Snippets

Pillars of Shame!

A/N: Broughton Castle lies in the village of Broughton to the south of Banbury in Oxfordshire. The castle and its extensive grounds are open to the public. The present Lord of Saye and Sele is most welcoming. It is known in folklore that his ancestor, the eighth Lord, held such a meeting  as described below with its fearsome consequences of Civil War and Regicide.

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Pillars of Shame:

The room stands tucked away at the highest part of the castle on the western side.

The only approach is by way of a spiral flight of stone stairs that lead only to this room.

I climbed those stairs and felt the room’s presence before I reached its doorway. A heavy sense of history and of sadness exuded from this place. In the lofty reach of this magnificent building this isolated room stands under its pillars of shame. Two tall chimneys perched one on each of the roof gables. 

The room provides a plain and rather small space, its furnishings simple and heavily constructed in oak. Nevertheless a bright and airy space lighted by windows on three sides that look out onto the meadows and woods of the estate.

A space in which children might have played out their joyful games in the long summer holidays when home from school.

Its plain walls did not reflect old joys and gaiety to me that day. The room wanted its visitor to be reminded of the darker events that took place within. Even now that three centuries have passed the room remains sombre; scarred by the evils of treachery and sedition.

In Broughton Castle the eighth Lord of Saye and Sele entertained the enemies of the king. 

Charles 1st was unpopular in the realm for advancing Catholicism and for ruling without regard for Parliament. The Lord of this castle, together with Pym, Hampden, Brook and others might have had another score to settle with him. The king had refused to grant them a monopoly for their trading and slaving concerns.

To this castle they came together to bemoan their lot and plot their recovery.

In the secrecy of this little room high on the western side, its location protecting them from being overheard, they spun their web of treason.

In this unlikely place, looking down onto the peaceful setting of the walled gardens, their breast works coated blue with wisteria; history changed.

The words spoken here led to eight bloody years of turmoil and civil war. They brought times when the nation clove into two warring factions when, at its worst, father’s fought sons for opposing causes. A war fought bitterly to its ghastly end on Horseguards Parade in 1649.

The king met his fate on the scaffold watched by those who plotted against him. They were traitors no longer, but heroes of the new republic, for their side won the conflict. The words of these men lay embedded in the walls of this room. The words that made forfeit the blood of their king. They hide the laughter of more treasured moments when happiness might have prevailed. The room holds its secret for eternity. 

The room stands high in the present calm of the castle beneath its twin chimneys – its pillars of shame.