Birthday weekend in St Omer

A great little Normandy town with a plethora of cafe's and restaurants. We finally nailed a weekend that the Reverend could be spared from his parish to pop over to France.  It turned out to be a birthday weekend with M, R and Buttercup celebrating their anniversaries. M's began in rather a disastrous way with an enormous thunderstorm flooding the dungeon level of our house; after a herculean effort to get all our bits and bobs up onto another floor so the landlord could get in to remove the carpet etc while we were away, we finally departed only 50 mins later than we'd hoped!

Things were tense in the car as we rushed to drop Charlie off at kennels we'd never been to before in the heart of Hertfordshire. We were meeting Buttercup and Willow there - no they hadn't been kenneled for the week but had been in London staying with the Rev and R, they needed to be in our car for the Chunnel crossing now that you have to give IDs when booking as you do with flights. Chester and Lulu had already been dropped off.

A call to Eurotunnel revealed that the tickets were valid for 2hrs after the booked crossing time so I relaxed a little.  Buttercup had her last glimpse of the Shard and the Gerkin on the horizon down the Thames as we drove over the Dartford crossing.  Oh woe another straw for the camel's back - they were stacking the M20 so from Junction 8-9 it was closed. (This is when they park up all the trucks who can't get onto their booked Ferry crossings because of strikes or bad weather. They queue on the motorway so Dover isn't swamped. No signs to tell you where to go though!) The Sat Nav found a detour through Ashford for us to be able to duck back onto the M20 after the closed section so we made it to check-in on time - without a speeding ticket. We even beat R and Rev who had tripped round through Dover - they got on the train just behind us.

Drive past shots in Calais of the Town Hall(Top) and the Opera(Below)

We decided to stop in Calais both ways; poor little town is mostly ignored by us as we blat off down the motor ways to somewhere more exotic.  In the rash of disasters we hadn't had anything more than a cup of tea so we stopped at a Flunch for lunch. Not sure where the name came from and probably won't try to find out considering some of the options we all nominated.

Left: Birthday Orangina at Flunch.                     Right:Petal's look of Joy when she realises the Vegie buffet is all you can eat!

St Omer is only a 45 min drive from Calais and has 67 restaurants in a town of 15000 people, slightly excessive I think. M was in charge of choosing where to go for his birthday tea and R was for his the next night.
We all decided that Buttercup's birthday tea, since on a Sunday night, was going to be at L'artista - back in Watford. In all our many visits, we have never been there with someone when it was their birthday to have the thrill of the saucepan banging happy birthday song where the whole restaurant joins in and you get free cake!
One exquisite bakery, behind the town hall,  provided a birthday cake afternoon tea - one treat we didn't buy was a giant raspberry macaron with a plastic tube full of raspberry coulis to squirt in as you eat it.

M's birthday fish in Basil sauce had bones but his gingerbread tiramisu was interesting. Petal loved her sorbet.
My entrée was an artichoke cheesecake with a balsamic sauce and goat cheese topping - R had the same - yum.

Willow's salmon with basil sorbet was interesting.  R proudly carrying the box of b-day cake back to the Ibis.
The restaurant was called Petite Montmatre and had paintings of places we recognised from our stay there in 2013.

Rev told us the centre bottle was designed for the shape of a woman's body - maybe Leelee's but I am certainly more of the Orangina(+glass) - not quite the 2L bottle as R risked his life by suggesting. Rev's new nick name may have to be Perrier.
Right: Rob's birthday restaurant - La Brasserie Audomaroise - brewed its own beer.  Instead of adding vodka to the cordials listed add lemonade for a Diablo.  M ordered a mint one??#@*!!

M's main choice of beef and gingerbread stew (the triangle toasts top left are ginger bread)got first place for the mains ratings - My risotto had nutmeg sprinkled over and made it amazing. Neither Willow's pizza, R's Flamuluchen or Petal's lasange got more than good. Rev's Nicoice salad and Buttercup's steak sauce were considered rather brill.

