What if:

Somerled, the Lord of the Isles, had been triumphant?

     In 1164 the great Somerled, Lord of the Isles, rose up in open rebellion against King Malcolm IV of Scotland. Somerled sailed up the River Clyde with a fleet of 160 galleys and 15,000 warriors. At Renfrew he was met in battle by the troops of King Malcolm IV, led by his steward, Walter Fitzalan, progenitor of the future Stewart kings. Somerled was slain in this battle, along with one of his sons. Some say he was killed by treachery at the hands of his nephew. One or two have made the insulting claim that Somerled was cut down while trying to flee towards his ship. However, most historians agree, based on various sources from that time, that he was killed in battle by the troops of the King, and that his head was cut off and held up high on display.

    What if the battle had turned out differently and Somerled had been successful in his rebellion? Let’s take a step back in time and have a little peek at what could have happened.

     On the Isle of Islay, we find Somerled holding a meeting with his council of 16 men, at a little place called Eilean na Comhairle (Council Island) near the banks of Loch Finlaggan. King Malcolm IV, aka “The Maiden,” has been encouraging Saxon and Norman settlement in Scotland, who are displacing the native Gaels. It was bad enough when, in 1157, Malcolm ceded Northumbria to King Henry II of England, in exchange for the pittance of the Earldom of Huntington. Now, in the year 1163, the “Maiden” has paid homage to Henry II. This was a situation that needed to be changed, and quickly, before the Gaelic way of life was completely eradicated by the weak-willed boy-king of Scotland.

    Into the centre of the council of 16 men strides a tall figure of strong, shapely form, an aura of command surrounds his powerful presence.  The cacophony of curious voices comes to a sudden halt and an air of expectation fills the little council hall.

    “Men,” says Somerled in a rich, deep voice, “I have called you here for a matter of great importance, the future of the Isles and Scotland. “

    The small hall fills with the sounds of low, questioning murmurs, as the 16 men look at their esteemed leader, waiting for the words they had always dreaded hearing, but knew would one day be inevitable.

    The voice of Somerled now rings out louder through the hall as he fills the hearts of his men with the call for battle.

    ” That young weak-kneed boy who now sits the throne of Scotland is selling away our birthrights to the Saxon and Norman lords. Our way of life is changing and being eroded away little by little with every day that passes. Our children are learning to speak the language of the Saxon and forgetting the words of their ancestors. Malcolm the Maiden is turning us into vassals of that greedy king of England, Henry II Plantagenet.”

    The low murmur of the council members becomes a rumble of ascent. Their leader speaks truth that can no longer be denied. The winds of change have been coming since the time of King David I, and now they were starting to blow at gale force. It was time for action.

    Somerled concludes his speech with the question the council has been anticipating and hoping for.

    “I ask you, my honoured council, do we hide and cower like dogs while the Saxon and Norman over-runs our land? No? Then what shall we do? Do we fight for our birthright? Is that a small murmur of agreement I hear?” asks Somerled. Then, in a loud, booming voice he continues, “ I ask again…do we FIGHT for our birthright and for the freedom of the Isles and Scotland? Do we take back what is ours and send the usurpers and that weak, mewling boy-king running for the shores of France? A Gael I was born and a Gael I will DIE!”

    The tiny hall erupts into loud, resounding cries of, “Aye, we will fight for what is ours. We will fight for the Isles and Scotland. We will fight with Somerled, and if need be we will die with Somerled!”

    “Then send out the word throughout the Highlands and the Islands,” commands Somerled, “for it’s a war we’ll be having, and a mighty one it shall be. I’m sure my battle loving cousins in Ireland and Norway will be quick to join us in the fray.”

    The next months are busy ones while the fierce Lochlann axes are sharpened, battered chain mail is mended, targes repaired and ahketons re-padded. Most important of all was the preparation of Somerled’s pride and joy, his large navy of Birlinns, (which he renamed Nyvaig (little ships)), those swift fighting galleys that resembled the famed Viking longship. But these galleys were far superior to the longship of yore. Somerled had devised a new design that soon became the favoured standard for Scottish warships. First, he raised the stern and built a fighting platform on the masthead, giving us the forerunner of the crow’s nest. This allowed Somerled’s men to rain down attacks from above on their unsuspecting foes. Somerled also changed the position of the steering oar, which on a longship was located on the right rear gunwale. Instead, Somerled moved the steering oar to the back of the ship, positioned in the center. This became our modern day rudder. This gave his ships better maneuvrability and speed.

    These men of the Scottish Highlands and Islands were also a superstitious lot so it is a good bet that they also made sure to have had special neck rings made of iron to protect against the ever-lurking Boabhan Sith, “The White Women,” who were evil, blood-thirsty female vampires waiting to pounce on unwary travellers, men in particular. It is said that these ghost-like creatures would assume the shape of beautiful women, invite men to dance with them and then suck their life’s blood until the man perished.

    So the preparations carried on, while word was sent to Somerled’s allies. Eventually a fine and fierce army was gathered of Dublin Vikings, Irish Mercenaries, warriors of the Isles and Highlands, and a contingent of Vikings from Norway. If ever there was a fierce foe to face this was it and King Malcolm would not have been sitting easily on his throne.

