So Elizabeth saw Mary as a personal threat. But whatever Elizabeth's motivations may have been, her mostly protestant army found itself in a religious war with the catholic French on Scottish soil: a situation for which both English and French combatants lacked enthusiasm. They soon signed the Treaty of Edinburgh (which declared that Elizabeth, not Mary, was the rightful English monarch) and then left Scotland to the Scots.

In the aftermath of the Treaty of Edinburgh, the Scottish parliament came to be dominated by Protestants, and the official new Kirk (Church) of Scotland became Protestant in doctrine, though its dogma was less extreme than Knox would have liked. It should also be noted that these events mostly played out in the south of Scotland. To a large degree, then, Caledonia remained Catholic, as did Queen Mary and the Queen Mother.

A few months after the Treaty of Edinburgh, Mary's husband, the King of France, died. And a few months after that, she decided to return to Scotland. She was twenty years old, statuesque, graceful, and beautiful. She was also intelligent, well schooled in statecraft with an appreciation of clemency and mercy, an animal lover, and a lover of dance and music. She was the best of European royalty. But her arrival brought a mixed response from the Scots, for she was a Catholic monarch in a nation that was becoming protestant. Still, she was their Queen, and she was a Stewart. So those who did not hate her for her faith loved her. Though a devoted Catholic, she did not allow that devotion to interfere with the just application of her royal duties. In an attempt to pacify the reformers and present her nation with the image and assurance of a fair-minded monarch, she sometimes even battled against those who would be her Catholic allies. But the bigotry of some who opposed her was beyond the reach of any possible attempts at pacification. For being a woman, and for enjoying dance, John Knox condemned her as "satanic." As a former Queen of France with a valid claim to the Throne of England (she never signed the Treaty of Edinburgh), and as the current Catholic Queen of a nation with a Protestant Parliament, she found herself at the center of both political and religious intrigues that went well beyond the borders of her nation and beyond the capacities of perhaps anyone to manage successfully. And the choice she made for her second husband did not make things any easier for her.

Henry Stewart, Lord Darnley, was Mary's distant cousin and, like Mary, the great-grandchild of an English King. As such, he also had a valid claim to the English Crown. It may be that Mary was trying to strengthen her line's claim to the thrones of both Scotland and England, or it may be that she just acted impetuously. If it was an impetuous choice, then she should not have expected things to turn out any better than they did. And if it was a studied choice, then things did not go according to plan. Though Darnley himself was immature and lacked ambition, Elizabeth of England nevertheless perceived in this union an increased threat to her Throne. And since Darnley was Catholic, the Scottish Protestants (who had been hopeful that Mary would make a more conciliatory choice for her husband) were embittered by the news and rebelled.

Queen Mary's forces had little trouble quelling that rebellion, and for awhile it seemed things might work out after all. She was soon pregnant with Darnley's child, offering Scotland the promise of a Stewart heir. When she gave birth to a son (James), the Scottish people bestowed her with increased and in some cases newfound affection. So Scotland enjoyed a time of relative peace and hope. But as the proverb predicts, "Eiridh tonn air uisge balbh" (a wave will rise on quiet water). Mary's fortunes took another turn for the worse with the murder of her husband and her subsequent marriage to the man many suspected of being the murderer (though he was acquitted at trial) all while James was still an infant.

The exact sequence of events leading to the murder and then marriage are lost in confusion and mystery. And we can only speculate about whether Mary was a conspiratorial force driving these events, or merely a victim of either circumstance or Protestant plotting. But the result was that Mary's new husband was chased from Scotland and Mary was imprisoned and then forced to abdicate in favor of her son, King James VI of Scotland, who was still barely one year old.

After ten months in prison, public opinion turned somewhat in her favor and an escape was arranged. But the small army that gathered around her was defeated and she escaped to England. Advisors had recommended against going to England. But Mary hoped that because they were cousins and fellow monarchs, Elizabeth would offer assistance despite the tensions that existed between them. Mary had been perhaps naively optimistic. Elizabeth had her imprisoned. Mary still had support from English Catholics who plotted to return a Catholic to the English Throne, and during her imprisonment in England, several of these plots were uncovered. But though it is unlikely that Mary had any involvement in any such schemes, she received blame for them. After Elizabeth had imprisoned her cousin for nineteen years, she finally lost tolerance for the situation and had Mary, Queen of Scots, executed. Upon her death, Mary was only forty-four years old. She had been Queen of Both France and Scotland. And she had spent nearly half her life in prison.

While Mary was still imprisoned in England, and until James reached the age of twelve, Scotland was again ruled by regents, and by an increasingly powerful Scottish Church. In theory, the reformation had ushered in a new era of freedom for the common man to be saved through faith rather than through subsidies to the Church. And it is true that the Bible became more readily available to common practitioners in their own language. Also, the new clergy donned humble garments, and the new churches embraced austerity rather than the extravagance of some Catholic Cathedrals. But in this new, supposedly more democratic religion, inequities between aristocrat and commoner persisted. And the new Church imposed new disciplines, punishments, and fines on the people. Dancing and other "triumphs of flesh over mind" were considered "Devil's work" and punishable by burning at the stake (which supposedly saved the sinner's soul).

This institutionalized suppression of joyous celebration was, of course, anathema to Faeries and contrary to our free-spirited ways. And the people of Caledonia saw it as a direct attack by the reformers on the Pagan traditions they still practiced outright (in some cases) or had incorporated into their Catholic faith (in other cases). Naturally, therefore, this aspect of the reformation did little to ease the feelings of divisiveness between Caledonia and the rest of Scotland.

James, meanwhile, was receiving the kind of superior quality education in Scotland that was once available only in mainland Europe. As a young man, he was intelligent and restless. Though slender, he was also strong, but never took well to arms. He was raised as a Protestant and taught to mistrust Catholics. But though some Scottish reformers would have preferred to see their King schooled to accept the most extreme of the reformations, James was tutored in a more moderate form. As such, he came to believe that the King should be the head of not only the political hierarchy, but the religious hierarchy as well. As he made clear in several books he would write later in life, his priority was to know and love God: first because God had made him a man, and second because God had made him a little God to sit on his throne and rule over other men. Democracy, whether religious or political, was not to be trusted. Democratic institutions were at best tools to be used to accomplish the King's objectives. James had strayed somewhat from the royal Stewart ideal of serving rather than being served – but perhaps not as far as it might at first seem. His experience with "democracy" would come largely from his dealings with the English parliament, a body which (at the time) consistently pursued the religious, financial, and sometimes bigoted interests of the powerful rather than being truly "representative" of the will of the people. James therefore felt that the people were best served by a King with stewardship motivations rather than by a "democratic" parliament pursuing the selfish interests of the powerful. James VI believed in monarchy absolutely: benevolent monarchy perhaps, but absolute monarchy. Still, whatever his interests were on behalf of his subjects, it bothered him little to spend their money. As was the case with the other European monarchs of the day, he enjoyed an extravagant lifestyle.

James was still a legitimate heir to the English Throne and he developed an almost single-minded desire to rule both England and Scotland and be declared head of both the Scottish and English Churches. Should Elizabeth of England remain childless, his claim to her throne would be easily the strongest. Perhaps in exchange for James not protesting Elizabeth's imprisonment of his mother (whom he had been raised to hate anyway), Elizabeth did not dispute that he would be her rightful heir.

When Elizabeth finally had Mary executed, some of his subjects demanded that James VI lead an avenging army into England. But James had more interest in his political future than in revenge. Two years after Mary's death, James married Ann of Denmark. Fourteen years after that, Elizabeth died still childless and King James VI of Scotland was accepted as King James I of England. At the head of a large procession, James rode south into England, where the mood of his new subjects was apprehensive and unsympathetic. Over the many centuries of English attempts to rule Scotland, they had not imagined that when the two Crowns were finally united it would be under a Scottish King – a descendent of Robert the Bruce.

