Here at Triskele Heritage we love a cat! The office is often home to our three black rescue cats, but we’re always on the lookout for cats at historic sites too. We’d like to celebrate International Cat Day (8 August) with a post about these archaeologically-inclined felines…
Cats have been constant companions for humans in the historic built environment for many centuries. Evidence for this comes from documentary references, manuscript illustrations and even from graffiti. A particularly famous example can be found on one of the nave pillars at St Albans Cathedral in Hertfordshire. It is probably mediaeval in date – from when the building was a Benedictine abbey – and features an anatomically accurate cat caught midway through, what can only be described as, intimate grooming…
Such a graffito may have been carved by one of the monks or perhaps a visitor to the site. It represents an observation of the contemporary life at the cathedral in the mediaeval period. That world would have included cats who would have been encouraged to roam about the building to help keep down the rodent population.
Evidence of ratters and mousers comes from holes which were sometimes incorporated in ancient doors. The most famous of these can be found at Exeter Cathedral in Devon. A door has been altered to allow cats to enter the staircase leading up to a mediaeval clock – perhaps the cathedral’s rodents had been playing merry hell with the ropes of the mechanism!
In the fifteenth century there was even a cat on Exeter Cathedral’s payroll – earning a penny a week! A graffito at Southwell Minster in Nottinghamshire graphically shows exactly what it was that the cathedral cats were expected to hunt…
It would seem that it was not just the cathedrals which employed cats. Rats and mice were to be found everywhere in mediaeval England and folk were keen to try and protect their homes. This was the case even at the top end of society. The bishop of Lincoln’s residence at Lyddington in Rutland has a cat hole cut through the bottom of a door in the bishop’s own private quarters to allow access by the all-important cats.
We recently recorded a similar historic cat hole in a private house in Worcestershire. Cats are still very much to be found in the historic built environment. The most famous of these was probably, the recently deceased, Doorkins Magnificat (R.I.P.) who was taken in by the community at Southwark Cathedral in south London. She had her work cut out chasing the rodents as the site is bounded by the River Thames on one side and Borough Market on the other! Most of the time she could be found snoozing in various warm spots around the building though.
We’ve encountered many other cats at historic properties including Old Wardour Castle (Wiltshire), Tattershall Castle (Lincolnshire) and Wells Cathedral (Somerset). It’s always a great moment in every site visit to meet a feline who lives and works at these heritage properties and well worth taking a moment to spend some time with them.
So, on International Cat Day, we salute the felines who inhabit our historic monuments!
Triskele Heritage are increasingly concerned by the actions of the Conservative government which are having a gravely adverse effect on the conservation of this country. Heritage organisations across the UK are under a sustained ideological attack. This is not a hyperbolic statement. The reported actions of the Conservative government speak for themselves.
Government Policy Leading toDepartmental Closures
During 2021 the following decisions have been made:
19 January: Conservative government announcement that STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering & Mathematics) subjects will receive priority funding at UK universities (Please note: we are supportive of due and proper funding of university departments. We are not, however, supportive of that funding coming at the expense of other departments).
26 March: A further Conservative government announcement indicates: ‘A reduction by half to high-cost subject funding for other price group C1 subjects – that is, for courses in performing and creative arts, media studies and archaeology.’
1 April: Staff at the University of Chester were put on notice of the closure of the Department of Archaeology.
15 April: London South Bank University announces the immediate closure of its history department.
16 April: It is reported that Aston University is considering the closure of its History, Language and Translation Department.
Friday 21 May: Reports began to emerge that the University of Sheffield were considering the fate of the Department of Archaeology.
Wednesday 26 May: Dr Hugh Willmott of the Department of Archaeology at the University of Sheffield announced that the executive board of the university had decided to close the department.
Whilst acknowledging that universities are independent and autonomous entities, the UK government directly provides approximately 18% of departmental budgets and 66% of research funding. The proposed cuts send a clear and chilling message to university administrators – heritage is no longer a priority. It is hard to conclude anything other than the Conservative government have made a deliberate decision to defund the formal study of history and archaeology in the UK.
