KENILWORTH AND ITS PRIORY—THE STORY AND ROMANCE OF KENILWORTH CASTLE
Kenilworth, which is prettily situated, and lies almost equidistant
between Warwick and Coventry, and about five miles direct north of the
former town, is reached by the turnpike road passing Guy’s Cliff, the
beautiful Blakedown Mill, which existed prior to the reign of Henry
II., and Chessford Bridge. Few who visit Kenilworth at the present
day would imagine that this quiet, straggling country town, with a
population of about four thousand, could ever have played the important
part it did in the history and romance of the county and the nation at
large.
Kenilworth of to–day at first sight gives the traveller the impression
of being merely a sleepy town, with the architecture of its long main
street, which is a full mile in length, picturesquely broken up by the
interspersing of modern and older buildings. Few, indeed, would suppose
that any manufacture of the slightest importance could occupy the
thoughts or the energies of its inhabitants; but there are still some
carried on amid its rural surroundings.
One of the most interesting buildings in Kenilworth is the old
Elizabethan House, standing just beyond the King’s Arms Hotel, at which
Sir Walter Scott put up when visiting the place in 1820. Over the door
of the house, which is of two stories, is a wooden panel on which is
carved a representation of the bear and ragged staff, with the initials
R. L., standing for Robert Leicester. The building was in former times
one of the lodges of the castle, to which the roadway passing the house
leads, thus forming the principal approach. In this house, tradition
asserts, Amy Robsart used to stay, and there is at least a tradition
that years ago a secret underground passage was discovered leading from
the house to the castle.
Although prettily situated, Kenilworth does not nowadays possess any
great attractions other than its castle. But on the slope to the east
of the latter, and slightly below the level of the Coventry Road,
is the church, consisting of a western tower and spire, nave with
aisles, transepts, and a chancel with a south aisle or Lady Chapel of
considerable interest. The nave and tower date from the fourteenth
century, and on the western side of the latter a very beautiful Norman
doorway, probably removed from the adjacent priory, has been inserted.
This door, which is well worth the study of those interested in
architecture, possesses three receding arches, the first fluted, the
second beak–headed, and the third embattled, encircled by a nail–headed
band, and the whole enclosed in an ornamental square, having a border
of diaper–work and cable moulding. There is also a patera in each
spandril.
The old entrance to the rood loft may be seen on the north side of the
chancel arch, now blocked up. On the south side is a very good example
of a lychnoscope. The chancel contains a piscina and a circular font,
dating from the middle of the seventeenth century. In the lower belfry
is a boat–shaped leaden casting, weighing about a ton, and bearing the
seal of one of Henry VIII.’s Commissioners, probably impressed upon
it at the time of his visit, with reference to the Dissolution of the
priory hard by, amongst the ruins of which the casting was found in
1888.
There would appear to be little doubt that this “pig” forms part of the
leaden roof of the priory, for in different accounts relating to the
suppression of the religious foundations throughout the country there
are many records of the melting down of the lead covering the roofs, in
order that it might be turned into cash. The ancient Communion plate
belonging to the church is of great interest, and includes a chalice,
dating from about 1570, the gift of the Earl of Leicester; a flagon,
paten, and chalice given by the Duchess of Dudley in 1638; and another
less ornamental chalice given in 1644 by the Countess of Monmouth. The
church was somewhat relentlessly and badly restored in 1865.
The priory was a foundation of the Augustinians or Black Canons, the
full title of whom was the Canons Regular of St. Augustine. The house
was founded about the year 1122 by Geoffrey de Clinton.
As we have before said, the chief attraction of Kenilworth nowadays
is its ruined castle, a magnificent and impressive red sandstone
pile, now overgrown with ivy and, alas, crumbling yearly into greater
decay, which in ancient times saw so much of the stir, pageantry,
and circumstance of life. And even if some of the legends and tales
connected with this truly wonderful building have little foundation in
actual fact, there is still much of unimpeachable history and romance
welded into its very fabric.
