The Continous Education of Falkland Palace and Gardens

By Madina Burkhanova

Orchard in the Falkland gardens, 2025.

This review is a rather unconventional one; the subject is not a recently curated exhibition and is not in a destination far from the reach of St Andrews. It has, however, become quite important to me in my last few years as a university student. Falkland Palace and its adjoining gardens are a small oasis close enough to St Andrews to be easily accessible, but far enough to feel like a singular, disconnected destination.

The town of Falkland is a remarkable idyll - in my many times there, it has never not been completely pleasant in terms of both atmosphere and weather. I am fortunate enough to have regular haunts: the antique store, the same hikes through the estate, and of course, the palace and gardens. The town centre is framed by hills and cottages, and right at the nucleus is the palace. 

My most recent visit came at a time when I wanted nothing more than a break from Art History. After days of quarantining in the library working on my final-year dissertation, my trip had been centred around the remote fantasy of an escape from schoolwork. While I had a wonderful time, as always, I was still firmly stuck in an art historical frame of mind. As such, I found myself much more receptive to transcending the aesthetic pleasure of Falkland and exploring its rich history.

While the palace is infamously associated with Mary, Queen of Scots, the gardens have their own distinct, rich past. This time, I greatly enjoyed learning about Percy Cane and his contribution to the garden’s development. Cane led the redesigning of the gardens in the 40s and is credited with much of the innovative horticulture seen throughout the grounds. To the left of the palace is an orchard featuring a maze. This one of my favourite spots; I have now seen it in multiple different seasons, and in each it is a triumph of composition and precision. Backed by the Lomond hills, it subtly guides patrons through a walk during which you see the palace from various angles. Greenhouses, beehives, and the quaint “Bug-ingham Palace” occupy the far end of the area. The gardens are also home to the oldest tennis court in the world - as I soon found out, contemporary tennis differs drastically from real tennis, “the sport of kings”. This royal association compounds the palpable sanctity of the property. The fact that the garden is always practically empty but impeccably kept cultivates an element of fantasy that I adore. There is certainly a great effort put into each element of the grounds that allows us viewers to see cohesion and charm. 

Falkland Palace and Gardens, 2025.

The upkeep of the actual palace is a testament to the National Trust’s respect of its importance. A model example of renaissance architecture, the monument leads viewers up a winding staircase. Each level of the palace illuminates the living quarters, and by extension the lifestyle, of the royals that inhabited it through many centuries. The rooms are carefully curated to impart the most information possible about the royals’ colloquial practices; the exhibitions are accurate down to the sheets on the bed and the clothing laid out. The preconceived pathway takes us to the top flight of the palace, then all the way down the underground levels. My personal favourite area is the kitchen. Rustic yet clean, it is an idealised tableau of what actually occurred there when it was still in use. Still, I am always enamoured by a cozy environment. With the view of the medieval castle (rediscovered c. 1900) just beyond the door, it is hard not to idealise the setting.

The next time I visit the palace and gardens, I will ensure that I am in the right mindset to absorb more specifics about the royals. There is certainly much potential for education. So while I attempted to find refuge in Falkland away from my studies (and failed miserably), I encourage you to visit the palace and gardens prepared for an influx of beauty, learning, and peace. This small gem of Fife is a reminder that art history is ubiquitous. Furthermore, it is emblematic of what I will soon very much miss about Scotland.