Europe’s Castles Explained: Living Inside Medieval Strongholds | Full Documentary

Like nothing else, they represent the Middle Ages. Castles take us back to dramatic times. They're shrouded in myths and legends. Castles are places where people lived and worked and died. They were economic centers, fortified homes and sites of countless battles. They've become part of the European heritage. History was made in any castle. Yet, what was life like behind their walls? Around the year 1000 AD, there still prevailed the law of might is right. As for personal security or that of one's family, it was every man for himself. So those with the necessary means went about setting up a safe place. A refuge impenetrable to enemies. This is what castles were meant to be. And they proved highly successful throughout the Middle Ages. They are the most obviously recognizable memento of the Middle Ages. And the Middle Ages is where our society comes from. They remind you of the medieval past and that's a connection with our own history. No other type of building has left a more obvious imprint on our landscape. In all of Europe, we come across these silent witnesses of the Middle Ages. Sometimes, they were within sight of each other. And no two castles were further apart than a day's march. Yet only a fraction of the medieval fortresses still stands. Often, only their name has survived. Throughout Europe, thousands of streets and place names bear witness to this immense number. Cities like Regensburg, Newcastle, Belgrade or Castel Gandolfo have kept the term of their origin in their names. Beustrat, Trajanska Namesti or Plaza del Castillo are all reminders of places where medieval castles once stood. The most popular type of castle was that built on a high cliff. The position itself provided protection from potential attackers as well as a splendid view of the surrounding countryside and any approaching enemy. While in flat country, they needed additional measures of fortification. A moat, for instance, to keep the attackers at bay. It was even more practical if you could use a lake or a river as a natural moat. Castle Predjama in Slovenia is a good example of sophisticated utilization of natural conditions. Here, they've merely erected walls in front of a cave. It could be as simple as that. During the early Middle Ages, most castles were still built of wood. A fortress of stone was beyond the means of the average nobleman. The so-called Kolmar Annals state, the lesser nobles out in the country had small towers, which they could barely defend against their fellow knights. Proper castles or fortified places were an exception. But even simple wooden towers offered some protection. And the dense forests of Europe back then provided wood in abundance. It was a convenient building material. And thus, the wooden castle became the standard model of early medieval fortifications. A wooden tower on a hill may be basic, but it does serve its purpose as a defensive stronghold and already shows most of the features of its stone-built successors. The keep stands upon an artificially erected mound, the so-called motte. The term, as well as the architectural design, is of French origin. Most keeps were surrounded by a palisade fence and, if possible, by a moat. So there are the same defensive elements as in later castles. Every motte had its outward bailey. It too was fortified by palisades in the trench. The bailey would provide space for outbuilding stables and huts for the serfs of the lord of the castle. In France and in Great Britain, the wooden motte has survived in the shape of their stone-built siblings, the Donjon castles. One of the oldest examples is Gisors in Normandy. Their telltale feature is the central keep, which housed the lord of the castle and his family. Gisors was built in the 11th century and back then was a substantial complex. It guarded the frontier against the English neighbours. In England too, there's also a motte from Norman times. Windsor Castle was originally built by William the Conqueror as part of a ring of fortifications around London. Windsor is one of the greatest castles in any way you care to name in Europe, really. Its origins like most of our great castles with William the Conqueror and the main legacy from his time is not a building but the layout, which is very distinctive and known in England only at a couple of other sites including Arundel. And that is to say that in the middle there is a great big motte, a big mound, and then there are two baileys, one each side. So it forms a kind of figure of eight with the motte in the middle, which means that it's enormous and it is one of the biggest castles in Europe to this day. During the 12th century, the original wooden keep was replaced by a stone building. With time, the royal fortress was considerably enlarged and ever more buildings were added, which now took up the apartments once in the donjon. Other than Royal Windsor, most of the medieval castles were