Location: Sutherland Map
Keiss Castle, perched precariously on sheer cliffs overlooking Sinclair’s Bay in Caithness, Scotland, is a partially ruined yet strikingly picturesque tower house that embodies the rugged charm of the northern Highlands. Located less than a mile north of Keiss village, near the northern tip of mainland Scotland, it stands as a testament to the Sinclair family’s historical dominance in the region. Built in the late 16th or early 17th century, this Z-plan fortress reflects the architectural ingenuity and defensive needs of its time, though its crumbling state today—due to coastal erosion and centuries of neglect—adds a haunting allure to its story.
Keiss Castle’s origins are tied to George Sinclair, 5th Earl of
Caithness (1582–1643), a powerful figure in northern Scotland whose
family controlled vast lands, including the earldoms of Caithness and
Orkney. Likely constructed between 1590 and 1620—possibly on the site of
an earlier fort known as “Raddar” (though no firm evidence survives)—the
castle served as a secondary stronghold to assert Sinclair authority
over Sinclair’s Bay. Its first recorded mention comes in 1623, when
James VI commissioned Sir Robert Gordon to lead an armed force into
Caithness to quell Sinclair unrest, suggesting the castle was already a
significant presence.
George, known for his ambition, built Keiss
as a Z-plan tower house, a design favored in Scotland for blending
defense with residence. Unlike the nearby Castle Sinclair Girnigoe,
Keiss was smaller and less militarized, hinting it was more a status
symbol than a frontline fortress. The Sinclairs’ control over Caithness
was often contested by clans like the Gunns and Sutherlands, but Keiss
saw little direct conflict, its cliffside perch deterring land-based
assaults.
The castle passed through generations of Sinclairs, with George, 6th
Earl (d. 1676), shifting focus to Thurso Castle as his primary
residence, allowing Keiss to decay. By 1698, John, 7th Earl, died there,
but records from 1700 describe it as “ruinous,” suggesting rapid
deterioration. A 1726 report notes repairs and a “convenient house
lately built” nearby, possibly a lean-to for tenants, but the tower
itself was abandoned.
In 1710, Sir William Sinclair of Dunbeath,
a branch of the family, acquired Keiss and its lands. Facing financial
strain, he sold Dunbeath in 1752 and began constructing a new mansion,
Keiss House (later called “New Keiss Castle”), about 200 meters inland,
completed around 1755. The old castle, obsolete amid changing military
technology and architectural tastes, was left to the elements, its
cliff-edge location accelerating its ruin as storms battered its
foundations.
By the 19th century, Keiss Castle was a romantic ruin, its skeletal
towers inspiring antiquarian interest. In 1860, Colonel K. Macleay, then
owner of Keiss House, hired architect David Bryce to remodel the new
castle into a Scottish Baronial mansion, incorporating stone possibly
quarried from the old ruins. Sold to the Duke of Portland in 1866, the
estate remained private, with the old castle fenced off within its
grounds.
Coastal erosion has since claimed parts of the
structure, with a significant collapse in the 20th century narrowing its
footprint. Unlike Castle Sinclair Girnigoe, Keiss lacks a formal
preservation trust, but its status as a Scheduled Ancient Monument
(designated by Historic Environment Scotland) protects it from
development. As of April 11, 2025, it remains a fragile relic, its
future uncertain as the North Sea encroaches, yet its haunting
silhouette endures along the North Coast 500 route.
Keiss Castle is a classic Z-plan tower house, a Scottish design featuring a rectangular central block flanked by two round towers at diagonally opposite corners. Built of local Caithness flagstone—a dark, layered sandstone—its compact layout maximized its cliffside site, offering both defense and a noble residence.
The castle originally stood four stories tall, plus an attic, atop a
vaulted basement:
Basement: The vaulted cellar, partially rock-cut
due to the sloping terrain, housed a kitchen with a wide fireplace and a
small chamber, possibly a storeroom. A spiral stair in one tower rose
from here, though its lower steps are now lost to collapse.
First
Floor: The hall, about 8 x 4 meters, served as the main living space,
entered via an external stair (now gone). Small windows and shot-holes
pierced its thin walls (just over 1 meter thick), suggesting minimal
fortification compared to thicker-walled peers like Girnigoe.
Upper
Floors: Private chambers occupied the second and third floors, with the
attic likely used for servants or storage. The stair-tower’s square
caphouse, crowned with a conical roof, provided access, while a bartizan
(overhanging turret) on the north corner added a decorative flourish.
Towers: The two round towers, one with the main stair and the other a
solid mass, framed the central block. Tall chimneystacks, now stumps,
crowned the narrow main tower, emphasizing height over breadth.
Keiss’ design prioritized its seaward defense:
Cliffside Position:
Perched on a 30-meter (100-foot) cliff, it was impregnable from the bay,
with no need for elaborate landward defenses beyond a simple ditch (now
eroded).
Walls and Openings: The walls, unusually thin for a
fortress, lack the gun loops of later designs, suggesting it faced few
artillery threats. Small windows offered light but limited
vulnerability.