Government Interference with Museum Appointments
Conservative government decisions appear to have been made on ideological grounds as they continue to further embroil themselves in what has been criticised as a ‘culture war’. Conservative ministers have recently intervened to stifle dissenting voices from the world of UK heritage through a demand that trustees of museums sign a pledge to support the government’s view on contentious histories such as Britain’s slavery legacies:
27 September 2020: It was reported that Conservative government minister Oliver Dowden threatened the funding of UK museums who remove or reinterpret controversial artefacts.
1 May 2021: It was reported that the reappointment, as trustee of the National Maritime Museum, of Dr Aminul Hoque – a researcher who has called for the ‘decolonising of the curriculum’ – was blocked by Conservative government minister Oliver Dowden.
6 May 2021: Reports emerged that Dr Sarah Dry withdrew from her appointment to the Science Museums Group after the Conservative government demanded a pledge of loyalty to its own position on ‘contested heritage’.
Government Attitudes to Conservation
For an organisation named the “Conservatives” the current government seem to have a very high-handed and combative attitude towards the values of conservation. This pattern of behaviour includes (but is not limited to) significant cuts to local authority budgets which led to the redundancy of many heritage workers, controversy over significant damage to heritage assets caused by the High Speed 2 rail project and the Conservative Prime Minister’s pledge to cut conservation mitigation in favour of developers. In his own words: ‘Newt-counting delays are a massive drag on the prosperity of this country.’ This is a deeply worrying and inaccurate attitude.
Triskele Heritage remain vehemently opposed to this sustained attack on UK heritage. The Conservative government does not seem to have meaningful understanding, consideration or respect for archaeology, history or conservation. Their actions are tremendously short-sighted and are having an enormously negative impact on this country.
The Conservative government’s continuing inability to engage in honest dialogue over the contested histories of Britain’s slave legacies is deeply at odds with the attitudes of the general public and the wider world. Equally, voters are very much turned off when they find their conservation concerns trampled on by developers given free reign by the government. The part which heritage plays in national life is of supreme significance and is being deliberately overlooked and defunded by the Conservative government on ideological grounds.
Value of Heritage
Here are some facts and figures as to why the Conservative government urgently needs to row back on its current trend of attacking UK heritage:
There are 58.6 million individual visits to heritage sites and 73% of adults resident in the country visit at least one such location in a 12 month period.
There are 134,000 jobs in built heritage tourism alone which produce £5.1 billion annual output. Overall there are 328, 700 people employed in the heritage workforce.
Heritage tourism is worth some £20.2 billion per annum to the nation. Trained archaeologists, historians and conservators are key to the health of this financial ecosystem.
Employer demand for qualified UK archaeological practitioners is both high and growing to the extent that the Conservative government themselves have included the profession on its own shortage occupations list.
Heritage and culture has been identified by the government as being an essential asset to the mental wellbeing of the nation
The continued attacks by the Conservative government on heritage organisations are already having a deleterious effect on the health, social, cultural and economic well-being of the nation. It must cease and the trend reversed with immediate effect.
Triskele Heritage stand in full solidarity with our friends and colleagues effected by these appalling decisions made by the Conservative government.
The people of Nottingham have reacted with a tangible sense of excitement to the news that, the world-renowned graffiti street artist, Banksy has chosen a brick wall in the suburb of Lenton to place a new installation.
My adopted hometown has had a fair bit of bad press recently given the collapse of INTU mid-way through their redevelopment of the Broadmarsh shopping centre and the spike in covid-19 cases which has led to Tier 2 restrictions. So, it has been a real pleasure to see the city brought into the light through this artwork on the corner of Illkeston Road and Rothesay Avenue.
The new installation features a stencilled spray-painted little girl, aged maybe 7 or 8, arms outstretched in balance as she hoola-hoops a bike tyre. Adjacent to her is a bicycle padlocked to a street sign with a mangled front wheel and a missing back tyre.
In these grim days, it is incredible to see such a diverse number of people getting excited by art. And I do mean diverse – when I was down at the site there were around one hundred (socially distanced) folk queueing up to take photos and they accurately represented Nottingham’s vibrant multi-racial and multi-cultural community.
So, why might an archaeologist be interested in such a modern phenomenon?
Firstly, it is important to state that archaeology is a subject as big as humanity itself. Whatever you are interested in there will be a historical material culture which can be studied archaeologically. I happen to be a buildings archaeologist and part of my job is looking at graffiti which adorns those buildings. It’s true that I can more usually be found squinting at mediaeval graffiti by the light of a torch in a parish church, but there are some deep-seated connections between the work of Banksy and that of mostly unknown folk from the past.
