Loch Leven Castle & Mary Queen of all Scots

I looked at the loch as I waited for the ferry to return from bringing back other visitors from this castle with so much history. The loch was huge even today with our modern lookout on life. In 1567 I can only imagine that it looked even bigger when the waters were two metres higher. The loch had been lowered two metres giving more land to the farmers near the surrounding banks, but its size was still immense.

I was sitting in the ferry that I believe would be not a lot bigger than the rowing boat that had taken Mary Queen of all Scots to her prison. In that boat would have been Sir William Douglas sitting in the stern looking towards his place of travel the castle and home. Just in front of him would be chests containing a few of the belongings of the person looking back at him. She was a beautiful red head of twenty five years old, with most probably the look of resignation on her face. Defeat in her eyes with a hint of despair and betrayal in her mind who could know? Behind her would be the two oarsmen pulling together as they guided the rowing boat to the queen’s prison.

I could only imagine that her journey into captivity over those previous four days had been lonely. Those lords and knights that had sworn to protect the queen plotted with the aid of John Knox to oust her from her throne. These supposedly noblemen should have been nurturing this young queen,  but they under the instructions of the John Knox philosophy hated the thought of being governed by a woman.  The very lords and noblemen had broken their oath just a short time before at Carberry Hill. Sir William who was only twenty seven years old had sold his oath to the devil for £1.289-12d, to become Queen Mary’s gaoler. 

While I was in Scotland a few weeks ago researching history for my latest story I went to Loch Leven Castle. I knew the history of the castle a long time before I visited the island it sits on. I was there for a reason and that was to walk in the footsteps of Mary Queen of Scots, who was the true queen of England. For those that need a reminder of history, Queen Elizabeth the first of England was the illegitimate daughter of Henry the Eighth. It was not her right to be queen, and had reason to fear Mary as the rightful heir to the throne.

I walked through the only gate and entrance into the courtyard that is steeped with so much history it sent a tingle up my spine. I thought that this old entrance would have been the only way Mary could enter to be taken to her prison. On the 17^th of June1567 Queen Mary walked through this same gate as a prisoner. She had been lied to by her parliament of lords who broke their solemn oath. [Well, nothing new there, our Members of Parliament are still doing it to us in the UK, 450 years later.]

To my right was the Square Tower House that housed Sir William Douglas and his family. A tall five story building built of large blocks of gray stone. I walked further into the courtyard that was now covered in a blanket of mowed grass. I looked to my right and could see the remains of the great hall. The walls were now just one metre tall at its highest point. At the rear sitting on the outer wall was the remaining gable end left to show where the apex of the roof had once been. There was a lonely vacant window space in the apex that once looked out onto the loch.

In my imagination I could hear the loud talking and the laughter as would have been heard on the 2^nd of May1568. That was the night of the party and banquet for Sir William, when his sons betrayed him for their Queen. While he was making merry feasting and drinking wines and ale, Mary Queen of Scots was escaping. I could only smile at the simplicity of the most dangerous escape from a well guarded castle.

Opposite from where I was standing was the Round Glassin Tower. It was Queen Mary of Scots prison for those eleven months of captivity. I looked at the two chimneys that remained reaching for the sky, and imagined the conical roof that had protected the queen from the elements. I walked in a direct line towards the opening in the wall at the foot of the tower knowing this would be the same path Sir William would take her. I was walking in the Queen of Scotland’s footsteps, and once again I felt the chill slip up my spine.

At the tower I walked inside and saw the tiny steps that lead to the upper floors and the queen’s chamber. Walking up those few remaining steps I realised I would be walking shoulder to shoulder with the walls. The width of the tower was no more than twelve feet from wall to wall, and if square this would still not be big enough to house the Queen of Scotland. The Lords were making their chauvinist point of treating Mary less than human, because they like John Knox needed to show their disrespect not only of the Queen, but of all women.

As I looked up there was only the sky to see, the holes for the fireplaces could be still seen. The floors had rotted away many years ago. There was still her window where Mary sat for so long looking at freedom. On looking out there was now no water for a boat to come close, the loch had receded a few metres and trees blocked the view.

All that was left of the castle now is the ghost of what it once was. The passing of time and the elements were turning this once stately home into a crumbling memory. The whole castle had died as if in shame, when their thick walls could not hold the Queen of all Scots a prisoner. It was the punishment God gave Sir William Douglas for breaking his oath with the other lords.  The twelve hundred and eighty-nine gold coins for being her gaoler were the wages of his sin.