The Accidental Discovery of the Middle World

Abstract

On Culloden Moor, a windswept, unsheltered spot east of Inverness just off the road to Nairn and Elgin, there is a collection of gravestones. They are old, lichen-covered, unremarkable. Though each stone features only a single name — some hardly decipherable, worn away by a hundred years of Scottish weather — each one marks the resting place of a large number of men. These are mass graves.