InfoBritain - Travel Through History In The UK :
A History Of Castles
A History Of Castles
Stand on a beach and draw a magic circle around you in the sand, and you have a castle. Castles have close links with the magic protective circles that we have always created to defend ourselves from the uncertainties of life. Visit the Imperial War Museum London and you will see copies of Cold War era publications Protect And Survive, and Domestic Nuclear Shelters . Both books have a logo showing a family within a circle. In the face of nuclear war where little can be done to protect most people, we need as much magical protection as we can get. The circle design on the front of the government's books harks back to the earliest attempts by people to find security.
5000 years ago it seems that life in what is now Britain became more difficult. Archeologists know that during those desperate days formerly cultivated land in Norfolk, Suffolk and Wessex became infested with weeds and scrub. It is possible that the preceding period of success in agriculture had exhausted the soil. Fighting over scarce resources became more common, and in some areas it seems a new trend in castle building began, by surrounding hilltops with banks and ditches in an attempt to fortify them. This type of castle is usually associated with the later Iron Age, but it now seems their history stretches back to the Neolithic. In other areas a different approach was taken. At places like Stonehenge and Avebury sacred sites were constructed, consisting, once again, of circular earth banks and ditches, often with standing stones. Many interpretations of these mysterious structures have been attempted, but thinking about them as part of the history of castles might, I suggest, be instructive. These spiritual sites sought security just as powerfully as castles. Life seemed to depend on the fates governed by bright lights in the heavens, bringing good harvest or bad. And when people sought to intervene in the circling of fate they used the same architecture used in castle building. Circular banks and ditches of the sacred sites mimicked the banks and ditches of hilltop forts. In another parallel with the hilltop castles, a huge mound was built close to the Avebury stone circle, known as Silbury Hill. Silbury mimicked hilltop fortifications in being nothing less than the hill itself in a stylised form. This closeness to the function of a hilltop castle was demonstrated millennia after Silbury Hill's construction by its use during Saxon times as a fortification. Post holes on the top of the hill indicate that this stylised fort actually took the short step towards becoming an actual fort. The symbolic method of finding security might seem like a forlorn hope, but it is something we have continued to use into the present day. Churches continue to mimic the architecture of castles, with turrets, battlements and towers. People have long sought refuge in churches, and the symbolic power of these places has often provided at least as much protection as a good strong castle. The oldest building at Edinburgh Castle is not the huge castle building, which has been destroyed and rebuilt a number of times. The oldest building at Edinburgh Castle is the tiny St Margaret's Chapel. This nine hundred year old building was protected by its symbolism, expressed in tiny, stylised battlements on each end of its roof. The chapel used the symbolic power of the magic circle, and outlasted the impressive castle around it. This might be reassuring for that poor little family in the middle of the circle on the front of Protect And Survive.
As circular sacred sites were developed and embellished, so the similar hilltop castles became more elaborate. This is particularly true of the Iron Age, around 500BC, when the advent of iron resulted in the production of more formidable weaponry. Maiden Castle in Dorset, which began its history in the Neolithic, became a huge castle in the Iron Age, and is a remarkable survivor from this time. It was at Maiden Castle that the ancient Britons made one of their last stands against the Roman invaders. And it was the Romans who were to change castle architecture, with their expertise in the use of masonry. One of the most impressive remains of a Roman Castle can be seen at Pevensey in East Sussex. But even after this great change the parallel between physical and spiritual security in castle building remained. The Romans established their first city in Britain at Colchester, and a vast Temple of Claudius was built there. During Boudicca's rebellion against Roman rule in AD60 the Roman population of Colchester barricaded itself inside the Temple of Claudius and used it as a castle. They held out for two days before their defences were overwhelmed. Later in history, after the Norman Conquest, William the Conqueror used the foundations of the Temple of Claudius to build the largest castle in Britain. Finally the Temple of Claudius had become the castle it had tried to be back in AD60.
Exeter Cathedral, with its castle-like towers and battlements
Once Christianity came to Britain, first during the later Roman period, and then after 597AD with the arrival of St Augustine, church architecture took its lead from castle architecture. Early Saxon churches were built within the confines of Roman castles at Reculver and Richborough. In appearance the new Christian churches were nothing less than stylised castles. Have a look at virtually any church, and you will see towers, battlements, slit windows in the shape of a cross, through which people seeking spiritual security could fire their metaphorical arrows. Giving examples is virtually redundant, since almost any church or cathedral you could look at will prove the point.
