Tag: Caernarfon

Queen Eleanor of Castile, Caernarfon Castle, and the Overton Connection

The conquest of Wales in 1283 did more than enforce English military control over Gwynedd: it reshaped the cultural and symbolic landscape of both the principality and its borderlands. At the centre of this transformation was Queen Eleanor of Castile. Though often overshadowed by her husband, King Edward I, Eleanor’s influence on the ideological dimensions of conquest has received increasing attention. My recent publication has focused on Caernarfon Castle in Gwynedd, re-evaluating its design in the light of Eleanor’s cultural and political presence: see Living the Dream. This blog also touches briefly on her involvement with Overton, historically in Flintshire and now part of Wrexham Borough.

Subscribe to our quarterly newsletter

Eleanor’s broader impact on the architectural and material culture of the crown is becoming more widely acknowledged, especially in relation to estates and gardens. Yet her role in the narrative landscapes of conquest, particularly in Wales, has remained underexplored. Caernarfon Castle, long seen primarily as a fortress and statement of English dominance, may also be read as part of a more deliberate, symbolic project – one in which Eleanor’s influence shaped both meaning and memory.

Image of Eleanor of Castille (probable) at Overton Parish Church. Copyright Rachel Swallow

Born into the Castilian royal family around 1241, Eleanor brought with her an appreciation for garden culture, symbolic space, and the communicative potential of architecture. She shared Edward’s interest in Arthurian and Roman imperial narratives, themes that appear in the design language of his castle builds in Gwynedd. At Caernarfon, such symbolism could well have echoed ideas of conquest – not simply as occupation, but as renewal through continuity and legend.

Caernarfon Castle’s banded masonry may have been intended to recall the Theodosian walls of Constantinople, visually linking Edward’s authority with that of Roman emperors. Its location near the Roman fort of Segontium strengthens this earlier interpretation, suggesting a conscious linking of past imperial power to present rule. Yet the site also draws from native Welsh tradition, particularly from the medieval Welsh romance, The Dream of Macsen Wledig, in which the Roman emperor Macsen dreams of a great fortress beside a river, where he meets Elen Luyddog, a Welsh noblewoman who becomes his queen.

Macsen Wledig is not merely mythical: he corresponds to the historical figure Magnus Maximus, proclaimed emperor in Britannia, and later Gaul, in the late 4th century and whose memory was preserved in Welsh legend and genealogy. Magnus was said to have married his daughter to the British king Vortigern—a story enshrined on the Pillar of Eliseg near Valle Crucis Abbey in Denbighshire. The alignment of Eleanor with Elen—a queen associated with building, mediation, and dynastic continuity—would have positioned her within a narrative of legitimacy that transcended simple conquest.

Queen’s Gate, Caernarfon Castle, with motte evident. Copyright Rachel Swallow

This symbolic layering is most clearly visible at the Queen’s Gate at Caernarfon. Set above the landscape beyond and to the east of the walls of the castle and town walls, and with no obvious external access, I suggest that the gate served as a gloriette: an elevated, private space from which the castle’s elite landscape could be viewed. It overlooked a garden laid out in the former bailey of the Earl of Chester’s late-11th-century motte-and-bailey castle, recorded in 1284 as the garden previously belonging to the Welsh Prince’s llys (palace). This elevated viewpoint and garden arrangement is strikingly like Eleanor’s garden and gloriette at Leeds Castle, constructed in 1278. Replacing the former garden of the Welsh Princes, therefore, Eleanor transformed a site of pre-conquest identity into an English and Castilian landscape at Caernarfon.

Segontium Fort, Caernarfon. View from East. Copyright Rachel Swallow

Beyond the garden lay the route later known as the King’s Way, following an old Roman road from the Queen’s Gate from the east of the castle site to Segontium fort and the early Christian site of St Peblig. This axis—linking Roman, sacred, and regal geographies—was further extended through the nearby royal hunting park at Coed Helen. The resulting landscape echoed and enhanced upon the ceremonial design of Eleanor’s other gardens and estates, and brought together memory, power, and place.

Map showing location of Overton in relation to Edward’s Welsh Castles

Elsewhere, Eleanor’s influence now appears more discreetly. At Overton, then in Flintshire, granted to her as part of her dower lands in 1283, the traces of Eleanor’s presence are quieter but still significant. The site—once a Powysian princely centre—was visited multiple times by Eleanor and Edward and was elevated to borough status in 1292. Contemporary sources refer to a castle, chapel, mill, and gardens. In 1284, Eleanor commissioned stained glass for the chapel and hosted a feast there with the entertainment of over 1,000 Welsh minstrels – an ostentatious display of political theatre.

North of Overton. View north west of hills of Clwydian Range. Copyright Rachel Swallow

Overton’s significance extended beyond its material fabric. It lay within a region imbued with historical and legendary associations, particularly those of Powys, whose rulers claimed descent from Magnus Maximus. This legendary lineage, recorded on the Pillar of Eliseg near Valle Crucis Abbey, presented Powys as a kingdom with both Roman and British roots.

