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(, Sun 1 Apr 2001, 1:00)
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She had servants and her home had servants quarters that were bigger than my house growing up. She had her own church built on her estate when they let women become priests because her local church let one preach there.
Thankfully it had all been bred out by the time my mother pushed out a few kids.
(, Mon 23 May 2011, 16:33, 2 replies, latest was 15 years ago)
This meant we got our own floor - but it also meant that there was zero heat retention. Why this was became apparent when my brother punched a hole in his bedroom wall in a fit of teenage angst, to reveal wattle and fucking daub beneath. The ground floor was Tudor and had stone walls a couple of feet thick - and there were arrow slits in the walls of the garage.
(, Mon 23 May 2011, 16:36, Reply)
The garage was originally the stable block, and there was a medieval tiled mosaic floor in one bit.
One of the garden path flagstones was a C17th gravestone and I found all sorts of historical stuff when I dug a pond in the garden - such as clay pipe stems and a stirrup. It was fucking cool.
(, Mon 23 May 2011, 16:40, Reply)
(, Mon 23 May 2011, 16:37, Reply)
they money was split up so much that the most anyone got would have bought them a 2 bedroomed house in a reasonable area. The bed I slept in when we visited was sold at auction to the national trust for £15,000. In fact most of the furniture ended up with them as it had all been bought by my family from some upper class family that were utterly ruined after WWII. Their manor was eventually bought by the national trust and the trust wanted to get all of the original paintings and whatnot back.
(, Mon 23 May 2011, 16:46, Reply)
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