### What a shame such a fair Scottish Queen

### Should be subject to treatment so mean.

### But her son won renown

### When he grabbed England's crown:

### A result they had never foreseen!

### Chapter Ten

### STEWARDSHIP IN ENGLAND

### The Stewarts believed in strong monarchy

### But parliament liked their bureaucracy

### 'Cause it worked for them best

### And the hell with the rest

### So the Crown they made into a mockery.

Now that a Stewart was king of England, the English parliament found itself no longer willing to accept the degree of authority from its monarch that had become traditional under the reigns of Elizabeth and the other Tudor monarchs. Parliament attempted to severely restrict James's authority to rule and sought to reserve for itself the power to govern. It has been suggested that it even plotted to overthrow the Stewart line, hoping to eventually achieve a sort of back door English rule over Scotland. Certainly the short term effects of subjugating the Stewart King to parliamentary rule would have effectively given the English parliament authority over Scotland. James responded to the English Parliament's power grab by reminding them that by Scottish tradition he was answerable to God and the Nation rather than to parliament. It was his duty to uphold Scotland's constitution on behalf of the people and to stand against parliament and or the Church should those powers work in opposition to the best interests of Scotland or the people of Britain.

Unlike Scotland, however, England had no written constitution. What it had was a feudal tradition that continued to concentrate power in the hands of upper class land owners with no protection or even acknowledgement of any rights or liberties for common people. Some would argue that James's notion of stewardship suffered somewhat from excessive conceit. But the English Parliament's attitude toward stewardship, if it had any appreciation for it at all, was antagonistic. James and his Stewart successors would be constantly struggling and failing to get cooperation from the English Parliament. (Though all of Britain had been "united" under the Stewarts, the English and Scottish parliaments remained independent.)

The conflict between parliament and the Stewart monarchs of Britain precipitated events that would resonate through human history. In an effort to explain the cause of this conflict and divert responsibility for its tragic consequences, some have blamed the Stewarts' own religious convictions. But this explanation is, at best, an oversimplification. James himself, though having been raised a severe enough protestant to turn against his own Catholic mother, and despite being the target of a Catholic assassination plot, was repeatedly accused of trying to return the Catholic Church to prominence, both in Scotland and in England. The turbulence of the Stewart years had two primary sources: first the struggle for political power that has already been mentioned; and second the religious upheavals of the time – upheavals creating rival dogmas of irreconcilable intolerance. Perhaps other rulers could have fared better, but it is difficult to see how, even acknowledging that mistakes were made.

James and his Stewart successors believed it was their responsibility to ensure what was in the best interest of the nation and the people. They believed they could not meet that responsibility unless they had the power to do what was necessary toward that end. And they believed that God, in his infinite compassion and wisdom, had granted them the divine right to that power. The sensibilities of later ages might lead one to judge this as insanely arrogant. But acceptance of the divine right of kings predates the Stewarts. Faeries honor them for their attempts (even if not always successful) to use the power of the divine for the good of the people. Other evolving forces would be far less motivated by generosity in their acquisition and use (or abuse) of power.

Still, the Stewarts' insistence on their divine right to rule the nation would aggravate tensions with both political and religious forces: some of whom honestly thought that power could be better applied if more democratically controlled, and some who were merely pursuing selfish interests.

Even before James became King of England, he had feuded with the Scottish Kirk – a relatively democratic Presbyterian structure that had evolved out of the Scottish reformation and claimed to be "the one true religion." Despite their disagreements though, they managed a mostly respectful coexistence, for a time. James even referred to the Scottish church as "the sincerest Kirk in the world" and promised to defend it "so long as I brook life." But when catholic Spain invaded Elizabeth's protestant England, Scottish protestants accused James of being a papist because he had not been supportive enough (in their view) of the English protestants. Conflict between James VI and the Scottish Kirk subsequently escalated. James was told that within the Presbyterian Church he was neither king nor lord but merely another subject. Though James and the other Stewarts generally embraced religious tolerance, he did not feel he could extend that tolerance to a politically powerful force (such as the Scottish Kirk) which sought to subvert his divine authority. So, in order to reestablish his control of the Presbyterian Scottish Kirk, he attempted to reorganize it on the Episcopal model which vested authority in the bishops he himself appointed. He had only limited success. Presbyterians had been regulated by elders rather than by bishops, and were hostile to the King's efforts to establish a "papist" style authority over their faith.

As King of England, James would be the established head of the Anglican Church of England – a church which, though protestant, was also regulated by bishops. So once James VI of Scotland became James I of England and head of a united British monarchy, he hoped to translate his authority over the Church of England into final authority over the Kirk of Scotland as well, thereby unifying the Church and State of both Scotland and England under his rule. That hope would continue to be frustrated. His attempts to expand the influence of the Episcopal Church in Scotland by appointing more Anglican style bishops continued to meet resistance. Additionally, as king of England, he was also king of Ireland. And Ireland had remained largely Catholic, as had many in the Caledonian highlands of Scotland. Inevitably, James was unsuccessful at reconciling his desire to achieve unified rule of both Church and State within his monarchy with the various needs of his Presbyterian, Episcopal, Anglican, Catholic, and other subjects. The Anglican Church, in particular, had evolved into a bureaucratically entrenched, dogmatic, intolerant, and antagonistic force which (like the English parliament it controlled) seemed bent on frustrating the rule of King James. James even encountered resistance from the Scottish parliament, which refused his suggestion that the two parliaments unite, justifiably concerned about losing Scottish freedoms to a "united" parliament that would no doubt be controlled by the larger, much more populous England.

When James died after more than two decades as king of Britain, his crown, and his political/religious headaches were inherited by his son, Charles I. Immediately confronted by a hostile, intransigent English parliament, Charles dissolved that parliament and installed his own administration. Due in part to the religious dogmatism and bigotry of the Anglican controlled parliament, Charles I actually became a fairly popular monarch among the English people who were now able to enjoy an all too brief period of tolerance.

Dissatisfaction with the Anglican Church and its elitist bishops had spawned reform in the form of a new religious sect which split from the Anglicans to become religiously "pure" – the Puritans. The Puritans were just the latest of the seemingly unending string of slightly different human religions to proclaim itself "the one true religion." The Anglicans were unpopular enough that many were quick to embrace any alternative. So, with the repressive Anglican parliament dissolved, Puritanism grew rapidly among a populace that had been anxious about what they perceived to be the slow pace of religious reformation in England. Sadly, Puritan piety would evolve into an attitude that was more dogmatic, more intolerant, and far more brutal than the Anglicans had been.

Meanwhile, back in Scotland... (And going "back" to Scotland is particularly appropriate terminology because the Stewart kings James, Charles I, and Charles II all spent practically their entire reigns in England, returning to Scotland only if absolutely necessary. In James's case, during his twenty-two years as King of Britain, he returned to Scotland only once, despite having pledged to do so every three years. So perhaps the degree to which these Stewarts may have drifted from the ideals of stewardship was related to their separation from the land where the concept originated: related especially, perhaps, to their separation from Caledonia and from the unique spirit of that land. The spirit of Caledonia is apparently not something that can be inherited but must, rather, be experienced. It seems that without that experience, without the intimacy of that connection, the soul-felt imperatives of love and responsibility for the land and its people become abstract and corruptible.) So... back in Scotland, religious animosity was flaring up yet again. Charles I had attempted to mandate use of an Anglican style "Book of Common Prayer." This prompted suspicions among the Presbyterians and triggered a rebellion against the "papist" abuses of King Charles. The rebels signed a covenant to recover the "purity and liberty" of the gospel, thus becoming "the Covenanters." Because the English Parliament had been dissolved, Charles I had difficulty raising enough funds to put down the rebellion. So he called Parliament back into session hoping to get the needed funding. Parliament refused and was again dissolved. Lacking sufficient funds to effectively prosecute the war, Charles was forced to settle, leaving the Covenanters as temporary rulers of Scotland. The royally appointed Scottish Episcopal bishops were subsequently abolished.

