If walls could talk: Poetry, marks and traces at Bolsover Castle

If walls could talk: Poetry, marks and traces at Bolsover Castle

Figure 1: The ‘Little Castle’ of Bolsover Castle.

In this post, Dr Abbi Flint reflects on how we might think poetically about writing and other physical marks inscribed on the fabric of heritage sites, drawing on one of our case study sites, Bolsover Castle (figure 1).

Here I stand
Both Day and Night
To keep out cold
And let in light.

Figure 2: The ‘lantern’ of the keep of Bolsover Castle.

This curious little verse was reported by Richard Goulding, in his guide to Bolsover Castle published in 1936, as etched onto a pane of the roof window (the ‘lantern’, figure 2) within the Little Castle at Bolsover and dated to 1840. In his 1833 History and Gazetteer of Derbyshire Stephen Glover also describes a longer poem, on one of the columns beneath this lantern, written by the Reverend William Tinsley who lived in the Castle in the early nineteenth-century:. This poem starts:

Let not each conceited fribble,
Whose fingers itch his name to scribble,
   Dare to pollute these time-tried walls:
Bethink thee, how have passed thy fleeting days?

The lantern verse was etched onto a surface that visitors cannot currently access, and Tinsley’s was likely removed during restoration and renovation work. However, by being placed on the stone and glass surfaces of the Castle they became (an albeit temporary) part of the physical heritage of the site and also tap into longer poetic practices and traditions connected with what Professor Heather Blatt has termed extracodexical texts. These are texts written outside the confines of manuscripts or books, and may include verses written, stitched, or etched onto a variety of surfaces such as plates, fabric, walls, and windows. For instance, Ben Wilkinson-Turnbull’s recent doctoral thesis on the materiality of women’s writing from the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries, which builds on Blatt's work on extracodexical texts, examines women’s writing on windows. As Professor Blatt points out, the physical placement of this type of poetry invites us to reflect on how readers or listeners might have encountered these verses, and how this might differ from reading poetry in books. What did the location of these words, and the materials they were inscribed on – glass and stone – bring to these experiences? In her guide to Bolsover Castle, written in 2000, Lucy Worsley described how in the past the roof of the keep was ‘used for walking about on in fine weather and watching the deer in the park.’ Could the lantern poem have been inscribed on the lantern with the purpose of only being seen when guests were enjoying a stroll on this roof?

Poetry without words?

The words of the lantern and Tinsley’s verses are intentionally poetic, but what about the many other deliberately made marks and traces on the walls and surfaces of the Castle? Some of these are what we may consider unwelcome vandalism, such as the recent graffiti in the garden rooms. Visitors may also see, however, marks of a protective nature. Often called ‘ witches’ marks ’ What Are Witches’ Marks? | Historic England these apotropaic etchings from the sixteenth century onwards are thought to be a form of ritual protection from evil, usually found near openings, such as doors, windows and fireplaces.

Figure 3 : Hexafoil                                                   Figure 4: Marion Mark

On a visit to Bolsover Castle in May 2025, guided by the expert knowledge of Writer in Residence Tyler Turner, and an English Heritage volunteer, I saw hexafoils on the wall of William Cavendish’s toilet room (figure 3), Marion Marks near the main stairwell (figure 4), and an unusual set of concentric circles (similar to this example from Somerset Witches' Marks: Public Response To Call Out | Historic England ) between the hearth and window in the Star Chamber (figure 5). Research by Matt Beresford as part of the Derbyshire & Nottinghamshire Medieval Graffiti Survey, has identified protective marks in the castle’s stable and riding school too. Don’t scare the horses: Unpicking 17th-century protective graffiti at Bolsover Castle’s Riding School – The Past . The deliberate placing of these symbols near openings, their careful and intentional design, and their protective purpose perhaps speaks to poetic (and place-based) expressions of both superstition and communal care.

  
Figure 5: Concentric circles                           

In the basement kitchens of the Little Castle there are many indentations and etchings, including possible protective marks. Traces of working lives are also represented in tool-marks visible in many of the stones that make up the walls of the Castle. Without more detailed study it’s impossible to know when, how or by whom these marks were made, but they invite speculation into the lives of the ordinary working people in the past. Were these accidental traces of labour or ways that those who worked here deliberately left their mark?

How might we take a poetic perspective to these various, non-linguistic, marks and traces and what might they tell us? Project Co-investigator Dr JC Niala, recently told me about asemic poetry – a form of poetry that can use lines, shapes, and symbols instead of words. Here, meanings and feelings are evoked for the viewer/reader through rhythm, movement and space. Thinking along these lines, how might we read the various shapes and marks at Bolsover? What can we interpret, for instance, about the depth of feeling from the clustering of protective symbols, or the different movements evoked by the angular forms of Marion Marks contrasted with the fluid yet precise shapes of the hexafoils and concentric circles?

Discussing the rhythm of work that might be written in the pattern and intensity of the tool-marks I saw at Bolsover, JC and I were prompted to think of folk song, and particularly working songs. In 1954 Peter Kennedy recorded the work-songs of quarry workers on the Isle of Portland. This short film is possibly an extract from Kennedy’s film and shows twentieth century quarry-men working to the rhythm of songs and chants led by their ‘shanty man’. Did the local Derbyshire quarry-workers of the seventeenth century, who shaped the stones that form the castle walls, have their own work-songs? The Bolsover tool-marks were coming to life for me; no longer simple indentations, they sang their own imagined songs of the labour of un-named and ordinary people whose lives and voices are an integral part of the history of this site.

Thinking poetically about graffiti, apotropaic marks, and the traces of labour at Bolsover Castle may not yield historical facts about the lives of the ordinary people who lived and worked there, but it does prompt reflection on how those marks might hint toward histories of care, of fear, of work and communality. Might thinking more openly and creatively about these marks and traces provide an imaginative bridge to these unknown voices in a way that resonates for visitors today and prompts reflection on the diversity of histories represented in the physical fabric of heritage sites?