Clanlands

by Sam Heughan

  To be in that marketplace in 879, or 50 AD, or 1599 would be jaw-dropping now but I think many things would seem familiar, too. The facial expressions of a Roman citizen, the laughter of an Elizabethan audience; the things that gave them joy, and pain. To know that our very existence depends on an unbroken line of our ancestors literally stretching back 100,000 years or more is truly awe-inspiring. To think that if one could travel back in time I could encounter a ginger-haired ancestor of Sam’s, sporting that exact same grin, wearing the fourteenth-century equivalent of Gore-Tex, is a troubling thought indeed.

  SAM

  We zone back into what Cameron is saying. ‘We don’t fully know what the standing stones were for, but it’s thought they were burial tombs and the standing stones were for some sort of astronomy. When the mid-winter sun sets on 21st December (a celebration of the Winter Solstice in the pagan calendar known as Yule) the sun will shine right up the corridor of outer cairns and light up the interior chamber. It’s extraordinary.’

  There are about fifty similar cairns in the area and we can only really guess what they meant to the people who built them. How these stones got here and how they lined them up so precisely is beyond comprehension. ‘Later on, the Celtic people living here would have used the stones and burial chamber for their own purposes and would have prayed here. They worshipped the creator goddess of the Celtic world, Cailleach, at Beltane, spring equinox, praying for good crops, and at Samhain (our Halloween), praying for a mild winter.’

  My birthday is the day before Beltane on 30th April and I’m a typical Taurus – ‘Smart, ambitious, and trustworthy . . . we make amazing friends, colleagues, and partners . . . and personal relationships tend to be drama free.’ (Source: Horoscope.com) Also stubborn and loves good food/drink.

  Graham’s a Capricorn (4th January) and is, ‘charming, hard-working with an adaptable personality. Highly adaptable for acting, not so much when faced with camper van, tents, heights, hunger, discomfort, cold water and kayaks . . .’ (Source: Heughan.com!)

  Given astrology has been around for over 2,400 years and the ancients who built Clava Cairns would have had a great knowledge of the sun, moon and their horoscopes, let’s take a wild diversion and see how compatible Graham and I are as friends . . .

  I shall consult the modern Oracle: ‘Siri, how compatible are Taurus and Capricorn as friends?’

  Taurus and Capricorn make fast friends, revelling in each other’s dependability. Taurus can count on Capricorn to show up on time to every meeting. Capricorn knows Taurus will pay back a loan or return borrowed items. Taurus encourages the predictable Goat to take a few risks [Sam: ha ha!]. Best of all, both these signs share a profound appreciation for the great outdoors. Hanging out in forests, gardens, and parks is lots of fun for these nature lovers. Each delights in the other’s sense of humour. When times get tough, they make each other laugh. These two have got each other’s backs. (Horoscope.com)

  Sam: Ahhh.

  Graham: It’s true.

  In the pagan calendar Beltane marked the end of winter and coming of summer and I remember growing up watching the celebrations of the whirling white witches, painted faces and deer-antlered druids, spinning around the large bonfire on top of Carlton Hill in Edinburgh on the eve of the spring equinox. It felt tribal and primeval. The drums would beat faster and faster and the hair would rise on the back of my neck. My eighteenth birthday felt extra special as my friends insisted we told every White Witch and celestial Virgin I was now ‘a Man’. The next day, 1st May, marks the beginning of spring and Jamie Fraser’s birthday. I’m one inch shorter and one day off his birthday – ties in pretty neatly, doesn’t it?

  Cameron says, ‘Sam, on your next Beltane birthday you must wash your face in the morning dew, watch the sunrise and dream of your future wife.’

  I promise him I will. Cameron has a wonderful, enduring marriage to Gina, two grown-up sons, several grandchildren and, of course, the mountains – a constant presence, his sanctuary and retreat. He is an inspiration to me, and many besides; his inner contentment and sense of belonging are what every restless actor craves.

