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Cockermouth Castle  – origins and an early masonry castle

In the first of three posts Tom Addyman looks at what they have found in the survey survey at the inner ward of Cockermouth Castle in western Cumbria provided an important opportunity to take stock of the understanding of the masonry fabric of this understudied major northern baronial castle.  This blog post looks at the origins of the defended site and the early stages of its redevelopment as a stone-built fortification and residence in the 13th century.

For the most part Cockermouth Castle has survived as a well-preserved ruin, little changed since its partial reduction and abandonment as a principal residence following a Civil War siege and following which only two towers had been retained within the outer ward, roofed, that continued to be utilized for administrative functions.  The inner ward area was never reoccupied and has only seen occasional episodes of repair, stabilization and associated landscaping; otherwise it remains intact, mostly to wall-head level.

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The castle has been variously noticed by antiquarians and early castellologists with historical and descriptive accounts by Francis Grose (1774), GT Clarke (1874 and 1884), William Jackson and Rev. Canon Francis Knowles (1880), and John Curwen (1911 and 1913).  These established many of the fundamental observations about the origins, evolution and dating of the site’s various components.  However since Curwen there have been no major studies of the castle.   The present project permitted a detailed record and analysis leading to refinement of thinking about the complex’s structural evolution and the interpretation presented within these earlier accounts. 

The sheer scale of the site dictated that the survey be focused upon the inner ward area at this stage.  The details of the inner ward area at this period are illustrated on plan in (Figure 3) below.

Landform and general configuration of the inner ward

Cockermouth Castle, located within the town of Cockermouth in Cumbria, lies upon a naturally defensible high spur of land at the confluence of the River Derwent and the River Cocker.  The inner ward occupies the western extremity of the spur promontory, defined by the steep bluff above the Derwent to the north and by the steeply falling ground to the south and south-west (Figure 1).

Figure 1    Engraved view looking eastwards across the River Derwent at Cockermouth.  Samuel Buck, 1739

The inner ward’s existing curtain defines a roughly triangular area that measures 49.0m east-west by 48.5m to external wall faces, described by Curwen (1911, 127) as ‘a spherical triangle of about 42 yards each way’ (Figure 2).   The exterior perimeter curtain walls to the north and south-west converge at a slightly projecting D-shaped tower at the western salient, rounded to the exterior (west tower).   To the eastward (landward) side inner ward area is now defined by the substantial east range of later 14th century date that includes the existing inner gatehouse, lodgings to either side, and the kitchen tower to the north.  Today this landward side is approached across the site of a later ditch, itself now mostly infilled.  The inner ward courtyard is a triangular enclosure that is now open to the north and south-west curtain walls but had formerly been mostly occupied by ranges built against these curtains including a hall and chamber range to the north side.  Of 14th century date, these structures must certainly have occupied the site of predecessors.

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Figure 2  General plan of the castle within its immediate setting; north to top (after Curwen 1911, 134)

Historical background

Loosely under Scottish control at the time of the Conquest, the Cockermouth area came fully under Norman rule after William II’s capture of Carlisle in 1092, and from 1098 was controlled on his behalf by Ranulf Meschin (d.1129), later earl of Chester.  He, or his brother William le Meschin, between them the founders of the castles at Egremont and Appleby, probably built the first one at Cockermouth.  By complicated descent, the castle passed in 1215 to William de Forz (or de Fortibus) II, 3rd earl of Aumale (d.1241), whose Norman lands were lost in 1204 but was now a major landholder in the north of England.  Renewed Scottish incursions from 1216 may have led him to improve its defenses. 

An early earthwork castle

Other than Cockermouth Castle’s general promontory landform and the known existence of the inner and outer ditches that sever it from the eastern, landward approach there is little observable or recorded physical evidence for what had likely been an original earthwork fortification.  One exception may be the notable level difference, of about 2m, between the inner and outer wards that may indicate the former presence of a raised earthwork such as a motte or ringwork, as variously suggested (e.g. Curwen 1913, 127), that was subsequently levelled down. 

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The precise position of the inner defensive ditch that had defended this early fortification’s eastern approach has long been deduced as having underlain the existing east range of the later 14th century.  Direct evidence for its more precise position comes in the form of a relieving arch present within the south curtain, see below.

The existing inner ward area and upstanding structures that today define its three sides seem likely to have evolved from a predecessor configuration that was probably initially composed of earthwork and timber and, perhaps later, partly of masonry.  

Events of 1221

In 1221, in consequence of rebellion by William de Forz II, Henry III commanded the sheriff of Westmorland that ‘without any delay he should summon the earls, barons, knights, and freeholders of his bailiwick, and that they should hasten to Cockermouth to besiege the castle there, and when they had taken the same, should destroy it, to its very foundations’ (Curwen, 1911, 130-1).  It is not recorded to what extent the order may have been carried out.  However the limited physical evidence of the earliest iteration of the castle, primarily reused masonry (see below), seems to agree with the suggestion of a complete demolition.

Recycled materials and evidence for pre-existing structures

At points within the inner ward the incorporation of recycled stonework from pre-existing structures is evident.  Some of this material seems to be Roman, such as rough-hewn blocks with cross-hatched tooling (Plate 1).  

Plate 1                Detail of recycled dressed stone, Roman; within the lower interior east wall of the gatehouse. Copyright Addyman Archaeology

However the early curtain wall to the south-west incorporates multiple recycled stones in its lower parts in the area adjacent to the west tower, visible at the interior wall-face (Plate 2).  Many of these are neatly dressed, cubical blocks, of which a number display diagonal tooling and others the common moulded detail of a narrow sunken angle roll formed to a keeled profile of a type that saw currency from the mid-late 12th century.  Clearly these stones derive from a well-built source building of some architectural refinement.  Such evidence would not be inconsistent with the existence of a masonry structure within the pre-existing castle complex that may have been dismantled as part of Henry III’s 1221 command to demolish the castle.

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Plate 2  South-west curtain, lower walling section employing re-cycled building material; blocks detailed with a keeled angle roll are indicated. Copyright Addyman Archaeology

Masonry castle of the early-mid 13th century

The earliest in situ masonry that is recognizable on site comprises components of the inner ward’s perimeter, where stratigraphic evidence defined by the present survey is broadly in accord with accounts by previous commentators.  In terms of dating, G.T.  Clark (1884, 415) noted, ‘The foundations of the western tower, and of the greater part of its contiguous curtains, so far as they contain the upper ward, are probably Norman, and may be the work of William de Meschines, in the reign of Henry I’.  However, subsequent writers assign these components to the early-mid 13th century and propose the new masonry construction to have taken place in the context of a comprehensive dismantling of existing fabric in 1221.  Curwen (1911, 132) suggests this work was carried out under William de Fortibus III (succ.1241, d.1259) …

… to isolate the site effectually, William excavated a very wide ditch, connecting the cliff of the Derwent with the sloping bank of the Cocker.  Within this area the castle formed a spherical triangle of about 42 yards each way, with its angles capped by circular bastion towers.   The basement of the present west tower is of this period; so also is some 14 feet high of the present south curtain and the lower portion of the north curtain.   The footings of the eastern curtain also remain, but the most interesting point to note is the one door jamb, which still remains erect, sufficient to reveal to us where the gatehouse of this early castle stood ….  An outer bailey existed surrounded by a timber palisade. 