The glamour of Kenilworth is undeniable, and doubtless has been not a
little added to from the fact that so great and vivid a descriptive
writer as Sir Walter Scott made it the _locale_ of one of his most
popular and perhaps most readable novels. That his history is not
entirely accurate has little or nothing to do with the enjoyment of the
book by the general reader, nor does it militate against the interest
aroused in the fine ruins of the castle which he made the scene of so
much pageantry and romance.
The name of Kenilworth is probably derived from the Saxon owner
Kenulph or Kenelm, and “worthe,” signifying a dwelling–place; but in
the Domesday Book it is called Chenewrd, and in some Charters Chenille
Wurda, the “worthe” or manor of Chenil. Whether the original owner of
the manor was one named Chenil, or Kenelm the Mercian, there is no
satisfactory evidence, but Dugdale associates the name with the latter,
and this, indeed, seems the more probable derivation. One thing appears
certain, however, namely, that the original founder of Kenilworth
was a man of considerable position, because his buhr or keep and its
earthworks were both extensive and strong.
[Illustration: BADDESLEY CLINTON HALL.]
At the period of the Domesday Book the manor of Kenilworth was a
portion of the royal manor of Stoneleigh, and was divided into two
parts, known as “Opton or Upton, containing three hides, held direct
of the King by Albertus Clericus, in pure alms; and Chineworde, held
by Ricardus Forestarius. Opton is upper–town or high–town, the rising
ground to the north of the present church. Chineworth is Kenilworth
proper.” It seems probable that Chineworth is a corruption of the name
Kenilworth.
The ancient history of the castle is, owing to the great alterations
made by succeeding owners and the absence of records, very difficult to
trace, though it is quite certain that the owner of the manor during
Saxon times, as was usual, fortified the best position by earthworks,
and also probably erected an earthen keep. The exact site of the
latter is quite an open question, as is the point as to which of the
earthworks now traceable date back to the far remote period of Saxon
times. Indeed, until the reign of Henry I. the history of the castle is
largely speculative. Some authorities incline to the view that the site
of the present buildings was in Roman times that of a fort, temporary
or otherwise; which the Saxon chief afterwards selected, adopted, and
enlarged, that it might afford shelter and security for his own flocks
and herds which roamed the Arden, and even those also of his immediate
dependants.
Kenilworth and its several owners during the Middle Ages saw many
vicissitudes and several tragic events. In the Barons’ War it changed
hands several times, and among its most famous owners was Simon de
Montfort, Earl of Leicester, who led the Barons against King Henry III.
Many royal visits were paid during the succeeding reigns, and Edward
II. was deposed in the Great Hall, and afterwards kept a prisoner in
the castle.
In 1563 Kenilworth was granted by Queen Elizabeth to her favourite,
Robert Dudley, who in the following year was created Earl of Leicester.
Soon after coming into possession of this magnificent fortress dwelling
he set about to make radical alterations. We are told that he “gutted
the keep and forebuilding, afterwards fitting them up in the Tudor
style, and also erected the pile of buildings which are known by his
name, and rebuilt the Gallery Tower on the outer end of the dam, and
probably added an upper story to the great barn.” One of his finest
additions was undoubtedly the great gate–house on the north side, by
which means he turned what had formerly been the rear of the castle
into the front, approaching it from the road crossing the valley
instead of from the side of the fields and lake. It is considered by
several authorities, too, that it was probably he who later on filled
up the ditch of the inner ward. The building material he used was
ashlar, and although the work was not badly done, it was probably
carried out too rapidly, and was, therefore, not of a very substantial
or lasting character. Afterwards, when the castle was allowed to fall
into disrepair, and the roofs and floors disappeared, the walls soon
gave way and became unsafe.
