The Great Rebellion of 1173-1174: A Real-Life Succession Drama in Medieval England

Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine's marriage was incredibly stormy

Imagine a family dynasty teetering on the edge of collapse, with power-hungry heirs scheming against their patriarch, alliances crumbling, and betrayal lurking at every turn. Sounds like a gripping episode of the TV show Succession, right? 

Now picture this drama unfolding not in a modern corporate boardroom but in the castles and courts of 12th-century England during the Great Rebellion of 1173-1174. As a historical fiction author researching the period, I was drawn to this real-life saga of ambition, loyalty, and treachery, where King Henry II faced a revolt led by his own sons and wife - a family feud that rivals the Roy family’s cutthroat dynamics. Let’s dive into this medieval power struggle and explore how it mirrors the themes of Succession, all while uncovering a story ripe for historical fiction readers.

What Was the Great Rebellion of 1173-1174?

The Great Rebellion was a dramatic revolt against King Henry II of England, one of the most powerful monarchs of the Middle Ages. Spanning 1173 to 1174 and played out across England, Normandy, Aquitaine and Anjou, it was sparked by Henry’s own family - his wife, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, and their sons Henry the Young King, Richard (later Richard the Lionheart), and Geoffrey. They allied with foreign powers, including the King of France and the King of Scotland, to challenge Henry’s iron grip on his vast empire, which stretched from England to parts of France.

This wasn’t just a political uprising; it was deeply personal. Henry II, like Logan Roy in Succession, was a formidable patriarch whose control over his empire (and family) bred resentment. His sons, eager for power and frustrated by their father’s refusal to share it, turned against him, while Eleanor, a brilliant and ambitious queen, for reasons that will probably never be known, played a pivotal role in orchestrating the rebellion. The result? A war that tested loyalties, reshaped alliances, and left a legacy of betrayal that I will feature in one of my upcoming books. 

The Cast: Henry II’s Family vs. the Roys of Succession

To bring this historical drama to life, let’s meet the key players and their Succession counterparts, highlighting why this story captivates fans of complex family dynamics and political intrigue.

King Henry II: The Logan Roy of Medieval England

Henry II, like Logan Roy, was a shrewd, commanding figure who built an empire through cunning and relentless ambition. His Angevin Empire was a medieval media conglomerate of sorts, spanning England, Normandy, Anjou, and Aquitaine. But like Logan, Henry’s refusal to delegate power to his heirs sowed the seeds of rebellion. His sons, promised thrones and titles, were kept on a tight leash, much like Kendall, Shiv, and Roman Roy chafing under their father’s dominance. Henry’s authoritarian style—demanding loyalty while offering little autonomy—mirrors Logan’s manipulative control, making him a fascinating figure for historical fiction.

Eleanor of Aquitaine: The Marcia Roy with a Rebel’s Edge

Queen Eleanor, one of history’s most iconic women, is the Marcia Roy of this saga—elegant, strategic, and underestimated at her peril. A duchess in her own right, Eleanor brought vast lands to her marriage with Henry, but their partnership soured as Henry’s affairs and control alienated her. In Succession, Marcia wields quiet influence behind the scenes; Eleanor, however, took it further, actively supporting her sons’ rebellion against their father. Her imprisonment by Henry after the revolt was a tragedy. She's always served as the perfect heroine for historical fiction readers who love strong, complex female characters.

The Children

"The painting shows an eagle with four of its young perching on it, one on each wing with a third on its back, tearing the parent with beaks and talons, while a fourth just as big as the others stands on its neck, waiting for a chance to peck out its eyes." [Gerald of Wales] 

Henry II had a mural painted on a wall in his palace in Winchester depicting himself as an eagle and his sons as eaglets pecking at him

Henry the Young King: Kendall Roy’s Medieval Mirror

Henry the Young King, crowned during his father’s lifetime to secure the succession, was a figurehead with no real power—much like Kendall Roy’s endless quest for control over Waystar Royco. Charismatic but frustrated, the Young King rebelled to claim the authority his title promised. A tragic anti-hero, his alliance with his brothers and foreign kings echoes Kendall’s desperate coalitions against Logan. 

