Much as I would like to ticked off every one, there are plenty of castles I’ve never visited and there are some which have nothing left to visit.
Fotheringhay is one such empty space. Famed for its connections to Richard III, who was born there; his parents, buried in the church; and Mary Queen of Scots, executed in its hall, the history of Fotheringhay has much to offer a visitor. Except other than the motte (an artificial hill upon which would have stood the keep) and a bit of wall, there isn’t much to see.
Rumour has it Mary’s son, James I, razed it to the ground in retaliation. More likely, like so many castles post-Medieval period, it was a great source of building material.
Terence the stonemason made one last trip
to the ruin upon the hill
with hammer and axe
he hunted for stone
As he helped himself to whatever was there.
He chipped and dragged,
block after block, while from on high
rubble fell down, missing his crown
he filled his barrow with whatever was there
his missus had fretted
during dawn’s early chorus
You’ll bring us trouble
but Terence had rubbed his rough hands together
and told her it was fair
what once was majestic
was naught but theirs