Destination: Stirling & Side-Trips

It’s fun to tie recreational viewing to your travels. Here in Scotland, I’ve been watching everything from Highlander to Outlander. In Stirling, I re-watched Braveheart for the first time in two decades. And do you know something? It’s terrible. Mel Gibson’s much-assailed Scottish accent may very well be the most authentic thing about the film.

The town of Stirling has strong ties to the real William Wallace. From Stirling Castle, you can see Abbey Craig, the knob of land where Wallace and his troops surveyed the battlefield the night before they clashed with the English. Today it’s capped with a Romantic-era monument celebrating Wallace, filled with insightful exhibits that tell the real (non-Braveheart) version of events.

Looking out from the Wallace Monument, you can see the almost 360-degree bend in the River Forth, including a newer stone version of the original, wooden Stirling Bridge. In the Battle of Stirling Bridge, William Wallace and his ragtag Highlander forces hid out in the forest overlooking the bottleneck bridge until the perfect moment to ambush. Thanks to the tight quarters and the element of surprise, the Highlanders won an unlikely victory.

Watching Braveheart, you get an entirely different version of events: armies lining up across an open field, with blue-faced, kilted, berserker Highlanders charging at top speed toward heavily armored English troops. The filmmakers left out the bridge entirely, calling it simply “The Battle of Stirling.” Oh, and the blue facepaint? Never happened. A millennium before William Wallace, the ancient Romans did encounter fierce fighters in Caledonia (today’s Scotland) who painted their faces (the Picts). But painting faces in 1297 would be a bit like WWII soldiers suiting up in chain mail.

Braveheart takes many other liberties with history. William Wallace did not vengefully kill Andrew de Moray for deserting him at Falkirk (Moray fought valiantly by Wallace’s side at Stirling, and died from battle wounds). Robert the Bruce did not betray Wallace to the English. And William Wallace most certainly did not impregnate King Edward II’s French bride…who was 10 years old, not yet married to Edward, and still living in France at the time of Wallace’s death. (Entire websites are dedicated to outlining the many other inaccuracies in the film.)

Also, the modern notion of national “Freee-dooooom!” was essentially unknown during the divine-right Middle Ages. Wallace wasn’t fighting for “democracy” or “liberty”; he simply wanted to trade one authoritarian, aristocratic ruler (from London) for another authoritarian, aristocratic ruler (from Scotland).

Even the film’s title is a falsehood: No Scottish person ever referred to Wallace as “Braveheart,” which was actually the nickname of one of the film’s villains, Robert the Bruce. After his death, Robert’s heart was taken (in a small casket) on a crusade to the Holy Land by his friend Sir James Douglas. During one battle, Douglas threw the heart into an oncoming army and shouted, “Lead on, brave heart, I will follow thee!” Apparently, Mel Gibson must have heard this story and appropriated it. It’s a bit like if Stephen Spielberg, when making the film Lincoln, said, “I know that nobody actually called Abraham Lincoln ‘Old Hickory.’ But it sure has a nice ring to it…”

The Scottish people I talked to have mixed feelings about Braveheart. They appreciate the boost it gave to their underdog nation’s profile on the world stage — and to its tourist industry — juuuust enough that they’re willing to look the other way when it comes to the liberties the film takes.

I’m not saying to skip Braveheart, or other fact-based fictional movies. I’m just saying don’t assume that you really understand the history just because you’ve watched Mel Gibson’s Hollywood version of it. For an armchair historian, one of the joys of travel is going to places like Stirling and getting the real story.

For years, we’ve had great coverage of Scotland included in our Great Britain guidebook. But as I research our new, stand-alone Rick Steves Scotland guidebook, my priority is finding sights or towns that we’ve not had the space to fully develop until now. One of the most important additions is Stirling. This patriotic heart of Scotland is like Bunker Hill, Gettysburg, and the Alamo, all rolled into one.

Stirling perches on a volcanic crag overlooking Scotland’s most history-drenched plain: a flat expanse, cut through by the twisting River Forth and the meandering stream called Bannockburn, that divides the Lowlands from the Highlands. Many of the great Scottish victories (William Wallace at Stirling Bridge, Robert the Bruce at Bannockburn) — and defeats (William Wallace at Falkirk) — took place just outside of Stirling. And capping the ridge is Stirling’s formidable castle, the seat of the final kings of Scotland.

 

It’s said that “he who holds Stirling, holds Scotland.” And visiting Stirling Castle, you can literally see the layers of history. This castle was built up by a series of Stuart monarchs: Mary, Queen of Scots, and a gaggle of Jameses (for whom the “Jacobites” are named). Centuries later, the British Army further fortified the castle to defend against a Jacobite siege. On this gate, you can still (faintly) see the cannonball pockmarks from the time when Bonnie Prince Charlie — the Stuart heir — attacked his own ancestors’ home.

 

Stirling Castle fell into disrepair for centuries, and was only recently refurbished. Today the structure feels empty and soulless. But a handful of finely decorated rooms (perhaps a bit too perfect and colorful) are brought to life by the chatty docents who greet visitors and tell them more about castle lifestyles.

 

While almost nothing original survives at Stirling Castle, the exception is a highlight: this collection of the elaborately carved and painted portrait medallions that decorated the ceiling of the king’s presence chamber. Today they’re lovingly displayed and described in a modern museum that shows off that fine Renaissance craftsmanship.

 

Beyond its famous castle, Stirling is pretty sleepy. I was there on a summer weekend, and — aside from rowdy crowds inside a couple of industrial-strength chain pubs — the place was dead. Scotland has more engaging towns to spend the night in, but Stirling’s convenience for hitting a variety of great side-trips is second to none.

 

I checked out about a dozen B&Bs in Stirling, and chose my favorite six to recommend in our upcoming Scotland guidebook. With its central location and royal ties, Stirling just feels wealthy and put-together. The tidy residential zone behind the castle, with its postcard-perfect Victorian homes, is fun to simply wander.

 

In Scotland, anywhere there’s tourists, there’s a bagpiper. Yes, I know it’s a cliché, but I can’t resist a good street piper. This one seemed particularly sprightly — he seemed to get a genuine kick out of interacting with tourists (not just posing for them).