Upon the exposed promontory of Fraserburgh, a domineering symbol of grandeur and status was transformed into a beacon of hope for those traversing the dangerous waters of the North Sea. This is the story of a late medieval castle which became home to Scotland’s legacy of light keeping and way finding.
Kinnaird Head Castle was begun in the spring of 1570 by Sir Alexander Fraser, 8th Lord of Philorth. It is not certain why the Frasers built a castle in this area which was exposed to all weathers and conditions but with the benefit of hindsight one could say it was a shrewd business decision as the construction of the castle and investment in the surrounding village of Faithlie saw it rapidly grow into the bustling port of Fraserburgh we know today. Perhaps, Sir Alexander saw the opportunities presented by the north east’s growing trade with continental Europe and the thriving fish markets coupled with the importance of Kinnaird Head for ships trying to navigate the rugged shoulder of Aberdeenshire. In any case the estate was a success despite the financial difficulties faced by the Frasers during the construction which forced them to sell their family home at Philorth Castle in 1613. Of some fame, Alexander 10th laird of Philorth was a veteran of the Wars of the Three Kingdoms and had fought on the Royalist side at the battle of Worcester (1651) and despite being very badly wounded he survived into his eighties. In 1669 he was made Lord Saltoun and spent much of his later life residing in personal apartments at Kinnaird Head Castle.i
The site of Kinnaird Head has seen much change over the years but a small tower dating to the 16th century remains on the grounds of the main castle. Dubbed the wine tower, presumably for its associations as a store for the castle, this three-storey structure contains a chamber with seven carved stone pendant bosses. These decorative pieces of heraldry commemorate the spiritual, political and dynastic affiliations of the Fraser family. It was rumoured that this space was built this way to serve as a secret chapel for the Catholic wife of one of the Protestant Lords. The tower also carries a local legend connected to Isobel, daughter of the founding Alexander Fraser. So the story says, Isobel fell in love with a lowly piper much to her father’s disdain. Fraser had the piper tied up and imprisoned in the cave below the tower and his daughter locked away in its third-floor chamber to keep them apart. That night there was a terrible storm that brought with it an abnormally high tide and the poor piper drowned. On hearing of her lover’s demise, Isobel climbed onto the roof of the tower and threw herself to the rocks below. Local tradition has ensured a regular splash of red paint be left on the rocks to mark the spot of her untimely death and some passers-by claim to have seen her ghost as an omen for an approaching storm.ii
By the latter half of the 18th century Kinnaird Head Castle was nearing its end as a stately residence and it was instead leased to the Northern Lighthouse Board in 1786 who had chosen the old central tower to be one of its first four lighthouses. Featuring a very large lamp effectively plopped onto the roof of the castle, Kinnaird Head became Scotland’s very first mainland lighthouse when it was lit in 1787 by its designer Thomas Smith the Chief Engineer of the Northern Lighthouse Board. The first lamp had the strongest beam of its day. Its seventeen reflectors were placed in three horizontal tiers, providing a visibility range of twelve miles.iii
However, at that point in time the old castle was near two hundred years and signs of structural damage began to show as the years wore on. In 1823 the famous lighthouse engineer Robert Stevenson, stepson of the aforementioned Thomas Smith and grandfather to the writer Robert Louis Stevenson, was commissioned to rebuild the lighthouse at Kinnaird Head. Stevenson advocated for the complete demolition of the site and the erection of a purpose-built structure, only stopped from this egregious crime against Scotland’s built heritage by another famous writer, Sir Walter Scott. Scott had accompanied
Stevenson on a trip around Scotland onboard the vessel of the Northern Lighthouse Board, Pharos. Presumably, Scott’s wisdom imparted on this trip convinced Stevenson to leave the castle tower intact and instead clear away the ancillary buildings to make way for modern living spaces for lighthouse keepers and their families.iv
Work undertaken on the tower included: the strengthening of its foundations, the removal of the flooring except for the stone-vaulted basement, new doors and windows, the removal of the entire top level and the addition of a new purpose-built lantern enclosure. The new lantern contained silvered copper parabolic bowls which burned Spermaceti, the oil from a sperm whale which burned brighter and longer than others available at the time. Saving the best until last, the finest addition to the tower was by far the beautiful spiral staircase running up through the core of the castle leading to the lantern.v
During its years of operation until 1991 the lantern was adapted and replaced by succeeding generations of Stevenson engineers. Notably the flashing lens apparatus of David Alan Stevenson. Installed in 1902 this hyperradiant Fresnel lens emitted a bright white flash every fifteen seconds and had a range of up to 27 miles. Furthermore, a foghorn was installed in 1903 capable of a seven second blast every ninety seconds. The horn operated until 1987 when it was discontinued.