rather humble affairs. Life here was anything but luxurious. Usually, the castle's inhabitants lived under the same roof as their cattle and pigs, sometimes even directly above them, so as to have a natural source of heating. Even as a knight you are surrounded by bleating sheep, cattle and people wearing clogs. There's nothing but grind and constant bustle. A nobleman summed up life in his castle. And as for personnel, in most castles there were only two guardsmen, a handmaid and a churl. That would have been about it. But then, during the 12th and the 13th centuries, with the ascendancy of the Staufer dynasty, castle building started in earnest. During their reign as emperors of the Holy German Empire, no fewer than 15,000 castles were constructed. To the Staufers, castles were a means of securing power. Like here, in the Palatinate, they blanketed Europe with a virtual net of castles. The most famous German castles that certainly spring to an English mind are the ones built in the 12th century and the 13th century under the Hohenstaufen dynasty, where generally you have a curtain wall running around, fairly simple, and crucially the obsession with very tall, non-residential but defensive towers, the Burgfriede. So that German tradition of the Burgfriede, the great block in the middle which is the palace, and this wall around the outside is something you don't find in England and belongs to a different tradition, although the ultimate purpose of being a castle is the same. According to a medieval saying, the father of Emperor Barbarossa always had a castle at hand when traveling the country, thereby extending his grip on the land. Many nobles followed the example of the imperial dynasty and erected castles of their own. Under the Staufers, castles became the prominent feature of central Europe. The dynasty's empire extended from the North Sea down to southern Italy. Cleverly arranged marriages helped them to enlarge it even further, always securing their new possessions by yet more castles. The virtual mushrooming of castles was also fostered by a favorable climate, which brought about rich harvests. As a consequence, Europe's population swelled, and more people meant more subjects for the nobles, making the lords wealthier than ever before, since medieval society was built on a strict hierarchy. The lowest stratum was made up of the peasants, by far the largest part of the population. Most of them were directly dependent on the nobles, who themselves had been given land as fees by their rulers, which they then had to administer. On top of the pyramid was the king, the first among the nobles who owed him allegiance. Besides rallying to the king's standard in case of war, the nobles were also obliged to build castles. Yet, before they could start a given project, they had to call on their overlord for approval. In other words, a building license from the local authority, quite like today. That approval was needed from high up is amply documented. There is legislation in the so-called Sachsenspiegel, which explicitly states what constitutes a fortified building. In other words, is it a castle, and does it therefore need to be approved beforehand? This includes buildings which are surrounded by a trench deeper than a man's height, or with walls so high they cannot be reached by a rider on his horse, or when walls have been crowned with battlements, or a building which has a gate above ground level. Castle Elz, above the Moselle River, is a classic example of the castle boom during the Staufer era. In the beginning, there was only a single tower. It was home to the brothers Wilhelm, Elias, Theoderic and their families. When their father died in 1268, he left three sons for just one castle. This kind of medieval flat-sharing community is also called a Ghan heritage. The cramped conditions were a recipe for friction. Yet, even if there was conflict, the families stuck together for centuries. Thirty-three generations later, Castle Elz is still family-owned. Today's lord of the castle is Karl Count Elz. The Ghan heritage obviously came about because there were too many male heirs. It was a way of coming to terms with what little you had. A single castle, in this case, accompanied by a rather limited amount of land, which had to be shared by the prime heirs. The brothers set up three separate family branches. The Elzes of the Golden Lion. Those of the Silver Lion. And those of the Buffalo Horns. Yet, they jointly administered the estate, living in the castle together. Today's Castle Elz still bears witness to the entangled property situation. Every family built itself a kind of terraced house within the fortified compound, each property shoulder-to-shoulder with its neighbor. Lack of space led to creative solutions. Just like in modern cities, the only way was up. Yet sometimes, there was no love lost between the members of the family. One of them no longer wanted to take mass along with his kin, and had a chapel of his