Colchester Castle celebrates 150 years as a museum

by Sean McLachlan on

It’s not often that a museum becomes a museum piece.

The Colchester Castle Museum recently celebrated its 150th birthday. Located in Essex, England, and housed in one of the best preserved Norman castles in the world, the museum boasts a massive collection of Roman artifacts.

Colchester used to be the capital of Roman Britain until it was leveled by the warrior queen Boudica in 60 AD. As the leader of the Celtic Iceni tribe, she had defied the recent Roman conquest of England. As punishment she was whipped and her underaged daughters raped before her eyes. Boudica raised an army and wreaked a terrible revenge across Roman Britain, slaughtering an estimated 30,000 people at Colchester alone before she was defeated at the Battle of Watling Street.

The Normans built a castle here around the year 1076 on the foundations of the temple to the Emperor Claudius. The foundations were so large that the castle ended up being the biggest ever built in England. After a stint as an interrogation center for suspected witches, it eventually became a museum in 1860. Today it houses an excellent collection of Roman artifacts as well as collections from other periods. An interesting article in the Chelmsford Weekly News reports the collection is the product of generations of collectors and includes not only priceless archaeological treasures but oddities such as a crab with oysters growing on its shell.

[Photo courtesy Filip Walter via Wikimedia Commons]

The East Highland Way day four: Pictish forts and empty wilderness

by Sean McLachlan on


Views like this reassure me that I’m doing the right thing with my life.

It’s day four of my trek along the East Highland Way in Scotland, and the terrain is getting increasingly rugged. My trip today will take me through the most remote part of my walk. But before I go, I have an archaeological wonder to see first.

I head to a hill overlooking the village of Laggan to visit Dun-Da-Lamh, a fort built by the Picts. These people dominated Scotland in the murky years at the very beginning of recorded history. They were Celts like their neighbors, but with a distinctive art and culture. History first mentions them when they fought the Romans in the third century AD. It’s from a Roman writer that we get their name, which means “tattooed people”, referring to the complex blue tattoos said to cover their bodies. The Romans found Scotland more trouble than they could afford and eventually pulled back to Hadrian’s Wall, leaving the Picts to expand their power over the Highlands. These were rough times and the Picts were the fiercest warriors in the region, except for a brief period when they got their asses whooped by the Vikings. The Picts defended their land with massive hilltop forts.

After a pleasant ramble through a sunny valley of farmer’s fields and a sparkling stream, I start a grinding trudge up a steep hill. The trail coils around the hillside, it being far too steep to walk up directly. After a sweaty climb I make it to the top and on a rugged summit see the remains of the fort. It is deceptively simple in design–a single thick wall–but when new it would have been virtually impregnable. Most approaches to the summit are almost too steep to climb, especially if you have angry blue warriors throwing spears and rocks down at you. The one easy route is barred by the thickest point in the wall. Here the stones are piled 23 feet thick, and in the days before artillery nothing could have broken through. A few ravines that allow passage to the top also have strong points defending them.

%Gallery-100245%The stones are of moderate size and I don’t see any that I couldn’t lift, yet there must be tens of thousands of them. The effort required to build this place boggles my mind. It’s obvious why the Picts chose this spot. It gives a clear view down two valleys and a sweeping vista of the surrounding countryside. No army could approach without being seen.

In the tenth century the Picts united with another people, the Gaels, and founded the first true kingdom of Scotland. Even before this momentous merging of cultures they did much to create a Scottish identity. Their material remains gave later peoples something to be proud of. How could the Scottish, looking at these massive forts, the Picts’ intricately carved stone monuments of warriors and animals, and their glittering hordes of gold, not feel proud of their past? This heap of stones where I’m standing did the same for the Scots that the Parthenon did for the Greeks. It gave them a sense of identity distinct from the stronger nations that later ruled over them.

I’ve sat on this hill thinking of the past long enough. I have 15 miles to walk to get to my next stop, the village of Newtonmore, and dark clouds are gathering on the horizon. I set out.

The land between Laggan and Newtonmore is the best part of the East Highland Way. I step off a paved road onto a dirt track leading into a seemingly endless landscape of fields, streams, and hills, silent save for the wind. The track soon dissolves into nothing and I’m walking across short grass and heather. Now my compass comes in real handy. According to the maps I have to go north through a pass between two steep hills, then turn east at a stream and follow it across a broad valley surrounded by grim peaks of gray stone. While the topography is pretty clear, it’s reassuring to do some reckoning courtesy of the magnetic pole to double check where I am.

Where I am is nowhere, and that’s just where I want to be. I don’t see a soul. The few old stone cottages appear to be long abandoned. A see a few sheep grazing, so somebody must come here occasionally, but how often? My only other companions are some grouse and partridge. Rain spatters down on me as I negotiate streams that have never seen a bridge and squish along sheep’s trails that happen to go in my direction.

