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No Longer Separated by Oceans and Centuries
Marilyn Nyulassie's Return to Her Ancestrial Home:
Castle Dunnottar, Home of the Keiths
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Please read the accompanying file on Castle Dunnottar, Home of the Keiths
from whom at least one modern Liddell line descends including that of Marilyn Nyulassie and sister Vonda Kay Brock.
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12 May 2000
After years of dreaming of going to England and Scotland the time finally arrived for my husband Jack and I to spend several days there.
We were traveling by the swift trains that transverse Britain. London had been a wonderful experience but we were now finally in Scotland. After spending a terrific time in Edinburgh we boarded our train early in the morning for our destination Aberdeen in North East Scotland, where we were to spend the last several days of our vacation.
We had treated ourselves to first class accommodations on the train. We climbed on board and were shown to our lush and comfortable seats by a very charming young man. To our surprise we were the only passengers in first class.
Immediately after being seated we were served coffee and given the breakfast menu. The train was underway in minutes; we were impressed with the speed of this sleek, modern conveyance. For breakfast we chose the traditional fare, which included eggs, lean bacon, oatmeal, scones and sausage. I chose everything on the menu with the exception of the sausage, I had studied the food prior to our trip and I was pretty sure what the sausage was. Jack said he wanted the sausage, I shook my head at him, but Jack being Jack insisted. Our very knowledgeable server, realizing we were Americans, asked Jack if he knew what the sausage was made of, Jack said “no, should I” I nodded my head. The server went on to explain the sausage is a traditional dish made of animal blood and most Americans do not like it. Jack agreed not to have the sausage.
Aberdeen was one of our destinations because of it’s proximity to the ancient Keith Family Castle, Dunnottar. I had investigated our family history for forty years and am connected to the Keith family through my grandfather Daniel Keith who had married Elizabeth Liddell. I was thrilled to be able to visit the family castle and this section of Scotland.
Dunnottar Castle and lands had been awarded to Robert de Keith by Robert the Bruce after the Scottish victory over the English at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. Sir Robert de Keith, had lead the Calvary in the battle. The Keith’s occupied the castle until about 1715 when, because of their backing of the Jacobit rebellion the Keith Castle was forfeited to the English. It was later recovered and is now administered by a private trust.
As we headed north we were blessed by the view of beautiful, green Scotland rolling out on either side of the train and an occasional glimpse of the North Sea out the right window. The neat, quaint villages we were able to see enchanted us. Although the cottages and gardens were small they all were well kept and charming, with lacey curtains at the windows. Brightly colored spring flowers added to the picture. Each village had a small “Kirk” or church with a well-tended cemetery beside it. I kept thinking it all looked like a children’s picture book.
Between the villages wondered hedgerows, criss crossing the open pastureland and winding up the slopes. Every now and then a great patch of brilliant, yellow canola flowers would appear, the contrast of the bright yellow against the lush green almost hurt my eyes. Scattered everywhere in fields and on the hillsides were sheep looking like white, fluffy cotton balls, some with tiny babies at their sides as it was spring lambing season.
I had studied the location of the castle and when we approached the area just South of the village of Stonehaven I began to scan the beach area for the outline of the castle. A mist had formed in the early morning along the coast so I was quite discouraged, then I saw it, or thought I saw it, in the mist, the outline was unmistakable. A dim shadow of the Keep and the volcanic rock on which it sits. It lasted only a second or two and to this day I am not sure whether I really saw it or just imagined I saw it.
We arrived in Aberdeen and checked into our hotel, had a wonderful dinner and prepared for an early morning trip to the castle. We had gotten information from the hotel that a bus station was just down the street and there would be a bus leaving for Stonehaven at 8:00am, we could take it to the village then transfer to another bus, which would drop us within walking distance of the castle. The trip took about 45 minutes.
