Tag: history

Iona Abbey

Jun 16th, 2024

Whenever a parent, family member or friend comes to visit, I try to plan an adventure – to be a tourist in my own home, but also to share it, its beauty and wonder.

This year, my mother gave me a challenge: she wanted to visit Iona. She had heard of it from friends in her church, and I knew of it from its vast historic context. I also knew that it was not the easiest place to access.

Sure enough, reaching Iona would involve a drive to Oban, a car ferry to Mull, driving across Mull, then another passenger ferry to Iona, and a walk from the ferry landing to the abbey. Certainly doable, but not without considerable planning required. Fortunately, this is my specialty, and so I studied maps, studied the routes, booked ferries and hotels and away we went. We were fortunate enough to have three gorgeous days of clear weather, and if there was ever a place to add to the ‘does not disappoint’ list, Iona is it.

History of Iona

The Isle of Iona has been a holy spot since the Irish St Columba (originally Colum Cille, ‘Dove of the Church’) landed there in AD 563 and founded the monastery with his band of twelve followers. At the time, the area of Argyll and its islands were part of Dál Riata, a kingdom founded by men who still held land in Ireland, and whose various descendants would in time spread across most of Scotland (Scotia was in fact the Roman term for Ireland).

Renowned as a centre of learning and art – particularly manuscript illumination – Iona survived repeated attacks by Vikings. In 1200, a Benedictine monastery and Augustinian nunnery were founded, restoring Iona’s importance as a sacred destination for pilgrimage. The church was finished quickly but underwent almost constant renovations, demonstrating its popularity. Like many monastic sites, the abbey fell into ruin after the Reformation of 1560, but was restored in the 20th century and is now home to the Iona Community, an ecumenical group that welcomes Christians of all denominations.

The journey to Iona

The ferry to Iona leaves from the tiny Mull town of Fionnphort, which is about 60-90 minutes by car from the Oban ferry landing at Craignure. The route is absolutely stunning, climbing through hills and following the dramatic coastline, though it is also single-track with passing places, a type of road that not all are comfortable with. It certainly takes a great deal of focus.

Despite its size, Fionnphort offers plenty of parking – evidence of Iona’s popularity – including paid spaces closer to the ferry, or a large free lot a few minutes away. The walk from the car park passes a number of restaurants and pubs where visitors can find refreshments. At the ferry landing there is a very small café, attached to the ticket office.

This café offers snacks, coffee and, most importantly, a gorgeous view of the beach and the Sound of Iona. As we had arrived about 20 minutes before the next ferry would start to load, and our tickets were bought well in advance and safe on my phone, we made ourselves comfortable and I found myself entranced by the beach and rocks around it, to which greenery clings where it can.

The ferry to Iona (see below) is large enough for some vehicles, though only locals are allowed to drive on; everyone else, including a number of cyclists, lines up to board and climb to the upper deck for the short ride across the sound – about 10 minutes. There is barely enough time to register that you are on the water before you are docking again, though I was lucky enough to have a seat that afforded a perfect view of the harbour as we arrived.

The town on Iona is small and picturesque, like so many Highland towns, consisting of only two or three streets with a few small shops, houses and places to stay, all nestled right up against the beach. Beyond the town you can just make out the abbey, if you are not too distracted by the Caribbean turquoise of the harbour water.

We had spent so much time and energy that morning rushing to get from Oban to Mull to Iona that once we finally set foot on the island, we decided it was most important to find some lunch and perhaps another cup of coffee (always paramount on our travels). Fortunately, the Martyr’s Bay Restaurant was just what we wanted: only steps from the ferry and providing an excellent array of drinks, snacks, sandwiches and of course home baking. They also sell Iona whisky and gin, as well as numerous other souvenirs. We took our lunch outside to sit in the sun and enjoy the view over the Sound. Side note, I had remembered to slather myself with suntan lotion that morning, much to my later relief. Anyone who says sunscreen is not required in Scotland is…well…just wrong.

Our lunch view:

Fortified by sandwiches and a scone, we began our walk to the abbey, following in the footsteps of hundreds of years’ worth of pilgrims and tourists. At first, the path proceeds along the main road, leading in only a few minutes out of the modern dwellings and past the ruins of the Augustine nunnery. The nunnery was founded around 1200 by Ranald, King of the Isles, and while mostly ruined it is still one of the best preserved medieval nunneries in Britain.

You can opt at this point either to walk through or around the nunnery grounds, and we chose the former, passing as we did the medieval St Ronan’s Chapel, which was the parish church for the island community until the Reformation.

At this point, the road is about one car wide and lined on both sides by waist-high stone walls, providing a clear path for pilgrims as they wind their way towards the abbey. On the right are the organic gardens for several hotels and restaurants, demonstrating the need for islanders to grow at least some of their own produce – the closest Tesco, I would imagine, is several ferry rides away.

