Warwick Castle 

Volume 1 | Issue 3 - Colonialism

Article by Liam Geoghegan. Edited by Harriet Di Francesco. Additional Research by Robyn Hall. 

Warwick Castle is one of the top ten visitor attractions in the UK; it was voted Britain’s best castle in 2003 and has a history spanning close to 1,000 years. As the author of this article, it is important to mention that Warwick is one of my favourite and most frequented castles. Having grown up in Birmingham, Warwick Castle and the adjoining Warwick Park were often the venue for family days out in the summer, as well as school trips throughout the year. It is certainly among the castles that sparked my interest in history, due partly to the jousts that were staged there on Bank Holidays (I still have a photograph of the “Red Knight” on horseback). In fact, the castle still held its charm over me when I was there over the summer, but more of that later. 

Apart from being a place of personal nostalgia, Warwick Castle has a fascinating history. Originally constructed as a motte-and-bailey under William the Conqueror, the castle became prominent in the 1400s, when it came into the hands of the legendary “Kingmaker”, Richard Neville. Today it continues to prevail as a popular tourist attraction, owned by the Tussauds Group. 

Since its construction, Warwick Castle has undergone numerous modifications. Formerly built in 1068, it became the official residence of the Earl of Warwick twenty years later. The following century a stone castle replaced the motte-and bailey and in the 1300s the main facade was improved. Further fortifications were added in the 1640s when the castle was under ownership by a Parliamentarian, Robert Greville. 

Although Royalist forces failed in their attempt to take Warwick, they were, ironically, later accommodated as prisoners within the castle. This was not the first time that royalist prisoners had been held at Warwick. King Edward IV was incarcerated in the castle by Richard Neville in the fifteenth century. 

Neville is arguably Warwick Castle’s most interesting, and most famous, inhabitant. An extensive exhibit on his life is still one of the castle’s main attractions. His epithet of “the Kingmaker” could not be more fitting. For a number of years, Neville (16th Earl of Warwick and 6th Earl of Salisbury) was effectively the most powerful and wealthiest man in the country aside from the king. He was one of the leaders of a successful rebellion against Henry VI (the king who had knighted him in the 1440s), as part of the Wars of the Roses in the 1460s. The Kingmaker then turned against Edward IV (who he had helped ascend to the throne), due to conflict over Edward’s controversial marriage and foreign policy-making, after which he returned to his original allegiance to Henry. 

Confusing politics aside, Warwick was once home to one of the most important men in the country, whose influence even spread across the Channel into France (Neville was also Captain of Calais). Interestingly, Warwick Castle’s association with power did not end here. His family being tied to the area, a young Winston Churchill used to stay at the castle in its converted form as a stately home. 

Besides its extraordinary political history however, I must conclude this article by boasting of my most recent visit to Warwick. For the past four or five years, Warwick Castle has been home to the largest working siege engine in Europe – a trebuchet. Being the rather sad individual that I am, simply seeing the trebuchet fired was thrilling in itself. However, things got far more exciting. The trebuchet is loaded via two large “hamster wheels” for want of a better description (I really don’t think there is one). These wheels turn to either increase or decrease the tautness of the rope. The rope itself is attached to a large bowl which holds the shot (unfortunately I am no engineer and proper technical language fails me – see the image in order to better understand the workings of the machine). Essentially, these wheels turn when people (not hamsters, obviously) walk through them. In medieval warfare men would run inside the wheels, allowing the trebuchet to be fired at an astounding rate. Unfortunately for the soldiers, however, the intermittent light streaming through the slotted bars of the wheels would cause horrific motion sickness. During my last visit to Warwick Castle of 2009, (thankfully not in warfare), I was lucky enough to be one of these people during a firing demonstration. Not only did I help load a burning trebuchet shot (yes, it is what it sounds like), I witnessed the fiery projectile being flung hundreds of feet from just an arms-length away. Brilliant!