Parliament had traditionally been the body responsible for securing funding for the English government. Without a functioning parliament, Charles I was forced to find other means to procure funds. The taxes he therefore levied became unpopular in some circles, stirring up "taxation without representation" complaints – even though the English were among the least taxed people in all of Europe. But the financial situation ultimately forced Charles's hand and he again recalled parliament. By that time, the Puritans had gained enough power to take control of parliament. Instead of funding, what the puritan parliament gave Charles was a list of complaints against the King himself. The puritan parliament accused Charles of participation in a Catholic conspiracy, then impeached his catholic Queen (to whom he had been married for all of his fifteen year reign), and had one of his most trusted Lieutenants beheaded. When Charles requested funding for an army to put down a rebellion of Irish Catholics, parliament refused him, suspecting he might use the army against parliament.

Civil war broke out between Parliamentary forces and the King's Cavaliers. Oliver Cromwell took command of the Puritan Parliamentary army and led them in a fanatical and savage campaign that saw them mutilate royalist women and gouge out the eyes of any who did not profess to share their "one true faith." Eventually, Charles was captured. Belatedly, an army of Scots moved south in support of Charles. But they were defeated by Cromwell at the Battle of Preston. Then, after a farce of a trial (the first trial ever of an English monarch) and after having been King of Britain for almost a quarter of a century, King Charles Stewart was beheaded.

This abomination of justice and of precedent was widely condemned by the common English people. Many were outraged that the fanatical fervor of a relative few could have so hijacked their parliament, turning it into an unholy tool for persecution of their King. Many more were embarrassed that they and the nation had allowed themselves to be swept up in the flow of that fanaticism. But many (some of whom may have regretted the way it happened) were satisfied that the monarchy had been overthrown. And few were willing to stand against the power of the Puritans.

Nevertheless, the late King's son Charles, Prince of Wales, scraped together an army in an effort to restore the monarchy. A year after Charles I had been beheaded, the Puritans defeated the Prince's army. Despite this defeat, and at least in part because the Prince agreed to accept the terms of the Scottish covenant, the Scots crowned him King Charles II. After another defeat, however, Charles II was forced to flee to France. Cromwell then terminated Parliament and ruled Britain by military force for six years of despotic severity unlike anything England had ever experienced. The political unity he imposed resulted in a time of relative peace during which trade flourished and the merchant class prospered. But reminiscent of the ancient Pictish criticism of the Romans ("they create a desert and call it peace") there was a price. Freedom of speech was eliminated. Meetings were banned. Sports and entertainment were considered blasphemous. Christmas celebrations were forbidden. Adultery was punished by death and single mothers were imprisoned. The Caledonian clans, at least, were left largely to their own devices, so highland clan life changed little. Nor was there much change in the terrible poverty of the lowborn commoners populating Scotland's cities.

After Cromwell's death, the British people gratefully restored Charles II to his throne. Upon his return, Charles II promised liberty for all men, regardless of their politics or their religion – so long as they did not disturb the peace of the Kingdom. Charles's promise of inclusiveness, though one of the things which made him a generally popular monarch among the common people, alienated him from the English parliament - a parliament once again controlled by Anglicans suspicious of anyone who did not share their own version of the "one true faith." Neither was the King's so called inclusiveness universally applied. His attempt to incorporate bishops into an essentially Presbyterian structure for the Scottish Kirk resulted in a time of rebellion in the southwest of Scotland. Viewing this rebellion as disturbing "the peace of the Kingdom," Charles II effectively suppressed it through the use of his sometimes barbarous army of Highlanders known as the Highland Host.

Despite ongoing difficulties with the English parliament, Charles II had a largely successful twenty-five year reign. When he died, he was succeeded by his brother James II (James VII of Scotland). Unlike the previous three Stewart monarchs, James was an ardent Catholic which, of course, meant trouble. Though a devoted Catholic, he was also devoted to religious tolerance. Hoping to overcome bigotry with religious freedom for all, James II (VII) issued the "Declaration for Liberty of Conscience." The English parliament (having come to be controlled by a party of wealthy land-owners known as "the Whigs") had ten years earlier passed "Test Acts" mandating that only Anglicans could hold public office. Not only did parliament resent the King's attempt to invalidate their Acts, but their entrenched bigotry motivated their condemnation of the King for daring to suggest that England be tolerant of Catholics, Jews, Presbyterians, and Quakers. To guarantee their power over the nation, and to insure that England remained Anglican, parliament deposed James in only the fourth year of his reign, forcing him to exile in France. They then offered James's throne to his daughter Mary and her Dutch husband William of Orange, both Protestant.

A highland army led by Graham of Claverhouse (who was called "Bonnie Dundee") marched in support of King James. This was the first "Jacobite" rebellion (James being a derivative of the Hebrew name Jacob). The Jacobites won a battle at Killiecrankie, but Bonnie Dundee was mortally wounded. Without their dynamic leader, they lost a few weeks later at Dunkeld. The Jacobite clans dispersed back into the highlands and the rebellion evaporated.

During the uprising, William of Orange had demanded that all Highland Chiefs swear an oath of allegiance to him. But the Caledonian Clans had become accustomed to their Kings swearing fealty to the nation, not the other way around. So most were unwilling to accept the oath William would impose on them. There were a few clans (chief among them being the Campbells) who chose to sell their services to the Dutch "King" of England in his attempt to suppress the Jacobite loyalists. William decided to make an example of one reluctant, vulnerable clan. The MacDonalds of Glencoe had little military strength and their Chief had been a few days late in signing William's oath. Additionally, unlike many Highland Clans whose mountain homes served as natural fortresses, the Glencoe MacDonalds made their home in a narrow valley that could be used to entrap them.

The Earl of Argyll was a Clan Campbell chief. His regiment of soldiers recruited from the Argyll region of Scotland was stationed at Fort William as part of the regular British army. In part because of an ancient rivalry between the Campbells and the MacDonalds, it was Argyll's regiment that was chosen to enact the planned extermination of the Glencoe MacDonalds. It was thought that the Campbells would be willing participants and that the massacre could then be seen as an act of highlander against highlander rather than as the result of a royal plot. Captain Robert Campbell of Glenlyon was chosen to lead the advance party into Glencoe because despite the clan rivalry, he had blood connections with the MacDonalds and would be welcomed without suspicion. In the two companies he commanded, there were as many lowlanders as Campbells. On February 1, 1692, in the midst of a winter that would make escape even more difficult, they arrived in Glencoe on a "peaceful mission." After taking advantage of MacDonald hospitality for almost two weeks, the Argylls arose one morning and murdered every MacDonald they could find – including the elderly, the women, and the children. Even within a Clan culture accustomed to violence, this "murder under trust" was considered a particularly heinous offence. The atrocity reinforced already bitter sentiments throughout the highlands. So the Dutchman's transparent attempt to intimidate the Clans, though somewhat successful in the short term, also served to rally more Clan support to the Jacobite cause. It would be another quarter of a century, however, before they could rise again in strength.

Faeries have long puzzled over why so much of what drove events in Caledonia was accompanied by violence: gruesome, bloody, terrible violence. Faeries generally subscribe to more of a "live and let live" approach to life. So we have found it difficult to understand why a people whose ancestors worshiped water would be so reluctant to just "go with the flow." Is misery a necessary part of the human experience? Is there something in the Spirit of Caledonia that aggravates human drama? Could it really be that the immortal values of that Spirit are just too much for mortal beings to successfully embrace within the limits of a physical reality, making it impossible for them to live their lives in truth and justice without shedding blood?

Once having accepted immortal values into their mortal lives, once having distinguished right from wrong and good from evil, must that acceptance then require such suffering, require even the surrender of their very lives? Is killing for the sake of justice and selflessness really more acceptable than killing for the sake of exploitation and greed?

