Knitted architecure

These themes seemed to be an impossible mission until I remembered my neighbour, the castle.

Not only is it a good example of the architecture used by the 16th century builders of henry VIII's fortifications, but it also has examples of the method used to strengthen the mortar between the stones, in many cases taken from religious houses destroyed during the dissolution of the monasteries.  The builders used to insert flints into the mortar to make sure the stones were well knitted together.

When you consider that some of the stonework was taken from monasteries, (and you can still see the carvings on them) you could say not only were the stones physically knitted together but in a fairly loose way they are a knitting together of the religious with the secular.

But once I got the bit between my teeth, I realised that the whole town of Deal has various styles of architecture knitted together to make a unique whole, everything from the castles to the modern pier.

This view is taken down one of the streets leading from the seafront, showing 17th and 18th century houses looking towards the 1901 building, Lloyd Court.  This was first a school, then a retirement home, then a convalescent home, and now it's a block of flats.

The beautiful old buildings seem relatively content to look out over the much more modern pier (1957).

 

 

And these days, if you click to see the enlarged picture, the view includes wind turbines on the horizon.

Not only do we enjoy a great range of architecture but the community itself is knitted from many different groups: the locals (and you can't consider yourself local unless you were born here, not even after 30 years), the retired, the weekenders, and the DFLs (the Down-From-Londons).  The last group with their big city ways are looked on with a certain amount of amusement by the locals, but also with tolerance.

A two-in-one post for the Photo Hunts. 

The hurdy gurdy man (and woman)

The weather recently has been changeable to say the least. Heavy rain, light rain, thunderstorms, interspersed by occasional glimpses of blue sky. So today when it looked as if there might be occasional glimpses of blue sky, I headed off to the local castle where they were having an exhibition, international no less, of basketry and wicker-work. I'm not frantically interested in wicker-work but I most certainly am interested in blue sky.

There were glimpses of blue sky and the sun did shine but as you can see, there were black clouds around just to make sure nobody became too complacent.

In the midst of wandering around all the exhibits, I suddenly noticed music playing and a troupe of folk dancers appeared.

They are a troupe specialising in the local Berry Region music, song and dance.  The Berry is one of the old French provinces, now split into the Cher, Indre and part of Vienne.  The capital used to be Bourges.

The tradition is to wear clogs and most of the dancers were, to my surprise.  It seems to me to be a very special accomplishment to be able to dance in clogs.  They very sensibly wore thick woolly socks inside the clogs. 

The dances seemed relatively sedate.  This one seemed to consist of several steps and a little jump.  I would have loved to have managed a shot of all dancers in the air, but that requires some co-operation from the dancers.

All the dancing was accompanied by players on the vielle à roue, a medieval instrument.  There is an annual festival of music each year of Maîtres-Sonneurs or master players.

Carvings on a nearby church, showing a vielle à roue being played.  I'm not sure of the significance of that, nor of the donkey playing a harp.

After that they disappeared back into the catle, with me in pursuit, taking photos wherever I could.  To follow.

Bruniquel

Approaching the Bruniquel, it looks much the same as any or many other hilltop villages in France.  By the time we had spent a couple of days in the Tarn, in the south west of France, I felt I knew hilltop villages.  I had hilltop village fatigue.

To some extent then, it was possibly fortunate that this was the first one I saw.  Later in the day I was less inclined to take pictures, so at least my visit to Bruniquel was recorded.  And it was well worth the visit.

The original church was destroyed during the religious wars of the 16th century but rebuilt during the 17th using the stones from the former Protestant church.  It has a simple "clocher-mur" or bell wall typical of the south west of France.  When the bells ring, they are incredibly loud, deafening, if you are nearby.

Up the hill to the clock tower, also with a bell, at an entrance through one of the fortified walls.  It has two, and two castles, the old and the new.  "Old" and "new" are relative terms because the new one dates from the 15th century.

Porte Méjane, through the old walls with a view of a medieval house, the tribunal house.

An arch and a doorway.  Plenty of photo opportunities for me.

Place de l'Horloge, recently restored.

The new entrance, la Porte Neuve, with the only remaining vestiges of the "new" walls.

 The "young" castle, currently undergoing extensive restoration.

A plaque on the wall with a quotation from Fréderi Mistral who wrote in Occitan.  The plaque reads, "The route of St Jacques leads us to Paradise".  It is a reference to the fact that Bruniquel is one of the stopping points on the Way of St Jacques (St James), also known as the Route of Santiago de Compostela.