Historic graffiti is a very important window onto the past and offers us a dynamic social document as important as anything which could be found in an archive or museum. Prior to the more widespread adoption of literacy during the seventeenth century, graffiti tended to be pictorial. It was created by people of all social backgrounds and is a vital piece of evidence for understanding the everyday lives of ordinary people, many of whom would not leave us any traces of their lives without their graffiti. By learning to “read” those inscriptions we can learn something of their psychologies and emotions… and mostly they speak of their hopes and fears.
Hope might be represented by the carving of a beautiful ship onto the walls of Norwich Cathedral (Norfolk) – perhaps a prayer in stone by a merchant or sailor wishing for their ship to dock safely. Fear can be seen in the ritual protection marks recorded at the Tower of London which were intended to drive away the threat of evil from the building and its occupants. I have recorded graffiti in buildings all over the country from tiny cottages up to the largest cathedrals. What is apparent is that people used the walls as venues to speak of their concerns in life – the graffiti acts as a representation of what was important to them in and of the specific moment of their creation.
Banksy’s graffiti in Lenton does just this and is a very playful and thought-provoking piece. It is located near to the former factories owned by Raleigh, which manufactured bikes locally from 1886 until closure in 2002. The surrounding streets were once home to many of the factory workers. Famously, the principal character in Alan Sillitoe’s novel Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, Arthur Seaton, lived, worked, drank and loved in these streets. Nowadays the area is popular with students as an ideal place to live midway between town and the University of Nottingham. The graffiti speaks of the former workers at the bike factory – notably the bike in the piece is as broken as the economy after the factories closed. The work also reflects the tenacious families who continue to cling to the area despite its grim realities and the hoola-hoop tyre seems to point to an improvised make-and-mend attitude to just keep-on-keeping on. The idea of play is also a burlesque on the later reality of Lenton as a bit of a party town for students. I’m not sure that the subject matter would really work if it were presented anywhere other than these streets.
Nottingham City Council are certainly aware of the cultural cache which Banksy potentially brings to an area. Even before the artist formally acknowledged the piece via his Instagram, the local authority had installed a plastic screen to protect it. A security guard is also diligently watching over the piece. After all, Banksy’s street installations can fetch extremely high prices – in 2014 his iconic Kissing Coppers (originally from Trafalgar Street in Brighton) went for $575,000 (£345,000) at auction. The screen in Lenton may have been extremely foresighted as not long after it was fitted the wall was tagged by another graffiti artist. It was later cleaned by local residents.
There is an irony here. Firstly, it is a very widely acknowledged cultural observation that graffiti begets other graffiti. The presence of a piece of graffiti seems to act as a magnet for other pieces to be added around and over older inscriptions. This is the case both with historic graffiti and with its modern counterparts. It has already taken place in Lenton, not only with the tag, but also through the work of one wit whom has thought to make a comment on Banksy’s stencil technique by placing the phrase “MASS PRODUCED” in orange letters adjacent to the installation.
Secondly, graffiti is, by nature, a fleeting and temporary form of art. It seems unlikely that those who scribed on the walls of mediaeval buildings thought that they were creating something that would intrigue later generations or be studied by archaeologists such as myself. Instead, graffiti speaks of the contemporary moment within the mind of an individual in a particular location. Protecting or removing the piece for posterity has the potential to culturally devalue it.
Thirdly, Nottingham has gone wild for this piece (and quite rightly so). There was a real festival atmosphere on Illkeston Road. What would otherwise be a perfectly ordinary suburban arterial road has been briefly transformed into a cultural destination that is really drawing in the (socially distanced) crowds. The line of folk was slightly reminiscent of the queues to see world famous pieces of historic art such as the Mona Lisa at the Louvre and I’ve seldom seen queues of people waiting to interact with art at Nottingham Contemporary or Nottingham Castle Museum and Art Gallery. This installation by Banksy has really brought a much-needed joy, zest and conversation to Nottingham’s streets.
