This morning we had breakfast in the sunroom. See the top photo for Concetta enjoying her coffee in the serenity of this delightful morning room. Right outside the sunroom, we could hear water trickling in the pond. And, as you can see, the whole yard is just a mass of flowers. Our breakfast was just the way we like it, simple and nutritious. I especially loved the yoghurt. And though English folks generally struggle with furnishing drinkable coffee, Wendy’s coffee was just great. We found ourselves not wanting to break the spell so we lingered over breakfast longer than usual.
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Wow! I expected to see a stately house full of dusty old furniture, but was I off the mark. Burghley House was built by William Cecil, the first Lord of Burghley in 1555! This Cecil chap was no ordinary rich guy. He was Lord High Treasurer and Chief Minister to Queen Elizabeth the 1st. Good ol’ Cecil was also the guy who was responsible, to a large degree, in Mary Queen of Scots losing her Queenly head. The guides said that Queen Elizabeth was a tad miffed at him when she later regretted executing her cousin and banished him from court for a time. However, he was so important to her that he was soon back.
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They were definitely getting my attention at this point, especially when we came to the snooker table that was twice as large as any table I ever seen before. And, this gigantic table had been crafted in 1859 from oak taken from a sunken, and subsequently raised, British Warship that had lain on the bottom for fifty years.
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The house was just so fascinating and elaborately furnished that I was just totally enthralled throughout the whole tour. I sure wish they would have allowed photographs, at least so you could see the frolicking naked people on the ceilings.
Because I love old houses and truly a historic preservationist at heart, one of the most exciting aspects of the house, for me, is the fact that from 1555 to 1981 the house was in the same family. Can you imagine that? Over four hundred years of family history in one house. That, I'm sure, is where a few dozen of the portraits that hang everywhere are from. Every family member for four centuries has had a oil done of them. Because the UK exacts such heavy death duties, in 1981 the heirs were forced, more or less, to turn the property into a trust and make it available to the public. The last actual owners live in -- any guesses? -- Oregon, USA. Other family members live in Canada. But one granddaughter lives at Burghley in special apartments that have been arranged for through the trust. I suppose the family couldn't bear to give up all contact with this awesome piece of real estate.
By tea time, Concetta and I had decided to have our big meal of the day in Burghley House’s dining hall. The dinning hall overlooks the rose garden and fountain (see photo 6) and provided an unbeatable setting for our dinner. Concetta finally got to partake of the lamb, something she’s been talking about since we were in Wales where all the sheep make their home. I, on the other hand, had the venison and dumpling pie with a football-sized bowl of veggies on the side. It was truly terrific. To reward ourselves for all the walking we’ve been doing, for dessert we shared a portion of “sticky toffee pudding,” which, if you’ve never had any, is like saying you’ve never made love. That dessert is FANTASTIC! The only reason I didn’t lick the plate is Concetta would have jabbed me with a fork.
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Ciao, tutti.
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