Birthday man had an apple sorbet concoction and David and Buttercup seemed very pleased with Pina Colada choice.
Petal couldn't finish her choc milkshake and only managed half of her salted caramel sundae. Willow loved her coconut ice cream with hot chocolate fudge sauce. M's profriteroles were gobbled up but my pistachio creme brulée was off.

The Rev made a wildly English choice by getting chips from a Fritterie for one lunch, he shared them as we had a little picnic in the Cathedral's rose garden and like the loaves and fishes, they satisfied all.

Picnic in the rose garden.   St Omer Notré Dame Cathedral

Colourful fruit and vege in the markets

Beautiful fresh flowers and the tomatoes looked good enough for a decorative display too.

Flags and food shops were everywhere.  Right:  Top of the town hall - Coffee grinder - towering over an alley.

There were a lot of English speaking folk around us and I only found one person(serving in a bakery) who wouldn't respond to my very poor attempts to communicate, thank goodness Willow was able to buy us lunch!. There was a Jazz festival on and the band marching around the markets even sang in English.

Jazz floated through the night air and through our hotel windows providing a lovely lullaby after a hectic day.
Willow, Petal and Buttercup stayed up a bit longer and tried to get M a Jazz hat for his collection but they were only available with an all area pass - making them rather expensive!

We popped into the Cathedral to hear the amazing organ (a 19thC Cavaillé-Coll) being played at the end of Mass on Sunday morning, both M and I remarked how incredible it was that we could tell when the Lord's prayer was being said even though we couldn't understand a single word - the cadence and rhythm were just the same.

 The Rubens was huge but seemed unfinished - its position made it visible down one side of the long Nave.

Some of the treasures of St Omer Notré Dame.  The portrait on the left looks like a sketch of the shroud of Turin.
The beautiful Madonna to the right was locked away in a side chapel.

To make us feel even more at home - a huge poster of Shakespeare covered the wall of the town library which was advertising that the curator had discovered a copy of one of the First Folios in the library and had created a display of all the 'Anglo Saxon' works it owned. This included a book published by Benjamin Franklin, philosophy by Francis Bacon and an article written by Thomas Jefferson. (Not so sure how well the two Americans would like being described as Anglo Saxons.)

Left: Shakespeare poster overlooks the huge markets. One of many rotisserie trucks - the fat dripped down onto par boiled potatoes and by lunch time they were crisp -massive lines around noon.   Right: Paella pans and Osso bucco stew,  The market fountain and a marsh boat full of local produce for sale.

The town is on the border to Flanders so the roof step design common throughout the Netherlands is also here.
A few of the old buildings are still in disrepair from war damage.  Look at all the crooked chimney pots Granny!

The little town was once at the cross roads of trade routes from Rome to Britain and Paris to Amsterdam. In the 1300s it used to be one of Europe's 10 largest towns. Their specialty was textiles.  The markets today are full of fruit, vegetable, flower and meat stalls.  There were a couple of plastic table cloth stalls with hundreds of rolls available to choose from and one lonely little linen and embroidery stall right in the middle. There were also all the usual clothing stalls, common as far away as Parklea markets in western Sydney.  The markets sit in a large square in front of the hotel de ville (town hall) which is affectionately known as the Moulin a café (coffee grinder - perhaps for what goes in there as much as for how it looks).  The rest of the time this huge square is a car park. There is a busy shopping street or two leading from the 20 hectare public gardens to the canal at the bottom of the hill the town is built on. The River Aa flows out of the region's marshes to the coast at Gravelines just north of Calais.

Left - What we thought was the canal of the River Aa was just a large drain that runs into it.
Right: Woke too early for conversation so strolled around town with M's camera - 6am in the grey light before the sun had peeked over the rooftops.

