From Humble Beginnings to Grand Ambitions

Raglan Castle stands as one of Britain’s most magnificent medieval ruins, its weathered stones whispering tales of former glory in the Welsh countryside. Unlike many castles that faded into obscurity, Raglan’s story is intertwined with England’s most turbulent century—the 1600s, when civil war tore the nation apart.

The castle’s origins trace back to the 15th century, built by William ap Thomas, a Welsh knight who fought alongside Henry V at Agincourt. His son, William Herbert, expanded it into a grand French-style fortress with hexagonal towers, a moat, and its most distinctive feature—the mighty Yellow Tower of Gwent. Rising over 100 feet with walls 10 feet thick, this isolated great tower dominated the landscape, symbolizing the Herbert family’s rising power.

A Palace Disguised as a Fortress

By the Tudor era, Raglan had transformed from a military stronghold into a luxurious residence. The Somerset family, who inherited it, added Renaissance touches: expansive windows flooded the once-dark halls with light, while a 126-foot-long gallery—a status symbol among Elizabethan nobility—allowed leisurely strolls with views of the Black Mountains.

Yet these renovations came at a cost. The castle’s defensive capabilities were weakened just as England descended into civil war. When conflict erupted in 1642 between King Charles I and Parliament, Raglan’s owner—Henry Somerset, the 5th Earl of Worcester—found his lavish home on the front lines.

The Siege That Shook a Nation

In 1646, Raglan became one of the last royalist strongholds. Parliament’s New Model Army, armed with cutting-edge mortar cannons like “Roaring Meg” (capable of firing 200-pound explosive shells), laid siege for ten grueling weeks. The earl, then in his 60s, defiantly held out despite:

– Daily cannon barrages (60+ rounds per day)
– A near-fatal musket shot to his head
– The destruction of his prized gardens and orchards

The castle’s medieval walls withstood the bombardment, but its fate was sealed when royalist hopes collapsed after Charles I’s surrender. Facing annihilation from Parliament’s mortars, the earl negotiated terms in August 1646.

A Revolutionary Destruction

The Parliamentarians didn’t just capture Raglan—they systematically destroyed it as revenge against royalist defiance. Soldiers:

– Dismantled the Yellow Tower by burning its wooden supports
– Looted every valuable fixture, from stained glass to fireplaces
– Deliberately burned one of Europe’s finest private libraries
– Drained the moat and slaughtered its prized carp

This wasn’t mere demolition; it was a political statement. As historian Marc Morris notes, “By toppling noble walls, the revolutionary government visually demonstrated that no individual could challenge state authority.”

Legacy in Ruins

The castle’s fate mirrored England’s transformation. After the monarchy’s restoration in 1660, the Somersets built a new Palladian mansion at Badminton, abandoning castles as relics of a bygone age. Raglan’s ruins became a quarry for locals until the 19th century, when Romanticism revived interest in medieval heritage.

Today, its broken towers stand as poignant reminders of:
– The deadly evolution of siege warfare (from arrows to explosive shells)
– How architectural symbols of power become casualties of revolution
– The fleeting nature of political fortunes during England’s bloodiest century

As historian Dan Jones observes, “Raglan’s stones tell two stories: one of ambition built over generations, the other of destruction wrought in months. Few ruins so perfectly encapsulate the rise and fall of an era.”

The castle’s final tragedy? Its loyal defender never saw the aftermath. The elderly Earl of Worcester died months after surrendering, lamenting: “They call it mercy when they seize my home—if this is mercy, what then is cruelty?” His words echo through Raglan’s empty halls, where ivy now climbs walls that once defied an army.