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Showing posts with label John of Gaunt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John of Gaunt. Show all posts

Friday, 13 October 2017

Monmouthshire in the 14th century: prosperity and plague

Chepstow Castle, a crossing point
Prosperity
   Monmouthshire in the 14th century was relatively accessible from England and became quite affluent, particularly in the towns which grew up (some around castles) such as Chepstow, Abergavenny, Monmouth, Newport, Tryleg and Caerleon. The county had a higher ratio of castles per square mile than any other similar region of England or Wales, except Herefordshire and Northumberland. To get my tenses right - it still does and therefore has a record number of post-castle-visit CAKE opportunities. Even though some fortresses were starting to fall into disrepair, several were sufficiently comfortable and welcoming for leading English lords to spend time in them, Henry V being born in Monmouth.
   These lowlands of the south-east were also appealing because of their good hunting: a well-stocked park in Grosmont made it a favourite residence of the House of Lancaster and the towns offered specialised crafts and services, weekly markets and twice-yearly fairs. A suburb of Abergavenny was called Englishton and several spots were the homes of Benedictine priories, outposts of northern French monasteries.
The River Usk from the Flood Route or Noah's Ark Route
   Manors grew wheat and the River Usk provided salmon, prized as far away as East Anglia. Wood and charcoal also formed an important part of the economy. More distant parts of the region were still thoroughly Welsh in language, customs and culture: 87% of taxpayers in 1292 round Monmouth had English surnames but the proportions were reversed in the district around White Castle. The men of Gwent were particularly skilled in military techniques, especially the bow and arrow, and were sought after in English wars against France. One detail I like from this tapestry of prosperity is that of the journey of Lady Elizabeth de Burgh of Usk travelling to her East Anglian estates in 1350, escorted by 130 horses and 28 hackneys, the menage quaffing an impressive 80 gallons of ale per day en route. If that makes you feel thirsty you may have a cup of tea with your CAKE.

Usk Castle
The Plague
   I have scattered the story of affluence with photographs because it is hard to know how to illustrate this next part of the story. Towards the end of the century Monmouthshire (Gwent) was composed of 5 great lordships: Abergavenny; Monmouth and Three Castles; Striguil (Chepstow); Usk and Caerleon; and Gwynllwg (Newport) - the latter now having the least visited ruined castle in the area. (Don't try to boost its numbers: the local council makes no attempt to make the relic accessible.) Changes in lordships caused by natural demise were disruptive but the advent of the Black Death was cataclysmic.
   There are many facts here which are only probable but the outline is clear: in the winter of 1348-9 the pandemic arrived and was known as "Y Farwolaeth Fawr" which does sound more ominous than the English version, "The Great Death". It killed between a third and a quarter of the population. Recurrent further outbreaks meant that economic recovery seemed nearly impossible: particularly distressing was that of 1361-2 which carried off the younger generation who might otherwise have revived the economy. In 1362, 36 of the 40 tenants of Caldicot are recorded as dead and only 114 labour services remained out of a previous 2000, though these figures might be cumulative over more years. Areas spared so far were devastated by the 1369 spread of this virulent disease. The county was overturned by such losses.
Caldicot Castle
   Yet there was some recovery despite the demographic collapse although it was the lower classes of men and women who scraped together money to satisfy the well organised lords' demands. This was, in some ways, merely a delay of inevitable consequences: labour shortages made demesne farming less profitable and many lords became long-distance, rent-collecting owners. Serfdom as a system was eclipsed and workers could now make demands on their lords. The peasantry became rebellious (schoolroom titters at the back about revolting peasants will not be tolerated) and there were risings against the lords in Abergavenny and ominous threats to Monmouth in 1381 which prompted John of Gaunt to fortify his castle there.

Monmouth Castle
What next?
   I can pick 3 words from my unlocked word-hoard to answer that question: Owain Glyn Dwr.

