On September 17, 2025, archaeologists announced the remarkable discovery of a long-lost castle on the Hebridean isle of Islay, a find that has cast new light on the turbulent and independent history of western Scotland. The fortress, which lay forgotten for centuries, is nestled across two small islands in Loch Finlaggan and is believed to date back more than 700 years, according to a detailed account published by the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland.
The site has been at the heart of nearly three decades of painstaking study. Archaeologists, led by Dr David Caldwell, have spent almost 30 years unraveling the secrets of Finlaggan to better understand its role in the Lordship of the Isles and the region’s earlier history. As Dr Caldwell put it, “The processing of all the data that was gathered has been a major part of my life since the 1990s. I hope I have not only provided an account of interest but also a basis for others to carry out more research in the future.”
The castle’s remains, which date from the 12th and 13th centuries, actually predate the emergence of the Lords of the Isles as a major force. Yet, they set the stage for the rise of the MacDonald clan chiefs, who would eventually become the Lords of the Isles and transform Finlaggan into their seat of power. These rulers, descended from the 12th-century prince Somerled, held sway over vast swathes of territory: the Hebrides, Argyll, parts of the north-west Highlands, and even the Glens of Antrim. At their zenith, MacDonald influence stretched up the Great Glen to Ross-shire, beyond to Buchan and the Mearns, and south to Greenan in Ayrshire.
What made these lords so extraordinary was their autonomy. Operating almost independently of the Scottish crown, they carried out their own raids—sometimes even on the mainland. The chronicles record a particularly bold attack on Urquhart Castle on Loch Ness, underscoring their reach and ambition. Their independence was not just military but administrative and judicial as well, with the Lords of the Isles issuing land charters and delivering legal judgments from their island stronghold.
Loch Finlaggan itself is a site of immense historical resonance. Just a few miles southwest of Port Askaig, the loch contains three islands of significance: Eilean Mòr (the Large Island), Eilean na Comhairle (the Council Island), and a third lesser-known isle. The newly uncovered castle spanned two of these islands. On one stood a large rectangular stone tower, reminiscent of keeps found in English castles such as Carlisle, Bamburgh, and Lancaster. This robust structure provided living quarters and security, while the second island featured a courtyard with kitchens, a great hall for feasting, and a chapel with a burial ground.
Experts have noted the architectural echoes of Anglo-French kings in Britain and Ireland, who often built rectangular towers as symbols of wealth and power. The Finlaggan tower, in its time, would have stood as a proud statement of the Lords’ status and aspirations. According to the published findings, the castle may have met its end due to structural weakness or perhaps as a casualty of enemy attacks, with a more refined palace later constructed on the same site for the Lord of the Isles.
The inauguration ceremonies of the MacDonald Lords of the Isles were central to the islands’ significance. Once confirmed in his Lordship, the new ruler would convene with his privy councillors on Eilean na Comhairle to discuss governance and issue land charters—two of which have survived to the present day. The Lord also presided over legal matters from this island, reinforcing the symbolic and administrative heart of the Lordship. These acts were not mere formalities; they were the lifeblood of a kingdom that, for generations, balanced on the knife-edge between independence and integration with the Scottish crown.
The archaeological journey that led to this rediscovery began in earnest in 1989, with fieldwork and research continuing through 1998 and beyond. The meticulous analysis of the site’s layers has provided a window into the daily lives of its inhabitants. The castle’s design—with its living quarters, kitchens, great hall, and chapel—speaks to a society that valued both defense and display, ritual and revelry. The presence of a burial ground adjacent to the chapel suggests a continuity of spiritual and communal life, even as the political fortunes of the Lords waxed and waned.
Dr Helen Spencer, head of research at the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, highlighted the broader mission of the organization: “Our aim is to share knowledge of the past as widely as possible.” The publication of the findings in the book Archaeology of Finlaggan, Islay ensures that the story of this forgotten castle, and the world it once anchored, will reach far beyond the shores of Islay.
For the people of Islay and Scotland at large, the rediscovery of the Finlaggan castle is more than an archaeological triumph—it’s a reclamation of a chapter of national history that had slipped into obscurity. The Lords of the Isles, for all their ambition and independence, left few enduring monuments. Their power was as much about presence and ceremony as it was about stone and mortar. Yet, the castle’s foundations, now brought to light after centuries of silence, offer tangible proof of a time when the western seaboard of Scotland was ruled from islands that seemed, at least for a while, to stand apart from the mainland’s tides of power.
Today, as visitors stand on the windswept shores of Loch Finlaggan, they can imagine the great feasts and councils that once filled the air with voices of authority and ambition. The discovery reminds us that history is never truly lost—just waiting beneath the surface, ready to be uncovered by those with the patience to look and the curiosity to ask what stories the stones might tell.
The castle’s fate—a probable collapse or destruction in the face of adversity—mirrors the fortunes of the Lords themselves, who eventually yielded to the centralizing power of the Scottish crown. Still, the legacy of their independence lingers in the landscape, and now, thanks to decades of dedicated research, in the historical record as well.
The rediscovery of the Finlaggan castle is a testament to the enduring allure of Scotland’s past and the determination of those who seek to bring it into the light. As Dr Caldwell and his team have shown, the past may be buried, but it is never truly gone—only waiting for its story to be told anew.
