Cease and Desist: Castles
It is said that on the eve of a great siege, thousands of men stood at the foot of the hill on top of which a great castle had been built. Mighty in stone and primed for battle, the castle would not yield without a fight. The army below bristled with anticipation, readying weapons. Then they found out that it cost £13.80 to go in without a membership. So they went home.
Still kicking, but not water-proof
An Englishman’s home is his castle. Or at least it used to be.
Though you would be forgiven for thinking this essay will be dealing with declining construction standards in the myriad of shambolic newbuilds popping up around the country, or perhaps some thoughts on overly-stringent council zoning laws, we’re actually here to discuss the rise and tactical decimation of castles as an English building format by the 16th century.
The castle as a structure is one seemingly baked into the very fabric of England’s green and pleasant land. More often than not they are a ruin, and as such blend into the natural environment as if they have always been there from the earth's conception. So ingrained in fact that they are often a de facto symbol for English history in its entirety. But they have not always been here. In fact before the early 11th century, these large fortified dwellings were all but unheard of. Imagine that.
Nevertheless castle culture is embedded in British identity, and most often associated with royalty. I mean, can you imagine King Arthur without his fortress at Camelot? This is reflected in popular culture, the BBC tv show Merlin for instance portrays Albion’s once and future king inhabiting a gleaming, towering fairytale castle at the heart of his kingdom. In Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the castle is a sturdy brownstone build, and admittedly looks a bit knackered for a castle in its prime, but still very English nonetheless. Unfortunately in reality Merlin was filmed in France, at Château de Pierrefonds, which was built in the 1300’s, long after the mythical King Arthur probably didn’t walk the earth in the 5th century AD. Likewise, Monty Python’s Camelot is actually the 14th century Doune Castle in Scotland. Medieval castles on the whole did not have such an intricate appearance, and not least because King Arthur’s time predates the arrival of castle building in Britain by several hundred years.
Like many English staples, the castle has foreign origins. The first ones were actually built by William the Conqueror before his historic win in 1066, perhaps it was a bit presumptuous but still it turned out alright for him in the end so fair play. Then in the following 150 years, around 1000 castles were built all over England and Wales. At the time, they were an unknown entity, completely exotic to the landscape. This worked to their favour.
It might be a bit of a hint to how relations were faring that the Norman conquerors felt the need to build enormous fortified houses to protect themselves from locals, but they were very effective. The English had no experience with this kind of fortification and therefore no strategy to work around the defences. They had all the wherewithal of dodo’s faced with human predators for the first time. The castle is and has always been synonymous with conflict, a kind of pre-emptive strike in the face of possible violence.
So what were the local Anglo-Saxon population up against exactly? The on trend must-have castle style at the time is known as the motte and bailey design. Developed in France in the late 10th century, these fortresses were designed with the purpose of security in mind, built in troubled areas for the express purpose of upholding order by quashing signs of resistance.
The structures were created from earth and timber. They consisted of a tall cone of earth, the motte, upon which a tall tower (known as the keep) was built, and a raised courtyard area next to it, the bailey. Literally on higher ground. Both constructions would be ringed by a timber stake fence, known as a palisade, separating them for extra security, and a deep ditch protecting the outer ring, sandcastle-style. These mounds are the only part of early timber fortifications that survive to the present day, which is perhaps why they are named this way and not after the keep which seems more eye-catching and name-worthy.
These motte and bailey timber castles were quick and easy to build and importantly did not require skilled labourers to do so. Exactly like Ikea furniture. The structures operated similarly to military camps, but in truth they were needed in Britain for less dramatic purposes. After William the Conqueror did his conquering, he was able to build a large, intimidating physical representation of his authority across the country. Castles housed Norman nobles and their families, as well as soldiers, and were erected in many large towns, such as (bear with me) Norwich or Salisbury. Often they were placed strategically on prehistoric or Roman ruins, an apt metaphor for the new age. In some towns, houses were even demolished to make room for the castle; Normans were the original property developers. Being in the centre of hubs close to markets and administrative buildings made it easier to control trade and communication and made the small Norman population look larger, all ensuring successful conquering of the local population.
