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The Braes of Strathdearn

October 1645

Oh it was a breezy afternoon on the moors of Moyness, the wind bit hard into the exposed skin of every man braving the wintery conditions and there was a strong chill about. Winter was coming; there could be no doubt about that in my head, twas inevitable and unavoidable. Food was always a problem in the harsh winter, and always many a good folk did not see through the darkness to Spring because of it, hence our reasons for being so far out of friendly lands. We had to find food, whether we take it lawfully or no did not matter, we would starve without it. Our party was strong and there would be few men brave or stupid enough to contest us, we were confident that we would find food and the thought of fresh meat caused my stomach to grumble all the more.

Further we trudged on the open plains, the light beginning to fade and the cold seeping into our bones. We would have to turn back soon if there was no food to be found, the thought of that drove us on further, desperate to find something to come home with. We crested a small embankment that lined a stream, beyond that stream lay a stone wall and within that, livestock. We lay low now, observing the area. It was only a small farm, a tiny croft out here in the remotest of places and yet we could see the lanterns burning from within, folk were home. These stone walls, while sturdy to the elements would do little to stop us from creating a gap in it, and from that gap we would drive the two cattle within back towards our territories. We would have to move quickly, these lands are home to Clan Grant and they would be on us like hounds if we did not put distance between us. The plan was set in motion; we sprang forth across the stream and sprinted towards the wall. I kept an eye on the cattle as I ran forwards, disturbing them would not be good for us and so I moved cautiously as we neared the wall, as did the others. The wall was disassembled quickly, a gap wide enough to fit a cow through when forced. We jumped into the croft land and quickly encircled the two cows who looked on cautiously. Six of us did this while the rest went in search of anything else to raid before we made off. The cows were not complying; stubborn they were, refusing to budge. Patrick Cameron, the biggest of all us Camerons present shoved his small buckler shield with great force into the face of one of the beasts, causing it to turn in pain and run through the gap, demolishing more walls in the process and creating a terrible racket. Movement could be seen within the house, it was time to leave and quick.

We ran back across the stream, dragging the reluctant cows by ropes who were still yelling for all they were worth. I felt unease, this wasn’t the quick operation we hoped for, and they knew we were here. We could hear shouts from the croft, shouts of alarm and anger. The sound of hooves greeted our ears; a rider could be seen riding away into the distance with great haste. Again I felt the heat leave my body, no doubt that rider was going to fetch help and men would be hunting us across the moors. The others knew this too and we moved with great urgency. The sun was beginning to set, if we could create enough distance, we might lose them in the night. Yet still, the cattle moved slowly and repeatedly resisted the frantic pulling of the men of Clan Cameron. Somehow, we managed to make ground over the course of the next hour as still as we rushed onwards, approaching rapidly the Braes of Strathdearn. Our pace slowed slightly, we were exhausted, I was exhausted, my legs ached terribly and the cold air clawed at my lungs. Man and beast alike were panting with exhaustion as we reached the Braes, the sun was fading fast now, and confidence was slowly being restored within the party. That was soon drained again as suddenly and clearly hooves could be heard, thundering behind us only a few minutes away. Panic overcame us; I myself began to run frantically, the sound of the horses growing ever louder in my ears, the defiant cry of the Grant’s thundered down the Braes. Within minutes they were upon us, I watched in horror as men who tried still to pull the cattle were cut down or impaled on spears, their cries piercing the sky. There was no escape.

The cavalry was eating into the rear of our group and those of us ahead turned to make a stand, a defiant stand to meet our end, for if it were to be here then we would meet them that was sure. The ground shook where I stood as the horsemen galloped towards the small defiant band of men who had chosen to meet their end. I breathed heavily, part in fear, part in exhilaration as I watched the Grants descend on us with terrifying power. The force of the impact threw me off me feet and flung me far from my original position. Screams of pain, fear and suffering filled my ears, the clash of steal and the scarred thrashing of horses as the skirmish raged around me. I was immobile, helpless, my legs searing with pain unlike that I have ever felt. I had no weapon, no shield and I was crippled on the field, all I could do was watch on helplessly. I witnessed Angus Cameron being impaled on two spears, Fergus lose his head to one fell swoop of a sword, even young Scott, a lad of just 17 was cut down and slain by a man twice his size. Camerons fell all around, tumbling to the ground clutching their wounds, few were left now. A Grant suddenly appeared in my vision, thrusting his face close to mine, sneering at me with contempt before spitting over my body. Time slowed to a crawl as he prepared to thrust his sword into my flesh. I turned my head to see yet another Cameron fall, to join his kinsmen on the path towards death after his fight of defiance. The battlefield was silent now; the skirmish was short, but brutal. Only the groans of Camerons penetrated the air and the quick whoosh of swords as they were silenced forever. Downwards thrust the sword that pierced my heart, quick, sudden and painless. Life began to leave me, my blood infusing with that of my kinsmen on the blood soaked ground. The light began to fade, the sounds began to dim and all was quiet. This is where I would lay, along with my valiant brothers who fought to their last today. Here forever we would remain to exist as a memory, here on the Braes of Strathdearn.