“They should have been ridiculous, and perhaps they were, parading in circles on top of a hill. But the hair on the back of my neck prickled at the sight and some small voice inside warned me, I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was an unwelcome voyeur to something ancient and powerful.”
You can see how flat and open and boggy it is. The highland army was completely exposed, and they then charged into the teeth of musket fire, cannons, mortars… with nothing more than their broadswords, for the most part. It was very, very quick and very bloody. The whole thing took less than an hour. How many were killed? Jacobites lost something in the region of 2000 men.
But the interesting thing is that in the years following Culloden, the estates of the Clan Chieftains were plundered, sold. The government banned the wearing of the tartan. They banned the carrying of swords, even the Gaelic language. In effect, Culloden marked the end of the clans. The end of the highlander way of life.
“I was back to the place where’d it all begun. So much had happened, so much had changed. Last I was here I was Claire Randall, then Claire Beauchamp and Claire Fraser. The question was, who did I want to be?”
“People disappear all the time. Young girls run away from home. Children stray from their parents and are never seen again. Housewives take the grocery money, and a taxi to the train station. Most are found eventually. Disappearances, after all, have explanations. Usually.”