own built. However, the only space available was in the bedroom. Since custom and belief allowed no other rooms above a chapel, it was added in the form of an aureole. For practical reasons, the Elzes, like all builders, resorted to materials from the nearby countryside. When looking for a site, they found a rocky promontory in the middle of a valley, where there was basically all you needed to build a castle. There was greywacker, wood of course, and there was slate nearby. There was lime and clay too. So they were almost self-sufficient. To build a castle, you needed a good deal of expertise. So when planning his own house in 1300, Theoderic had hired a site manager. Yet, push as he might, the project was stalled. Even in the Middle Ages, shortage of skilled workers was common. It's a widespread misconception that medieval castles were erected by drawing on serf labor. The local peasants simply didn't have the adequate know-how. French archaeologists have set out to research at first hand which skills were necessary to build a proper castle. Here in Guédelon, they rely only on the methods and tools of the Middle Ages. Since there are hardly any written sources on the actual working processes of medieval building sites, the archaeologists are trying things out for themselves. For instance, when it comes to handling the treadwheel crane, one of the most important and consequential innovations of the 13th century. To haul up a block of stone would now merely require two runners inside the wheel and a crane operator, whereas before, the combined force of a dozen men was needed. Work here in Guédelon began some 20 years ago. The castle is supposed to be finished in 2023. There are 50 permanent employees working all year round and another 200 seasonal helpers. According to estimates, it took a 75-strong medieval working unit just five years to raise a castle. One of the key artisans on a site like this one was the blacksmith. His job was to produce the tools for the other craftsmen and he was never out of work. Attrition was immense. The stonemasons alone would use up two sets of picks, hammers, hoes, pickaxes and countless chisels every single day. It's no different today. There has to be a constant flow of tools to keep the work going. So everything depended on the constant toil of a skilled blacksmith to guarantee the smooth running of the overall site. Clearly visible to the eye, there is a variety of marks carved into the stones. What was the purpose of these strange signs? The traditional explanation is that these marks were a method of accounting. Each mason would mark the blocks he had finished and was paid according to the final tally. But these signs probably also served to indicate the intended position of the blocks in the wall. So experimental research has shown that an interpretation of these marks as proud signatures like those of an artist can be dispensed with. Masons may have been the most artful of craftsmen, but they too were subject to the orders of the master builder who told them what was needed and supervised their work. At Eltz, meanwhile, things were finally taking shape. Alas, not to everyone's liking. Theodoric's design put stress on familial harmony. If that were not enough, working conditions were anything but easy. And then, of course, there was the money. Building a castle was really expensive. Maybe not as much as building a cathedral, but costs definitely did run high. It would take a lesser noble 10 or 20 years until his castle was finished. In other words, practically all of his life. It's misleading to compare such a site to a modern seaside villa or other real estate projects. In the strictly hierarchical society of the Middle Ages, only about 8 to 10 percent of the elite were able to afford a castle of their own. If you were better off, you could afford on average a workforce of about 90 men. At Castle Eltz, the brothers are still at loggerheads. Back then, there was no health insurance in case of accidents. The builder was under no obligation to compensate for a broken limb if someone fell from a scaffold or was buried under a crumbling wall. Anyway, work had to go on. The schedule was tight since building was restricted to the warm seasons. With the onset of winter, all work had to come to a halt. During the cold season, most of the time was spent inside the walls. So those who could afford it made sure that the interior provided as much comfort as possible. Few original furnishings from medieval castles have survived. But at Gedolon, we get at least an impression of how their rooms might have looked and how much care was applied to, for example, the floor. Walls would have been painted and elaborately decorated. There was hardly a blank wall in medieval castles. Colors were produced from a variety of pigments. Their range, however, wasn't yet as wide as today. Only natural ingredients were used for producing colors. Mineral clay or stones like hematite were pounded in great