Richard and Geoffrey: The Shiv and Roman of the Rebellion

Richard (later Richard the Lionheart) and Geoffrey, Henry’s younger sons (the youngest of all, John, was too young to be involved on either side), joined the revolt with their own ambitions. Richard, bold and martial, was akin to Shiv Roy - strategic and willing to play the long game. Geoffrey, less prominent but calculating, resembles Roman Roy, navigating the family power struggle with a mix of loyalty and opportunism. Their roles in the rebellion highlight the sibling rivalries and family dysfunction Succession fans will find only too familiar.

The Rebellion: A Plot Worthy of Historical Fiction

The Great Rebellion kicked off in 1173 when Henry the Young King, chafing under his father’s control, fled to the French court of King Louis VII, Eleanor’s ex-husband. Eleanor, possibly resentful of Henry’s infidelity and political side-lining, encouraged her sons to rebel, forging alliances with France, Scotland, and disgruntled English barons. This coalition aimed to dethrone Henry II or at least force him to share power.

The war raged across England and Normandy, with key battles like the siege of Rouen and the capture of William the Lion, King of Scotland, at Alnwick. Henry II, like Logan Roy facing a shareholder revolt, used his political acumen and military might to out-manoeuvre his enemies. By 1174, he crushed the rebellion, capturing Eleanor and forcing his sons to submit. Yet, the scars of this family betrayal lingered, setting the stage for future conflicts.

This saga, with its blend of political intrigue, familial backstabbing, and high-stakes battles, was a goldmine for my research, and you'll see it all play out in the pages of my upcoming book. The themes of power, loyalty, and ambition will resonate with fans of Succession and family dramas, while the medieval setting - castles, knights, and courtly schemes - adds a vivid backdrop for storytelling, and who doesn't love larger-than-life characters, intricate political machinations, and a family saga that feels startlingly modern? 

Final Thoughts: A Medieval Succession for the Ages

The Great Rebellion of 1173-1174 is more than a historical footnote; it’s a gripping tale of family, power, and betrayal that echoes the dysfunctional dynamics of Succession. King Henry II’s struggle to hold the Angevin Empire together against his own kin offers a narrative as compelling as any modern TV drama, with a cast of characters - Eleanor, the Young King, Richard, and Geoffrey - who rival the Roys in complexity and ambition. 

Want me to explore more medieval dramas or share your own examples of Succession-style historical events? Drop a comment below or check out my other posts on my work crafting historical fiction to bring the past to life.

Thank you for reading. Subscribe to my blog for more historical fiction insights and stories inspired by the dramas of the past.

On this Day in History: The Second Battle of Lincoln, 1217. When England was Saved from French Rule by a Woman and an Old Man

Matthew Paris illustration of the Battle of Lincoln

In the heart of medieval England, the Second Battle of Lincoln on 20th May 1217 marked a pivotal moment in the First Barons’ War. Many argue that if it wasn't for this battle, we'd all be speaking French.

This clash, fought outside Lincoln Castle, not only shaped the future of the English crown and our very nation state but was the physical endgame after years of drama, disloyalty, and betrayal by a king and his barons alike. 

"We shall be a lily-livered lot if we do not now take revenge on those who have come from France to take for themselves the lands of our men, thinking to inherit the same. They seek our total destruction; so, in God’s name, let us play for the highest stakes, for, if victory is ours, we must truly bear in mind that honour will accrue to us, and that that heritage will be defended, for us and our descendants, which they shamefully wish to deprive us of." [L'Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal]

In this battle, the legendary William Marshal, then in his seventies but known from his long years of campaigning and tourney-winning as the “greatest knight,” along with the lesser known Nicola de la Haye, constable of Lincoln Castle, helped secure England’s future. Let’s dive into this historic event and explore its under-recognised but huge significance.

What Was the Second Battle of Lincoln?

The Second Battle of Lincoln occurred during a turbulent period in English history. The First Barons’ War (1215–1217) erupted after rebellious barons, frustrated with what they saw as the tyranny of King John’s rule, invited Prince Louis of France (later Louis VIII) to claim the English throne. 

By 1217, Louis’s forces, allied with the barons, controlled much of southern England, including Lincoln Castle, which was under siege by royalist forces loyal to the boy-king Henry III; King John having died seven months before.  