The present study broadly confirms this assessment with the exception of the door jamb which it is now suggested may be a secondary insertion of the later 14th century.  If that is the case then the location and configuration of the 13th century entrance to the inner ward remains an open question.

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Curtain walls

As recognized by Curwen and others these works include the lower walling sections incorporated within the existing inner ward’s curtain walling to the north and south-west; this is of somewhat mixed rubble build and contains few features other than remains of three pilaster buttresses rising from plinths to the south-west exterior and possible evidence for others to the north curtain’s exterior. 

The inner, courtyard-facing side of the existing east range incorporates walling that had probably been of similar character but has now been much reduced and had seen secondary re-facing in most areas.  Better evidence for the form of this east curtain survives as a silhouette of the wall preserved in section on the north side of the bell tower, including its wall walk and parapet (Plate 5, below).

West tower

Much of the lower stage and parts of the exterior skin of the west tower at first floor level is of demonstrably early fabric, faced externally with well-cut dressings that rise from a plinth.  The interior is rounded and features three embrasures of which two still preserve plunging loops with lower fish-tail termini.

Plate 3: Interior of west tower – lower stage looking south-west Copyright Addyman Archaeology
Plate 4: Exterior of west tower – detail of early loop. Copyright Addyman Archaeology

Bell tower

The other major survival from this period is the bell tower, which stands almost to its full height.  This is located at a key point of the defensive perimeter of the inner ward, at its south-east angle, the point of junction with the exterior scarp and the defensive ditch immediately to the east.  The tower is also faced with well-cut squared dressings, its walling rising from what seems to have been a massively constructed basal batter (Plate 5 – D). 

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Plate 5  North side of the bell tower showing evidence for the original east curtain wall where it had converged (A), and associated features – (B) wall walk, (C) parapet, (D) silhouette of possible batter to tower base, (E) jamb of entrance – possibly secondary. Copyright Addyman Archaeology

Of solid construction below, the tower’s upper stage features a chamber with entrances accessible from the south-west and east curtain wall-walks.  The tower top seems to have been remodelled and its original configuration lost.   The chamber’s entrances are of distinctive character, with relieving arches over, not inconsistent with an earlier 13th century date, Plate 6.

Plate 6  Bell tower – detail of entrance to north side of upper stage. Copyright Addyman Archaeology

The contrast between the constructional character of the principal features of the walled circuit, the bell tower and west tower, faced with cut stone, and that of the rubble masonry employed for the general construction of the curtain walling is marked.

A further wall section of similar rubble character forms a continuation of the south curtain that extends eastwards from the side of the bell tower and seems to have closed off the south end of the early ditch before continuing beyond it as part of a curtain circuit that had enclosed the outer ward.  Within the outer ward area excavations in the early 20th century revealed what was interpreted as a footing for a circular tower at the south-east angle of the outer ward’s circuit, an apparent predecessor to the existing flag tower, of later 14th century date.

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The lower part of the curtain wall section adjacent to the bell tower preserves a broad relieving arch, rubble-built of large blocks, Plate 7.  It appears to have been intended to provide structural support where the curtain crossed the area of the defensive ditch.  In apparent corroboration of this interpretation there is a discernible sag in the coursing of the masonry below the arch.  An opening at higher level within this curtain section seems to be coeval with it and may have functioned as a postern, perhaps accessed internally by means of a gantry arrangement; externally the scarp slope rises to the level of the entrance.  

Plate 7     Section of south-west curtain as seen within the south lodging block; relieving arch indicated. Copyright Addyman Archaeology
Figure 3  Plan of the inner ward area showing locations of surviving features of earlier date discussed in the text, highlighted in red (Addyman Archaeology 2026)

Conclusion

Though now reduced to large fragments of its curtain wall and two towers enough still survives to demonstrate the masonry castle of the early-mid 13th century to have been a substantial construction whose circuit had encompassed the footprint of the existing inner and outer wards and whose defensive arrangement provided the underlying structure that governed the character of the castle’s subsequent development in the 14th century.  There is little physical indication within the standing fabric for the interior structures at this period although significant evidence may survive below ground.  It also remains an open question as to nature of the early access arrangements to each of the wards.

The following blog will examine the redevelopment of the castle in the mid part of the 14th century under the de Lucy family.

Tom Addyman, drawing upon historical research by Edward Impey

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References

Clark GT 1874 ‘Cockermouth Castle’ in The Builder, Vol.  32, 944-7

Clark GT 1884 Medieval Military Architecture in England, 2 vols., London, vol.  1, 409-18

Curwen JF 1911 ‘Cockermouth Castle’, TCWAAS, 11, 129-158

Curwen JF 1913 Castles and Fortified Towers of Cumberland and Westmorland and Lancashire North of the Sands : CWAAS Extra Series 13, 127-33

Grose F 1775 (new edition of 1756 original), Antiquities of England and Wales (London) Vol.  1, 49-51

Knowles Rev Canon and Jackson W 1880 ‘A Descriptive Account of Cockermouth Castle’ in TCWAAS Vol.  4, 130-38

Castles and Portcullises

In a guest post, our patron and leading castle expert Dr Edward Impey You can learn more about other aspects of castles as well as portcullises in his newly published book, English Castles, published by Liverpool University Press.

Along with battlements and arrow-loops the toothy grille of the portcullis is a detail clearly spelling ‘castle’ in medieval images, heraldry, modern illustrations, cartoons, film sets and children’s drawings. But however well-known and familiar as a motif, aspects of the structure and even the function of portcullises, known to us today almost exclusively from the grooves surviving in the stone side-walls of gateways, remain poorly understood.

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Cover page of The Broacun Carsle by Frances Impey aged 5. Although flanked by battlemented towers it is the giant portcullis which leaves no doubt as to the subject.

As with those other details, the portcullis has a long pedigree, stretching back to Antiquity and beyond. The earliest known English example may be in the great tower at Colchester, where the grooves clearly belong to the work of c.1080, although the gatehouse at Arundel, possibly as early as the 1070s, is a contender. They remain rare, however, for most of the 12th century, but towards its end appear in Alexander Neckam’s list of a castle’s essentials, and were soon to become a near-standard feature of defensible entrances: as he terms them, as in classical Latin, cataractae (waterfalls), although our word derives less picturesquely from the Old French, porte coleice, literally ‘sliding door’ (today porte coulissante); the alternative French term herse is borrowed from the wooden harrow which it closely resembles. As also with drawbridges, portcullises outlived the Middle Ages, appearing in Henry VIII’s ‘device’ forts and later still. In scale they ranged upwards from the ‘person-sized’, as found in the Marten Tower of 1288-93 at Chepstow, the great tower of Knaresborough (1307-12), and later in the century at Harewood, the halls at Kenilworth, Appleby and Egremont and the courtyard at Bolton. At the other extreme was the monstrous affair at least intended for St Thomas’s Tower (‘Traitor’s Gate’) at the Tower of London in the 1270s, an unwieldy 24ft (7.3m) wide, although perhaps never fitted: the grille we see there today is later and fixed. What we know of their construction begins of course with the grooves, generally 3-4 inches across: early ones are invariably square-backed, but from the early 13th century increasingly rounded at the rear, followed by a general reversion to square from about 1350. Whilst portcullises frequently appear in Medieval illustrations, carpentry detail does not, but fortunately a few actually survive. French examples include the Porte des Champs at Angers of 1373-84, and one of 1390-1404 at Blandy-les-Tours: in the British Isles the oldest is the Byward Tower portcullis at the Tower, completed for Edward I in or by 1281, still accompanied by functioning and part-contemporary winding gear. The latest medieval survivor is probably at Hever, in the boldly machicolated gatehouse of the 1380s. All these examples have grilles of strictly vertical and horizontal bars, but medieval images, such as formerly in the Painted Chamber at Westminster, occasionally show diagonal variants.