  In Outlander, the night Claire watches the druids dancing around the stones occurred on Beltane in the original book; however, in the TV show it’s filmed as Samhain (Halloween) due to the fact we were shooting in the autumn. Strangely, Samhain – Gaelic for ‘summer’s end’ – is possibly more appropriate as it’s the time when the veil between life and death is at its most transparent and when pagans honour and connect with their ancestors.

  ‘Mid-winter was a terrifying time for these people so they would pray to Cailleach for a mild winter,’ says Cameron. ‘It was cold, with snow, not much light, no growth. They didn’t know if they’d survive until next spring so it was important for them to have an understanding of nature and of the seasons. We’ve lost a great deal of that knowledge of and reverence for nature.’

  Cameron is right, we have. He is passionate about keeping the connection to the land of Scotland alive. He asks:

  ‘When was the last time you washed your face in the dew? When was the last time you had a skinny dip in a Highland burn? When was the last time you lay on a hillside and watched the stars revolving above?’

  Take a moment to ask yourself the same questions.

  ‘It’s about allowing nature to touch you in a real way and you can’t do that driving through the Highlands in a car,’ he says. However, you can do it by walking, climbing, running, kayaking, long-distance cycling, anything where you can smell the country as you pass through it. ‘And, at a speed you can appreciate the small print of the land,’ adds Cameron.

  Graham has impressively cycled the Outer Hebrides to Cape Wrath, Mull, Aran, Kintyre and he suggests we do the North Coast 500 together, along an old drovers’ route across the Applecross peninsula. I can’t wait because the real joy of Scotland is that around every corner is a folktale, legend or landmark that leads us to know a little more of our heritage and in turn gives a greater understanding of who we are now.

  The rhythm and deep connection to the land and the knowledge of the seasons that our ‘primitive’ forebears had gave them ‘a sense of belonging’. In Gaelic it’s called ‘dualchas’, which conjures not only the landscape but also past generations. The Scots people were in contact with their ancestors (in battle they’d conjure their relatives to fight alongside them) and it’s a word I learnt on Outlander. It struck me so much, I even got the words engraved on my sword:

  Alba n’dualchas: Belonging to Scotland.

  The landmarks, stories and mystery of Scotland make the past ever present and Clava Cairns is a monument to our ancestors as well as a stark reminder of our impermanence.

  GRAHAM

  The pagan world (at least the fictional one) came to life for me whilst filming The Wicker Tree in 2010 for Robin Hardy. I had been a huge fan of his 1970s cult horror classic, The Wicker Man. Christopher Lee, who plays Lord Summerisle in the movie, regarded it as his greatest film (and this is a man who had made well over a hundred movies, in multiple languages). I had the great pleasure of meeting him. A true renaissance man, he spoke many languages fluently and I remember at dinner, when the waitress came to take the order and he realised she was Lithuanian, he immediately began talking to her in her language. It was fabulous.

  The movie The Wicker Man tells the story of a policeman, Edward Woodward, sent to a remote Scottish island to investigate the disappearance of a young girl. Suffice to say it doesn’t go well for him. He has essentially been lured as a virgin sacrifice for the pagan beliefs of the islanders. The climax of the movie is the burning of the policeman inside a giant wicker man. It is one of the most disturbing scenes in cinema. The genius of Hardy’s approach was to defy all horror movie tropes and signals. The music is uplifting, cheerful. Christopher Lee is an urbane, charming character in the movie. The islanders are friendly and it is shot almost entirely in warm daylight. There are no jump-frights, just a sustained sense of creeping dread, which is
what makes it truly terrifying.

  When I got the chance to be in the sequel, The Wicker Tree, I jumped at it. It was over thirty years later but had been written by Robin Hardy again (who also directed it), based on his book Cowboys for Christ (a much better title in my opinion). Robin was eighty when he made it, but apart from a daily nap at lunchtime (much like Heughan), he had boundless energy. In this story two evangelical Christians are persuaded to visit the small Scottish community where my wife and I run the show. I play Christopher Lee’s grandson, and I definitely inherited his taste for the macabre. In this film a similar style was invoked (friendly villagers, innocent victims, paganism). It culminates in the pursuit of the evangelical young man and then him being eaten alive. The girl’s fate is to be killed, then stuffed as a trophy, along with all the other May Queens from years before. It was a good movie, but let down by the producers who, against Robin’s wishes, overlaid a classic ‘horror’ score. Big mistake. It broke Robin’s heart.

