CASE No.4| DEMONS OF LOCH NESS: The Divine and Diabolical in the Scottish Highlands
The mythical beast said to roam the dark depths of a Scottish lake has drawn scientists of the modern era for a century. But is this ancient creature really a demon summoned by the other monster of Loch Ness? The demon banished by a saint centuries before?
Transcript of podcast narration:
The rugged Highlands of Scotland surely comprise one of the most mystical places on earth. Craggy hills and heather-clad moors embrace crumbling ruins and ritual stonescapes, all standing sentinel over deep, brooding lochs and rivers. The scent of damp earth and wildflowers mingles with the tang of distant pine, birdsong weaving a delicate melody overhead. In odd moments, the call of a distant raven or wolf pierces the idyll, their haunting notes underscoring the natural symphony. As day transitions to night, the sky transforms into a celestial canvas, reminding all that this is a realm where nature reigns supreme.
All of it—from stars to stalking creatures—seem to be called to the shores of one ethereal site: the deep and ancient lake called “Loch Ness.”
The loch lies at the eastern end of Scotland’s Great Glen, running 23 miles from the city of Inverness to Fort Agustus, following the glacial Glen Fault line. The water of this storied body itself holds secrets, its depths shrouded in legend and lore. At times, it appears as a mirror, reflecting the changing moods of the sky above: from the soft blush of dawn to the fiery hues of sunset. Yet, when the mist descends, it becomes a realm of mystery, where imagination paints shapes and shadows in the shifting fog and roamers on its shores ponder its awesome depths of over 700 feet.
In the hills and hamlets around Loch Ness, time seems to flow differently, blending past and present into a seamless continuum. It is a place where the line between reality and myth blurs, inviting exploration and stirring the soul with eternal questions.
But one mystery towers over them all.
The Loch Ness Monster first gained worldwide attention in 1933, leading to varying levels of public interest and belief over time. Locals call the creature “Nessie,” feigning familiarity with a being whose very existence is largely anecdotal, consisting of numerous breathless accounts, disputed photographs and sonar readings. The scientific community typically attributes sightings of the monster to hoaxes, wishful thinking, and the misidentification of ordinary objects, while the pseudoscientific subculture of cryptozoology has faithfully stood by the truth of the legend.
The first modern sighting of a creature in Loch Ness took place one autumn around 1871, when a Mr. D. Mackenzie reported seeing an object resembling a log or an upturned boat moving in the water. The account, however, was not published until 1934, after the popularization of the monster. In 1888, Alexander Macdonald reported seeing a "large stubby-legged animal" in the loch, describing it as resembling a salamander.
The sighting that truly ignited public fascination occurred on the 15th of April, 1933, when Aldie Mackay saw an “enormous creature” in Loch Ness. Her report led to the widespread use of the term “Loch Ness Monster.”
That summer, George Spicer and his wife saw what they called "a most extraordinary form of animal" cross the road in front of their car, describing it as having a large body and a long, wavy neck. This sighting significantly contributed to the modern Loch Ness Monster legend. As autumn fell over the Highlands, the world began to take notice of sleepy Loch Ness and its environs when a local news agency published the Spicers’ sighting. This led to numerous additional letters to the editor and a flood of reports describing encounters with a "monster fish," "sea serpent," or "dragon." In short order, the name "Loch Ness Monster" would become imbedded in the public imagination.
And the reports were getting more startling. That same year of 1933, a man named Hugh Gray captured the first known photographic evidence of the monster, and the following winter, on the fifth of January, 1934, Arthur Grant claimed to have nearly hit the creature with his motorcycle. His description matched that of a plesiosaur-like animal, though skeptics suggested he may have seen an otter or seal. That same year, the famed "surgeon's photograph” was taken by Dr. Robert Kenneth Wilson: an image that remains the most recognized capture of the beast. Initially considered proof of the monster's existence, it was later revealed to be a hoax involving a toy submarine.
