Towering 300 ft above the town of Wernigerode in the Harz Mountains of Saxony-Anhalt, Germany, stands a romantic baroque castle that was once a medieval fortress.
Originally built as a Romanesque hunting lodge for 12th-century German counts, its tumultuous history included several rebuilds in completely new architectural styles.
Evolving from Romanesque, the Gothic style appeared during the 14th century and can be seen depicted in the large arched windows.
Strolling around the castle ramparts reveals stunning vistas over Wernigerode town.
Morphing into a Renaissance fortress in the 1500s, Wernigerode Castle was heavily damaged during the Thirty Years’ War of the 17th century.
One of the longest and most destructive conflicts in human history, the Thirty Years’ War was the deadliest European religious war, resulting in eight million fatalities.
Devastating entire regions, the war spread famine and disease, imposed severe hardships on the inhabitants of occupied territories, and bankrupted most of the combatant powers.
Despite several renovations and later additions, mostly between 1862 and 1893, Wernigerode Castle retains its original medieval gothic tower and spiral stone staircase.
Renowned Vienna architect Friedrich von Schmidt built the chapel inside of Wernigerode Castle in 1880.
Wernigerode Castle’s rooms feature ornate chandeliers, wood carvings, and tapestries.
Adorning the marketplace are colorful medieval buildings, including the town hall with timber face dating from 1498.
Please beware of the dragon—he may be only a puppy, but he can get a bit playful at times.
Oh, and don’t mind the wild boar, his squeal is worse than his bite.
Linking the little towns and villages in the Harz mountains is a steam railway.
Dense forests of oak, beech, and spruce with deep gorges and sheer cliffs characterize the dramatic landscape of the Harz Mountains.
Whatever the season, Wernigerode Castle is sure to surprise and delight history buffs and fantasy fans alike.
Born in Nymphenburg Palace—the “Castle of the Nymphs”—in Munich, Bavaria, and growing up in the Gothic Revival fantasy castle of Hohenschwangau in the Bavarian Alps, is it any wonder that the creator of Neuschwanstein Castle—King Ludwig II—was prone to day-dreaming?
All around him was picture perfect scenery—glistening lakes, snow-capped mountains, and deep alpine forests.
And he was immersed in a medieval tribute to Bavarian heraldry—particularly the legend of the Knight of the Swan.
The swan looms large in Bavarian folklore. Hohenschwangau means “Upper Swan District”.
Celebrated in the medieval German romance “Parzival” and later in the operas Lohengrin and Parsifal by Richard Wagner, the Knight of the Swan is a medieval tale about a mysterious rescuer who comes in a swan-drawn boat to defend a damsel, his only condition being that he must never be asked his name.
This was the stuff to set a young man’s imagination alight and to dare to dream of building the most beautiful castle in the world—Neuschwanstein.
All it would take was money and time.
Join us as we explore the beauty and history of Neuschwanstein Castle.
Press play button to add musical atmosphere to your journey.
Our story begins in 1864 when the 18-year-old Ludwig II succeeded his father, King Maximilian II, to the throne of Bavaria.
Ludwig did what all kings do and set about planning an ambitious series of palaces and castles.
But Ludwig was different. He was a dreamer with a big imagination.
The inspiration for the construction of Neuschwanstein came from two journeys he took in 1867 — one in May to the reconstructed Wartburg Castle in Germany, another in July to the Château de Pierrefonds in France.
Neuschwanstein can be said to be a combination of these two styles—the Romanesque Palas (the main building housing the great hall) and tower of Wartburg and the numerous ornamental turrets of Pierrefonds.
As an adolescent, Ludwig and his friend read poetry aloud and staged scenes from the Romantic operas of Richard Wagner, which appealed to his fantasy-filled imagination.
He commissioned stage designer Christian Jank to create concepts for Neuschwanstein because Jank had worked on scenery for Richard Wagner’s opera Lohengrin.
Employing about 200 craftsmen, Neuschwanstein’s construction site was the biggest employer in the region for two decades.
Built in the 1860s, Marienbrücke (Mary’s Bridge) is a bridge overlooking Neuschwanstein Castle.
Popular with tourists as a good vantage point for photographs, the bridge spans a large gorge with a waterfall beneath.
The western Palas supports a two-storey balcony with a view on the Alpsee lake.
The entire Palas is spangled with numerous decorative chimneys and ornamental turrets, the court front with colourful frescos.
Fitted with several of the latest 19th-century innovations, the palace had a battery-powered bell system for the servants, telephone lines, hot-air central heating, running warm water, and automatic flush toilets.
The Throne Hall occupies the third and fourth floors and is surrounded by colorful arcades, with paintings of Jesus, the Twelve Apostles, and six canonized kings.
