The magnificent sandstone residence of Raymond Morris, the much-honoured Laird of Balgonie, is one of the finest 14th century towers in Scotland. Probably built by Sir Thomas Sibbald, Lord High Treasurer of Scotland, it was added to and expanded over the centuries until David, 3rd Earl of Leven, built the final wing in 1702.

Despite playing host to several visitors of note – Mary, Queen of Scots, Rob Roy, Daniel Defoe, James Boswell and Dr Johnson included – the castle lay largely neglected by the 1840’s, and letters began appearing in the Edinburgh press decrying its appalling state. The roofs’ being removed so that the owners could avoid paying the Roof Tax certainly didn’t help! Throughout the 20th century vandals and the elements abetted the castles sad decline and, by the 1970’s, it was little more than a melancholic ruin.

In 1985 Raymond Morris, whose family were the first people to live in it for 160 years, purchased Balgonie Castle. They had soon grown used to sharing their abode with the ethereal inhabitants to whom a fortress of such impressive antiquity is, inevitably, home. The Laird’s son, Stuart, has seen a ghostly old man walking across the courtyard; a head and collar materialise out of a wall and front of him, and even a phantom dog and its nebulous owner who disappeared into an invisible doorway. One night, Margaret, The Lady of Balgonie, was asleep by the fire in towers upper room (the wind often howls in demented fury around the walls and windows up here and there is no central heating!), when she awoke to find the figure of a man in 17th century attire, sitting on the sofa opposite. She looked him up and down and then he suddenly vanished. A few weeks later, she came across a portrait of the first Earl of Leven, and immediately recognised him as the revenant she had seen.

But the castle’s most famous spectre is “Green Jeanie”, described in 1842 as being a “well-known phantom”. Garbed in green, her face concealed by a hood, she wanders Balgonie castle and has been seen many times in recent years. Nobody knows who she was or, even what event, if any, made her such permanent fixture in the castles phantom guest book. She has been seen walking behind the iron bars of the ground floor windows in the ruinous 1702 wing and was recently captured on a digital photograph, taken by a guest at one of the many weddings now held at the castle.

The Great Hall, which is the only room never to have been remodelled, still retains many of its original fixtures, and is imbued with a uniquely historic atmosphere chilling yet tranquil. It is a candlelit place of dancing shadows, where reports of indistinct shapes seen flitting around its darker recesses, or the oft heard sound of disembodied voices engaged in indecipherable conversation, are sufficient to send uncanny shivers down the spine. Add to all this, several cold spots detected by visiting mediums; an unknown “something” that once ran its icy cold fingers down the back of an astonished waitress; a disembodied head that once floated out of the great hall; not to mention white and grey figures seen at several different locations, and you begin to understand why Balgonie has the reputation of being one of the most haunted castles in Scotland.

Yet, it is also a very spiritual and peaceful location, and the romantic chapel, bedecked in flowers, and illuminated only by candlelight, is acknowledged as a truly romantic wedding venue. The whole castle, cut off from the outside world by a huge encircling wall, seems trapped in a time warp, and exploring it in the company of kilted and bearded Laird, is an experience without equal. Raymond Morris readily acknowledges the presence of at least nine ghosts at his home, but insists that none of them is malevolent. “They’re like part of the family”, he observes. “they were here first, I just hope they’re pleased with what we’re doing here now”.

On 10th September 1297, William Wallace stood upon the lofty heights of Abbey Craig - where Scotland’s national memorial to him now stands - and gazed across the River Forth at the English held stronghold of Stirling Castle. The second son of minor Scottish noble Malcolm Wallace, William had grown up against the background of war, intrigue and ruthless oppression that had seen Scotland’s King, John Balliol, stripped of his sovereignty by England’s Edward 1st and his country bowed to English rule, her independence sacrificed to the self serving interests of her bickering and duplicitous nobles.