Given that I have spent many years studying graffiti I’m both happy to see the Nottingham Banksy getting so much attention and not entirely surprised. I’ve witnessed the compulsive power that graffiti can have on people. That power takes many forms. Humour greeted the discovery of phalluses carved on Hadrian’s Wall by Romans trying to engender good luck. A sense of enigmatic mystique was created by the ritual protection marks at Knole (Kent) which were left by carpenters trying to defend James I from evil after the Gunpowder Plot of 1605. Meanwhile, there was amazement at the survival of graffiti left by the Sex Pistols in the 1970s which led to a building on Denmark Street in Soho being protected from demolition.
Graffiti is a tremendously important cultural asset in both the historic and modern eras – but there is definitely a dialogue to be had over how and why we protect it.
If this blog has perhaps piqued your interest in historic graffiti, then please do consider watching my talk on the subject…
About the author
James Wright is an award-winning buildings archaeologist. He has two decades professional experience of ferreting around in people’s cellars, hunting through their attics and digging up their gardens. He hopes to find meaningful truths about how ordinary and extraordinary folk lived their lives in the mediaeval period.
With us all unable to poke around inside normally private houses as part of Heritage Open Days 2020, many organisations have opted for digital content this year. Our own modest offering is a short documentary for Inspire on a house at Kelham, near Newark, Nottinghamshire. We surveyed the property as part of the Kelham Revealed project alongside our friends and colleagues at MB Archaeology in 2019. Conventionally dated to the seventeenth century, but containing all manner of mediaeval surprises within…
I’m attempting to bring a little positivity to our collective self-isolation by recalling some of my site visits over the last 20+ years as an archaeologist.
I’ll be uploading a post every single day to the Triskele Heritage website and also Tweeting from @jpwarchaeology using #VirtualSiteVisit– come join me on the ride…
Day 59: Thursday 14 May 2020 Historic Graffiti from England An alternative to the usual picture for today’s #VirtualSiteVisit – instead it is a link to the audio slideshow of the introduction to historic graffiti talk that was mentioned yesterday. This covers sites from the length and breadth of the country – enjoy!
In 2016 the Arts and Humanities Research Council funded a collaborative doctoral award researching Tattershall Castle, Lincolnshire, which has been run by the University of Nottingham and the site’s landowners – the National Trust. The castle doubled its visitor numbers to 59, 741 between 2008 and 2018 (Visit England 2018) and a reassessment of the site is anticipated to underpin future strategic decisions on presentation of the site to the public. Although Tattershall has featured widely in castle studies (Goodall 2011, 354-6; Emery 2000, 308-16; Johnson 2002, 55-62), with particular regard to great houses in the late mediaeval period, there has been no substantive new research on the site since the 1920s (Curzon & Tipping 1929). Consequently, a need arose to reconsider the castle using the multidisciplinary approach of modern buildings archaeology.
Once the completed thesis is available online a link will be placed to it on this webpage.
Tattershall Castle
The castle is located in a remote area of Lincolnshire, approximately 21 miles south-east of Lincoln and 15 miles north-west of Boston. In the mediaeval period the site was well-connected to the fenland and coastal environments via the River Witham. A stone polygonal enclosure castle, studded with round towers, was first built for the regionally important baron, Robert de Tateshale, in the 1230s (Goodall 2011, 183). The model for this building is likely to have been at Bolingbroke, approximately 10 miles to the north-east, which was built in the 1220s for Earl Ranulph de Blondeville – itself inspired by innovative architecture emanating from France and the Holy Land (Soden 2009, 124-5).
Tattershall passed through the Driby and Bernack families until it was inherited, in 1419, by Ralph 3rd Lord Cromwell. The Cromwells were socially rising landowners at a time of great political turbulence initially caused by the minority of Henry VI and, later, his inability to establish strong governance (Johnson 2019, 555-9). Cromwell was appointed as Lord Treasurer of England, in 1433, and by the following year had begun an ambitious programme of remodelling at Tattershall which lasted until c 1450 (Simpson 1960).
The building accounts of the great brick and stone castle partially survive and give a vibrant impression of the construction process (Simpson 1960). Building materials were brought in, by land and river, from Yorkshire, Leicestershire and Lincolnshire to be worked by labourers and craftsmen including dikers, masons, carpenters, plumbers and smiths. Whilst the name of the master mason is unknown, Cromwell’s principle brickmaker, Baldwin Docheman, was probably a continental specialist brought over to work the clay on nearby Edlington Moor (Simpson 1960, 46, 56, 73). By 1446 the project was well-advanced and work was underway on the great tower. Analysis of the underlying geometry has revealed that the tower’s ground plan was based on a 3 x 4 grid of 20 foot (approximately 6.09m) squares and that the principle western elevation conformed to the common mediaeval proportional ratio of 1:1.73 (Hislop 2012, 19-20).