To the extent that Faeries can take the tragedy of mortal endeavor seriously, we have mourned humanity's drift away from ancient values, and even celebrated their increasingly rare struggles to uphold such truths. But it has been difficult for us to honor struggles that sacrifice life in the name of life, especially when there is no hope of victory – when the struggle itself (rather than the victory) becomes the objective. Still, our failure to fully understand human motivation does not necessarily translate into condemnation of human behavior. We may yet be persuaded that there is value in the struggle, regardless of the outcome.

After Glencoe, William the Dutchman continued to demand much of Scotland, offering little in return. Scotland was expected to provide disproportionately large numbers of men and supplies for William's military and other ambitions abroad and at home. English legislation ensured that English interests had competitive advantages over Scottish industry and trade. Already a poor nation, Scotland was further impoverished by the reign of William and Mary. Caledonian pride, at least, survived among Highland Clansmen. Their harps and voices continued to fill the highland glens with song. They had sheep for wool and cattle for food. But the great Caledonian forests had been further reduced and now more than ever before the Highlanders had to bleed their living cattle to fill the sausages that sustained them. The peasants in Scotland's cities and in her lowlands however, having become dependent on the English system of economic feudalism, had no cattle to bleed – and they lacked the Clan support enjoyed by Highlanders.

Mary died childless two years after Glencoe. William died eight years later, at the dawn of the eighteenth century. Upon William's death, the crown was offered to Mary's sister Anne. Anne had never been to Scotland and had been openly hostile to her father James, offering her support instead to the Dutch William. There was little enthusiasm in her for Scottish concerns. She plotted to dissolve the Scottish Parliament and invalidate the Declaration of Arbroath (which had been serving as the Scottish Constitution). Ultimately... she was successful. Five years into Anne's reign, under threat of further economic sanctions, and influenced by English bribes, the Scottish Parliament agreed to Anne's Treaty of Union and was subsequently adjourned. The Scottish parliament had sold out, officially sacrificing Scottish independence and abandoning Scottish freedom.

Some eight decades later, the great Scot Robert Burns would pen these words on the enactment of the Treaty of Union:

### "What force or guile could not subdue

### Thro' many warlike ages

### Is wrought now by a coward few

### For hireling traitor's wages."

### Chapter Eleven

### PRETENDERS

### Though the Clans had their backs to the wall

### When their Prince came they answered his call.

### Then they fought for the right

### 'Gainst the government's might.

### What more could they give than their all?

The Treaty of Union allowed the Scots to keep their own Kirk and their own legal system. But with the dissolution of their parliament and the invalidation of the Scottish constitution, there was nothing to prevent the overwhelmingly English united parliament in London from enacting measures favoring the English at Scotland's expense. This "united" British parliament had 513 representatives from England in the Commons and only 45 Scots. When the Scots protested a duty imposed on Scottish coal exported to Ireland (English coal exported to Ireland went duty-free), the English Lord Treasurer said, "Have we not bought the Scots, and a right to tax them?"

When Anne died just seven years after her political conquest of Scotland, the rightful heir to the throne was James Francis Edward Stewart, the son of the deposed King James II (James VII of Scotland). But James Francis Edward was a Catholic, and a Stewart. So, since Parliament had enacted legislation excluding from the royal succession everyone whom had ever been a catholic or even just been married to a catholic, the Crown was given instead (by a monumentally convoluted logic) to the son of the daughter of Anne's sister: George of Hanover. George I spoke only German and had only moderate interest in spending any of his time in his new kingdom. This situation perfectly suited the desires of the powerful elite to control Britain themselves. But among the common people of both England and Scotland, the choice of George resulted in widespread dissatisfaction. In England, riots broke out. In Scotland, where ill-will towards the union had grown, and where many now reaffirmed Scotland's right to choose her own King, rioting evolved into the second Jacobite rebellion. Though there was support in both England and Scotland for naming James Francis Edward Stewart as King James III (James VIII of Scotland), the rebellion had its deepest roots in Scotland. Jacobite forces occupied Inverness and Perth. But the riots in England died down. And though there had been hope that the French would support the rebellion, that support did not materialize. Also, James Edward had a personality that made him seem a somewhat aloof and uninspiring leader. A mere two months after James arrived in Scotland, the second Jacobite rebellion was put down and James escaped back to France.

The government in London instituted a number of measures designed to prevent the troublesome Highland Clans from engaging in further rebellion. A series of government forts were built across Caledonia. Clansmen were ordered to turn in their weapons. (The weapons so surrendered were generally broken or inferior: the clansmen hid away their better weapons.) Though the weapon bans were not entirely successful, and though the forts could not effectively police remote highland strongholds, the pride and independence of Caledonian culture suffered a terrible blow. Some clansmen sought to regain a measure of their warrior pride by joining government sponsored Scottish regiments in which the government allowed them their weapons, their highland dress, and opportunities to fight as warriors – for government causes.

James ultimately established his exile court in Rome, where he raised two sons: Charles and Henry. Knowing the Stewart line was alive, well, and regarded by many in Europe as the rightful heirs to the British throne, the British parliament ramped up its propaganda machine in efforts to discredit the Stewarts. Among the mistruths so spread over the decades (and now centuries) was the assertion that restoring a Stewart to the Throne of Britain would result in the establishment of Catholicism as the official state religion. It was a lie, of course. It is true that the Stewarts believed in their divine right to lead both church and state: a belief which earned them a reputation for arrogance. But that reputation had a flip side as well: idealism and chivalry, for they also believed that their divine right carried with it a divinely mandated responsibility to the nation and the people as a whole rather than to themselves or to any other power. As such, they were generally more tolerant of religious diversity than was the English Parliament. Though parliamentary propaganda was designed to make religion appear to be the issue, the real issue was power: who would have it and what it would be used for – whether The Stewarts would have it and use it on behalf of the nation and the people, or whether the elite few would have it and use it on behalf of themselves. But the lie proved effective then in creating doubt among some who might otherwise have supported the Stewart cause, and it has remained effective in confusing posterity about what motivated the government's battles against the Stewarts.

Charles Edward Stewart, born five years after the second Jacobite rebellion, was James's eldest son. Raised in Rome as a privileged member of elite European society, he was constantly reminded that the English parliament had stolen the thrones of Scotland, England, and Ireland from his grandfather, and that his father James was the rightful monarch of those kingdoms. He was also, therefore, taught to accept his role as the heir to those kingdoms by Divine Right. He learned to embrace the Stewart ideals of stewardship and service. He was also raised as a Catholic (though he would later convert to Protestantism).

Charles grew into a handsome young man. Tall and impressive in appearance, elegant in mannerisms, eloquent in speech, he also possessed a style of idealism, ambition, and confidence that might only have been possible of someone raised in his unique circumstance. When James secured a promise from the French to support his attempt to regain his Kingdoms, he sent Charles (still just twenty-four years old) to France so that Charles could lead the invasion force. Upon his arrival, however, Charles discovered that the invasion force had not yet been organized. At this time, most of the British government's military might was occupied in a war on the continent, leaving Britain lightly defended. When Charles learned that the British had sustained a devastating defeat in Flanders, he convinced himself that the time for action was now. He pressed the French to provide whatever immediate assistance they could scrape together but was only able to secure two ships, along with their cargo of men and supplies. James had often expressed the belief (based on his experience in the second Jacobite rebellion) that a rebellion against the British government could only be successful if accompanied by a simultaneous French invasion. But Charles was impatient and believed that the righteousness of the Jacobite cause along with the affection the Highlanders still felt for the Stewarts would be sufficient to gather a formidable army 'round him once he arrived on the Caledonian shore. French support, he decided, would come soon enough. So, without informing James (whom Charles knew would disapprove of such an action as impetuous and premature), the Prince took the two French vessels and set sail for Scotland.

