Opening hours: Daily throughout the year from 9:00 am to 6:00 pm

Kinneff Old Kirk, Kinneff,

Kincardineshire, DD10 0TJ

Lady Kathryn of Whistleberry Castle

Lady Kathryn of Whistleberry Castle

On a green and grassy outcrop, on the coast aneath Kinneff,
Stands a ruined castle site, where the wind fair taks yer breath,
There stands an ancient wall, of an old, old castle keep,
Towering o’er the German Ocean, baith sae wild and oh sae deep.

All that there remains, is that single ruined wall,
Where once stood proud the castle, now only seagulls call,
Defensively it stood, to repel invading foe,
Approaching from the landward, an army daren’t go.

With a drawbridge built sae stout, across a moat sae deep and wide,
This seaward looking stronghold, was heavily fortified,
On three sides &ldqu;twas defended, by the wild and raging sea,
To protect, defend, withstand, all forms of tyranny.

Now Baron John of Slains was a knight both brave and true,
He’d fought for King and country, would have given his life too,
With his lady fair, his horse and hound, and hawk upon his hand,
He rode and hunted freely across the Kinneff lands.

But tragedy it struck, when out hunting one March day,
His horse it threw its rider, and galloped fast away,
To the ground he fell, to his dismay he was on his sword impaled,
Deserted by his horse and hound, his loyalty they failed.

Lady Kathryn heard the horse’s hooves upon the drawbridge clear,
Grabbed the reins of her dear Lordship’s horse, wi’ a heart sae filled wi’ fear,
“Where is my Lord, what’s happened, that his horse it has come hame,
And left me here in Whistleberry, and left me all alane.”

In the shadow of the moonlight, at the drawbridge by the moat,
His Lordship stumbled homewards with blood all on his coat,
Says he “My Lady Kathryn”, as he drew his dying breath,
“I maun die in peace in Whistleberry, in my lands of old Kinneff”

His head she kissed and cradled, in her lap and then she cried,
“Twas in this place called Whistleberry, we both did pledge we’d die,
But in old age, not this way, not to die so young in life,”
And she reached across his bloodied chest, and took out his hunting knife.

“Oh my noble Lord of Slains, I shall draw on my last breath,
I cannot bear to part from you, by this untimely death,”
She plunged his dagger deep, into her broken heart,
Saying “I am safe my Lord, now that we will never part.”

The drawbridge it lay down, ever since that fateful day,
As for the castle on the rock, time crumbled it away,
From the joy and laughter of, these lovers once sae merry,
Wind and rain now blaws a sad refrain, “cross the ruins o’ Whistleberry.

As you stand there in the mist and spray, on that promontory green,
Where two lover’s played out their lives, in one last fateful scene,
I swear that on yon caul’ east wind, you can hear his hound and hawk,
Keeping constant vigil o’er them both, on the Whistleberry Rock.

Ramsay © copyright August 2009