You see, we are heading up to central Scotland and the Highlands tomorrow, and I wanted to give them a primer to Scottish history before we found ourselves wandering around Stirling Castle, trooping over Bannockburn, or climbing the Wallace Monument.
I’m just kidding — the real reason we watched Braveheart was for Mel Gibson’s rugged charisma, his raw masculinity, long untamed hair, and the scene where the Scottish rebels moon the English army.
Everyone knows Braveheart is riddled with historical inaccuracies, but you can’t deny it — it’s a lot of fun.
Released in 1995, it is a sweeping historical war drama directed and produced by Mel Gibson, who, despite being Australian-American, also acts as the film’s protagonist, the Scottish warrior William Wallace. Set in the late 13th century, the film chronicles Wallace’s leadership of the Scottish rebellion during the First War of Scottish Independence against King Edward I of England.
I grew up without a TV, and as such, my pop culture and film knowledge to this day is somewhat flimsy. This was something I deeply fretted about as a child — I distinctly remember being bullied in primary school for not knowing who the Pussycat Dolls were — and I was rather embarrassed by my family’s Luddite tendencies.
There was, however, a small rotation of films we watched every time we went on holiday, usually to a friend’s crib, where invariably there would be a boxy, bulky television. Mary Poppins, The Sound of Music, The Lord of the Rings, Labyrinth, and Braveheart.
These were the films of my childhood. And so, alongside my father’s rose-tinted recollections of a childhood in snowy Glasgow, and Tales of a Grandfather: A History of Scotland by Sir Walter Scott, Braveheart was instrumental to the formation of my childhood understanding of Scotland and her history.
Although the film has come to dominate popular understanding of Scottish history and identity, it’s far from historically accurate. The narrative actually draws inspiration from The Actes and Deidis of the Illustre and Vallyeant Campioun Schir William Wallace, a 15th-century epic poem by a fellow called "Blind Harry".
Whether this Harry character even was blind isn’t actually known, so I’m not wholly inclined to trust every word he wrote, especially given the fact he lived about 100 years after Wallace was terrorising the English.
The film’s title itself is something of a misnomer. The "real" Braveheart was not actually William Wallace, but rather Robert the Bruce (who also didn’t betray Wallace). After Robert the Bruce’s death, his friend James Douglas carried the King’s heart on a crusade to fulfil his dying wish.
While fighting in southern Spain, Douglas and his men were surrounded. Legend says he threw the casket with Bruce’s heart towards the enemy, shouting, "Onwards Braveheart, Douglas shall follow thee or die!" (or something equally melodramatic). The heart was later recovered and is supposedly buried at Melrose Abbey (I’ve seen the headstone).
Then there’s the fact that Wallace’s noble origins are totally downplayed in the film. In Braveheart, William Wallace is but a humble, brave, Highland peasant farmer, with a straw-roofed home, rough burlap clothing, and a dirt-smeared (albeit striking) face. In reality, however, Wallace hailed from a noble Lowland family; his father was a knight, and William himself likely received an excellent education and military training.
Also, Wallace wasn’t orphaned as a child. His father, Sir Malcolm, died in 1291 after years of conflict with the English, when William was already an adult and active in the rebellion.
Then there’s the concept of "jus primae noctis", (also known as the "right of the first night"), a supposed medieval legal right that allowed a lord to sleep with a vassal’s bride on her wedding night. While this law makes for excellent tension within the filmic environment of Braveheart, most historians view it as a fictional concept rather than a genuine legal or cultural practice in medieval Europe.
Festival season has just finished in Edinburgh, so the preponderance of William Wallace cos-players on the Royal Mile has dwindled somewhat. But trust me, if you venture up that ancient old street on a Saturday, you are bound to encounter at least one hairy swarthy (possibly faux) Scotsman, bedecked in a glorious kilt, fierce blue face paint, and long matted hair.
Quite possibly, he’ll be wielding a (hopefully blunt) claymore. Almost certainly, he’ll be charging tourists at least a couple of quid for the opportunity of taking a selfie with the Scottish legend, William Wallace.
But the kilts and face paint worn by these Wallace-wannabes aren’t all that accurate. The blue paint dates back to the 4th and 5th centuries, when ancient tribes like the Picts used it against the Romans, but it was long out of use by Wallace’s time. Similarly, the belted plaid kilts worn in the movie didn’t exist until centuries later. Wallace and his men also wouldn’t have had elaborate hairstyles or rustic accessories, as charming as their mullets are in Braveheart.
Even the English soldiers’ matching uniforms are a historical inaccuracy, as soldiers of the time wore a mix of whatever they could afford.
And don’t even get me started on the battles. Consider the film’s portrayal of the Battle of Stirling Bridge — it’s all very exciting, but there’s no actual bridge! In reality, Wallace’s victory came from trapping the English as they crossed a narrow bridge — it was a key part of his strategy.
Braveheart also omits Andrew de Moray, the co-leader and true mastermind behind the plan, who was wounded in the battle and died shortly after.
There’s also the problem of the Irish mutiny at the Battle of Falkirk (didn’t happen) and Wallace’s love affair with Princess Isabella (also didn’t happen).
Wallace’s death (spoiler alert) is fairly accurate however. While he was hanged and disembowelled in the film, in reality, Wallace was also drawn, quartered, and castrated. To add insult to injury, the four quarters of his dismembered body were then sent off to be displayed in Newcastle, Berwick, Perth and Stirling.
But I’ll always have a bit of a soft spot for Braveheart. It was a mainstay of my childhood, and the rousing speeches and themes of freedom and rebellion still stir feelings within my breast.
Released as it was in the mid-1990s, the film certainly played a significant role in fueling Scottish nationalism during a period of growing national consciousness, leading up to the 1997 devolution referendum.
I first arrived in Scotland in the middle of the 2014 Scottish independence referendum, and let me tell you, Gibson’s William Wallace was very much a symbol of the "Yes" vote (and equally destined for failure).
Every historical epic is flawed and inaccurate to some degree; film-makers must be allowed some degree of artistic licence to enhance a story’s impact. Braveheart certainly helped to revitalise interest in Scotland’s history and its symbols, albeit a more romanticised vision than the more gritty and complicated reality.
The question remains however: has Braveheart done more to help or harm our understanding of Scottish history and identity? I’ll leave it to you to decide.
— Jean Balchin is an ODT columnist who has started a new life in Edinburgh.
