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Scotland

What you are describing sounds like a typical "clan raid". I was quite intrigued by reading about the "Battle of Shirts". The clans Fraser and Cameron were involved. In the end, only five Frasers, and eight Camerons survived. When they weren't fighting the English, they were very happy to murder each other. By the way, I started doing research on a Scots PL. I found a Jean Stewart, married to a Robert Fraser, born around 1750,but records aren't good before the "45". When I told my husband that he was hanged for his part in the "Rising", the look of shock and belief on his face was almost comical. He is constantly fomenting political rebellion in this life, and I wouldn't doubt, has been at it for centuries. Perhaps you can get a name for your "little boy" self, Tanguerra. The name of his clan would help. I like to get some validation when it's possible.
 
Thanks BriarRose. I'll see what else I can come up with. Yes, I do get the feeling there was some kind of 'civil war' going on - fighting between different clans over lands, vendettas, whatever. There was probably pressure coming up from the English raids in the south, pushing people northwards and radicalising people to the point where they were forming up into a larger 'army' to deal with it.


Interestingly or otherwise, X can trace his family ancestry back to the Campbells, who were aligned with the British back then I believe. I once had a flash of him on horseback, being some kind of important officer overlooking a battle from a distance. He was in an outfit not unlike this, with a red coat. This is John Campbell Duke of Argyle from around about this time and his features are not unlike X's (I'm not saying this was him, but possibly some distant ancestor). Perhaps that fits in somewhere in this life, but I don't get the feeling we were at all close.


John_Campbell_2nd_Duke_of_Argyll.jpg
 
Maybe in later life I became a mercenary for the 'other side', at least for a time. Not something I feel proud of (now or then). No doubt I felt I had little choice at the time (or so it would have seemed). Hmmm....
 
A quick google of 'Campbell mercenaries Scottish uprising' yields this:


http://www.scottish-history.com/glencoe.shtml

"...Glencoe is where the little community of the MacIan's, of the MacDonald clan lived. In early winter, 2 February 1692, the small clan of the MacIan of MacDonald's, generally, simply referred to as MacDonalds, were visited by the detachment of Campbells and their Highland mercenaries. From all accounts, they were received with hospitality. The Chieftain's were related by marriage. The Campbells and their troops stayed for nearly two weeks and were on friendly terms with their hosts.
At this time it needs to be pointed out that the regiment sent to deal with the MacDonalds were not only of Campbell members or clans. They had various names in their ranks from all over Scotland, but it was clear they were under the direction of the Campell commander, Robert Campbell, and he was under clear direction of Dalrymple - thus also William of Orange. To look at this incident as a clan feud or a Clan Campbell versus the Clan MacDonald would be incorrect and misleading....
BriarRose, I'm trying not to 'pollute' what I remember with too much googling, but 'McIan' did jump out at me the other night. Blood fueds were not uncommon back then and I'm sure I (and my brothers) would have had our reasons.... Probably seemed like a good idea at the time.


http://www.ccsna.org/jsep60b.htm


Glenlyon.jpg



[Looks a bit spookily like X though]

...Copy of order to Capt. Robert Campbell of Glenlyon by Maj. Duncanson:
Glencoe Order "You are hereby ordered to fall upon the rebels, the McDonalds of Glenco, and put all to the sword under seventy. You are to have a special care that the old Fox and his sons doe upon no account escape your hands, you are to secure all the avenues that no man escape. This you are to putt in execution at fyve of the clock precisely; and by that time, or very shortly after it, I'll strive to be att you with a stronger party: if I doe not come to you att fyve, you are not to tarry for me, but to fall on. This is by the Kings speciall command, for the good & safety of the Country, that these miscreants be cutt off root and branch. See that this be putt in execution without feud or favour, else you may expect to be dealt with as one not true to King nor Government, nor a man fitt to carry Commissione in the Kings service. Expecting you will not faill in the fulfilling hereof, as you love your selfe, I subscribe these with my hand att Balicholis Feb: 12, 1692.


