Author Keith Durham discusses the Strongholds of the Border Reivers

Keith Durham lives in Northumberland and is the author of Men-at-Arms 279: The Border Reivers and New Vanguard 47: Viking Longship. He is also a skilled and respected sculptor of historical miniatures and has produced master figures for a number of companies including Poste Militaire.

His latest book, Fortress 70: Strongholds of the Border Reivers is out now.

‘Wha Daur Meddle Wi’ Me?’

For anyone writing an Osprey title, one of the most difficult decisions to make is not what to include but what to leave out. For me, this was particularly true whilst working on Strongholds of the Border Reivers. Fortunately, with the advent of the Osprey blog an author now has the chance to post up material that he would have liked to include, but which lack of space made impossible.

So, for want of a better expression, here is the ‘director’s cut’ of the section that dealt with ‘Hermitage Castle, The Strength of Liddesdale’.

Being at the forefront of Anglo-Scottish warfare for almost four centuries, most of the larger Border strongholds frequently modified and updated their defences in order to withstand the rigours of assault and siege. One of the most awesome and certainly the most sinister in appearance was Hermitage Castle, which stood just 6 miles from the Border in an isolated part of Liddesdale, perhaps the most turbulent valley in the Borderland.

A Scottish nobleman, Nicholas de Soules, first built a motte and bailey castle on the site of the present castle around 1240 and in the mid 14th century, Hermitage became the property of Hugh de Dacre, a Cumbrian nobleman. Around 1360, Dacre replaced the earth and timber stronghold with a stone built, fortified manor house, which became the nucleus of the present castle. In 1371, the castle fell into the hands of William, Earl of Douglas, a powerful Scottish noble, who transformed Dacre’s manor house into the massive and forbidding central tower that we see today. By around 1400, four rectangular corner towers had been added, creating an unusual H-plan structure that was equipped with rows of doorways set high in its walls from which a bretasche, or removable timber fighting platform, could be deployed. The entrance to the fortress was at first floor level in the Kitchen Tower, which as its name suggests, contained a well-provisioned kitchen along with a number comfortable rooms and private chambers for the lord of the castle. The Well Tower was equipped with a postern gate and a well, whilst the lower floors of the Prison Tower were fitted out with two prisons, one of which was a grim little pit, devoid of light or sanitation.

In the 16th century, Hermitage’s defences were adapted for artillery and a V-shaped gun platform, or ravelin, was erected immediately to the west of the castle. Gun loops were inserted around the walls and the old entrance in the west wall was blocked up, being replaced by a smaller doorway in the south wall.

Perhaps Hermitage Castle’s most notorious resident was James Hepburn, 4th Earl of Bothwell, third husband to Mary, Queen of Scots and probable murderer of her second husband, Lord Darnley. Holding the position of Lieutenant Warden of the Marches and Lord High Admiral of Scotland, Bothwell was described as ‘a man sold to all wickedness’. As Keeper of Liddesdale, Bothwell was more often than not in cahoots with the wicked residents whose lawless behaviour he had been appointed to suppress. On occasion, however, he had to present the face of law and order and in 1566, he rode out of Hermitage at the head of 300 men and rounded up some of the worst ‘limmers’ of Liddesdale.

Having locked these miscreants up in Hermitage, whilst out patrolling shortly afterwards, Bothwell ‘chancit upon ane thief callit Johne Eluat’ (Little Jock Elliot) and schot him with ane dag’. However, when Bothwell approached the fallen reiver, Little Jock turned on him, inflicting upon the Keeper ‘thrie woundis, ane in the bodie, ane in the heid, and ane in the hand’.  Although badly wounded in the thigh, Little Jock appears to have made good his escape. When Bothwell was eventually found by his men and carried on a litter back to Hermitage, his misfortune deepened when the fortress was found to be under the control of the ‘thievis and malefactouris of Liddesdale’ who had been recently incarcerated there and had subsequently broken out and taken over the castle. Amidst much embarrassment on Bothwell’s part, a bargain was struck, the former prisoners were allowed to go free and the humiliated Keeper was carried into his castle. It would appear that the incident stirred up a hornet’s nest in Liddesdale and it was reported that ‘Gif he had not gotten in at that tyme he and all his company (would have) been slane’.

It was at this point that Mary, Queen of Scots ‘despising all commodities of the way and weather and all danger of thieves’ made her celebrated 50 mile journey from Jedburgh to see Bothwell, which almost resulted in her death when, due to exposure, she contracted a serious illness. Ever the villain, Bothwell repaid the doomed Queen’s affection by deserting her at the Battle of Carberry Hill and fled into exile and imprisonment, never to return.
The Elliots, however, continued to thrive and Little Jock’s confrontation with Bothwell was celebrated throughout the Border country, his exploits enshrined in one of the most famous Border Ballads, ‘Little Jock Elliot’

I ride on my fleet-footed grey,
My sword hanging doun by my knee,
My name is Little Jock Elliot,
And who daur meddle wi’ me’
I’ve vanquished the Queen’s Lieutenant,
And garr’d her troopers flee,
My name is Little Jock Elliot,
And who daur meddle wi’ me.