A Bimble round Kenilworth Castle

With our English Heritage cards in hand, my daughter and I blithely crossed the moat into ruins of the once mighty Kenilworth Castle. We were instantly transported into an Elizabethan world of grandeur and royal intrigue as the sandstone walls of the forlorn castle loomed ahead. We felt part of some historic landscape whispering of a magnificent past when thrusting noblemen, eager to win favour at court, built monuments to glory aiming to win the greatest prize, the hand of the Queen herself.   A game of thrones is hidden in these walls and the stories cover a thousand years.

The main narrative is about Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, who supposedly caught the eye of the all powerful Elizabeth 1 as a favoured courtier. From a relatively humble position and a bout of family shaming this aspirational noble rose further than expected as the Queen showered him with titles.  In the hope of pressing this favour to become he built, what is arguably,  the most fantastic castle of the period in a landscape that he hoped would inspire awe and wonder in his intended match.

 

Queen Elizabeth visited four times which was quite a schlep from London up and down Roman roads.  The final time she stayed in 1575 was for 21 days. One account suggests that once she realised the Earl’s intentions the Queen was never seen again in these parts.  The Earl realised his chances were over, maybe due to the fact he was already married, and closed the wing specially built to the specifications of a monarch. 

 

The great thing about a ruined castle is that it makes you imagine the majesty and try to empathise with the movers and shakers wondering how the place would have looked 400 years ago.  The mere surrounding the castle would have provided a stunning backdrop.

 

It was drained and the castle was ruined after the Civil War in 1650. Along with abbeys and castles across the land, wings and walls were destroyed to stop further fortification and to destroy the power of the nobles and clerics.   Later defilement for road and house building only left a ruin for Walter Scott to romanticise in his novel and a dramatic landscape for Turner to paint.

 

The Queen’s garden was in bloom when we visited, ideal for photographing flowers and bees.

  From the castle walls the views of the gardens towards the village and the surrounding landscape provide a sense of the majesty of the place.  It would have been a humbling site for any Elizabethan visitor and a match for his older brother’s place down the road at Warwick Castle. 

 

The castle has been strategically important for monarchs since Henry 1^st and was often involved in sieges and intrigue. A key figure in its prominence was John of Gaunt who made a statement of intent with his grandiose buildings. It was John of Gaunt who landscaped the gardens, built the older tower and flooded the mere creating the spectacular scene imagined in the museum which is housed in the Gatehouse.  His son became King in 1399 and the Castle became a regular haunt for monarchs who came to hunt in the woods and forests of the Midlands.  As I became more familiar with the history I reflected upon the London centric view we have of British history. Often the Kingmakers and power brokers built their power bases beyond the M25. 

We had a happy bimble around the ramparts and platforms that allow access to vantage points in the old buildings until we started to flag and there was a distinct lack of interest in my discovery of medieval graffiti.

 

 I took photos of fireplaces hanging redundant on walls whilst Isla preferred shots of the castle’s current feathered custodians. 

 

We retired to the tea shop and contemplated man’s monuments to power and their resistance to time in the relative solitude of this gem in the Heart of England .