A short walk beyond the nunnery walls is the next step on the pilgrim way – MacLean’s cross. Erected around 1500, it marks the point where the track from the pier met the Sràid nam Marbh, the ‘road of the dead’, leading to the abbey. The cross was a focal point for pilgrims to stop and pray, and was carved on Iona from a single slab of stone. There is a more detailed view of the cross in the video at the end of this post.

MacLean’s cross and the pilgrim trail across Iona

After resting at the cross, we continued up the gentle incline where in these modern times, one finds several artisan shops and the St Columba Hotel and larder, where more refreshments can be found. We powered along, determined to reach the abbey despite the undoubtedly pleasant garden in which several tourists were enjoying a G&T.

As we approached the abbey, the hill rose beside the road to the left, with cliffs of rock and rough earth reminding us of the nature of the island.

Reilig Odhrain

The first break in the wall to the right allows entrance to the Reilig Odhrain, the land consecrated as a monastic burial ground from the time of St Columba. The burial ground is free to enter, and does allow views of the abbey from a distance, as well as a wander through burial markers both old and quite new.

Legend said that this burial ground was the final resting place for many early Scottish kings including Macbeth and his grandfather Malcolm II, though a lack of written or archaeological evidence has cast doubt upon the theory. The Kings of the Isles were certainly buried here, which may have created some of the confusion.

In the centre of the graveyard is St Oram’s Chapel, dating from the 1100s, and the oldest intact structure on the island. Inside the chapel one can view a number of beautiful old stone carved slabs.

St Oram’s chapel and the view from the burial ground:

The Abbey

Beyond the burial ground, the main entrance to the abbey is made through the visitor centre, where you can also pick up an audio tour guide and printed guide to the site. It was my first opportunity to use my new Historic Environment Scotland membership!

Almost immediately upon entering the abbey grounds, we found plaques with information telling us about the road we were on and much more. To the left, the Tòrr an aba, ‘hill of the abbot’ was irresistible to climb, and I found that it did indeed offer excellent views over the abbey complex, the Sound, and the island. The hill may well have been the site of St Columba’s writing hut. Again, there is more of the view in the video below.

A faint dent in the grass leading towards the burial ground is in fact evidence of the pilgrim trail and processional way, the Sràid nam Marbh, ‘road of the dead’, which dates from the 8th century and was designed to emulate the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Most of the paving stones are lost or hidden, but particularly from the hill, one can easily envision the path.

The hill also allows a good view of the original locations of the several high crosses that would have marked the path to the abbey. These date from the 700s and 800s, and while most live in the abbey museum, the cross of St Martin is still proudly in place, as it has been for more than 12 centuries. It is carved from a single block of stone, with one face bearing biblical scenes and the other snakes and Celtic bosses. At one point there were likely many more crosses.

When standing before a cross that has – for lack of a less dramatic term – witnessed so much history, one must be moved. I affirmed recently to a friend that it does not matter what religion or belief system you adhere to – or indeed do not – it is impossible not to find Iona a spiritual place. It is so peaceful, quiet, and out of the way, there is no question why it would have been chosen for monastic retreat.

replica cross of St John in foreground, St Martin’s cross in background

The Abbey Church

Once we had enough of viewing the crosses, I took a moment to duck inside the small chapel constructed just beside the entrance to the main church. This is St Columba’s chapel, likely built to house the most valuable relics the abbey possessed – the bones of the saint.

Any carvings that may have graced the main door have eroded, but a wooden screen has been constructed to provide access to the church, including traditional wooden doors that one finds in many British churches.

Inside, there is a beautiful reconstructed font, and a display of carved slabs that were grave markers. (again, more of this is visible in the video below) Many of the abbey buildings contain these slabs that showed off the skill of the Highland stone carvers of the high and late Middle Ages, and commemorated the chiefs of many nearby clans: MacKinnons, Macleods, MacLeans and of course the MacDonalds.

The church is positively breath-taking – it is still used for services, and has been reconstructed both for modern use and to teach visitors of its significance. Alcoves and chapels display information about the saint, the important visitors to the island, and more. One chapel is a stunning modern memorial to the 8th Duke of Argyll and his wife, who initiated the abbey reconstruction in the early 1900s.

I have a love for cloisters, their symmetry and geometric shapes, and I was delighted to discover that Iona’s cloisters were reconstructed in the 1950s. Often one will find gardens, mazes, or other flora in the middle of a cloister, a fountain or a ‘tree of life’ symbolising the greatness of God in the centre. On Iona, the cloister bears a sculpture originally the work of a Lithuanian Jewish artist, who fled the Nazis during World War II. It is called ‘Descent of the Spirit’ and is inscribed in French indicating that the artist hoped for a better understanding of the human spirit.