There was also an element of psychological domination. If you look big enough the enemy may assume you are too powerful to defeat, and nothing threw its weight around in medieval Britain as much as a castle. You can even spot one being built on that famous fabric brag: the Bayeux Tapestry.
One reason this clout was so important was that at this time society ran under the feudal system, a triangle of hierarchy, the original pyramid scheme. If you attended a UK primary school you will likely recognise it. At the muddy bottom were the peasants, or serfs, who worked the land and paid rent for the privilege to the next layer up, the knights. In return the knights would provide food, protection and shelter, even though the serfs were the ones technically growing the food. The knights in turn served the next layer, the lords, through military service and homage. They too would be provided food, shelter and protection, even though the knights were the ones in the armour holding the swords. The lords would in their turn serve the king through loyalty and military aid when necessary. All this food, protection and shelter being passed was owned ultimately by the king, who ruled through a divine right granted by God at the tippy top of the pyramid. He could pass it down to the lords, but this was very much on his own terms, given or taken at whim. Everyone had a reason for staying in line, but the king owed nothing to no one.
Peveril Castle keep, a bit of a fixer-upper
Fortifications like the castle upheld this system. Their physicality across the land reminded everyone who was in charge. They could be seen for miles, any peasant unhappy with his lot would be unable to escape their shadow; an embodiment of the hierarchy always watching as they toiled. In the same vein, a lord scared for his security living within the castle walls could feel safe, a reward for his loyalty in battle to William the Conqueror, or whichever king held the shiny hat at the time. However, a noble would also be aware any serenity could be withdrawn if he was found wanting. When William became king of England in 1066, he built the Tower of London and thus proof of his divine rule was communicated by the fact that he had the best of the best. Come to think of it, this is likely why we associate the king and his castle so closely. He was the main property developer.
An archetypal castle for this period would be Peveril Castle, in Derbyshire. An early Norman castle in surprisingly good nick, still looking out over the rather appropriately-named Castleton, a town at the foot of the castle’s hill that is only 100 years its junior. Unusually for Norman castles, this one was made out of stone right off the bat in the 11th century, which is probably why it still stands today. Built soon after the Norman Conquest in 1066, it came to be named after William Peveril, the local nobility.
Peveril Castle was ideally situated to control the area. Sat at the top of a steep slope, with views of hunting grounds and local mines. It consists of, among other things, the central keep, which would have served as a hall of government and storage areas, a great hall and kitchens, sleeping quarters and a big big gate to keep people out. At least the people who hadn’t already been deterred by the steep hill up there. There were large stone walls to keep out intruders but realistically Peveril served as a base for local government, dealing with taxes rather than warfare. Control comes in many different forms.
However, if motte and bailey castles had one weakness, it was their building material. Wood is kind of known for being susceptible to fire. It is equally susceptible to rotting, particularly in the damp English weather. At first, the problem was tackled by building a stone wall on top of the motte to protect the keep inside, this was known as a shell keep. But by the 12th century, those who could afford it began to build stone keeps at the behest of William the Conqueror, which proved much less flammable and much more durable. Stone keeps could also incorporate fun new features for killing enemies, and over the next few centuries some of these were invented. Slit windows allowed archers to fire shots down on the hordes below but made retaliation all but impossible, and what could be more entertaining than dropping stones or boiling liquid onto hapless attackers trying fruitlessly to scale your walls. Unfortunately the towers in return were vulnerable to siege weapons like catapults, or undermining, but in fairness there is not much that would not yield to a huge rock being hurled at it very fast.
In the later 12th century further attention was placed on shoring up a castle’s outer defences. Focus mainly revolved around gatehouses and exterior walls, which you remember were originally spiked fences. A rehaul was needed. Walls were built up to reduce the likelihood of destruction by catapult. Battlements were then added to the top of walls to act as convenient shelters for those defending from the roof, or small balcony-like galleries extended over the edge so defenders could drop whatever they fancied directly onto their attackers heads. Creating moats or artificial lakes meant the castle could only be approached from a limited number of set points. Some castles even put a second wall inside the first, so invaders would be in for a frustrating surprise. These thoughtful touches created the archetypal castle as we imagine it today.