On 20th May 1217, William Marshal, regent for the nine-year-old Henry III, led a royalist army to relieve the siege. The battle, sometimes called “The Fair of Lincoln” in jest by chroniclers like Roger of Wendover, saw the royalists decisively defeat the French and rebel forces, thankfully preventing England disintegrating under the yoke of irreversible French rule.

Key Players in the Battle

The Second Battle of Lincoln is a treasure trove of compelling characters for any historical fiction narrative:  

William Marshal: Known as the “greatest knight,” Marshal was a seasoned warrior and statesman in his 70s. His leadership and tactical brilliance turned the tide at Lincoln.  

Nicola de la Haye: Now known by many as "the woman who saved England," Nicola was a widow in her sixties. A formidable castellan of Lincoln Castle and first female sheriff in England, Nicola held the fortress, which she'd lived in and commanded for most of her life, for months against the French siege. 

Nicola de la Haye was the female constable of Lincoln Castle and very experienced at sieges

Thomas, Count of Perche: The French commander, young and idealistic, whose death during the battle was a crushing blow to Louis’s campaign.  

Prince Louis: The ambitious French prince who sought to seize the English crown but faced defeat at Lincoln.  

These figures, with their complex motivations and alliances, provide rich material for crafting gripping historical fiction.

The Battle Unfolds

The royalist forces, led by William Marshal, mustered at Newark and marched to Lincoln. The French and rebel barons, under the Count of Perche, were besieging Lincoln Castle, where Nicola de la Haye’s garrison, holding firm, were under heavy fire, the walls of the Castle crumbling under the force of the French siege engines. 

On 20th May Marshal’s army launched a daring assault. Using a combination of cavalry charges and strategic manoeuvres they breached two of the city gates whilst the garrison exploded from the Castle. Fierce street fighting ensued. The decisive moment came when, just outside the magnificent Norman Cathedral, the French commander, the Count of Perche, was killed with a dagger or sword strike through his great helm's eyeslit. The demoralised French forces soon surrendered or escaped the City.  

This victory was a turning point, weakening Louis’s campaign and securing Henry III’s claim to the throne. 

Why the Second Battle of Lincoln is still Important now

The clash of loyalties between English barons, a French prince, and a boy king was not just a dramatic moment in history: it changed the course of England's very future. England will forever be in debt to the courage of figures like Nicola de la Haye, a woman defying medieval gender norms, and the chivalric heroism of William Marshal. The battle’s gritty urban warfare, fought in the shadow of Lincoln Castle, can only be imagined.  

But more important: If the English hadn't won, perhaps we'd still be part of some huge French empire, speaking French. Who knows? But history would have been very, very different. 

The Battle of Lincoln Fair was more than a military victory; it was a defining moment that preserved English sovereignty. By defeating Louis’s forces, the royalists ensured that England remained under Plantagenet rule, paving the way for Henry III’s reign. The battle also cemented William Marshal’s legacy as a loyal servant of the crown and highlighted the strategic importance of fortified castles like Lincoln. 

Perhaps one day, Nicola de la Haye will also get the credit she deserves for saving England. Afterall, if she hadn't held out against all the odds in a prolonged siege, there would have been no battle, and the English may all have become French subjects.  

Explore the Battle Through Fiction

If you’re captivated by the drama of the Second Battle of Lincoln, I invite you to stayed tuned for my upcoming historical fiction novels, where the sights, sounds, and struggles of medieval England come alive. From the civil war of the Great Rebellion to the clashing swords of Lincoln’s streets during battle to the political intrigue of the First Barons’ War, my stories aim to transport you to this thrilling era. 

Follow my blog for more historical insights and stories, and let’s journey through the past together.

On This Day in HIstory: The Massacre of Jews in Worms, 1096. A Dark Chapter of the First Crusade

 

Medieval massacre of Jews

In the shadow of the First Crusade, the city of Worms, nestled along the Rhine River in modern-day Germany, became the stage for one of the most harrowing episodes of the 11th century: the massacre of its Jewish community on 18th May 1096.

As a historical fiction author researching, amongst other things, medieval anti-semitism, I was horrified at the haunting glimpse into a world of prejudice and division exacerbated by fervour, fear, and fanaticism.