There are lots of things to do in the region of St Omer but we decided only to do one and puddle around the eateries and drinkeries telling wild stories the rest of the time - oolala we may becoming a little French. One of the stories to come out of St Omer is that during WWII the legless British flying Ace, Douglas Bader had to bail out during a dog fight over the town.  He lost his artificial leg as he parachuted out so while he was being treated in the towns' infirmary the Brits dropped in his spare leg as they flew over to bomb Berlin. Another was that the swordsman Henry VIII bought over from France, with his shiny - super sharp sword, to execute his 2nd wife, came from this town.

Help yourself ice cream and slushy machines on the footpaths.  Most have signs asking customers to wait for assistance.

An old quarry made into public gardens.  The memorial on the right was to Charles Jonnart, a republican who toiled to make St Omer a 'Grand Ville' again (1857 - 1927) - he was instrumental in the creation of the Jardin Public.

A sanitised cattle car display to see how the political and ethnic prisoners were transported in WWII by the Nazis.

The one excursion we made was to the site of the Nazi liquid oxygen plant at d'Eperlecques (Le Blockhaus). It was also designed to build and launch the V2 rockets.  Many V1s(buzz bombs - you were safe as long as you could hear it) were let loose from this place but the allies dropped lots of Tall Boy bombs on it, damaging it so much that it was eventually unfit for purpose. Sitting looking at the huge concrete edifice that took many of the lives forced to build it, cold chills ran down the spine. The holes where hoses, for air and coolants, would have tentacled out were the reality that all sci-fi war fantasies are built on.  Another sight along a similar vein is La Coupole - it was built for the V2 in 1944 but is now a museum to the history of the space race during those dark days. The caves where the rockets were built by concentration camp labour are now flooded and deep in Southern Grermany.

A one man sub used to patrol the Normandy coast to spot and English invasion and sink cargo ships.

Old dud bombs from the heavy bombing employed by the allies that made the site unusable for rocket launching.

Billions of litres of concrete was made, piped and spread by some volunteer and slave labour. This enormous edifice is surely the  inspiration for all the war and scifi  baddie's head quarters in movies since WWII. 

Top Left the scale of the truck gives some idea of the size of the building.  Top right: Reinforcing steel taller than Petal.
Below: The black plaque is to honour the five German Jews buried in the concrete foundations below the spot.  This was the door the V2 rockets were meant to come out of for launching - when the Nazis cut their losses and kept the place only for the production of liquid oxygen. They sealed it up to give more strength to the structure.

Right: Hardware for the Liquid Oxygen fuel manufacture.  Centre: Scale model of the V2  Right:  Tall boy bomb that destroyed the site. (365 were dropped)

Walking out of the gloom - a creepy interior.

V1 launch ramp - these dodelbugs or buzz bombs were considered to be the lesser of the two evils.

On the way home we stopped in at the Calais town centre - it is so good to know what the soaring red brick tower, so prominent from the Ferry as it pulls into port, is attached to. It is the Town hall.  The Opera house was also impressive.  The residential areas you have to drive through to get to these gems are surely the ugliest in France - I think they must have smuggled out an eastern block architect!

Birthday lunch for Buttercup in Calais - more moules for the Rev.

We wandered down to the beach and were pleased to find beautiful fine golden sand. The wind whipped it around a bit and it was cold - a strange sensation to have on a bikini clad beach. Older residents and young families squatted in their beach huts or huddled behind shelter walls made with 1.5m stakes and brightly stripped canvas lengths.

Beautiful golden sand.  Those aren't mountains on the horizon but British weather!

Happy birthday Buttercup in L'artista.

I was sad driving onto the Eurotunnel train knowing it was our last trip in the trusty Audi across the channel. Oh how I will miss popping over to the continent.  It takes the same time to drive from Cambridge to Paris as it does to drive from north Sydney to Canberra! Such a disappointing comparison.

Even after the rather rocky start - our Birthday weekend in St Omer was fabulous - thanks Rev for getting a stand in for your Sunday responsibilities and R for arranging the accommodation.
Thanks to the Ibis breakfast buffet, I've bought a Madeleine tray and am waiting for a good moment to try out my latest delicious discovery.  Yes that is right - cake for breaky! A French lady beside me cut off a piece, spread it with preserve then with her fork, in a very practiced manner, dipped it in her coffee before gobbling. Is this taking dunking a step too far?