In 1991, the New Kinnaird Head Lighthouse was constructed and began operating adjacent to the original building. This structure consists of a cylindrical tower with balcony and lantern. For context, the first iteration of the castle tower lantern emitted a beam which measured at 980 candelas. Candela being the SI unit of luminous intensity, which measures the perceived brightness of a light source. The new lantern emits a beam of 690,000 candelas.
With the new lighthouse in place the original lighthouse now forms part of the Museum of Scottish Lighthouses. This fantastic resource tells the story of the Northern Lighthouse Board, the engineers who designed the lights and the keepers who maintained them. The museum is greatly recommended but for those that require a bit of convincing here are some of the stories that are brought to life by the museum …
The Building of Bell Rockvi
The museum houses an excellent collection of personal effects belonging to the engineers and lightkeepers employed by the Northern Lighthouse Board. Some of the most interesting come from the period in which the Bell Rock Lighthouse was under construction.
Before the arrival of Robert Stevenson, the rock had claimed many ships and their crew due to the long periods of the day during which it sits just beneath the surface. According to the locals Bell Rock was named for the bell that was placed there by the Abbot of Arbroath Abbey as a warning to ships coming into port, only for it to be stolen a short while after by a pirate. A tale immortalised in literature by Robert Southey in his poem “The Inchcape Rock”. The pirate who had removed the bell fell victim to his own antics on return to Scotland and wrecked himself on Bell Rock.
After the wreck of the warship HMS York on the rock in 1804 with no survivors, Parliament passed legislation to allow engineer John Rennie to begin work on a lighthouse to the design and spec of Robert Stevenson. Stevenson set out in 1807 with 60 hired men to begin the construction. Since the rock is covered by the sea for up to twenty hours a day the men had to begin the work living on a ship anchored a mile from the rock. Rowing to and from the site each day was time consuming and so one of the first projects was to build a barrack house on tall wooden struts in the middle of the reef. The barracks were completed in early 1808 and the first three levels of stone for the lighthouse had been laid in the same period. As work continued into 1809 Stevenson, despite being the subordinate, was growing tired of the interference of John Rennie and to prevent further interruptions bombarded him with letters and questions related to the design to keep him occupied. Rennie dutifully answered each of the 82 known letters, making many unique suggestions … all of which Stevenson ignored. In 1810, Bell Rock lighthouse was finally completed coming in well over the £42,000 estimated budget (£2,924,071 in April 2025) and made of more than two and half thousand granite stones all drawn by the same loyal horse, Bassey. On February 1st, 1811, the light shone for the first time and continues to do so today, albeit automated in 1988.
War Comes to the Lighthousevii
Fair Isle, situated between Orkney and Shetland, received two lights one on each of its extremities in 1892. The lighthouse optic from Fair Isle South can be seen today preserved at the Museum of Scottish Lighthouses alongside much of its written history.
One such episode comes from the Second World War during which lighthouses became a target for the Luftwaffe due to their importance for the safe passage of allied shipping. Fair Isle South was sadly the victim of two fatal attacks by German aircraft.