Castles meanwhile took something of a backward step following the Roman withdrawal. Europe fell into chaos, and the technology of the Roman world was largely lost. The next great castle builders in Britain would be the Normans, who built castles all over Britain following their invasion in 1066. Initially there were strong echoes of the past in Norman castle design. Working quickly the Normans threw up huge mounds, called a motte, with a wooden fortification on top. The entrance at the bottom of the mound was defended by its own wooden fortification, called a bailey - echoes of Silbury Hill and the hilltop forts here. Norman mounds can still be seen, at Tonbridge, Oxford and Windsor amongst many others. The original wooden fortifications have of course gone, but an example has been recreated at Mountfitchet in Suffolk.
A few of the earliest Norman castles were built in stone, such as Chepstow and Monmouth. And it wasn't long before the original wooden motte and bailey castles were all replaced by stronger stone structures. Interestingly some of the most important builders of castles at this time were also builders of churches and cathedrals. Bishops often played major military roles, and Bishop Gundulf of Rochester, known to his contemporaries as "very competent and skillful in building in stone," built the royal castle at Rochester, beside the river Medway. He also built neighbouring Rochester Cathedral, and he is a possible builder of the White Tower at the centre of the Tower of London, and the massive Colchester Castle.
Castles then became more sophisticated. The late thirteenth and early fourteenth century king Edward the First brought many dark secrets of effective castle building back from the Holy Land where he had been on Crusade. Edward built many castles in north Wales during his campaign to subdue the Welsh, and these were among the most advanced of their time. Some, such as Harlech were built as efficient fighting machines, whereas others, such as Caernarvon, were more symbolic in nature, demonstrating the impressiveness of Edward's power. It wasn't long before this symbolic impressiveness took over, to a large degree, from the actual military value of castles. Only a few decades after Edward the First's death, castles were generally being built for their looks. Leeds Castle was valued for its beauty, and rather than being involved in any unpleasant fighting was given as a present to a succession of medieval queens. Sir Edward Dalyrigge, a soldier and a statesman, wanted an impressive house to reflect his status. As a loyal supporter of Richard the Second he was given permission to fortify, or crenellate, his manor house at Bodiam in East Sussex. Once he'd got this permission, Sir Edward decided to build a completely new house down the hill from his old mansion, and this building became Bodiam Castle, completed in 1385. It was designed primarily to look beautiful and impressive, and it is rather like the gated, fortified mansions of today's Hollywood stars. Meanwhile further north the powerful Neville family had built lovely Raby Castle. Raby was not a fighting castle, but a symbol of the family's power and wealth. This wealth was gained mainly in wars against the Scots. Fortifications involved in the actual business of warfare were the utilitarian pele towers built further north. Raby is far too beautiful to have battles spoiling its romantic peace. As usual with castles there is an ambivalence about Raby. Religious buildings still shared architectural features with castles, and the peaceful, spiritual purpose of a church is not very far from the emotions that a beautiful castle like Raby can evoke. The similarity between the earliest circular ditch and earth bank castles, and the earliest ditch and earth bank religious sites, is still with us in castles like Raby.
Then into Tudor times in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the military, symbolic and religious nature of castles became ferociously intertwined. These were years of religious strife, with Protestantism and Catholicism struggling violently together. This struggle was reflected in castle building. Deal Castle is one of a chain of castles built by Henry the Eighth along the south coast of England ostensibly to protect the country from French and Spanish attack. To allow his divorce from Catherine of Aragon, Henry had switched the religion of England from Catholicism to Protestantism. This led to short lived fears of invasion from catholic France and Spain. Although the threat of invasion was never serious, a huge building programme of shore line defence began in 1539. A chain of forts built along the south coast included Camber Castle in East Sussex, Walmer Castle, and Sandown Castle in Kent, Southsea Castle at Portsmouth, Hurst Castle and Portland Castle in Dorset, Calshott Castle at Southampton, Yarmouth Castle on the Isle of Wight and the sister fortifications of Pendennis Castle and St Mawes Castle in Cornwall. The functional appearance of these castles belies their largely symbolic role. The threat of invasion was brief, but the effect of changing a religion was explosive, and indeed the aftershocks of the changes of the fifteenth century remain with us today, most clearly in the divisions between people in Northern Ireland. Religions are designed to hold people together and maintain hierarchy and discipline. With the change of religion and the possibility of division, perhaps the country needed to feel itself pulled together by the illusion of imminent invasion, which apparently could only be countered by the building of huge forts. The symbolism was taken further in the use of stone from demolished monasteries going into the building of the forts. The solid walls of these forts, almost all of which survive, is the physical manifestation of a struggle of ideas and beliefs. They are solid, squat and functional, and yet they have all the symbolism of the churches they were built from. I'm not saying that Henry the Eighth actually decided to build castles as symbols: he wasn't the most subtle of men. But he needed the reassurance of unity as much as anyone. The south coast castles were not really built to face an external enemy. Instead they were designed to create a symbolism that would prevent divisions appearing from within.