Ludwig’s imagination paid off: Neuschwanstein is magical from any angle and in any season.
His architectural and artistic legacy includes many of Bavaria’s most important tourist attractions.
Even more ambitious than Neuschwanstein was another fairy tale castle planned to replace the ruins of Falkenstein Castle in Pfronten, Bavaria.
But work on Falkenstein never got underway because, by the 1880s, Ludwig’s debt had skyrocketed to 14 million marks.
With no end in sight to his extravagant building projects, the Bavarian government decided to act.
In June of 1886, King Ludwig II was deposed on the grounds of mental illness.
Taken to Berg Castle on the shores of Lake Starnberg, south of Munich, Ludwig took an evening stroll along the lake shore with his personal physician, Bernhard von Gudden.
Allegedly drowned, and possibly murdered, both were found dead that same night.
To this day the details of their deaths remain a mystery.
Only the swans and time know the real story, and they promised to keep it quiet.
Ludwig’s dream lives on, not only in Bavaria but all around the world thanks to Walt Disney’s Sleeping Beauty Castle which took its inspiration from Neuschwanstein.
Rising majestically above the trees, deep in the center of the Netherlands, the towers of Castle de Haar glisten in the morning sunlight.
This is no ordinary castle.
It is the largest in the Netherlands, and one of the most luxurious in Europe.
From Humble Beginnings
To go from this, in 1892 …
… to this, in 1912 …
… requiredbig money. Rothschild money.
In 1391, the family De Haar was granted rights to the original castle and surrounding lands that existed on the same site as the current castle.
Changing hands to the Van Zuylen family in 1440, then burned down and rebuilt in the early 1500s, the castle had fallen into ruins by the late 17th century.
Eventually, De Haar was inherited by Etienne Gustave Frédéric Baron van Zuylen van Nyevelt van de Haar.
Try saying that with a mouthful of Edam.
Etienne married Baroness Hélène de Rothschild in 1887—and the money connection was forged.
Restoration on a Grand Scale
20-years of restoration has created one of the world’s most beautiful and romantic castles.
Fully financed by Hélène’s family, the Rothschilds, the famous Dutch architect Pierre Cuypers set about building 200 rooms and 30 bathrooms.
Well, you never know when you’ve got to go, do you?
Installing all the mod-cons of the late Victorian and Edwardian Eras, the castle had electrical lighting running off its own generator and steam-based central heating.
A large collection of copper pots and pans adorns the kitchen that was very modern for its day, having a 20 ft-long furnace heated with either coal or peat.
Decorated with fine detail throughout, the kitchen tiles have the coat of arms of both the De Haar and Van Zuylen families.
Richly ornamented woodcarving reminiscent of a Roman Catholic church adorns the interior along with old Flemish tapestries and paintings.
Formal Gardens
Reminiscent of the French gardens of Versailles, the surrounding park contains many waterworks and 7000 trees.
Elf Fantasy Fair
Attracting some 22,500 visitors every year, the Elf Fantasy Fair held in April at Castle de Haar is the largest fantasy event in Europe.
Next to fantasy, there are also themes from science fiction, gothic, manga, cosplay and historical reenactment genres.
Click to show Google Street View of Castle de Haar
Flanked and backed by majestic fir trees, Peleș Castle, sits atop a rise in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains near Sinaia, Romania.
Never intended as a fortress, it is a lavishly furnished and decorated 170-room palace, with 30 bathrooms covering 34,000 sq ft.
Inspired by Schloss Neuschwanstein in Bavaria, Peleş Castle is a romantic blend of Neo-Renaissance and Gothic Revival styles.
Constructed between 1873 and 1883 at a cost of 16 million gold Romanian coins (~$120 million today), major improvements continued until 1914.
Housing one of the finest collections of art in Eastern and Central Europe, consisting of statues, paintings, furniture, arms and armor, gold, silver, stained glass, ivory, fine china, tapestries, and rugs, it spans over four centuries of history.
The collection of arms and armor has over 4,000 pieces, divided between Eastern and Western war pieces and ceremonial or hunting pieces.
Peleş Castle interior. Credit Diana Popescu
Commissioned by King Carol I of Romania, his towering statue by Raffaello Romanelli overlooks the main entrance of Peleş Castle.
When King Carol I was walking in the Carpathian Mountains of Sinaia in 1866, he came across the site of the future castle and fell in love with the scenery.
He commissioned a royal summer retreat and hunting preserve together with several other buildings and a power plant.
Peleș was the world’s first castle fully powered by locally produced electricity.
Peleș Castle was a truly European collaboration.
While Europe’s leaders eyed each other with suspicion and readied for war, ordinary workers from diversely different backgrounds worked together to build their palaces.