The Spark of the First Crusade

In November 1095, Pope Urban II’s call to arms at the Council of Clermont ignited the First Crusade, urging Christians to reclaim Jerusalem from Muslim control. While the official Crusader armies were still forming, a ragtag movement known as the People’s Crusade—led by charismatic figures like Peter the Hermit and Count Emicho of Leiningen—swept through Europe. These bands, often poorly organized and driven by religious zeal, targeted not only distant enemies but also local Jewish communities, whom they scapegoated as “Christ-killers” and economic rivals.

Worms, a prosperous trading hub with a vibrant Jewish population, became a flashpoint. The Jewish community, numbering around 800–1,000 people, was deeply integrated into the city’s life, living in the Judengasse (Jewish quarter) and contributing to commerce and scholarship. Yet, as Crusader fervour spread, rumours and anti-Semitic rhetoric painted Jews as enemies of the faith, setting the stage for violence.

May 18, 1096: The Storm Breaks

The tragedy unfolded on May 18, 1096, when a mob of Crusaders, local townsfolk, and opportunistic looters descended on Worms. Historical accounts, including the Mainz Anonymous and the Chronicle of Solomon bar Simson, paint a vivid picture of the chaos. The Jewish community, forewarned of the approaching danger, sought protection. Some found refuge in the bishop’s palace, under the nominal protection of Bishop Adalbert, while others hid in their homes or with Christian neighbours willing to shield them.

The Crusaders, however, were relentless. Fuelled by a toxic mix of religious fanaticism and greed, the mob stormed the Judengasse. Families were dragged from their homes, and synagogues were desecrated. Soon, the city was soaked in blood. The Mainz Anonymous recounts the brutality: men, women, and children were slaughtered without mercy. Some Jews, facing forced conversion or death, chose martyrdom, a practice known as Kiddush Hashem (sanctification of God’s name). Entire families took their own lives rather than renounce their faith, a testament to their courage and conviction.

Can you imagine the horror? Solomon, a young Jewish scholar, clutching a Torah scroll, hiding in a cellar as the mob’s shouts echo above. Hannah, clutching her children to her breast even as a leering crusader pushes her to the ground.

The Bishop’s Palace was a False Sanctuary

By May 20, the violence escalated. The Jews sheltering in Bishop Adalbert’s palace believed they were safe, as the Church officially opposed violence against Jews, viewing them as witnesses to Christian salvation. However, Adalbert’s protection was feeble, possibly compromised by pressure from the mob or his own ambivalence. The Crusaders stormed the palace, massacring those inside. Chronicles describe heartrending scenes: mothers shielding their children, rabbis reciting prayers as swords fell, and a community clinging to faith in the face of annihilation.

Estimates suggest that nearly the entire Jewish population of Worms - hundreds of men, women, children and babies - were wiped out over a few days. If there were any survivors (and there's no record of any) they would have been those who converted under duress or were hidden by compassionate Christians.

Worms Massacre offers a horrifying glimpse into the past. Imagine a Christian merchant risking everything to hide a Jewish family, or a rabbi’s daughter grappling with the choice between conversion and death.

The massacre was, unhappily, not an isolated event; similar atrocities struck Jewish communities in Mainz, Cologne, and other Rhineland cities during the spring and summer of 1096. Further tragedies will strike in the Holy Land and later in Medieval Europe.

A Legacy of Resilience and Remembrance

The Worms Massacre left an indelible mark on Jewish history. The survivors and chroniclers ensured that the stories of the martyrs were preserved, shaping Jewish identity and memory. The piyyutim (liturgical poems) composed in the aftermath mourned the dead and celebrated their faith, while the Jewish community of Worms rebuilt in the decades that followed, demonstrating remarkable resilience. It even influenced the actions of the Jews trapped in York's 'Clifford's Tower' almost a hundred years later.

Why the Worms Massacre Matters Today

The events of 1096 are more than a historical footnote; they are a stark reminder of the dangers of fanaticism and scapegoating. The Worms Massacre, like other Rhineland pogroms, foreshadowed centuries of anti-Semitic violence in Europe, from the Black Death persecutions to the Holocaust. Yet, it also highlights the strength of communities that endure unimaginable loss and rebuild.

As a historical fiction author, I find inspiration in the voices that emerge from such tragedies - voices of defiance, love, and hope. The Worms Massacre invites us to explore the complexities of human nature, where fear and hatred clash with compassion and sacrifice.

For more tales of the Crusades, subscribe to my blog.