Doubtless with a view of entertaining his royal mistress, who visited
the castle in 1566, 1568, 1572, and 1575, Robert Dudley spent an
immense sum on his alterations, which has been variously estimated from
fifty to seventy–five thousand pounds: a sum which in those days, of
course, represented a far greater amount than would appear at first
sight. Although no doubt Queen Elizabeth was entertained right royally
on the occasions of all her visits, it was the last one, which began
on Saturday 9th of July, and did not end until the 26th, that is
most historically famous by reason of the extraordinarily lavish and
interesting character of its entertainments prepared for the Queen.
From contemporary accounts—all the revels were chronicled in detail by
Laneham, an attendant on the Queen—we gather at least some idea of what
these famous festivities were like. The Queen was met, whilst still
distant from the castle several hundred yards, by a person dressed
to represent “one of the ten sibills cumly clad in a pall of white
sylk, who pronounced a proper poezie in English rime and meeter.” This
service “Her Majestie benignly accepted, and passed foorth into the
next gate of the Brayz, which, for the length, largenes, and use, they
now call the Tylt–yard.”
Immediately on entering the latter the porter, a huge fellow, who is
recorded to have been so overcome with a sense of the Queen’s majesty
that he scarcely knew what to do, presented the keys to the Queen. This
ceremony finished, six trumpeters, dressed in loose, silken garments,
who stood upon the wall over the gateway, blew a fanfare of welcome,
whilst “her Highness, all along this Tilt–yard, rode into the inner
gate, where a person representing the Lady of the Lake (famous in King
Arthur’s Book), with two Nymphes waiting upon her, arrayed all in
sylks, attended her Highness coming.” These beings appeared suddenly on
a floating island in the lake blazing with torches, and made a speech
of welcome to the Queen, which ended with music; the speech which was
made by the Lady of the Lake narrated the “auncientee of the castle,”
and the dignities and titles of the Earls of Leicester, and concluded
with the following verse:—
Wherefore, I will attend while you lodge here,
(Most peerless Queene) to Court to make resort;
And as my love to Arthure did appeere,
So shal’t to you in earnest and in sport.
A special road had been made by which the Queen entered the castle,
a bridge 20 feet wide and 70 feet long having been constructed across
the dry valley leading to the castle gates, for her to pass over. The
posts erected on either side bore trays and bowls containing gifts from
the gods, which a poet had been engaged especially to present to her.
These consisted of rare fruits from Pomona, corn from Ceres, wine from
Bacchus, a cage of wild fowl from Silvanus, sea fish from Neptune,
weapons from Mars, and musical instruments from Phœbus. Her Majesty
then passed into the inner court, and (again quoting the ancient
account) “thear set doun from her palfrey was conveied up to a chamber,
when after did follo a great peal of Gunz and lightning by Fyr–work.”
One can well imagine that the Queen must have been fatigued by her
reception, which seems to have included several recitals in addition
to the Latin poem, which was read to her by a poet clad “in a long
ceruleous Garment with a Bay Garland on his head and a skrol in his
hand.”
The festivities thus inaugurated lasted for seventeen days, and
included nearly every conceivable amusement popular in those days.
There were hunting parties, dances, and theatrical representations,
fireworks on the lake, bear baitings, Italian tumblers, tilting at the
Quintain, a country Bride–ale or marriage feast, and Morrice dancing,
the performers for the latter entertainment being probably drawn from
Long Marston, near Stratford–on–Avon, which in those days was famous
for them. Most elaborate aquatic sports were also given on the lake,
where a Triton appeared riding on a mermaid 18 feet long, accompanied
by Arion on a dolphin, from the interior of each of which proceeded
hidden music of a delightful character. In addition to all these things
the Coventry players made a special journey to give their ancient play
called “Hocks Tuesday,” which depicted scenes from the incidents of the
massacre of the Danes in the reign of King Ethelred.
With these latter performances it is recorded the Queen expressed
herself as greatly pleased, giving to the players a couple of fat bucks
and five marks in money for a feast.
