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среда, 12 января 2022 г.
пятница, 15 октября 2021 г.
суббота, 3 июля 2021 г.
Valencia comminity
The courtyard of the castle was divided into two parts by a high (higher than the outer) wall. The wide space in front of it was occupied by various services: warriors and servants were supposed to live here, stables were to be located. In the courtyard, on the other side of the wall, there was a tower, much higher and more reliable than all the others, with rare narrow loopholes - a donjon (the house of the owner of the castle). Inside the donjon it was gloomy, cold, and not as spacious as one might think, standing outside: three halls one above the other, separated by wooden ceilings, two rooms, a kitchen and an armory. Not too rich for a powerful lord, but even King Henry II himself had only one bedroom in the house besides the halls. The main thing was not luxurious chambers, but reliable walls.
Before the builders had time to lay the last stones, the castle began to be inhabited by those for whom it was built: the lord with his relatives, soldiers and servants. Under the gloomy vaults, children's voices often rang: in addition to the children of the owner, the sons of his vassals grew up and were brought up in the castle.
Life behind the strong walls flowed secluded and measured. If there was no war, the seigneur hunted, practiced swordsmanship or had fun playing dice and chess. The mistress spent her days doing endless needlework. Only at the beginning of summer did the castle really come to life: they played weddings, received numerous guests, arranged tournaments and gave feasts, which they remembered later until next year, unless something else happened - an attack by an enemy, a fire, the arrival of an unexpected noble guest. In the rest of the time, even news rarely reached the castle, and therefore its inhabitants were incredibly happy if a traveler, a wandering monk or a minstrel, asked for shelter on a long winter evening. It was they who told the owners what was happening in remote places, where you couldn’t get on horseback in a day. If the story was full of incredible and amazing events, then even better - there was something to remember after the guest left.
Enemies often approached the castle. They did not often try to climb the high walls - they were tormented by the siege more and more, but this was not always possible: a lot of supplies were stored in the cellars of the castle, they took water for drinking here, in the well, and secret underground passages also helped out.
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So 200 years have passed in wars and boring peaceful life. During this time, the king strengthened his power, with whom the lord, the founder of the stronghold, was not afraid to compete before. His descendant was no longer the undivided master of the district - above him was a royal official. But wars were still frequent, and therefore the current lord made sure that his family nest remained formidable and impregnable, but no longer as a center of possessions, but as a fortress. The log bridge was replaced by a drawbridge, on thick iron chains. The halls in the donjon were now divided not by wooden ceilings, but by stone vaults, which the craftsmen painted with ornaments. Only the tower itself became cramped for housing, and a solid stone house grew next to it.
Over the past time, much more than the castle itself, its surroundings have changed. In the neighborhood, a rather large city was noisy. He grew up on the site of a village of artisans who once settled under the walls of a neighboring castle, now left without an owner. He was driven out by the townspeople, whom this seigneur tormented with requisitions. The inhabitants of the city - the descendants of those first artisans - no longer needed his protection and could stand up for themselves.
Another 100 years have passed. The strife subsided, the clear boundaries of the lands of the once powerful lords were erased. Their heirs carried faithful service to the king, and the castle was a thing of the past along with the independence of its owner. He could still rise on a hill, but his walls were already very dilapidated. But behind them grew the sharp roof of a small chapel, new buildings appeared - a spacious house with large halls and many rooms. Times have changed: luxurious chambers have become more important than reliable walls.
The years flew by, and the first cannons rumbled on the battlefields, against which the completely decrepit walls and towers of the old castle could not resist. The current owner, and his father, were little interested in the fate of the castle - they lived at the royal court in the capital. Only old servants huddled in the former master's house.
But the time has come when the owner of the once proud stronghold, who performs the royal service in the neighboring city (the former village of artisans), returned to the half-empty ruins. A noble courtier wished to rebuild the family castle. The master masons set to work. Using stones taken from the dilapidated donjon and towers, they rebuilt, expanded, built on the old house, turning it into a completely new elegant building with small turrets. A piece of wall that collapsed into a moat was remade into an elegant bridge. The chipped remnants of the walls were dismantled and the buildings needed for the household were erected from them.
Thus, among the rapidly growing trees, a new castle grew up, completely unlike its formidable ancestor, which hung over the district with five heavy towers. He met the tastes of his owner in everything, who was not going to fight with anyone, but who loved luxury and convenience. Its defensive qualities fully corresponded to the independence of the owner - a nobleman in the royal service. By virtue of tradition, an elegant large house standing in the middle of a park was called a castle for quite a long time. But it was already a real palace.
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