Elisabeth of Wied, the Queen of Romania, noted in her diary:
Statues by the Italian sculptor Romanelli, mostly of Carrara marble, adorn the seven Italian neo-Renaissance terrace gardens.
Guarding lions, fountains, urns, stairways, marble paths, and other decorative pieces grace the gardens.
Visiting in 1896, Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria-Hungary wrote:
Accomplished as a writer under the nom de plume Carmen Sylva, Queen Elisabeth of Romania wrote poems, plays, novels, and short stories in German, Romanian, French and English.
Considered a dreamer and eccentric, she was once a favorite of Queen Victoria as a prospective bride for her son, the future Edward VII.
Said to be unmoved by her pictures, Edward chose Alexandra of Denmark instead.
Prince Carol of Romania first noticed Elisabeth in Berlin in 1861 and the two were married 8 years later in her hometown of Neuwied, in the German state of Rhineland-Palatinate.
They had one daughter who tragically died at age three. Elisabeth never got over it.
Failing to produce a male heir, the couple became estranged and King Carol adopted his nephew, and successor, Ferdinand.
Queen Elisabeth encouraged a love affair between Ferdinand and one of her ladies in waiting, Elena Văcărescu.
Doomed from the start, a marriage between Ferdinand and Elena would have been forbidden by the Romanian constitution.
Elisabeth and Elena were exiled while Ferdinand was introduced to a granddaughter of Queen Victoria, his distant cousin Princess Marie of Edinburgh.
Married in January 1893, and with the birth of their son at Peleş Castle in October of that same year, Ferdinand and Marie would give meaning to the phrase “cradle of the dynasty, cradle of the nation” that the king had bestowed upon the castle.
The infant Carol would later become King Carol II of Romania and grow up under the thumb of his domineering great-uncle King Carol I.
In the early 20th century, Romania had a famously relaxed “Latin” sexual morality and Princess Marie pursued a series of love affairs.
Shy and weak, Ferdinand was easily overshadowed by the charismatic Marie, but fiercely resented being cuckolded.
Feeling that Marie was unqualified to raise the young Prince Carol, the stern King took him under his wing and thoroughly spoiled him.
Regarding the king as a cold, overbearing tyrant, Marie worried that he would crush her son’s spirit.
But life wasn’t so bad for Ferdinand and Marie.
Commissioned by the King and built within the same complex as Peleş Castle, the Art Nouveau style Pelișor Castle became their new home.
An accomplished artist herself, Marie made many interior design decisions for Pelișor and considered Art Nouveau an antidote to sterile historicism.
Creating her own personal style, she combined Art Nouveau with elements from Byzantine and Celtic art.
As if foretelling the future, Queen Elisabeth held the private opinion that a Republican form of government was preferable to monarchy, writing in her journal:
But for these “little people”, Romania’s transition away from monarchy was neither rational nor romantic.
With the monarchy abolished in 1947, Romania fell under the iron grip of Communism and the castle complex became first a place of recreation for Romanian dignitaries, then a museum, and finally closed for most of dictator Nicolae Ceauşescu’s regime.
It wasn’t until 2006 that the legal ownership of the palace complex, including Pelișor, was returned to the heirs of the Romanian royal family.
At 95, King Michael I of Romania, the last surviving head of state from World War II, wishes Pelișor castle remain a home for his heirs.
The year was 1871. Wealthy financier and Member of Parliament Mitchell Henry (1826 – 1910) was standing with his wife on the shores of a lake in County Galway, Ireland, admiring their new fairytale castle.
It had taken one hundred men four years to complete. But gazing across the lake at the castle’s reflection in the still waters, the couple knew it was worth the wait.
The fairytale dream
Their dream had been forged 16 years earlier when they honeymooned at this exact spot. Renting Kylemore Lodge, the Henrys had fallen in love with the bewitching beauty of the landscape.
Inheriting a sizeable fortune from his father, a wealthy cotton merchant from Manchester, England, no expense had been spared. Covering 40,000 square feet, with seventy rooms and made from granite shipped in by sea from Dalkey and limestone from Ballinasloe, it had cost £18,000 to build (about $3 million today).
But Mitchell Henry’s dream was bigger than Kylemore Castle. He gave up his career as a medical doctor to take over the family business and entered politics as Member of Parliament for Galway County.
With much of Ireland still recovering from the Great Irish Famine of 1845-52, Henry wanted to help the local community by providing work, shelter and a school. He drained thousands of acres of waste marshland, turning it into the productive Kylemore Estate and providing material and social benefits to the entire region.
Victorian Walled Gardens
Included as part of the Kylemore Estate were large, walled Victorian Gardens, with 21 heated glass houses and a 60-foot banana house, growing exotic fruit and vegetables of all kinds.