Sources for Further Reading

• Mainz Anonymous and Chronicle of Solomon bar Simson (primary sources available in translations like The Jews and the Crusaders by Shlomo Eidelberg)
• Robert Chazan, In the Year 1096: The First Crusade and the Jews
• Jonathan Riley-Smith, The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading

Was Henry II of England Like a Cowboy: Bowlegged from Years on Horseback as he Campaigned to Hold onto his Empire?

Henry II was described as being red-haired with bow legs

"His [Henry II] stature was of medium height, with a strong, square chest, and legs somewhat bowed from constant riding, yet his frame was robust and full of vigour, suited to the toils of war and the chase." [Peter de Blois]

Imagine the year, 1165. Henry II, King of England, swings into the saddle of his prized warhorse, kicks the beast's flanks and the destrier surges forwards, Henry's cloak billowing, his spurs glinting. 

Day after day, the restless king rides across muddy fields, through ancient forests, chasing rebellions whilst forging the Angevin Empire. Like a man with the Devil at his back, he gallops across his lands - England, Normandy, Aquitaine, Maine, Touraine, Anjou, and Brittany. From town to town, from hunting lodge hunting lodge, castle to castle, abbey to abbey, meeting bishops, nobles, and merchants; dispensing justice, dealing with rebellious vassals - even his own rebellious sons. 

As a consequence, Henry's legs, his courtiers whisper, are as bowed from riding as the arc of a hunter’s bow. 

Did those contemporary chroniclers speak the truth? Was Henry II truly bow-legged? And if so, could this medieval monarch, like the cowboys of the Wild West, have developed his bowlegged gait from a life astride? As a historical fiction author keen to show people as they were where possible, this is something I wanted to know. 

History's Whispers: The Chroniclers' Testimony

Lean closer, let the shadows of history envelop you. Unlike the silence often shrouding royal flaws, they noted his bowlegged gate - a detail both mundane and profound. Gerald of Wales and Peter of Blois, among others, described Henry as a man of vigour, yet marked by legs curved from years in the saddle. This wasn't mockery but observation, a glimpse into the physical toll of medieval kingship. 

"He was a man of robust build, with a broad chest and strong limbs, his countenance ruddy and marked by a fierce energy, reflecting a spirit blown-up vigour that knew neither rest nor leisure. His activity was incessant, and he was always in motion, as if driven by an unquenchable fire." [Gerald of Wales]

"His stature was of medium height, with a strong, square chest, and legs somewhat bowed from constant riding, yet his frame was robust and full of vigor, suited to the toils of war and the chase." [Peter of Blois]

These accounts anchor our tale. No need for speculation when the quills of the past confirm Henry’s bowed legs. Yet, the question remains: was horse riding the culprit? The chroniclers don’t say, but their words paint a vivid picture—a king striding with a cowboy’s swagger, his legs a testament to a life of relentless motion. The image is irresistible, pulling us deeper into the mystery.

Henry II's Angevin Empire included half of modern France

A King in the Saddle: Henry II's Life on Horseback

Feel the rhythm of hoofbeats pounding the earth. Henry II, born in 1133, was a man of boundless energy, ruling England, Normandy, and vast swathes of what is now France. Chronicles paint him as a king who loathed idleness, often leaping onto his horse to inspect distant castles or quell uprisings. His court scrambled to keep pace, their quills scratching tales of a ruler who seemed welded to his steed.

Now, let your mind drift to the sensation of riding. Your thighs ache, your knees bend, your body moulds to the horse’s motion. For Henry, this was no occasional jaunt. Medieval roads were scarce, and horses were the arteries of power. A king’s life depended on mobility—rushing to battles, parleys, or hunts. But did these endless hours in the saddle shape his very bones?

The Cowboy Connection: Bowlegs in the Saddle

Shift your gaze to another time, another place. A time with photographs and real-life heroes. The American West, 19th, 20th, even 21st century. Cowboys, those knights of the plains, live in their saddles, herding cattle across endless horizons. Their legs, over years, can take on a distinctive curve—bowlegs, a hallmark of a life spent gripping a horse. Medical minds suggest that constant pressure on the femur and tibia, especially in youth, can subtly reshape bones. The cowboy’s bowlegged swagger wasn’t just myth; it was anatomy sculpted by necessity.