Upon learning of his son's decision, James was, of course, concerned about what it might mean both for the well-being of his son and for the chances of successfully restoring the Stewarts to their British Kingdoms. He judged, however, that it was now too late to send a message suggesting that Charles return to France (even if the Prince might be expected to obey such a request). He therefore redoubled his efforts to secure French aide for his son's bold endeavor.

On their way to Caledonia, the two ships bearing Prince Charles and the seeds of hope for a Stewart restoration found themselves confronted by forces of the British Navy. The ship carrying Charles escaped. But the larger of the two vessels (the one carrying the largest portion of men and weaponry) was crippled in the battle. The Prince pressed on. After eighteen days at sea, Charles landed on a desolate stretch of Scottish coastline with less than a dozen supporters.

As word of the Prince's arrival spread through northeastern Caledonia, increasing numbers of clansmen came to offer their respects. But Charles's requests for military manpower in support of a third Jacobite rebellion against the government were initially met with polite refusals, for his arrival with so little French support offered more concerns than assurances. Additionally, many felt that the Clans themselves were so ill-prepared and disorganized that any rebellion made under these circumstances would inevitably result in their destruction. Charles persisted, however, and he proved to be an inspirational leader. There was something about the man... Though he dressed modestly and typically made no effort to appear in any way "superior" to the supporters surrounding him, even those who did not know him had no trouble identifying which among them was The Prince. Though believing himself to be the heir to the Thrones of Britain, he also considered himself a guest of his Caledonian hosts. He asked to be taught their Gaelic language and soon adopted highland dress. "Slainte mhor agad" ("great health to you") he would proclaim upon raising a toast to their future successes. "S math sin," he would exclaim if something particularly pleased him. Already commanding their respect, he soon won their friendship, their allegiance, and even their hearts. He answered their concerns with a confidence they found contagious. It would take but a few small victories, he assured them, to motivate people throughout Britain to join their cause. And support from the French would come.

Charles had never before been to Caledonia and he likely did not share or understand the fierce spirit of independence that animated the Caledonian soul. But he knew of it (from legends and from his father's stories) and he intended to take advantage of it. They had fought for his father. They would fight for him. History has therefore often portrayed him as selfish. But the man I came to know was not really a selfish man. Rather, he believed in the Stewart ideal of service. And in order to serve the people of Britain, the Stewart monarchy had to be restored. Elsewhere in Britain (including some parts of Scotland) feudal financial forces had subdued or seduced the people. But Caledonians resisted subjugation by the English financial system, holding instead to a more traditional way of life centered on family and the land. And as warriors they were willing, even happy to fight for life based on those ancient ways. Charles had a practical side. Though he did not understand and had never experienced the Caledonian spirit, he knew that only in Caledonia could he find the spirit necessary to vitalize the Stewart cause.

To the extent that Charles may have used the Highlanders, well, perhaps they used him as well. Some, of course, were caught up in the romance of the struggle: happily, almost mindlessly vowing undying support for their dashing Prince. Many more, however, came to that support more reluctantly, after much consideration. The world was changing. The menace of English civilization, once kept reliably (even if sometimes at great cost) at a distance, had now established itself firmly at the very base of their highland homes. Their very way of life was in danger of being overrun – and the danger seemed ever increasing. Charles offered them an opportunity to unite the might of the separate clans into a single and hopefully effective force that just might give them one last chance to save themselves. And after all, the blood of Robert the Bruce coursed through the veins of this daring young prince. So maybe, just maybe, there was something of the Bruce magic in him as well. More and more clansmen came to Charlie's side. Some (at least at first) came reluctantly – at times coerced by the call of their chiefs. Others came with a hope born of desperation, or to share a mutual contempt of Englishmen and lowlanders, or out of loyalty to a Stewart cause they or theirs had fought for before, or with an idealistic desire to fight for the right. But all, ultimately, rallied in praise of their Prince, buoyed by his optimism.

Within a few weeks, Charles had turned reluctance into enthusiasm. Though the clansmen gathered 'round him knew full well "how hazardous an enterprise we were now engaged in," they resolved "to follow our prince and risk our fate with his." Faced with the ever-increasing power of the government forces opposing them, there must have been little doubt in their minds that the odds against their success were overwhelming. But in a world of fickle fates, victory is never assured. So for them, fighting to achieve some uncertain victory was less important than the choice to fight in celebration of something they really could count on: their own valiant efforts on behalf of a righteous cause.

Glenfinnan sits in a luscious, verdant dale where beautiful, deep blue Loch Seile gathers and then meanders through barren, mist enshrouded hills to the sea. At Glenfinnan, the Stewart Standard was raised against the Elector of Hanover, proclaiming James VIII King of Scotland. A message penned earlier by James was then read to the assembled Highland Host. "With respect to the pretended union of Scotland and England," James had written, "The King can not possible ratify it." Wild cheering erupted. The message went on to appoint Charles as Regent for James and then detailed a Manifesto which, among other things, expressed affection for Scotland, distress over the miseries she had suffered under foreign usurpation, and indignation that the pretense of union had reduced a formerly brave, independent nation to a mere province subjected to unjust, abusive policies enforced by the violent military rule of a more powerful neighbor. It also suggested that restoring the Stewarts to the throne of their ancestors would prevent the inevitable calamitous result of such a pretended union, and declared that no such evil policies could ever find their way into the royal Stewart heart. The manifesto also promised to relieve the poor, establish a free parliament, and to protect, secure and maintain all Protestant subjects in the free exercise of their religion while promoting the happiness of all and establishing the general welfare and tranquility of the nation.

An army of about 1000 government soldiers stationed in Caledonia had received intelligence alerting them to the uprising and had set out to put it down while it was still in its infancy. They were unsure, however, of just how large the highland army was. So when confronted by a small force of patrolling Highlanders, their uncertainty induced them to withdraw rather than engage. They then embarked on a recruitment effort, hoping to swell their ranks while awaiting reinforcement from government forces stationed in mainland Europe. But though they searched throughout Caledonia (or searched, that is, wherever they thought they would be safe from the Jacobites), they found not a single recruit.

With his army approaching 2000 men, Charles decided to break camp and move toward Edinburgh. Anticipating a battle for the Scottish capital, the Jacobites stopped in Perth to await the arrival of more support, both in manpower and in finances. While in Perth, Charles attended Protestant religious services and had copies of the Manifesto made, which were then distributed throughout Edinburgh to hopefully soften the city's resistance. Government officials in Edinburgh organized a militia for their defense, but it dispersed as the Jacobites approached. Prince Charlie's arrival in Edinburgh was greeted by a cheering populace, though there were many who did not join the celebration. And though the city had willingly surrendered itself to the Prince, the castle overlooking the city remained in government hands. Charlie was content to allow the few government forces in the castle to stew behind their walls while he relished the Stewart return to the Scottish capital and his occupation of Holyrood Palace, the official residence of Scottish Monarchs. Also, government forces had gathered at Preston, not far from Edinburgh, and Charlie was anxious to confront them rather than waste energy trying to take a castle that posed him no threat.

Caledonian warriors were renowned for the ferocity of their attacks. Typically, they would maneuver themselves close enough to an enemy to open with a single volley of musketry after which they would immediately discard the spent weapon and descend furiously on their victims, slashing savagely with their claymores (a Scottish broadsword). Even seasoned veterans of the wars in Europe withered unexpectedly in the face of such an onslaught. The two armies (each with slightly more than two thousand men) met at Prestonpans a mere two months after Charlie had arrived in Caledonia. The Prince's insistence on leading the Highlanders into battle was met with firm objections from the Clan Chiefs who argued that should Charlie be killed, their cause would be lost. They had to threaten withdrawal to their highland glens before the Prince would accept a position of greater safety.