Tragedy strikes
Just four short years later, Henry’s wife Margaret suddenly died from a fever contracted in Egypt.
Overwhelmed by grief, he built a beautiful memorial church on the shore of the lake about a mile from the castle, where Margaret was laid to rest and where he would eventually join her.
Built from Caen sandstone with internal columns of green Connemara marble, the church is a scaled-down replica of the neo-Gothic Bristol Cathedral.
The Duke and Duchess of Manchester
What does an English Duke do when he finally runs out of money and cannot repay his gambling debts? Why, he elopes with an American heiress and escapes to a castle on a lake in Ireland.
Such was the next chapter in the story of Kylemore.
In 1903, Mitchell Henry sold Kylemore to William Angus Drogo Montague, 9th Duke of Manchester. A notorious spendthrift, Manchester succeeded his father in the Dukedom at the age of fifteen.
His excessive spending and gambling drained the family fortune, but as luck would have it, he met Helena Zimmerman, daughter of Eugene Zimmerman, a railroad magnate and major stockholder in Standard Oil.
Much to the chagrin of the locals, the Duke and Duchess were far more concerned with lavishly entertaining guests than they were in managing the estate.
While the Duke was away in Europe and America, often as a paid guest of wealthy Americans like media mogul Randolph Hearst, the Duchess was seen speeding along country lanes in her Daimler motor car—quite the site in 1900s Connemara!
Some say the Duke lost Kylemore in a late night of gambling at the castle, but one thing for certain is that after Eugene Zimmerman died, the money to fund a life of partying dried up, and the Duke and Duchess were forced to sell.
A sanctuary from war-torn Europe
Kylemore Castle’s next owners were a group of Benedictine nuns from Belgium who had fled the horrors of World War One.
Before the war, the nun’s home town of Ypres, with its 20,000 inhabitants, engaged in nothing more than the peaceful pursuit of making Valenciennes lace.
Then the war arrived on their doorstep.
The ravages of the First World War turned one of Belgium’s most beautiful and historic cities into nothing more than a ghostly shell of its former glory.
Escaping the devastation of their beloved Ypres—their home base for three hundred and forty years—the nuns settled into Kylemore Castle in 1920 and converted it into the working Kylemore Abbey.
Restoring the Kylemore Abbey’s Victorian gardens and neo-gothic church have been major projects aided by donations and the work of local artisans.
Kylemore Abbey continues to be a self-sustaining working monastery and the Victorian gardens are open to the public.
Mitchell and Margaret Henry can rest at peace knowing their dream castle is in safe hands.
Unspoiled beaches, enchanting seaside villages, and idyllic countryside make Cornwall a special place to live and visit.
Home of the TV sitcom “Doc Martin”, set in Port Isaac, Cornwall’s wild and rugged beauty, down to earth people, and mild climate make it the perennial favorite getaway for Britons.
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An awful lot of people have childhood memories of holidays in Cornwall, and the holidays are old-fashioned and hugely successful. You stick a child and a dog on one of the beaches, and they just light up; they just love it.Martin Clunes (Doc Martin)
Cornwall stretches its rocky fingers into the Atlantic, cloaked in the whispers of myth and the roar of crashing waves.
The legendary birthplace of King Arthur, shrouded in the ruins of Tintagel Castle, whispers tales of chivalry and magic amidst its windswept cliffs.
But Cornwall’s allure goes beyond Arthurian echoes; it’s a symphony of golden beaches, rugged moorlands, and quaint fishing villages, all painted with the salty brushstrokes of the sea.
Here, surfers dance with rolling waves, foodies savor melt-in-your-mouth pasties, and nature lovers trek through emerald valleys dappled with ancient magic.
From the biodomes of the Eden Project to the tidal island majesty of St Michael’s Mount, Cornwall is a vibrant tapestry woven with breathtaking landscapes, rich history, and the promise of endless adventure.
For centuries, Cornwall has fired the imagination of writers and artists. Now it’s your turn to be inspired by 40 beautiful images from 1895.
The medieval walled city of Carcassonne sits in the luscious valley of the Aude river—the gap between the Pyrenees and the Massif Central.
Slate roofs glint in the sun atop 13th-century towers that dominate the horizon.
Surrounded by mountains and vineyards, the scent of pine shrubs, spicy herbs, and sweet flowers is carried on the cool winds. Known as the garrigue (gah-REEG), it is the signature scent of the south of France.
Here are 10 amazing facts about this medieval wonder that you might not know.
1. The walls of the city are 1.9 miles (3 km) long
2. The city walls have 52 massive towers
The fortified city has a concentric design having two outer walls with 52 towers and barbicans, designed to prevent attack by siege engines.
