Stirling - The Gateway to Scotland

Rear building of Stirling Castle

Thursday saw us on a trip to Stirling Castle and mastering the intricacies of the Waverley Station.  Which was quite a bit easier than anticipated.  Of course, our tickets had already been purchased for us, so that was likely to have been the hardest part, anyway.

The town of Stirling is built on steep, winding cobblestone roads that seem to meander off in all directions.  It’s a very old place; described as being the gateway to Scotland.  It is where battles were fought, lost and won.  Even in death the two armies are separated.  In the old cemetery atop the hill beside the castle, the English are buried on one side, the Scottish on the other.  In one section of the grounds, some are laid out as if creating a stone dance.  It just may be.

The castle itself is amazing.  I never expected that it would be almost another small town unto itself, though perhaps I should have.  Everything needed to be self-sufficient is there, from barracks to breweries, stables and laundries to the living quarters of the royals.  Walls surround the site with walkways to watch over the town and any approaching armies.  The wind, when it comes up, finds every nook and cranny to peer into.   It is not a place I’d choose to live, especially in the winter months.

Cell in the new jail in Stirling

The town jail was the next and last stop for the day, except for the getting home part.  This jail was actually the new jail.  The old was the tollbooth, named as the worst prison in “England”.  And so the new one was built; modelled on advanced thinking and rehabilitation.  There are only 57 cells in the new jail and each holds only the one prisoner. The have a bed and a chamber pot.  Supposedly heaven, compared to the twenty-five in a single cell with not a pot to pee in they were housed in before.  Nor were they segregated in the Tollbooth; men, women and children were tossed in to make do as best they could.

I was surprised and queried the reason for so few cells.  Given everything I had read about crime and punishment (no pun intended) at that time, I had thought that far more cells would have been needed.  More often than not, prisoners were shipped out of the country on a regular basis to Australia or a myriad number of other countries.  Canada, the warden kindly pointed out, got very few.  Likely because the English had other plans for us.