Don't believe me? Watch a few episodes of Yellowstone, particularly the ones with the real cowboys in. Forrie J. Smith, the actor who plays Lloyd Pierce, is a real-life cowboy who grew up on a ranch in Montana and started riding horses and competing in rodeos at the age of eight! Before becoming an actor he worked as a stuntman, performing in films like Rambo III and Tombstone. And Forrie has a typical cowboy stance and swagger - one I would call bowlegged - just look at the picture in this Facebook post! 

Now, weave these threads together. Henry II ascended the throne at 21, his body still pliable, his bones not fully hardened. Like a cowboy, he rode from adolescence into manhood, his days measured by the creak of leather and the snort of his mount. 

The Science of the Saddle: Could It Happen?

Let’s ground our tale in the physical world. Orthopaedic studies suggest that prolonged mechanical stress, like gripping a horse, can influence bone development, particularly in the young. Cowboys, riding from their teens, often showed mild bowing by their 30s. Henry, crowned young and riding incessantly, fits this mould. His femur, under constant lateral pressure, could have adapted, curving to match the chroniclers’ descriptions.

Yet, differences abound. Medieval saddles, often high-backed and rigid, distributed weight differently than cowboy saddles. Henry’s horses, bred for war, moved with a heavier gait than nimble mustangs. And genetics plays its part—some are predisposed to bowed legs, saddle or no. Still, the chroniclers’ testimony tilts the balance, suggesting that Henry’s life in the saddle likely contributed to his distinctive gait.

A King's Legacy: A Great Monarch

Step back now, let the hoofbeats fade. Henry II’s bowlegged stride adds a human brushstroke to his legend. His empire, stretching from Scotland to the Pyrenees, was built on those rides, bowed legs or not. Like a cowboy carving trails through untamed lands, Henry carved a legacy through kingdoms, leaving echoes that still resonate. But put aside the tales of boundless energy, the constant travelling and trouble-shooting. Even the story of his fight with Thomas Becket (for another blog). A BBC HistoryExtra article entitled "Who was Britain’s greatest monarch?" was published on February 7, 2022, featuring nominations from 12 experts for the title, including historian John Gillingham’s case for Henry II due to his legal reforms and imperial expansion. This article featured nominations from 12 experts, including historian John Gillingham’s case for Henry II as one of Britain’s greatest monarchs due to his legal reforms and imperial expansion.

Conclusion

So, was Henry II’s bowlegged gait, as chroniclers described, forged by excessive horse riding, like a cowboy’s? The evidence leans yes, blending science, history, and the vivid accounts of those who saw him stride. Picture him now, astride his charger, legs curved, galloping through time. The truth, etched in ancient ink, lives on in the story—a tale as enduring as the king himself. 

Exploring Baille Hill Castle: York’s Forgotten Medieval Fortress

 

Whatever happened to Baille Hill Castle in York?

Rachel on Baille Hill

Tucked away in York’s Bishophill area, Baille (or Baile) Hill Castle—also known as the Old Baile—is a charming hidden gem of English history that fires the imagination and whispers tales of the Norman Conquest to any visitor with open eyes and an active imagination. 

Imagine you're the castellan (constable), standing on the top of the wooden castle high on the castle mound, gazing first down to the bustling south-westerly bailey below, at the blacksmith firing up his forge, grooms leading horses from the stables, a woman scattering grain at the scratching hens.... then you  glance east across the River Ouse, a defensive chain slung from east to west... your focus shifts directly ahead at the neighbouring castle, its motte also high, but this time, your stomach twists. How had the castellan there secured a stone tower whilst yours is still made of wood? 

Despite your frustration, your breath catches at the splendour of the moat, the stone 'Clifford's Tower' and the huge York Castle Bailey... a view that would have been much like that in the painting below. 

A medieval view of York (Clifford's) Castle from the other side of the River Ouse

But back to the forgotten Baille Hill. Built by William the Conqueror in 1069, Baille Hill, like its neighbour, was critical to securing York during the  turbulent post-conquest era, but unlike its more famous eastern counterpart, 'Clifford’s Tower', the medieval motte-and-bailey fortress of Baille Hill is in danger of going unnoticed by visitors. 