Cromwell’s builders added two L-shaped wards to the older enclosure complete with brick moat revetments. Each of the three wards had its own gatehouse which allowed a processional access through the castle similar to those at Caister and Kenilworth (Johnson 2002, 50-1; Creighton 2002 76). The Outer and Middle Ward contained well-appointed lodging ranges including the “Guardhouse” – a two-storey retainers lodging with garderobes and fireplaces. The floor and roof structure were recently found to be constructed from timbers felled between 1446 and 1451 (Robert Howard, Nottingham Tree-ring Dating Laboratory, pers. comm. 07/2/2017).
Antiquarian illustrations (Society of Antiquaries) and archaeological excavations (Curzon & Tipping 1929, 169-173) have revealed that the Inner Ward once contained a chapel, great hall, two-storey pentice, services, solar, and gatehouses which permitted access to gardens to the south and services to the west. The castle is dominated by the 33.5 metre high great tower which plunges directly into the moat on three sides. The rectangular structure has projecting octagonal corner turrets, which rise above the parapet and were once crowned with lead spirelets (Emery 2000, 309-10). Brick diaperwork helps to offset the rather austere window tracery and a symmetrical show-front is presented on the west elevation. The tower has a unique double-height parapet with a machicolated and arcaded gallery supporting a wall walk complete with heated rooms in the turrets.
The building is accessed from the east via three ground floor doorways. The southern door leads to a spiral stair in the south-eastern turret (with an elaborate recessed handrail carved in stone), the central to a basement and northern to the ground floor chamber. Blocked doors, wall scars and beam slots (associated with a former two-storey pentice that lay beyond the demolished great hall) indicate that more private access was once possible from the former solar block.
Internally, the tower is deceptively simple in layout. It
consists of a five storey stack of large central chambers with intramural
passages to the east and chambers in three of the turrets. Each of the storeys
above grew in status vertically, becoming steadily larger and more lavish, in a
fashion memorably described by John Goodall (2011, 354) as ‘gathering
magnificence’:
Basement: Storage
Ground floor: Lesser household hall
First floor: Private dining hall
Second floor: Great chamber accessed via an elaborately vaulted processional corridor and heated anteroom
Third floor: Bedchamber
All four principle chambers have garderobes and finely sculpted
chimneypieces; whilst the first, second and third floors also have corbels at
their high ends which once supported tester frames.
The castle was carefully designed to act as a theatrical
backdrop to symbolise the prestige of its patron. Everything about the site
demanded respect and awe from visitors and occupants alike. From the circuitous
access to the overpowering dominance of the great tower, Tattershall was
intended to demonstrate the status of its lord.
A Landscape of Lordship
Beyond the castle gates, Cromwell imposed his power on a wide landscape of lordship. This included a large moated enclosure containing gardens, warrens, fishponds and a mill, alongside the foundation of a collegiate church, school and almshouses provided for in his will. The settlement of Tattershall was reorganised as a proto-town with a substantial marketplace with a stone cross symbolic of Cromwell’s economic power.Beyond this, part of Tattershall Chase was emparked and provided with hunting lodges at Woodhall Spa and Whitwell (Simpson 1960, xiii-xv).
By the mid-1440s Cromwell received vast incomes from over 140 estates (Friedrichs 1988, 217) and had commissioned a substantial new house at South Wingfield (Derbyshire) alongside works to existing manor houses at Collyweston (Northamptonshire), Lambley (Nottinghamshire) and Depham (Middlesex). These lavish building projects, conducted simultaneously with Tattershall, led Anthony Emery (2000, 313) to characterise Cromwell as demonstrating ‘the seeds of megalomania’. This architectural dominance created a unified brand across landscapes that repeatedly emphasised his status in society.