After visiting the cloisters, we made our way outside into the brilliant sunshine. I had a bit of a wander around while Mum rested on a bench. What struck me, as mentioned above, was the absolute peace of the abbey; all visitors seemed by agreement to speak quietly or remain silent, and while there was of course wind and noise from sea birds, there was so little sound that I could almost imagine myself to be alone at times.

Eventually, slowly and with a touch of reluctance, we made our way back towards the ferry. We had one last visit to the Martyr’s Bay restaurant for a cold drink and a few souvenirs, and a short rest out of the sun.

The island was busy with visitors, both to the abbey and to the many walks and beaches. There is no question that one could easily spend several days exploring, either on foot or on a bike. Alternatively, Iona is an easy day trip if you are staying on Mull and looking for an adventure; I think it would be rough to try to get over and back to Oban in one day, but it can be done at least in the summer when the light is late and the ferries are reliable.

As for us, I arranged for us to stay on Mull for the night, but I hope very much to return for longer. Skye is the island on which so much time and energy is spent – for good reason – but Mull has plenty of its own wonders.

By the time our return ferry reached Fionnphort, we were both tired – it had been a long day, an early start, and the excitement and wonder of visiting Iona took a lot of energy. My final delight of the day was to see, on the beach, a trio of highland coos relaxing on the sand and munching on the abundant seaweed.

Check out this video for more pictures of Iona:

Find pictures of Iona and other abbeys at my online shop:
Scottish Crannog Centre

Jun 7th, 2024

Monday of this week was one of those spectacular sunny clear Scottish days that belie the tradition that Scotland is only ever wet and rainy. The combination of sun and rain we have had over the past months has made everything lush and green, while the blue of the sky and lochs was almost otherworldly. As it was my last free day before I return to work in a week, I decided it was time for one last adventure, taking my favourite drive up through the hills to Aberfeldy and Kenmore, to visit the Scottish Crannog Centre.

Background on the Crannog

I had visited the Crannog once many years ago, when my family was visiting Scotland and staying in Kenmore; it was Halloween, and so my cousin had discovered a properly Scottish alternative to trick-or-treating for his young children. The Crannog was putting on a Samhain festival (Samhain being the pagan festival that coincides with Halloween), including the burning of the Samhain ram, and so we went along to join in. The kids were just old enough to understand what was going on, as the staff lit the ram on fire and encouraged us all to join in with scary noises to scare off evil spirits – check out the video below!

Entering the crannog – 2006

My only regret is that I took only one picture of the Crannog as it was – though being 31 October it was dark night by the time we were there – and that I did not record more of our visit.

I always had it in the back of my mind to re-visit, especially once the Aberfeldy area was established as one of our more regular holiday escapes, but somehow it never happened. Before we could arrange a visit, disaster struck the Crannog: in June 2021 it caught fire. The origin of the fire is unknown, and not thought to be malicious. The member of staff I met on my recent visit said it took very little time – just six minutes – for the wooden structure to be completely engulfed and destroyed.

I’m sure I cannot even begin to imagine how devastating that was to watch for the staff. The fire took place in the midst of lockdown, and it took several years for the centre to be able to re-open, this time on the other side of the loch on a much larger plot of land. The importance of the site for the community is clear in the many articles about the fire, and in the urgent plea to raise money for its restoration, a plea that was met at least in part by the Scottish government, which provided more than £50,000 in funding.

Visiting the new centre

One can really appreciate the newness of the centre, which only re-opened on 1 April 2024. The parking lot is well set out, and there are clean, new toilets available even for those who do not choose to pay to go inside. The visitor centre itself has clearly been carefully designed to be both comfortable and to match the surrounding woodland; it is topped with turf.

Inside, there were friendly and keen staff ready to help me register and pay my fee for the next guided tour – the only way to visit currently, but also well worth it. There is a small gift shop and café, and I had to wait only 10 minutes for the next tour (I did not visit the café but it smelled and looked very tempting).

The visit began in the museum, and was led by a member of staff who had clearly been involved with the site for years; her passion and fascination with Iron Age cultures was clear, and she did an excellent job of explaining the difficulties with studying this time period and of sharing her love for that period. The museum is relatively small but full of artefacts left behind for 2,500 years including wooden implements, pottery, metal tools, evidence of musical instruments, and stones and beads. With these artefacts, she was able to paint a clear picture of the type of life we think the people of the time must have had – agricultural and not isolated, but connected to places as far off as the Middle East through trade. One did not spend months or years building a crannog to quickly abandon it, after all.

Once we had finished in the museum, we were led out to what can only be described as a living museum, similar in feel to Plimoth Plantation in Massachusetts, but without the actors pretending to be era-appropriate citizens.

Instead, the staff who told us about the various aspects of Iron Age life were perhaps more valuable in that they learned and performed the tasks themselves, as close to how they would have done 2,500 years ago as possible. The buildings, too, were constructed using techniques from the Iron Age (for the most part), though as they explained, the roofs are guesswork as there is no archaeological evidence for anything beyond the shape and materials of the structures.