The original portcullis of c.1280 at the Byward Tower at the Tower of London, shown in the lowered position in a photograph of 1898  © Royal Collection Enterprises Limited 2023.

The survivors are assembled using halving-joints, mortices and tenons and/or lap-dovetails, nails, wedges and pegs, as in the rear framing of many medieval doors, along with iron reinforcements and spikes at the lower edge. The earliest ones, however, known from grooves as little as 6cm (2 ½ in) wide, may have been of solid boards to give them any useful strength: in a full-size portcullis the iron grilles confidently cited by some authors, would surely have been impossibly heavy. The design of their winding gear is more elusive still, confined usually to enigmatic holes in the associated masonry overhead, but fortunately at the Byward Tower the kit largely survives, an arrangement of ropes and a giant timber axle operated with capstan-bars. Something similar is to be found at Monk Bar, York, and there are other fragments elsewhere.

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The physicality of the portcullis, however, is one thing, but why they were quite so beloved of the medieval castle-builder is less clear. And beloved they were, abundantly fitted, as has been seen, to entrances large and small, and frequently in multiples– six, for example, being intended for the King’s Gate at Caernarfon, and four at Beaumaris. This required considerable commitment, and as with any machinery, such as for drawbridges, raising water and grinding corn, portcullises were expensive, one retrofitted at White Castle in 1256-57 costing £1.7s, twenty-six times the cost of a set of gates installed at the same time. Although less prone to decay than the drawbridges, they also required careful maintenance. They were also immensely inconvenient, as along with their mechanisms they almost always obtruded into the rooms over the gateway, a natural site for an important room and in many cases a chapel.   

Cut-away reconstruction of the gatehouse of the 1280s at Harlech, showing the succession of means by which the gate-passage could be closed off, including three portcullises © Crown Copyright (2026) Cadw,  illustration by Chris Jones Jenkins

Clearly, portcullises had a defensive function. However, although often shielded by a raised drawbridge (although not gates, usually behind them), they were too fragile to resist artillery and medieval images suggest that in action they could be drawn up out of harm’s way. Practically, then,  their role was essentially ‘anti-personnel’, allowing the near-instant closing of an entrance, and potentially trapping a rash intruder, cited as a useful function by the Roman author Vegetius. Recorded medieval instances, however, are rare, one being a failed attempt at Dunbar in 1338 to ensnare the commander of the English assailants. Medieval fiction, though contains at least one other, in Chrétien de Troyes’s Yvain ou le Chevalier au Lion of c.1180, in which the outer porte colanz of Esclados’s castle crashed down, killing Yvain’s horse and severing his spurs, while a second one trapped him in the gate passage. Fortunately for Yvain, however, he escaped, with the aid of a charming maiden and a magic ring.

Late 15th-century misericord carving in St Mary’s Church at Enville in Staffordshire, showing a falling portcullis trapping the Arthurian hero Yvain and killing his horse. The scene is depicted in at least five other English medieval wood carvings. © Dave McGirr

Defensively, a portcullis in the lowered position would also have allowed, unlike most gates, for a defending force to shoot at their assailants through it, although providing very little protection against return fire: a rare if later instance in which this was clearly anticipated is found once again at the Byward gate to the Tower, where the portcullis was pierced by a giant ‘cat-flap’ in the 1840s, allowing a grape-shot laden carronade to mow down revolting Chartists. To complicate things still further, though, some portcullises, must, bizarrely, have been of little practical value at all, as their grooves descend only to the springing of the gate arch, as at Château Gaillard, Alnwick, Bamburgh, Warkworth, Chepstow (Upper Gatehouse of 1270-1306), and the Queen’s Gate at Caernarfon.

The portcullis’s credentials as a straightforward piece of military hardware therefore had their limits. This leads us towards an explanation so often and so dangerously applied to castles as a whole, that their primary purpose was for effect, but for which the portcullis was supremely well equipped.

First, in the fanged and fearsome frontage the raised portcullis gave to an entrance. But what was perhaps their most important contribution, lost to us today bar in the handful of castles, such as Cahir in County Tipperary, where a re-created portcullis actually works, is the drama of their operation. Modern castle studies rightly drums into us the importance of ceremonial and effect, and the contribution of the portcullis to the rite of passage into a medieval castle, punctuated and announced with mighty clangs and bangs and muffled swearing must have been an impressive experience.

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English Castles 1050-1450 by Dr Edward Impey, published by Liverpool University Press is available in all good book shops. You can learn more about it here: English Castles 1050-1450 | Home

The role of siege warfare in halting the crusader advance: The challenge of the big cities

In his latest book, Crusader Storm, Dr Nic Morton takes a new look at the Crusades, as not as a single clash of faiths, but as a dynamic era of war, commerce, innovation and exchange. In this piece he looks at why the crusaders struggled to expand their territory after their initial success.

Viewed from a purely military perspective, the First Crusade was a wildly over-ambitious undertaking.  When Pope Urban II launched the campaign in 1095, he set participants the challenge of marching for hundreds of miles through friendly, then hostile territory, during which they would need to confront and defeat a whole series of enemy armies before taking and holding the city of Jerusalem.

Crusader Storm book cover

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The chances of surviving the venture were extremely low and the early waves of crusaders all met with defeat very quickly, but the final wave achieved its objective and – as is well known – brutally conquered Jerusalem in 1099.  In later years, the crusaders (or “Franks” as they came to be known) expanded their territories, working outwards from the cities they acquired or conquered during the crusade: Edessa, Antioch and Jerusalem.  Bolstered by tens of thousands of pilgrims, mercenaries and settlers from Western Christendom, these territories, known collectively as the Crusader States, continued to expand for two decades, pushing their frontiers outwards seizing many towns and castles. 

So what stopped them?  Why didn’t they continue to expand until the entire region lay under their dominion? This blog post will explore this question by focusing on one very serious obstacle to their continued expansion – the major cities of Damascus, Aleppo and Cairo.

The Lebanese coast, copyright Dr Nic Morton

Spool forward to the early 1120s and the Crusader States had grown considerably.  In the south, the kingdom of Jerusalem (the largest Crusader State) controlled much of the Levantine coastline from Beirut in the north, down to Jaffa in the south, extending inland beyond the Jordan river.  In the north, the principality of Antioch, county of Tripoli, and county of Edessa were also major powers, despite a serious defeat suffered by Antioch in 1119.  Most of the coastline, complete with its major commercial ports, lay under their control and increasingly they turned their attention inland. 

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This is where they faced the biggest obstacles to their continued expansion.  Frankish armies couldn’t seize Syria in its entirety without tackling the fortress cities of Damascus or Aleppo, and they couldn’t expand into Egypt without conquering Cairo.  Over the next five decades the Franks made serious attempts to seize each of these cities: Aleppo in 1124-5, Damascus in 1129 and 1148, and Cairo in 1168, but they failed each time.  What I’m describing here is their high-water mark, the culmination point – the line beyond which they proved unable to expand. 