In 1938 A man named G.E. Taylor filmed an unidentified object in the loch for three minutes. His footage was pronounced by experts as inconclusive. In December of 1954, sonar readings taken by a fishing boat indicated a large object was following the vessel, adding more, however, to the mystery than its resolution.
In the spring of 2007, interest in the monster was sparked for a new millenium when Gordon Holmes videotaped a "jet black thing" moving in the water. Though initially hailed as some of the best footage, experts suggested it could be an otter, seal, or bird. Year later, in September of 2021, drone footage would capture a 20-ft creature near the loch.
A SPIRITUAL REALITY
What’s not as well known as Scotland’s infamous monster hunt is the claimed spiritual dimension of Loch Ness—indeed, of the whole area surrounding the Loch—, including the monster itself. In fact, stories both divine and demonic have swirled around reports of the beast and its Highlands home. Long, long before the first modern sightings of a water creature here, a Catholic saint became enmeshed in a firsthand encounter with the unmistakable but inexplicable local anomaly: the first known sighting of the Loch Ness Monster.
St. Columba was an Irish monk, missionary, and scholar who played a pivotal role in spreading Christianity in Scotland during the 6th century. Born on December 7, 521, in County Donegal, Columba was of royal descent. Hailing from one of the most influential clans in Ireland, he received an excellent education under the guidance of priests and monks, becoming well-versed in Christian theology, Latin, and the scriptures. As a young man, Columba was ordained as a deacon and later as a priest. His passion for Christianity and his charismatic leadership qualities were evident to all early on.
Columba founded several monasteries in Ireland, the most notable being those at Derry and Durrow. These monasteries became centers of learning and piety, contributing significantly to the religious and cultural development of the region. However, Columba’s life in Ireland was not without controversy. A dispute over a manuscript copy of the Psalter led to no less than a battle in 561, a conflict in which many lives were lost. Horrified at his instrumental role in the tragedy, Columba forced himself into self-imposed exile as penance. He resolved to spread Christianity beyond Ireland: to leave his homeland and never return.
And so, in 563, Columba, along with 12 of his monastic companions, traveled to the island of Iona, off the west coast of Scotland. Iona became the base for his missionary work, and the founding of an Abbey there marked the beginning of Columba’s efforts to convert the Picts, a pagan people. He quickly became fluent in the Pictish language and worked to understand their culture, enabling him to communicate effectively. Over time, Columba gained the respect and trust of even the Pictish king, which greatly facilitated the spread of Christianity in Scotland.
Columba’s formula for missionary work involved a a combination of diplomacy, the establishment of monastic communities . . . and miracles.
For Columba’s life was replete with miraculous events, as recorded by his hagiographer, Adomnán in The Life of St. Columba. One of his most renowned aspects was his ability to heal. He is said to have cured various ailments and diseases, bringing relief to many. His prayers and blessings were believed to have the power to heal not only physical but spiritual afflictions, drawing numerous followers and believers and inspiring huge swaths of conversions to the Catholic faith.
Columba was also known for his prophetic visions. He accurately predicted events, such as the outcomes of battles and the personal fates of individuals. Most astounding of all, Columba’s seemed to possess some kind of control over the natural elements: a power akin to that of the angels. Stories recount how he calmed storms, provided food during times of scarcity, and even influenced the behavior of animals. Indeed, many of his miracles closely mirror those performed by Christ Himself.
COLUMBA AND THE MONSTER
One of the most famous of these episodes was Columba’s encounter with a monster at Loch Ness—particularly the River Ness, which flows from it. This event which occurred in 565 AD, is the earliest recorded sighting of the legendary creature and has contributed significantly to the mythos surrounding Loch Ness. According to Adomnán’s account, Columba and his companions were traveling through the region when they came across a group of Picts. The natives were burying a man by the river. The Picts explained that the man had been attacked by a "water beast" while swimming, and despite their efforts to save him, he had succumbed to his injuries.