3. A Roman tower housed the Medieval Inquisition
The shallow-pitch terracotta tile roofs and red brick layers identify these towers as Roman, one of which is called “The Inquisition Tower”.
The Medieval Inquisition’s purpose was to root out and prevent the spread of Cathars and Waldensians—followers of religious movements that were denounced by the Catholic Church.
Extracts from a letter written around 1285 by the Consuls of Carcassonne to Jean Galand, a Dominican Inquisitor at Carcassonne, describe what conditions were like in the Inquisition Tower:
… you have created a prison called “The Wall”, which would be better called “Hell”. In it you have constructed small cells to inflict pain and to mistreat people using various types of torture. Some prisoners remain in fetters … and are unable to move. They excrete and urinate where they are … Some are placed on the chevelet ; many of them have lost the use of their limbs because of the severity of the torture … Life for them is an agony, and death a relief. Under these constraints they affirm as true what is false, preferring to die once than to be thus tortured multiple times.
4. Carcassonne was the first fortress to use hoardings in times of siege
Overhanging wooden ramparts attached to the upper walls of the fortress provided protection to defenders on the wall and allowed them to shoot arrows or drop projectiles on attackers beneath.
5. Edward the Black Prince failed to take the city during the Hundred Years’ War
During the 1355 Great Raid by the English in the Aquitaine–Languedoc region, Edward “the Black Prince” crippled southern France’s economy through the practice of chevauchée. This involved burning and pillaging enemy territory to reduce the region’s productivity.
When the Black Prince passed through Carcassonne, his army razed the Lower Town, but couldn’t take the extremely well defended walled city.
Carcassone’s position as a key defensive fortification on the border with Spain remained until the Treaty of the Pyrenees was signed, which effectively pushed the border further south—diminishing Carcassone’s strategic importance.
6. In 1849, the City of Carcassonne was nearly demolished
Not the news this Carcassonne gargoyle wanted to hear.
Carcassonne was struck off the roster of official fortifications under Napoleon and the Restoration.
It fell into such disrepair that the French government decided that it should be demolished, causing an uproar among local citizens.
Mayor of Carcassonne, Jean-Pierre Cros-Mayrevieille, and writer Prosper Mérimée, inspector of ancient monuments, led a successful campaign to preserve the walled city.
The architect Eugène Viollet-le-Duc was commissioned to renovate the entire city.
7. The French poet Gustave Nadaud made Carcassonne famous
He wrote a poem about the lament of a peasant man who dreamed of seeing Carcassonne before he died, but was never able to visit. His poem inspired many others and was translated into English several times.
8. In 1898, Pope Leo XIII upgraded Carcassonne’s Gothic Church to a Basilica
The minor Basilica is entirely inside the city walls. Famed for its stained glass windows—some of the oldest in the south of France—the Basilica of Saints Nazarius and Celsus is a national monument.
9. The city was named after a fairy-tale princess
In the 8th century, Carcassonne was under Saracen rule and besieged by Charlemagne’s army. Lady Carcas, a Saracen princess, fed a pig with wheat and threw it from the city walls, fooling Charlemagne into thinking the city had abundant food. Charlemagne lifted the siege, and in celebration, Lady Carcas rang the city bells. Thus, the city was named Carcassonne, meaning “Carcas rings.”
Although Lady Carcas is fictional, such oral traditions were commonplace in the 12th century and perpetuated in writing in later centuries. Similar legends link a number of historical characters in other times and places with similar ruses.
10. Carcassonne vies with Mont St Michel for the title of most visited monument in France
The citadel was restored at the end of the 19th century and in 1997 it was added to UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Sites.
Stand on the banks of the River Conwy at night and gaze across at the floodlit Conwy Castle, its eight majestic towers rising to the heavens out of solid rock, and you get the measure of the man that was King Edward I (1239–1307).
At 6ft 2in tall, Edward towered above his contemporaries. A man to be feared, who could intimidate, but a man who earned respect as a warrior, an administrator, and a man of faith.
Nicknamed “longshanks”, meaning “long legs” or “long shins”, some historians believe his height and long limbs gave him an advantage in battle—all the better for wielding the sword.
Edward is an Anglo-Saxon name, which was unusual for a Norman aristocrat. His father, Henry III, chose the name in honor of Saint Edward the Confessor, one of the last Anglo-Saxon kings, and the only king of England to be canonized.
Could this connection with an Anglo-Saxon saint have given Edward the courage to do what none of his predecessors had been able to do: Conquer Wales?
Edward was no stranger to courage. In the Second Barons’ War (1264–1267)—a civil war between the King and several barons led by Simon de Montfort—Edward fought alongside his father and routed part of the baronial army with a cavalry charge. But he let ego get the better of him—chasing the enemy as they scattered, and leaving King Henry’s center exposed. Edward tasted defeat and was taken hostage.