Saffron Walden

Months ago M and I visited Audley House, one of the English Heritage collection, and passed roads signs to this market town. It is about a 20 min drive from Cambridge.

The Tudor looking town hall with Georgian addition stands over the market square.

Saffron is one of those spices that conjures up pictures of hot Arabian nights so we wondered why a village in the east of England would have this name. We decided to visit one weekend to see if it was full of yellow cottages, spice houses or if there were acres of crocus flowers in the surrounding rolling fields.

No saffron to be seen in the rolling fields as we drove in but there were a few yellow/orange houses.

The Walden part of the name is very old - there is a ruin in the town called Walden Castle so it was probably the family name of the movers and shakers in early Norman times.

It was a drizzly sort of day but there were still lots of people wandering around the market stalls.  I stopped and bought a fabulous foccacia and giant vegie samosas (two different meals!) at at bread stall there. The owner said they are trying to get into the Cambridge markets too so I'll be keeping an eye out for them.

The embossed plaster work is a bit of a thing around the village.
This thought to be Cromwell's headquarters at the beginning of the civil war.

The town really came into prominence in the civil war years, it's said that Cromwell had his head quarters here for a while.  The puritans had a big influence and the Quaker church is still a big part of life here.  The Friends school has produced most of the town's famous folk. It holds regular vintage and antique fairs that are well advertised around the county.

Maple and Willow found a neat little boutique with very well priced pretties. After looking through an ancient second hand book store and a second hand goods store located in the building that Cromwell used for his headquarters we wandered up to the huge church.  We arrived as the new town Mayor and her newly blessed councilors left and had countless photos on the stairs.  The rain started up again so we scurried off to find another entry.

The church looks big enough to be a Cathedral but isn't. 

The stained glass was glowing even though it was so grey outside.
A very round-head sort of religious piece - see how far away the king is from Christ.

Left: front door recently exited by the new Mayor and her parade.  Right: Beautiful stained glass runs the length of the church

 The tummies were rumbling so we went back to a very cute looking Pub we had seen, the Cross keys, and were pleased to find that the menu was very modern - and delicious!

Loving the corner seats. little boutique (Ruby Room) just across the road. Path to the Fairycroft car park behind the girls.
The building is over 850 yrs old and is said to be haunted by Cromwell's mistress - not so puritan then?

The food was really interesting. My mushroom pie had a bread crust and a delicious truffle sauce served with it.
No saffron specialties though.

Eventually I asked in a rather niffty bottle/kitchen shop just off the market square about locally grown saffron and was directed to the information centre on the square. They were selling little golden tin boxes of locally grown saffron - £10 for about 20 strands. According to a Telegraph article from Nov 2014(quoted below), a Mr David Smale tried growing some in his backyard then found a medieval text on the subject in the local library. His Saffron sells for £15 for 20g in Fortnum and Masons.

Left: Great public loos in the library too.        Right: SW coat of arms - spot the crocus - on a rubbish bin.

I wish I could say that the saffron rice I made that night was worth every penny - but I really have a hopeless palate for this spice and struggled to smell let alone taste any difference. Mind you I think I botched its use, after reading  'The Saffron Trail' by Rosanna Ley I think I should have soaked the stamen in wine or something(Oh Maggie how I miss your Verjuice) for 30 mins or so before using.  I'll have to try that another time. The Samosas however were very good.

Photo from the Telegraph - Rex Features By Agency 11:54PM GMT 05 Nov 2014

Saffron Walden is a very pretty little town with plenty of pay and display parking a short walk from the centre, lots of pretty gardens and interesting shops. A wonderful weekend outing.