(signed) R. Duncanson


For their Majesties service"


Those who try so hard to make out that the massacre was a "clan" event are obliged to gloss over the fact that many of the MacDonalds escaped over the passes onto Campbell lands in Glen Etive where they were succoured by their kinsfolk there. The government piper who played a well-known Campbell tune of warning before the massacre is seldom given credit. In fact, the massacre was so badly conducted that only thirty-eight of the near three hundred people were killed, a clear indication of the unwillingness of the Highlanders among the troops to kill their neighbours upon whom they had been billeted....
 
I've found this thread very interesting. Although I don't feel any particular pull toward Scotland, I have loved bagpipes from when I was a child. My mother used to take me to parades, and I would get so excited when I heard the bagpipes in the distance. I would always start jumping around saying "the bagpipes are coming!" I still love them to this day. One time I was in the car with DH and found a station with bagpipe music, and was very disappointed that he wouldn't let me leave it on.
 
I have a few inexpensive CDs of the pipes, Misty. Pandora Radio also has a Celtic station, that you can stream on your computer, or on your TV monitor. One of my husband's nephews actually plays the pipes for weddings, funerals, etc. It's an unusual hobby for a college student, I think. Pipe music seems to be an unusual taste in the U.S., so I often think there may be a PL connection.
 
Misty8723 said:
I have loved bagpipes from when I was a child. My mother used to take me to parades, and I would get so excited when I heard the bagpipes in the distance. I would always start jumping around saying "the bagpipes are coming!" I still love them to this day.
Bagpipes could indicate a PL either in Scotland or Ireland.
 
BriarRose said:
Pandora Radio also has a Celtic station, that you can stream on your computer, or on your TV monitor.
You can also stream stations and channels through iTunes.

BriarRose said:
Pipe music seems to be an unusual taste in the U.S., so I often think there may be a PL connection.
It's because of all the Irish immigrants. Look at all the Irish names in the phone book.
 
BriarRose said:
I have a few inexpensive CDs of the pipes, Misty. Pandora Radio also has a Celtic station, that you can stream on your computer, or on your TV monitor. One of my husband's nephews actually plays the pipes for weddings, funerals, etc. It's an unusual hobby for a college student, I think. Pipe music seems to be an unusual taste in the U.S., so I often think there may be a PL connection.
I will have to look into Pandora. I love Celtic music, have a couple CDs that were given to me as gifts.
 
Pandora is free, up to a certain number of down-loads. You can make your own play-lists. I like so many kinds of music, that they must think that I have multiple personality disorder!
 
Thanks, BriarRose, that's a kind thing to say! In my dream I only seemed to be straightening cloaks and giving a supportive hug. Nothing war-changing, that's for sure! I too love plaid shirts! Although there was sadly no tartan in my dream, just green and grey cloaks, which seemed to match the era that I researched!


Tanguerra, The dream that sparked my belief in a Scottish PL (or more than one!) was very similar in theme to yours. Mine felt like a skirmish between clans too. Definitely not the English. The men going to fight were few and far between, with a few elderly men also taking up arms. But I was a young woman and must stay behind. When I meditated on this I managed to explore the camp itself. I didn't have a feeling of fear, this seemed like a minor battle that I thought we would win. I just remember needing to find people (three of my brothers, I think), to say goodbye and wish them well, although I wasn't overly worried about them. I just remember shouting their (typically Scottish!) names as I wandered around!
 
Misty8723 said:
I've found this thread very interesting. Although I don't feel any particular pull toward Scotland, I have loved bagpipes from when I was a child.
Bagpipes could also indicate Northumberland in England. They have a distictive type of bagpipe called the Northumbrian pipes which have a very distinctive sound, quite different to Scottish bagpipes. They're still used quite often by Northumbrian folk musicians :)
 
It's definitely the Scottish bagpipes I'm drawn to. I was just comparing with youtube videos. The Northumbrian ones are nice, but don't stir me like the Scottish ones do.
 