A Brief History

Baille Hill Castle was constructed in 1069 as part of William the Conqueror’s campaign to subdue northern England after the Norman Conquest of 1066. Positioned on the west bank of the River Ouse, opposite York Castle (now Clifford’s Tower), it formed a strategic defensive system to control the city.  Originally it consisted of a 40-foot-high circular earthen mound (motte) topped with a wooden tower and a fortified courtyard (bailey) on the south-west side surrounded by a ditch. Excavations have revealed the remains of 12th century buildings on the top of the Motte. The Motte survives to an average height of 7.7 metres.

Baille Hill with Motte and Bailey to South-West

In September 1069, both York castles faced a fierce attack from a Danish Viking fleet and local rebels, leaving them partially destroyed. William swiftly rebuilt Baille Hill, reinforcing its importance. By the late 12th century, the castle passed to the Archbishops of York, who clearly didn't appreciate what they had and leased it for grazing! Disused by 1322, it was was incorporated into the town defences, but once again it saw brief action during the English Civil War in 1644, when two cannons were placed on the motte to defend against a siege. 

Today, the motte remains (the first image shows me walking atop it) while the bailey has largely been built over. 

Fun Fact: Excavations in 1979 uncovered remnants of 12th-century timber buildings and a staircase on the motte, offering a glimpse into its medieval past!

Why Visit Baille Hill Castle?

While Baille Hill may not boast the grandeur of Clifford’s Tower, its understated charm and historical significance make it a must-visit for history buffs and medieval enthusiasts. Here’s why:

• Rich History and a Hidden Gem: Escape the crowds, walk along the city walls to Baille Hill an enjoy a peaceful moment at this lesser-known site. Stand on the same mound where Norman soldiers once surveyed York, and imagine the wooden castle’s role in the Harrying of the North.
• City Walls Connection: Baille Hill is part of York’s iconic city walls trail, offering scenic views and a chance to explore the city’s defences. See the York Wall Trail.
• Free Access: No entry fees— you can simply climb the motte and soak in the history!

Located at the junction of Baille Hill Terrace and Cromwell Road, the site features an information board with a QR code for additional details, making it an educational stop on your York adventure.

South corner of York walls including Baille Hill

Baille Hill in My Research Journey

As I put the finishing touches on the second novel in my medieval historical fiction series about a trailblazing woman who defied conventions, Baille Hill has been a source of inspiration. York features as part of a subplot in the story - a tragic tale about real people and as I stood atop the motte, trusty medieval map of York in hand, I was transported back to the 12th Century. 

York Castles

So there were two castles in York. One to the east of the river - now known as 'York Castle' or 'Clifford's Tower', the other on the west of the river - now known as 'Baille Hill Castle'. What isn't clear is what they were called in the 11th or 12 centuries. 

So what of Clifford's Tower? 

The day after my visit to Baille Hill I visited Clifford's Tower and grilled an English Heritage expert on what he knew about 'York Castle's" 12th Century structure. I'm very grateful to him for his insights and the follow up email exchanges.  My question: also motte-and-bailey, but was 'York Castle' or 'Clifford's Tower' in the 1100s made of wood or stone, and was it a shell keep or a traditional Norman/ square keep? I've researched the answers, but that'll form part of another blog post, so stay tuned for more research tidbits as I weave York’s past into my story!

Fun Facts About Baille Hill Castle

• A chain once stretched across the River Ouse from Baille Hill to Clifford’s Tower, controlling river access to York’s heart.
• The motte was lowered in the 19th century to make farming easier, reducing its original height.
• A hoard of silver pennies from Edward the Confessor and William I was found on Baile Hill in the early 19th century.
• During the Civil War, the motte was reshaped to support two cannons, a rare moment of military use after centuries of grazing.

Plan Your Visit to York’s Medieval Past

Baille Hill Castle is a testament to York’s layered history, from Norman conquest to medieval grazing grounds. Whether you’re a history enthusiast, a fiction writer like me, or a curious traveller, this forgotten fortress offers a unique glimpse into England’s past. Pair your visit with the other castle, Clifford's Tower, along with the impressive York Minster, the Jorvik Viking Centre, the remains of St Mary's Abbey or a riverside walk along the Ouse.

Visiting York? Add Baille Hill to your York itinerary and remember the people who built, lived and fought on its ancient mound. Share your visit in the comments or follow my blog for more medieval adventures and updates on my upcoming novels!