First we were taken to the cooking building, where an open fire was present and the staff explained how varied the diet was, and how the inhabitants preserved their food.

Next up was the blacksmith hut, where we were taught about the various metals available – copper vs. bronze vs. iron – and the methods used to smelt and shape it. There was also an interesting insight into the work needed to provide the charcoal required for iron work – planning and forest management at the very least.

Then we moved to the woodworking hut and I found it particularly interesting to see how an Iron Age lathe was constructed and used.

It is far too easy, I think, to dismiss some daily tasks or technologies as modern, when many of them were done hundreds and thousands of years ago, just took a lot longer. Or, the technology existed but was vastly different from what we have now – many ancient builders and craftsmen would have had a considerable grasp of science, particularly physics, even if they didn’t think of it in that way. Friction, the power of heat, the potential energy contained in a green branch, for example, all were utilised.

One is tempted frequently ask ‘how did they come up with that?’ and indeed the answer isn’t always clear, but the next building – the textiles hut – really brought home the element of trial and error that must have been part of everyday life (annoyingly I forgot to take a picture). Archaeologists can show that a certain item or product existed, and it can take months and months of experimentation to work out how it may have been done; dyeing of wool, setting of dye, carding, spinning, weaving, all would have evolved as more was learned about what worked and what did not. The woman in the textiles hut was particularly good at making clear the vast amounts of time – and woollen yarn – that it would have taken to produce clothing, though she also reminded us that there was nothing else to do in the evenings and so everyone, including children, would have taken part in spinning. It was fascinating to hear about the lengthy and specific processes involved in producing, for example, a red tunic.

The final building was the round house, which consisted of dry stone walls, a thatched roof, and a tremendous upside-down basket that made up the domed interior walls and roof. Several staff told us how it was a massive effort from tens of people to cut the willow at the right time and weave the ‘basket’. As we sat listening to the staff talk about oral traditions, the wind was howling around the building but it stayed warm and draft-less, making one appreciate how it would have been possible to survive on the banks of this loch even in the winter.

The round house and interior ‘basket’ walls:

The Crannog itself is not yet re-built, as they are doing their best to construct it in the proper way, allowing the sunken beams to age in the loch before starting the floor and walls. The left-hand side of this picture shows the beams currently aging.

It should with luck be complete within 18 – 24 months, making a re-visit absolutely necessary. In fact, the site is constantly evolving, and the staff were so excited to talk about the upcoming projects to entice us back again.

If there is one thing that stood out – other than the impressive creativity and craftsmanship of the place – it was the team of staff, many of whom had been involved in the construction of the buildings and all of whom created replica products on a daily basis. Food, iron, textiles, woodworking – all of the examples we saw were crafted by the staff. Many, like the blacksmith, had studied both modern and ancient methods of the craft, and all were so passionate and simply loved to talk about what they did. Allowing us to view but also touch, feel, and even taste Iron Age reconstructions really helped bring the time period to life.

Background of crannogs

One aspect of the crannog that I recall thinking when I visited in 2006 and was repeated several times by the staff at the centre, was the ingenuity of building over water. The advantages are clear and include: building over water saves valuable land space for agriculture and livestock which is not always prevalent in Scotland; it is safer from natural predators and from other humans; it places inhabitants on the waterway that was a natural highway for trade; it is easy to access fresh water and fish; and many other reasons, I am sure.

While Loch Tay boasts the remains of many crannogs, the dwellings are evident on the banks of many rivers and lochs in Scotland, demonstrating that Scotland was a relatively desirous place to live in the Iron Age. Fish, game, and wild plants (garlic, berries, nuts) were abundant. The climate was likely a bit warmer and days like the one I visited showed just how fine weather can be.

sunny, windy day on Loch Tay

Not that I am in any way intimating that life would have been easy, but it certainly would have been far more varied than might be first thought. What remains most frustrating, of course, is how little we know about society at this time. It was pre-history, before written record, and many artefacts have not survived to inform archaeologists and historians. But, in the way of proper modern interdisciplinary study, academics from fields of history, archaeology, biology, anthropology and more can look at modern societies to understand more about how ancient peoples may have lived – ethnoarchaeology. All of this has informed the site, as well as the community of historians and experimental archaeologists who choose to learn by performing tasks in the ancient way. You can find out more about Scottish crannogs on the BBC website, and it is worth mentioning that crannogs were also prevalent in Ireland.

Now I fully admit to being a history geek – anything pre-1500 holds interest for me – but I think it fair to say that the Crannog Centre offers a fascinating and passionately-presented glimpse into Scotland’s history. A great day out for children and adults alike!
Castle Campbell

May 8th, 2024

Castle Campbell holds great appeal to me not only for its location but for the memories it evokes. My first visit took place almost entirely by accident. I was staying in Doune in January, in a tiny hotel that had very few guests in the off-season. In the breakfast room one morning, I struck up a conversation with a nearby couple upon realising that they, too, were American. The woman had been involved in a writing course in the Highlands and she and her husband were exploring Scotland a bit before heading back to the US.

