Dunnottar Castle

Situated on a rocky outcrop on the north east coast of Scotland, a few miles south from the town of Stonehaven, is Dunnottar Castle. Surrounded on three sides by steep cliffs to the North Sea and only accessible via a narrow strip of land, it is clear from the first glance that the castle holds an impressive defensive position. It is for this reason a castle has stood on the rock for over 1300 years. The castle is one of the most visually impressive in the country.



Originally a wooden Pictish fort which is long gone, the earliest part of the stone castle which remains today is the church, built during the 13^th century. The castle has been destroyed and rebuilt several times over history in battles to control it. The final battle at the castle took place in 1651 when Oliver Cromwell’s army attacked it. Cromwell had earlier executed King Charles 1, king of both England and Scotland, and upon hearing that Charles’ young son had arrived in Scotland and was journeying south to claim the crowns, Cromwell led an invasion on Scotland. Charles II was hastily crowned at Scone Palace near Perth. The Scottish crown jewels should have been returned to Edinburgh following the event, but Cromwell’s forces had already taken Edinburgh, and so they were sent north to Dunnottar. Cromwell’s army attacked the castle for eight months, but an army of just seventy Scots held it. Eventually Cromwell brought heavy guns to the battle, and after being shelled by the canons for ten days, the castle was surrendered. By that time the crown jewels had been successfully smuggled out of the castle and so Cromwell failed in his attempts to take them.

The remains of the castle were later used as a prison where around one hundred and eighty men and women were imprisoned in the building now known as the Whig’s Vault. The Whigs were a political party that opposed the Stuart Kings, and because of their refusal to acknowledge the king they were taken to the vault, where they were held for over two months in the cellar in terrible conditions and with almost no food or water. Thirty seven of the Whigs eventually took the oath to the King and were released. Twenty five escaped, although fifteen were recaptured, and two fell to their deaths. Five prisoners died inside the vaults due to the conditions. Those who survived were deported to the West Indies.

With so much death and destruction in the castle’s history, it is not surprising to learn that it is considered to be the home of several spirits. The ghost of a young girl wearing a tartan skirt is frequently witnessed in the brewery within the castle walls. The tartan she is said to wear is dull, making it impossible to identify the clan it could belong to. Little else is known regarding the identity of this girl, although it is likely she is connected to another ghost seen in the same area described as a lady in green. It is even possible they are the same ghost with people misinterpreting what they see. The lady if green is also witnessed in the bakery area of the castle and is described as looking upset. She is believed to date back to Pictish times and to be seeking the Picts, who converted to Christianity in the 5th century when St. Ninian established a church at Dunnottar as one of the bases to spread Christianity. These Picts are referred to as ‘her lost children,’ implying she may be the spirit of an important religious figure from Pictish times who was saddened by some of her followers moving to a different religion, although with so little records belonging to Pictish times, it is not possible to establish who she may be.

Another phantom of Dunnottar is a soldier who has been seen around the guardroom and main entrance of the castle. He is normally described as a tall man, sometimes said to be of Scandinavian appearance, suggesting he may date back to the time of the Viking invasions. He is said to stand looking out to sea, possibly still guarding against an attack on the castle.

At night, when the castle is quiet, it is also said that cries of pain and terror can be heard within it’s walls, cries that are associated with the suffering endured by the Whigs during their time of imprisonment in the Whig’s vault.

A visit to Dunnottar is well worth the journey, although the steep access path that winds first down the hillside and then back up to the castle is not suitable for those with any mobility issues. However, the most impressive feature of the castle is indeed the location, which can be appreciated without having to enter the castle itself. It is easy to see why the position of the castle made it almost impenetrable to invading forces. At the time of my visit to the castle, I felt nothing untoward although, with such a long history, if any castle is truly haunted, I suspect Dunnottar is very high up on the list.

 

Written by Greg Stewart - Extract from Greg's new book (Haunted Scottish Castles and Houses http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00EG47ZKY).

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Caithness & North Coast of Scotland

Traveling in the far north of Scotland is an experience you are unlikely to ever forget.

The first impression you get is of a sense of space and vast openness. This is big country, with wide skies that go on forever and dramatic seascapes The majestic moors merge westwards into rugged craggily peaks. You simply must witness the spectacular skyline of Ben Loyal by Tongue. There is a sense of solitude here that you simply can't find anywhere else, except for maybe Iceland.

I arrived here in the town of Wick in early August, when the sun doesn't go down until after 9 and even though it is summer, the breeze that blows off of the sea can be quite brisk. The evenings can get quite chilly here too, so come prepared. I was going to walk along the moors in the highlands, starting out in Wick and walking through John O'Groats and Thurso, before finally making the long walk to Tongue.

The first stages are pretty easy to do in a day, with lots of time left over to spend in the local pub meeting the residents of these fascinating little towns. Walking along these moors, you half expect to see a werewolf or another mystical creature, but the truth is that you rarely see anyone. When you do run into a local, expect to stop and have a conversation, as these are a talkative lot. They also know this country like the back of their hand, so don't be afraid to ask for advice. There are trails and small roads all across the coast here, and I would have walked right past John O Groat if it had not been for me running into a place ironically called "The Last House". From there it was just a short walk to Hamnavoe Bed&Breakfast where I ended up for a couple of days. You can actually get a ferry here to the Orkney Islands, but I wasn’t quite ready for that yet.



The next part of my journey was to Thurso, and I had planned to do this walk in a day. I guess I kind of overestimated my ability, and even with a short cut past St. Johns Loch, it was getting really late when I arrived in Castletown. Late, and I was exhausted. I dropped down at The Castletown hotel, had a meal and slept until midday. When you walk along these moors, there is so much to see, so much to take in, that you sometimes forget to breath. I made it to Thurso the next day in just about an hour. Here I decided to rest up, drink with the locals and plan the last bit of my trip. I spent a few days staring out at the Orkney Islands, watching insane people surf in ice cold water and visiting a nuclear power station, which is such a bizarre thing to do in such wild countryside.



I wasn’t in a huge hurry to get on with the rest of my journey. The truth is that I was a little intimidated by it. I was heading into open country, and though there are people about, hotels and inns are far and few between. I planned to break my journey i into 3 nights, thinking I would find a guesthouse or inn along the way.. I would walk to Tongue (yes, that’s really the name) and take the postbus to Larig. In these remote parts of Scotland, there are no public busses, so you literally hitch a ride with the post man.



Photo: Tongue, Highland, by Florian Fuchs

For two days I wandered slowly across this land of peat bogs, lochs and rivers. It was easy enough to find food and shelter, but to be safe I struck up a conversation with any person that came across. You can never have too much information. On the last day of my journey I was approaching Tongue and I heard the very distinct sound of bagpipes in the distance. This was completely surreal in the somewhat stark countryside here. Intrigued, I followed the sound to it’s source, where I met an older guy standing by his car playing away on this very weird instrument. I think he was as surprised to see me as I was him. We had a chat and he explained that his wife hated the sound of it, and so he would drive out into the wilds and play once or twice a week. I asked him if I could have a go, after all, I had never even seen one of these up close before. He explained to me how I first had to have a chantor (or something to this effect) and then use the finger rings. So my debut performance, on the bag pipes took place that day. The backdrop was perfect, I probably should have worn a kilt. But I must admit, my first attempt will have probably been my last as well. This is one seriously difficult instrument to play and my endeavor was a bit scary to say the least. But my new friend reminded me that the bag pipes were invented to sound like Evil Spirits coming out of the bogs, to put fear and trembling into the enemy so they would be demoralized before battle. Honestly, my performance would have done just that.

Author: Pan Martinez

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