Conisbrough

At fifty or so miles an hour this is about as much of Conisbrough as I manged to spot from the train on our way to Sheffield the other day. Still it's enough, I think. I've been trying to find out something about this place and well, here goes. The castle, you've noticed the castle I take it, big old Norman keep, recently reroofed and famed as the inspirational source for Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. He called the place Coningsburgh so no-one would know ... I admit I've never read the book, (who reads that stuff these days?) but as a child I was suitable appalled by Roger Moore's acting in the TV series ... 

Erm what else? Oh yes; Kilner jars originated here but went bust way back in 1937. There was an Earth Centre I recall it was some sort millennium thing (there was a great madness about the land at that time) consisting of a big hole in the ground or former colliery or former glass works (Kilner's Works? I dont know or care much. It's all a bad memory best forgotten)  into which money (>£41 million!! as I say madness was stalking the country) was poured à la Maynard Keynes. It had an ecological theme that, quite naturally, failed to appeal and no-one could be bothered to visit so it went bust and is now a housing estate I hear. There's also Archers Way which once had another, sillier name but you can search for that yourself. 

I'm sure Conisbrough is a nice place. It certainly has a very long history, the Old English Cyningesburh was recorded back in 1000, and if I had the time and inclination I could tell more ... it's just that we went through at fifty miles an hour and it's gone now...

A Big, Beautiful Wall

Before we leave Castle Rising to its slumbers just one last gaze upon the earthwork ramparts that reach 120 feet in places and the ditch that surround the keep and the two external baileys.

Such defences might make you think the place was under threat and was somehow of military importance. It seems, however, the place had no strategic value and was just a vanity project, an expensive, over done hunting lodge. The ramparts were just meant to impress and they still do.

The Neighbours

Sticking this castle in the Norfolk countryside involved shifting an existing village slightly to the north. The village, known then as Risinga, gets a mention in Domesday as belonging in 1086 to Odo,  half-brother of William the Conqueror and bishop of Bayeux, who, as a cleric, could not shed blood so took to the battlefield wielding a club. There's an old church you can see poking out from behind the trees named after St Lawrence or Laurence if you prefer ( I'm a 'w' Lawrence man myself). St L it was who, it is said, calmly sat up during his martyrdom by grilling, and stated that he was cooked on one side and would they kindly turn him over and cook the other ...

This tree bears a memorial that it was planted by the Princess of Wales on December 28 1865, there's another nearby allegedly planted by her hubby. They must have been bored between Christmas and New Year and popped out for a spot of gardening.

After one thousand years the village of Castle Rising belongs to the Sandringham Estate, yes, that Sandringham which is just up the road, the road where the elderly Queen's consort had his accident earlier this year. And, on the subject of keeping things in the family, the castle, though run by English Heritage, is still owned by a descendant of  the guy who had it built, William d'Aubigny ...one lord Howard of Rising.

Open plan with potential for improvement

Now I need you to use your imagination... don't think what a wreck, what a ruin, think grand medieval chamber richly decorated, with a roaring fire, and sumptuous feasts as guests from the monarchy downwards loosened their stays, put up their feet and had a good old time. OK it's a stretch ...

This is the Great Chamber, or it was. You can just about make out where the floor was by the beam holes about half way up the picture. That's a throne niche, so I'm told, on the left hand wall.

The wooden roof was held by beams supported on decorative corbels.

This was, according to a sign, once the kitchen just off the chamber. Yes an indoor, upstairs medieval kitchen with wood burning ovens and so on; a health and safety nightmare which I read was solved by being moved outside at some later date. The kitchen was, of course, next to the garderobes for the guests' comfort as an informative sign puts it, and why not? Germs hadn't been invented back then.

The Vestibule

You, as a person of importance, would not tarry long in the basement of this keep. Instead you'd be shown upstairs to the reception or vestibule. An informative little sign tells us that this would originally have been a draughty place with no glass just wooden shutters. The 16th century saw mullions and glazing being added and also the main doorway into the great chamber converted into a fireplace which strikes me as an odd thing to do but then folks these days are converting their front gardens into car parks so maybe it was just a passing fancy ...

The tiles above the fireplace are a 19th century addition.

This little door became the main entrance into the Great Chamber ...

The Fixer Upper

As promised  here are some shots from the innards of Castle Rising. We'll start at the ground level and work up, more tomorrow or whenever.

All's well that has a well, I suppose, though I would fancy drinking the stuff that came out of that hole.

Castle Rising

Escaping from the conversations and chit-chats with people you don't know, have never met before in your whole life and will probably never meet again that followed Fred's funeral and declining the kind invitation to a get together with Fred's stepfamily for tea and ham sandwiches in a King's Lynn hotel, we made our excuses and left heading three or four miles out of town to this wonder: Castle Rising. Built in 1138 by William d'Aubigny this is one of the most famous castles in England or so say the people who run it. The gatehouse and keep are restored and in remarkably good condition and you can wander around inside (we'll keep that for another day). The embankments around the three baileys are also in fine shape and amazingly steep. 

This place is most famous for being the retirement home/prison of Queen Isabella after  she'd been deposed by her son Edward III in 1330 or thereabouts. Isabella, you will recall, had her husband, Edward II, murdered in a very particular fashion involving a red hot poker, she then set about ruling with her fancy man, Mortimer, it all ended in tears as it usually does ... she seemed to make herself quite at home here, making alterations to the buildings, running up huge debts and generally enjoying herself as any self-respecting mariticidal ex-monarch should; even her son, the king, dropped by for tea and scones.

Margot, who used to bicycle here as a youngster from King's Lynn, tells me of more recent goings on involving satanic effigies being nailed to the door back in the early 1960s, a sheep’s head with thirteen thorns stuck in it was also found... but I just call that NFN.

The weekend in black and white is here.