As the conversation continued, I was offered a lift back to St Andrews, on the promise that I would provide a personalised tour of the town when we arrived. Along the way, they planned to stop at Castle Campbell – if I wasn’t already convinced, this tipped the scale. Now I suppose there could have been an element of concern here; was this a safe option for a single girl travelling on her own? But something in my gut told me it was just too odd to be anything other than a happy coincidence. A castle-loving American couple chose to stay at the same tiny hotel in Doune, in January?

Fortunately, my gut was correct. They were a lovely couple and we had a great day exploring first Castle Campbell and then St Andrews. And so my first visit to the castle was exterior only, and in the snow. I still recall the drive up the narrow road that eventually reaches a car park – that road has not changed, except that there is likely more traffic on it now.

The approach to the castle is nearly as stunning, meandering through the back roads of Dollar, which is a well-to-do little town with enough old stone houses and charming gardens to make anyone drool. The road is single-track with passing places, and if one is lucky, one can make it most of the way up before encountering another vehicle. With a hill on one side and the gorge of Dollar Glen on the other, the road is harrowing to say the least. I would certainly recommend going either on a week day out of school holidays, or first thing on a Saturday, before the tourists have found their way there (locals, I find, tend to walk up through the glen).

If you can make it up past the larger car park to the one at the top of the road, and if you are lucky enough to find a parking spot, it is worth every moment of wheel-clenching fear. (Note, if you can’t manage a spot there, the larger car park is still a good option though requires hiking the last quarter mile or so up the hill along the road. Great view!)

Once you have parked in the upper lot, you are still a good 5 to 10 minutes on foot from the castle, though there are tantalising glimpses of it through the trees. There is a metal farm gate that keeps the sheep inside, and on the other side you will find a sign informing you of the castle history, as well as that of the nearby Tower Trail of medieval tower houses throughout Clackmannanshire.

Here the path diverges – one branch leads straight ahead of you, heading steeply down-hill, while another leads up to the right. I would recommend, in the first instance, making your way up the hill a few hundred feet or so until you can look back over the castle, glen, and the flat land beyond. You can then head back to the main track, which is a steep decline until you reach the burn below.

At the burn you can really see the castle rising out of the foliage, and so it gives one the energy to keep moving. Another up and down brings you to the main castle gate, which was closed for much of lockdown and only re-opened in April 2024. If you are feeling energetic, you can hike up behind the castle and follow a path into the hills, which I did just long enough to get another excellent picture or two; this is also the path to take if you wish to climb to the top of Bank Hill.

If your goal, like mine, includes seeing inside the castle, you need only climb one more short path to reach the main gate, which is set into the castle curtain wall, next to the imposing tower keep. The beautiful tree standing immediately outside makes for a stunning backdrop to pictures, too.

When I last visited, I was the second person through the gate when they opened in the morning, after an equally eager Eastern European tourist. As they so often are, the two gents running the castle for the day were friendly, helpful and knowledgeable, and I had a good long chat to them both about medieval history in general. There is no question that castle stewards appreciate a visiting medievalist!

Castle Campbell, or Castle Gloom as it was known at its inception, dates from the early 1400s, though the benefits of its strategic location suggest it may have been fortified well before that time. One needs only observe the steep hills and deep ravines on either side – in one runs the Burn of Sorrow, the other the Burn of Care – to realise that it would not have been attacked without serious effort, and of course the views make it ideal for watching movements across the flat land below.

First built for the Stewarts of Lorn, the castle transferred to the 1st Earl of Campbell in the late 15th century, and much of it was rebuilt at this time after it suffered a fire and destruction by the Stewarts. By the late Middle Ages, the Campbells had risen to become one of the most powerful clans in the western Highlands, not in part due to their allying with Robert the Bruce during the Wars of Independence.

The keep and inner courtyard are still in excellent condition, and the keep is fully enclosed and can be explored by several spiral staircases. Some unique features include the loggia below, several latrines, a prison, and the well-restored chambers with window alcoves and fireplaces evident. On the first floor of the tower, there is a display on the castle and a diorama of what it may have looked like in its heyday, complete with formal gardens.

It was the second earl who built the south range of apartments – now mostly ruined – as well as the terraced garden below the castle. There is evidence of the architectural style being influenced by the royal castle at Stirling – certainly the castle was designed to demonstrate the wealth and power of the Campbells. In the 1450s and 60s, the earls were a vital part of the royal court, and used Castle Gloom as a stronghold and residence. In 1488, the earl petitioned King James IV to change the name of the castle to Campbell. Not long after, the earl would die alongside his king at Flodden, in 1513.