A holiday read - set in Morocco and Cornwall with threads of twisted family secrets that never quite get unraveled. Touches on US pacifist movement during the Vietnam war years, saffron growing in Cornwall, photography, cooking school in Marrakesh and of course a few Mills and Boon romance movements - both past and present.

Putting saffron back into Saffron Walden

With the help of a medieval text, an Essex farmer has revived a tradition in the heartland of production in Tudor times

Saffron has returned to the fields of England for the first time in 200 years — and only a stone’s throw from the town of Saffron Walden, the heart of British production in Tudor times.

David Smale, a farmer, has cultivated his crop at a secret location in Essex.

Saffron-growing died out in Britain as the painstaking harvesting methods became too expensive to compete with cheap imports from Iran and Kashmir.

However, Mr Smale is determined to revive the centuries-old tradition and grow his business into a full-scale commercial enterprise.

With a gram (0.035oz) of spice selling for up to £75, saffron is more expensive than gold because the harvesting is so laborious. Each crocus flower yields just three stigma, which are picked by hand then dried to create the saffron strands.

“I live in Essex and my family has a connection to Cornwall, two places that were big on saffron production centuries ago.

“I looked into who was growing saffron and to my surprise I found there was no one doing it. I was told the practice had died out a few hundred years ago which I thought was ridiculous, so I decided to give it a go.”

He added: “For the first few years I had some successes and some disasters but there was no one to turn to for advice – I was learning as I went along.

“The turning point came when I found a medieval text for growing saffron in the archives of the library at Saffron Walden.

“It dated back to the 1600s and confirmed everything I had learnt so I knew I was doing it right.”

It was then that he decided to turn his hobby into a business, English Saffron.

“Each year we get bigger and bigger and by next season we are hoping to be able to employ people.

“To have that industry back in Essex after all these years is amazing.” As well as tending to his crop of crocuses, David runs a geophysics consultancy.

The crocuses are planted in summer then harvested in late autumn. Tens of thousands of flowers have to be hand picked at just the right moment then dissected to remove the three red stigmas from each one.

The strands are dried on racks for 24 hours then put into storage containers, ready for packing.

A 0.2g packet of Mr Smale’s saffron sells in Fortnum & Mason for £15.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/earth/agriculture/farming/11212315/Putting-saffron-back-into-Saffron-Walden.html

Hatfield House

Willow and Buttercup in the Palace gardens.

A friend of Willow's - who will be referred to as Buttercup for the purposes of this journal - arrived at Heathrow very, very early. Willow stayed in London with the Rev overnight and did us all proud by getting up to catch a 4:30am bus out to meet her. Our mission for the day was to keep Buttercup shining until a normal bedtime hour for ease of transition into the northern hemisphere timezone.

We have often driven past the brown tourist route signs pointing to Hatfield House when driving down to the city on the A1. The scene that always pops into my head is from Cate Blanchett's 'Elizabeth' where the young Princess, living in constant fear of her life, is told 'The Queen is dead. God save the Queen'. Legend (it seems unlikely that she was sitting outside reading in November!) has it that she was sitting under a tree in the gardens reading her Bible and her response to this historic greeting was 'It is the Lord's doing and it is marvellous in our eyes.'
Psalm 118:23.

Left: The tree that QEII planted in 2012 at an approximate site of the Oak where QEI was supposedly told of Mary's death.
Right: From the front steps of Hatfield House - the Elizabeth Oak field is away to the right.

Hatfield House from the knot garden.

After helping out with Messy Church at St Johns (a wonderful experience for a young adult in search of history and culture) we spent the afternoon snooping around Lord and Lady Salisbury's house and gardens.

It was a brilliant English summer day, the water sparkled reflecting the soft blue sky and a light breeze set the hollyhocks swaying. You can park and see the exterior of the Old Palace and the stable yard full of shops and eateries for free all year.  The House and grounds are still lived in so only open to the public for a season (April - September).

The quarter of Hatfield Palace that survives.  I wonder if that chimney made swirly smoke on a still day?

What is left of the Old Palace seen from the Library window.