The geography of Powys is also preserved in another legendary dream: The Dream of Rhonabwy, a Middle Welsh tale set during the reign of Madog ap Maredudd, the last prince of the entire kingdom of Powys. In this story, Rhonabwy dreams of travelling back to the court of King Arthur, and the landscape described places Powys stretching from Porffordd (modern Pulford in Cheshire, north of Overton) to Gwarfan in Arwystli.

By considering Caernarfon and Overton together—not as isolated places, but as connected elements within Eleanor’s political and symbolic geography—we gain a deeper understanding of how legend, landscape, and queenship intersected in the making of English authority in Wales. Eleanor emerges not simply as a consort, but as a queen whose influence shaped a vision of rule grounded in ancient Welsh tales, place, and space.

My ongoing research and future publication are uncovering the form and probable siting of the lost castle at Overton, revealing its full role within the broader narrative of royal presence and designed landscape. Watch this space!

Rachel Swallow FSA (Swallowtail Archaeology ) is an archaeologist whose research has reshaped our understanding of castles and their landscapes. Elected as a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of London in 2018, her work explores the social, political, and architectural significance of these sites within their broader contexts. Rachel completed her PhD in 2015, and she is a Visiting Research Fellow at the University of Chester and holds an honorary fellowship at the University of Liverpool.

Subscribe to our quarterly newsletter

James of St George and the Edwardian Castle

Malcolm Hislop, researcher and author, writes about some of the themes of his most recent book.

Often thought as a highpoint of English military architecture, the castles of Edward I and his followers in north Wales hold a special place in hearts and minds of many in this country and abroad. Scholars have spent much time and effort on researching this (relatively brief) episode of intensive castle construction. We feel we know these buildings so well, and yet, notwithstanding the many accounts of individual castles, it is strange to relate that no lengthy general survey of the architecture (as opposed to the building history) has ever been published. Nor, despite presenting an obvious opportunity for furthering our understanding of the manner in which architectural style was formulated and disseminated in the late thirteenth century, have the influences on and of the Edwardian castle been widely discussed.

Conwy. The outer gatehouse and truncated approach ramp of c. 1283 by James of St George.

Edward’s Welsh castles are inextricably linked to the technical mastermind behind the project, the Savoyard mason, James of St George. Castle builders (in the practical sense) tend to be less well known than their patrons. The ones who can be identified are far outweighed by those who remain anonymous. Moreover, a master builder whose career can be reliably reconstructed to a significant degree is a rarity to be cherished. Master James is one such exception, his reputation as an architect of international repute being established in one of the great historical detective stories of the later twentieth century, which did much to personalise the often anonymous process of medieval construction.

Beaumaris. The North Inner Gate of c. 1295 etc. by James of St George.

Master James’ star has not ridden quite so high in recent years. His architectural role questioned, his artistic contribution doubted, James now seems a slightly diminished figure, with only his organisational and planning abilities remaining unchallenged. There were certainly other master builders employed on the royal works who exercised a degree of independence; it is clear too that there were other influences on the royal works in Wales than can be accounted for by Master James’ accumulated experience in Savoy. In particular, what was the part played by Walter of Hereford, the technical and artistic master mind behind Vale Royal Abbey, and resident master at Caernarfon from 1295? These are interesting issues requiring a greater depth of enquiry, but the initial conclusions of a broader than usual sweep of the architecture are that in addition to his organisational and technical responsibilities Master James also exercised a significant creative role.

Duffus. The great tower of c. 1305 built in Moray with Edward’s assistance.

Edward’s crushing of all resistance in north Wales was swiftly followed by an attempt to subjugate Scotland. Building work in Wales was mothballed and James of St George and Walter of Hereford were redirected northwards. The impact of Edward’s invasion of Scotland on castle building in the northern kingdom tends to receive little attention. Most of the royal works were in timber, little survives above ground level, and archaeology has not yet revealed much that can enlighten the subject. On the other hand, it is becoming increasingly clear that there is a good deal more to say about the contemporary building works of his supporters, that survival of which is much greater, and that in a number of instances there was an English contribution to design and construction. The story of Edwardian castle building in Scotland is only just beginning to take shape.

Newark. The river front of c. 1300, probably influenced by Caernarfon.

Another under-researched theme is the effect of the Edwardian castles in Wales on the architecture of England. There has been an understandable tendency to view the years immediately following the Edwardian conquest of Gwynedd as an anti-climax in English castle building, and that there is little continuity from the Welsh project. Yet the craftsmen dispersed, and building went on, not in such concentrated or dramatic fashion, but often in small quiet ways that escape the notice of the wider world. The full extent of this influence on fourteenth-century castle design is yet to be recognised, but it includes both the broader aspects and the smaller details and represents the final chapter in the story of the Edwardian castle.

Subscribe to our quarterly newsletter

Malcolm Hislop’s book James of St George and the Castles of the Welsh Wars (September 2020) is published by Pen and Sword. Hardback, 302 pages, 175 colour and monochrome illustrations.