    In 1164 the day of reckoning arrives and Somerled sails up the River Clyde with his fleet of over 160 warships and 15,000 battle ready warriors. Word spreads quickly to the ears of King Malcolm, who dispatches his troops under the command of FitzAlan. Somerled’s army disembarks and makes the trek to Renfrew on foot, where they set up camp. Exactly when the battle ensued is open for debate, but ensue it did. The two armies meet and the loud clash and clamour of sword, axe and armour echoes throughout the battlefield. The green glen becomes sullied with the sweat, blood and grime of fierce men fighting with every ounce of strength and resolve they can muster. Bodies lie strewn about under foot as the battle continues to rage. But today Somerled’s body will not be among the dead. He sees the blood christened sword that is aiming to fell him and reacts swiftly and decisively, thrusting with deadly force into this foe that mistakenly thought he would be walking away from this battle with Somerled’s head as his trophy. Not today though, not any day, for now Walter FitzAlan himself lies dead on the ground at the mighty Somerled’s feet, and it is his head that will be the trophy swinging on high from the mast of Somerled’s ship. FitzAlan’s troops see their dead leader and, losing heart, lay down their weapons and surrender. There is no sense in fighting any longer. They are outnumbered, their commander is dead and Somerled has come out victorious.

    Even as Somerled’s battle-weary warriors are making camp for the night word spreads throughout the Highlands and Lowlands of this great, and truthfully unexpected, victory. The people of Scotland, who do not wish to be Anglicised or Normanised, feel a ray of hope and men in the villages, towns and cities gather weapons of all descriptions, prepared now to join Somerled in freeing Scotland from the machinations of King Malcolm “The Maiden” and his greedy advisors. Eventually Somerled gathers a contingent that is unstoppable. Further alliances are formed with the Welsh, who wish to regain their own lands; the Northumbrians rise up against King Henry II of England, demanding to be ceded back to the Scottish nation. The French decide to capitulate and strike a bargain with Somerled, military assistance to conquer England in exchange for the lands of Normandy, Maine, Anjou and Aquitaine. King Malcolm, who has been hiding in one of the many castles of King Henry II, has become a serious liability, and is forced to leave England for the safety of Spain. Unfortunately for King Malcolm he and his little band of courtiers are stopped on the road to the docks and his identity is recognised, at which time he is taken prisoner, turned over to Somerled, tried, and executed for crimes against the Scottish people. Somerled would have preferred to keep him alive, but in these times to do so would only invite trouble from those factions still loyal to Malcolm.

    Meanwhile, in England, King Henry is feeling a bit harassed. His own troops have been decimated by the combined efforts of the Welsh, Northumbrians and French. His kingdom is toppling around him, yet he still makes a last valiant effort to retain that which will inevitably be lost to him forever. Let it never be said that King Henry II was a coward. Orders are sent out to have the royal troops gathered and prepared for battle. King Henry himself will lead this final attempt at repelling the forces of Somerled. This is a challenge that Somerled cannot ignore and he gives the command for his own band of warriors to follow him to England. The forces of both sides meet at Berwick and the battle is a surprisingly fierce one, but as all battles do it must finally come to an end, which it does when King Henry is ingloriously felled by a mere pikesman. England is now a vassal country to Scotland and it is time to put away weapons and crown a new king.

    So, shall Somerled now sit the throne of Scotland, England and the Isles? Or shall it be one of his sons? Well, neither, of course! Somerled cares nothing for the headaches of ruling such an unruly and quarrelsome bunch of people, no matter how big-hearted they are. For him, this was not a war about seizing power; it was about freedom and preserving the Gaelic way of life. No, Somerled will not rule, but he already has a new king in mind, William FitzWilliam, the “Boy of Egremont,” son of William FitzDuncan and grandson of King Duncan II of Scotland. What better choice could there be? A descendant of the royal and noble houses of Scotland, Norway, Northumbria and Sweden, and the great-great-great grandson of Crinan the Thane, Mormaer of Moray and Secular Hereditary Abbot of Dunkeld. William of Egremont would become king and through him would descend a great line of kings who would above all else retain and encourage the Gaelic-Norse culture of Scotland and the Western Isles. Men like William Wallace would grow old and die in their beds, tragedies like Culloden and Glen Coe would have never happened and the pain and indignity of the Clearances would have been avoided. The eerie, mournful sound of the bagpipes would never have been silenced and the clan tartans not outlawed.  Maybe even that troublesome old warrior, Somerled, would have lived to a ripe old age and died peacefully in his bed.

© Cindy Nunn 2003

Wee Drams  - E-mails, comments, queries and enlightenment from around the world.

Page  2:       A History of the Gilchrists...............continued

Page  3:       A 'What if?' Tale from Cindy Nunn

Page  4:       Ian & Helen's Scottish Trip - May 2003

Page  6:       The Editorial from Number 50 - Autumn 2001

Page 7:        By Hill and Shore - Angus Martin

Page 8:        Mesolithic Flints at Rosehill Farm