Sizergh Castle is a solidly-built ancient fortress that was enlarged in phases as the family fortunes improved.
The interior tells a different story. Family fortunes reversed before the Stricklands could keep up with the overly ornate Baroque style of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
Instead, the decor of Sizergh remains very masculine, with beautifully carved but rugged oak panels rather than gilded and flowery decor.
The strength of the design brought to mind the Starks of the North in Game of Thrones, an analogy that actually overlays nicely with the Strickland military history of its battles against those "Wildling" Scots north of Hadrian's Wall and later the internal war against the Red Rose Lancasters (as opposed to Lannisters in GOT) to see who would claim the united kingdom's throne.
I don't believe it to be too much of a stretch to imagine the real history of Sizergh Castle and the Stricklands factored into the storytelling of author George R. R. Martin, whose fantasy series, A Song of Fire and Ice, was adapted into the epoch TV series watched around the world.
In my opinion, the GOT set-designer missed the boat by not patterning Winterfell Castle more exactly after Sizergh.
Back to Sizergh Castle's actual history, Sir Thomas Strickland lived the head-swelling high life in London (King's Landing?) as a Member of Parliament in the closing years of Queen Elizabeth's reign, dissipating family wealth on gambling and attempts to impress the big city elites of his day.
Nonetheless, upon the death of the wastrel Sir Thomas, the family again took up the mantle for their country, this time on behalf of King Charles I (son of King James I) against the Scots in the Second Bishop's War.
Then again, traditionally wars brought royal privilege plus plundered booty, so perhaps for the Stricklands this was basically just going back to work at the family business.
"Why would King Charles I, as the grandson of Mary Queen of Scots, take up arms against his ancestral home?" you may ask. To some extent, his hand was forced by Scottish rebellion against his new policy to enforce Episcopal, or Bishop rule, as practiced by the Church of England --- of which he as King was the leader --- upon Scottish "kirks" that were accustomed to Presbyterian independence, but there's more to it than that.
The elitist King James I (King James VI of Scotland before assuming the combined reign) had been raised to look down on Scots as crude primitives, an attitude passed down to his son.
Feudalism was based on elitism, with royals ostensibly chosen by God to rule, and their friends granted fiefdoms in exchange for taxes and raising armies to help in the mutual defense of the kingdom.
The average serf --- and that would have been most people --- was little more than a slave, but just as the Reformation challenged Catholic rule of the soul, Parliamentarians arose intent on supplanting Royalist rule.
A full-fledged Civil War broke out in 1642.
The Stricklands sided with King Charles I and the Royalists, and once again fought valiantly on the losing side of history, culminating with King Charles I being executed in 1649.
Already struggling under the gambling debts accumulated by the wastrel Sir Thomas and fighting on the losing side of the Civil War, the massive fines levied by Parliamentarians brought the family fortunes to a low ebb just as the Baroque Era blossomed with Louis XIV of France, the Sun King, making garish gilding all the rage among European royalty.
Missing that trend makes Sizergh Castle somewhat unique, preserving for the most part a high nobleman's estate at the apex of the Medieval era, whereas most castles sustain the fashionable style of later periods or in other cases fall into ruin.
Having mispronounced its name for years upon learning it to be the Strickland family's ancestral home, I confirmed at Sizergh Castle that its name is actually sigh-zer, possibly pronounced sigh-th-zer in Old English.
While admission to the estate does not include a guided tour, volunteers well-versed in the history Sizergh Castle and Strickland family lore await in each room, happy to share what they know, which is considerable.
One guide was particularly well-informed. I'd like to think this handsome, dapper chap in the prime of life could be a distant cousin, perhaps a grandson of Angela Hornyold-Strickland, who passed away in 2015, and Lt. Commander Thomas Hornyold-Strickland. Pure conjecture, if not out-and-out hallucination, but it nonetheless introduces the hyphenated surname of the current residents, which I've mentioned previously and usually brings an embarrassed, adolescent smile to those who hear it.
While not exactly clever, I hope you find that somewhat amusing.
