Stuart Beattie of Rosslyn Chapel
Built in 1446 by Sir William St. Clair, Prince of Orkney, the temple is also known as The Bible in Stone or the Chapel of the Grail. Nestled in Scotland’s Roslin Glen woods, the chapel is a scenic 30-minute bus ride from downtown Edinburgh. An ornately-carved 15th century medieval structure, Rosslyn stands at nearly 41-feet on a plateau surrounded by lush vegetation. Far below, the North Esk River makes its way through a gorge toward the Firth of Forth.
It’s a warm day in the village of Roslin and I’ve come to meet with Beattie to learn more about his work. We’ve settled on a bench in the church’s garden. As I look up at the scaffolding that wraps the entire chapel, the importance of Beattie’s work comes into focus. This sandstone structure withstood the Reformation during the 16th century, as a revolt against principal Christian beliefs swept across Western Europe. It later served as a barn for Oliver Cromwell’s troops in 1650, as they besieged nearby Rosslyn Castle. By 1689, the church fell into an abandoned status after it was pillaged and burned by a Protestant mob from Edinburgh. It remained overgrown with vegetation and tucked away in the woods until 1736 when James St. Clair began restorations. Today, both Rosslyn Castle and Rosslyn Temple remain under the ownership of the St. Clair or Sinklir family, which is now spelled Sinclair.
After surviving such turbulent history, Rosslyn is now a functioning Episcopalian Church entrenched in a struggle against the elements. “Rosslyn is magical, mysterious and world renowned,” says Beattie. “It needs to be preserved for the future.” Attempts to seal the stone with a mixture of silica fluoride of magnesium in the 1950s did more damage than good. “Soluble pollutants and condensation were locked inside the stone,” Beattie explains. In an attempt to reverse the damage, a protective steel canopy was erected over the church in 1997 to allow the stones to dry out.
Beattie never anticipated he’d one day work for Rosslyn. “I enjoyed growing up on a farm with its freedom and independence. I must have had an assumption I would go into farming,” said Beattie. “I couldn’t see myself working in an office environment.”
After graduating from Cambridge, Beattie married his sweetheart in 1973. They began their married life in Aberdeen, where he secured work in agricultural research. The couple remained in Aberdeen until 1985, when Beattie accepted a job at the Roslin Institute. “Business skills translate all over,” said Beattie. For the next 10 years, he devoted his skills to managing research funds at the Roslin Biocentre where Dolly was the first sheep to be cloned 1998.
While working at the Roslin Institute, Beattie and his family became familiar faces in the village of Roslin. When the Rosslyn Chapel Trust was created in 1995, Beattie was quickly nominated for the position. “I jumped at the idea,” says Beattie, who already had a ten-year relationship of worship at the chapel.
Because Rosslyn is both an architectural and historic interest, it is registered with Historic Scotland, even though it’s privately owned. This means that it falls under listed building control, which requires any alterations to the exterior or interior must first meet with approval from the planning authority in the interest of preserving the chapel’s character.
Beattie, who oversees all strategy and implementation, spends much of his time working with teams of experts and directors, diligently and painstakingly charting out a restoration map. “For every problem, we’ll come up with ten solutions and of those, maybe four are viable. After that, it’s a matter of selecting the most appropriate solution,” says Beattie. “Without a doubt, the chapel is world renowned, but its problems are every day problems,” he chuckles. “One minute I’m buying teabags and toilet rolls for the staff and the next I’m scheduled to meet with a design team. This job has an interesting mix of working with the public, finances and building problemsâÂ?¦elements that make it fun.”
Beattie is also quick to credit his employees. “They don’t just work for the money we pay them. They’re part of Rosslyn. From one end to the other, there is a sense of ownership. We all do our work with love and devotion, which ensures our decisions are correct. It’s an attitude. We want to ensure every visitor experience is complete.”
Archaeological folklore lures thousands of visitors to Rosslyn Chapel every year. Many speculate sealed vaults below the floor hold holy relics, including the cross on which Jesus was crucified, missing dead sea scrolls, the Ark of Covenant, the Holy Grail, and even the head and blood of Christ. Others believe the residents of Roslin are the descendants of Mary of Magdalene and carvings within the temple, if they are understood, tell the entire story in stone. From the Apprentice Pillar with its spirals that seem to mimic DNA, to a ceiling carved full of stars and flowers, no two people interpret their meaning or importance in the same way.
While it is true there is a vault beneath the chapel, it hasn’t been used since 1650 when a member of the Sinclair family, after dying on a battlefield in Dunbar, was sealed within. It can be assumed the secrets within the vault are no less than 355 years old. Since evidence suggests Rosslyn may have been used as a scriptorium at one point, some experts speculate the vault was used to store manuscripts and old records. In recent years, especially since the release of Dan Brown’s book The Da Vinci Code, some enthusiastic readers would like to see the vault and surrounding grounds excavated. Others would prefer a less invasive method of exploration, such as using radar to create a 3D virtual model of the space below the floor. But for every vote to open the vault there is another against it. Does the public have a right to know what’s inside a privately-owned vault? As the debate heats up, visitors are flocking to Rosslyn in record numbers. “Most visitors are content to say I believe there is something under the floor,” says Beattie.
Between September 26 & 29, Director Ron Howard is scheduled to film The Da Vinci Code using Rosslyn as a backdrop. Extra security has been put in place to hold back any would-be protestors. Brown’s novel, which has already sold more than 17 million copies worldwide, claims the Catholic Church is responsible for concealing the truth about Jesus and his marriage to Mary Magdalene. And in Brown’s book, Rosslyn Chapel holds the truth. The problem is that many readers have become confused between truth and fiction, an issue which has raised the eyebrows of many historians and sparked some to publicly debunk Brown’s claims. But regardless of the reasons visitors pass through Rosslyn, Beattie and his staff are eager to listen to new views. “Rosslyn is different things to different people and we are sensitive to that,” says Beattie. “People come here for a whole raft of reasons. I wish I had the time to devote to research like some of our visitors.”
While the world debates the importance of Rosslyn, Beattie remains more concerned about preserving the chapel than discovering what might be beneath it. Working with a team of devoted experts, he’s certain their restorative efforts are going to stand the test of time. “Rosslyn hasn’t been sitting here all these years, waiting for us to come along to restore her,” says Beattie. “Over the years, everyone has done their part to help. It’s just this time we are arrogant enough to believe we’re getting it right. After seeing what others have done and learning from itâÂ?¦after doing our researchâÂ?¦we believe we’re getting it right.”
As our conversation comes to a close, we stand at the front entrance of the chapel while tourists begin arriving outside the gate. “Rosslyn is like a lovely old woman who can no longer get around so well,” Beattie says as we gaze up at the architecture. “She needs someone to wash her face and so we do it gently and lovingly and in time, it will be others who will do the job.”
When asked how he’d like to be remembered for his time at Rosslyn, Beattie humbly replied, “Having not got it wrong. I’m paranoid of failure,” he says in a serious tone. After pondering for a moment, he smiles and adds “The nicest thing would be for someone to come back 15 years from now and ask what happened to that, short, stubby man that used to work here?”
