A brief history of the Stone of Destiny

Scone Palace has been in William’s family for 400 years and as such he’s perfectly placed to discuss it and its important connection to the stone as he takes us on a tour of the palace's sumptuous interior. It was here in around 840 AD that Kenneth MacAlpin, the first King of Scots, chose to make Scone the centre of his kingdom.

My first question is how the stone ended up here and where it came from. The oldest legends traced it to the Holy Land, identifying it as the ‘Jacob’s Stone’ of the Bible. There’s even a colourful myth set in Ireland involving an Ancient Egyptian princess. However, geological research suggests that it was mined locally to Scone sometime after the 12th century. So why was it deemed such an important part of our coronation ceremony? According to William:

“The stone has this lingering reputation without anyone really understanding it fully. It has this international mystique. It's hard for us modern people to understand how this lump of rock can have so much power and significance.”

The most convincing theory, he explains, is that Scone was a place for gathering and decision making for a very long time and held great importance to many different pre-Christian groups. And so, melding together ancient Pictish and Gaelic traditions, Kenneth made the stone part of the inauguration ceremony at Scone, giving legitimacy to what was then the young, fledgling realm of Scotland.

Here it was used in the coronations of 42 Scottish Kings over four centuries until 1296 when it was seized by Edward I of England (the bad guy in Braveheart) during his infamous invasion of the country. Spellbound by its reputed mystical power, he whisked the stone back to Westminster Abbey.

It remained at Scone until its daring recapture by an intrepid group of Scottish students in 1950. Over the following decades, it moved back and forth across the Anglo-Scots border before coming to rest at Edinburgh Castle.

We head outside and make our way to Moot Hill in the grounds of Scone. The fact that Edward was so set on obtaining the stone speaks volumes, claims William. Not content with possessing it, he was determined to wipe Scone from the map entirely, petitioning the Pope to dissolve what was then Scone Abbey. This suggests that while the stone was a key ingredient in the inauguration ritual, it appears Scone, and more specifically Moot Hill, were just as vital.

I learn more about the fascinating lore surrounding Moot Hill and its relationship with the stone. Simply put, both were required to give your coronation legitimacy. It’s said its name derives from “boot” referring to an ancient ceremony that may even predate the stone. When a new ruler was anointed, various chieftains from around the land would arrive with a little bit of soil in their boots from their respective domains. Over time these piles of earth formed the “hill”.

“When someone made their vows to the Scottish people and key decisions were made, they were done so by someone standing on a bit of earth that quite literally represents all of Scotland – and that I find really cool.”

We arrive at the spot, the calls of the estate’s resident peacocks sounding all around. Modest and unassuming – much like the stone itself, it’s likely that Moot Hill served as an important ceremonial role during Pictish times and the early Christian era. Located just over the Tay was the Roman fort of Bertha, where 8,000 Roman soldiers were stationed. William sites this as further evidence of Scone’s strategic and political significance, both for the region’s indigenous tribes and the Roman occupiers.

With all this this in mind, it feels all the more special that visitors are free to actually sit (on a replica of the stone) on Moot Hill, a spot that for so long occupied a profoundly sacred role in Scotland and the wider UK’s history – a place that predates the idea of modern royalty and of Scotland itself.

You could easily spend all day taking in Scone Palace and its gorgeous estate but Perth Museum calls. It’s time to see the real thing.

Learn more about Scone Palace. 

Familiar with the edifice of the former Perth City Hall, stepping inside what is now Perth Museum feels akin to entering the Tardis. Taking care to preserve as much of the building’s period detail as possible, the result is a cavernous exterior brimming with a vast collection of local artefacts acquired from the 1700s onwards.

After my visit to Scone Palace, finally casting eyes on the symbolic block inside its atmospherically lit chamber feels especially meaningful. An animated video charting the stone’s storied past echoes many of the fascinating details relayed during my tour of Scone.

Other exhibits offer up other surprising connections to Scone. About 3,000 years ago the trunk of a whole oak tree was taken and hollowed out it to make the Carpow Logboat that sailed on the Tay, the remnant of which is now on display. The intricate parquet flooring of the Long Hall at Scone walked by Queen Victoria and Charles II features fragments of a similar ancient dark wood dredged up from the river.

Other personal highlights include the replica of Georgina Ballantine’s 64Ib salmon – the largest ever caught in a British river by rod and line, Bonnie Prince Charlie’s sword, and charming childhood pencil drawings by Beatrix Potter.