I have written a brief biography of this enigmatic man followed by an attempt at assessment. Many of my posts are about castles in Monmouthshire: you might like to start by reading about Henry V's birthplace: Monmouth Castle. An account of Marcher lordships goes a little further in explaining this aspect and there is an article on Medieval markets in the area.
On the right of this blog there is a rather daunting list of books consulted with gratitude but I am particluarly indebted to The Gwent County History vol. 2 for this piece.


Monday, 19 June 2017

Kenilworth Castle: a huge stunning ruin

Kenilworth Castle is ruinous and stunning to visit: it challenges the imagination to recreate it as it was and overwhelms you with its grandeur. Firstly you have to see it in your mind's eye as encompassed by a massive 111 acre artificial sheet of water, exceeding that of Caerphilly and vastly bigger than that at Bodiam. Then you can envisage it when it was refashioned by John of Gaunt and Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. You can add mentally - if you are sufficiently gifted - the masques and revelry that the latter, a side-kick of Queen Elizabeth I, (literally as they did many dangerously jaunty dances together) organised in her honour.
   Warwickshire is not rich in castles as is the Marches area of Wales but Kenilworth is a star. On a windy sunny day it is unforgettable. Plus, walking round it leaves you hungry for CAKE, always a good thing.

Early history
   Between 1122 and 1129, Geoffrey de Clinton built a castle here, probably a motte and bailey structure where the present inner ward is now. The mighty keep, called Clinton's tower, is later and its impressiveness as a Norman structure is affected by the enlarging of its windows by Dudley. The kings Henry II, John and Henry III (he was probably the one who added the lake) spent vast sums in making the castle a strong fortress with 5 mural towers: Mortimer's; the Water Tower; the Warden's Tower; the Swan Tower and Lunn's Tower. John of Gaunt's Great Hall was the architectural masterpiece of the castle and was the only part that Dudley left unaltered 200 years later, presumably because it suited the grand and powerful image he wished to project.


2 exciting stories
   When Henry III had finished making the castle virtually impregnable, he unwisely gave it to Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, and his wife Eleanor in 1254. Ten years later, de Montfort headed the opposition of the barons even though he was a previously unpopular foreigner. He became almost the ruler and held the king's brother, Richard, captive in the castle. Prince Edward escaped, marched his forces back overnight and, because he had reliable intelligence, fell upon the younger Simon de Montfort and his superior troops as they were camping, exhausted and without posting sentinels or sending out scouts. Simon the younger swam the lake in his night shirt to enter the castle. In 1266 the royalists besieged the castle - it was extremely violent, using the latest technology - and finally succeeded in agreeing the Dictum of Kenilworth and the castle was once again royal.
   The Tudors are now a much worked-over family and we all know that Dudley was a "favourite" of Queen Elizabeth who gave him Kenilworth, one of her many indiscretions with this dashing, ostentatious beau. He lavished her bounty on the castle, demilitarising it and building Leicester's Gate-house, which is more of a house over a gate than the usual fortifying structure. He added Leicester's Building and entertained the queen on several occasions, the most noteworthy being a 19-day revelry in 1575 which cost Leicester £1000 a day in maintenance to say nothing of the incredible sum of £100,000 in entertainments which included masques, plays, tilting, sports, Morris Dancing, ceremonies and pageantry. Elizabeth was greeted by the Lady of the Lake, Mars, Apollo, Neptune and Bacchus and later enjoyed (we hope) fireworks, tumblers, Latin orations, bear-baiting and a laugh-a-minute drama about the massacre of the Danes. She never came back here.  You can read an imaginative recreation of all this in Sir Walter Scott's novel, Kenilworth. 

