raiding and thievery became a way of life. A contemporary remarked, “They have a persuasion that all property is common by the law of nature”. Such was their infamous reputation that they were officially “cursed” by the Archbishop of Glasgow. Occasionally the crown would try and impose its authority on this wild land and even allowed English armies into Liddesdale to bring it to heel. It was not until James the Sixth ascended the throne of a united kingdom that Liddesdale began to adapt to a more peaceful way of life.

The two most powerful families in Liddesdale in the sixteenth century were the Elliots and the Armstrongs. Owing little or no allegiance to the crown, they raided with impunity in England and Scotland alike. In 1566 Mary Queen of Scots went to Jedburgh to hold a justice court. Her Warden of Liddesdale was the notorious James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell. He decided to impress his queen and bring to Jedburgh some of the Elliots who had been causing him more than a little trouble. He found this easier said than done. He was stabbed by Little Jock Elliot of the Park whom he had just shot. Elliot subsequently died of his wounds but is immortalised for ever in the lines:

“My name is little Jock Elliot And who daw meddle Wi me”

The badly wounded Bothwell was carried back to Hermitage but had to negotiate to get in as a group of Elliots, who had been imprisoned in the castle, had managed to overthrow the garrison and seize the castle. News of his wounding brought the Queen to Hermitage. Her apparent devotion to the man who was to be the prime suspect in her husband’s murder and whom she later married, was to do her great harm in later years. On her return to Jedburgh, Mary became very ill. So desperate was her condition that her secretary started to make arrangements for her funeral. Years later as she prepared to lay her head on the block in Fotheringay Castle, she was heard to murmur, “Would that! had died at Jedburgh”. Perhaps Bothwell also wished that he could have died at Hermitage as he lay in the Danish dungeon where he was to slowly lose first his mind and then his life.

In 1587 the castle came under the control of Francis Bothwell, a favorite of James the 6th, who was later made Earl of Bothwell. In time honored Border fashion he conspired against his patron and was forced to flee to exile. Hermitage was then granted to Sir Walter Scott of Branxholm in 1594 and remained with the Buccleuch family until 1930 when it came under the care of the Scottish Development Department. Its strategic role had disappeared with the union of the crowns in 1603 and with it went its role in subsequent Scottish history. By the end of the 18th century it had become an abandoned ruin. It was extensively repaired in 1820, but as the plan of the castle before reconstruction was lost in 1810 it is impossible to know exactly how much the restoration changed the original facade.

The Liddesdale valley became a remote, isolated place. It was not until the 19th century that a road was built to go through the valley. Much of Scot land’s early history is fragmented and is mostly hidden from us. Hermitage Castle stands like a stark, gaunt symbol of dark, disordered times. Perhaps that is why it still has the power to disturb.