New Slains Castle

Listen first. Wind comes off the North Sea and moves through empty window frames. Somewhere below, waves break against dark rock. Gulls call over the cliff edge. Under your feet the grass is short and springy, kept low by salt and weather. In front of you stands a roofless shell of pinkish-grey granite, its walls open to the sky. This is New Slains Castle, on the clifftops just south of Peterhead, above the village of Cruden Bay.

The name holds the first surprise. If this is New Slains, where is the old one? Old Slains Castle stood a few kilometres further south along this coast. It belonged to the Hays, the Earls of Erroll, one of the most powerful families in northeast Scotland. In the 1590s the ninth Earl joined a Catholic rebellion against King James the Sixth. The king answered by blowing up Old Slains with gunpowder in 1594. Only a fragment of that earlier castle still stands today.

The Earl went abroad for a time, but he did not stay in exile forever. He made his peace with the crown and came home. Around 1597 he began building again, here, on this headland. The new castle grew from an older tower house on the site. Over the next two centuries the family added wings and courtyards. The building you see today is the result of many layers of work, not one single design.

The Hays held an unusual title. The Earls of Erroll are the Hereditary Lord High Constables of Scotland. In practical terms, this office placed them very high in the order of precedence at royal ceremonies. A family with that rank needed a seat that matched it. So this windy promontory became the home of one of Scotland's great noble houses, far from the court, facing the open sea.

Now look closely at the walls. Much of the outer face is smooth, squared granite. That finish comes from a major rebuilding in the 1830s, when the castle received a new look in the Scottish baronial style. In simple terms, that style borrows towers, gables and a fortified feel from older Scottish castles, but uses them for comfort rather than defence. The Aberdeen architect John Smith is usually named as the designer of this work. Behind the clean granite, older rubble walls still survive in places.

Walk to the seaward side, carefully. Here you see the second surprise. Parts of the castle stand almost flush with the cliff. The wall seems to continue straight down into the rock. On a rough day, spray can reach the stones. The builders chose this spot for its natural protection. The sea guarded one side, and steep ground guarded the others. That choice also left the house exposed to every storm that crossed the North Sea.

In 1773 two famous travellers arrived at this door. They were the writer Samuel Johnson and his friend and biographer James Boswell, on their long tour of Scotland. Both men wrote about their stay at Slains. Johnson was struck by the view of the open ocean from the windows. Boswell recorded a restless night, kept awake by the sound of the wind and the sea. Standing here now, it is easy to understand why.

The castle's most repeated story belongs to the late nineteenth century. The Irish writer Bram Stoker spent summer holidays in Cruden Bay from the 1890s onwards. He wrote parts of his work here, and he set at least one novel on this coast. Locals say that Slains gave him ideas for the castle in Dracula. There is no proof that it did. Still, the link is now part of the castle's identity, and many visitors come because of it.

Take a moment to imagine the rooms around you as they once were. There were fires in the grates, carpets on the floors and glass in every window. Servants moved through passages that are now open to the rain. The octagonal room that faced the sea is often pointed out by local guides. Today only the outlines remain, but the window openings still frame the water in the same way they did for the family.

The end came in the twentieth century. Costs rose and family fortunes fell. In 1916 the Earl of Erroll sold the estate to the shipping magnate Sir John Ellerman. Within a decade the new owner removed the roof, in 1925. Without a roof, a building could avoid certain taxes, and so the slow decay began. Rain, frost and salt have worked on the stone ever since.

As you walk through the ruin, notice how the plants have moved in. Grass grows along the tops of walls. Moss darkens the shaded corners. In spring and summer, small coastal flowers appear in cracks between the blocks. Seabirds use the ledges of the nearby cliffs. The castle has become part of the coastline itself, shaped by weather as much as by builders.

This is also a place to be careful. The ruin is open and largely unfenced. Floors have gone, some walls lean, and the cliff edge is close and sudden. Keep to solid ground, stay well back from the drop, and watch children and dogs closely. In wet weather the grass and stone become slippery. The best views often come from a few steps back, where you can take in the whole building against the sky.

If you have time, follow the coastal path a little further north. It leads towards the Bullers of Buchan, a collapsed sea cave that now forms a deep, round chasm open to the sea. Johnson and Boswell visited that spot too, on the same journey. To the south, the long curve of sand at Cruden Bay leads back to the village where Stoker once stayed.

Before you leave, stand still for one more minute. Look through one of the empty windows towards the horizon. The same grey line of sea filled this frame for the Hays, for their guests, and for every visitor since. The roof has gone and the rooms are silent. But the wind, the waves and the gulls sound just as they did. As you walk back across the grass, listen for them behind you.