So why were they so consistently unsuccessful?  Why couldn’t they capture these cities?  When historians discuss the conquest of major castles or cities, they typically talk about these strongholds’ fortifications and the siege weapons used to tackle them.  But with big cities, there is another point to consider – the urban populations themselves.  These were all very large cities, home to tens of thousands of people – in Cairo’s case possibly hundreds of thousands – far bigger than anything they had tackled so far.  There was every danger that a besieging army would fight its way across the ramparts only to be cut to pieces by the population as the attacking Franks became split up within a maze of narrow streets and alleyways.  This was a serious concern.  Notably when the Turkish ruler Zangi besieged Damascus in 1139, insiders offered to open one of the gates for him, but he still refused to order the attack; seemingly he knew very well that the population would resist his attempts to take control and they – not the fortifications – were the major obstacle.

Citadel of Aleppo, rebuilt in the early thirteenth century, copyright Dr Nic Morton

In this way, the conquest of these cities – and therefore the continued expansion of the Crusader States – hinged on the Franks’ ability to persuade urban populations either to endorse, or at least to tolerate, the idea of Frankish rule.  For cities of this size, simple military overthrow wasn’t sufficient to guarantee their control in the long run.  Some Frankish commanders recognised this reality and, when King Baldwin II of Jerusalem besieged Aleppo in 1124-5 he worked with an Arab ruler named Dubays who he planned to install as a client ruler in the event of the city’s fall.  Unfortunately for them, Aleppo’s population didn’t favour the idea of Dubays as their new client ruler and they resisted their besiegers vigorously (and successfully).  Likewise, in 1129 Baldwin II tried to conquer Damascus with assistance from the city’s Nizari community (commonly known today as the “Assassins”), but the city’s governor massacred the Nizaris before the Frankish army could arrive. The Franks were less effective at winning the population’s support in their later endeavours but in every case, the broad consensus among the general population remained a vital consideration. 

In this way, a decisive factor for the Crusader States in the continued efforts to expand – and a central reason for their failure in these endeavours – were their unsuccessful efforts to gain control over these major cities. Their failure, by extension, enabled resistance to gather in these cities and, in later decades, these regional capitals acted as marshalling points for the Crusader States’ overthrow.

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Tree-ring dating of previously unidentified Elizabethan roofs at Sudeley Castle

Dr Andy Moir of Gloucestershire Historic Buildings Group takes a look at the results from their attempts to date the outer ward of Sudeley Castle

Tree-ring dating at Sudeley Castle has established that the outer courtyard roofs were constructed over three years between 1569 and 1572. This result overturns the previous history which indicated that the castle roofs were destroyed during the Civil war and identifies that the roofs were likely built by Edmund Brydges (the 2nd Lord Chandos).

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Sudeley Castle Outer Courtyard looking north, copyright Dr Andy Moir

Sudeley Castle has Saxon origins, but its history really developed from 1441 with Ralph Boteler (Baron Sudeley and Lord Chamberlain of the King’s Household) who set about developing a castle to reflect his new-found status. In later Tudor times, Thomas Seymour was granted the castle by Henry VIII and after marrying the king’s widow, Katherine Parr he set about refurbishment of the Sudeley Estate. Katherine became pregnant at a relatively late age and unfortunately died a few days after childbirth. Following her death and Seymour’s arrest for treason following his desperate attempt to grab power at the expense of his brother Edward Seymour, the castle was then gifted to John Brydges, the Constable of the Tower of London. This gift by Queen Mary I was followed with the title of Lord Chandos being granted to the family.  John’s successor, Edmund Brydges seems to have been further developing the castle, enhancing the work of Boteler and Seymour and the family contributed to Winchcombe with the building of Almshouses by Edmund’s wife Dorothy. The Brydges family maintained the castle throughout the rest of the Tudor times and supported the Royalist cause following the start of the Civil War.

Besieging Sudeley Castle in 1643, during the Civil War

Sudeley had been used as the base by both Prince Rupert and Charles I from where they had launched attacks on Cirencester and preparations had been made to attack Gloucester. Following these failed attempts, Parliamentary troops had successfully besieged the castle on two occasions, bombarding the castle with cannon and after the second siege, the order was given for a systematic slighting (made un-inhabitable). Roofs were taken off and many walls were razed to the ground. Details of the destruction became clear when Lady Jane Brydges widow of George Chandos tried to sue for recompense. This was shown by depositions in the archives taken from five craftsmen stating that the castle had been fully destroyed and this had been signed off by two judges from Gloucester, Edward Slaughter and Robert Megge, but as the dendrochronology report went onto show, the slighting was not as comprehensive as claimed and roofs to the East, West and part of the North range of the outer courtyard were still intact.

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 It had previously been thought that the castle had been left in ruins for the next 180 years, and few of the original structures at Sudeley Castle were thought to have survived before extensive restoration in the 19th century funded by the Dent brothers and their heir John Coucher Dent and his wife Emma.

In 2025 castle archivist Derek Maddock invited the Gloucestershire Building Recording Group (GBRG) to survey the outer courtyard roofs. Unexpectedly, the survey identified that east, west and north range roofs of the outer courtyard contained mainly oak timbers that were likely to be Elizabethan. As this finding completely changed understanding of the castle’s history, a project to precisely tree-ring date the roofs was conceived. This project was supported by the Castle’s owner, Lady Ashcombe, and funded by the Castle Studies Trust (www.castlestudistrust.org).

Dr Andy Moir of GHBG taking one of the 30 core samples from the roof.

The 2026 project saw 30 pencil-like core samples drilled from the castle roofs. Tree-ring series from twenty of these timbers matched together to form a 159-year mean chronology that was dated to span 1413 to 1571. The oldest tree used in construction of the roof started growing in 1413 and the trees were all felled between the spring of 1569 and the winter of 1571/2.  As it was common medieval practice to convert the tree into timbers before they seasoned, construction of the east, north and west range roofs of the outer courtyard likely occurred between 1569 and 1572. To give some idea of the scale of the construction, the west, north and east range roofs are around 36m, 38m and 46m in length, respectively. Yet still the carpenters of the day likely managed to complete this huge construction over just three years. This result therefore overturns the previous history which indicated that the castle roofs were destroyed during the Civil war and identifies that the roofs were likely built by Edmund Brydges (the 2nd Lord Chandos). A fantastic development in the history of Sudeley Castle.

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The Tower House Problem

Dr Sarah Kerr, Lecturer in Archaeology at University College Cork and expert grants assessor for the Trust, takes a look at her new focus of study, Tower Houses in Ireland, and the issues involved in researching them.

Tower houses have received considerable attention in recent years, most notably Victoria L McAlister’s monograph on the subject (McAlister 2019). Her work brought to the fore the multiplicity of functions performed by tower houses particularly their crucial role in exploiting the natural environment and contributing to national and international economies. Breen and Raven focused on Gaelic-maintained areas on the long western coast of Ireland and considered late medieval tower houses as the primary expression of secular lordship (Breen et al. 2017, 151). Both important pieces of work drew upon – and contributed to – the landscape turn in castle studies by exploring the wider, often maritime, environment.