Leicester not only entertained the Queen, but crowds of other folk seem
to have enjoyed the open house provided, and we are told by Laneham
that “The Clok Bell sang not a Note, all the while her Highness waz
thear: the Clok also stood still withall; the handz of both the tablz
stood firm and fast, allweys pointing at 2 a’Clok,” this being the
usual banqueting hour.
Some idea of the cost of the festivities, which is stated by some
authorities to have amounted to at least a thousand a day, may be
gained from the fact that no less than 320 hogsheads of beer were
drunk. The Queen marked her approval of the entertainment provided
by knighting five gentlemen, amongst whom were Sir Thomas Cecil, son
and heir to the Lord High Treasurer Sir Henry Cobham, and Sir Francis
Stanhope; and it would appear that she also touched for the King’s
Evil, as a record exists that “Nyne persons were cured of the peynful
and daungerous deseaz called the King’s Evil.” All of the masques
were written specially for the occasion; a good number of them by
George Gascoigne, and may be found in his well–known account of the
festivities, entitled “Princely Pleasures at Kenilworth.”
As is well known, Sir Walter Scott in his novel describes Amy Robsart
as being present at Kenilworth in 1575. This idea, however, is entirely
erroneous, as indeed are many other incidents recorded in the tale.
She died at Cumnor Place fifteen years before this royal pageant, and
it seems probable that her death occurred prior to the granting of the
castle to Leicester; although she may possibly have passed through
Kenilworth on a journey, as there is an old tradition to this effect at
Moreton Morrell.
Very briefly, the real facts concerning Amy Robsart are as follows. The
only legitimate child of Sir John Robsart of Siderstern, she was born
in 1532, and was married at the age of eighteen on 4th June, at the
Royal Palace of Sheen, to Lord Dudley, in the presence of Edward VI.
and many members of the Court. She lived chiefly in the country during
the time that her husband was in attendance on the Court, and ten years
after her marriage, in 1560, was residing at Cumnor Place, rented from
William Owen, a son of George Owen, who had been one of the physicians
to King Henry VIII. At this time there were staying with her a Mrs.
Odingsells, sister of Mr. Hyde, and Mrs. Owen, wife of the owner of the
house.
It was on Sunday, 8th September, that she was found dead at the foot
of a staircase, with her neck broken, by the servants, who had been
allowed to visit the fair at Abingdon. In due course an inquest was
held, and full inquiry made into the circumstances of her death, but
nothing was discovered in the least implicating any one as accessory to
it.
Although Robert Dudley was undoubtedly secretly married at the time
of his Sovereign’s visit to Kenilworth, it was not to Amy Robsart.
Four years previous to the Queen’s visit he had engaged himself to
Lady Douglas Sheffield, whom he had privately married in May two years
later, a son, Robert, being shortly afterwards born to them. This
marriage (concerning the legality of which there seems to be some
doubt) he ultimately endeavoured to repudiate, and at the time of the
festivities at Kenilworth he was actually carrying on a clandestine
intrigue with Lettice, Countess of Essex, whose husband died in the
following year.
In 1578, although Lady Douglas Sheffield was alive, he married Lady
Lettice, who was a daughter of Sir Francis Knollys, and a son was born
to them, who, however, died in 1584. On Leicester’s death it was found
that he had bequeathed the castle for life to his brother Ambrose, Earl
of Warwick, and after him to his son by Lady Douglas Sheffield, whom he
termed Sir Robert Dudley.
The only portion now habitable of what was anciently one of
the finest baronial fortress homes in the kingdom is Leicester’s
magnificent gate–house, which many authorities are agreed equals in its
size and beauty of architecture many a manor–house itself. The old–time
entrance passage of this gate–house nowadays forms two rooms and small
additions. The magnificent fireplace in one of the rooms of the house
is said to be a relic brought from the castle, probably at the time of
its dismantlement by the Parliamentarians.
[Illustration: MAXSTOKE CASTLE.]
