Questioning History

My relatives, who have lived most of their lives in the Lincolnshire village of Tattershall, were quite unaware that it is also home to one of England’s most important colonies of newt, the rare Great Crested species, whose environment is actually more protected than their own. So why did they not know this?

It’s because of location-complacency syndrome (LCS), a condition I have identified through occasional observation that we are inclined to become so comfortable in our surroundings that eventually we accept them unquestioningly. Familiarity - with our neighbours, our circumstances and the day-to-day politics of our existence - leads us to a preoccupation with the here-and-now and a corresponding lack of curiosity for the substrata of history upon which our places are built.

For a small village, stranded in the middle of seemingly endless, flat fenlands, Tattershall has unexpected historical substrata. For example, alongside its unremarkable domestic buildings stands the 130 foot-high castle tower – built by Ralph, 3rd Lord Cromwell, Treasurer of England from 1433 to 1443 - considered by some to be the finest piece of medieval brickwork in England. Local residents may well take this exquisite building for granted but first-time visitors will be astonished when, after miles of architecture-free driving, they see a structure more than two storeys high looming at the side of the road. From the top of the tower, on a clear day, it is possible to see in the distance Lincolnshire’s two other tall buildings, Lincoln Cathedral and Boston Stump.

The defensive walls of the castle were eventually pulled down so as to remove any possible threat to Parliamentary rule - despite the fact that they were never built to withstand determined invasion. Nor was the location important strategically - until the 20^th Century when the Royal Air Force claimed the surrounding land for airfields. Now the castle sits at the heart of a military defensive system and squadrons of latest generation Eurofighter Typhoon jets roar around its tower and quaint jousting-ground.

But why did Ralph Cromwell - who was, for a time, the second most powerful man in England - build such a magnificent, fortified residence in such an unlikely location, thinly populated as it was and surrounded by marshland? This, after all, was no weekend retreat, no holiday home or retirement idyll. This was a monumental statement of wealth and influence far away from London - the seat of his power. That was one of the questions I came away with despite listening attentively to the audio-guide. But you can’t ask questions of an audio-guide – and it’s no use asking the locals: they’ve got LCS.

The day after my visit to the castle I woke up to the sound of World War Two - the thrum of Spitfire engines, so familiar to schoolboys of my era. I imagined that the TV was tuned to a history channel showing monotone movies of the Battle of Britain but the reality was startling. I drew back the curtain and flinched as an actual, real-life Spitfire sped by, rolling over close enough for me to give the thumbs-up sign to the crew.

As I walked out that day, Spitfires and Typhoons criss-crossing the sky, I passed the remains of a college that Cromwell built, now tucked behind a bungalow, off the main road, beyond the 15^th Century stone cross which marks the 12^th Century charter given for the market. I was on my way to visit the huge collegiate church, with its important medieval features and the gravestone of celebrated local resident, Tom Thumb.

No-one famous, powerful or important lives in Tattershall now - unless you count those privileged newts who have taken up residence in the castle moat; but, given its intriguing history and its significant present, the place deserves some respect – especially from the locals.