However, as stone became more commonplace for castle building, or perhaps partly because of it, the Norman control of England began to consolidate, rendering the conflict-proof purpose of castles less necessary. As such, they began to take on new roles, becoming centres of administration and justice as well as another way the ruling lord could show off his extravagant wealth and power.
Castle’s began to incorporate gothic architectural elements into their design, and stepped back from fortification. Clues to a castle's true purpose can be easy to see if you know where to look. How big are the windows? Bigger windows are not ideal for protection and make for a vulnerable target, however they do let in some lovely natural light which makes life inside more bearable. The interior would also be roomier, as households expanded to make way for servants and those in charge wanted privacy and separation from the lower classes. Decorative elements were likewise added, such as large family crests over the entrance, and extra design flourishes incorporated into the architecture. These new castles were much more pleasant to live in, and for those who look, there is a direct relationship between these castle types and the places and houses which came to replace them in the early modern era.
I know what you’re thinking. So if these castles were so amazing and durable and solid, and if they were adapting to the times, being kitted out with fancy big windows and stone decorations, why are so many of them crumbling ruins trying their best to become one with the hillside? Why is it that sometimes you go visit a town (Bedford) that says it has a castle (Bedford Castle), but when you go to have a look all there is is a small grassy mound with a couple of placards saying that a castle used to be here but that was like hundreds of years ago so all there is to look at is empty space on top a hill that's not even very tall? Why did we stop building castles?!
Well, it is important to know the context in which castles thrived, because it was paramount to their downfall.
Enter the Tudors.
Truthfully, there are a few reasons castles fell out of fashion, for instance the popularity of munitions like gunpowder and canons, which meant building castles just didn't do much good anymore, so you might as well live in a normal house. For my money though the role of the Tudors, one of England’s most famous and bloodthirsty royal dynasties, is the most pertinent.
It is important to note that before the centralised rule of the Tudors, the role of king was far from a stable job. The Wars of the Roses had torn Britain asunder, financially ruined and politically divided, it was the pits back then. So when Henry defeated Richard of York at the Battle of Bosworth in 1485, crowning himself King Henry VII almost immediately after to seal his victory, in a way he did everyone a big favour.
Now you would be forgiven for wondering why we are associating the Tudor dynasty with order and stability, and that’s fair. Much of what is commonly known of the Tudors is focused on Henry VIII’s relentless quest to obtain a legitimate son and the many, many heads he beheaded to get to that point. There is a reason that this Henry had so much time to chop and change wives however.
The thing about Henry VII is that he is often overlooked for his bloodier successors, deemed the boring, lame Tudor. This is because, on the whole, he was sort of very, very good at being king. During his reign, England became financially stable, able to play at the table with its European equals. No more warring amongst themselves, from now on Britain would save their energy for fighting with the French instead. A lack of law and order had led to the downfall of his predecessors, and so Henry grafted, creating foreign and financial policy that legitimised both himself and his country in the eyes of foreign powers and potential rebels. Likewise, local nobles could see which way the tide was turning, and most decided to follow the money and fell in line with Henry Tudor. Leaving almost nothing to chance, Henry introduced feudal dues, which allowed him to decide who some of the most powerful nobles, and those most likely to attempt to overthrow him, would marry. He also introduced bonds and recognizances, which bound an individual to perform an action at risk of getting fined. Both were forms of subtle but strict control of his nobles, those under him in the feudal system would benefit materially and stay in their lane. In this new world order, castles, which were once an important tool to maintaining stability in volatile parts of the country, began to feel like a waste of effort. Built for a much more unruly period, they began to look like overkill.