Columba, moved by the tragedy, decided to confront the beast. In what at first seemed a not very saintly action, he instructed one of the other monks to swim across the river to lure the creature. As the monk swam, the beast surfaced and charged toward him, roaring ferociously. The onlookers were terrified, fearing for the man’s life. Columba, however, remained calm and resolute. He raised his hand, made the Sign of the Cross, and invoked the name of God, commanding the creature to "go no further, nor touch the man; go back at once." Miraculously, the beast halted its attack, retreated into the depths of the river, and disappeared. The monk reached the shore unharmed, and the assembled Picts were astonished by what they had witnessed and moved by Columba’s holy power over the beast.
DEVILISH DROPS
In the many centuries that passed between St. Columba’s experience and the modern sightings of the monster, other lakes, rivers and streams of the Scottish Highlands veritably flowed with their own tales of ghosts, monsters and other supernatural beings. In a land still rife with pagan beliefs, they do even now.
Spirits known as kelpies are said to infest rivers and streams, and beings known as each-uisge reportedly dwelt in lochs or lakes and seas. These are purportedly not only stunningly beautiful creatures but equally vicious and deadly, disguising themselves as anything they wish. These beings especially like to take the form of horses and run their riders right into deep waters, drowning them and then devouring their corpses. Maids of the waves known as ceasg live in the seas. They are best known for granting wishes, teaching men to sail, . . . and then turning on them and leading them into storms . . . into the path of death.
Loch Ness itself is believed to have supernatural origins. Local pagans told of a being called Dark Beira, the goddess of winter and darkness. According to myth, she created the great bodies of water in the Highlands, including Loch Ness, which is named after one of Beira’s wayward servants, Nessa. Each year, Nessa is said to be heard singing from the depths of the loch, where she fled her mistress so long ago.
A HAUNTED LAND
Not only the waters of the Scottish Highlands are haunted by supernatural forces. Ghosts and other supernatural beings seem to populate every field and furrow.
The Battle of Culloden, which occurred in the spring of 1746 near Inverness, saw the bloody loss of thousands of Jacobite soldiers in under an hour. Even today, the Culloden Battlefield is known as one of the most haunted sites in Scotland. Each year, on the April 16th anniversary of the battle, the warriors can still be seen, in ghostly form, fighting the battle once more, their war cries and dying moans echoing across the moors.
On the outskirts of Inverness, not far from the battlefield, is Tomnahoorick Hill, believed to be infested with the dark spirits known for centuries as faeries, the Gentry and by other local names. One infamous legend of this hill claims that two fiddlers looking for work in desperation took a job playing at a fairy banquet. The man who hired them promised to pay in gold. The men played for the event and happily collected their fee, but when they returned home after, they found that a century had passed: All of their family and friends were dead and their cottages in crumbled ruins. The men sought help from their parish priest, but they disintegrated to ashes upon entering the church.
Aldoorie Castle, nestled on the southern shores of Loch Ness, is a place of both historic grandeur and dark legend. The castle, which dates back to the 17th century, has a long history intertwined with mystery and tales of the supernatural. Originally a laird's mansion, the castle underwent significant transformations and expansion over the centuries. Its stone walls have seen countless lives pass through, each leaving an indelible mark of suffering.
During the turbulent times of the Jacobite risings in the 18th century, the castle, like many Highland estates, found itself caught in the crossfire of political and military strife. The castle's remote location made it a potential hideout for Jacobite supporters, and it is said that many clandestine meetings and secret alliances were formed within its walls.
Among the most famous of the castle’s haunting tales is the legend of the Grey Lady, the resident female phantom. According to legend, she is the spirit of a young woman who met a tragic end within the castle. There are various versions of her story, but they all share common elements of love, betrayal, and heartbreak. One popular version of the tale suggests that the Grey Lady was a young woman who fell deeply in love with a man who did not reciprocate her feelings. Heartbroken and despondent, she is said to have taken her own life within the castle. Another version claims she was the victim of a tragic accident or foul play, leading to her untimely death. Regardless of the exact circumstances, her restless spirit is believed to linger in the castle, forever mourning her lost love and unfulfilled life. Visitors and staff at Aldoorie Castle have reported numerous eerie encounters believed to be the work of the Grey Lady. These hauntings typically occur in the older parts of the castle, particularly in the dimly lit corridors and the upper floors. Some of the most common phenomena include cold spots, apparitions and disembodied voices.