jars. Then the pigments were grated through a fine sieve. Finally, they were brewed up with water and binders like egg white, resin or oil. And then painted on the walls in decorative patterns. At Castle Eltz, they adorned the walls with floral ornaments. An oriental design brought home by crusaders. The Middle Ages, too, had their trends and fashions. The same goes for the furniture. Yet the overall approach was definitely minimalistic. Rooms weren't richly furnished. If we look up sources from the 15th century, there's a bed and a trunk, sometimes a walled-in cupboard. In the parlor, you'd see planks all around as seats, a table, two chairs, maybe four. So a hall would be very sparsely furnished indeed. The saying, to rise from table, probably really means that you merely had a plank with a stand underneath. Rather like Ikea today. If dinner was finished, you put it aside and had room for dancing. Furniture in those days served a multitude of purposes. Trunks were the most common item. They were used as cases, as safes. Or they were filled with sand for firefighting. And they also doubled as seats. Cupboards did not become standard before the end of the Middle Ages. By then, trunks would be overflowing with garments, which were now produced in abundance, creating the need for ever more storage space. About that time, the simple, sober style gave way to opulent decorations. Furniture became a status symbol. Their elaborate embellishment was meant to emphasise the social standing of their owners. Yet basically, medieval furniture was produced along the principles of today's designers. Form follows function. When they went to sleep, our ancestors preferred four posters like this replica at Castle Eltz. They were medieval reservoirs of heat. To get into bed, you first had to ascend four steps, utilising the warm air that rises. Curtains could then be pulled to keep out the cold and store the warmth. When the autumn cold set in, there were other ways to keep warm. For instance, the bathroom could be used as a living room. Since most of the time, it would have been the only heated room in the castle. To cut costs, the fireplaces in the other rooms would only be fuelled in winter. During autumn, you just put a tub of steaming hot water into the middle of the bathroom, and everyone would assemble around it. Once you had guests, however, there might be the occasional misunderstanding. Medieval bathhouses were notorious for their licentiousness. But there is a time and a place for everything. Conserving energy was an important aspect of life in medieval castles. Building expert Konrad Fischer explains how their inhabitants would cope with the problem. From Christmas onwards, it was bitterly cold. So it took some skill to survive in the chilly rooms. Our knight, of course, would have known a few tricks. At first, he would have covered the walls with hides, probably from wild boars, or just some rags. Once the room was heated, they would heat up too. The next step was wooden panels on the walls, which led to this impression of being in a log cabin. So the room would have been covered with thin wooden panels all around. The panels provided the same effect as the hides. Their surfaces would heat up, since wood is an excellent insulating material. With time, these panels went out of fashion, and were replaced by something new – wall tapestries. With them, our knight was able to cover huge surfaces. And once he lighted a fire in a room, they in turn would heat up and make him feel warm and cosy. Wall tapestries were the comics of the Middle Ages. The stories they told were meant to be instructive as well as entertaining. Their protagonists ranged from Christian saints to pagan half-gods. During the long winter months, there wasn't much to do, and life in a castle could be downright boring. But medieval people were used to putting up with the rhythm of the seasons. They would improvise a concert playing the jaw harp, or the fiddle, or indulge in games. Chess and backgammon were popular among the nobles and their ladies, whereas the servants preferred a round of checkers. They would play at skittles, as well as try their hand at ball games. Summer, however, was the season to go hunting – the classical pastime of a nobleman. The most prestigious variant was falconry. Emperor Frederick II even turned it into an art form. He personally wrote a best-selling book about it, which became the standard manual for falconers until well into the 19th century. But life in a castle wasn't just amusement. Their owners also had to address more serious matters. On average, a castle came under siege about every 75 years. Most of the time there was peace, at least on the surface. Underneath the surface, however, things could be gravely different. Two generations after the three Eltz brothers, conflicts were rife at Castle Eltz. There may have been separate homes for their branches, yet there were just too many individual characters to get along without