I remembered some more last night. I was restless and couldn't sleep, so I thought, why not do a meditation? Perhaps at the very least it would relax me and maybe I'd fall asleep anyway. I've been very busy at work and my mind continued to go back to work related thoughts and refused to settle down, so I used the Active Meditation technique.


I took myself back to being a little boy wrapped up in wolf skins when I was awoken by a 'commotion'. I deliberately slowed it all down and got a good look at where I was and what exactly was going on. Our house was built of big logs of wood, more or less in the shape of a boat, in that it was pointy at one end and blunt at the other. The 'pointy end' was built into a cleft in the rocks of the side of the valley. Very clever really because you get the thermal mass of the hillside and shelter from the weather. My mother and father had their bedroom right in the 'point' and it was closed off with some kind of thick curtain. The girls (there were three) slept outside the parents' room in beds against the walls. In the middle of the house, which sloped downhill, with steps between the levels, was the 'work' area. The kitchen on one side and on the other, spinning wheels and looms and such, wool hanging up in big 'skeins'. Well, we were shepherds. The boys (there were three plus me) slept in the blunt end. This end looked out over the little valley and had a back entrance where the boys could go in and out and tend to the sheep and so on, a little alcove for storing coats and muddy boots. The boys' end had beds built in around the walls as well - like little alcoves for sleeping. There were wolf skins on the boys' beds - presumably trapped and killed by the boys themselves over the years. I think the girls had sheep skins and woollen blankets and the like.


It was a sizeable house. Not a rich man's house by any means but it had a very settled, comfortable and properous sort of feel, as though this family had been living there for at least a few generations and were doing pretty well for themselves, in a modest Scottish sort of way.


The commotion that woke me was my mother and sisters all up at their end of the house whispering and getting out of bed and so on. I climbed out of bed, my little legs bare, (I think I'd be about 8 or so) wearing a shirt of some sort, cold flag stones on my bare feet.... The girls and my mother were looking out the door (which was in the middle of the house, near the kitchen) and we could see fire against the night sky. My mother got us all inside, put out the fire, and any lights.... as I described above. I don't remember any more of that. I assume I fell asleep.


So I said to myself (in real life) 'OK, so what happened next?' .....


I had a few flashes.


My father came back after a time with two of my brothers, but one had been killed. I would have been maybe 10 then.


I remembered some years later (I'd be about 14) we packed up the whole house. All our stuff was bundled up and put on a cart. We joined up with the rest of the village and made the long trek, north, (definitely uphill most of the way!). I remember I had lanky legs and red curly hair. The men mostly wore a red tartan and my present day self thought that was a fairly unfortunate combination with all that red hair...but anyway... :)


Everyone around about was flocking to the same place to find safety in numbers. It was a large castle that was owned by a nobleman distantly related to our family / clan. The old fashioned way in times of trouble I suppose. The 'Laird' took everyone in. The women were put to work in the kitchens or laundries or whatever and the men would work for him doing trades, or become his soldiers or whatever else he might need done. Fair enough deal I guess in the circumstances.


But, it wasn't really a lord and serfs sort of situation really, or even a master/servant situation. While everyone admired and respected the Laird and all, there was a feeling of more equality than I would have expected. There was a sense that we were all in this together, and we were all family as well in one way or another, so we all rubbed along well enough.


I remembered a large b@anquet in the big hall, and yes, lots of Scottish dancing going on. I was older by now, 17 or 18 or so perhaps. I'd begun to fill out, and was very tall, although still rather awkward. I'd been helping out the Laird with my brothers doing a bit of our own 'skirmishing'. I had a flash of clambering through the brush up some hillside with my brothers and a handy set of cousins. It was a bit like rabbit hunting, but that wasn't what we were up to. I think we were ambushing a road....


There was a girl I remember seeing (possibly later to become my sweetheart) at the b@anquet. She was a distant cousin and also had red hair. I don't get an 'X' vibe about her (thank goodness!). She had her face in her hands and was crying. She was sitting a little away from everyone, by a fire. I had the feeling perhaps her mother had died. I wanted to go and put my arm around her shoulder and console her, but was too shy.


There's more. I might save it for later.


