Hermitage Castle: Lord Soulis the Evil Sorcerer

In the windswept moorlands of the Scottish Borders, where the hills roll endlessly under skies that seem perpetually threatening, stands a fortress that seems to have grown from the dark earth itself. Hermitage Castle is not beautiful. It was never meant to be. Its massive walls rise sheer and forbidding, without the decorative elements that soften other medieval strongholds. There are no ornate windows, no elegant towers, no concessions to comfort or aesthetics. Hermitage was built for one purpose: to dominate, to intimidate, to survive. For centuries it guarded a key route between Scotland and England, witnessing endless border warfare, brutal sieges, political murders, and acts of cruelty that stained its stones with suffering. But among all the violence that marked its history, one name stands above the rest in infamy—William de Soulis, the lord who ruled here in the early 14th century, whose cruelty and alleged practice of dark magic made him one of medieval Scotland’s most feared figures. The locals finally rose against him, seized him, and boiled him alive in a cauldron on a nearby stone circle. His dying screams, they say, echoed across the moors. And his malevolent spirit has haunted Hermitage Castle ever since, making it what many consider the most genuinely terrifying haunted location in Scotland—a place where evil itself seems to have taken up permanent residence.

The Castle

Hermitage Castle was built around 1240, originally as a wooden structure replaced with stone in the late thirteenth century. It was designed to guard Liddesdale, a key route between Scotland and England, controlling the wild border country where law was whatever the strongest imposed. The castle is massively built, with sheer walls rising from the moorland, minimal windows and decoration, and flying arches connecting the corner towers to create an oppressive, cage-like appearance. The architecture speaks of paranoia, of a place expecting constant attack and prepared to inflict suffering on those who came against it.

Hermitage stands alone on the moors, with no village, no neighbors, and no witnesses. The nearest settlement is miles away, and the landscape is bleak, windswept, and empty, with the sky seeming heavier here than elsewhere. The isolation was intentional. What happened at Hermitage stayed at Hermitage. Today the castle is a ruin managed by Historic Environment Scotland, its walls still standing to full height while the internal structures have collapsed. But the atmosphere remains, perhaps intensified by the decay. The castle was always grim; now it is grim and crumbling.

William de Soulis

The de Soulis family held Hermitage in the early fourteenth century as powerful Border lords with authority of life and death over their tenants. William de Soulis inherited this power and used it in ways that horrified even his brutal era, earning him the name “Bad Lord Soulis,” a designation that considerably understates his evil. He ruled through terror, torturing prisoners for entertainment, kidnapping local children supposedly for dark rituals, starving captives in his dungeon, working peasants to death, and killing anyone who displeased him. His cruelty appeared to have no limits.

Contemporary accounts and later legends accused Soulis of practicing black magic. He supposedly kept a demon familiar known as Robin Redcap, a malevolent spirit bound to his service that dyed its cap in human blood, fresh blood regularly replenished from Soulis’s many victims. Legend says Soulis made a pact with dark forces, performing rituals in the castle’s depths and sacrificing innocents to gain supernatural protection. He believed himself invulnerable, protected by the demons he served, boasting that no weapon could harm him and no prison could hold him, that he was beyond human justice.

The local population finally could bear no more and appealed to King Robert the Bruce, begging for relief from Soulis’s tyranny. The king, occupied with wars against England and weary of hearing about Border troubles, gave a response that became legendary: “Boil him if you must, but let me hear no more of him.” Whether he meant it literally is debated, but the people took him at his word.

The Execution

The king’s words, real or attributed, gave permission. The local people rose against Soulis, stormed Hermitage Castle, overwhelmed his guards, captured the tyrant lord, and prepared a fitting end for a man who had practiced such cruelty. A great cauldron was brought to the Nine Stane Rig, a stone circle near the castle. The location was deliberate: if Soulis had used dark magic, perhaps the old stones could counter it, or perhaps the people simply wanted witnesses, even if those witnesses were ancient stones.