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Despite these recent developments there are arguably a number of issues which inhibit our understanding of tower houses and may even restrict future avenues of research. Summarised as the tower house problem, these issues are highlighted in the hope that greater awareness may assist averting the limitations they impose. There was a vast – albeit unknown – number of tower houses in use contemporaneously in late medieval Ireland. Harold Leask, (d. 1964) the first Inspector of National Monuments in Ireland, calculated that some three thousand tower houses were documented in the Ordnance Survey maps. Therefore he provided the minimum number of how many existed prior to the mid-nineteenth century (Leask 1941; McAlister 2019, 12; Sherlock 2011, 115). Estimations have varied to over 7000 while the Archaeological Survey of Ireland list approximately 1300 known examples (Sherlock 2011, 115; Barry 1993; Barry 2008b, 129). The result is descriptions of Ireland as ‘the most castellated country in Europe’ (Barry 2008) or ‘one of the most castellated parts’ of the Irish and British Isles (Cairns 1987, 31; O’Conor 1998, 25). Certain areas represent this clearly, particularly in Munster and Leinster, with clusters of tower houses in close proximity to one another.

This vast archaeological record has posed a problem for archaeologists and much work of the 1990s and early 2000s focused on creating types and sub-types to dissect the record into manageable portions. Creation of types based on architectural similarities is useful for understanding individual examples and provincial trends but it doesn’t address the phenomenon of the tower house, the vast numbers and clustering in certain areas. As a method it is therefore limited in its usefulness. In addition, it can led to creating boxes and trying to make examples fit therein, which has obvious shortcomings and may result in overlooking the uniqueness of each example.

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There is a problem more fundamental to tower house research that needs addressed: should they be considered castles? Tower houses are often referred to as castles, small castles or a type of castle and this seems rational as some examples were described as castellum, cúirt or fortalicium by their contemporaries (McAlister 2019, 15). Their architecture supports this classification, as they display features found frequently at larger castles, such as those built by the Anglo-Normans in Ireland around two centuries before tower house building commenced. These accepted castle attributes include machicolations, battlements, arrow loop windows, narrow entrances and thick walls. Other common castle features identified less commonly at tower houses include yetts (iron gate), hagioscopes (squint at the door allowing a line of sight outside), bawns (enclosure wall), adjoined towers, and some ornamentation such as hood mouldings.  

Figure 1: Leamcon (Blackcastle) Castle, copyright Dr Sarah Kerr

This is where the comparison ends, however, as the form of tower houses was distinct from Anglo-Norman castles. Tower houses were comparatively narrow towers comprising as least three storeys, such as Leamcon locally known as Blackcastle (Figure 1) in West Cork. A batter was required to aid stability (thicker walls at the base) which created slightly larger rooms at the upper levels than those on the lower levels. Windows increased in size with height, with small and sparse windows lower on the façade to create a solid and strong base. Vaults were invariably included within to further aid their structural integrity. These were often at ground-floor level but vaults on other floors were also commonplace. At the upper levels there was a wall-walk, pitched wooden roof and crenelated parapet. The latter could take the form of stepped merlons, often attributed to the Gaelic founders, or the square-crenels type, built primarily by English and Scottish settlers. In addition to the clear architectural differences between earlier stone-built castles of the Anglo-Norman period and tower house, their functions were different. Anglo-Norman castles were tools in colonialism (for example, Trim in Figure 2) and displays of the same whereas tower houses were built by Anglo-Irish and Gaelic elites, merchants and rural landowners, lay and ecclesiastical lords during a period of relative peace and economic prosperity. Some comparison between the types have focused on the towers (donjons or keeps) that were the focal point of Anglo-Norman castles however conclusions are limited due to the scarcity of work carried out on tower house settlements; that is, in their immediate surrounds.

Figure 2: Trim Castle, copyright Dr Sarah Kerr

I have recently made the argument that, combined, the above issues create the tower house problem and awareness of this is required to continue studying these buildings in an effective way. The tower house problem is typified in West Cork, a culturally distinct area west of Cork City that encompasses the south-west coastline of Ireland and comprises large peninsulas with numerous small inlets and embayments. The area is dense with extant and lost late medieval tower houses; Figure 3, is a photograph taken from Rincolisky (Whitehall) tower house with Kilcoe tower house visible across the bay. Recent fieldwork sought to examine the density of tower houses, examples of which are sometimes referred to as the ‘West Cork type’, and consider the phenomenon through the lens of spatial analysis, placename evidence and architectural analysis – results forthcoming. The fieldwork however has presented broader questions about whether we should consider tower houses castles. Either way, to do so or not should be justified perhaps with reflection upon terminological limitations. Accepting the distinctiveness of tower houses might be more productive in further understanding the reasons behind their construction and use – and crucially overcoming the tower house problem.  

Figure 3: Whitehall and Kilcoe Tower Houses, copyright Dr Sarah Kerr

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Barry, T. 1993. The archaeology of the tower house in later medieval Ireland. In H. Andersson & J. Weinberg (eds) The Study of Medieval Archaeology, 211–18. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International

Barry, T. 2008a. The study of medieval Irish castle: a bibliographic survey. Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy: Archaeology, Culture, History, Literature 108 (C): p.115-136.

Barry, T. 2008b. The study of medieval Irish castles: a bibliographic survey. Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy. Section C: Archaeology, Celtic Studies, History, Linguistics, Literature 108C: p.115–136.

Breen, C., & Raven, J. 2017. Maritime Lordship in Late-Medieval Gaelic Ireland. Medieval Archaeology 61(1): p.149–182.

Cairns, C.T. 1987. Irish tower houses: A Co. Tipperary case study. Dublin: Trinity College Dublin.

Leask, H.G. 1941. Irish castles and castellated houses Revised edition. Dundalk: Dundalgan Press.

McAlister, V. 2019. The Irish tower house: Society, economy and environment, c. 1300-1650 1st edition. Manchester (GB): P648 – MANCHESTER UNIV PR.

O’Conor, K.D. 1998. The Archaeology of Medieval Rural Settlement in Ireland. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy.

Sherlock, R. 2011. The evolution of the Irish tower-house as a domestic space. Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy. Section C: Archaeology, Celtic Studies, History, Linguistics, Literature 111C: p.115–140.

Edlingham – the 13th–14th century Northumbrian house of a well-travelled knight of the royal household

Between 1978-1982 Graham Fairclough led the excavation of Edlingham Castle, Northumberland. Rather than write up a traditional excavation report in his new book he takes a different and fascinating approach to understanding more about this castle.

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Edlingham Castle, in Northumberland between Rothbury and Alnwick, comprises the remains of a medieval fortified house excavated for the predecessor of English Heritage between 1978 and 1982, and freely open to the public from the mid-1980s. The earliest known building is a hall-house (to use a slightly contested term) of c.1295-1300, probably originally inside a palisaded moated enclosure, but to this was added a chamber tower in the 1330s or ‘40s and a stone gatehouse. Its enclosing walls were rebuilt on several occasions until by the sixteenth century the place resembled a small courtyard house, which was finally abandoned by the 1650s. Edlingham thus shows in microcosm the impact of Anglo-Scottish border warfare in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and of endemic lawlessness in the sixteenth, centuries. Another narrative, however, from a sociological perspective, first places the site and its owners in a national or even European context, and only in its later centuries into a more local, county-scale, world. A third Edlingham story would take most account of its architecture, notably the distinctive hall-house which before excavation was only guessed-at, and its imposing later tower that has usually been seen as part of the border ‘pele tower’ narrative – but both demand wider notice.