One peak catches my eye. Silhouetted against the gray sky is a strange shape. It appears to be either a cairn or a single standing stone. Perhaps some prehistoric marker or a monument of the Picts? It doesn’t appear on my Ordnance Survey map, which is so detailed it even marks the old crofts that have lain abandoned for three centuries. That doesn’t mean the stone is a natural feature. The land is so vast that the cartographers could miss something, even though it’s so visible from the valley below. It’s visibility hints that it is man-made, a marker of some kind. What could it be?

I don’t have time to find out. While the rain has stopped the sun is beginning to sink towards the horizon. Scotland’s summer evenings seem to last forever, but the wouldn’t last the hours it would take me to get to that summit and back down. I continue across the valley and up a hill and see Newtonmore nestled next to the River Spey. I leave the mystery of the stone behind for the next hiker to solve.

Coming up next: Exploring Scottish heritage!

Don’t miss the rest of my series on hiking the East Highland Way.

The East Highland Way: hiking Scotland’s newest trail

by Sean McLachlan on


I’m in Ft. William on the west coast of Scotland, the starting point for many popular long-distance hikes, including Scotland’s newest trail–the East Highland Way. Over the next six days I’ll be walking 76 miles past lochs, mountains, historic sites, and remote countryside. The hike is so new there isn’t even a guidebook yet, but Kevin Langan, who established the route and is writing a guidebook, kindly sent me some maps. The trail is unmarked, so these maps and a compass will be vital to be making it to Aviemore in the Central Highlands.

I wake up to a beautiful view of Loch Linnhe outside my window. The view is all that’s beautiful. It’s pouring rain, my legs hurt from climbing Ben Nevis yesterday, and I have a persistent cough courtesy of my four-year-old son that makes me hack up great gobbets of phlegm every time I say “loch”. A perfect morning to start trekking across Scotland!

Because of the scarcity of accommodation in this part of Scotland, the days aren’t of even distance. My first stop, the village of Spean Bridge, is only nine miles from Ft. William. Make that eleven since I’m staying west of town, but even so it’s an easy first day. This gives me a chance to walk out my fatigue from climbing the UK’s tallest mountain and gives me time to explore historic Ft. William.

There’s always been settlement along the shores of this loch that opens into the North Atlantic, but the city owes its prominence to the fort that gives it its name. Fort William was an English base to keep the Scots in line. There’s now a movement by some nationalists in town to change the name to something more Scottish! Not much of the original fort survives, and for more information I head to the West Highland Museum. What strikes me about this museum is the focus on the rebellions against the English. While these are a major part of Scottish history and still affect today’s politics, the coverage seems almost obsessive. Weapons and paintings of Bonnie Prince Charlie are everywhere. My own clan, Clan MacLachlan, took part in the rebellions, and what I know of Scottish history is centered around the various Lost Causes my ancestors supported. Not talking about the Scottish rebellions while in the Highlands would be like not talking about the Civil War while traveling through the American South. As I continue on my hike I’ll see places where my ancestors marched and fought, and learn more about their role in Scottish history.

I dawdle in the museum talking to the curator and hoping the rain will ease up, but it only gets worse, so I stop delaying and head on out. The town is unremarkable beyond the beautiful views of the loch. The main street has been given over to tourism and the rest of the town looks a bit run down. At the edge of town is Inverlochy Castle, pictured above. This imposing castle was built in the 13th century to guard the River Lochy and the western edge of the Great Glen, the easiest transit route to the northeast. It’s built in a basic, solid manner with a moat, a square plan, and giant towers at each corner. This isn’t some elegant Renaissance chateau castle, but a practical fortification meant to take plenty of abuse. It was the base of power for the Comyn family as they asserted their influence over much of medieval Scotland. Two battles were fought at this site and almost 800 years later much of the stonework still looks solid.

%Gallery-99692%The route east from the castle is an easy but not particularly attractive one. Like the first day of the Hadrian’s Wall Path and other popular paths, much time is spent getting out of populated areas. The route follows just south of a railway and highway on a dirt trail through managed forest. Logging is big business up here and orderly rows of trees are grown to be cut down and replaced with the next generation. Not exactly primeval woodland, but it does keep the sight of cars from my eyes.

The weather clears, then clouds up and rains, then clears again. This is typical Scottish weather–“four seasons in one day” as the saying goes. Before long I’m in Spean Bridge, a village on the River Spean. I decide the weather and my legs are in good enough shape to take a popular three-mile scenic loop trail near town. It’s the prettiest land I’ve seen all day, mostly unfarmed with wild trees and a real feel of untamed nature. It leads to the mossy ruins of High Bridge, scene of the first battle of the Jacobite uprising of 1745.

Bonnie Prince Charlie had recently landed in Scotland and was gathering the Highlanders to march on England to overthrow the Hanoverian monarchy in favor of his own Stuart line. Clan MacLachlan was quick to join up. If I had been alive at that time I doubt I’d have been enthusiastic about overthrowing one monarch only to be ruled by another, but nobody went against the wishes of their clan chief. While we were still sharpening our swords up north, a dozen men from Clan MacDonald hid at one end of this bridge awaiting a force of 85 English soldiers sent to reinforce Ft. William. On August 16th (my birthday) 1745, the redcoats tried to cross. The MacDonalds shouted at the tops of their lungs, leaping from bush to bush on the steep slope of the opposite bank and firing their muskets. The redcoats thought they were outnumbered and ran.

