DISCOVER
We often think of ruined castles as being ‘romantic’. But what does that mean in a place where castles are symbols of something darker?
Castell Carreg Cennen
IT’S FUNNY HOW we tend to think of ruined castles as being romantic.
Because generally, they aren’t.
Not the really old ones, anyway.
Fair enough, ‘castles’ of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries are often romantic confections: pleasure palaces designed to demonstrate affluence, success and style (Castle Howard, Nottingham Castle, Peckforton Castle, I’m looking at you).
But your proper castles – the ones that hail from the period spanning the Middle Ages to the Civil War – were all about intimidation, subjugation and control. These are not, generally speaking, romantic concepts. Yet time and again, organisations like Visit Britain, the National Trust and English Heritage (and perhaps even walking magazines) will speak of ruined castles as being ‘romantic’. Why is that?
To explore this idea, I’ve come to Castell Carreg Cennen, at the western foothills of the Brecon Beacons/Bannau Brycheiniog. It’s often described – even voted – as one of the most romantic ruins in Britain. As soon as you visit its homepage on the website of the Welsh heritage organisation Cadw, you’re greeted by this promise: ‘This iconic ruin offers an unforgettably romantic experience’.
Which is remarkable, because nowhere are castles a more problematic phenomenon than in Wales. Castles in Wales are not, generally, Welsh. Most of them were built by the English for the express purpose of suppressing the Welsh, in particular by Edward I after he had defeated the revolts of Llywelyn ap Gruffudd in 1282. If these castles are symbols of anything, it’s not romance, but oppression. (Interestingly, the very name of ‘Wales’ is thought to derive from an Anglo-Saxon word for ‘foreign’ or ‘other’ – aname applied by the invading overlords to those they wished to conquer.)
The fiercest expression of that is the ‘ring of iron’: a sequence of staggeringly impressive castles built by Edward to encircle the wild and mountainous ground we now call Eryri/Snowdonia, where Welsh rebellions had a habit of gestating.
The castle’s name is perfectly prosaic – it means ‘castle on the rock by the river Cennen’.
The generally acc
