The Giant of Rowlands Castle

Once upon a time, there lived a giant in Rowlands Castle. Genealogy research employs science, rigor, and is based on facts. Fairy tales typically begin with “once upon a time.” I’m not saying this story is complete “make-believe” because often the most unbelievable legends contain a nugget of truth. Herein lies the tale. You are free to embrace or discard any portions you choose.

We start with the introduction of a real person, Charles Rogers Cotton (1797-1878). Charles was a Fellow of Stansted College in the village of Rowlands Castle, Hampshire, England. He was an accomplished artist, writer, and poet. His account of “A Visit to Rowlands Castle” was published in 1861. Instead of having me tell you the tale, I will let Charles explain.

A VISIT TO ROWLANDS CASTLE – 1860 (by Charles Rogers Cotton)

The little village of Rowlands Castle, in Hampshire, situated about eleven miles from Portsmouth, and about the same distance from Chichester, is celebrated in history as the residence of a grim giant, who inhabited a castle stuck on the top of a high mound with a moat around it, and drawbridges and all the other appurtenances necessary for the security of its liege lord. It is a great many years since these things were in existence, and it is also a great many years since Old Time set to work and crumbled the edifice so completely away that nothing remains to tell of its past history.

    Darkness surrounds us; seeking, we are lost 
    On Hampshire's wilds, amid Brigantian coves, 
    Where the sea-born man of the Western Isles, 
    Slackens his course, to mark those rude-built piles, 
    In time and shadows of traditions lost.

The last we hear of the giant is that the castle was taken from him about 700 years ago, in the time of Henry II., and that he himself was slain in mortal combat by one Orlando Rowland, who swam across the British Channel, and landing, took forcible possession of the castle and called it after its own name.

What drew Orlando to this shore was the hearing of a lady being confined within it, whose release he was resolved to accomplish. Hearing the shrieks of a female – drawing his trusty sword – he sprang forward to follow the sound; the shrieks were stifled, but the voices of men drew near, and they seemed in hot altercation. Rowland laid himself down among some tall rank grass of the wild, and could distinctly hear two persons disputing in high Norman accent; the one expostulated on behalf of a captive lady, the other insisted upon his right to extort a compliance with his dishonourable intentions.

The screams of the female being renewed, no longer left Rowland in doubt as to the identity of the place, and he lost not a moment in shaping his course according to the sound, which led him to one of the turrets. Rowland feared not the face or arm of man (but he afterwards confessed that early impressions of supernatural agency daunted his courage); again, he recollected that the gleaming counterspell, the steel of the mighty was in his hand, and he pressed onward to unravel the mystery. A faint glimmering of light guided him, where, with disordered dress, disheveled tresses, and a lovely countenance marked by tears, he found in a large apartment a female stretched upon some grass, nearly exhausted by violent efforts.

On seeing Rowland, she attempted to rise, saying –”If you come to end my life, cheerfully shall I meet the blow – death is my only refuge”. “Yield not to despair, lady,” he replied: “Rowland comes to release you – but remain as you are just now.”

Rowland, with an air of authority, then stalked into a vault where the giant was seated, hotly debating with another man of huge form. Rowland soon made them acquainted with his demand upon them, and whilst speaking the giant made a thrust at him, but Rowland being the dexterous swordsman, soon laid his adversary at his feet; the other calling for a parley, offered no opposition to the restoration of the lady, whom Rowland soon released, and sent her back to France, from whence she had been treacherously decoyed from the castle of her father.

But Rowland could not have remained there long, for Henry II., was rigorous in demolishing all the fortified castles which had been erected near the coast, as being so many sanctuaries to free-booters and rebels, and permitted no fortress to remain in the custody of those whom he had reason to suspect.

Other Tales

The origin of the name Rowlands Castle remains a mystery, as does the true story of the giant. Some versions claim that the Rowland who saved the damsel in distress was the actual giant. Just how large was this giant? Was he as large as depicted in the image featured above, much like the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk? Or, was he merely a 6-foot man in a village of 5-foot people?

If only….

King Henry II destroyed numerous castles in the 12th century in an attempt to centralize his power. Rowland’s Castle was among those he demolished, and today no stones remain. Rowland’s Castle Brickworks had a terracotta rendition of what it believed the castle once looked like. Using that image, here is what it could have looked like today if it had been maintained throughout the centuries.