A year later, in a daring plan demanding skill and bravery, Edward escaped and joined forces allied to the Crown.
He faced Simon de Montfort again on the battlefield—at the Battle of Evesham. This time, Edward’s much larger army massacred the rebellious barons, leaving Montfort’s body horribly mutilated.
As if that wasn’t enough excitement for the 24-year-old Edward, once the baron’s rebellion was completely put down and England pacified, he went on a crusade to the Holy Land.
The Ninth Crusade was the last major medieval Crusade, and overall enthusiasm for the cause was waning. Despite some impressive early victories, an epidemic, a devastating storm, and a series of failed raids caused the crusaders to withdraw, with little to show for their efforts.
Although Edward wanted to continue fighting, an assassination attempt left him weakened from a poisoned wound. When he received news of his father’s death and his own accession to the throne of England, he began the return journey—taking two whole years.
When Edward was back on English soil, trouble started brewing between the Marcher Lords (nobles guarding the English-Welsh border) and an increasingly powerful prince of Wales—Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, who refused to pay homage to Edward and was even planning to marry the daughter of Edward’s old enemy, Simon de Montfort.
Edward declared war and invaded Wales with a large army, forcing Llywelyn to surrender and stripping him of all Welsh lands, but for the far northwest corner—Gwynedd.
Within eight years, the Welsh rose up against Edward. This time, Welsh forces made good early progress with victories at the Battle of Llandeilo Fawr and the Battle of Moel-y-don. But their luck didn’t hold. Edward prevailed and his conquest of Wales was complete.
The Iron Ring
To prevent further Welsh uprisings, Edward started building massive stone fortifications known as the Iron Ring—the most ambitious project of its kind in Europe. Some castles had been built by his father, which he strengthened, but his focus was building huge new fortifications in Gwynedd.
The Castles and Town Walls of King Edward in Gwynedd, North Wales is a UNESCO-designated World Heritage Site, which includes the castles and town walls of Caernarfon and Conwy, and the castles of Harlech and Beaumaris.
UNESCO considers the sites to be the “finest examples of late 13th-century and early 14th-century military architecture in Europe. Contains affiliate links
Press play to add atmosphere as we journey back in time to Wales circa 1283.
Caernarfon Castle
Built to showcase Edward’s power, Caernarfon was more palace than castle—an administrative center fit for a king.
The polygonal towers and banded colored stone give it a unique appearance compared with Edward’s other castles.
Legend holds that when Roman Emperor Magnus Maximus was out hunting one day, he rested under a tree and fell asleep. He had a dream of a fort, “the fairest that man ever saw”, at the mouth of a river in a mountainous country.
Nearby Caernarfon, a Roman fort called Segontium once stood. Edward believed it was the castle in Maximus’s dream and decided to build the fairest castle that man ever saw at the mouth of the River Seiont in the mountainous country of Wales. Caernarfon Castle is born of a dream.
Conwy Castle
Defended by eight towers and two barbicans, Conwy Castle sits on a coastal ridge overlooking the estuary of the River Conwy.
The castle would originally have been white-washed using a lime render. What a sight that must have been on a sunny day—a white castle shimmering in the sunlight.
Visitors entered through a barbican, complete with drawbridge and portcullis. Conwy has the oldest stone machicolations in Britain—openings through which stones, or other objects, could be dropped on attackers.
Both Caernarfon and Conwy have walled towns adjacent to the castle. This meant that the town and castle were mutually dependent on each other—the castle giving protection and the town providing trade.
Harlech Castle
Harlech Castle is built high on a rocky outcrop with a commanding view of the Irish Sea and surrounding countryside.
Its concentric design features a massive gatehouse that is thought to have provided accommodations for high-ranking visitors.
Housed within an inner wall were a great hall, chapel, granary, bakehouse and small hall.
In the 13th century, the sea came much further inland to the outer wall, which ran around the base of the outcrop, allowing the castle to be resupplied by boat during a siege.
Beaumaris Castle
Setting Beaumaris apart from the other castles in the UNESCO-designated Iron Ring is its location on the Isle of Anglesey as opposed to mainland Wales.
Distinguished medieval historian Dr Arnold Joseph Taylor CBE, called Beaumaris the “most perfect example of symmetrical concentric planning” in Britain.
The massive fortifications include an outer ward (a courtyard encircled by a wall) with twelve towers and two gatehouses, protecting an inner ward with six massive towers and two enormous gatehouses.
Like Harlech, Beaumaris could also be supplied by sea in the event of a siege.
The Prince of Wales
In 1284, a baby boy was born in Caernarfon Castle—the future King Edward II.