The bus driver was friendly and informative. We were the only people on the bus for the short trip from Stonehaven to the castle area. The bus stopped by the side of the road in what appeared to be the middle of a large farming area. The driver advised us to walk about a quarter of a mile north and we would find the castle. We stepped off the bus and crossed the street. We were totally alone. There was only a small, wooden sign that pointed north and said, “castle” on it.
In front of us spread a gentle up hill sloap with a narrow paved road leading the way. The weather was brilliant, warm and clear. We began walking, breathing in the clear, fresh morning air.
As we walked up the road the top of the castle appeared, then with each step more features came into view until the whole complex was visible.
The clarity of the bright sun made everything more intense. The castle stood proudly in it’s ruin, the red brick sand stone of the rock building outlined against the brilliant blue sky and blue green of the sea. My excitement had been building all morning but as we approached the path leading down almost to the beach, then up to the castle gate my heart started to pound. The path was narrow and steep, the walk being eased by some well-placed steppes.
As we approached the buildings the color of the sandstone seemed to change from the red/orange to various shades of gray. Wild flowers were everywhere, along the path, in the field around us, scampering along the curtain wall and bursting from the niches in the cliffs. Their bright colors of deep red, purple, blue and white added to the brilliance of the day.
On the left of the curtain wall is an inlet where the waves break on a cream colored beach. Sea birds were everywhere, flying, swimming and nesting in the niches of the cliffs. To the right of the curtain wall is a tunnel cut through the volcanic rock leading to the other side of the land spit, which connects Dunnottar to the mainland.
Stepping up to the wide ancient stone steps we entered the large wooden gate set into the stone of the curtain wall. The current gate dates from the 17th century but you can see the stone outline of the 14th Century gate. Both the wall and the gate would be very foreboding to anyone meaning harm to the outpost, however, I felt very much at home.
The first thing that catches your eye on entering the narrow passage beyond the gate is a stonewall with four large round holes in it. This was where the cannon would have threatened anyone attempting to breach the castle gate. To the right of this battlement and a little further back is a cave known as the “lions den” in fact it did house a lion at one time and later a bear. At that time the nobles kept these animals as status symbols.
We were on our way up the stairs to the small gatehouse when we met the warden (care taker of the castle). He had been taking pictures of the spring beauty. The Warden was a charming individual and answered our questions. We purchased two guidebooks and continued on our way.
We entered a very small, dark gatehouse, which now served as a museum of artifacts of items found on the property. Unfortunately it was so dark we could not see the display well. There is no electrical power to the castle. I made a mental note that if I were ever fortunate to come back to this place I would bring a small flashlight with me.
Jack had a bad cold, but he knew how important this visit to Dunnottar was to me and never complained once. He found a comfortable place to sit and allowed me to explore the Keep, or tower house, on my own. He told me later that as he sat there he imagined what the sights and sounds of the daily life of the castle must have been, especially the sounds of horses coming and going carrying the knights and warriors who visited or lived on the grounds.
I entered the Keep and paused to allow my eyes to adjust to the dim light. The building was magic. The early Keith’s lived here and this is where I felt most welcome and at home. I must admit the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I had goose bumps. I was alone looking at the fireplace in the great hall. I heard whispers of sea birds from the niches in the stonewalls. At least I think the sounds were from the birds. The whispers only added to the eerie feeling of the place but not an uncomfortable one. I felt presence all around me and I let my imagination flow as I wondered from room to room.
The Keep had originally been a three-story building where the Keith family lived. It is now in ruins but if you try you can recapture the wonder of the impressive place it once was.
The wooden floors of the upper levels have long since either fallen in or the timber taken and used elsewhere. The fireplace was at the opposite end of the entrance. Off to the left was a small anteroom with a stone washbasin and two stone window seats. From the small window you could see the hill in front of the castle. I could imagine this charming room and the great hall with plastered walls covered in fine colorful wall hangings, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight.