------------------------------


Just for fun I googled 'old scottish castle' (images) and found this which is exactly what I remember. The photo is taken from almost the same angle on the road where I remember looking at this castle, when we first arrived with all our bags and baggage. But we were still much further away than this, and more round to the 'right', towards the 'front' of the castle. But, in those days there were no roads or flower beds or anything in the foreground. There were lots more trees and green grass on the hillside where a lot of sheep were grazing. It's a big photo, so I'll just post the link and you can have a look if you're interested. It's Edinburgh Castle.
 
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The castle looks very formidable. I wonder how many people it could hold? Almost like a small village inside the walls.
 
I read that up to a certain point in time, men wore clan badges in their hats instead of plaids. That might help you narrow down the date. My memories of Ian Campbell have him sleeping in a big, coarsely woven shirt. Maybe they wore the same thing day and night, just adding pieces in the daytime? I imagine they would have gone farther into the Highlands in times of trouble, and taken refuge with a Laird. Talking about this still makes me want to go "home", and it has been a few centuries since I lived in Scotland.
 
argonne1918 said:
The castle looks very formidable. I wonder how many people it could hold? Almost like a small village inside the walls.
Yes. It was like several villages inside in fact! I think we lived there for many years while all the trouble was going on. We'd have preferred to be at home, on our own farm, but this was safer. The whole place was fairly self-sustaining. There were blacksmiths, stables, kitchens and so and in various different buildings. Indeed, it is a purpose built fortress for just this sort of situation. I think my brothers and I slept in a sort of barracks room full of bunks for men only. Women would have had other sleeping quarters.


I believe the UK military still owns and runs Edinburgh Castle today, although it's mostly a tourist attraction and the venue for the annual military tatoo and that kind of thing rather than a 'working' fortress. Let's hope it never has to be pressed into service again! Although today with modern airforces and bombs not even a fortress like this would be impregnable.
 
BriarRose said:
I read that up to a certain point in time, men wore clan badges in their hats instead of plaids. That might help you narrow down the date. My memories of Ian Campbell have him sleeping in a big, coarsely woven shirt. Maybe they wore the same thing day and night, just adding pieces in the daytime? I imagine they would have gone farther into the Highlands in times of trouble, and taken refuge with a Laird. Talking about this still makes me want to go "home", and it has been a few centuries since I lived in Scotland.
I'm still not sure exactly when this might have all been. It could be anywhere within a period of several hundred years really - anywhere between 1300 - 1700. I did a bit of googling and the Bruces controlled Edinburgh Castle for many years and had a red tartan. It's possible we were relatives of the Bruces who were a large and powerful clan in that region.


This might interest you BR.

...Robert [the Bruce]'s son, David II of Scotland became king on his father's death in 1329. In 1346 under the terms of the Auld Alliance David marched south into England in the interests of France, but was defeated at the Battle of Neville's Cross and imprisoned on 17 October of that year, and remained in England for eleven years. David returned to Scotland after negotiation of a treaty and ruled there until he died in Edinburgh Castle unexpectedly in 1371 without issue. The line of succession passed to the House of Stewart.[1]
I'm not really all that interested in finding out the contextual historical details at this point though personally. I'm more interested in what it all means for me rather than chasing down verifications. That can be fun, but I think it's better to remember first and verify later. That way you can be sure you're not fooling yourself.


.... However, I'm positive it was Edinburgh Castle, by the image I recalled. Certainly the b@anquet I recall was in a very large hall. But that doesn't help too much with narrowing down the period. It could be anywhere over a period of several hundred years...


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edinburgh_Castle

... From the 15th century the castle's residential role declined, and by the 17th century its principal role was as a military base with a large garrison. ... As one of the most important fortresses in the Kingdom of Scotland, Edinburgh Castle was involved in many historical conflicts, from the Wars of Scottish Independence in the 14th century, up to the Jacobite Rising of 1745, and has been besieged, both successfully and unsuccessfully, on several occasions....
The castle changed hands several times between the British and the Scots...