The entrance to the castle is through a small gateway, a few yards
distant from the gate–house; and after passing through a strip of
garden the outer court of the castle is reached, and an impressive and
fairly extensive view of the whole building is obtained.
On the right–hand side are the remains of the buildings which in former
times formed the northern side of the inner court, with the once
extensive stables, just visible on the left through a small shrubbery,
with the circular Lunn’s Tower some forty feet in height close to
them, and projecting from the curtain. The tower has two upper floors
with fireplaces, and to one of these has been given (why it is not
discoverable) the title of the King’s Chamber. The loopholes are all
splayed on the inside, to assist in the discharge of arrows, and on
the outside wall are holes, in which were placed beams to support the
wooden galleries, called “hoards,” which enabled the defenders to have
a command of the walls, and thus make it impossible for the attacking
force to obtain shelter by keeping close to them. The entrance to the
tower was blown up during the Civil War in the reign of Charles I.
The stabling, which is on the ground floor, of stone, and the upper
part mostly of timber and brick, has in the centre a large porch and a
wide entrance, as though this part of the building was once used for
the purpose of a barn. The work is chiefly in the Late Perpendicular
style, although traditionally of a much earlier date.
Mortimer’s Tower lies at the other end of the stable buildings,
past the warder’s chamber, and is at the castle end of the tilt–yard
or dam. Why called Mortimer’s Tower has never been satisfactorily
settled, as although Scott and some other writers believe that it
took its name from the Earl of March, who played the principal part
in the great tournament in the reign of Edward I., and may possibly
have lodged in it, others incline to the view that it derived it from
the circumstance of a Sir John Mortimer having been imprisoned in it
during the reign of Henry V. As a fact, the tower is more properly to
be considered a strong double gateway, leading into the tilt–yard, and
formerly provided with two portcullises and a double set of gates.
Remains of chambers on either side are discoverable, the one on the
left hand possessing a garderobe; the outer entrance is defended by
two half–round towers, which are pierced with loopholes for repelling
attack. The tower gateway leads out upon the high bank, which was
originally a portion of the dam of the great lake, and was used as
a tilt–yard. It extends for a distance of about eighty yards to the
Gallery Tower placed at the end of this isthmus–like strip of land,
which in ancient times separated the lower lake from the great lake.
The Gallery Tower, however, cannot now be reached from the tilt–yard,
owing to the fact that a deep cutting was made through the dam for the
purpose of draining off the waters from the lake, but it can be seen
embowered in trees from the castle side of the cutting. This name was
probably derived from the fact that in ancient times it was furnished
with “a broad and fair gallery, set aside for the use of the ladies,
who were thus able to witness in comfort the jousts and feats of
chivalry which took place in the tilting–yard,” and also a “spacious
and noble room” for the same purpose. It was through this gate that
Queen Elizabeth made her entry into the castle, and from it to the
other gate the special bridge had been constructed across the lake.
The “Brayz,” which are huge mounds of earth, once forming formidable
outworks to the castle, now overgrown by trees and underwood, probably
derived the name from the Norman–French _braie_, meaning a low rampart;
although another authority seems to think that the word was derived
from “brayda,” a suburban field or broad place.
Near the Water Tower, which is situated almost midway between Lunn’s
Tower and Mortimer’s Tower, can be traced the foundations of the castle
chapel, built by John of Gaunt. The tower is an interesting example of
architecture, in the ground–floor room of which, possibly originally
a kitchen, is a fine fireplace. The upper chamber, from which a good
view of Lunn’s Tower is obtained across the long, picturesque, and
weather–stained roof of the stables, is known as the Queen’s Chamber;
why, there is no record to tell, and it is, therefore, probable that
the name is a fanciful one. The Warder’s Room, which contains a
fireplace, and a large stone aumbry or recess, with a broken shelf, and
also a garderobe, is principally constructed in the thickness of the
wall, but projects to a slight extent on its outer face. It is situated
almost exactly midway between the Water Tower and Mortimer’s.