During the seventeenth century national unity fell apart as the Parliament took on the supporters of Charles the First. Following the Civil War Parliament went to great lengths to destroy many castles. They did this because of what castles stood for, as much as to neutralise any military threat they now posed. Castles were the symbol of an old world of divinely appointed monarchs, which had now passed. Windsor Castle was saved by only a single vote in Parliament, while beautiful castles such Corfe in Dorset were systematically destroyed with explosives. And in many ways the age of the castle had passed. The rich were no longer building castles as symbols of their power. Since the reign of Elizabeth the First society had been sufficiently stable for the rich to spend their money on beautiful houses, such as Longleat. Castle technology now seemed to have moved to the utilitarian. During the reign of Charles the Second the huge fort at Tilbury was built beside the Thames west of London. And yet even in this rather bleakly utilitarian fortification there are same strange echoes of the ancient spiritual sites where we started this journey: Most of the fortifications at Tilbury consist of earth banks.
Then as we come towards the modern age, with the concrete gun emplacements of twentieth century wars, we find even this type of architecture reflected in the fairy tale sentiment of castles. It is often said that the last castle to be built in Britain was Castle Drogo on Dartmoor. Castle Drogo was built not to protect any territory, but as a home for Julius Drewe, who retired a very wealthy man after running the Home and Colonial Stores. He wanted a castle to reflect his wealth, and hired a reluctant Edwin Lutyens to design it for him. Lutyens wanted to build a house, but Drewe insisted on a castle. So in 1910 land was purchased and work began. The design included traditional elements of castle design, such as towers and battlements; but it also included some more modern concrete bunker chic, as can be seen in this photograph. Castle Drogo of course had no use as a military building, and was simply a show piece. But this was nothing new in castle design. Castles have always existed on a spectrum from functional fortification, to fairy tale kingdom. From the earliest castles symbolism has been as important as physical presence. Fascinatingly the "last castle in Britain" stands across a Dartmoor gorge from one of the very first castles in Britain. Drewe is supposed to have looked at the earth banks and ditches of the Iron Age Cranbrook Castle on Dartmoor, and decided that it should have a sister castle on the other side of the gorge. In this way he decided on the site for Castle Drogo. Ever since Cranbrook Castle was built thousands of years ago, castles have been contradictory structures. They have been places of war, and yet their architecture is reflected in the peaceful places we design in seeking spiritual security. Cathedrals have borrowed from their architecture. Bishops have found themselves building both cathedrals and castles. People have taken refuge in cathedrals, using their symbolic security, in just the same way that others have taken refuge in castles. Castle Drogo is no less a real castle in simply appearing as one.
View of the entrance to Dover Harbour from Admiralty Casement beneath Dover Castle
Seemingly castles are no longer useful to us. In the face of modern war their symbolism, and their physical defensive capabilities, seem pointless. During the twentieth century politicians and leaders began to take cover underground in hidden bunkers, such as the Cabinet War Rooms in London, or Scotland's Secret Bunker near St Andrews. At Dover Castle, a site of fortification since Roman times, an underground Cold War command centred was built. The rest of us meanwhile have had to make do with silly government publications with a cover picture showing a family inside a circle. And yet we still value castles. We visit them, feel romantic about them, spend money maintaining them. That is because, like churches, castles are spiritual symbols. And in the end, as we saw with St Margaret's Chapel, symbolism has a power that outlasts simple physical security. Perhaps I shouldn't feel so bad that while VIPs bury themselves in underground bunkers, I have a magic circle.