My Castle
Imagine you're a 12-year-old boy, traveling to England for the first time, and you're given a private guided tour of one of the most well-preserved castles in the realm by its most knowledgeable living authority. An amazing privilege, to be sure, and truly memorable. I had no idea at the time, though, that was only the beginning of my experiences over the next several years at this almost fairytale place...
Entry in our family album written in my mother's hand.
The four times I've been to England, there were two places I stayed every visit: the Regent Palace Hotel in London, and my spiritual home Over There - the market town of Skipton, in Yorkshire's historic West Riding.
Perhaps a little background's in order. My mother was born in the US, but she spent three years of her childhood in England; in Burnley, Lancashire, to be precise. It was then that she met Florence Stevenson, and they remained friends all their lives. (Mom called Florence her "cousin," but she wasn't really a blood relative. I still think of Flo as a cousin, too, though. ^^) Florence grew up to be a nurse, and was assigned to a post in Skipton, in rural Yorkshire, and she remained in Skipton for the rest of her life. So every time we visited England, we spent quite a lot of time in Skipton, to the extent that the place became my adopted home town in the UK.
Getting on with it, the "X" below marks the spot in Skipton near the castle where Florence's friend, Dr. Mary Wales, lived in a flat at the west end of the Gate House. Miss Wales was a retired architect, and during the long time she dwelt adjacent to the grounds, she made the architectural history of Skipton Castle her highest avocation. Good god was she enthusiastic about that structure! Whenever she spoke about it, Miss Wales really made the place come alive...
When I visited again in 1969 and we called on Miss Wales, I remember she walked me down to the Castle Gateway (below) and bought us both admission tickets. Then she gave me the personal tour again, but without my mom this time. That was totally bitchen! After that second visit, I pretty much had all of Skipton Castle memorized room by room, and I was definitely enchanted for life with the place.
Open this and any subsequent image in a new tab or window to view an enlargement.
Then in 1974 - the last time I went to England with my mother - Miss Wales granted me the supreme privilege of excusing myself from the all-elder-ladies after-supper conversation to wander the grounds alone. Oh. My. God. I had Skipton Castle all to myself. I easily spent two hours inside. My only regret was that I didn't have a camera with me that time!
But the best was yet to come. Fifteen years later in 1989, Mary Wales gave me her personal tour for the fourth time (I could guide the tour myself by now!), then after dinner, I was once again granted free rein in the castle. At the age of 35 now, though, I possessed half a lifetime's knowledge of architectural history which enabled me to fully appreciate Skipton Castle in the minutest of its details, and it was one of the superlative experiences of my life. Here below are all of my photos of the castle that I took on my last and longest visit on 16 September 1989.
This is the Watch Tower guarding the inner entrance to the castle...
...and the adjoining Tudor Wing (still an occupied residence):
Lady Anne Clifford's Entrance (below). She restored the castle in 1657-8 after it was sacked and razed by the Roundheads (Cromwell) during the Civil Wars.
View of the castle grounds from Lady Anne's Entrance.
Walking through the doorway and turning to the right, one passes through a circa A.D. 1100 Norman archway; likely the oldest part of the castle structure. My greatest regret from my 1989 visit is that I did not photograph this arch. Every click of the shutter in those days cost $1, though, and that meant sometimes wrong decisions were made about what to and what not to take a picture of. My loss in this case.
Other than the Norman archway and its immediate surrounds (including the dungeon), most of the rest of the castle was rebuilt pretty much from the ground up in the mid-1600s, meaning it's relatively young as castles go, hence its rather remarkable state of preservation. Lady Anne Clifford may have been a somewhat notorious woman in her day, but one has to give her credit with regard to the preservation of Skipton Castle. If not for her, the site would be mere piles of old ruined stoneworks today, if anything remained at all.
After exiting the Norman arch, one enters into the central area of Skipton Castle: the "Conduit Court", as it was called.
In the center of the courtyard is this ancient yew tree, which was planted here in 1659.
Taken from the stairway to the Banqueting Hall, looking toward the ground floor portion of the Castle Lord's Residence.
From the same steps, looking toward the entrance to the Watch Tower.
Still on the steps, one turns around and sees this down-spout made of lead inscribed with a variety of Clifford insigniae and the year "1659". Another down-spout in the Conduit Court bears the initials "A.P.", for "Anne Pembrookee," the common name of Lady Anne Clifford.
This is the Banqueting Hall, which was still used for formal occasions until the turn of the last century. During all my visits, it housed the main interpretive center of the castle tour.
The Baking Hearth.
The communal loo! The edges of the simple circular stone hole have been worn smooth by 400 years' worth of buttocks passing over its surface. ;-) When you look down through the hole you see about a 60 foot drop straight down to the riverbank below. I'd've probably taken a pic of that except that some visitors still insist on using this "convenience" for its original intended purpose. (Not pretty.)
My last pictures were of the chapel of St John the Evangelist. Erected c.1500 (meaning it's older than most of the castle), this simple but fascinating structure was located rather close to Mary Wales' flat. (See the cross symbol in the Google Earth image at top.) During the Reformation, this Catholic chapel was gutted and subsequently converted into stables. Over the years, additional masonryworks and a dwelling were added onto the building, completely obscuring its religious origins. It was rediscovered to be a medieval chapel in the early 20th century.
Close-up of the chapel's east window in its original ruined state.
Five-hundred-year-old roof timbers! I could still smell Horse in there, too. It was literally a horse church! I felt transported in that place. It was magic, pure magic...
Today (2007), the Anglo-Gothic arch window of the chapel has been restored to look like it supposedly once did. (Link) I'm not sure I approve of this - either the idea or its execution. I wonder what Mary Wales would think. She was quite fond of the chapel as it was, as was I...