THIS CURSED PLACE
Despite these stirring tales of the supernatural throughout the Loch Ness region, without a doubt the most notorious is the place known as Boleskine, which includes a Loch-side burying ground and an old hunting lodge above. The cemetery is ancient, its silent stones watching above the water’s edge. Through the year, visitors come in search of it from around the world, most because of its dark history.
Part of that darkness is found in the headstone of Donald Fraser, which bears three holes that hearken back to a funeral that ended in a shooting. Boleskine graveyard lies directly on the military route between Fort Augustus and Inverness, two strongholds of the 18th-Century Hanoverian forces. In 1745, during a funeral near Fraser's grave, a military transport was passing by on the road. According to the story, one of the funeral attendees stole a loaf of bread from one of the transport’s carts and threw it to the dogs. This act of defiance provoked a dangerous response: The soldiers fired into the funeral party, hitting the stone which still bears evidence a haunting reminder of the centuries-old struggle.
But Boleskine graveyard offers far more disturbing history than this. Generations before Culloden, a wizard reportedly raised the dead from their shallow plots here. The actions caused so much terror, that a local minister named Thomas Houston took it upon himself to bring his dark work to an end. He matched wits with the wizard, managing to return the undead to their graves. Reverend Houston is buried in Boleskine graveyard, surrounded by the graves of those he returned to rest. The whereabouts of the wizard are unknown.
These haunting cemetery tales surely contribute to Boleskine’s reputation as a haunted locale. However, the biggest draw here for ghost hunters and supernatural adventurers is the low lying mansion above the graveyard. The structure was built on the site of an ancient church, which had—according to legend—burned to the ground, tragically killing most of the congregation trapped inside.
The mansion featured a line of owners before almost meeting a fiery end in 2015 at the hands of arsonists, including the man who, some believe, conjured up the Loch Ness Monster.
HOUSE OF THE DEVIL
Boleskine House was constructed in the 1760s by Colonel Archibald Fraser, who used it as a hunting lodge. His choice of the site was an act of spite against one Simon Fraser, who had (to the colonel’s irritation) supported the Hanoverian side of the Jacobite rising of 1745. The house includes four bedrooms, a kitchen, a servant’s bedroom above the kitchen, a lounge, drawing room and library. For some reason, there’s also a tunnel under the house that leads to the graveyard across the road.
Locals spin dark tales of the history of Boleskine dating to before the house’s erection, including that of a beheading on the property . You can hear the victim’s head rolling around the house even today, or so they say.
But the real darkness of Boleskine began at the very turn of the 19th century, when in 1899, the house became home to a man some call the other Loch Ness Monster: the English occultist Aleister Crowley. .
As someone involved since high school in the study of secret societies, religious history and parapsychology, I knew Crowley’s name well when I began to look into his life at Loch Ness some years ago now. I knew he was into “sex magick” and drugs, and that he fancied himself some kind of great occult master. I used to talk about Croley on the ghost tours I hosted in Chicago, because there’s a little tavern in Lincoln Park which some claim was a meeting place for a chapter of some 1920s Crowleyan club. But I didn’t know anything specific about his life story.
It was during the winter of 2020 that I learned about a lot of the things that Crowley did. In particular, I learned about the one big thing he did—in his infamous house in Scotland—and the other big thing he did—right here in the United States. Later, I would come to learn about a pair of very influential American occultists who counted themselves among his followers. Above all, I would learn about the connection of all of it to UFOs, though that’s a story for another day.
Crowley was born in 1875 in Leamington, England. The son of a wealthy brewer, he inherited a vast fortune while still in his early 20s. Having turned against his Christian upbringing, and with his every care met (at least at first), he spent the majority of his time traveling and probing the depths of the occult.