In hopes that it would help pacify Wales, Edward I bestowed on his son the title “Prince of Wales”. As a 16th-century clergyman put it,
borne in Wales and could speake never a word of English.
To this day, the heir to the throne is titled “Prince of Wales”.
Sources
Wikipedia Prestwich, Michael (2010), Edward I and Wales. Maddicott, John (1994), Simon de Montfort. Wheatley, Abigail (2010), Caernarfon Castle and its Mythology. Powicke, F. M. (1962), The Thirteenth Century, 1216–1307. Ashbee, Jeremy (2007), Conwy Castle. Brooks, Richard (2015), Lewes and Evesham 1264-65; Simon de Montford and the Barons’ War. Taylor, Arnold (2004) [1980], Beaumaris Castle (5th ed.) cadw.gov.wales
Before there was the motorcar, Victorians traveled to see castles by train and horse-drawn carriage.
There was no jostling for a parking space, no parking tickets or parking meters to worry about, no traffic noise. Just history, and the sound of the wind.
It must have been quite something.
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Listen to “Fivos Valachis” as you scroll through a wonderland of castles from a bygone time.
Within a single generation, the Victorians built a vast railway network connecting nearly every town in Scotland.
Imagine a Scotland shrouded in mist, the only sounds the mournful cry of bagpipes and the rhythmic clop of hooves on cobbled streets. That was the reality before the industrial age dawned, before the Victorians, fueled by ambition and innovation, weaved a web of steel across the rugged landscape.
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The late 19th century saw Scotland transformed by the railway revolution, its isolated towns and cities tethered by tracks that snaked through valleys and soared over viaducts.
It wasn’t a simple feat. Mountains had to be pierced with tunnels, rivers bridged with daring structures, and the very land wrestled into submission. The Highland Railway, a 442-mile behemoth, carved its path through the granite spine of the north, defying blizzards and treacherous terrain. Steam-powered locomotives, marvels of engineering in themselves, snorted and puffed, conquering gradients that would make a mountain goat wince.
This wasn’t just about connecting dots on a map. The railways were arteries, pumping life into the Scottish economy. Coal from the Lowlands found its way to hungry furnaces in Glasgow and beyond, while the bounty of the Highlands – fish, grain, and the famed Blackface sheep – reached markets far beyond the reach of horse and cart. Tourism, too, blossomed. Victorian gentlemen seeking a touch of the wild could now whisk themselves north in luxurious carriages, gazing at the brooding beauty of Loch Ness from the comfort of their seats.
But the impact wasn’t just economic. The railways shrunk Scotland, bringing communities closer. Highlanders who had known only their glens could now rub shoulders with city dwellers, exchanging stories and cultures over steaming cups of tea. News and ideas travelled at the speed of steam, accelerating a sense of national identity. Children from remote villages could attend universities in faraway cities, dreams no longer shackled by geography.
The railway age wasn’t all sunshine and iron bridges. Environmental scars were left, communities disrupted, and lives lost in construction accidents. Yet, the sheer audacity of the endeavor, the way it reshaped Scotland both physically and socially, leaves an undeniable mark. Today, those Victorian iron veins, still humming with trains, stand as a testament to the spirit of a bygone era, a reminder that even the most rugged landscapes can be tamed by the relentless march of progress.
Relax and soak up the magic of this enchanting country of castles, lochs, and gothic cities.
Listen to this 19th-century Scottish ballad called “Time Wears Awa” by Thomas Elliot as you meander through these beautiful colorized images from the 1890s.
Time wears away error and polishes truth in this thought-provoking song of love and growing old together.
The word toilet derives from the French word toile, meaning a “cloth” (toilette is a “small cloth”), that was draped over a lady or gentleman’s shoulders for hairdressing. Its use was extended to the whole process of hair and body care that centered around a dressing table with mirror, brushes, powder and make-up, during which close friends or tradesmen were often received.
The English poem The Rape of the Lock (1717) by Alexander Pope satirizes the intricacies of a lady’s toilet as she carefully prepares herself for a gala social gathering
From each she nicely culls with curious toil, And decks the Goddess with the glitt’ring spoil. This casket India’s glowing gems unlocks, And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.
Are You Sitting Comfortably?
Around 4500 years ago, communities in Scotland, the Indus Valley (present day Pakistan), and Mesopotamia used pipes to carry waste from inside of buildings to outdoors.
Toilets in Egypt used a keyhole shape to increase comfort, whilst the Romans built sewer systems to carry waste into streams and rivers.
Flushing first appeared in Knossos, on the island of Crete about 4000 years ago. Rainwater captured in rooftop pans was used to wash away waste via pipes.