The loggia which can be seen in the pictures above – beautiful carved columns that stand out as unusual in Scottish castles – was likely added in the late 16th century, mirroring a style seen at the Bishop of St Andrews’ castle. Indeed, while Castle Campbell does not cover a great deal of ground, it includes all the features of castles – intact or partially ruined – that one might expect to see. There are bed chambers, the great hall, foot-worn spiral staircases, cellars for storage, and great recessed windows cut into the walls with which I am always fascinated.

You can climb to the very top of the castle to look out over the countryside, and enjoy the slightly dizzying view down towards the gardens. As one not overly fond of heights, I required a few deep breaths before I ventured to the edge of the parapet. The views are incredible; if you look north the hills disappear into the skyline, if you look south you can see all the way to the edge of the Firth of Forth and the industrial smoke stacks.

The newer parts of the castle, which are also those most in ruin, include two ways to get to the garden; one is out the side door, but the other is through a stone tunnel that emerges onto a grassy bank. The lower garden wall was all in purple when I last visited, and boasted views back up towards the main facade of the great hall, and the tower.

It is easy to imagine well-dressed lords and ladies parading around this terrace, perhaps playing a lawn game, enjoying the flowers and the views. According to the records, the castle saw several important visitors in its day, including (of course) Mary Queen of Scots, who stayed at Castle Campbell in January 1563, and the Protestant reformer, John Knox, who was favoured by the earls.

The Protestant leanings of the earls would lead to the eventual abandonment of the castle; Campbell had crowned King Charles II at Scone, but abruptly switched sides after Oliver Cromwell’s defeat of the Scots at Dunbar in 1650. The castle was used to garrison English soldiers in the early 1650s, and it was badly damaged and burned by the Scots in July 1654. The return of Charles II to the throne in 1661 saw the eldest Campbell executed for treason; his son was restored to the earldom but chose to reside in Stirling and built a house for himself beside Stirling Castle – Argyll’s Lodging.

Over the subsequent few centuries, the area around Dollar became well-known for its beauty, and there is to this day a gorgeous – if at times challenging – trail that can lead you from the town of Dollar, up one side of the glen to the castle, and down the other side (though the top part of the Burn of Care side has been closed for some time due to trail damage). The hike is steep in places, but offers yet more unique views back towards the castle.

I am sure I will write more about the walk in Dollar Glen at another point, but suffice it to say, there is something moving about the castle ruin and the nearby hills.

While Clackmannanshire (Britain’s smallest county) is very much not the Highlands, it offers a very small taste of what one will see further north: sheep, hillsides covered in grass and gorse and heather, steep-sided ravines through which rivers rush and create waterfalls and gorges. Even though I have visited several times, it is a castle and an area I can never get tired of seeing, whether it is to roam the halls or find adventure in the hills and trails behind it.
One Year of the Wandering Medievalist

Mar 31st, 2024
Happy Anniversary to me and to you, my readers! 🎉🏆

It has been one year since I started this blog (though the idea had been percolating in my mind for some time before that) and I want to take a moment to say thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and most importantly loving all things medieval.

In honour of this anniversary, let’s look at some of the highs and lows of my last year:

Do you remember what my first post was about?

Maybe you weren’t following me then, or maybe it’s just a bit too long ago 😉

Take a look.

What about my first castle post?

I’ve posted about castles at least 13 times on my blog, but which one came first?

Kinda had to be, right? It’s super famous after all, a real movie-star castle.

Highlights of this year

My most viewed castle post happens to be about the castle that I recommend first to all visitors to the area – better than Edinburgh in my humble opinion.

The least viewed castle post was poor Scarborough – maybe you missed it? Built largely by Henry II, it is well worth a look.

My most viewed page overall was the Wandering Medievalist Map – I’m glad to see it’s of interest! I do have a bit of a thing for maps…

Check out the stunning Wolfe’s Neck State Park in Maine, or Caerlaverock Castle.

I posted most frequently in my first month, April 2023, but my busiest month for views was August 2023 – I wonder why?

I wrote about some truly stunning places in August, including Loch Linnhe, Dean Village and Leith Walk, Carcassonne, Toulouse, and the Glenfinnan Viaduct. What a busy bee I was…

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Most of my readers come from the US or UK, which is no real surprise. Please do keep sharing with anyone interested in hiking, history, or my unique thoughts.

I mention my thoughts, because I was somewhat surprised to see that my most popular post of the year was not a Highland Hike or a Crumbling Castle or even an Ancient Abbey. Instead, it was a post simply about my opinion on a topic I could talk about for some time (and have)…

Have you read my take on Mel Gibson, Kevin Costner, Charlton Heston and other giants of the movie world?

Your interest in this post has motivated me to look at writing some more specific reviews, particularly of those movies who have most inspired my love of the Middle Ages. Perhaps I will even share some of my more academic writings about movies, in time.