I walked to the spiral stone staircase leading to the very top of the Keep. The stones were worn from the hundreds of years of feet trodding on them. At every level of the Keep was a small window. Climbing to the second level I put my head out the window and saw Jack sitting below. He snapped pictures of me as I did the same at every available window. I came back down the stairs wondering how the ladies, with their billowing skirts had managed the staircase.
The Great Hall was my favorite place in the castle. This was the place the lives of the Keith family had played out. I made my way down to what had been the kitchen. It seemed quite a small room where an enormous fireplace dominated. I could imagine the smell of roasting meat and the baking of bread, Light coming only from the fire and the few candles with cooks and servants rushing to prepare the meals for the household. There would have been barrels of salted fish and meats, garlic and onions hanging from pegs in the walls. Tables with wooden mixing bowels and other utensils. Large iron pots and vessels filled with liquids.
Though reluctant to leave the Keep I had left Jack alone long enough. As I stepped outside I again had to allow my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the day.
Jack joined me as we continued our tour. Next to the Keep stood the storehouse. A rather small building that would have held all the food supplies for the complex. It was important for the storehouse to always be well stocked, as a siege on the castle was always possible.
Next stop was the stable not far from the storehouse. Being a horse lover and owner, I was impressed with the solid building which had protected the Earl’s horses. The winters on this rock in the North Sea had to be brutal. The animals would have been warm and snug in this stable with thick walls and floors covered with hay and straw. The rooms at the end of the stable would have housed the grooms and other people who cared for the horses. I imagine there fireplaces helped warm the stables as well as the living quarters.
Passing what had been the forge where the blacksmith kept the horses shod and what ever other iron work needed, done we approached the chapel.
Jack and I walked into the Chapel through the door. The front and back walls are intact with only the sides partly crumbled. As with almost all the buildings the roof was gone. Inside bunches of yellow flowers dotted the crevices in the stonewalls.
There has been a Chapel in this location since St. Ninian founded a mission here about 400AD. It was consecrated in 1276. William Wallace attacked the English garrisoned there at the time burned the first stone building, in about 1297. English soldiers looking for safety ran into the Chapel. Wallace ordered the building burned, killing all inside. The existing stonewalls are most likely 13th Century. I’m sure many changes in the building occurred over the years.
We continued to explore the newer part of the complex, which included the Quadrangle surrounded, by the newer 16th and 17th Century buildings. The living quarters moved at that time from the older Keep to the new, more modern buildings.
The drawing room has been restored. The ceiling is fine wood paneling and the floor is of Abroath Stone. Over the fireplace is a statement honoring Dunnottar for saving the “Honors of Scotland” The Scottish Crown Jewels, during the time of Cromwell, who had already melted down the sold the English Crown Jewels and was determined to do the same with the Scottish jewels. The current Earl had been imprisoned in the Tower of London and had appointed George Ogilvy of Barras, and a friend of the Earl, as Governor of the Castle. While the complex was under siege by Cromwell some brave men and women smuggled the jewels from the castle and buried them in the Kinnell Kirk until they could be safely returned to Edinborough Castle.
From the main floor we again descended downward, into what is referred to as “The Whigs’ Vault”. This is a dank, vaulted cellar, which imprisoned 167 people who did not agree with the style of church being practiced in 1685. These people were kept there in very poor conditions. At one end of the cellar is an open window with a sheer drop down the cliffs to the ocean. I don’t think there were many successful escapes from that place and it is a sad comment on the practices of the times.
We explored the remaining features of the ruins then exited to the large, well-kept Bowling Green. Jack walked back to the castle entrance while I took one more look around. We had been there for hours but it seemed only a few minutes.
Everything had been perfect. The trip, the weather and all of the Scottish people we encountered. After leaving Dunnottar we walked the two miles back to Stonehaven. Before boarding our bus back to Aberdeen we stopped in a local pub for a cold drink.
What a truly wonderful day and experience and one I shall never forget and will make sure my children and grandchildren are aware of. Someday they may also be able to visit this magical place.
Marilyn Nyulassie
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