On June 11th 1567, at Borthwick Castle, a thousand Scottish noblemen
encircled Mary and her newly married husband, the Earl of Bothwell,
who was a suspect in the murder of Queen Mary's second husband, Lord
Darnley, just a few months before
Bothwell
fled the castle towers and left the sanctuary offered by
the 6th Lord Borthwick, leaving his wife and queen behind.
After
Bothwell slipped through the cordon, the noblemen withdrew.
Mary
then made that fateful decision. Exchanging her royal gown for the shirt
and breeches of a pageboy, she left the stoneclad sanctuary of Borthwick
to follow her husband and ultimately face the uncertainty of political
fortune alone.
No wonder these ancient stones, first set in 1430, can seem so solemn,
so melancholy.
Sunlight still lances through the narrow Gothic window of Mary's escape,
but it is a thin, watery light.
Today,
with a blaze in the vast, canopied fireplace, and candles on the gleaming
length of table, the castle's Great Hall provides modern travellers
with a glimpse of its impressive past. The heat rolling out of the fireplace,
the candlelight
glinting off the armour, and footsteps echoing against the vaulted stone
ceiling amaze visitors today no less than they did over 400 years ago.
Even
though the strangers passing through his portals today are decidedly
friendlier than their 15th century counterparts, the original Lord Borthwick
would nonetheless recognize his stately home and fortress.
Borthwick's sheer immensity, designed to intimidate, continues to do
so to this day. You pass through twin 110-foot towers as you enter the
gate from a tiny country road. But what you see now represents less
than half the original structure.
In
1650 Oliver Cromwell besieged the castle, destroying three of its towers.
Artillery damage still mars the keep's back wall. Since then, the castle
has been treated with more respect.
Borthwicks
through the centuries have worked to maintain their family seat. In
1813, a tree grew through the 20-foot-tall Great Hall fireplace, wedging
out the massive stones. The Borthwicks restored
the chimney breast and, almost a century later, in 1903, renewed the
Hall's woodwork.
In
the early 1970s, electricity and central heating were added and workers
cut into the 13-foot-thick stone walls to create bathrooms.
Massive
Edwardian furnishings, including a good number of four-poster beds,
suit the scale and feel of the stone-walled rooms and add a luxurious
touch.
For
guests, though, one of the best features of a stay at the castle is
a tour, after a lavish five-course dinner, through the castle's public
rooms and bedrooms, including the Queen's bedchamber and the Red Room,
decorated with red paint and red flocked wallpaper.
The
Red Room has spooked so many people that the owners called in an Edinburgh
priest to exorcise its lingering spirits.
Legend
says that a young servant girl bore an illegitimate Borthwick son in
the room. Mother and baby, potential threats to the title, were quickly
put to the sword.
In
other era, the Borthwick family chancellor used this room, and the niches
for his safes, which remain in the stone wall to this day. According
to gossip, the Borthwicks discovered their chancellor was embezzling
money from the family coffers. Not concerned with a fair trial, they
intercepted the chancellor on his way home from Edinburgh one evening
and cancelled his contract by burning him to death.
The ghosts of the young servant girl and the fired chancellor still
wander the stony spiral staircases of Borthwick, some people say, and
even the most stalwart visitors admit to feeling invisible presences
in the Great Hall.
Indeed,
a pinch of suspense is all a part of a Borthwick stay. How can you become
part of such an unbroken chain of history, if only for a night, without
being open to the full sweep of its amazing past?
One such episode was the dramatic confrontation on 18th November, 1650,
when Cromwell ordered Lord Borthwick to give up the castle, informing
him
'that if you please to walk away with your company, and deliver to
the House to such as I shall send to receive it, you shall have liberty
to carry off your arms and goods, and such other necessaries as you
have. 'You have harboured such parties in your house as have basely
and inhumanely murdered our men: if you necessitate me to bend my cannon
against you, you may expect what I doubt you will not be pleased with.'
Borthwick initially resisted, but Cromwell's cannon quickly demonstrated
that the castle walls were not the impregnable form of defence they
had once been, and Borthwick quickly came to terms, exchanging his castle
for the lives of its defenders.
Cromwell's
letter hangs today, 300 defiant years later, in the Great Hall. Reminders
of the cruel realities of medieval life at Borthwick await visitors
as well. The small stone cells of the dungeon honeycomb the basement,
and the iron manacles that have become part of Borthwick folklore are
displayed upstairs.
The
jailers often gave prisoners a choice:
>starve
to death in the dungeon or try to leap for freedom.
Those
who chose the athletic option were led to the top of one of the five-storey
towers, and told that if they could leap the 12 feet across to the other
tower, they would be freed.
The
Borthwicks had just two conditions: the prisoner had to start from a
standing position, and his hands had to be manacled behind his back.
'Did anyone ever make it?' a guest asks one of the staff hopefully.
He stares back in amazement.
'I shouldn't think so.'
For
bookings and information on Weddings at Borthwick Castle - Click
here
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"...We
had been dreaming of coming to Scotland to get married for years.
When the time was right the awesome folks at Scottish Wedding
Consultants were there to make our dream come true. Yvonne and
staff were as fantastic! We can not say enough about the great
service they provide."
Richard & Deanna, Illinois, USA
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How
about a Web-Tour around Borthwick Castle??
Clicking here to see the "Virtual Tour"...
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(article
- unknown contributor)