Going into the Stable Yard.

The Old Palace
Hatfield Palace was built by the Bishop of Ely. He was also Henry VII's minister so perhaps it was a half way point from the Island in the Fens to London Tower on his journeys between his responsibilities. When Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries and took the church land, Hatfield became a Royal palace. Princess Elizabeth and Prince Edward were given a thorough education here.  They learnt several languages, science and math of the day and theology(protestant) from the best minds the King could bring from around Europe. Elizabeth had her first romance here that ended in a horrid interrogation for her although she managed to extradite herself without accusations of treason. Her first love lost his head. It would seem that Lord Seymour had the intention of marrying her and using her to take the throne. This experience would have had a huge influence on the princess' evolution into a virgin queen - unwilling to hand the crown to another.

Left: A wooden banister knob perhaps dating from the time the palace was built around 1485. What would have been the Palace's courtyard garden in the background.
Right: The hall is now hired out for events. I imagine that when a palace the brick walls would have been plastered and murals painted on them. The huge tapestries were dwarfed by the vaulted ceiling.

Poor Princess Mary, well beyond schooling age, was also resident at Hatfield Palace after being announced as illegitimate after her parent's divorce.  I can only imagine her bitter anger and jealousy. When Mary became Queen after young King Edward's demise she bought back the old religious beliefs burnt many who wouldn't recant, married the Spanish King and had Princess Elizabeth interred at Hatfield House.  When Mary thought her sister was the figure head of a plot against her by her disgruntled populace she had her locked up in the Tower for a while. Elizabeth's life was spared when Mary believed she was pregnant and was convinced that she was carrying an heir. Unfortunately it turned out that she was carrying a huge tumour that took her life. Upon her ascension to the throne, Elizabeth left Hatfield Palace, never to return.

Left: King James 1  Right: The Rainbow portrait commissioned by Robert Salisbury when Elizabeth I was 67yrs old.  There is a great deal to be said about this painting by Isaac Oliver and its Symbolism - I've left that treat till last!

A sculpture of QEI and her ministers including Lord Burlegh (Willaim Cecil).

The Queen's hand has snapped off - Willow is mocking the concentrated dismay of those around the Queen - we wonder she was holding that could have been so riveting

 Hatfield House

Left: William Cecil, QEI Lord High Treasurer, builder of
Theobalds where the Queen was regularly entertained.
Right: Robert Cecil, 1st Earl of Salisbury -  Minister for
James I, alma mater - St John's College Cambridge.

When Elizabeth died she made James VI of Scotland her successor. He gained this title after his mother, Mary Queen of Scots, cousin of Elizabeth and Catholic plotter for the English throne, was beheaded. He became James I of England and made the two countries one without a battle. He took up residence in England and decided that he liked the palace owned by the son of Elizabeth's Lord High Treasurer - William Cecil (Lord Burghley). William's son Robert, was a minister to the King and after being asked to swap Theobalds (King James died here in 1625) for Hatfield felt compelled to agree.  He immediately had three of the four wings of the Palace dismantled and put the bricks toward building a fine new residence for his family.  Robert, the 1st Earl of Salisbury, died soon after it was completed but would be proud to know that unlike many other family seats, Hatfield is still owned and lived in by the 7th Marquess of Salisbury (if the family hadn't been given the promotion he would have been the 13th Earl), his descendants.

One of the many shop fronts in the Stable Yard

The Stable Yard access is free, tickets to the House and grounds are £16 per adult.

In today's world the cost of this privilege is having shops on your doorstep and strangers staring at your stuff for 6 months every year. Their living area is not open to the public and the rooms that are, are still used for grand occasions after visiting hours in season and all the time through the cooler months. A local lady told me that she often sees Lady Salisbury pottering around in the garden wearing the same hat that Petal bought from the gift store. Lady S makes suggestions for the stock carried!