Soulis had boasted that no weapon could harm him, and his pact may have specified steel or iron. The mob found a loophole. They wrapped him in lead, metal but not a weapon, which would conduct the heat and cook him alive without violating whatever dark bargain protected him. The cauldron was filled with water and set over a roaring fire. Soulis, wrapped in lead, was lowered in. The water heated slowly. His screams began, and continued, and echoed across the moors until finally they stopped.

Those screams, they say, never fully faded. They soaked into the earth, the stones, and the air. On certain nights, they can still be heard drifting across the empty moorland: the sound of a man boiling alive, the justice of the oppressed, the end of a tyrant, and the beginning of a haunting.

The Haunting

The most powerful haunting at Hermitage is the spirit of Lord Soulis himself. He manifests as a dark, oppressive presence felt throughout the castle but especially in the dungeons and the tower rooms where he conducted his tortures and performed his rituals. When he appears visually, he is a dark figure in medieval dress with a face often indistinct or shadowed, but the sense of malevolence is unmistakable. He has been seen standing at windows, walking through the courtyard, and descending into the dungeons, always watching.

The most common experience at Hermitage is overwhelming dread, a terror that seems to come from the walls themselves. Visitors report sudden panic and the desperate need to flee. Certain chambers are unbearable, and people have run from them screaming, unable to explain why. Throughout the castle, visitors report being watched by something hostile, something that does not want them there, or perhaps something that does want them for purposes they cannot imagine. The watching is malevolent and predatory.

The Screaming

One of Hermitage’s most documented phenomena is the sound of screaming on the moorland, particularly around the Nine Stane Rig where Soulis was executed. The screams are distant but distinct, a man’s voice in agony, the sound that marked his death replaying eternally. They occur most often at night, during storms, when the wind howls across the moors, and some say on specific anniversaries. The screams seem to emanate from the stone circle and echo across the empty moorland, reaching the castle walls and sometimes seeming to come from within, as if Soulis screams from multiple locations simultaneously: his death, his castle, his entire domain haunted by the same sound.

Those who hear the screams report lasting psychological effects: nightmares that persist for weeks and a sense of having touched something evil. The screams seem to mark their listeners, to follow them home. Soulis may be dead, but his suffering continues to spread.

Other Spirits

Hermitage holds more than one ghost. In 1342, Sir William Douglas seized his rival Sir Alexander Ramsay and imprisoned him in Hermitage’s dungeon, a pit with no light, no food, and no water. Ramsay survived for seventeen days, eating grain that fell through the floor above, until finally he starved to death. His ghost haunts the dungeon still, appearing as an emaciated figure, desperate and starving, reaching and clutching at visitors as if begging for food. The sense of hunger accompanies him, and visitors feel starving even after eating. His seventeen-day torment continues.

Some say Mary, Queen of Scots returns to Hermitage as well. In 1566, she rode twenty-five miles through driving rain to visit the wounded Earl of Bothwell at the castle, nearly dying from the journey. The visit fueled rumors of their affair and helped bring about her ruin. Her ghost is reportedly a woman on horseback, riding through the storm, coming to see a lover who brought her destruction.

Soldiers from various eras have been reported in the castle and on the surrounding moors, armored figures moving in formation. The dead defenders still man the walls, and the dead attackers still advance, eternal warfare on the border.

The Atmosphere

The castle’s oppressive atmosphere arises from multiple sources working in combination. The architecture was designed to intimidate, with massive sheer walls, minimal openings, and cage-like flying arches creating a sense of imprisonment whether within or without. The moorland location amplifies the menace, with no other buildings, no distractions, just the castle rising from empty land under perpetually threatening skies, and a landscape that feels hostile, as if the earth remembers what happened here and has not forgiven. Centuries of violent history have accumulated, layer upon layer of suffering, each leaving its mark until the castle became saturated, a sponge that absorbed horror and now slowly releases it. Together, architecture, location, and history create something more than the sum of their parts. Hermitage feels actively malevolent, not just haunted but hostile, as if the castle itself wishes harm on those who enter.