In 1898, after leaving Cambridge University, Crowley was initiated into the Order of the Golden Dawn, which included Bram Stoker and W.B. Yeats as members. Crowley soon found himself on the outs with many of his esoteric associates, who believed sobriety and self-control were crucial to the practice of arcane rituals. Crowley, however, loved drinking and drugs and, moreover, had a voracious sexual appetite, seeking out sex with women, men and, eventually, even animals. He would later write about engaging in sex acts with his lover and her infant children, though his followers and critics hotly debate whether these entries were descriptors of real events or products of his foul mind.
Crowley wrote that his first mystical experience had taken place an encounter with a man; the act, he claimed, had summoned some kind of deity. This belief led him to what would become an obsessive pursuit of spiritual growth through sex and the practice of “sex magick” to facilitate it.
Crowley’s rogue character made him an unpopular member of London’s occult elite. In just a few short years, he had burned bridge after bridge, because he did not care for rules, boundaries or any institution or person that told him what to do. In particular, Crowley tussled with the poet W. B. Yeats. Rumors flew that Crowley was using black magic on the poet, and some said Yeats responded with his own. Crowley was forever embroiled in some kind of conflict; even among freaks of the forbidden, he didn’t fit in.
And so, in 1899, Crowley left it all behind and bought the house on the shores of Scotland’s Loch Ness: the old hunting lodge known as Boleskine. He chose this house—as remote as a house could be—for a specific purpose. He planned to hunker down in the lonely fortress and attempt one of the most ambitious and dangerous rituals known in the occult world: the ancient Jewish Abramelin rite.
It’s said that Crowley loved the fact that the house seemed cursed, and he reveled in its dark influence. He listened to old tales of it from locals, who took to calling him “Lord Boleskine.” One day, Crowley witnessed the house’s curse firsthand when he returned from a hunting outing to find a Catholic priest waiting for him in the library. The priest reported that Crowley’s caretaker—a teetotaler—had gotten blind drunk and tried to kill his family. Not long after, a butcher filling an order for Crowley accidentally cut off his own hand. Later, other dark acts would occur in the house, including suicide.
Not long after moving in, Crowley began to prepare for the Abramelin. The ritual would take six months and result, he hoped, in the summoning of his “holy guardian angel.” In occultism, that’s not a God-given protector but one’s “higher self.” The ritual includes evoking the Twelve Kings and Dukes of Hell—including Satan himself—in order to bind them. Some experts in Crowley’s life believe he originally meant well: to bring these demons under his control and force them to do good.
But that’s not what happened.
Before beginning the major rite, Crowley sharpened his skills as an occultist, engaging in all manner of ritual practice to prepare for the Abramelin, reportedly summoning a number of angels, demons and other beings through minor rites while “warming up” for the big one. Some have posited that it was during these preparations for the Abramelin that Crowley also, perhaps unwittingly, conjured the legendary Loch Ness Monster: that Crowley had summoned it from the depths of the loch after hearing locals tell of the mythical and demonic beast.
After months of rituals, during which he claimed to see (according to plan) demonic beings assembling at Boleskine, Crowley was called away from the house by the Golden Dawn. A schism had broken out in the organization, and Crowley was needed at once. Without ending the ritual, he left.
Crowley had summoned demons at Boleskine House—and left the door open wide.
Some have wondered if the unfinished ritual at Boleskine was the reasoCrowley’n s life took such a deep dive into evil in the years that followed—or if his actions even impacted the wider world. The ritual would be connected later to the UFO phenomenon that broke over America in 1947. Buut again, that’s a story for another day.
A LUCIFERIAN LEGACY
Boleskine would hardly pass from infamy after Crowley’s departure in 1913.