Air photo (with help from RAF Boulmer and one of their air-sea rescue helicopters) showing Edlingham Castle during excavation in 1979, from left, tower, hall-house, courtyard and walls of vaious dates (half-unexcavated) and gatehouse (unexcavated)

The excavations of 1978-82 focussed on the buried material remains of the site, which were described archaeologically and architecturally in summary interim articles prepared during the excavation and shortly afterwards. In my recent book, I took a different approach, and used biography – predominantly that of the castle’s first builder William de Felton, but also at some periods his peers, neighbours and family, as far as they are known – to inquire into Edlingham’s context and origins, and what might have influenced William in building the hall-house at Edlingham.

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Born and probably raised in Shropshire, in some uncertain way an offshoot of the large Lestrange clan of Shropshire and Norfolk, William de Felton’s first small landholding was in Northamptonshire; he acquired land in Northumberland in the late 1270s on marriage to a Northumbrian heiress, Constance de Pontop, and he acquired Edlingham only in 1295. By then he had been a member of the royal household since c. 1278, as a personal usher (husser) in Edward I’s private chamber. He travelled the length and breadth of England and Wales with the king, spending three years in France, mainly in Gascony and Béarn. His duties included supervising the king’s personal building works, but he was also a soldier, and had fought in Wales, Flanders and Scotland. He was constable of a succession of royal castles in Wales, Scotland and England, notably, in company with the famous James of St George, Beaumaris and Linlithgow while they were under construction. Given his travels and experience, therefore, it is not surprising that whatever William was to build at Edlingham was not necessarily going to have a regional or local inspiration.

The valley of the Edlingham Burn: village, church and the castle showing its valley bottom location, copyright Graham Fairclough

The biographical approach taken in ‘A Medieval Life’ illuminates Edlingham’s origins in several ways. It is a current maxim in castle studies that castles and other elite houses should be considered in the context of their territories or landscapes, but this involves more than land and its affordances but more widely the social affinities, perceptions and abilities of their builders and inhabitants. Knowing a little of the events and travels of William’s life thus becomes significant in how we see Edlingham. My book therefore reflects on the accuracy or desirability of seeing Edlingham as a ‘Northern’ castle, coloured by a perception of Northumberland as a violent, vulnerable and distant (indeed different) border region. For William (and probably for his son and at least his first grandson), the house at Edlingham belonged to a much wider psychological and emotional landscape. Understanding the origins and early decades of the castle’s life reveals the mentality of a social and geographical network far beyond Northumberland.

Finally, let us not forget modern biography. The excavation and my early work on it occurred when I was an Inspector of Ancient Monuments, my work focussed on the material remains of the past. Since, roughly speaking, the middle 1990s, however, my work turned increasingly towards landscape ways of seeing the past. ‘A Medieval Life’, therefore, as well as being a biography, and an archaeology and history book, is also at least in intention a landscape book.

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A Medieval Life: William de Felton and Edlingham Castle, 1260-1327 was published by Windgather Press (Oxbow books) in March 2025. A paper for Archaeologia Aeliana is also in preparation, and on 30 September 2026, Graham Fairclough is scheduled to give a talk about Edlingham and the book to the Society of Antiquaries of Newcastle upon Tyne.

Graham Fairclough, latterly of Newcastle University and before that Historic England and its predecessors, https://www.ncl.ac.uk/hca/people/profile/grahamfairclough.html, led five years of excavation at Edlingham Castle in Northumberland between 1978 and 1982. Early full publication of excavation results is a goal much-desired, but there is an argument for longer periods of reflection, and the recent book ‘A Medieval Life’ is a more matured discussion of the castle and the excavation framed primarily as a biography of its first builder, William de Felton.

Castle Studies Trust 2026 Grant Awards

The Castle Studies Trust is delighted to announce the award of eight grants, totalling a record  £44,500, to a wide range of projects involving a wide variety of research methods. This total means that, since our foundation, we will have given nearly £350,000 to castle research projects – a landmark to celebrate.

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Cockermouth Kitchen Tower and Great Hall Range from river, copyright Richard Oram

Cockermouth, Cumbria: Cockermouth Castle is an extensively surviving major multi-phase northern fortress whose evolutionary history has never been subject to systematic or formal assessment.  The building survey will focus upon developing a detailed understanding of the physical fabric of the castle’s inner ward structures with a view to mapping their evolution, and to provide contextualization by relating the major building periods to the site’s known history and occupancy, and in terms of the broader evolution of castle architecture. The survey will be carried out by Tom Addyman with the support of Edward Impey and Richard Oram.

Durham Castle’s twelfth century entrance way, copyright Dr Andrew Ferrara

Durham Castle, County Durham: Investigating the Twelfth-Century Entranceway of Durham Castle. The aim of the project is to utilise digital archaeological techniques to create high-resolution images and models of the twelfth-century archway into Durham Castle’s North Range, enabling detailed investigation of the architectural features. The Durham University team carrying out the work will be led by Andrew Ferrara and Giles Gasper.

Ellesmere Castle from the air, copyright Joe Bickerton

Ellesmere, Shropshire: Geophysical survey of the large motte and bailey castle in Shropshire which, prior to June 2024, had never been surveyed before when the large motte was surveyed by GPR which revealed possible buildings. The resistivity and magnetometry surveys would confirm that, as well as extend the survey to the rest of the site which played an active part in the Marcher disputes in the reign of Henry III. The survey, carried out by Heneb, will take place in the week starting 9 March, with the results ready in the early summer.

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Fyvie Castle, copyright National Trust of Scotland

Fyvie, Aberdeenshire: The project aims to create new interpretation drawings to showcase key stages in the architectural development of the castle, which dates to the thirteenth century, and share these as part of outreach and engagement. The drawings by Jan Dunbar will be commissioned by Annie Robertson of the National Trust and are expected to start in April.

Kilkenny Castle, copyright of the Discovery Programme

Kilkenny, Leinster, Republic of Ireland: This project proposes the use of geophysical survey to locate and map the lost Flemingstown of Kilkenny Castle – a unique example of a purpose-built Flemish colonial suburb. While some of the outer ward has already been investigated, the one area missing has been around the site of the township’s tower. The geophysical survey will be carried out by The Discovery Programme and will take place in early to mid March, led by David Stone with the support of Susan Currant and Coilin O Drisceoil.

Newcastle Keep, copyright Peter Purton

Newcastle, Northumberland: To co-fund the publication of the report of the excavations of Newcastle Castle, one of the major royal castles in the North East of England, which took place over 20 years between 1974-95. The funds will be for synthesising all the different excavations, updating specialist reports and preparing relevant reports. We are only part funding £2,000 of the £8,000 asked for, as we lacked the means to fund any more. . The grant from the CST will allow him to commission the illustration work for the building interpretation and the excavation illustrations. The part funding has also spurred on other funders to cover the remaining part of the grant. The project will be led by Don O’Meara of the Society of Antiquaries of Newcastle with the support of John Nolan and Richard Pears.