The castle’s interior once boasted modest
comforts—timber floors, plastered walls—but these have vanished, leaving
a hollow shell. Its Z-plan layout, while efficient, made it cramped,
with one chamber per floor, unlike the sprawling ranges of Glamis or
Eilean Donan.
Today, Keiss is a precarious ruin. The eastern tower teeters on the cliff edge, parts of the southern wall have fallen into the sea, and the western tower’s base is fractured. The basement vault remains intact, but upper floors are open to the sky, their timbers rotted away. Erosion has narrowed the promontory, and a retaining wall, added in the 20th century, prevents closer access, preserving what remains while highlighting its fragility.
Keiss Castle’s setting is as compelling as its structure:
Cliffside Promontory: The castle occupies a narrow headland jutting into
Sinclair’s Bay, surrounded on three sides by crashing waves. A small
cove below, reachable by a steep path, offers a rocky beach where
visitors stack cairns amid seaweed and driftwood.
Sinclair’s Bay:
Stretching south to Keiss village and Reiss Beach, this sandy arc
contrasts the cliffs’ starkness. Seals bask on offshore rocks, and
seabirds—puffins, guillemots—nest in the crags.
Approach: A ¾-mile
coastal path from Keiss harbour winds along the cliffs, passing Iron Age
brochs (Nybster and Whitegate) and offering sweeping views to Noss Head
Lighthouse and the Orkney horizon. Heather and gorse dot the hinterland,
with sheep grazing inland fields.
New Keiss Castle: The 18th-century
mansion, a harled Scottish Baronial pile with turrets and crow-stepped
gables, looms 200 meters west, its private grounds enclosing the old
ruins. The juxtaposition of old and new underscores Keiss’ layered
history.
No formal gardens survive, but the wild coastal
landscape—windswept, salt-sprayed—suits the castle’s raw aesthetic, its
isolation amplifying its romance.
Cultural and Social
Significance
Keiss Castle, though less storied than Glamis or Eilean
Donan, carries a quiet weight:
Sinclair Legacy: As a Sinclair
outpost, it reflects their northern empire, linking to Castle Sinclair
Girnigoe and Thurso Castle. While lacking Girnigoe’s infamy (e.g.,
“Wicked George’s” dungeons), Keiss shares their tale of feudal power and
decline.
Architectural Insight: Its Z-plan design offers a window
into late medieval Scotland, a practical blend of defense and
domesticity before artillery reshaped fortresses. Its thin walls and
cliff reliance highlight a shift toward symbolic rather than functional
strength.
Romantic Ruin: The castle’s decay, hastened by nature,
evokes the Romanticism of Sir Walter Scott’s era, its silhouette a muse
for artists and photographers along the North Coast 500.
Local
Identity: For Keiss village (pop. ~500), the castle is a landmark, its
ruins tied to fishing heritage and coastal resilience. Unlike
film-starred Doune or Eilean Donan, Keiss’ obscurity adds authenticity,
a hidden gem for explorers.
Its lack of ghost tales or royal visits
keeps it grounded, a relic of everyday nobility rather than grand drama,
though its cliff-edge peril stirs the imagination.
Located at ND 355 615, Keiss Castle is 8 miles north of Wick via the
A99, part of the North Coast 500. From Inverness (110 miles, 2.5 hours),
take the A9; Wick’s train station (4 hours from Inverness) is a
20-minute drive or taxi ride away. Park at Keiss harbour (KW1 4XD),
where a signed coastal path begins.
Access: Open year-round,
free, with no formal hours—visit during daylight, avoiding stormy days
when winds gust to 80 mph. The ¾-mile walk (15 minutes) from the harbour
is flat and easy, passing brochs and offering bay views, though muddy
after rain. Sturdy shoes are advised; the path suits most but lacks
wheelchair access beyond the cliff edge.
Experience:
Viewing:
A fence, due to cliff slippage, keeps visitors 10 meters from the ruins,
but the castle’s towers and chimneys are vivid against the sea.
Binoculars enhance details like weathered stonework or nesting birds.
Surroundings: Explore the cove below (steep descent, tide-dependent) or
linger at the harbour, where fishing boats bob. Nybster Broch, 0.5 miles
north, adds archaeological depth.
Amenities: No on-site facilities
exist; Wick offers cafés (e.g., Mackays Hotel) and shops. The harbour
has parking for 10–15 cars, free but busy in summer.
Highlights
include the castle’s leaning silhouette, the crash of waves below, and
Orkney’s faint outline on clear days. Nearby, Castle Sinclair Girnigoe
(3 miles north) and John o’ Groats (10 miles) complement a Caithness
tour.
Keiss faces existential threats:
Coastal Erosion: The North Sea
has eroded 2–3 meters of cliff since 1900, with parts of the southern
tower lost. Rising sea levels and storms accelerate this, and full
collapse is inevitable without massive intervention.
Structural
Decay: Unroofed since 1755, the castle’s stonework crumbles under rain
and salt spray. No Trust actively preserves it, unlike Girnigoe, though
its Scheduled status bars interference.
Access Limits: Safety fencing
restricts exploration, balancing preservation with public interest. No
funds support stabilization, leaving Keiss to nature’s mercy.
Its
ruinous state, while perilous, enhances its charm, a monument to time’s
relentless march.