A few reflections…

The idea for a blog came to me in the depths of pandemic lockdown in 2020, and it took me almost three years to find the time and headspace to get it up and running. In that time I had countless ideas for posts and opinions I wanted to share, and I’ve made a small dent in the long list I made.

Overall, it has been a fantastically fun experience. I have learned so much and perhaps more importantly allowed myself the time to learn about editing, photography, and how to put together a post that is not too long and not too short (though there may be a few of those). I’ve been exploring with page design, spending lots of time playing with Adobe, and I am much less afraid of the ‘manual’ setting on my camera. I have been more thoughtful about books I’ve read and movies I’ve watched, considering if they are something I might want to share, and I’ve been learning a bit about self-promotion (not my strong point).

Most of all, it is incredibly rewarding for me to have a creative outlet, to have a place to share my thoughts and pictures and hope that you will enjoy them. I have even been encouraged to turn back to my first love of creativity – writing. In time, I may even work up the confidence to share some of it with my audience.

In the meantime, I am excited to see my readership slowly growing, and hope it will continue to do so. I have plans that the next year will allow me to focus more on creative than I have for many years – even decades – and I cannot wait to see what will come of it. Creative has been missing in my life for too long, and I am welcoming it back with open arms, and remembering the value it adds to my life.

What else is next for the Wandering Medievalist?

I’ve got a few posts already planned, and hopefully some day trips to add to my collection. Look out for:
- Balvaird Castle
- Castle Campbell
- Glencoe and Fort William
- Highlights of Puerto Rico
- My favourite drive in Scotland
- Film review of Disney’s Sleeping Beauty
- a visit to the newly-reopened Crannog Centre on Loch Tay
- and much more!
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And perhaps most exciting, look out for the Wandering Medievalist online shop, launching in May! You will be able to buy prints of my pictures, request prints that may not yet be available, and in time additional products too (calendar? mug? photo book?)

Is there something you would like me to write to about?
Complete this form to send me your thoughts:
Ludlow Castle

Mar 1st, 2024
This post has been very long in coming, due in part to a month of February that both sped by and was quite challenging. I was also very keen to include some history of this magnificent spot, and so even more research than normal was required.

Several years back, I was fortunate enough to be invited to speak at the Mortimer Historical Society autumn conference. A work colleague knew one of the conference organisers, who along with being passionate about the Mortimers was a knowledgable and kind host. My train ticket and accommodation were taken care of, and one afternoon before the conference I was able to visit the stunning castle. Ludlow is the type of castle I adore – ruined but only partially, with a solid feel for what it would have looked like in its heyday. I could happily have spent hours exploring the towers and keep, as well as the unique round chapel.

Ludlow – the town
Dating back to 1086, Ludlow was a planned town, built around the castle. Situated on the Welsh marches – border lands – the fortress was constructed to help subdue the local Anglo-Saxons and of course keep an eye on neighbouring Wales. For this reason, town walls were constructed in the 1230s, several stretches of which are well-preserved.
Ludlow, Shropshire, England
The plan of the town is evident. Before the castle is a large market square, and the streets lead away in what feels like a very un-medieval planned grid of sorts. There are reams of beautiful buildings from different styles and time periods, and I spent a good few hours wandering the streets and discovering unusual paths and construction. But the castle, of course, was the pièce de résistance.

Ludlow – the castle

Ludlow is one of those epic castles that has played a part in many points throughout history. The first phase of construction was begun by Walter de Lacy, one of many Normans who came to England with the conquest of 1066. Throughout the 11th, 12th and 13th centuries, the subsequent rulers of the castle were frequently at odds with the king, but that did not mean there was no time for construction.

The unusual round chapel of St Mary Magdalene was build in the early 12th century, likely modelled after the round churches of the Knights Templar, an order which the castle’s owner Gilbert de Lacy later joined.

Chapel of St Mary Magdalene

The Great Tower that dominates the outer bailey likely dates from the 1130s.

In the 13th century, the solar block was added, creating more comfortable living space for the family and enabling the lords to more adequately welcome guests. In 1223, Ludlow was the site of unsuccessful peace talks between King Henry III and his brother-in-law, the Welsh Prince Llywelyn ab Iowerth.

These buildings are more clearly viewed when you climb up the Great Tower, and look over the castle interior. Like in many ruined castles where the floors are long gone, you can look up the walls to see doorways, corbels to support the floors, fire places, and of course windows.

In the 1260s, the hapless Henry III lost most of his power during the Second Barons’ War, and his son Prince Edward was held captive for some time by the de Montfort cause. Upon his escape, Edward used Ludlow as a rallying point for supporters with whom he launched his campaign to re-take the throne. For Edward, Ludlow was considerably better luck than it was for his father – the Battle of Evesham was a resounding victory that created Edward de facto king, though his father would survive for some years more.