The highlanders attacked at dawn, their charge quickly forcing the government army into retreat. Despite their reputation for barbarity, the Highland warriors were quick to offer quarter: they took 1600 prisoners. Approximately 200 government soldiers escaped. The rest lay dead. Jacobite losses amounted to 40 killed and 80 wounded. The Government wounded were respectfully treated, at least in part because Charles had issued an order to that effect and had remained on the battlefield to insure his order was carried out. He even dispatched an officer to Edinburgh to bring all that city's surgeons to the battle site so that the wounded on both sides could be properly cared for.

With the only effective government fighting force in Scotland having been routed, the Jacobites returned to Edinburgh to plan their next move. In England, news of the Jacobite victory created a panic, causing a run on the banks. At first, Charles hoped to take advantage of the confusion in England by advancing immediately toward London. His advisors, however, were split on what the best course of action should be. Some wished to remain in Scotland, consolidating their might, reestablishing an independent Scottish government, and being satisfied (at least for the time being) with restoring the Stewart monarchy in Scotland. Others believed that an independent Scotland could not long survive unless the Stewart monarchy was restored in England as well, thereby negating the otherwise certain resumption of English efforts to further subjugate and dominate its smaller northern neighbor. It was a powerful argument, and convincing enough to bring reluctant consensus. To Charlie's delight, his Clan Chiefs agreed to invade England. But fearing the current army was far too small for such an ambitious endeavor, they insisted on waiting until reinforcements from the north could arrive and until support from both France and a large number of English Jacobites could be secured.

As days in Edinburgh turned into weeks, the city's residents (with some inevitable exceptions) developed an ever greater admiration for their young Prince. The ladies in particular seemed almost universally charmed by his grace and gallantry. Several ships had arrived from France, carrying money, supplies, and a company of artillerymen: less than hoped for, but something. They had received some recruits from the lowlands, but not many. These, along with reinforcements from the north, had swelled Charlie's army to around 6000 restless men: again, not as much as hoped for, but... Lord George Murray, Charlie's lieutenant-general and probably his most able tactician, expressed concerns that further delay would lead to desertions while merely allowing England to regain her confidence and reorganize her armies. Five weeks after their victory at Prestonpans, running low on money, the Jacobite army left Edinburgh on a quest to restore the Stewart monarchy in England.

Though the Jacobite leaders and Clan Chiefs had agreed that an invasion of England was the most promising course of action, not all Highlanders in the army felt the same. Ridding Caledonia of English suppression was vital. Even regaining independence for all of Scotland was arguably well worth pursuing, especially if it afforded opportunities to fight Englishmen. However, invading English soil was different. True, it was a grand adventure with the potential for glory: a situation that had motivated Caledonian warriors for millennia. But it would require leaving their highland homes far behind them. With winter approaching, some thought it best to return to their highland glens where their energies could be applied to securing their homes, their families, and their cattle against the harshness of the coming season.

By the time Charles reached the English city of Carlisle, his army had dwindled to approximately 4500 men. A second Jacobite force had gathered in Perth. But they decided not to follow Charlie's army into England. Meanwhile, great numbers of seasoned government soldiers had returned from wars on the continent and been reorganized into three large government armies. These, along with the numerous English militias, totaled approximately 60,000 fighting men. But Charles continued to believe that many English recruits would join him. And he made the best of what he had. Carlisle surrendered. At the end of November, the Jacobite army entered Manchester to the acclaim of that city's citizens, who organized demonstrations of joy and provided 200 recruits to the Prince's army – the sum total of all English recruits Charles would get.

From Manchester, the Jacobites outmaneuvered a government force commanded by the Duke of Cumberland and, with Charles leading them on foot, entered the town of Derby. They were just 127 miles from London and there was no effective government force in position to keep them from taking the English capitol. Panic seized London. King George II loaded up the Crown Jewels in preparation for an escape to Germany.

The Jacobites were unaware of the panic gripping London. They were also unaware that several shiploads of soldiers and ammunition had been sent from France, destined for Scotland only to be intercepted and captured by English cruisers. Nor did they realize that the French were actively preparing an invasion force. Charlie's advisors, after sober analysis of their situation in Derby, acknowledged they could take London. The question which confronted them, however, was, "Then what?" Some expressed hope that once London was occupied, there would be little appetite among the soldiers of Cumberland's army for an attack on London. Others suggested that even if Cumberland's army did attack, the highlanders had both vigor and valor aplenty to defeat them, despite being outnumbered 2:1. But there was a second, even larger government force under Wade only two to three days march away, and a third of similar size not much more distant than the second. Lord Murray, the commanding general of the Jacobite army, pointed out that even if they defeated the first government army, they would be left weakened and likely surrounded by a force almost ten times as large as their own. He therefore urged retreat while they still could. Charlie, who was barely two weeks shy of turning twenty-five and was hoping to celebrate his birthday by taking the English capitol, insisted they advance on London, asserting that because their cause was just, they would prevail. The Clan Chiefs were persuaded by Murray, however, and plans were made to begin their retreat the next morning. The Chiefs knew that because they were on the brink of achieving their objective, their warriors were in high spirits, eagerly anticipating battle. So, the nature of the plans was kept secret from the army. That evening, Charlie was overcome by the disappointment of having come so close to the realization of his dream only to turn away while it was well within his reach. Wretchedly frustrated, he bashed his head repeatedly into a wall, requiring forcible restraint to avoid injury.

Some time after the retreat had begun, once the highlanders became aware they were retreating from rather than advancing on London, they nearly mutinied. When word of the Jacobite retreat finally reached France, the French plan to invade England was abandoned.

Despite their dejected mood, the Jacobites managed a relatively ordered, rear-guard retreat. A skirmish at Clifton cost the highlanders twelve men and the English a hundred. Upon crossing back into Scotland, they forgot, for a time, the disappointment of retreat and celebrated returning home. Pipers played, drummers drummed, and the men danced. "Is binn gach eun 'na dhoire fhein." ("Sweet sings each bird in his own grove.")

While the Jacobites were resupplying in Glasgow (where they received a lukewarm reception), Government forces marched into Edinburgh without resistance. Between Glasgow and Edinburgh lay the city of Stirling. The castle at Stirling was occupied by government forces and the city itself defended by a pro-government militia. From Glasgow, the Jacobites descended on Stirling, negotiated the surrender of the city, and then laid siege to the castle. While at Stirling, Charlie received reinforcements from the north, bringing his force up to 9000 men. General Hawley, in command of the government army in Edinburgh, resolved to attack the Jacobites. Had he been willing to wait just a few more days, reinforcements would have nearly doubled the size of the government forces. As it was, though, the government army was already larger than the Jacobite army. And Hawley was both arrogant and desirous of renown. So he seized the opportunity for what he expected to be a relatively easy victory against an overmatched, dispirited foe.

Leaving 1000 men to continue the siege of Stirling Castle, Charlie took the remainder of his force to meet Hawley's advance. In mid-January, the two armies met near Falkirk. Hawley was overconfident and likely thought his cavalry would overwhelm the Jacobites. When Hawley's cavalry charge failed to break the Highlanders, his army found itself insufficiently prepared for the savagery of the Caledonian counter-attack. The Jacobites, led by Lord Murray, routed the government forces who withdrew in disarray back towards Edinburgh. But the typically impetuous Highlanders broke ranks in their pursuit, thereby enabling the Government force to avoid complete destruction. The surviving government troops were left with a renewed respect for Highland fighting prowess, and with a taste for ultimate revenge.