Leaving the village, you get a better idea of just how dominant the castles must have been and a view of their positions - the old castle on the right and the new on the left. 

They have recently found  caves below the castles which have paintings and carvings dating from the Mesolithic era.  The caves are unfortunately, but probably understandably, not open to the public.

I probably spent no longer than two hours there, maximum, maybe not even as much as that, and with hindsight it really wasn't long enough.  I'd happily go back, this time armed with a good map.

A Tudor Rose built in stone

If you walk past Deal Castle, you won't appreciate its shape and you may even not be very impressed, not if you're a fan of large and impressive castles.  Deal is a low and rather squat building, but ideal for its purpose. The low profile presented a very small target for the enemy and that is why it was built.

The walls of high medieval castles aren't well adapted to withstanding heavy fire so the castles built by Henry VIII to withstand the threat of invasion from Europe in 1538 were very different.  They had thick walls with a central round keep surrounded by semi-circular bastions.  Deal is a prime example, especially since later additions of warden's were destroyed during the Second World War.  That particular cloud had a silver lining because it restored the castle to its original state.

In the 18th century, the parapets were changed from the original more rounded appearance into the current shape, more like the crenellation usually imagined as a "typical" castle. There were cannon on top of the central keep, and on the lower bastions, giving three levels in all, with 145 gun ports.

In this picture you can see the slope of the paving, upwards away from the parapets.  This was to counteract the recoil from the cannon.

Inside there were further gun ports in vaulted chambers with vents to allow smoke to escape.

These were on ground floor level, with the kitchens and soldiers' room. Beneath this was the basement, or "rounds", a continuous circular passage with still further gun ports, an ammunition store, and at the centre a well.

The copper door to the ammunition store, to protect against sparks.

The well in the basement.  Hand pumps in various places drew water from this well.  A laundry was installed at a later date.

On the upper floor of the keep were rooms for officers.  These were refurbished during the 18th century.

An old fireplace in the officers' quarters.

The rooms are all odd shapes but it's really only outside that you can appreciate the shape of the whole castle.  Better still is an aerial view but this artist's view shows not only how the parapets have been altered and how the sea has retreated, but it also gives a very clear impression of the Tudor Rose shape.

The route and castles of Richard the Lionheart

A year ago, just over that now, as we drove south in central France I noticed the magic three little dots on the map that signify a ruin, or maybe a castle, possibly both. Whatever they mean, as far as I'm concerned they are generally worth investigating.

The three dots were marked Châlucet. The signposts on the road offered a choice of Châlus-Chabrol, Châlus-Maulmont, or Chalusset but eventually I found the right one and saw the scene above. The castle ruins loomed out of the trees and mists. Spooky, don't you think? I had to get closer.

After a few detours, we arrived at the right place and found to my satisfaction that it's not just an ordinary ruined castle but one that's on Richard the Lionheart's route, la Route de Richard, Coeur de Lion, as they say around here. It's an impressive sight I must admit, and it is interesting too, to find that there was a connection with Richard I of England.

On reading up the connection of this particular castle with Richard is shaky to say the least. Richard as the third son of Henry II of England, wasn't expected to become king and was raised to be Duke of Aquitaine at his mother's, Eleanor of Aquitaine's, request. This castle and the other points along the route are a collection of medieval of châteaux, churches and fortified towns along the borders of the Duchy of Aquitaine, which belonged to the Angevins/Plantagents, against the King of France to the north and the Viscount of Toulouse to the south.

The signposted (but ignored) Châlus-Chabrol is on the route, as it might be, as it's the place where Richard died, but its nearby near-namesake, Châlus-Maulmont, has nothing to do with him at all, part from being in the right area in the right era.

On the other hand, Turenne isn't mentioned at all.

The castle and its surrounding area was ruled by the Vicounts of Turenne and was almost an autonomous state.  Richard's brother, Henry, died in a castle nearby in 1193.  It's an interesting place in its own right, and I particularly like its unofficial motto which is all but untranslatable but pleases me nevertheless:

Pompadour pompe, Ventadour vente. Turenne règne. 

Roughly, it could mean that while Turenne rules, Pompadour and Ventadour are full of hot air.  Of course Pompadour and Ventadour are worth visits too.  So many castles, so little time.

Route Richard Coeur de Lion.  Source.

Updated to include a map of the route.  Click to enlarge