The idea of a castle inspires us to dream of magical places far away and
long ago. We owe our romantic image of the Middle Ages to the fantasies
of authors like Sir Thomas Malory (c. 1416–71) in the fifteenth
century, Edmund Spenser (1532–99) in the sixteenth century, or Alfred,
Lord Tennyson (1809–92) in the nineteenth century. They wrote about
wonderful characters like King Arthur and the Knights of the Round
Table, Queen Guenevere and Sir Lancelot, Morgan le Fay, and fairy
queens and swan maidens. Through their eyes we see heroic knights battling
demons, magicians, witches, and dragons. Their warriors are not
young thugs, trained killers who were destined to die of festering wounds.
These knights of romance are handsome youths dedicated to truth and
goodness and the defense of virtue as personified by beautiful damsels in
distress.
Transformed by gleaming armor, his miraculous sword in hand, the gallant
knight rides through the deep dark forest mounted on his mighty
white steed, ready to face down every imaginable peril—dragons, serpents,
or, best of all, an evil knight in polished black armor ready to fight
to the death. Triumphant, our hero frees the impotent aged king and
helpless queen, who in gratitude give him their only daughter as his bride
and at least half the kingdom as his reward.
Heroic themes of yesteryear still resonate in popular culture: Robin
Hood confronting the sheriff of Nottingham; the Lone Ranger, astride
his horse Silver, bringing justice to the Wild West; and Sir Gawain facing
the perils of the forest and an enchanted castle. We even have our
own contemporary “knights in shining armor,” for example, the football
quarterback, masked by protective “armor” decorated with
heraldic colors and symbolic emblems and animals, who leads his team
of loyal companions against an oncoming horde intent on breaking
through his defenses while preventing him from taking over their
home territory.
Our hero eventually needs more than a warhorse, faithful squire, and
shining armor. He must have a base of operations—a castle. Castles pepper
the medieval landscape—the knight’s own stronghold, his lord’s castle,
and the castles of friends and enemies. Naturally the castles of
romance are no ordinary fortresses, but architectural fantasies with a jumble
of walls, towers, and fortified gates rising on the crest of a hill or clinging
to a cliff overlooking a swiftly flowing river. A moat and drawbridge
block the approach to the castle. Massive doors and the sliding grill of a
portcullis defend its entrance while flanking towers provide surveillance
points, and their vaults hide murder holes.
World History