Another significant factor to consider is that the Tudors were a bit touchy about their legitimacy. When Henry VII came to power, he did so as an unknown Lancastrian who had come fresh off the boat from Brittany. His success was from battle only. This was why he prioritised his coronation so quickly after his victory at Bosworth, and within a few months secured a marriage with Elizabeth of York, uniting the houses of York and Lancaster and reducing the chances of a rebellion. His financial and foreign policies were his way of securing his legitimacy, moving so fast that Britain moved from one kind of normal to another before anyone could react. In this context, the pre-emptive strike implied through building a castle began to look suspicious. You simply did not want a Tudor knocking on your door to politely inquire why you didn’t trust them to run the country to your satisfaction. As a noble, that is a survey you do not want to take. As a result, the Tudor period saw the birth of the unfortified great house.
Henry VII’s children and grandchildren took this lesson to heart. Henry VIII casts an intimidating shadow, a very large intimidating shadow. The dissolution of the monasteries in 1536 hurried along the building of private houses, as the ownership lease transferred from God to Henry VIII. The new owners only had to alter a house, rather than build one from scratch. You can often tell if a house used to be a religious residence by its name, for example, Woburn Abbey in Bedfordshire or Nostell Priory in Yorkshire. Any castles still being built were to protect the country from foreign invasion, hence why so many are by the sea. In the era of Henry VII particularly, a string of castles were built from Cornwall to Kent, still a symbol of strength and protection.
In addition, Henry VII’s longest reigning child carried on the intimidating tactics. Under Elizabeth I, architect-built mansions began to be built with increasing speed. The queen loved nothing more than riding around the country imposing herself relentlessly on hapless lords and ladies, showing up with her entire court in tow and staying with them for months, often bankrupting them in the process. To be shown to have her favour was such an honour however that for many nobles, the threat of debtors' prison was worth it. Good one Liz.
There were points in history when castles would again become necessary, for example the English Civil War, but the age of Baronial castle building was over for good. All hail the English country house.
But wait!
This isn’t the last that Britain saw of castle building, at least aesthetically. There’s nothing a Brit loves more than a nostalgic callback to an imagined, perfect past. Every so often, the gothic castle style has been reimagined for one noble or another. Usually, aspects are cherry-picked to suit an owner’s taste: a cylindrical tower here, a battlement there, etc. Such designs were so common that in 1841 they inspired Augustus Pugin, an eminent Gothic Revival architect (he helped design the Houses of Parliament) to comment: "Who would hammer against nailed portals, when he could kick his way through the greenhouse?" Burn.
A perfect party playhouse at Bolsover
There are houses however that more fully lean into the medieval vibe. For example, Bolsover Castle, built in the 17th century, and Penrhyn Castle, built in the 19th, both adopted the castle aesthetic to a greater extent than others.
Bolsover was created from the remains of an 11th century fortification built by William Peveril, who you will remember from Peveril Castle. By the 14th century it had been abandoned and it wasn’t until the early 17th century that it drew the attention of local noble Lord Cavendish as a new home away from his main digs. Cavendish rebuilt the castle to be more in keeping with its new purpose as a country retreat but the new design deliberately mimics the Norman towers of old both inside and out. Sure enough, if you were to see the sight from the nearby A1 you could certainly mistake it for a real deal castle.
Bolsover is a bit like a children’s playhouse, and definitely one of those really detail-oriented ones that has like mini china tea sets and a full kitchen. The pleasure castle replicates the basic design elements of a bailey and motte keep, but scaled down and housing luxurious staterooms and reception areas rather than gaols (jails), food storage, arsenals and administrative quarters. The keep replica was even named the Little Castle. This is square in shape, adorned with battlements and situated within an exterior wall, all battle ready attributes, but it also had large windows, elaborate ornamentation and balconies, all soiree-ready attributes. In short, Bolsover was a party mansion. A real sheep in wolf’s clothing.
But Cavendish and Bolsover all happened hundreds of years ago, right? Castle building was barely cold in its grave in the 17th century, yeah?
