What's the story behind decaying Aldbar chapel near Brechin?

As I gaze up at the decaying ruins of Aldbar Chapel, I struggle to imagine that people used to flock from far and wide to worship here.

Today, the chapel is in a sorry state, its roof having collapsed, and the interior and exterior being taken over by trees and vegetation.

You get the sense that very few people come here – it’s in a secluded spot, buried deep in the woods, in an enchanting den, with nothing to herald its existence.

And yet it’s only a few miles from the bustling town of Brechin.

How do you find Aldbar Chapel?

I parked up beside two huge entrance pillars and what was once presumably the main gatehouse to Aldbar estate.

A quick peek inside reveals the remains of an old fireplace, and a huge window, possibly to afford the gatekeeper an easy view of those who approached.

The old entrance and gatehouse to Aldbar estate. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

I know roughly where I’m going, and after navigating a series of woodland paths, the chapel and graveyard come into view.

And, oh my – it’s truly like stepping into another world.

Initially my eye is drawn to a stone archway covered in moss and ivy which leads to a bridge over a tinkling stream.

An ivy-covered archway near Aldbar Chapel. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

But I’m keen to check out the abandoned chapel before straying too far.

What’s the story of the old chapel?

The story goes that the chapel was already in a ruinous condition when it was rebuilt as a mortuary chapel in 1853 by the Chalmers family, who owned Aldbar estate.

Apparently the exact dimensions of the 13th Century chapel were used – as was as much as possible of the existing stonework.

Aldbar Chapel and kirkyard. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

The studded wooden door remains locked, but the windows, devoid of glass, with the exception of one, which still has a few shards, gape open.

I don’t contemplate climbing through a window – the interior of the chapel, with rotting timbers hanging on by threads, and the risk of falling masonry, is not somewhere you want to be.

It’s enough just to peer through the windows.

What is there to see?

Vines of ivy drape down walls, and curved wooden beams lean at jaunty angles.

You can still make out a series of stone ‘corbels’, which are more or less structural brackets, and a strange square-shaped stone with a hole and an ‘X’ attached to a wall.

A peek through a window into the decaying ruins of Aldbar Chapel. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

I wander round the old building, letting the feel of this special place sink in.

I’m obsessed by the door, which has a huge keyhole, and, on further inspection, reveals the initials PC (presumably Patrick Chalmers) on the ironwork, along with the date 1853.

The studded wooden door remains locked. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

A bizarre passageway takes you behind the building, and, as I walk along it, I wonder what it was for.

Exploring the graveyard

The old graveyard is hugely atmospheric. I find tombstones from the 1800s, moss doing its best to preserve the epitaphs hidden beneath.

A huge marble gravestone is a memorial to John Inglis Chalmers in 1868. And others include an impressive recumbent one from 1854.

An old marble cross at the heart of Aldbar burial ground. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

Along with a Pictish cross-slab which stood in the burial ground of the chapel until 1842, a baptismal font was relocated to Brechin Cathedral.

A small 13th Century grave slab from the chapel, thought to have been for a child, is held by the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh.

It’s engraved with the calvary cross and a knight’s sword.

A moss-covered tombstone at Aldbar Chapel. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

It’s fascinating to think of this peaceful, isolated spot, once being filled with the sounds of music and prayer.

Newspaper reports on Aldbar Chapel

A report in the Brechin Advertiser on July 12, 1892, stated: “On Sunday afternoon Rev. D. Hepburn Brown, of St Andrew’s Episcopal Church, conducted the first of a series of services in the quaint little chapel in the Den of Aldbar.

“The chapel was crowded, many coming from a considerable distance. Mrs Chalmers, Aldbar Castle, presided at the harmonium.”

Decaying Aldbar Chapel has been taken over by nature. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

An article in the Montrose Standard on October 27, 1893, mentioned choir boys assisting in the singing of several harvest hymns.

It stated: “As usual the quaint little chapel was very tastefully ornamented with fruit, flowers, etc.”

Like heading into Narnia…

Leaving the chapel behind, I cross, as if into Narnia, through the archway and over the stone bridge, with little idea of where I’m going or what I might find.

A path leads up into the Den of Aldbar, and I walk along a wooden boardwalk, with the stream running alongside me, until it deteriorates and becomes unsafe.

I gasp as I set eyes on clusters of bright red and cup-shaped fungi growing on damp branches and logs.

An internet search later reveals this is the evocatively-named Scarlet Elf Cup.

I’m on the hunt for an abandoned folly a friend who visited told me about – but his description of how to locate it was slightly flimsy.

Wandering through dense woodland, I reach first a stone, and then an iron, bridge.

Abandoned Aldbar Chapel. Image: Gayle Ritchie.

It’s at this point that I make the mistake of turning back.

Had I carried on, I’m sure I’d have found the folly, which, my friend informs me, is high on a wooded hillside, and looks like something out of a fairytale, with pillars and stone carvings.