clashing. In a dynasty like the Eltzes, with their split heritage, there was of course permanent strife of one kind or another. So to keep these conflicts reasonably civilized, so-called letters of party truce were set up, which more or less regulated life as a whole. It was a kind of constitution which even laid down what followed if you had killed a man in hot blood. Like in 1372, when John of the Buffalo Eltzes slew his brother Henry of the Golden Lion Branch, the motive was unclear. But his deed led to a party of truce letter in 1430, which stated, they shall not do each other harm, neither bodily nor concerning their possessions, but protect and help each other as often as it's needed. And if necessary, they would meet in the Great Hall. The Great Hall was the place where the male members of the family would convene to solve any conflicts. It was a kind of property owners meeting. It was a fixed event with a view to solving problems there and then. The hall has two peculiarities. First, there are the fool's heads, which signify or even demand free speech. So all present are not only allowed to speak their minds, but actually compelled to do so without the others taking offense. Second, there's the rose of silence, which signifies that whatever is decided in here will not leave these walls. Unlike the situation at Castle Eltz, the inhabitants of Burghausen in Bavaria had ample space. Burghausen is probably the longest castle ever built. On its promontory, it stretches over more than a kilometer. It once belonged to the Dukes of Bavaria-Landshut, a branch of the Wittelsbach dynasty who ruled Bavaria for centuries. They chose Burghausen as one of their principal residences and turned it into one of the strongest fortifications in the country. The fortress is situated close to an important trade route, the Salzach River. The waterway carried goods from Austria and as far as Italy into all parts of the Holy Roman Empire. Every single ship is obliged to call here. In other words, Burghausen was a toll station. Its account books show that annual revenues were immense and in folklore, the Dukes quickly became the rich Wittelsbachs. Not least because of a special commodity that was transported on the Salzach River. The prime reason why this place was chosen to build a castle was the salt trade. Salt was extremely precious back then and it was traded northwards on the Salzach. And here there was a crossing and an anchorage, which means that the Dukes held the toll rights. And so first the Dukes and then with time the Wittelsbachs too made a fortune here. The main castle at the point of the promontory became the Wittelsbachs' treasury and Burghausen was duly turned into one of the best protected castles in all of the empire. The revenues from the salt trade enabled the Wittelsbachs to live in splendor and to enlarge their castle into a veritable court and a seat of power. Up to 200 men, women and children lived here. The main building was reserved for the family and their immediate entourage. The upper bailey held the alt buildings, a bakery, a brewery and stables for the horses. Their number was even greater than that of the inhabitants. They were kept at hand for transport, hunting and in case of war. In the middle bailey there was accommodation for the court officials, among them the parson. Then there was the arsenal where the weapons were stored along with grain, beer and other vital goods. Grooms, stable boys, cooks, maids and other servants had to make do with the lowest bailey along with the cattle. Daily life was strictly regulated. A court order set the seating plan at the 40 tables during dinner, closely observing the social order. The front tables were reserved for the most important members of the staff. Newcomers such as wandering craftsmen had to sit at the other end of the hall. Feeding so many mouths required a large amount of resources. That's why the Wittelsbachs, like many other castle builders, had decided on a conveniently located site amidst a net of trade routes. That way a constant flow of goods was guaranteed. From Austria and Italy there came luxury items such as salt and silk. Amber would find its way south from the Baltic Sea and you could even order spices and frankincense from as far afield as the Orient. Basic needs, however, were provided by the surrounding land. Each castle was also the economic hub of its area. The peasants of its hinterland were obliged to pay the tithe and had to deliver a fixed amount of their harvests and of their livestock to the lord of the castle. Herbs and vegetables were grown in gardens. A medieval source depicts them as places where the apprentices of the apothecaries meet to pluck herbs and to dig for roots as ingredients for drugs. Hops and grapes were brewed and pressed. In the Middle Ages, people would rather turn to them than drink water, which was often contaminated and a carrier of disease. The variety of fruit and vegetables was considerably less than