Castles!

By Radical Rhymes

I’ve always been fascinated by castles. Fortunately, I was raised in a country replete with them. They were all around me as a child, indeed my childhood home was overlooked by one of the most intriguing examples – Trematon Castle which overlooks my hometown of Saltash.

It is fairly unremarkable to look at I suppose, a Norman Motte and Bailey castle, it lacks the imposing character that some castles have. It sits quietly atop its wooded hill, removed from the public, a private shrine to a glorious past. It was listed in the Domesday Book, you see, and was once the home of the infamous Black Prince.

I could see it from my bedroom window. Many an hour I sat there reading, sending the occasional glance its way. There was something reassuring about its presence, something solid and eternal. I knew that it would be there throughout my lifetime, and that it would extend far, far into the future; that it would be there long after I returned to dust.

The family that owns it used to open it to the public on the odd day every year, but I was never in the right place at the right time to take those opportunities. However, I have been there because the primary school I attended somehow arranged a visit. I have snippets of memory, but little more than that, although what I have, I treasure.

So, that’s mainly why castles are such a minor obsession for me. I truly love them.

I also had one of my famous most alarming experiences in the grounds of a castle. My family once took me to Berry Pomeroy in Devon. It is an English Heritage site and reputedly one of the most haunted places in Britain. There are so many stories. For example, it’s said that a White Lady patrols the walls, the ghost of a woman whose sister imprisoned and starved her to death out of jealousy. So very many stories.

In all honesty, I wasn’t aware of this when we visited, but I certainly researched it after we left…

I was probably about 9 or so when we went there and not much versed in the supernatural. My memory isn’t fabulous, but what I do recall is a cold and cloudy day in mid-summer. My dad had wandered off, and my mum and oldest sister (who was already struggling to walk) had gone to the toilet. I was left alone, so I went outside the walls and started to explore the surrounding woodland.
Before long I heard a loud sound, like a gunshot, so I went to investigate. I saw, through the trees, a strange figure. It was a man in a blue cloak and a huge hat, carrying what looked like a long rifle. It was only a moment, because he disappeared behind a big tree and didn’t reappear one the other side. Even then he looked like a civil war Cavalier, but a library book later confirmed it for me.

He looked back at me briefly, and something about that look terrified me. I ran screaming back into the castle and scared my poor mother witless. I told her what I’d seen, and she reassured me that there was probably some kind re-enactment taking place. But when we recounted it to the lady in the shop, she told us that nothing was going on that day.

“You’ve probably seen one of our ghosts” she said, with a calmness I found even more disturbing.

These days I’m not sure what I saw, but the feeling remains, crystallised as if in an emotional amber.
I’ve never had a similar experience since, but I still, and always will, love castles.

Radical Rhymes is a professional artist working with a range of media – predominantly animal/human portraits and landscapes – including, most recently, hand painted furniture. You can see his work on Instagram Radicalrhymes1969 or on Twitter @RhymesRadical.

For commissions, please contact him on Twitter via Direct Message or by email at: radicalrhymes@outlook.com His work is also available to buy on Etsy