Joana Starnes

Six years ago almost to the day, my friend Mira and I finished our P&P tour with a very brief glimpse of Teigh Old Rectory (aka Hunsford 1995). I’ve been hoping to go back ever since and stay for longer, yet somehow it had not happened for quite a while. There never seemed to be a good moment. I got caught up in the day-to-day as you do, and then came the wretched pandemic… But all of a sudden the stars aligned, and last week I finally got to spend some time at the Hunsford parsonage! I’ve taken lots and LOTS of pictures (I’m ashamed to tell you how many). I’d love to share some of them with you.

The beautiful place is as atmospheric as ever. One of the original shelves can still be found in the closet – happy thought indeed! Despite all the modern touches and the rearranged furniture, many rooms give the impression that Mrs Collins and her guests have only just stepped out. And in the peaceful tranquillity of the English countryside, the birds are still twittering, just as they did during the awfully tense seconds of silence between ‘… I beg you most fervently to relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife’ and ‘In such cases as these I believe the established mode is to express a sense of obligation. But I cannot.’

(P&P 1995 The first proposal scene on YouTube)

The only difference between last week and my ever-so-short visit in June 2016 is that the P&P wallpaper is no longer there. It had been replaced in 2017 due to severe water damage. I suppose we may imagine that Mr Collins must have bathed rather vigorously in the room above. Or perhaps we shouldn’t go there. The thought of Mr Collins bathing (vigorously or not) can be quite nauseating 😀

In the absence of the wallpaper, I paid due homage to the fireplace, the corner shelves, the door and the windows – not least the one where Mr Darcy had stood while Elizabeth had teasingly declared, ‘So you see, it is a hopeless case, is it not, Colonel Fitzwilliam?’

Mrs Victoria Owen, the owner, is the kindest and most thoughtful lady I have ever had the privilege to meet. She makes her guests feel welcome with everything she does. I loved her stories about the village and the local area, and her breakfasts are delicious! If you ever visit in the summer, I hope you’ll have the chance to taste her gooseberries stewed in a light syrup flavoured with elderflower. They reminded me of Mr Bennet’s gooseberry fool and the story Ben Whitrow had once shared, about him eating so much of his favourite pudding during the two days it took to shoot one of the dining room scenes at Longbourn that afterwards he felt he would never be able to eat gooseberry fool again. I guess we’ll never know if he had reconsidered, but for my part, I’d happily start each morning with a yummy helping of Mrs Owen’s gooseberries.

Her lovely Jacko kept me company at breakfast every day, then one afternoon he took me for a tour of the garden and did me the great honour of rolling on his back and allowing me to stroke his tummy. I have also discovered that he is very proficient in foreign languages: every now and then he miaows.

The garden is a corner of heaven. In late March and early April it might have been too chilly for Elizabeth to sit and read outdoors, but in mid-June it’s just perfect. I could have sat in the garden for the best part of every day, reading or maybe writing a chapter or two, if I hadn’t been much too agreeably engaged in absorbing the good vibes of the house and daydreaming in the parlour.

Perhaps it was a good thing that the wallpaper had been removed, otherwise I might have sat in the parlour for hours on end, drinking in the atmosphere and relishing the tingle of inspiration as I tuned out the modern world and pictured all the scenes that had taken place or might have taken place within those walls. As it was, I managed to tear myself away and set out to explore. More about that in my next post, but for now I’ll just say that I had to visit Lady Catherine’s abode again (Rosings 1995 and Rosings 2005 are both within very easy distance).

To my good fortune, I did not come across her ladyship, so I was free to linger happily in all the usual places…

… as I wondered if Mr and Mrs Darcy might have sat and played at chess in the Blue Silk Dressing Room whenever they bit the bullet and came to visit Lady Catherine…

… and, for that matter, which apartments her grouchy ladyship might have assigned for their use.

I suppose it would be too much to hope that her displeasure would have softened in sufficient measure so as to make her welcome them with open arms and task her craftsmen with decorating one of the allotted bedchambers with turtledoves in honour of their marriage.

That being said, do look for the turtledoves in my next WIP, I think they’ll make an appearance ;). For now, if you’d like a closer look you can see them better on the Burghley House virtual tour (follow the link, click on the arrow in the top-right corner of the screen and select the Second George Room from the drop-down menu. And while you’re there, maybe stroll through the Heaven Room and the rest of the house as well).

In actual fact, the turtledoves ornament was added after the Regency period as a delicate attention to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, who had come to stay at Burghley shortly after their marriage. Still, it’s a wood carving, not a crinoline or goodness knows what other Victorian contraption, so it’s not too much of a stretch to think that it might have been fashioned a few decades earlier. After all, what’s life without whimsy, and WIPs without some artistic licence?

Thanks for reading, and have a lovely summer!