today. Tomatoes, sweet peppers, potatoes and pumpkins didn't reach Europe's tables until the end of the 15th century, after America had been discovered. So the diet was seasonal and regional. Vegetables were a staple feature of each meal, providing the necessary vitamins. Meat and fish were for most people scarce commodities. However, according to estimates, a nobleman devoured up to 80 kilograms of meat per year, while peasants had to make do with a quarter of that amount. Keeping vituals fresh was a major concern. The most common way to conserve food was to smoke it. Meat and sausages were hung in the fireplace and, when finished, under the ceiling, to keep rats and other vermin from helping themselves. Fruit and vegetables were safely kept in baskets. For conservation, people would also use salt, which was stored in small niches beside the hearth. That way, it stayed dry and did not get lumpy. Medieval castles even provided a kind of refrigerator for perishable vituals like eggs or milk products. With no electricity, the thick, cool walls kept provisions fresh. The basic food back then consisted of cereals, making up about 70% of the daily diet. They were made into bread, but also into porridge and were an important base material for brewing beer, which in medieval households was mostly done by women. So when you sat down for a chat, there were always a few pints at hand. Which leads to another urgent question. Where did you relieve yourself? There was at least one toilet on every floor. A small castle would have had two or three of these. There would have been one in the tower for the watchman to spare him the descent when he was bursting for a pee. There were a few exceptions. For instance, when the tower was in the inner court, which ruled out a garderobe. He had to make do with a bucket then. But generally, you'd find privies throughout. In the big imperial castles, there would have been as many as 20 or 30 of them. Garderobes were built on the outer walls. A door separated them from the inner rooms. Yet in the Middle Ages, it would usually be left open while the lord of the castle went about his business and unashamedly went on conversing with whoever was present. Privacy back then was unknown. As for the guards on duty, there were special installations. This is the seat. A block of stone with a hole in the middle through which the faeces plummeted straight down. And as we can see, this was a man's seat. This little bay carved out of the stone would prevent his penis from being squashed. Most considerate. Often there were small niches at the sides filled with moss or fern for cleaning. And a small hole for ventilation. A very nice example of a privy. The most innovative castle builders were active south of the Alps. Like here at Castel del Monte in southern Italy. It was the brainchild of Emperor Frederick II and was built during the 13th century. It's an enigmatic site. Generations of historians have tried to explain the architectural details of its unusual design. Everywhere inside there are mysterious grooves in the floor. What purpose did they serve? Two researchers believe to have deciphered their meaning. Architects Giuseppe Falacara and Ubaldo Ochinegro have studied Castel del Monte closely for years. They're convinced that water was the central theme of the building. The castle seems to have been nothing less than a virtual spa. At Castel del Monte there are a number of sophisticated technical installations aimed at bringing in water from the surrounding area. They're quite similar to ancient features of this kind. Water was scooped from the ground but there were also cisterns on top of five of the eight towers to collect rainwater. The cisterns were linked to an ingenious system of ducts which carried water into each room of the castle. Clever use of gravity even provided for sufficient pressure all around. It was a masterpiece of engineering. Another detail which long defied explanation are the decorative mouldings which are present throughout the upper floor of the castle. The architectural feature which immediately caught our eye was the mouldings in the upper floor. They are actually cylindrical channels which were used to collect the humidity in the rooms. The condensate from the walls would trickle down into these hollow spaces and was then conducted away. So the mouldings were practical and decorative at the same time. When it comes to European castles Castel del Monte stands out. The rest don't come close to this level of technical sophistication. Even some 100 years after the Italian wellness temple had been built up north they were still grappling with the most basic problems. More often than not the castle's inhabitants sat in the dark even during daylight since all openings would be sealed up with wooden shutters parchment or straw to keep out drafts and cold air. There were few castle owners who could afford window panes. In the 14th century if budgets were tight crown glass windows