Musician Jimmy Page, founder of the rock band Led Zeppelin, became obsessed with Crowley as a teenager, attracted to the “Great Beast”’s “Do What Thou Wilt” creed. He spent a good part of his substantial fortune acquiring Crowley collectibles, including clothing, magickal tools, books and writings. But his eyes were always on Boleskine, and in the early 1970s Page purchased the remains of the Loch Ness estate and set to restoring it to its Crowleyan glory. He even had it decorated with reproductions of the murals Crowley had painted on the walls of his diabolical monastery in Italy: a place so notorious that Mussolini threw Crowley out of the country.
Page would later flatly acknowledge the dark power of Boleskine. He said that visitors planning to make long stays quickly left, giving no explanation for their departures. And he was well aware of not only the dark events surrounding Crowley’s housekeeper and butcher, but also that the owner before Page, Major Edward Grant, had shot himself in Crowley’s former bedroom. Page publicly said that guests and staff often heard the sound of the man’s head rolling around the house: the man who had been beheaded on the site in some far distant past.
Though Page loved Boleskine House, his schedule allowed him to spend little time there, and he asked his friend, Malcolm Dent, to serve as its caretaker in Page’s absence. During that time, Dent said he was awakened one evening by the sound of what sounded like a wild beast growling outside his bedroom: a presence he called “very, very evil.”
FACING THE BEAST
As for the original monster of Loch Ness, some have sharply recognized a Crowley connection to the water beast . . . and have tried to break the power of both over the Loch Ness region.
In 1973, Dr. Donald Omand, a vicar, traveled to Loch Ness to attempt to exorcise Loch Ness to rid it of the thing he called an apparition, an evil spirit of the Loch: a demon. Not only did Ormand believe the monster was a diabolical entity; he said this spirit of the Loch was to blame not only for locals addictions to alcohol and drugs, but for drawing occults like Crowley and Page—and even that necromancing wizard—to Loch Ness in the first place. The monster, then, summoned Crowley to Loch Ness . . . and not the other way around.
Omand believed the demonic being of the loch was thousands or even millions of years old, and he said it wasn’t the only one. He referred to a lake in Sweden with its own demonic monster and claimed to have seen a similar beast himself in a fjord in the north of Norway. In these cases, too, he said, he’d observed an “injurious effect” on the people who saw the beasts or went looking for them. He observed how some would become obsessed with the beings, turning their backs on all else and seeing the loss of jobs and friends and the failure of their relationships, including longtime marriages.
After his exorcism of Loch Ness in 1973, Rev. Omand vowed to continue his crusade against other water demons throughout Europe. As for whether his attempt to banish the demon of Loch Ness (and its evil pull) was successful, it seems doubtful that it was.
In April of 2019, the Boleskine estate—including the ruins of the house—was divided into four lots and put up for sale. In the two years that followed, Kyra and Keither Readdy purchased the lots and set up a foundation to restore the house. A week after buying the property, another fire broke out in Boleskine, credited to arson. To help raise the extra money needed for the restoration, the foundation announced for sale on the online auction house ebay bags of rubble from the property.
There were many eager buyers.
But not all were happy about the plans for Boleskine. A protest orchestrated by the Fresh Start Foundation which describes itself as a “Scottish not for profit group working with and for the survivors of Child Sexual Abuse and Satanist Ritual Abuse in Scotland" warned that the plans to restore Boleskine House and open it to the public would turn the place into "a pilgrimage site for satanists": a claim the Boleskine House Foundation denounced as "false and grotesquely unfounded."
However, I distinctly seem to remember that when news of the foundation and property sale came out in 2020, that news included the owners’ plans to resuscitate, shall we say, Crowley-style activities at the house, along with the performance of “historic rituals.” Today, the restoration has neared its end, and the opening of Boleskine House to the public has begun. Though there’s no public talk of magickal rituals or other shady dealings—yet—, I recently discovered that the central owner and foundation director, Keith Readdy, is himself an occultist. He is also the author of a rather . . . supportive book on Thelema, Crowley’s notorious religion, which has gained disturbing popularity in recent years.
It seems one of the Great Beast’s very own students has become the new Lord Boleskine.
And perhaps the new handler of the elusive, watery beast of Loch Ness.