Well let’s look forward a couple of hundred years to Penrhyn Castle. A country house built by the architect Thomas Hopper in the neo-Norman style in the 19th century. `If Bolsover is a playhouse, then Penrhyn is an unique fantasy world, a larger than life mega mansion in disguise as a Norman fortress. The interiors follow the theme with custom furniture and fittings in the gothic style, expect to see wolf head sconces and grotesques (fantastical creatures carved from stone and attached to walls and roofs, and yes they are often called gargoyles) on the ceiling.
The great hall at Penrhyn, certainly big
One thing that’s particularly unique about Penrhyn is that it fully buys into the fortification aspect of its Neo-Norman inspiration. There is very little exterior ornamentation, and the walls are high and imposing. There have been some submissions to modernity, windows for example are largely of a normal size for the 19th century, but on the whole you might think you were on the set of Excalibur.
We can see therefore that the castle aesthetic is still hanging on centuries after castle building fell off. Like everything, the castle has been adopted into the architectural aesthetic, its characteristics now affectations rather than tactical advantages. So why co-opt the vibe of a castle to fit within the new context? Was Cavendish honouring the past ruins at Bolsover, or was he perhaps jumping onto the coattails of the legitimacy of the past? Likewise, for what reason was a neo-Norman castle created in the 19th century Welsh countryside? Did calling back to the security and grandeur of the past benefit the Pennant family?
The continued use of the castle vibe across the centuries may be a symptom of how the myth of castles has settled into English history and identity at the cost of a disconnect from their original purpose. Nevertheless there is comfort to be found in the familiarity of the past, even, perhaps especially, when that past is so unconnected from the truth it may as well be a work of fiction.
After all, what is more English than a castle? Well they are French in origin so probably a lot of things. But for centuries they ruled the landscape as a symbol of power, both threatening and comforting in equal measure (depending on your position in the food chain). Perhaps paradoxically they represent stability. This is odd, because if a country was truly stable then castles would be redundant. It is possible that castles represent the fact that even if things are not stable, it is someone else and not you that has to deal with it. There is certainly comfort in that.
It is also certainly true that the appearance of castles dates from roughly the same period as the official ‘start’ of the English monarchy. All Kings and Queens since then have counted off from this date and the start of William the Conqueror's rule. In fact the building of castle’s is intrinsically tied to the Norman invasion through their role as architectural enforcers. To live in a castle was a sign that you had favour with the monarch, and status is everything in a feudal system. For example, the Cavendishes did not need to prove their worth, they’d been knocking around as the Dukes of Devonshire for centuries. To build Bolsover as a playhouse mimicking the trapping of past status could have been a subtle implication of their continued favour and success. To party and dine in the trappings of the wealthy past, having the privilege to cherry pick its most favourable attributes, that’s a flex. Nostalgic.
In this we can see the ways in which society and the class system favoured tradition and the traditionally wealthy. How very Gatsby-esque. Old dynasties, or ‘old money’ were seen as more legitimate, they were better known, and had been around in the same circles for perhaps centuries. Socially they were familiar. Rich people do not like to share and families who had come into money more recently were shunned and shut out; ‘merchant’ was a dirty word. Do you know what else is old? Castles.
Case in point: some wealthy new-money families used ruins of castles to seek legitimacy. For example when Edwin Lascelles built Harewood House off the back of the fortune his family had made through the slave trade he rerouted the driveway to the house to pass by the 12th century castle on his lands, presumably visitors would notice and assume the castle was the traditional seat of the family. The Pennant’s, like the Lascelles’, made their money in the slave trade with a side hustle of local slate mining, it was only in the 1700’s that their family fortune was truly made. To us, 200 years of family rule seems like quite a long time, but for the aristocracy it is nothing. A neo-Norman castle implies strength and wealth, it conveys stability and status, it bolsters a family line.
The past is unique. It contains facts, solid events that happened, for real, that can’t be interpreted or changed. But these facts can be written into narratives by people. They can be changed, flipped, or erased through records, and any evidence is hardly ever the whole story. The past is a paradox. Castles are just one other thing that time has manipulated. I wonder where we’ll take them next.