On 14 March 1314, a surprise night attack by Thomas Randolph, 1st Earl of Moray, recaptured the castle. John Barbour's narrative poem The Brus relates how a party of thirty hand-picked men were guided by one William Francis, a member of the garrison who knew of a route along the north face of the Castle Rock, and a place where the wall might be scaled. Making the difficult ascent, Randolph's men took the garrison by surprise and took control...
...Edward invaded in 1333, marking the start of the Second War of Scottish Independence, and the English forces reoccupied and refortified Edinburgh Castle in 1335,[47] holding it until 1341. This time, the Scottish assault was led by William Douglas, Lord of Liddesdale. Douglas's party disguised themselves as merchants from Leith bringing supplies to the garrison. Driving a cart into the castle, they halted it to prevent the gates closing. A larger force hidden nearby rushed to join them, and the castle was retaken.[40] The English garrison, numbering 100, were all killed...
 
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I just realised something. For the past two or three weeks or so since I've been thinking and pondering and writing about this Scottish life, two of my friends (two splendid, tall and strapping, men I've known for many years this life) have been kind of 'blocking my view' with their blue and white plaid shirts. If I go out somewhere to listen to some music or something I'll often ask one of these two along as company or for a lift or whatever - just a 'mates' thing. We all live locally in our little 'village'. They're both 'sort of' single at the moment, so we've been hanging out a bit more than usual, but there's nothing going on romantically with either of them with me. It's all strictly 'pals' - nothing more. We're all about the same age ... just mates.


One (who has absolutely no Anglo heritage by the way, quite the reverse) wears a blue and white plaid shirt pretty much all the time and I hadn't even really noticed before. The other one (I've known 30 years this life, longer than X) pretty much always wears black (inner city style). Except very recently his mother died and he's taken to wearing a bit more colour paradoxically (ironically?). Last week we went to see some musician friends of ours playing and he was blocking my view with this blue and white plaid shirt... and...


Tonight we've all just been out to a party at my daughter's house (with X as well, yes really). We had a lot of fun and something just went 'click' about these guys (not X) being my brothers all along... No wonder!
 
tanguerra said:
Tonight we've all just been out to a party at my daughter's house (with X as well, yes really). We had a lot of fun and something just went 'click' about these guys (not X) being my brothers all along... No wonder!
Another puzzle piece has been inserted. Good job!
 
Yes, maybe. I'm not as convinced today as yesterday, but perhaps. Especially one of them who has always just been there, part of the 'furniture' of my life. It would be nice. I often refer to him as my 'pretend big brother' because I've only got sisters and if I had a brother I'd like him to be like this guy.
 
I posted a little while ago, this little incident in the 'village'.


This afternoon I went out to listen to a b@and with some friends. Before the b@and began they were tuning up and plugging in and so on and the fiddle player and the drummer started just messing around with a Scottish folk tune, just for fun (they usually play more sort of western swing / pop type of music). I thought, good heavens this Scottish thing is following me around!
Anyway a few minutes later a big, tall man walked in carrying a baby in a back pack thing. I thought, Aw, how cute! (as you do). Then the man lifted the little child up and something about this big guy and the way he so tenderly lifted the little child out of the backpack and held him in his arms made my eyes fill up with tears. I realised it was not just my 'sweetheart' that I knew I would never see again back then in Scotland, but also my little son. I had to pretend I had something in my eye for a minute or two until I could get hold of myself.
My mate [D] was meeting up with me at this event and he walked in just after this little tableau took place, just as I was dashing a tear out of my eye. It's he I told I thought there was a bit of grit or mascara or something in my eye. So, he went and bought us a beer, as you do, and that was all forgotten and music and merriment was the next item on the agenda.


My mate's name in real life is a Scottish name, funnily enough, although he's an Aussie through and through, but let's call him Douglas, because that's the name that feels right to me.
 
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So, a bit more from the flashback from the other night. I remembered being a grown up man, very big and tall with a thick red beard. There were hundreds of men, all going off along a road to fight a battle. I had bid goodbye to my wife and little son and didn't know if I'd ever see them again. I wished I could just go and live on our farm again in peace and tranquility but that didn't seem like it was ever going to happen. I was getting heartily sick of fighting by this time and beginning to wonder if it was all futile.


