Aberdour Castle

  • Location: Aberdour, Burntisland KY3 0SL
  • Opening times: 1 April to 30 September, 10.00am – 4.30pm; 1 October to 31 March, 10.00am – 4.00pm. Note: Closed Thursdays and Fridays during winter season.
  • Entry: Adults £8.50, concessions £6.80, children (7 – 15 years old) £5.00, families from £16.50. NOTE: These are walk-in prices; tickets are subject to a small discount if bought in advance.  
  • Access: Disabled parking in grounds, other parking in town.

Aberdour Castle is a complex of buildings built between the twelfth and seventeenth centuries in the village of Aberdour on the north coast of the Forth River. The original castle is said to be one of the oldest in Scotland, although that and many later extensions are now in a state of complete ruin, with only the seventeenth century buildings retaining their roofs and no room looking remotely as it did in its heyday. It is the kind of ruin that would have enchanted the Romantics, but there are no lovely chapels, as at Falkland Palace, or painted rooms, as at Culross Palace.

Having said that, I suspect I might have missed a door somewhere. It is only now, looking at the above photo at home, that I realise that I can’t remember being in any part of the roofed seventeenth century castle on the left.

Sir William Mortimer is traditionally identified as the builder of the original castle, commencing sometime in the 1150s. He immediately had a falling out with his neighbours, the monks at Inchcolm Abbey, as Mortimer wanted to get rid of the Augustinian brothers and install his own priest. However, when he attempted to take physical control of the church his path was blocked by Inchcolm island’s entire religious community. “We’re under the protection of his Holiness, Pope Celestine III”, declarith they. “Izzatafact?”, respondith he, as he and his men brushed aside the Inchcolm defenders and seize their objective.

However, it transpired the monks really were under the protection of the pope, as Celestine III sent a document essentially telling Mortimer to keep his hands off. The pope’s intercession ultimately proved unnecessary as Mortimer already regretted his heavy-handedness and had restored Inchcolm to its rightful owners, and even humbly requested that, when his time came, he be laid to rest in the abbey grounds. Legend has it that while ferrying Mortimer’s body over to Inchcolm, the monks dumped him and his coffin in the water instead. Was this some sort of revenge? Spite? A really unfortunate case of clumsiness? Did they relieve the coffin of the valuables being buried with Mortimer, and thought to cover their tracks by dropping the evidence in the drink? We’ll never know, but the channel between Aberdour and the island of Inchcolm is now known as Mortimer’s Deep.

The castle began to deteriorate following its abandonment in the 1700s, and this massive corner section collapsed in 1919. Incredibly, it remained in one piece and didn’t shatter on impact.

Aberdour’s most famous inhabitant, James Douglas, the 4th Earl Morton (c.1516 – 1581), came along about 400 years later. He was a great intriguer who participated in the murder of David Rizzio and the assassination of Lord Darnley; it was also Morton who found the infamous Casket Letters that supposedly incriminated Mary in her husband’s death. Morton was also one of the key players in securing the queen’s abdication and led the rearguard against her forces at the Battle of Langside, Mary’s doomed last ditch attempt at keeping her crown.

Morton became the fourth Regent of Scotland during the minority of James VI, a role that was the Scottish history equivalent to being the drummer in Spinal Tap. The first regent, Mary’s stepbrother the Earl of Moray, held the position for three years before becoming, in 1570, the first head of state to be assassinated by firearm. Moray was succeeded by Matthew Stuart, the 4th Earl of Lennox, and father of Lord Darnley, but he only lasted a year before being shot by a supporter of Mary. Third up was John Erskine, Earl of Mar, who also only managed a year (1571 – 1572) before dying of natural causes. Or did he? The great Scottish diplomat and memoirist John Melville suspected poisoning, not least because Mar died following a banquet hosted by none other than…  James Douglas, the 4th Earl of Morton, and Mar’s successor as Regent of Scotland. Morton’s term as Regent lasted far longer than that of his three predecessors combined, but it ended in 1579 when James VI reached his majority and began his personal rule. Morton was quickly accused, tried, and convicted of treason for his part in the murder of Darnley, and executed on 2 June 1581.

When not embroiled in his intrigues Morton was a bit of a green fingers, and it is him we must thank for the terraced garden, Aberdour Castle’s standout feature. The four ‘L’-shaped terraces run along the castle’s south side before extending about the same distance east, where they are punctuated by a beehive-shaped dovecot, which is believed to date from the late 1500s. The terraces were lost when the castle was abandoned in the early 1700s but were rediscovered in the 1970s and restored to the former glory. Actual beehives apparently dot the orchard beneath the terraces, and the guy behind the ticket counter said that “the bees are a bit agitated at the moment”, so I decided against finding out how agitated.

The terraces and the distinctive dovecote as seen from the castle...
…and the terraces and castle seen from the dovecot.
The interior of the dovecot. It could hold up to 600 birds and provided the castle with a supply of fresh meat and eggs. The overhanging, concentric circles were designed to prevent rats stealing the eggs.
The walled garden, which dates from the 1600s, with St. Fillan’s church on the left and the castle on the right.
St. Fillan’s church was built around 1140 by the Mortimers and it served the residents of the castle for more than 600 years until closed in the 1700s because the then Countess of Morton didn’t want the locals coming so close to the castle. (This is not the first time we’ve come across this uppity attitude in these pages – see Scone Palace for a recent example – but seriously, what was wrong with these people? If only the fervour that fanned the French Revolution had caught fire here (but without the Terror, natch!)). This church was roofless by the end of the eighteenth century, but it was restored in 1925 – 1926 and serves as the parish church for Aberdour once more.
How sad is this plaque, found inside the church. It commemorates two brother from the parish, James Francis Hewitt and William George Hewitt, who were killed within a fortnight of each other at the First Battle of Ypres. Was the Honourable William James Hewitt comforted knowing his only sons died fighting “for their king and country”?

Destination or Diversion?

I dare say one could run around castle and grounds in under an hour, but why do that when the site is better appreciated at a relaxed pace. I say this because even though I wasn’t in a rush I am still convinced I missed some interior part of the seventeenth century building. Also, I saw a young woman reading her book in the walled garden and I was mildly envious; it looked the perfect occupation in surroundings as peaceful as this and on a day this glorious.

My detour to St. Bridget’s Kirk reduced my time in Aberdour, but with its sandy beaches and picturesque harbour it looked well worth exploring and combining that with a trip to the castle could make for a good day out.

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