Holyrood Abbey: The Stag, the Cross and the Royal Vault

Why is it significant?

Lift your eyes to the broken west front of the abbey beside the palace tower, its pointed doorway still lined with carved arcades, and behind it a roofless nave of tall arches open to the sky. Grass grows where the floor once was, and birds sit on the empty window ledges.

Key Facts

PlaceHolyrood Abbey: The Stag, the Cross and the Royal Vault
AddressPalace of Holyroodhouse, Canongate, Edinburgh EH8 8DX, UK
Geo Coordinates55.95320, -3.17130
Part of WalkCrowns, Kirks and Sanctuary: Edinburgh's Canongate and the Palace of Holyroodhouse
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Lift your eyes to the broken west front of the abbey beside the palace tower, its pointed doorway still lined with carved arcades, and behind it a roofless nave of tall arches open to the sky. Grass grows where the floor once was, and birds sit on the empty window ledges. This ruin is the reason the palace, the Canongate and even the word Holyrood exist at all.

The legend goes like this. In 1128 King David I went hunting on the feast of the Holy Cross, against the advice of his confessor. In the forest below the crags, a great stag knocked him from his horse and was about to gore him, when a cross appeared between its antlers and the beast fled. In thanks, David founded an abbey of the Holy Rood, the holy cross, on this spot. The antlers on Canongate Kirk are that stag.

Kings were born, married, crowned and buried here. James II was born in the abbey in 1430, married Mary of Guelders here in 1449, and was laid to rest here in 1460. James IV married Margaret Tudor here in 1503, and Charles I was crowned in this church in 1633. In the royal vault lie David II, James V and Lord Darnley, along with the bones brought from Trinity College Kirk, said to be Mary of Guelders.

Then the ruin began. When James VII made the nave his Catholic Chapel Royal, an anti-Catholic mob stormed it in December 1688 and broke into the royal tombs. In 1758 a heavy new stone roof was laid on the old, weakened walls, and ten years later, in 1768, it came crashing down. Nobody ever rebuilt it.

The Romantics adored it. In the summer of 1829 the young composer Felix Mendelssohn wandered into this roofless chapel at dusk and wrote that he had found there the beginning of his Scottish Symphony. Stand still for a moment and you may hear what he meant. Now walk back out past the palace gates to Abbey Strand and turn right into Abbeyhill, where a tiny stone building leans against the old garden wall.

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