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Ruthin Castle great gatehouse, copyright Ruthin Castle Preservation Trust

Ruthin, Denbighshire: Co-funding a structural survey and analysis of the great gatehouse of this formidable thirteenth century baronial castle that was a key part of Edward I’s strategy to secure the conquest of Wales. The project is led by Fiona Gale, chair of the Ruthin Castle Preservation Trust who will commission Mann Williams to do the survey with add context provided by Will Davies from Cadw.

Sudeley Castle outer courtyard, copyright Andy Moir

Sudeley Castle, Gloucestershire: Tree-ring dating and recording with 3D imaging the original roofs of Sudeley Castles Outer Courtyard Ranges. The castle site dates to the anarchy but the castle was rebuilt in the fifteenth century by Lord Sudeley. The sampling and photography will take place on 25 and 26 February. The project will be led by Andy Moir of the Gloucestershire Building Recording Group.

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Higham Ferrers – A Royal Castle Revealed

In 2024, we awarded Stephen Parry in conjunction with MoLA a grant to carry out some geophysical surveys in the town of Higham Ferrers to find the lost royal castle once there. Stephen explains what happened next and what they found.

Over a ten-month period during 2024-25, a team of archaeologists used a combination of ground penetrating radar (GPR), magnetometry and earth resistance survey to reveal some of the mysteries of Higham Ferrers Castle, gaining new insights into what this royal castle might have looked like.

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A generous grant from the Castle Studies Trust, supplemented by further grants from East Northamptonshire Council, Higham Ferrers Town Council and Tony & Jennifer Norman and with the support the Higham Ferrers Archaeology and Research Society (HiFARS), enabled archaeologists Stephen Parry (Finham Heritage),  John Walford and Graham Arkley (Museum of London Archaeology) to undertake this project.

No remains of the castle survive above ground today so, before this project, our understanding was largely based on historical documentary evidence. This showed that the Castle was, at least from the early fourteenth century, a substantial medieval building with a hall, chapel, tower-house, King’s and Queen’s Chambers, as well as three gatehouses.

The GPR survey produced the most informative results, showing that the foundations of a curtain wall and other buildings of the inner bailey survive under the garden of the Green Dragon Hotel. Other building remains survive to the north, within the likely extent of the outer bailey.

Figure 1: GPR survey results copyright MoLA

The broad foundation of the curtain wall (structure A in figure 3 appears to be made up of short straight lengths perhaps with slight projections at the angles. It probably enclosed an oval area  measuring roughly 29m by 25m across. However, the southern part of its circuit, which must have lain under the churchyard, was not found by the survey and is likely to have been masked, or perhaps even destroyed, by Victorian grave digging.

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Surprisingly, there is a gap of 15m between the curtain wall and the inner bailey ditch, part of which was exposed in a nearby trial trench excavation in 1991. This might imply that the structure was placed on a low earthen bank or ringwork with its sloping sides taking up the intervening space. This earthwork cannot have been a high motte because, if so, the foundations of interior features would not have been dug to below the original ground level. 

Figure 2 results / plots of Ground Penetrating Radar survey of inner bailey and motte
Figure 3: interpretation of GPR results, both copyright MoLA

The foundations of a square gatehouse (structures B and B2), measuring 6m by 6m, were revealed across the line of the curtain wall and would have provided access from the outer bailey to the north.  Inside the curtain wall, the foundations of a large rectangular building measuring 12m by 7m (structure D) may have been the great hall which the documentary sources indicate was rebuilt after a fire in 1409-1410.  The narrowness of the foundations might imply that the hall was timber built.  Other foundations within the curtain wall (structures C and C2) suggest the presence of other buildings that may have predated the fire.  A further building (structure E) may also be part of the castle but other foundations (structures F to J) are more likely to belong to eighteenth and nineteenth century outbuildings of the Green Dragon Hotel.

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While the construction date of the castle is uncertain, pottery excavated from the castle ditch in 1991 suggests a date after 1100. This evidence, albeit limited, suggests that the castle was not built by the elder William Peveril in the immediate wake of the Norman Conquest but either by his son, as a response to civil war during the reign of King Stephen (1135-1154), or else by the de Ferrers who held the manor from 1199 to 1266.

The results of this work, together with the limited trial trenching and documentary evidence, suggest that Higham Ferrers Castle may have looked similar to  Tamworth Castle, Staffordshire, where the curtain wall is also an irregular polygon defining a slightly smaller area of 27.5m by 23m. Further similarities can be found in the central position of the fifteenth century great hall at Tamworth which was originally built of timber and has similar dimensions to the possible hall at Higham Ferrers, measuring at least 11m by 8m.  To continue the analogy with Tamworth to its conclusion we should expect to see at Higham Ferrers a small courtyard between the gatehouse and hall, with the other castle main buildings including the King and Queen’s chambers, chapel and kitchen inside the line of the curtain wall (though as yet no structures have been identified at Higham Ferrers).

Tamworth Castle Shell Keep. Reproduced by kind permission of Tamworth Castle Archives

Original lay out of Tamworth Castle shell keep.Reproduced by kind permission of Tamworth Castle Archives.

The purpose of the structures in the outer bailey and their date are uncertain, but they could represent service buildings including stables, barns, granaries or cowsheds.

The survey project also investigated an area further to the north which is known locally as Castle Field and is often considered to have been the site of the castle. However, no credible evidence of castle buildings was found in this area. Instead, the main finding was a large rectangular feature, believed to be the remains of a fishpond that appears on a map of Higham Ferrers produced in 1591. 

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You can read the full report here: Higham Ferrers, Northamptonshire | Castle Studies Trust

Castles and Towers of Alicante

Juan Antonio Mira Rico, one of the co-editors of a new book (in Spanish and Valencian) on the castles and towers of Alicante looking at how to resurrect interest and use of once much neglected buildings.

The historical dynamics of the present-day province of Alicante, between the 11th and 15th centuries, fostered the proliferation of castles and towers across its mountains. During this era, these lands constituted a contested territory of fluctuating borders: firstly, as part of Šarq Al-Andalus and, subsequently, under the Crowns of Aragon and Castile.

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Torre de les Maçanes tower (late 12th-16th centuries). Author: Manuel Vicedo.

These medieval fortifications are fundamental landmarks that structure the landscape of Alicante and are key to understanding its history, heritage, and tourism dynamics. However, after losing their military function, they fell victim to centuries of neglect. It was not until the second half of the 20th century that their immense value began to be vindicated; recently, many of these structures have been recovered and adapted for visitors, transforming into exhibition and cultural spaces. This process of recovery and enhancement has consolidated a unique heritage asset which, through adequate planning and the use of new technologies, may emerge as a cornerstone of significant economic relevance.

In this context, Castillos y torres de Alicante (Castles and Towers of Alicante) was conceived as a work of dissemination that seeks to transcend classical approaches (archaeological, architectural, and historical). The book focuses exclusively on those visitable castles and towers; that is, those possessing a good state of conservation, regular opening hours, and interpretive facilities to facilitate an understanding of their history.

The backbone of this publication consists of the basic data regarding these assets, structured by comarcas (districts) through datasheets that facilitate visit planning. Complementing these are chapters by various specialists addressing geography, architecture, history, cultural management, and the potential of ICTs in tourism development. This multidisciplinary approach is essential for offering a global and updated vision.