Fortifying Defenses
By the Middle Ages, flushing went out of fashion. In came “garderobes”, which were closets with seats overhanging the castle moat. The waste would slide down the castle walls and hopefully be washed away … eventually. If not, it would certainly help deter invasion!
Garderobe is French for “wardrobe” and also served as a place to temporarily store the coats and other possessions of visitors. According to a description of a garderobe at Donegal Castle, people believed that the smell of ammonia would help keep fleas away.
Watch Out Below!
The British word loo is from the French guardezl’eau, meaning “watch out for the water”. In medieval Europe, people often threw the contents of their chamber pots out the window onto the streets. But being considerate folk, they would warn passersby by yelling “Guardez l’eau!” … at least to those they liked. In England, “Guardez l’eau” became “gardy-loo” and then shortened to “loo”.
Chamber pots could be exquisitely decorated.
Fit For The Queen
Sir John Harington (1561 – 1612) invented Britain’s first flushing toilet. Called the Ajax (“jakes” was an old slang word for toilet), he installed one at his manor in Kelston.
Harington’s design had a flush valve to release water from a tank to empty the bowl. He also gave one to Queen Elizabeth I at Richmond Palace, but it is thought she refused to use it because it was too noisy. The Ajax did not see popularity in England but was adopted in France under the name Angrez.
The term ‘John’ that’s often used in the USA is considered a direct reference to John Harington.
Flushed With Victorian Pride
George Jennings (1810 – 1882), an English sanitation engineer, invented the first public flush toilets.
He installed the “Retiring Rooms” at The Great Exhibition of 1851 in London.
Jenning’s Pedestal Vase won the Gold Medal award at the International Health Exhibition in London, 1884 for its flushing capacity. In a test, its 2 gallon flush washed down:
10 apples of average diameter 1 ¼ inches
1 flat sponge about 4 ½ inches in diameter
plumber’s smudge coated over the pan
4 pieces of paper adhering closely to the soiled surface
The Victorians invented ‘sanitary science’—the study of public health, dirt, and disease—and were obsessed with sewers, sanitation, and cleanliness. Why, then, did Victorian London remain so notoriously filthy? Find out here.
Interested in adding the Victorian touch to your bathroom?
In the Crapper
Returning American World War One veterans used the slang word “crapper” after seeing so many toilets in England wearing the corporate logo “T. Crapper/Chelsea”.
However, the word crap can be traced to an Old Dutch word, krappe, meaning “a vile and inedible fish”.
Toilet Trivia
Toilet Euphemisms
Lavatory, bog, loo, convenience, privy (UK)
Restroom, bathroom, pot, john (US)
Dunny (AU/NZ)
Water closet (W.C.), comfort room (C.R.), powder room
Toilets could be dangerous places
King Edmund II of England was “stabbed from beneath as he answered a call of nature” in 1016.
King George II of Great Britain met his end in the bathroom after breakfast.
Catherine the Great, empress of Russia suffered a fatal stroke on a commode in St Petersburg in 1796.
‘I’m growing old, I’ve sixty years; I’ve labored all my life in vain:
In all that time of hopes and fears
I’ve failed my dearest wish to gain.
I see full well that here below
Bliss unalloyed there is for none.
My prayer will ne’er fulfilment know
I never have seen Carcassonne,
I never have seen Carcassonne!
You see the city from the hill,
It lies beyond the mountains blue,
And yet to reach it one must still
Five long and weary leagues pursue,
And to return as many more!
Ah! had the vintage plenteous grown!
The grape withheld its yellow store!
I shall not look on Carcassonne,
I shall not look on Carcassonne!
‘They tell me every day is there
Not more or less than Sunday gay:
In shining robes and garments fair
The people walk upon their way.
One gazes there on castle walls
As grand as those of Babylon,
A bishop and two generals!
I do not know fair Carcassonne,
I do not know fair Carcassonne!
‘The vicar’s right; he says that we
Are ever wayward, weak and blind,
He tells us in his homily
Ambition ruins all mankind;
Yet could I there two days have spent
While still the autumn sweetly shone,
Ah me! I might have died content
When I had looked on Carcassonne,
When I had looked on Carcassonne!
‘Thy pardon, Father, I beseech,
In this my prayer if I append:
One something sees beyond his reach
From childhood to his journey’s end.
My wife, our little boy Aignon,
Have traveled even to Narbonne;
My grandchild has seen Perpignon,
And I have not seen Carcassonne,
And I have not seen Carcassonne!’
So crooned one day, close by Limoux,
A peasant double-bent with age;
‘Rise up, my friend,’ said I; ‘with you
I’ll go upon this pilgrimage.’
We left next morning his abode,
But (Heaven forgive him) halfway on,
The old man died upon the road;
He never gazed on Carcassonne,
Each mortal has his Carcassonne!