Investigating Hermitage

Multiple paranormal groups have investigated Hermitage with consistently dramatic results, including high levels of activity across multiple measurement types, EVPs capturing voices, photographs showing anomalies, temperature fluctuations, and electromagnetic disturbances. The challenges are significant: access is limited through Historic Environment Scotland, the remote location complicates logistics, the weather can be severe, and the psychological pressure is intense. Investigators have had to withdraw, overwhelmed by what they encountered, as the castle does not welcome scrutiny.

The findings suggest multiple entities are present, with Soulis as the dominant presence, Ramsay as a secondary and more pitiful spirit, and soldiers and other figures appearing at random. The castle seems to have its own consciousness, responding to visitors, testing them, and perhaps feeding on their fear. Investigators advise against visiting Hermitage alone or at night without preparation, warning that the castle affects people differently. Some are merely unsettled while others are profoundly disturbed, and Hermitage has a way of revealing things about visitors they may not wish to know.

The Stone Circle

The Nine Stane Rig, a stone circle near Hermitage that is possibly Bronze Age in origin, was where the cauldron was set and Soulis was boiled alive. The nine stones arranged in a ring witnessed his death, and perhaps something of him remains there. The stone circle has its own energy, separate from but connected to the castle. Some find it peaceful, a relief from the castle’s oppression, while others find it worse, as the site of violent death where the screaming still echoes. The screaming is most clearly heard here, temperature drops occur within the circle, electronic equipment malfunctions, and some visitors report seeing the execution itself: the crowd, the cauldron, the wrapped figure, a vision of medieval justice replaying for those sensitive enough to perceive it.

Visiting Hermitage

Hermitage Castle is managed by Historic Environment Scotland and open to visitors during daylight hours in season. The site is remote, and visitors should plan their journey carefully, as the nearest facilities are miles away. A single-track road leads to the castle through atmospheric moorland before the fortress appears suddenly, rising from the empty landscape. Even in bright daylight, the castle is oppressive, with walls towering overhead and interior spaces that are dark and cramped. Visitors are advised not to mock or challenge the spirits, as Soulis was evil in life and remains dangerous. The dungeons should not be entered alone, and anyone who feels the need to leave should do so without hesitation. Hermitage affects people, and visitors should be prepared to be affected.

The Evil That Remains

William de Soulis was a monster in life—a cruel lord who tortured, murdered, and supposedly practiced dark magic in the depths of Hermitage Castle. When the local people finally rose against him, their vengeance was as terrible as his crimes. They boiled him alive, wrapped in lead, on the ancient stones of Nine Stane Rig. His dying screams echoed across the moors, and something of those screams never faded.

Hermitage Castle has been called the most sinister castle in Scotland, and those who visit understand why. It is not just the architecture, though the massive, brooding walls contribute to the atmosphere. It is not just the location, though the isolated moorland setting amplifies the castle’s menace. It is something more—something that has accumulated over centuries of violence and cruelty, something concentrated in those dark stones, something that watches and waits and perhaps still hungers for the suffering it was fed for so long.

Lord Soulis haunts his castle still. His dark presence fills the dungeons where he tortured his victims, the towers where he performed his rituals, the courtyards where his servants lived in terror. Sir Alexander Ramsay haunts the pit where he starved to death, still desperate for food after nearly seven centuries. Soldiers from forgotten battles still man the walls. And across the moors, on nights when the wind is right, you can still hear the screaming—the sound of a tyrant dying in a cauldron, the sound of justice served, the sound that has echoed across the Scottish Borders for over seven hundred years.

Hermitage Castle is not a place to visit lightly. It tests those who enter, confronts them with something ancient and malevolent, and leaves marks that do not easily fade. It is a place where evil took root and where evil remains, where the boundary between past and present seems thinner than elsewhere, where the dead are not gone but merely waiting.

Lord Soulis boasted that no weapon could harm him. He was wrong about that. But he may have been right about something else: that the darkness he served would outlast his death, that his presence would never fully leave the castle he made infamous, that Hermitage would remember him forever.

The castle remembers. And what remembers can never truly die.

Sources

• Wikipedia search: “Hermitage Castle: Lord Soulis the Evil Sorcerer”
• Historic England — Listed Buildings — Register of historic sites