First, in December 1941 the living quarters situated at the base of the lighthouse tower were struck by machine gun fire killing Mrs Catherine Sutherland, wife of the assistant keeper, and wounding their infant daughter.
Then shortly afterwards in the January of 1942 the lighthouse was attacked again, this time by bombers. Ordinance tore through the housing killing Mrs Margaret Smith, wife of the Principal Keeper, and their young daughter Greta who was only ten years of age. Royal Artillery man William Morris was also killed while manning an air defence gun.
After the second attack Roderick MacAulay, a keeper at Fair Isle North, walked through a blizzard and gale force winds to restore the light before the following night’s service.
In 1998, the Museum of Scottish Lighthouses and the Northern Lighthouse Board placed a commemorative plaque at the station to remember the lives lost.
The Murder in the Lighthouseviii
On 18 August 1960, a banker Thomas Collin and his young son David had taken a dinghy out to explore the bay around Little Ross Island just south of Kirkcudbright. A trip they would never forget. When they arrived on the island it was eerily quiet with no sign of the lighthouse keepers, tentatively they began to search the buildings of the commanding whitewashed lighthouse. Thomas emerged from one of the buildings and called to his son ‘Get help if you can, there is a man ill in his bed’. That man was 63-year-old relief keeper Hugh Clark, and his malady was a bullet wound to the head.
With his assistant keeper Robert Dickson nowhere to be seen, the twenty-year-old ex-Navy man from Edinburgh became the prime suspect in a manhunt that stretched 250 miles to Selby in Yorkshire. Dickson had fled the scene in the deceased man’s car, crashed in Dumfries and rented another before heading south to Selby. It was there that police arrested him and uncovered a sawn-off rifle and a sum of £81 in the vehicle.
The motive behind the murder has remained somewhat unclear but the prevailing theory points to a psychotic break with Dickson showing signs of paranoia and irrational behaviour. Dickson was convicted of murder and initially sentenced to death by hanging. However, his sentence was commuted to life imprisonment just days before the scheduled execution.
The murder also had a lasting impact on the future of lighthouses in Scotland. It is said that the case sped up the process of automation to limit the dangers of isolating two men in remote, high stress environments. Little Ross was automated in 1961, just a year after the incident. Newspaper clippings and other items associated with this dramatic episode can be found in the museum.
Final Thoughts
In conclusion, the story of Kinnaird Head is more than just a tale of architectural transformation—it is a vivid chronicle of Scotland’s maritime legacy. From noble stronghold to pioneering lighthouse and now a beacon of history as the Museum of Scottish Lighthouses, Kinnaird Head stands as a powerful symbol of innovation, resilience, and the enduring connection between land and sea. Whether you’re a history enthusiast, a maritime admirer, or simply a curious traveller, a visit to this remarkable site offers not just sweeping coastal views, but a journey through centuries of Scottish heritage illuminated in a whole new light.
Written by C. James McPherson MA MSc & D. John McPherson
Photos: GBC (April 2025)
i John Cranna, Fraserburgh: Past and Present, (Aberdeen: The Rosemount Press, 1914).
ii I.B.D Bryce, The Wine Tower, Fraserburgh (1987).
iii R.W. Munro, Scottish Lighthouses, (Lewis: Thule Press, 1979).
iv Bella Bathurst, The Lighthouse Stevensons, (New York: Harper Collins, 1999).
v F. Baker, ‘Kinnaird Head Castle and Lighthouse (Fraserburgh parish), castle and lighthouse’, Discovery Excav Scot, 1998.
vi Robert Louis Stevenson, Robert Stevenson’s Account of the Building of the Bell Rock Lighthouse, (Whitby: Caedmon, 1887).
vii Samuel Sjoberg, Air Raid Islands: The Luftwaffe Over Shetland During World Ward Two. (2020)
viii Daily Record November 29th, 1960. British Newspaper Archive.