  I had a thoroughly good time making it, though, getting the chance to play with dear old Clive Russell who went on to play Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat, in Outlander. Jamie Fraser’s grandad. We shot it in the Borders of Scotland one summer and it remains one of my happiest experiences. I even got to sing in it . . . which may not have been a happy experience for others!

  Sam: What will the sequel be called? The Wicker Basket?

  Graham: Groan.

  Actually, several famous white witches have made a home in the Highlands, including infamous occultist Aleister Crowley who lived at Boleskine House on Loch Ness 1899–1913. According to Homes & Properties magazine (a monthly favourite of mine):

  ‘He believed the location was ideal to perform the Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage – a spell said to invoke one’s Guardian Angel. Unfortunately the spell also involved summoning the 12 Kings and Dukes of Hell. While performing the lengthy ritual, he was called away to Paris. Neglecting to banish the demons he had summoned, it’s said they’ve been loitering around the manor ever since.’

  From 1970–1992 Boleskine House was owned by Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin, who had a deep interest in neo-paganism. (I had a deep interest in Led Zeppelin.) Sadly, Boleskine burned down in 2015, but the ruins are up for sale!

  Tempted, Sam?

  Sam: I’ve been on the lookout to find a home in the Highlands for years but I think the bit about Page’s caretaker being woken by a ‘snorting beast of pure evil’ makes it a ‘no’ from me. There’s an actor from Game of Thrones who has got a home on an island in a loch. I’ve always quite fancied living by a loch or, even better, on an island.

  I know the exact house on the exact island Sam means because when I was in Take the Highroad back in the 1980s (a massively popular soap) the main producer lived there with a teddy bear he used to talk to and take everywhere. ‘Teddy did you like that take?’

  Then he’d do Teddy’s voice, ‘No! Do it again.’

  ‘Teddy wants you to do that take again, Graham.’

  He was insane.

  A bit like my love-interest on Outlander, Geillis Duncan, a fervent neo-Jacobite who kills off her husbands (one with poison, the other burned alive), travelling back and forth through the stones until she settles in Jamaica where she seduces and sacrifices virgin boys. A real keeper.

  Played by Lotte Verbeek, a wonderful Dutch actress, her character Geillis becomes pregnant by me (presumably by immaculate conception), and goes on to have my bastard son, the descendant of whom he attempts to hang in Season Five of Outlander (such are the massively complicated plots and timelines of Outlander). I only had one scene with Lotte, where I look at her lasciviously across a crowded room as her poor husband (played by John Sessions) chokes to death in front of her. Perhaps my look alone was enough to impregnate her . . . When I signed the contract for Outlander it included a nudity clause. In signing it I agreed to perform scenes of nudity. For me, rather than seeing it as allowing for the possibility of nudity, I took it as a promise of nudity. (Ever since my days of theatrical nudity I’ve clearly been itching to get my kit off. Maybe itching isn’t the sexiest of words. Dying. Nope. Yearning. I’ve been yearning to rip it all off.) As it turned out I didn’t even get a peck on the cheek.

  In the meantime, Sir Ginger of the Nuts barely went a day without dropping his pants on set. However, given the nature of his climactic scenes with ‘Black Jack’ Randall, on the whole I’m glad I kept my trousers on.

  I was naked on stage in 1999 performing The School of Night at Chichester Festival Theatre directed by the actor Jack Shepherd. Cut to my parents coming to see the show. I’d briefed them on the nudity but apparently nothing can fully prepare a Glaswegian father seeing his own grown-up son starkers in front of 500 strangers. After the show I met them in the bar. ‘You were wonderful, Graham,’ gushed my staunchly supportive mother. My father looked at me and merely said, ‘There was no need for that, Graham.’

  (Incidentally I overheard the outrageously gay landlord of the local pub in Chichester recommending customers the seats where they could get the best view of my ‘exposed areas’ – charming!) [Sam: The horror.]