Specifically, the chapter Más allá de la arqueología (Beyond Archaeology) analyses the cultural management of these fortifications. The public cultural management model predominates in the province, similar to that of France or Italy, characterised as being decentralised (competence lies with the Autonomous Community, but daily management is municipal) and simple (the City Council is the sole principal agent).

Nevertheless, new formulas are beginning to emerge, such as the mixed cultural management model implemented at the Santa Bárbara Castle (Alicante). This system is equally decentralised yet complex, as it involves two agents: a public administration (the City Council) and a private company. This constitutes a partial privatisation of management, the long-term results of which remain to be determined.

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Furthermore, the cultural uses of numerous municipally owned castles, as well as their optimal state of conservation, are linked to the territory’s tourism function. It is worth noting that the province of Alicante, under the Costa Blanca brand, is established as one of Spain’s main tourist destinations.

In this context, these fortifications can be classified into two distinct categories. The first category encompasses those fortifications presenting the following characteristics:

  • Small, medium, or large-scale castles whose restoration, although not concluded, is sufficiently advanced to allow for visits.
  • Limited cultural and tourism use, consisting of self-guided, guided, and dramatized tours, on a sporadic or continuous basis, with basic heritage facilities.
  • Generally, the absence of a fixed visiting schedule.
  • Inclusion in this group of small fortifications, such as the Castle of Orba, and others of medium size, such as the Castle of Torre Grossa (Xixona).

The second category is characterized by:

  • Medium and large-scale fortifications whose restoration has been completed or is nearing conclusion.
  • Intensive cultural and tourism use with guided or self-guided tours, as well as occasional dramatized tours, combined with other non-exclusive uses coexisting within the same fortifications:
    • Exhibition spaces: Castles used for exhibitions, such as the Castell de Castalla, a musealized fortification whose contents interpret its history.
    • Museums: Castles converted into museum institutions. The Dénia and Santa Bárbara fortifications, the largest in the territory, house the Archaeological Museum of Dénia and the City of Alicante Museum (MUSA), respectively.
    • Events: Castles destined for local celebrations (Banyeres de Mariola Castle), weddings (Atalaya Castle, Villena), conferences (Castell de Castalla), and musical concerts (Santa Bárbara Castle and Dénia Castle).
    • Gastronomic experiences: Castles utilized as spaces for tasting local beers and wines (Santa Bárbara Castle).
    • Educational purposes: Castles where didactic and pedagogical activities are developed (Castell de Castalla).
  • The existence of a stable visiting schedule.
Castalla Castle (11th-16th centuries). Author: Manuel Vicedo.

All these uses are developed in accordance with various national technical documents, such as the National Plan for Defensive Architecture (Plan Nacional de Arquitectura Defensiva), and international ones, such as the ICOMOS Guidelines on Fortifications and Military Heritage. These regulations establish that castles must be destined for new cultural uses, always respecting their integrity. In this sense, a sustainable and appropriate reuse of fortifications is advocated to avoid the destruction of their authenticity, converting them into landmarks for local communities and into spaces of knowledge for the interpretation of military heritage and the transmission of a message of peace, inclusion, and acceptance.

Link to the book in Spanish: https://publicaciones.ua.es/ca/libro/castillos-y-torres-de-alicante_158855/

Link to the book in Valencian: https://publicaciones.ua.es/ca/libro/castells-i-torres-d-alacant_158849/

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Dutch Transcription and Translation December 2025 Update: Interpreting SP9/99

In their latest update Drs Paul Pattinson and Esther van Raamsdonk look at how far they have progressed with the transcription and translation of the Seventeenth Century survey of fortifications in southern England, revealing some pleasant surprises that have awaited them.

In our last update on Transcribing and Translating SP9/99: A Seventeenth-Century Dutch Survey of 22 English Castles and Fortifications, we concentrated on just that, the challenging process of transcription and translation of a difficult Dutch manuscript that uses unorthodox words (whose meaning is sometimes unknown), a note-like format, and a complete lack of punctuation. That process is now essentially complete, bar a few words that may be technical terms, and about which we are consulting with fortification experts in the Netherlands. However, we can now begin to interpret the manuscript and what it can tell us about the coastal artillery castles and bulwarks along the south-east and south coasts of England in the early seventeenth century.

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After looking briefly at the whole manuscript of 23 folios (46 pages), we can now say that there are details of at least 29 fortifications, not just 23, and that may not be the final number. In due course we hope to establish a complete list. For the time being, the work for which we were generously grant-aided by the CST focussed on 9 folios covering 6 artillery castles, all of which were built or modified during the early stages of the ‘device’ programme of Henry VIII, between 1539 and 1541. We selected these as a suitable sample of the manuscript because historically they formed a discrete group in the jurisdiction of and under the command of the Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports: they are the castles at Sandown, Deal, Walmer, Dover, Sandgate and Camber.

Plan of Sandgate from one of the folios of the document. Courtesy of Paul Pattison

Even though our unknown Dutch engineer was clearly in a hurry with his survey, as we reported last time, his work is accurate. For most sites there is usually a main plan taking up one face of a folio – a detailed and well-proportioned sketch with copious annotations that include measurements and notes on features of interest, sometimes including room use, and often pointing out defects requiring attention. In rare cases a room is named, notably ‘The Queen’s Room’ at Sandgate, a lovely, early reference to a tradition recording Elizabeth I’s stay at the castle in 1572. Sometimes, room functions are specified e.g. the porter’s lodge at Camber, giving valuable insight to the daily workings of a castle.

As well as a main drawing, the engineer also made smaller sketch plans and elevations to show details e.g. an elevation of the cupola at the centre of the roof at Deal Castle, noting also its use as both a gunpowder store and a sea mark; or a plan of a double-splayed gun embrasure at Walmer Castle. Typically, the particulars of each site are further noted in a separate block of text taking up another side of a folio, sometimes also incorporating small sketches. This text tends to summarise defects and requirements, so does not provide a full picture of the castle, but rather concentrates on repairs needed and remedies.

However, there is one atypical folio that mentions two known individuals. One is the relatively well-known master gunner at Dover Castle, William Eldred, notable for his authorship of The Gunners Glasse, a treatise on gunnery published in 1646. The other was a Mr Griffiths, secretary to Edward, Lord Zouche, who was Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports between 1615 and 1625. We are presently exploring them both in the State Papers at the National Archives and in other documents at the British Library and we are confident – and excited – that we will be able to tie down the date of the survey to the year.

The translation of three other folios for Dover Castle represents a real step forward in understanding that castle during this otherwise hazy period in its history. The manuscript names and provides details of eight mural towers, two gates and three other buildings explored by the engineer, most of which we can relate to those surviving today, possibly the earliest evidence we have for named towers in the castle: a few of the names are previously unknown. There are three sketches of tower plans, which should enable their identification: one is certainly Fitzwilliam Gate. Many of the Dover Castle towers needed significant repairs, for which the engineer estimated costs. The Dover folios also record two forts defending the harbour and anchorage. The first is Moats Bulwark, the battery at the base of the cliff below the castle, just above the beach, and the small angle-bastioned fort guarding the western harbour, Archcliffe Fort.

Only recently, we have begun to look closely at another survey, long thought to be broadly contemporary, carried out in 1623 by the Board of Ordnance at the request of James I and his Privy Council. Our initial work on this, comparing entries for the same sites, suggests that the two surveys may be closely related and we look forward to providing another update here, when we have fully explored that intriguing possibility.

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