The splendid building called the Parliament Hall indicates by its style of architecture that it belongs to a period corresponding to the reign of James III., and tradition is doubtless correct in ascribing its design to the ill-fated Cochrane who was hanged by the nobles at Lauder Bridge. This great hall unfortunately suffered at the hands of the military authorities when they converted it into barracks towards the end of the eighteenth century, but even with all its defacements it is still a building of noble proportions. Taylor, the Water-Poet, who saw it in 1618, wrote that “it surpasses all the halls for dwelling-houses that ever I saw, for length, breadth, height and strength of building.” On the east and west sides the windows have been ruthlessly modernised, but those in the south end remain unaltered, showing their simple moulding and remarkable deep recesses. The oriel facing east, towards the south end of the hall, preserves much of its former beauty, its most interesting features being the interlacing of the moulded jambs of the now built-up side lights. The tower on the east side containing the stair is still a prominent feature of the building, although it is not now crowned by its steep-pitched conical roof. A covered passage formerly extended along the west side of the edifice, but—like the majority of the figures that filled the niches on the walls—it has not survived the harsh treatment to which the Parliament Hall was subjected. The corners of this great pile were formerly adorned with turrets, but these with the rest of the building were allowed to go to decay, and were removed when the hall was repaired for use as barracks. The stones of the south gable bear numerous scars like bullet-marks, which possibly date from the siege of 1746. The Highlanders on that occasion climbed to the roofs of the houses in the town, and thence discharged their small arms at the fortress that so resolutely kept at bay the enemies of King George.
PORTCULLIS IN JAMES IV.’S GATEWAY.
The portcullis gateway leading to the lower courtyard from the outer works was erected by James IV.[92] This fore-entry is not now so imposing as it was in the days of the Stewart sovereigns, for instead of the two stumps of towers now remaining there were formerly four high bastion-like structures. This part of the castle received some damage from the guns of General Monk, but although the towers suffered at the time of the siege, they were standing many years afterwards. Gradually, however, they crumbled into ruins until repairs were undertaken to prevent further decay at about the beginning of the nineteenth century. The lowest chamber in each of these great towers was a dark and noisome dungeon. The vaulted passage of the gateway was provided at both the outer and the inner ends with portcullises, one of which still hangs in the small archway at the side of the principal entrance.
It has been thought that the Palace, the most important part of Stirling Castle, owes its origin to James IV. True, it is always spoken of as James V.’s building, but several extracts from the Treasurer’s Accounts have led many to believe that the work was begun by the knight-errant monarch who fell on Flodden Field. Certainly, in 1496, Walter and John Merlioun, masons, were employed on the King’s house in Stirling, and in the following year the master-mason of Linlithgow rode over to give his advice. If the Palace, however, had been merely begun by James IV. the Treasurer’s Accounts would not have contained references to glass for the windows and to other furnishings for a nearly furnished building;[93] and it is obvious by the style of the architecture, which is the earliest Renaissance work in Scotland, that the work could not have been completed before the fifth James succeeded to the throne. The house that was being erected by John and Walter Merlioun may have been the tower called the Keep, an older and plainer edifice than the Palace to which it has been joined.
This building, then, was raised in the time of James V., the monarch during whose troubled reign the Renaissance style was introduced. The King’s visit to France for his marriage with Princess Madeleine in 1537, may have increased his interest in the architecture of the day, but the royal dwelling at Stirling was probably designed before the date of that alliance, as Sir James Hamilton of Finnart, who was James’s principal architect, and who is known to have worked at Stirling Castle,[94] had seen the French Renaissance structures twenty years before.
JAMES V. AS “THE GUDEMAN O’ BALLENGEICH.”
The Palace is an ornate edifice, showing a blending of the Gothic and the Classical designs. It is roughly in the form of a square, having a courtyard in the middle called the Lions’ Den, where tradition says the royal animals were caged. The third and fourth Jameses certainly owned lions, and it is likely that their successor kept a specimen of the King of Beasts as much for his amusement as for an emblem of royal power. On the exterior of the Palace, between the windows—each of which is surmounted by a stone showing I 5 for James V.—are shallow niches containing ornamental pillars supporting statues which are now much defaced. The figure at the north-east corner of the building is thought to represent the King disguised as the “Gudeman o’ Ballengeich,” as above the head a lion holds the crown and a tablet inscribed I 5. Running round three sides of the Palace is an elaborately-carved cornice, upon which rests a series of short pillars, each one intended to bear a small statue, although some on the north are wanting. Towards the west the building presents an unfinished appearance; obviously it was meant to have additions on that side. The interior of the Palace has been greatly changed since the days of James V., but one or two noble fire-places still exist in the rooms that are now given over to the soldiers. More than one ancient door studded with iron has survived the alterations; but the beautiful carved oak panels, representing members of the Royal Family and persons about the Court, and known as the Stirling Heads, were removed towards the end of the eighteenth century because one of them fell from its place in the ceiling and seriously injured a soldier. Tradition asserts, doubtless with truth, that the gratings were placed in the windows for the protection of young James VI., in the stormy days when raids on Stirling were events against which it was well to be guarded.