The Jacobites, their confidence restored by having reestablished battlefield superiority, and with an army now twice the size it had been in England, might reasonably have made another try at taking London. They might also, at least, have moved to eliminate the government threat in Edinburgh. Instead, however, they decided to maintain their siege of Stirling Castle. Two weeks after their success at Falkirk, they finally abandoned the siege: two weeks which allowed the government forces to regroup. Hawley was replaced by the Duke of Cumberland. An effective if uncompromising commander, Cumberland was well respected by his army, though in the pursuit of his objectives he was capable of extreme cruelty toward both enemy combatants and civilians. He also believed that Caledonia had been a thorn in the side of civilization for far too long. Those two weeks had also seen a diminution of Charlie's army through desertion. For millennia, Caledonian warriors had routinely returned home after achieving great victories. So the desertion now was not the result of either fear or a loss of spirit. It was the result of inactivity, of tradition, and of an essentially different way of perceiving the world and one's relationship to it. Such behavior would not have been tolerated by Cumberland, who hanged deserters. (And the "deserters" Cumberland most enthusiastically prosecuted were those Highlanders who, prior to the uprising, had enlisted to fight overseas with the British, then joined their clansmen and brothers once Charlie's army gathered).

So, in the midst of winter, with the size of their force now down to 5000 men, and with Cumberland's reinforced army having left Edinburgh seeking confrontation, the Jacobites decided to return to the Highlands, where they could better defend themselves and hopefully take some of the northern government fortresses. They also felt certain that once back in the Highlands, they could grow their army to a force of 10,000 by springtime. Similar to their withdrawal from London, this decision to again withdraw infuriated Charlie. But the Chiefs and Lord Murray were so resolved. Charlie reluctantly consented and on January 31 the Jacobites withdrew from Falkirk.

After securing themselves in the Highlands, with Cumberland's army wintering and gathering strength in Aberdeen, Charlie resolved to take the town and castle of Inverness, which was defended by a government force of 2000 men. Upon the Jacobite approach, many of the town's defenders fled, and those left in the castle surrendered after a two day siege. The Jacobites followed up this success by taking Fort George, and then Fort Augustus. After that, with only meager rations available, and with no immediate action anticipated, many of Charlie's Clansmen returned home to be with family while awaiting word of a springtime regathering.

In early April, Cumberland's army left Aberdeen and headed for Inverness. Though news that the Duke was on the move spread quickly throughout the highlands, Charlie was too impatient to wait for the return of all his troops to Inverness. When Cumberland reached Nairn, Charles summoned what troops he had by ordering the playing of the pipes and the beating of the drums. The Prince then deployed his forces on Culloden Moor to await the government advance.

The Jacobite army (though including a small number of French forces, a few lowland Scots, and one regiment from Sweden) was composed almost entirely of Highland Clansmen. It numbered about 4500 men. They fought for a variety of reasons, perhaps the most compelling of which was to save their way of life: a Clan culture vitalized by the eternal connections between them, their ancestors, their homelands, and the hallowed mysteries of ancient gods whose names had been forgotten but whose spirit was still celebrated. It was, essentially, a culture which had been perceived as a threat to the expansion of "civilization" ever since the Romans had marched on the Picts. The ancient spirit of this culture was what the English (just as the Romans before them) were intent on destroying - in the name of "civilization" which, really, is just the name given by conquerors to their system of centralized economic control over conquered people. And it was precisely this ancient spirit, as well as our hope for its continued survival and vitality, which induced me and a number of my Faerie brethren to fight at the side of the Caledonians.

The government army was 9000 strong: largely seasoned veterans of the European wars. They had superior numbers, superior musketry, and superior artillery, including grape-shot (a new development in weaponry, and something the highlanders had never experienced). Field artillery had always been relatively effective in blowing isolated holes in enemy lines. But field artillery loaded with grape shot was designed to literally tear an enemy line (and all the soldiers in it) to pieces, and it was horrifyingly effective at doing so.

There were some clansmen among the government forces (most of whom had joined the army before the rebellion broke out), and some of them fought to pursue old grudges against certain Jacobite Clans. But almost all of Cumberland's soldiers fought because they were ordered to do so, and any reluctance to do so had been trained out of them. This was a highly organized, rigidly disciplined force. Cumberland, of course, would not tolerate the kind of independent wanderings common among the Highland Host. He ordered, and his soldiers knew, that breaking ranks would be harshly dealt with – possibly even by hanging. Cumberland's style was cold-hearted but effective. His army went about its work with almost Roman efficiency.

Lord Murray had tried to convince Charlie that Culloden Moor, because it was boggy and relatively flat, was not the best place to make our stand. Culloden, he suggested, would hamper the Highlanders most effective weapon: the ferocity of their charge. He therefore entreated Charlie to occupy higher, dryer ground. But The Prince felt that moving to the ground Murray suggested would make Inverness more susceptible to a government assault, so we maintained our positions at Culloden and awaited Cumberland's approach. As the day wore on and Cumberland did not come, we began to regret the haste of our deployment. We had rushed to Culloden without bringing food. When the anticipated battle did not materialize, Charlie and his advisors held council to determine a course of action. Charlie pushed for a night march on Nairn, where we could surprise the government army before daybreak. The chiefs agreed and we set out for Nairn. But the roads were muddy, and the men were hungry, so our progress was too slow to reach the government camp while darkness still concealed us. Shortly before dawn, we turned about and returned to Culloden Moor. Shortly after that, we got the word that Cumberland's well rested, well fed troops had broken camp and were pursuing us to Culloden.

Given the condition of his army, and given that significant reinforcements could be expected to arrive within a few days, perhaps Charlie should have sought to delay the confrontation. But The Prince had had a belly full of retreat, and so too had most of his men. It was time. Despite fatigue and hunger, we eagerly anticipated using all our still considerable might to stop the government advance: now or never.

The two armies faced each other in battle lines about one half mile apart. We opened with a single volley of cannon fire. Cumberland responded with a sustained barrage of highly destructive cannon fire. They were not going to attack. They were happy to continue pummeling us from afar. Eventually we had no choice but to charge. The boggy ground slowed us down, but far worse was the grape-shot. It tore into us mercilessly. One Clan Chief, while on horseback at the head of his attacking clansmen, was cut down by the grape-shot, both his ankles broken. Rising to his knees, he entreated his Clan to press the attack. Pushing fiercely forward into the hellish spitfire, we on the right of the Jacobite assault broke through the first English line, inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy. Dense smoke now surrounded us, impairing vision and confusing our bearings. But we pressed on toward the second government line, only to be met with still more musketry and withering grape-shot, coming at us now from our flank as well as from the front. Our situation soon became desperate. Elsewhere along the Jacobite front the Clans had been less successful, failing to break through even the first government line. There were times when, with no enemy within reach of our Claymores, some of us would tear stones from the ground and hurl them with savage frustration in the direction of the enemy musketry. We did everything we could, but we had gone as far as we were going to go. The choice now was retreat or die. Most who were still able chose to retreat with their clansmen. Some, of course, chose that day and that place to die a warrior's death. And they knew, as they lay there dying, that their way of life was dying with them.

The Campbells, fighting for the government forces against their fellow Highlanders, had so far remained in reserve behind a stone wall. Once we began our retreat, however, the Campbells sprung into action. But we fought a relatively ordered rear-guard retreat, so the Campbells sustained as much damage as they inflicted. To be fair, it should be pointed out that the Campbells were not the only clansmen fighting on the side of the government. Nor did all Campbells strive to kill highlanders that day: some fought and died for the chivalrous ideals of Prince Charlie Stewart and for the survival of the highland way of life.

After the battle, the government forces (common soldiers and officers alike) combed the battlefield, massacring any wounded they found and joyously sprinkling one another with the blood of the slain. In their pursuit of the retreating highlanders, they even cut down innocent local inhabitants who, out of curiosity, had come out to watch the spectacle. The English had lost about 300 men, the Caledonians about five times that number. Some of my Faerie brethren died as well. Though no physical force could have killed them they succumbed, I suppose, to sadness or to despair, or as a final tribute to the mortal Caledonian warriors whose lives we had shared for so long and whose culture was being swallowed up and spit out by a world that seemed to no longer have room in it either for them or for Faeries.

The next day, thirty wounded Highlanders were found huddled together in a goat hut not far from the battlefield. The English set fire to the hut, burning the wounded Highlanders alive. Although there were instances of individual Englishmen bravely standing up against the post-battle government atrocities, they were few and generally ineffective against the mass mood of malice fostered both by the Duke of Cumberland and by the government. Cumberland subsequently became known as "The Butcher."