So that was my castle. Perhaps it was only all mine for a few hours altogether, but that was honour enough to last a lifetime...
Entry in our family album written in my mother's hand.
The four times I've been to England, there were two places I stayed every visit: the Regent Palace Hotel in London, and my spiritual home Over There - the market town of Skipton, in Yorkshire's historic West Riding.
Perhaps a little background's in order. My mother was born in the US, but she spent three years of her childhood in England; in Burnley, Lancashire, to be precise. It was then that she met Florence Stevenson, and they remained friends all their lives. (Mom called Florence her "cousin," but she wasn't really a blood relative. I still think of Flo as a cousin, too, though. ^^) Florence grew up to be a nurse, and was assigned to a post in Skipton, in rural Yorkshire, and she remained in Skipton for the rest of her life. So every time we visited England, we spent quite a lot of time in Skipton, to the extent that the place became my adopted home town in the UK.
Getting on with it, the "X" below marks the spot in Skipton near the castle where Florence's friend, Dr. Mary Wales, lived in a flat at the west end of the Gate House. Miss Wales was a retired architect, and during the long time she dwelt adjacent to the grounds, she made the architectural history of Skipton Castle her highest avocation. Good god was she enthusiastic about that structure! Whenever she spoke about it, Miss Wales really made the place come alive...
When I visited again in 1969 and we called on Miss Wales, I remember she walked me down to the Castle Gateway (below) and bought us both admission tickets. Then she gave me the personal tour again, but without my mom this time. That was totally bitchen! After that second visit, I pretty much had all of Skipton Castle memorized room by room, and I was definitely enchanted for life with the place.
Open this and any subsequent image in a new tab or window to view an enlargement.
Then in 1974 - the last time I went to England with my mother - Miss Wales granted me the supreme privilege of excusing myself from the all-elder-ladies after-supper conversation to wander the grounds alone. Oh. My. God. I had Skipton Castle all to myself. I easily spent two hours inside. My only regret was that I didn't have a camera with me that time!
But the best was yet to come. Fifteen years later in 1989, Mary Wales gave me her personal tour for the fourth time (I could guide the tour myself by now!), then after dinner, I was once again granted free rein in the castle. At the age of 35 now, though, I possessed half a lifetime's knowledge of architectural history which enabled me to fully appreciate Skipton Castle in the minutest of its details, and it was one of the superlative experiences of my life. Here below are all of my photos of the castle that I took on my last and longest visit on 16 September 1989.
This is the Watch Tower guarding the inner entrance to the castle...
...and the adjoining Tudor Wing (still an occupied residence):
Lady Anne Clifford's Entrance (below). She restored the castle in 1657-8 after it was sacked and razed by the Roundheads (Cromwell) during the Civil Wars.
View of the castle grounds from Lady Anne's Entrance.
Walking through the doorway and turning to the right, one passes through a circa A.D. 1100 Norman archway; likely the oldest part of the castle structure. My greatest regret from my 1989 visit is that I did not photograph this arch. Every click of the shutter in those days cost $1, though, and that meant sometimes wrong decisions were made about what to and what not to take a picture of. My loss in this case.
Other than the Norman archway and its immediate surrounds (including the dungeon), most of the rest of the castle was rebuilt pretty much from the ground up in the mid-1600s, meaning it's relatively young as castles go, hence its rather remarkable state of preservation. Lady Anne Clifford may have been a somewhat notorious woman in her day, but one has to give her credit with regard to the preservation of Skipton Castle. If not for her, the site would be mere piles of old ruined stoneworks today, if anything remained at all.
After exiting the Norman arch, one enters into the central area of Skipton Castle: the "Conduit Court", as it was called.
In the center of the courtyard is this ancient yew tree, which was planted here in 1659.
Taken from the stairway to the Banqueting Hall, looking toward the ground floor portion of the Castle Lord's Residence.
From the same steps, looking toward the entrance to the Watch Tower.
Still on the steps, one turns around and sees this down-spout made of lead inscribed with a variety of Clifford insigniae and the year "1659". Another down-spout in the Conduit Court bears the initials "A.P.", for "Anne Pembrookee," the common name of Lady Anne Clifford.
This is the Banqueting Hall, which was still used for formal occasions until the turn of the last century. During all my visits, it housed the main interpretive center of the castle tour.
The Baking Hearth.
The communal loo! The edges of the simple circular stone hole have been worn smooth by 400 years' worth of buttocks passing over its surface. ;-) When you look down through the hole you see about a 60 foot drop straight down to the riverbank below. I'd've probably taken a pic of that except that some visitors still insist on using this "convenience" for its original intended purpose. (Not pretty.)
My last pictures were of the chapel of St John the Evangelist. Erected c.1500 (meaning it's older than most of the castle), this simple but fascinating structure was located rather close to Mary Wales' flat. (See the cross symbol in the Google Earth image at top.) During the Reformation, this Catholic chapel was gutted and subsequently converted into stables. Over the years, additional masonryworks and a dwelling were added onto the building, completely obscuring its religious origins. It was rediscovered to be a medieval chapel in the early 20th century.
Close-up of the chapel's east window in its original ruined state.
Five-hundred-year-old roof timbers! I could still smell Horse in there, too. It was literally a horse church! I felt transported in that place. It was magic, pure magic...
Today (2007), the Anglo-Gothic arch window of the chapel has been restored to look like it supposedly once did. (Link) I'm not sure I approve of this - either the idea or its execution. I wonder what Mary Wales would think. She was quite fond of the chapel as it was, as was I...
So that was my castle. Perhaps it was only all mine for a few hours altogether, but that was honour enough to last a lifetime...