This is the last post about my trip to the Isle of Wight. The first can be found here.
When I was around eight years old my class in school held a castle building competition. We were divided into teams, given a pile of boxes, scissors, string and Sellotape and the timer was started. I’m not sure why, but I became adamant that our team’s castle should be replete with a working drawbridge and portcullis. This, due to the time constraints, caused some consternation among some members of the team. A degree of teacher diplomacy was called upon, and I was eventually awarded a splinter group within our team to build the drawbridge and portcullis. We won the competition. I felt rather satisfied that our castle’s working drawbridge and portcullis was named as a deciding factor in the win.
Still, this small success is no evidence that I could have made it as a successful castle builder. I was so determined that it should have a drawbridge and portcullis that I had little concern for anything else. If I’d have been a castle builder during the Medieval period no doubt I would have been standing back to admire my fancy gatehouse with working drawbridge and portcullis when the enemy arrived and I was asked, “Maybe we should have built some walls as well?”
The competition was inspired by a project we were doing on castles. It was this project, and the subsequent trip to Porchester Castle, that sparked my early interest in these ancient defences. But I wasn’t the only one keenly interested in castle defences.
Much like Southsea Castle (discussed in my previous post), Yarmouth was designed differently to Henry’s earlier castles. It was square and featured a new ‘arrow-head’ bastion protruding from its southeast corner. This new style of bastion, developed in Italy, made the castle one of the most innovative military buildings in England. Most of the castle’s firepower was directed out to sea, leaving it vulnerable to land attack. For this reason a moat was dug on the land side. The new bastion was positioned at the corner of the moat and enabled the garrison to provide flanking fire to protect the moat-side walls. Any would-be attackers who tried to get close to the walls could easily be despatched.
The arrow-bastion revolutionised the design of fortresses, although the example at Yarmouth was initially somewhat lacking. The stone walls designed to protect soldiers from enemy fire were too short. Later alterations addressed the issue. It appears that Henry’s designers were experimenting with the concept before fully understanding it.
Yarmouth was the last of Henry’s castles. Not long after Southsea’s completion a French fleet approached Portsmouth, on 18th July 1545. They were retaliating for an invasion by Henry the previous year. Owed to a long standing dispute, Henry still believed he, as king of England, was the rightful king of France. The fleet landed on the Isle of Wight. The next day a naval battle occurred in front of Southsea while Henry watched from the mainland. It was during this battle that his beloved, and infamous, flagship the Mary Rose sank.*
Until the French fleet’s invasion, it was considered unnecessary to build a castle on the island. But by landing there they were beyond the reach of the mainland’s guns. The local militia defeated them, but the defensive weakness had been exposed. It was decided to build Yarmouth Castle. It was completed in 1547, after Henry’s death. It never saw action, but was garrisoned until 1885.
This is how it originally looked:
But the castle has been altered significantly since its construction. Its original courtyard was filled in during the late 16th/early 17th century, and in 1670 the outer earthworks were removed. The moat was also filled in and a house was built – now the George Hotel.
This is how it looks today:
Much like Southsea, Yarmouth’s only major action took place during the English Civil War. It was held by a Royalist captain, but he was clearly more sober and sensible than Southsea’s captain (as discussed in my previous post). When the Parliamentarians arrived the captain acknowledged that his tiny garrison was unlikely to repel such a large force, so he surrendered.
The castle’s displays explained how the town of Yarmouth once exerted Parliamentary influence vastly disproportionate to its size. During Elizabethan times, Yarmouth’s burgesses (local officials) were able to send two MPs to Parliament. This situation continued until 1832, despite Yarmouth only possessing around six hundred residents. Birmingham, meanwhile, with a population of nearly 150,000, didn’t have the right to send any!
In 1763, Yarmouth’s mayor was chosen during a meeting in which only he and one other burgess was present. This seems a little unseemly. Especially when the following year the same situation occurred, only with the two swapping places! It’s no wonder Yarmouth gained a reputation as a rotten borough. It still enjoys prestige beyond its size though. It’s Britain’s smallest town (unlike villages, towns have the right to hold regular markets, appoint mayors and construct town halls).
*As an aside, I visited the Mary Rose during a school trip in, I believe, the same year as the castle building competition. It was behind glass while being sprayed with water as part of its preservation. I remember wondering how long it would take to complete the process. That was back in the 1980s (it was raised in 1982). It’s scheduled to go on full display in the summer of 2016. It seems incredible that it’s taken so long. What an astounding amount of work it’s taken to preserve such a magnificent treasure. I’m thinking I might have to pay it a visit…