Some of the Highlanders felt that under different circumstances, the outcome of the battle might have been reversed, and others refused to accept defeat. These joined into a force of about 2500 men willing to continue fighting for the cause, resolved to keep hope alive. By then, Prince Charlie had been secreted away by a few advisors intent on securing his safety in the face of marauding Englishmen. After receiving a highly critical letter of resignation from his commanding general Lord Murray, Charlie sent a message via courier to the greatly reduced but still game Jacobite army: Charles had decided to return to France and leave we who had fought for him to fight for ourselves, if we still could. Lacking both provisions and funds to secure provisions, and having been abandoned by our Prince, we surrendered to melancholy and reluctantly dispersed.

### AFTERMATH

After Culloden, The Butcher resolved to ferret out Prince Charles and any who might have supported or might sympathize with the Jacobite cause. Preferring that Charlie not be captured alive, he instructed his captains to take no prisoners. Fugitives from the battle were shot or hanged. The homes of Caledonian lords and common people alike were plundered and burned. Clan livestock was driven out of their highland glens to be sold at auction to Englishmen and lowlanders. Where the women weren't murdered, they were brutalized and turned out naked to starve with their children on the now barren land. A thousand Highlanders who'd had little, if anything, to do with the uprising were rounded up and sold to American plantations.

The government extended their Rebel Hunting even into the lowlands, requiring Clergy to provide lists of any parishioners suspected of Jacobite sympathies. Anyone thought to have knowledge of Charlie's whereabouts but refusing to reveal that information was hung.

The Parliament in London passed laws stripping the Clans of weapons and prohibiting Clan Chiefs from forming armies. Bagpipes were outlawed, as was Highland dress and even Highland beer. (For millennia, beer had been brewed with heather in the Highlands, where it had been lustily enjoyed by human and Faerie alike. But by a new law, instead of using heather, the Caledonians were forced to import hops: a non-native plant that brewed a more bitter beer.)

Though the Clan system had evolved over recent centuries, it had maintained the essential nature of the relationship between the Clansmen, their lands, and their Chiefs. In some cases, Clansmen had become tenants of their Chief. But the tenant-Chief relationship was one of mutual obligation and shared responsibility. The clansmen remained secure in their occupation of the same lands their ancestors had called home. The government's destruction of the Clan system made the clansmen tenants on land now owned by Englishmen, or by lowlanders, or at best by elitist landlords isolated in highland mansions. And it turned the Clansmen into commodities. Clan life was forcibly replaced by a system of economic feudalism that had no heart, no soul. So there was no place within it for the Caledonian spirit to take root. Also, the spirit of Caledonia was kept separate from whatever souls these landlords might have had by the distance they maintained between themselves and both the land and the people they sought to exploit. Within a few decades, they realized that sheep would be more profitable to them than people. So with sometimes considerable brutality, they forcibly evicted "their" people from millions of acres of hereditary Caledonian homelands - to make room for herds of sheep.

As for Charlie, his plan to flee to France was confounded by the intensity of the British government's manhunt. Every road, every port, every escape route Charlie tried was effectively blocked by government agents. For five months, the Prince scrambled from one hideout to another, never staying long in any one place, often narrowly evading capture thanks only to incredibly timely intelligence or to impossibly fortuitous circumstance. He never lacked the companionship of trusted friends. But the fugitive nature of his wanderings required that the number of those accompanying him be kept small – sometimes only one or two. Of necessity, he lived close to the land, taking shelter where it could be found: occasionally in well tended homes, often in mud-floored huts or beneath rock outcroppings. Despite crude accommodation, meager rations, and often arduous exertions, the Prince never complained. His survival during those five months would not have been possible without the help of hundreds: some of them of the lowest social rank and desperately poor. Yet the Prince treated them as equals and always expressed sincere gratitude for even the smallest of favors. Though a huge reward had been offered for information leading to Charlie's capture, none of the souls he met during his five month ordeal betrayed him.

Finally, fourteen months after he had first set foot on Caledonian soil, a French vessel managed to elude British patrols and carry Charles back over the water to France, where he was enthusiastically greeted by those already familiar with stories of the chivalrous Prince and his daring adventures. For a time, he was the toast of the continent. Had Charlie still been the same royal adventurer who first left France on a righteous quest, he would likely have encouraged the adulation and thrived on his notoriety. But he was no longer that man. Nor was he the same Charles Stewart who had run from Culloden. Not surprisingly, his British adventure had changed him. The experience of his failed nine month campaign to regain the British throne for the house of Stewart was, of course, significant. But the change that reached far deeper into Charlie's soul came from the five months he spent as a fugitive in desperate association with the people and the land of Caledonia. The Caledonian spirit was no longer something he had just heard about or even merely experienced. It was now something he felt, intimately. It was part of him. Though friends assured him that the destruction of the Clans would have been inevitable, even without Charlie's involvement, the loss of that way of life now moved him deeply. Celebrating adventures that had culminated in such tragedy was not something he could long endure. He began drinking heavily, often tearfully toasting his highland warriors. At the age of sixty-eight, lonely and disappointed, Prince Charles Edward Stewart died a beaten man – but not a broken one. His youthful expectations had been defeated, but he never gave up hope of regaining the throne. During his later years, he made several covert trips to England, seeking support for a Stewart restoration. Unable to face the new reality in Caledonia, however, he never returned to the people who had given him everything they had, or to the land he had come to love.

Faeries never really understood the uniquely human attribute of hope, though in retrospect it seems we should have. Perhaps lifetimes spanning millennia, spent surfing the tides of eternity had numbed us to the significance of mortal aspirations. It may also be that we had become self-absorbed, taking human belief in us for granted.

The defeat suffered by the Clans in their last stand at Culloden was followed by a reinvigorated suppression of their ancient ways. So the human belief systems that had once so invigorated human-Faerie interaction suffered, leaving us feeling weakened when in human society. That sad circumstance, combined with the accelerated destruction of our ancient Caledonian forest home, led many Faeries to forsake the world of humanity. We withdrew to the Otherworld: the Fairy realm accessed from within where the forests can not be destroyed by outside forces. But we could never completely close the doors between our worlds. Something kept the connection alive. Though age-old faiths had been suppressed, they could not be destroyed. Knowledge that "the Faerie folk are in old oak" survived. People sought us out. Faith, and hope, kept our worlds connected. And unexpectedly, their belief in us gave us something to believe in.

Hope has been called the refuge of the weak. The suggestion has been that by taking control of circumstances, the strong will create the future they want while the weak will be left merely hoping for a future that will never be more than a dream. However, Faeries have always known that reliable control over circumstance is not possible. The future is mysterious. We can choose which road to follow, but what awaits us along that road is beyond our control. What we **can** control is how we react to all those roadside attractions. We can try to ignore them, of course, until something reaches out and grabs us. But where is the fun in ignoring life? So Faeries have always embraced the mysterious. After Culloden, when those humans who ignored life became dominant, some surrendered their hope and joined the lifeless. But there were those who refused such surrender, and because of them we Faeries finally came to understand and celebrate hope.

The government was rapacious in its genocidal repression of the Highlanders. It took their livestock, their livelihoods, their lands, their lives... But hope can not be taken. It can only be given away. Without hope, dreams die. Held onto, however, it is more powerful than all the things that can be stripped away by any outside force that would control us. Those who embrace mystery know that the future, no matter how bleak it might appear, is never certain. The knowledge of that uncertainty enables hope: hope that empowers a strength of purpose that can make dreams come true. The cause of the Clans and the dream of Stewardship have been portrayed as hopeless – by those who would rob us of our hope, steal our strength, kill our dreams. But the future remains mysterious, and some things really are worth fighting for: a humbling lesson for a Faerie to learn from mortal men.

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