This examination of ten battles fought in Scotland in the 17th and 18th centuries is both evocative and enlightening, writes Allan Massie

There are sedentary historians and walking historians, Edward Gibbon being an example of the first sort, Thomas Babington Macaulay of the second. Most military historians belong to the walking fraternity. How can you describe a battle if you haven’t covered the ground? Evidently there are difficulties. Landscapes change even in thinly populated country, so it isn’t easy. Even when you have read contemporary or near-contemporary accounts of a battle or campaign, you need a sympathetic imagination. You also need good maps, good walking boots and imagination. Happily Alistair Moffat has all these things.

His new book offers an examination and reconstruction of ten 17th and 18th century battles. Most of these took place in the Highlands, only two – Prestonpans and Falkirk – in the Lowlands. The first of these, the scattering of the Hanoverian Army commanded ineptly by General Cope, is still, I think, well remembered, if only on account of the derisive Jaobite song “Hey, Johnnie Cope, are you waukin’ yet?” Others, notably the bloody clan battle of Mulroy in August 1688, are at best little known. Clan battles were celebrated by contemporary Gaelic poets, exultant or melancholy. Their relish for bloodshed might not go down well at poetry readings today, but then the Past is another country.

Moffat, from the eastern Borders where, probably, no Gaelic was ever spoken, has learned the language and has a delight in Gaelic culture. I confess to a difficulty. The English version of even the most highly praised Gaelic poetry mostly seems to me sadly flat. One has to take those who read Gaelic poets and praise their work highly at their word.

The most compelling accounts are Moffat’s reconstruction of some of Montrose’s battles as the Royalist commander in the great Civil War of 1642-6. Many readers are likely to know quite a lot about this. It has fascinated me since I read John Buchan’s biography of Montrose when I was 14. Buchan thought Montrose one of the greatest of Scottish generals. In Gaelic memory and legend he is however overshadowed by Alastair MacDonald, who led the Highland clansmen in his army. Moffat does justice to both men; his account of the snow march and the fearsome invasion of Campbell country in February 1645 is wonderfully gripping. Somewhat surprisingly, he ignores Auldearn, which Buchan thought Montrose’s masterpiece, and Kilsyth, which briefly made Montrose master of Scotland.

There is a brilliant account of the puzzling Battle of Sheriffmuir in November 1715. I have never previously understood how the Jacobites, with for once a considerable numerical advantage, failed to win it, even though I was aware of the incompetence of their commander, the Earl of Mar, a man with a ridiculously high opinion of himself. Moffat’s careful examination of the terrain makes what was in effect a drawn battle comprehensible: a drawn battle, but a strategic defeat for the Stuart cause. Incidentally, I am sorry to find Moffat writing of Jacobite Rebellions rather than Risings. This is, I suppose, a sentimental opinion of mine.

The account of Culloden is masterly. It presages the destruction of age-old Highland Society. “The land emptied and fell silent, a working landscape degenerating into mere scenery. The language that described it became a distant echo.” Might things have been different if Charles Edward had never raised the Standard in Glenfinnan? Moffat writes that the Prince did not deserve the loyalty of the clans. I suppose this is true. Near the end of his life George Keith, the exiled hereditary Earl-Marischal of Scotland, regretted having wasted his life in the service of “that beastly family”. Nevertheless, as late as the last years of the 19th century, Lord Rosebery, briefly Liberal Prime Minster, could say that every Scot was at least half a Jacobite at heart; and I suppose this remains partly true. This book suggests that Alistair Moffat is, in this respect, in the same boat as Rosebery.

This is a splendid book, evocative, and enlightening, Study it and take it with you if you set out to explore these scenes of long-ago battles; or, with its help, content yourself with reliving them in your imagination.

War Paths, by Alistair Moffat, Birlinn, 304pp, £18.99

Book review: War Paths, by Alistair Moffat