provided a way out. They were much simpler to produce than their larger counterparts. First a glass blower formed a ball of 10 to 15 centimetres in diameter. Then a specially trained master glazier moulded the ball into a crown window. The small panes were then fixed into a lead frame. The overall window became a typical feature of late medieval castles, churches as well as the houses of wealthy citizens. So thanks to glass windows people in central Europe no longer had to choose between light and warmth. Crown glass windows sealed up the openings while still letting in daylight. In the 15th and 16th centuries crown glass windows became industrialised so a large number of people could afford them. These windows also had the advantage of reducing pressure by dispersing it over many small surfaces instead of one large pane. And given the lead frame they also provided much more stability. The spread of crown glass windows helped to raise comfort levels of late medieval castles considerably. The royal castle of Vincennes, east of Paris too, became ever more luxurious since its initial conception as a hunting lodge. Over time the chateau became one of the prime residences of the royal family. It still boasts the highest medieval donjon ever built. It covered so much ground that it could house the entire household of the French court. The finest sculptors and masons were given the task of turning the castle's living rooms into similes of gothic basilicas. Near the end of his life Francis King Charles V ordered a magnificent chapel to be built at Vincennes. The immense windows are the highlight of the design. They depict the revelation of Saint John. But the benefactors too had themselves immortalised in the images. Tournaments are of French origin. Today they're an integral part of our conception of life at a castle. Yet tournaments rarely took place there. Most of them were held near cities where there was more space and more amenities to house the many participants. Given the comparative smallness of the castle, staging large-scale events like a tournament was out of the question. Instead there were feasts and banquets. And the hosts pulled out all the stops. There were pheasants, quails, quints, figs, dates, raisins, even cranes and swans. However, a contemporary noted whatever the number of courses there's no festive hospitality without good bread and wine. White bread was a rare delicacy back then. In the 15th century the Dukes of Borghausen were famous for their fancy dress balls and carousals. They indulged in every conceivable luxury as well as in some rather bizarre entertainment. The account books of Borghausen list a monthly salary for a court dwarf called Christoffel and a jester named Hamel. The drinking tally for the year 1477 is 1185 buckets of beer and nearly twice as much of wine. Yet they also record that revenue fell far short of expenditure. Especially Duchess Hedwig who lived at the castle from 1479 to 1502 was a truly big spender. Whereas her husband was rather tight-fisted and more than a little annoyed with his wife's carelessness. The Duchess preferred to cater for her daily needs by ordering many items from the city of Landshut, a two-day march from the castle. The local products simply weren't up to her ladyship's high standards. So more and more often the castle's coffers were empty. There was also a constant supply of drugs from the apothecaries in Landshut to cure headaches and hangovers. Candid fruit was the aspirin of the Middle Ages. But there was no cure for the galloping consumption afflicting the castle's finances. In addition the house of Wittelsbach fell increasingly into debt through constant wars and was divided by inheritance disputes. In the end they had to give up Borghausen and their former residence sank into oblivion. It was a fate shared by many castles. Yet somehow they live on. Castles have always been, have always encouraged ideas both kind of intellectual and sort of fantasy ideas and even in the Middle Ages the idea of a castle was almost as important as the fabric and the symbolism of castle, the association with chivalry and things that were kind of of the mind rather of substance. Castles have left their imprint on Europe far beyond the Middle Ages. Some of them have been rebuilt and are still used as homes. They are a testimony to medieval civilization and a visible link to our own past. Their ruins remind us of a colourful chapter of history and even today they cast a magnetic spell on us. In the 19th century castles were once again all the rage a legend taking hold throughout Central Europe leading to new castles being built using medieval designs. By then of course castles were no longer constructed as a means of defence. They were nothing more than gigantic follies sprung from a romantic glorification of the Middle Ages like here in Neuschwanstein. But they're also proof of the unbroken fascination we continue to feel at the site of these medieval bastions of power.