Left: A pineapple on a column in the middle of the stable yard fountain - it looks fairly new! (see it reflected in the window)
Right: A blood orange sorbet or chocolate ice-cream, rhubarb juice(Cawston Press - deliciously tart) and water were happily refreshing.

Petal bought one of Lady Salisbury's hats.

The house is full of interesting things collected and used by interesting people. There was an audio guide available but we prefer to see what we see. They had some lovely guides sprinkled around who were able to answer any question posed about paintings, objects and who had used the spaces for what. We were told we could take photos without flash, luckily the bright day made that possible. I think it would be a dark house in winter. If you took a picnic you could have a lovely long day for your £16 ticket.

Left:  M at the front door. Right: The modern water sculpture looks a little out of place.

Although it does frame the front door rather well.

Clock/Bell Tower  and one of two lions guarding the front door.

The entrance hall- the fabric design on the desk uses the pattern of the birds on the lamp sculptures at the front gate.
The gate on the right opens into the games hall. Its proper title is - the Armoury.

Instead of nannies they just have gigantic pictures of mum and dad keeping the kids in line with a back up guard in armour!

A lot of weapons on the wall for a playroom!  Pretty dangerous play fights I'd imagine.

The Hall. It looks a lot like the house in BBCs Sense and Sensibility where Marianne was carried in after Colonel Brandon found her collapsed in the rain.  Mary Queen of Scots is hung left of the white horse - just as plain as in the National gallery - she must have a had an amazing personality to  achieve the reputation of beauty she goaded her cousin with.

The staircase to the King James drawing room which we forgot to take photos of.  It is used by the family for parties and soirees still. From the windows you can see the 9ft tall maze that is out of bounds to everyone always.  Imagine how glorious these tapestries would have been before the fading.

The family crest in the paws of a lion on the stairs.

Foot of the staircase.

This portrait of QEI by Nicholas Hilliard 1585, is called 'The Ermine Portrait and is hung in the KJ drawing room. 
The little ermine(farmed for their fur supposedly a symbol of purity) is wearing a crown that has slipped to a collar. What secret message could be deduced from that? She is holding a branch of an olive tree for peace in her other hand.  Many portraits of Elizabeth were painted to hang around the halls of palaces where ambassadors from other countries were housed to represent the Queen - who as she aged rarely took audiences away from candle light. The idea was that if the nations knew how old and frail the Queen was they might think to attack her realm. 
The pendant in the top detail is called the Three Brothers - for the three huge rubies. It was apparently one of Elizabeth's favourite jewels, her monument in Westminster Abbey is wearing it. James I wore it as a hat pin then gave it to his wife who took it to the Netherlands with her and it has never been seen since. There is a novel waiting to be written! 

Left" detail from the garden gates = 6 were made to celebrate the residence of Queen Victoria. They must have had a lot of prior warning to get such a huge project finished in time.  Top Right: a little Chinese pekingese looking face in one of the staircases' wall paneling.  Lower Right: A similar shape as a gilded handle on a tea chest.

M making himself at home in the long gallery.  The ceiling was originally white but after a trip to Venice the 2nd Marquise  decided to copy one he was impressed with there and had it covered in gold leaf - it really glows - quite a marvel. 

These items have been carved out of pieces of solid rock crystal then the gold was pressed on. Amazing! On display in the Long gallery.

Queen Anne's throne - original fabric etc.   Her 17 children predeceased her.

The Library - what a room!  Kings, Queens and Prime ministers have worked, debated and problem solved in here.

Close up on the left of the 'scroll' to the right; a genealogy of QEI.  Buttercup was  incredulous my jaw dropped too when she pointed it out.  Written below is the description given for the object.

'This is the heraldic pedigree tracing the descent of Queen Elizabeth from Adam and Eve. The knight in the center on view is William the Conqueror on his charger.  Other supposed ancestors of the Queen shown on the roll are King Arthur, King Lear, Julius Caesar, Romulus and Remus, Hector and Noah!  The parchment roll dates for 1559 and is almost 20 meters long.'
Well I guess fiction was alive and well before Shakespeare was born!'