The Mortimers who inspired the creation of the society for whom I presented a paper gained control of the castle in 1301, when Roger de Mortimer married the heiress, Joan. Roger’s tenure included the addition of the Great Chamber block, another concerted effort to turn a defensive castle into a residential one.

Not the chamber block, but another view of the wall.

Mortimer was notorious in history for a much more prominent reason, however, in that in the 1320s he would be exiled to France, where he made an alliance with Queen Isabella, estranged wife of King Edward II. Together they returned to England in 1327 and seized power, imprisoning Edward II. Mortimer was named Earl of March, and Ludlow gradually became the Mortimer family’s most important property. Though Roger was eventually hanged, the castle stayed in Mortimer hands.

View from the castle walls across the countryside.

In the 1400s, the castle was inherited by Richard, Duke of York, a primary combatant in the Wars of the Roses and father to kings Edward IV and Richard III. He installed his family in the castle in the 1450s, and when Edward IV eventually gained the throne in 1461, he added Ludlow to the royal holdings. Edward evidently held great affection for the castle, visiting regularly and establishing his heirs – the Princes in the Tower – there in the 1470s. The boys would live there more or less until their father’s death and their fateful journey to London in 1483. (Side note, I will not discuss here my thoughts on Richard III’s capability in the deaths of the princes, though I may at another point.)

During the English Civil War and Interregnum in the 17th century, the castle fell into decline, and at one point there was even a suggestion that it should be totally dismantled. Fortunately it was leased from the crown by the Earl of Powis, whose family eventually bought the castle in the 1880s and maintain it to this day. The Trustees of the Powis Castle Estate manage it as a tourist attraction, allowing more than 100,000 visitors annually to explore the historic walls.

I count myself lucky to have been one of them! Ludlow is definitely one of those castles that appeals to castle nerds like me; you can see the evolution of the building style, from defensive structures like the Great Tower to more decorative buildings inside. And in a perk I always enjoy, you can still climb high enough on the walls and in the tower to see out across the grounds and the surrounding countryside. Not only is the view lovely, but it further supports the building of a castle in that spot; the hills and river made this an ideal location for a proper medieval fortress.
Elcho Castle

Jan 13th, 2024
Our excursion to Elcho Castle was part of a late summer weekend during which we met a friend – and fellow medievalist – in Perth for lunch and decided to explore this heretofore unknown castle. I had identified it on one of my many castle maps of Scotland, and the Historic Scotland website confirmed it to be a well-preserved example of a late medieval Scottish tower-house. I note that as of writing, the castle is one of the many currently closed while masonry inspections are undertaken.
Only four miles from Perth, Elcho is accessed by narrow back roads that eventually lead to a small car park, the castle, and the nearby listed cottage. It was built by the family of Wemyss of that Ilk, around 1560, and is an interesting example of a comfortable country manor residence that was also defensive. It has both guest rooms and gun ports. As one can see from the view from the castle walls, it was happily situated beside the River Tay, amidst fields for crops and sheep, as well as an orchard. In the distance one can just make out the cliffs of Kinnoull Hill.
Elcho Castle, Rhynd, Perth PH2 8QQ, Scotland
View towards Perth along the River Tay

The view to the west is towards Perth, just out of sight beyond the rise, and to the east along the river in the direction of Dundee and Fife.

It is just about possible to walk around the outside of the castle, though the river side is well-treed and the view of the walls is obscured somewhat. There is evidence of a formerly walled courtyard and at the edge of the orchard are some well-placed picnic tables.

The true joy for a castle lover, though, comes inside, where the main hall, vaulted pantry and cellars, and numerous floors are all visible. Deep kitchen hearths and ovens can be explored, and there is a combination of restored rooms, but also open space where you can look up the walls to see where additional floors and fireplaces would have been.

And of course, one can climb to the top of the castle walls to see the views above, and examine the turrets and roof that was replaced in the 19th century.

It is quite easy to see, while wandering through these rooms and the nearby land, how this could be a comfortable spot to live. The surrounding fields are plentiful, the river is close by for fish and transport, and while the orchard is clearly young, one can imagine there may also have been one in the 16th century.

Also on the grounds is a well-preserved doocot (Scots for dovecote), surrounded by a small garden. This doocot would have provided valuable food for the castle through the winter months, both from the birds living within and their eggs.

We did not spend a great deal of time at Elcho but it was the perfect castle for an afternoon jaunt; photogenic and well cared-for, it also boasts a small gift shop which, to our delight, sold ice cream. We happily enjoyed our treat, which also kept the other half patient while I scurried around taking pictures of the castle exterior. Though it does not necessarily hold a dramatic place in history, Elcho is an excellent window into the past, demonstrating how comfortable life might be for a lord living in the late 1500s. It is also an excellent castle to explore, and once it has opened again I could see it as a good spot for children, with lots of rooms to get lost in. Furthermore, it is an easy day trip from Perth, Dundee or anywhere in Fife, the perfect spot for a picnic!