It had been the death in 1286 of Scotland’s King Alexander 111, that set in motion a chain of events that would bring Scotland into open conflict with Edward 1st of England and, ultimately, start Wallace on his path of outlawry, freedom fighting, martyrdom and immortality. Under Alexander’s rule the Scots had enjoyed twenty years of peace, both at home and abroad, and were basking in a period of prosperity buoyed up by a thriving export trade. In 1284 the King had named as his successor to the Scottish throne his granddaughter, Margaret, (‘The Maid of Norway’). Furthermore a treaty had been agreed with the King of England, whereby Margaret would marry Edward’s five- year- old son, Edward of Caernarfon, and join the two dynasties, albeit on the binding agreement that Scotland would remain an independent state. Thus with one act of union, peace and prosperity could be maintained, while Edwards ambition to unite the two countries could be satisfied.

Sadly, it was not to be, for Margaret died en route from Norway and a fierce debate as to a successor ensued. John Balliol and Robert Bruce (grandfather of the future King) emerged as the strongest of the fourteen contenders, but their rivalry threatened to plunge Scotland into a bloody civil war. So it was that the Scottish nobles turned to Edward 1st of England and asked him to mediate in the contest. In May 1291 Edward invited them all to a meeting at Berwick, where he demanded that, before any discussion could begin, all those present must recognise him as Scotland’s Overlord and surrender all Scottish Castles into his hands until after the succession had been agreed.

 On 13th June 1291, led by Robert Bruce and John Balliol, the Guardians and Lords of Scotland lined up to place their hands in Edward’s and, one by one, surrendered their nations independence by recognising him as “superior and direct lord of the Kingdom of Scotland”. Shortly afterwards the accession was settled in favour of John Balliol who was duly inaugurated at Scone.

It was Edward’s insistence that, as Overlord, he had the ultimate authority to hear appeals from Scots against their Kings judgements that edged the two nations into disagreement. But it was his summoning of King John in 1294 to join his war against France that turned the disagreements into open conflict.

In 1295 the Scots cemented an alliance with Phillip 1V of France and effectively declared war on England. It was a brave move but a monumental miscalculation. Edward, at almost sixty years of age, with his flowing mane of white hair was the veteran of many military campaigns – a warlord without peer. He mustered an army of 25,000 foot soldiers and almost a thousand knights and marched on Berwick, then the richest and most populous city in Scotland. His objective was to teach the rest of Scotland what to expect if they continued to resist. In so doing he subjected the unfortunate citizens of Berwick to a horrific three day massacre that left 11,000 men, women and children dead and their blood, so one chronicler lamented, streaming “so copiously that mills could be turned by its flow”.

Edward’s army then swept northwards, inflicting a crushing defeat on Balliol’s army at the battle of Dunbar and capturing the ancient coronation stone, the Stone of Destiny, which was taken from Scone to Westminster Abbey. One by one the Scottish nobles surrendered to Edward. Then in July, at Kincardine Castle, King John himself was forced to confess his rebellion and resign the throne, his humiliation compounded by Edwards ripping the Royal insignia from the chest of his Tabard. When the great seal of Scotland, that most precious emblem of Scottish Sovereignty, was presented to Edward, he cast it contemptuously aside observing facetiously “a man does good business when he rids himself of a turd”.

Edward wasted little time in inflicting English administration upon the vanquished Scots and placed her affairs into the hands of two trusty lieutenants, William de Warenne and treasurer Hugh Cressingham. He then ordered every freeholder in Scotland to swear and oath of fealty to their conqueror.

Most did, but amongst those who steadfastly refused were Malcolm Wallace and his brother, William. Their father, Malcolm, had refused to swear a similar oath in 1291 and had later been killed in a skirmish with the English.

By 1296 William had acquired something of a reputation as an anti-English firebrand who had avenged the death of his father by killing his slayer, an English Knight named Fenwick. He was considered a giant of a man, standing at over 6 feet tall and had become a sort of Robin Hood figure, leading a band of outlaws whose hideout was situated deep within Ettrick forest. On the forest periphery stood the town of Lanark where lived a beautiful young heiress called Marion Braidfute to whom Wallace was, if not married, then certainly betrothed. When the Sheriff of Lanark, Hazelrig, had Marion’s brother put to death Wallace and his comrades stole into town and put fifty English soldiers to the sword. Hazlerig meted out savage retribution by executing Marion “to deny Wallace of the woman he truly loved”.