Left: a transportable organ, it was here when the house was finished being built and has moved rooms more than three times.
Right: The organ in the Chapel.

Beautiful stained glass in the Family Chapel.

The kitchens were renovated for Queen Victoria's week visit in 1846 to cope with the triple sized population of the house.
25 people worked in there in that week.

The third Marquise was a favourite Prime Minister of Queen Vic, perhaps because he shared Prince Albert's interest in scientific progress. He was one of the first people in England to light his house with electricity and to install a telephone (early adopters of this technology must have had a more philosophical purpose.) The guide told me that in the long gallery, the wires would often burst into flame and the family would just throw cushions at them to put the fire out without a break in conversation.  Maybe it is that nonchalance that separates the aristocracy from the middle classes!

Left: the still room.  The Still room maid was incharge of making preserves, light tray breakfasts, afternoon teas, the hot beverages and occasionally jellies.  Centre: a tea pot for large celebrations with a burner underneath.
Right: The scullery - woe was the life of the scullery maid. Her chief purpose was washing up the pots and pans and utensils, scrubbing the floors and walls and when not busy with that plucking birds and preparing vegetables - her poor sore hands.

The knot garden on the opposite side of the house from the Maze - those Jacobites sure liked puzzles!
Plenty of Opium poppies seeding up in the garden.

The smell of roses was thick in the air - Petal found a couple of fallen heads!
Incredible red of this water lily! A pair or two of bright blue dragon flies buzzed over the surface too.

Lots of shady walkways to bring down the temperature of the scorching English summers ...  Just love the dapple!

Wicked plans afoot with the long seed head - most ended up in my hair.  Buttercup doesn't seem to need our help to battle the timezones!  She didn't even fall asleep after dinner on the way back to Cambridge.

This is a remarkable portrait of QEI

So I shall remark upon it here!  It is called the Rainbow Portrait because she is holding the thing of beauty(whose pigments have all faded) that symbolises peace after the storm (surviving the Armada). Robert - 1st Earl of Salsibury commissioned it and followed in his spymaster father's footsteps - they really knew how to charm a girl, he had non sine sole iris (no rainbow without the sun) inscribed on it.
It was painted when Elizabeth was in her late sixties, obviously it is more symbolic than a photo realism! By this age she had banned all mirrors from her room as she had lost all but three teeth, her skin was flaking off because of the lead and mercury in the whitening powder and rouge that she used and she was virtually bald.
Everything in the picture had some double meaning and was hung to remind the people who their queen really was regardless of age - the ultimate fountain of youth - the artists brush.
Over the golden cape are rather grotesque images of eyes and ears showing that she knew what was going on around her kingdom and throughout Europe. Both William and later his son Robert Cecil ran a small band of professional spies. William uncovered the papist plot to put cousin  Mary on the throne which lead to her beheading and Robert uncovered the gun powder plot (some conspiracy theorists say he used double agents to arrange it all and frighten King James into a tougher stance against the Catholics). 
The flowery bodice is covered in wild flowers that she grew up with showing that she was closely connected to her land and the common people.
The snake on her sleeve represents wisdom (I'd say a crafty slyness) and the heart gem hanging from its mouth shows that her mind ruleed her heart in Royal duties. 
The short ruff around her neck was the male fashion demonstrating her strength to rule and the flamboyant lace collars show her feminine discernment and intuition. She wears only one ear ring which is also the male way and in the lace collar is a gauntlet symbolising her belief in chivalry and honour. 
She is covered but not outshone by precious gems and pearls - no doubt some courtier pointed out that she was the most precious jewel of England.
No wonder those Cecils got ahead - I bet the Queen loved it.  We really appreciate the time and expertise of the guide in Hall!
For a better look at the portrait go to this site http://www.hatfield-house.co.uk/feature/3/The-Rainbow-Portrait
To watch a video of the House go to http://www.hatfield-house.co.uk/feature/118/Promo-Video