Ralph Cromwell
Ralph Cromwell was born in 1393 into a family of supporters
of Henry of Bolingbroke (later Henry IV). By 1407 he had been placed in the
household of Thomas, duke of Clarence, the younger son of the king. He was
present on Henry V’s campaign of 1415, was probably knighted at Azincourt and
served during the later invasion of Normandy. He distinguished himself as an able
administrator and diplomat and, by 1420, had caught the attention of the king
who entrusted him as a negotiator at the treaty of Troyes. By 1423 Cromwell was
named royal councillor and ten years later he was appointed as Lord Treasurer
of England – a post that he held until 1443 (Friedrichs 1988, 208, 212).
Cromwell was typical of a group of rising men, active in
France, who received royal patronage and invested their wealth in buildings which
symbolised and projected their status in society. However, as a new man, he
lacked the influence of higher-ranking members on the council such as the
rivals Humfrey, duke of Gloucester and Henry Beaufort, bishop of Winchester.
Cromwell gravitated towards Beaufort’s circle and was well-rewarded when the
latter was ascendant, but that patronage was regularly cut when Gloucester held
the upper hand (Friedrichs 1988, 209-12).
The construction of Tattershall Castle began soon after
Cromwell’s appointment as Lord Treasurer. It featured repeated lordly symbols
such as clustered towers, crenellations, machicolations, prominent chimneys,
brick vaults and armorials. Even the choice of the newly fashionable brick as a
building material served such purposes – diaperwork patterns of a heraldic
shield, Calvary cross and Marian imagery collectively demonstrated the societal
demand to be seen as a pious lord (Creighton 2002, 110).
Internally, the architectural detail of the great tower was also geared towards an exposition of how Cromwell wished the world to see him. In particular, the elaborately carved chimneypieces and vaulting bosses are resplendent with family armorials which relate Cromwell’s, often distant, lineage. Significantly, no attempt was made to link himself with the heraldry of contemporary political patrons – potentially due to the uncertainty of his shifting allegiances. Intermingled with the armorials are more statements of lordly piety including carvings relating to the battle between good and evil – St Michael and the dragon and Samson and the lion. Most revealing of all are the repeated carvings of the Treasurer’s purse, signifying the source of wealth and power, which is often found in association with a rebus of the Gromwell plant and Cromwell’s curious motto: ‘Nay je droit’ (Have I not the right?).
This motto is both truculent and anxious at the same time.
It reveals a tension in Cromwell’s architecture which may be symptomatic of his
personal characteristics. He was a newly made man that had experienced a
meteoric rise, but was still subordinate to more powerful men. We might consider the repeated heraldic
devices as Cromwell over-emphasising the antiquity of his lineage to bolster
his position. This was further supported by the repeated carvings of purse rebus
and motto which hint at a prickly and jealous pride that was exposed in his
political actions.
Cromwell’s latter years were mired in partisan disputes
which often spilled over into open hostilities. He resigned the post of
Treasurer in 1443 and, after the death of Beaufort in 1447, struggled to
maintain a strong profile on the council in the face of the dukes of Suffolk
and Somerset. He was beset by the murderous schemes of his neighbour, William
Tailboys, and the equally volatile duke of Exeter (Friedrichs 1988, 221-3). As
Henry VI slipped into catatonic stupor in 1453 and the country slid towards
civil war, Cromwell found himself politically isolated and began to drift into
the orbit of the Yorkist faction. He arranged the marriages of his heiresses,
Joan and Maud Stanhope, to relatives of the earl of Warwick and duke of York in
an attempt to seal new alliances. However, when war broke out in 1455, Cromwell
failed to arrive at the battle of St Albans (whether by fate or design) and was
vilified in person by Warwick as a primary instigator of the Wars of the Roses.
Cromwell died in January 1456 at Wingfield Manor (Friedrichs 1988, 224-6). He had been a diligent and tenacious member of the council and had weathered the aggressive faction-fighting which marred the middle years of the fifteenth century.
Inspirations and Influences
The design of Tattershall owes a debt to both contemporary European castles and to older English examples. The use of brick became fashionable in eastern England from the late fourteenth century, for example at Thornton Abbey and Boston Guildhall in Lincolnshire, primarily as a result of strong trading connections with the Hanseatic League (Campbell 2003, 103). Sites such as Malbork in Poland and Schloss Kempen in the Lower Rhineland had an electrifying effect on English builders through the use of wide moats, diapered brickwork with stone detailing and a resurgence of the great tower as an architectural focus (Goodall 2011, 356; Simpson 1960, xxiv). The latter was also current in late mediaeval France, where Cromwell’s own experience of castles such as Vincennes may have directly influenced the design of Tattershall (Emery 2016, 252, 330). Finally, Tattershall looked back to Norman great towers including Castle Rising, Dover and Newcastle filtered through later developments at Nunney, Stafford and Wardour (Goodall 2011, 183).