The great lake, mention of which has already been made, was upwards
of a hundred acres in extent, about a hundred yards in width, ten or
twelve feet in depth, and extended round the castle on its southern
and western sides for a distance of nearly half a mile. The second
or smaller lake, which existed in medieval times on the southern and
eastern sides of the castle, was drained by Leicester and converted by
him into an orchard.
Entering the castle buildings themselves from the outer ward into the
inner court, the huge impressive pile of Cæsar’s Tower rises above one
on the right, with the ruins of Leicester’s buildings opposite, on the
left. Once the inner court is entered, one has on the left the Privy
Chamber, Presence Chamber, and the ruins of the suite of rooms used by
Queen Elizabeth.
Immediately opposite the entrance to the inner court are the ruined
walls of the great hall, under which is the postern leading out on to
the ramparts by which, in Walter Scott’s _Kenilworth_, Wayland Smith
was ejected by Michael Lambourne. The outer path to this postern cuts
through the great bank on which the hall is placed, and which was the
inner boundary of the moat of the older castle, the moat of which was
what is now a hollow space between it and the garden wall. It seems
probable that this great mound of earth was the buhr of the original
Saxon owner. Other authorities, however, suppose that the mound was the
site occupied by the keep.
The postern is a square–headed doorway, and formerly had a portcullis,
but this must have been rather more for show than as able to afford
any special security, as the huge windows of the hall above would have
made the defence of this particular side of the castle a matter of
considerable difficulty.
Cæsar’s Tower, and the block of buildings contiguous to it, are well
seen from the point where the postern gate and passage running under
the Banqueting Hall open upon the inner court.
From the summit of the Strong Tower one has a fine view of the
surrounding country, and also of the gardens, pleasance, and the
remains of the Swan Tower, now almost hidden in ivy and trees, the
bottom stage of which used probably to be anciently used for the
purposes of housing or feeding the swans in the moat.
Immediately next to the Strong Tower is the Great Hall, a magnificent
though sadly ruined example of domestic architecture of the period,
measuring 90 feet by 45 feet. It was originally approached by a broad
straight staircase on its north–eastern side, which led to the portal
or porch resting upon a vault. In this porch, which is vaulted and
groined and beautifully panelled, with the hollows of the mouldings
of the doorway filled with exquisite foliated work, there is a small
recess for the warder or usher. The floor of the hall rested upon the
vaulted roof of a magnificent cellar; the vaulting springing from ten
piers arranged in double rows at equal distances from the walls, and
having corresponding half–pillars against the walls themselves and in
the angles. The lighting of the hall above was from large windows set
in deep splayed recesses, with wide stone window seats, three on the
eastern and four on the western side, each of two lights, divided by
two transoms and richly carved. There are the remains of two large
fireplaces, one on either side of the hall, situated at about one–third
of its length, measuring from the south end; and on the side next to
the inner court is a magnificent oriel, constructed of five sides of
an octagon, and formerly communicating with the dais by an arch, and
containing three large windows of two lights, and a small one.
The roof of this fine hall was of open timbered work, supported by
five hammer beams on each side, the holes for which are still visible
between the windows, the whole building forming a beautiful and very
pure specimen of Early Perpendicular work.
Such is a brief description of all that remains of this once splendid
medieval fortress, which was at the same time a dwelling notable
for its luxurious fittings and the splendid entertainments that so
frequently took place within its walls. Situated almost ideally, it
possesses a wide prospect of fertile lands and wooded vales, over which
in ancient times the Lord of Kenilworth held sway. It is, indeed,
lamentable that this fine castle should have aroused the destructive
propensities of the Cromwellians, and should not have been preserved,
as have happily so many other medieval buildings in the fair county
of Warwick, much as it was when knights and ladies trod its halls in
stately measure or revelry, and strolled on its terraces and through
its pleasances.