My ancestors did get to help out in the next battle, at Prestonpans on September 21 (my son’s birthday). On that misty morning, an English army of 2,300 men was virtually wiped out by a fierce Highland charge. This was my ancestors’ sole tactic. A mass of men would charge at the enemy. Once in musket range they’d fire their muskets (if they had them), then charge again into pistol range, fire their pistols (if they had them) and throw them at the enemy. Then they charged into the enemy lines with a shield and dirk in one hand and a sword in the other. The sheer momentum of the howling, slashing, hacking Highlanders was enough to break the English lines. It was a good start to an ill-fated campaign.

The trail continues up a steep bare hill that provides me with a grand view of the rough Highland terrain I will tackle tomorrow. At the summit is a memorial to the British commandos of World War Two. They trained here, not to overthrow one king in favor of another, but to overthrow a mad dictator bent on world domination. Never in history has the line between right and wrong been so clear cut. Nearby is a sobering garden where people leave photos of loved ones who fought and died in that war and in Iraq and Afghanistan. All my achievements pale in comparison.

Tomorrow: The East Highland Way Day Two: Into the Highlands!

New UNESCO World Heritage Sites for Ireland?

by Sean McLachlan on

The Republic of Ireland has a well-deserved reputation for beautiful landscapes and ancient monuments, so you might be surprised to learn that it has only two UNESCO World Heritage Sites. They are the Archaeological Ensemble of the Bend of the Boyne, which includes megalithic sites such as Newgrange that boast the world’s largest collection of prehistoric megalithic art, and Skellig Michael, a 7th century monastery on an isolated island.

Impressive sites, both of them, but surely the Emerald Isle has more to offer?

The Irish have decided to remedy this poor showing and have proposed seven sites or groups of sites for the UNESCO tentative list. Here’s a brief rundown:

The Burren: both a geological and a cultural landscape, The Burren on the west coast presents an imposing terrain of exposed limestone carved into weird shapes by the wind and rain. Nowadays it attracts hikers and other outdoorsy types, but in early times it attracted a succession of cultures that grazed their animals there and left more than 2,700 monuments. Still used by locals for their flocks, a large body of myth and folklore has grown up around this unique landscape.

The Historic City of Dublin: Ireland’s capital has a well-preserved historic center full of Georgian-era buildings. These eighteenth and early nineteenth century buildings are some of the finest of their type. Add to this generations of writers (Swift, Sheridan, Wilde, Stoker, Yeats, Beckett, etc.) and the fact that it’s the setting for James Joyce’s Ulysses, and you have one of the cultural capitals of the world. Dublin is full of atmospheric views, like the one caught here by user patrodz from Gadling’s flickr pool. You can even go on a literary pub crawl of Dublin.

The Céide Fields and North West Mayo Boglands: It’s strange to think that an entire Neolithic landscape, complete with boundary walls, farm fields, and monuments could survive intact for almost 6,000 years, but that’s exactly what’s happened here. Much of the landscape is buried under a thick layer of peat that preserves organic materials such as pollen, leather, wooden tools, even human bodies. It’s been the playground of archaeologists for generations, and every year new discoveries are made.

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Western Stone Forts: a network of Early Medieval (700-1000 AD) ringforts, circular stone walls that defended the homes of the petty rulers whose lands made up a patchwork of kingdoms on the island. These were dangerous times of constant raiding and brigandage, and regular folk made ringforts too. These Western Stone Forts are on a more grandiose scale than those of the commoners and are often better preserved, such as the impressive stone fort at Dún Aonghasa.

The Monastic City of Clonmacnoise and its Cultural Landscape: This monastic city in central Ireland has yet to be swallowed by the juggernaut of modern “development.” Founded in 545, it became a major center of arts and learning and a royal burial site. There are many churches and a castle still standing.

Early Medieval Monastic Sites: Ireland is famous for its early medieval monasteries that helped keep the lamp of learning lit after the fall of the Roman Empire. While books such as Cahill’s How the Irish Saved Civilization exaggerate the Irish role (the Byzantines and Arabs helped preserve and enhance Classical learning too) there’s no doubt that Irish monks were one of the bastions of culture during a low period in European history. Six monasteries have been chosen for the tentative list owing to their historical importance and degree of preservation.

The Royal Sites of Ireland: Ireland spent much of its medieval history as a group of small kingdoms whose borders constantly fluctuated due to the fortunes of war. The competing royal families gave rise to a rich body of literature and folklore. Five royal sites have been chosen for the tentative list. They are Cashel, Dún Ailinne, Hill of Uisneach, Rathcroghan Complex, and the Tara Complex. Each was a royal center for one of the great royal houses of medieval Ireland.

An impressive list. Here’s hoping UNESCO recognizes their global cultural value. There’s a downside to this, however, as was recently pointed out in the latest issue of Northern Earth magazine. which advised, “Go now–if they get listed, they will enter the tourism industry and become subject to inflation and packaging!”