Tattershall subsequently had a remarkable effect on English architecture for over a century. The construction of brick and stone great towers with projecting turrets and featuring recessed stair handrails, false machicolations and diaperwork became essential motifs in elite building. Within Cromwell’s own lifetime members of the Lincolnshire gentry commissioned structures influenced by Tattershall, including the Hussey Tower (Boston) and Ayscoughfee Hall (Spalding). The style was also advanced by his peers at Herstmonceux Castle (East Sussex), Rye House (Hertfordshire) and Middleton Towers (Norfolk). In the late fifteenth century a number of bishop’s houses showed a clear line of thought back to Tattershall, in particular those built by the mason John Cowper for William Waynflete, executor of Cromwell’s will, at Esher and Farnham (Surrey). Other stark examples of the style include Buckden (Cambridgeshire), Oxburgh (Norfolk) and Kirby Muxloe (Leicestershire). During the Tudor period Tattershall’s legacy was cemented at Holme Pierrepont (Nottinghamshire), Layer Marner (Essex) and Hampton Court (Surrey); with its reach even lasting into Elizabeth’s reign at Burghley (Lincolnshire) and Kenilworth (Warwickshire).
Post-Mediaeval Tattershall
Following Cromwell’s death, the castle passed to his nieces Maud and Joan Stanhope (and their various husbands) prior to confiscation by the crown. Tattershall was granted to Margaret Beaufort and then Charles Brandon (Curzon & Tipping 1929, 113-4, 121), with the latter possibly constructing a tiltyard in the former gardens. By the later sixteenth century the estate was purchased by Lord Clinton, whose descendants initially held the castle for Parliament during the English Civil War (Curzon & Tipping 1929, 133, 138). Although Tattershall was briefly possessed by the royalists, in 1643, the site saw little action but graffiti from the garrison can be found inscribed upon the walls of the great tower and there are impact scars from musketry on the west elevation of the collegiate church. The castle was probably slighted during 1650 on the orders of Parliament (Thompson 1987, 184).
In 1693 the castle was inherited by the Fortesque family who rented it out as a farm. Early eighteenth century illustrations by Buck and Millicent show the castle in a ruinous state (Society of Antiquaries). The great tower was used as a cattle shed and a dovecote was installed in Cromwell’s own privy chamber during this period! By the nineteenth century the floors of the tower had collapsed, the moats backfilled and much of the foundations of the castle had been robbed to feed lime kilns (Curzon & Tipping 1929, 140-1).
The castle was under threat from acquisition and wholesale
removal by an American consortium in 1910, which led to an emergency purchase
by Lord Curzon the following year. As a man deeply interested in the
conservation of historic buildings, Curzon arranged for the excavation and
consolidation of the site under advice from architect William Weir and architectural
historian Alexander Hamilton Thompson. The narrowly averted threat to
Tattershall led Curzon to successfully lobby Parliament for the Ancient Monuments
Consolidation of Amendment Act of 1913 (Waterson 1994, 73).
Tattershall was left to the National Trust under the terms
of Curzon’s will and remains in their care and open to the public to the
present day.
Conclusions
Tattershall Castle stands as testament to the tremendous power and
prestige of Ralph Lord Cromwell. The innovative architecture is firmly rooted
in both continental and English building traditions and became the benchmark
for English building for many decades to come. The messages imparted in both
the overall plan and architectural details speak of a patron who was wealthy,
proud and conscious of his status; however, there is also an underlying anxiety
and tension inherent to the building which is reflective of a parvenu, who had
reached far yet, who was still a lord of the second rank. The site has also
been enormously important to the history of the conservation movement, in
particular in the sensitive manner of Curzon’s restoration work and the use of
the site in attaining legal protection for significant historic buildings.
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Historic Illustrations
Society of Antiquaries, Coleraine
Collection of British Topography Vol. 2