The present
   What you see and ramble round is a ruin which had begun to decline before it was slighted in the Civil War. The castle and manor were given to Colonel Hawkesworth and other officers who "pulled down and demolished the castle, cut down the king's woods, destroyed his park, and divided the land into farms for themselves." The lake was drained at this time by cutting the dam. Our pile is not a monument to democracy although it it represents one of the early stages in our slow progress towards that system.  You can also see John of Gaunt's hall and chamber block and have tea and CAKE in the lovely cafĂ© in the stable block. There is a path to what was Henry V's Pleasaunce (private pavilion) and a Tudor garden.


I visited Kenilworth the day after Warwick Castle and much preferred the ruin. The staff are particularly friendly, it is not in any way commercialised and there were groups of well-behaved school children with clip-boards and learned faces. There is a bus connecting the 2 and so both come under my heading of History on the Buses - although Monmouthshire has many more castles. Tee hee!

I have written about Caerphilly Castle and its great lake as well as Bodiam set in its ravishing waters. There is also a post about nearby Warwick Castle. To read about medieval siege engines click here. For opening hours of Kenilworth, click here.

Sunday, 18 December 2016

Bodiam Castle: the film star with the enigma

                             

   Bodiam Castle has starred in TV series and Hollywood feature films because of its aura, beauty and charisma: historians have debated if this showiness was its true purpose rather than military defence and so there is a central enigma behind the celebrity smile.
   The question would seem to be answered by a public document issued on 20th October 1385 by King Richard II to Sir Edward Dalyngrigge or Dallingridge, the owner, which gave him permission to "strengthen with a wall of stone and lime, crenellate and make into a castle his manor house at Bodiam, next to the sea, for the defence of the adjacent country and resistance to the king's enemies." The idea of such a licence  was to narrow the scope for castle building or adding battlements and meant that not every upstart could do so on a whim and thereby threaten the power of the crown. Yet Sir Edward built his castle further up the hill from his house and endowed it with features which would not have served as a strong defence but which did bring him status because of their lavish nature. Bodiam is a 10-mile march from the sea, access by the River Rother was not very threatening and Sir Edward was probably anxious to rise in society from being a knight to a member of the higher lordly aristocracy. Ownership of a castle provided that upward mobility, particularly if this possession appeared to be for the public good and safety of the realm. The licence proved to the neighbours that he was the possessor of a castle not a house.


The moat
   Ignoring the silly and demeaning bunting, one can see here that the moat emphasises the grandeur of the castle by setting it in a sea of reflections and by isolating it from surroundings that might make it look smaller. Moats were used as defensive feature because they impeded access to the walls which could be undermined if soldiers came close. Yet this one, although 6 feet deep and broad, is held in place along half its length by a dam which could be easily breached and it is not strengthened by stonework. Originally there were 6 (fish?) ponds making it part of extensive watery landscaping - hardly a military necessity - and the presence nearby of natural springs may have induced the designer (probably Henry Yevele, a royal mason) to suggest the new site, the moat etc giving the building symbolic and aesthetic appeal. Because it is not squeezed onto a rocky platform dictating its shape, the designer had a free hand to create a nearly square, regular and symmetrical plan. The weather was dull when I took these photographs but Bodiam is at its Mona Lisa best in shimmering sun or mysterious mist.

The windows etc
   You can also see that the external windows are larger than a truly military castle would have demanded: the South and East walls have huge ones and the others are vulnerable including those in the hall and the 3-light Gothic window in the chapel. The arrow-loops are narrow and awkwardly placed, the gun-openings inflexible and the murder holes through which all kinds of nastiness could be poured onto the enemy are small. The battlements, the main object of the licence, are not all full sized, being half scale on the turrets and in miniature round the rims of chimneys and on the main fireplace (why have crenellations in those places except for ornament?) The magnificent gatehouse, which boasts some of these apparently warlike features as well as twin projecting towers with machicolations, could not have had a drawbridge because of the design and, anyway, a hostile force could have attacked through the poorly defended rear Postern gate. Guests would have entered there, full of admiration after viewing the parks, farmlands and hunting grounds. Most importantly - there is no keep. Have a piece of CAKE if you had noticed!

