Saturday was Castle day. Kenilworth Castle of Sir Walter Scott fame has been revisioned from a Norman castle, to King John's royal fortress with imposing moat, then to the Earl of Leicester's lavishment to impress Queen Elizabeth the first. Lastly Cromwell's lot slighted it (archaic meaning of demolished) leaving big ruins which were not as impressive as Anne Hathaway's Cottage. English Heritage tried hard to get us to join, they do good stuff but we're already in the National Trust and didn't feel like overdoing the membership business.

Better was the National Trust Packwood House. Collector Baron Ash revised the Victorian house back to the 1700s, and filled it with tapestries and tables of the period. I learnt what I took to be coat of arms were actually hatchments, diamond designs left half black, right half white, which were funeral designs in Churches. In a sedan chair there was a rare artists' lay figure which artists could hire cheaper than live models for poses. Baron Ash lucky guy also had a world tour in the early 1920s and there were momentos from that around.

We took in nearby Baddesley Clinton, a Catholic stately home surrounded by a moat. It boasted not one or two but three priests' holes, skilfully secreted in the building. Echoes of times when the authorities in England took religion seriously. The fireplace had a stain by it supposedly of a priest murdered after being caught not being celibate with the Lord's wife. The Pope forgave the Lord after a suitable number of penances and donations. This visit brought my number of banged heads to three on the long weekend.