  In Dangerous Liaisons I had to do a scene under the bedclothes with a wonderful young Scottish actress, Gail Watson, who had announced in the read-through that she would do the bed scene nude (not in the script), which I forgot all about until the technical rehearsal. Needless to say I spent the rest of the run apologising for the ‘reaction’ of a specific body part to this moment. All my lines went out of my head and I felt like some kind of depraved pervert. [Sam: You are!] [Graham: Says the Marquis de Sade himself.] God knows what my dad would have said to that!

  Sadly, or fortunately, depending on one’s viewpoint, by the time I was getting stabbed to death by Sam and Cait I had come to realise I wouldn’t even get so much as a warm cuddle in Outlander. And my dad would probably have been grateful.

  Geillis, along with Claire (now Fraser, having married Jamie . . . as well) are accused of witchcraft. Scotland proved to be an especially enthusiastic prosecutor of witches. From 1563–1735 a little under 4,000 ‘witches’ were brought to trial, of which it is estimated that around two-thirds were executed. This is four to five times more than in England. In 1563 the first Witchcraft Act basically allowed the hunting, torturing and execution of witches on a grand scale. It ended with the second Witchcraft Act of 1735. In between, Scotland had 170 years of government-sanctioned witch-hunting and killing. For a state with a religious point to make, prosecuting witches was an excellent way to prove its godliness. Some interesting statistics emerge. Half the victims were under forty years old, most were middle-class, and only 4% practised ‘folk’ medicine. 15% were men.

  Janet Horne was the last person to be executed in Scotland and, indeed, in the whole British Isles. Janet, who showed signs of senility, and her daughter, who suffered from deformities in her hands and feet, were turned in to the authorities by their neighbours. One can only imagine what her neighbours were like. They accused Janet of riding her daughter to the Devil to have her shod like a pony. Seems reasonable. The authorities certainly thought so. Needless to say this was quite enough to find them both guilty of witchcraft, and sentenced to be burned at the stake. The daughter managed to escape (a particularly impressive feat with deformed hands and feet I’d say!), but her poor mother was stripped, tarred, paraded through the town, and then burnt alive. Religion doesn’t muck about with witches. It brings new meaning to the term ‘Neighbourhood Watch’. The witchstone, found in the private garden of a house in Carnaig Street in Dornoch, Sutherland, marks the spot of her execution.

  And the same hysteria surrounding witchcraft was going on simultaneously in France (in Season Two, Claire is feared as La Dame Blanche – The White Woman) and over the pond in Massachusetts, USA, the famous Salem witch trials took place in 1692, later inspiring Arthur Miller’s masterpiece The Crucible (1953) based on the McCarthy witch-hunts over 250 years later. Witch-hunts never go away. Just like a pandemic, we’re sort of due on
e . . .

  Geillis actually saves Claire at the witch trial (with some help from her ginger friend) but Dougal believes Claire to be a witch (he’s had doubts about her all along), probably because she so stoutly resisted his sexual advances . . . by breaking a wooden stool over my head.

  Claire: ‘Stop trying to convince people of your patriotism. It’s tedious. I’m not sure you’ll grasp the meaning of this, but fuck yourself.’

  Dougal: ‘All right then. Perhaps you’re right about me. I do love my own reflection. But make no mistake, lass. I love Scotland more.’

  But Dougal loves a strong woman; we never meet his actual wife but I suspect she has a fearsome left hook. And like all femme fatales Claire finishes me off in the end. Well, her and Heughan (bastard). I think he’s still trying to kill me on this road trip.

  Sam’s grinning at me now. He’s plotting something . . .

  Sam: I’m not. But two more busloads of tourists have pulled up with passengers eager to try their luck at time travel by touching the stones.

  Time to vanish.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Castle Leod

  Bless a’ the Mackenzies an’ a’ the Mackenzie childer; their sons an’ son’s childer and their dochters for a thousan’ years to come.

  Be Ye gracious an’ send doon mountains o’ snuff, an rivers of whisky.

  An’ oh Lord send doon swords an’ pistels an’ daggers as monie as the sands on the seashore to kill the MacDonalds, the Clan Ranalds, and the Campbells.