It even sounds like the title of a romantic novel.
This is the kind of story we love with a passion.
It encapsulates everything that is good about Scotland, and all
that is bad, in the same breath.
It is wonderful and it is shite. Romance tinged
with desperation. Defiance with hopelessness.
THE GATES OF TRAQUAIR HOUSE
WILL NEVER RE-OPEN UNTIL A STUART KING IS RESTORED TO
THE THRONE.
 |
| The Gates of Traquair -
FirstFoot thinks that the daft old bugger just
lost the keys. |
|
So vowed the Jacobite Fifth Earl
of Traquair confidently, shutting them for the last time
one late autumn day in 1745 after waving his distinguished
guest, the , goodbye.
Little did he know, of course, that the
Stuart, or Jacobite cause was fated to die once and for
all on the bleak moor of Culloden in April 1746 and so,
closed they have most firmly remained to this very day.
Great stuff. But frankly it's a wee tantrum that
ain't ever going to have much effect now.
 |
| Bonnie Prince Charlie on
one of the few occasions that he was sober |
|
The Windsor dynasty shows few signs
of caving in.
As threats go, it's a bit like Britain
telling the US Senate that we're shutting Portobello Beach
indefinitely until they agree to give us America back.
Traquair House, just outside Peebles, is an exceptionally
beautiful place and well worth a visit, if only to sample the
quite excellent beer that is now brewed and sold on the premises.
But remember, thanks to the 5th Earl and his big
mouth, you'll have to use the tradesmen's entrance like everyone
else.