Wallace returned to the town, murdered the sheriff in his bed, killed his son along with two hundred and forty English soldiers, merchants and commoners, before going on the run, rampaging his way across Scotland collecting fables and followers as he went. Thousands flocked to his cause, including many nobles, chief amongst them the younger Earl of Carrick, Robert Bruce who was destined to continue the fight after Wallace’s death and, having freed his nation from English rule, would become one of Scotland’s greatest kings. When the Scottish Bishop’s gave their blessing to the rebellion it became both a national and moral crusade. By the time he arrived at Abbey Craig, his army had swollen to over 40,000 men, and Wallace himself had become the ultimate cliché of patriotic resistance – a living legend.

From Stirling Castle itself the English commander, William de Warrenne, watched the rebels assemble. With 50,000 seasoned and heavily armed soldiers under him, he was confident that the ill disciplined, lightly armed Scottish force would be no match for his superior army. But, observing battle protocol, he sent two Dominican friars to offer a reprieve for all past misdemeanours if Wallace and his comrades would surrender. “Tell your commander that we are here not to make peace but to do battle, to defend ourselves” was Wallace’s contemptuous reply. “Let them come on and we shall prove this in their very beards.”

On the morning of 12th September 1297, the English cavalry began to file across the narrow, wooden bridge that spanned the River Forth. From their vantage point on Abbey Craig Wallace and his comrades watched as the superior force began to fan out onto the marshy ground below.

At 11am William Wallace raised his battle horn to his lips and, blowing a long loud blast, gave the signal to attack. The English were caught completely off guard as an avalanche of screaming terror came hurtling towards them and plunged into their ranks, swords and spears at the ready. A detachment of rebels broke from the main force and hacked and stabbed their way to the bridgehead determined to secure it. Panic-stricken, the English troops were unable to proceed but found their retreat blocked by their own advancing company. Many fell or jumped into the river where, weighed down by their armour and equipment, they drowned in its deep waters. Others were either cut down by rebel swords, impaled by Scottish spears, or else were crushed to death beneath horses hooves and men’s feet. By afternoon, the greatly outnumbered Scottish force had inflicted a crushing rout on an English army that, until then, had never known defeat. Plundering the bodies of their vanquished enemies, the victorious Scots came across that of the hated English Treasurer, Hugh Cressingham. They promptly flayed the skin from his corpse and fashioned it into a belt for Wallace’s sword.

Wallace was a national hero as he moved on to capture Dundee and drive the English forces further and further south until, by October 1297, not one English soldier remained in Scotland.

But as they retreated, the English adopted a scorched earth policy, burning farms, slaughtering livestock and destroying crops. With the onset of winter and the people of Scotland facing famine, Wallace crossed the border and ravaged northern England. In so doing his reputation for savagery became well and truly cemented in the English consciousness.

It was not all battles, however, he issued a letter to Lubeck and Hamburg declaring that Scotland was free and that trade could resume between the countries. Wallace was knighted and declared the Guardian of the Realm, acting for John Balliol.

But, as is so often the case in Scottish history, victory was short lived. The following year Edward 1st mustered a huge fighting force and, on 12th July 1298, he routed the Scots at Falkirk. The rebellion was over and, although he managed to escape from the battlefield, William Wallace renounced his guardianship of Scotland and faded into obscurity. It is known that he went to France in 1298 or 1299, probably to ask for military or diplomatic help. He may also have gone to Rome for the same reasons. It is highly probable that he returned to his campaign of guerrilla warfare and remained a considerable thorn in England’s side.

But history remains mute about his activities until in 1305, betrayed by one of his own countrymen, he was captured and taken to London. There, in the imposing surrounds of Westminster Hall, he was sat on a bench and laurel crown was placed upon his head. When the Kings Justiciar accused him of treason, Wallace refused to answer the charge, pointing out that since he had never sworn allegiance Edward 1st he couldn’t be guilty of treason against him. The English, however, were not interested in such legal niceties and the result of the trial was a foregone conclusion. Thus it was that on August 23rd 1305, tied to the tails of two horses, William Wallace was dragged through the streets of London to suffer the barbaric punishment of being hanged, drawn and quartered.

The text on this page is the copyright 2004 of author Richard Jones. It may not be reproduced in any form whatsoever without the express permission of the copyright holder or of his publishers, New Holland Publishers Ltd.