5/5 Trevor DC G. 5 months ago on Google
Most
beloved
Elizabethan
period
stately
house
of
my
youth.
I
loved
this
place
as
a
child.
The
portraits
of
Elizabeth
the
First.
The
Rainbow
and
Ermine
portraits.
The
floors.
The
long
corridors.
The
furniture.
The
gardens
with
their
walkways.
Beautiful
all.
The
grand
17th
century
Hatfield
House,
in
my
native
Hertfordshire,
England.
With
its
wonderfully
and
beautifully
imagined
extravagant
oak
shell
carvings
over
the
fireplace,
made
by
John
Bucke.
As
a
child
I
recall
very
vividly
being
told
off,
scolded
with
a
wagged
finger
by
a
lady
working
here
uoon
their
staff.
I
went
red
with
embarrassment
at
the
time
my
mother
recalled.
I
had
been
unceremoniously
and
most
hurridly
ushered
away
from
a
period
chair
with
a
rope
across
it,
I
was
approaching
to
get
up
onto.
I
was
small
and
tired
and
I
thought
to
sit
a
second
or
two
only,
in
a
nearby
chair
to
me
in
one
of
the
long
corridors
at
edge.
A
dutiful
volunteer
lady
rushed
over
and
stopped
me
physically.
My
mother
explaining
to
me
afterwards,
so
I
only
later
understood
why.
My
mother
apologised
to
the
lady,
and
had
a
long
conversation
then
with
her
over
in
a
corner.
While
keeping
a
constant
eye
upon
me.
I
didnβt
understand
it
then
why
exactly
I
was
in
trouble,
told
off.
When
my
mother
recounted
the
time
again
after
passed
years
to
me
I
knew,
felt
embarassed
all
over
again.
The
kind
timely
intervening
lady
had
stopped
me
from
seating
myself
in
a
chair
made
of
the
Elizabethan
period,
that
had
a
strange
and
somewhat
rather
chilling
defensive
purpose
in
a
house
of
that
period.
Whereby
they'd
direct
or
invite
persons
to
sit
there,
anyone
within
it
who
was
perhaps
a
threat
like
a
robber
villain
or
such
there
in
the
house
as
uninvited
dangerous
guest.
If
they
say
had
persons
of
the
house
at
sword
or
pistol
point.
It
apparently
had
a
secret
mechanism
within
the
chair
whereby
on
pressure
to
the
chair
cushioned
pad
or
back
some
kind
of
a
sharp
item
moved
outwards
into
the
person
sitting
there
to
stab
them.
After
that
I
think
it
was
decided
to
move
that
item
from
the
collection
upon
open
show
to
the
visiting
general
public.
And
this
was
long
years
before
health
and
safety
considerations
were
made
in
anything
at
all
day
to
day
in
the
UK.
My
mother
had
suggested
they
think
about
considering
removal
in
case
such
an
accident
repeated
ever
again.
With
another
child.
And
said
she
thought
the
single
rope
across
the
front
of
the
chair
from
the
arms,
and
a
do
not
sit
sign
written
and
placed
upon
it
was
simply
not
enough
for
the
given
potential
danger!
I
call
it
my
lucky
escape
number
one.
(Lucky
two
and
three
were
not
being
killed
by
a
car
crash,
and/or
a
bullet
ricochet
in
the
butts
of
a
firing
range
in
the
TA,
during
infantry
soldier
live
fire
training
in
1990.
In
1992
I
then
survived
the
IRA
pub
bomb
in
Long
Acre,
London.
I'm
very
hard
to
kill
it
seems.)
The
beautiful
and
most
striking
Marble
Hall
at
Hatfield
House
today
remains
much
as
the
great
Robert
Cecil,
the
1st
Earl
of
Salisbury,
built
it
back
in
1611.
There
is
the
ornate
original
Jacobean
Grand
Staircase
(1611)
at
this
Hatfield
House
too,
which
was
the
home
of
Robert
Cecil.
A
staircase
with
eye
catching
and
elaborately
decorated
cherubs
and
lions
upon
it.
One
stair
post
even
oddly
in
homage,
has
a
carving
of
the
house
Head
Gardener,
John
Tradescant.
A
favourite
of
the
master
of
the
house,
and
one
who
was
much
trusted.
And
who
even
travelled
the
far
world
collecting
new
and
extravagant
rare
plants
for
Cecilβs
new
gardens
at
Hatfield.
The
most
prized
possession
of
the
house
historically
speaking
is
the
famous
Rainbow
Portrait
of
Elizabeth
1st.
It
pictures
her
victory
over
the
Spanish
Armada
fleet
who
had
been
sent
on
Papal
orders
to
take
her
throne
and
restore
the
country
back
to
the
fold
of
the
bosom
of
the
Roman
Catholic
mother
Church
authority
control.
And
do
away
with
the
Reformation
brought
in
by
King
Henry
the
Eighth,
Elizabeth's
father.
I
must
confess
to
all
I
am
still
firmly
in
love
with
this
whole
place
decades
on
still
later.
Would
that
I
could
walk
again
in
the
gardens
as
I
did
when
a
child
in
the
early
nineteen
seventies.
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