Domestic apartments and arrangements
   Bodiam Castle rejoices in 28 en suite toilets (mostly draining into the moat) and 33 fireplaces, hospitable accessories for a family's visitors but far too lavish for a garrison. The range of domestic buildings, including pantry (French "pain"), buttery (French "bouteille") and kitchen were in the handsome central courtyard and, together with the Great Hall, placed opposite the main gate. Sir Edward's (note that I am avoiding spelling his surname!) private apartment was on the upper floor and would have been splendid, although his wealth may not have extended to tapestries, merely to painted hangings.  All would have been affluent, comfortable and classy. There is even evidence that there was a separate banqueting hall or gazebo even higher up the hill with views of the surroundings and the splendour of the castle.


Backdrop to Sir Edward's situation.
   Although in the 12th and 13th centuries the country was in turmoil, by the later 14th century the atmosphere was calmer, despite the peasants' revolting (I nearly wrote "being revolting"), rebellion against the king and a threat of dangerous French invasion by armada after their recent burning and raiding on the south coast as part of what we now call the Hundred Years' War. There is no evidence, though, that Sir Edward was terrified by this and he had made many excursions across the Channel to commit similar actions. If there were battles they were pitched in open fields rather than being castle sieges. At the moment of applying for his licence Sir Edward was facing imprisonment over his dramatic quarrel with the eminent John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, over the murder of his sub-forester, William Mouse, (love that name!) and may have suddenly wanted proven respectability. As he was from a comparatively humble background, having married a wealthy heiress and made a mint on the continent, he probably wanted to accentuate his position. His income of around £200-300 p.a. was very comfortable but not sufficient to pay for this extravaganza and, although he sold off some of his wife's lands from 1381 onwards, we may assume that some money came from foreign pillaging, ransoms and sale of captured French knights' armour (typically worth £400) in the company of Sir Robert Knolles or Knowles, who was reputed to have made 100,000 gold crowns as a mercenary and whose arms are displayed over the Postern gate. (Consistency of spelling became a fetish much later - in the 18th century.)
The full Monty - though not necessarily French
Summary
   
Not only is Bodiam Castle alluring in its beauty but it raises intriguing questions about the definition and function of castles in the late 14th century as well as causing some disquiet about the chivalry of knights such as Sir Edward. Chaucer's portrait of the knight in the General Prologue to The Canterbury Tales has been taken at face value as the picture of a perfect chivalrous gentleman of roughly this period but has been proved definitively - in my opinion - by Terry Jones to be a scathing description of a ruthless mercenary. Sir Edward was not of that ilk but may have built his fantasy castle on some ill-gotten gains, at least considered by modern standards. It was later owned and restored by John Fuller, George Cubitt and Lord Curzon. I bet they didn't string up manky bunting. You can play at spot-the-W.W.II-pill-box on your way out: use the loos nearby on your way in - go before you go.
    My keen-eyed readers will have clocked that Bodiam is far from the Welsh Marches and its buses but there are interesting contrasts and comparisons with castles there: it is similar to stunning Raglan Castle in being a Toff's residence and very different from isolated White Castle whose purpose was entirely military. The vast Caerphilly Castle is also enlarged and mirrored by lakes which are truly defensive. An earlier fortress such as imposing Chepstow Castle conforms to the linear structure of the threatening cliffs and was built to emphasise Norman political power whereas the designer of Bodiam had a free space to exploit as he chose and probably was instructed to underline personal prestige. Another Welsh connection is that, in the 1380's, the great magnate, the Earl of Arundel, put sir Edward in charge of his estates in Wales. My verdict on the main debate is that it was built as a castle, looks like a castle and so is a castle and that Sir Edward of the unpronounceable surname just wanted to indulge himself with a seductive folly. The rest of us will have to be content with CAKE.


For opening times and activities and a chance to complain about the bunting click here.