I had a thought that this was how the world is even now... and it is part of a longer process that's been going on for hundreds of years. People keep getting swallowed up into the big 'machine' - in our case the war, the castle, in service of our 'Laird'. This was all taking us away from more productive activities (like farming) and was replacing our individual independence and self-determination with destructive activities like war - all driven by a minority of powerful men (it's mostly men doing this stuff).


These days it's the 'military industrial complex' that is making slaves of us all in the service of oil, coal, 'finance' and arms manufacturers. We are wasting our lives and destroying our planet working like serfs for corporate masters, but it's the extension of the process that had begun back then.
 
Very true, Tanguerra. I wish we all had the intestinal fortitude to refuse to participate in this. Your theory is part of what the anti-war movement was about in the U.S. during the Viet Nam conflict. Many people my age realized the futility of this behavior, and refused to be part of it. I am constantly aware of the ease with which the military-industrial-political complex sells people a "bill of goods"!
 
The other night a man I've had a nodding acquaintance with for several years, suddenly 'presented' himself into my awareness (I noticed him properly for the first time) and I learned his name, (although he knew mine well enough).

He's always chatted to me slighthly in a friendly way, but... one meets so many people after all ... He is tall, good looking, Scottish looking, about my age, has a Scottish name and has long curly hair (grey now of course, but looks as though it used to be red) which oddly reminded me of 'something'.

I suddenly wondered if maybe he'd been my 'sweetheart' back then? Funny. It was a bit 'de ja vu' - that old familiar feeling. Just like 'bonnie Heather' in 'The Highlander'

'.

I felt such a strange tinge of sweet sadness and nostalgia looking at his hair, even though he wears it tied back ... hard to describe. I sooooo wanted to touch his hair, but of course, did not.

I suddenly thought, with great longing, how I wished we (she and I) could have lived together until old age on our farm just raising sheep and children, away from war and trouble and strife. We'd have been happy. I like to think so anyway, if things had been different...if I'd have come home.
Let's see what happens when I run into him again, as no doubt I will. Twould be interesting, in light of all this, if he was 'she'. He's a very nice man, but I've never really paid him much attention, caught up in the madness of X as I often am (have been until recently - now that I'm 'free').

It's probably just foolishness. For all I know he's married or something ... but... *(you never know)*.

Who waits forever anyway....
 
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Weirdly, strangely (or not) all of these incidents of 'de ja vu' I have described have taken place at a hotel called 'The Lomond' - fairly close to my present life home. Loch Lomond is less than 80 miles from Edinburgh Castle - about a week's trek with bags, baggage, babies, etc ... hmmmmm.
 
Hmm . . . Could be!


tanguerra, I don't think I ever mentioned it, but I really like reading all of your memories.
 
Last night I went out again to 'The Lomond', with my 'pretend brother' and another friend. No de ja vu, I'm happy to report (apart from the usual). Just a normal fun Friday night out in the 'village'.


But when I got home I had a brief flash before falling asleep of another b@anquet at the castle when I got up the courage to ask her to dance. We'd just won an important battle, which was the occasion of the b@anquet, and I was feeling very happy and strong and full of 'life'.

tanguerra said:
... There was a girl I remember seeing (possibly later to become my sweetheart) at the b@anquet. She was a distant cousin and also had red hair. I don't get an 'X' vibe about her (thank goodness!). She had her face in her hands and was crying. She was sitting a little away from everyone, by a fire. I had the feeling perhaps her mother had died. I wanted to go and put my arm around her shoulder and console her, but was too shy...
A very sweet memory.
 
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A post from My friend X belongs here too. Synchronicities are abounding.... Eternity...

tanguerra said:
..I suddenly wondered if maybe he'd been my 'sweetheart' back then? Funny. It was a bit 'de ja vu' - that old familiar feeling. Just like 'bonnie Heather' in '
 
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