Whitley Castle: a Very Special Roman Fort (NY695487)

Whitley Castle, as drawn by Thomas Sopwith in 

The Roman Wall by John Collingwood

Bruce, (1853). North is to the right!

Whitley Castle Roman Fort – or, more properly, Epiacum – lies on the Northumberland side of the county border with Cumbria a couple of miles NW of Alston. It is, of course, one of many such Roman remains scattered across the North-East, but this one is rather special in two ways.

Firstly, it is lozenge-shaped, as opposed to the standard playing-card set-up. This is due to the lie of the land hereabouts – a 1,050-ft high remote spot in the foothills of the Pennines – and the distorted ground plan is accentuated by the similarly skewed layout of the internal buildings. Its potted history is a familiar one: Iron Age site, followed by a Roman camp, then a full-blown fort c.120AD. There appear to have been rebuilds in c.200AD, then again around 300AD.

Its shape is, we think, unique in the Roman world. Additionally, it has the most complex system of defensive earthworks of any known fort in the Empire – an astonishing claim to fame. There are multiple banks, ditches and folds in the landscape outside the stone ramparts of the fort itself – it being suggested that the main purpose of the stronghold was to control and protect lead and silver mining in the area.

Despite its rather special features the fort has never been fully excavated and to this day lies largely undisturbed under permanent pasture. It is perhaps the greatest archaeological monument in the north of England yet to be uncovered.

Oh, and one other (quite) special thing: it is the highest stone-built Roman fort in Britain…

Kilton Castle (NZ702176)

One of the lesser-known and less cared for relics of Cleveland’s history is Kilton Castle, a crumbling spread of masonry clinging to the side of the dene overlooking Kilton Beck a little to the south-west of Loftus.

The stronghold, which is now largely enveloped by greenery, was built in the late 12^th century on a rocky outcrop overlooking the valley below, being commissioned by the de Kilton family on land leased from the famous de Brus (Bruce) family – and probably preceded by a wooden affair. Immediately thereafter the land thereabouts became more intensely worked, and a sizeable village (Kilton) began developing nearby. Milling was the dominant industry, with records of such activity surviving from the 1320s.

By the end of the 14^th century, however, the castle and village had been all but abandoned – yes, the Black Death may have had a lot to do with it – and the fortress began its long decline into ruin. Despite occasional attempts at partial restoration, come the 16^th century it was long gone and as good as forgotten.

In the 18^th century another large village estate was built at Kilton, but this was soon dismantled and replaced in the 19^th century by a couple of large farmstead estates which remain in use today.

Despite being Grade I listed, the old castle receives little in the way of care and attention. The site occupies a fair old area – c.100m x 30m – but after a 1990s survey and preservation plan failed to stir anyone into action, nature began reclaiming the plot again at an alarming rate.

More information (and a link to some pictures) can be found here – though there’s not much to see.

Crazy Castle (NZ652194)

Crazy Castle was the common name for old Skelton Castle, the edifice which predated the current structure of this name a little to the north-west of the town of Skelton-in-Cleveland.  The above etching seems to be the only surviving image of this mysterious place – itself a rather fanciful (and possibly inaccurate) attempt at recording its image for posterity. It probably acquired its nickname due to its ramshackle look as it fell into disrepair in its final years.

The land thereabouts was granted to the de Brus (Bruce) family in the years after the Norman Conquest, and a castle was soon built. Added to and altered many times over the years, and passing between various families, it seems to have spent much of 14^th-18^th centuries slowly disintegrating, until it was unceremoniously flattened in 1788.

At which point I shall let The History & Antiquities of Cleveland by John Walker Ord (1846) take over the story…

Skelton Castle — Of this old baronial fortress of De Brus and Fauconberg we know little even by tradition. No traces now remain of the frowning keeps and dungeons, the embattled towers, the huge portcullis, the aspiring pinnacles, the graceful terraces, nor even of that “fair sumptuous chapel, one of the jewels of the kingdom,” to which the Lord de Piercy led every Christmas-day the fair Lady de Brus. It has stood on a considerable eminence, surmounted by beautiful woods both above and below, and defended by impassable moats and impregnable outworks and embankments, abundant traces of which are extant to this day. The views to the west and north are diverse and commanding, and embrace, among other objects, the lovely retreats of Upleatham, with a brief glimpse of the Tees’ mouth and the sea. The drawing of the old castle is supplied by a clergyman of the West Riding, who writes:— “The enclosed sketch represents the castle at that period, and, it is supposed, for three centuries previous. The old castle, built about 1140, was a beautiful specimen of antiquity and of picturesque loveliness, being nearly surrounded by a deep glen, finely wooded. In 1788 the grandson of John Hall, who assumed the name of Wharton, commenced the work of destruction, and, at an enormous expense, contrived to flood the glen, demolish the terraces, pull down every remnant of Norman antiquity, including a magnificent tower; and has left behind him the most extraordinary specimen of folly and bad taste to be found in the whole country.”

Extract from the same letter:— “I have no doubt but that the round tower in the sketch, which had been converted into a pigeon-cote, and the large square tower introduced in the sketch, were there before the Conquest*; and I well remember viewing their destruction with tears in my eyes. The person he employed, and who urged him on to the work of destruction, was a Mr. Mickle, whom I afterwards met at Farnley Hall, and let him feel the lash of my tongue for the mischief he had done in my native vale.”

* unlikely.