That possibly Hornyold-Strickland chap confirmed something I find very interesting indeed, which is that George Washington is my distant cousin.
Getting into the weeds of exactly how that is possible, unfortunately, soon reduces me to being subject to the same criticism to which Emma chided Miss Bates in the video at the end of my prior article.
Nonetheless, here it goes:
Elizabeth d'Eyncourt married Sir William de Strikeland, and they had two children, a daughter named Joan born about 1260 and a son named Walter in about 1265.
Through primogenitor, Walter inherited Sizergh Castle despite being the younger child by virtue of being male, but Joan certainly took a nice dowry and pedigree into her marriage with Robert de Wessington.
At some point, Wessington became slurred into the spelling "Washington" in those nearly illiterate times. Yes, they were grandparents twelve generations up from George Washington.
Going back further, Adam de Castle Carrock had a son named Sir Walter fitz Adam (literally, Son of Adam), who married Christiana de Leteham, the heiress of Great Stirkeland, which means great pastureland of stirkes (cattle).
Walter decided to take the surname "de Stirkeland." His son Robert had a son named Robert, and by the time his son William married Elizabeth and became Lord of Sizergh Manor, the name had morphed a bit to Strikeland.
On Elizabeth's side, William de Lancaster, Lord of Kendal, granted Sizergh to Sir Gervase d'Eyncourt in about 1175 for meritorious service, and upon his death, the estate passed to his son, Sir Ralph.
Ralph died without an heir, so his sister, Elizabeth d'Eyncourt, inherited the property.
According to the family tree in the National Trust guidebook of Sizergh Castle that our son Jay gave me during our visit, the Strikeland family proceeded from Joan's brother Walter, with subsequent senior sons alternating between the first name Walter and Thomas for a total of six generations, with the surname eventually morphing to Strickland.
Each achieved distinction for military service. While Elizabeth d'Eyncourt descended from Scottish kings, the Stricklands fought in the Scottish wars of Kings Edward I and II.
In the Hundred Year War against France, their Kendal archers fought under Kings Edward III and Henry V.
At the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, the second Sir Thomas carried the Banner of St. George, which was considered the banner with the highest honor. This white flag with a red cross was the English flag, forerunner of the Union Jack.
The royal "standard-bearer" Sir Thomas had a son named Walter, who was the only leader of the Strickland family not dubbed a Knight during the medieval period, though he did fight on the White Rose side in the War of the Roses.
His son Sir Thomas was knighted during the War of the Roses in the heat of the Battle of Tewkesbury in 1471. He fought for King Edward IV, who was a York. The Yorks were represented by the White Rose, and the Lancasters by the Red Rose. While the White Rose won that seemingly decisive battle, the crimson tide later turned. In 1485, King Henry VII won the throne for the Red Rose.
Despite being on the wrong side of that war, Strickland fortunes actually improved under what became known as Tudor rule. King Henry VII married Elizabeth of York to unite the country, an effort to bring former enemies together under the same flag.
Before Tewkesbury, Sir Thomas Strickland had married Agnes Parr in 1464. Their grandniece was Queen Consort Catherine Parr, who became the sixth and final wife of King Henry VIII in 1543. She was charged with the care of the girl who would grow up to be Queen Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen (and conjecture on that subject is at the historic root of Steve Barry's novel The King's Deception, which I recently read in conjunction with this trip).
Back to the Strickland family line, the next Walter Strickland broke the trend, naming his son Walter, and that Walter named his son Walter. That third Walter in a row was Walter Charles Strickland Esq, for those of you keeping score.
In addition to military service, they began a tradition of serving in Parliament, with government service being a family tradition through the twentieth century at least.
As the family fortunes improved over time, the family home became more elaborate. In 1310, a more substantial stone manor house with a large great hall replaced the original structure. Sir Thomas, hero of Tewkesbury, built the four-story tower, "adding swagger" according tot he guidebook.
Sizergh Castle tripled in size during the Tudor Period, despite the Stricklands being staunch Catholics who were philosophically opposed King Henry VIII's Protestant Reformation.
As usual, I will make references to some pop culture alternatives to history books as I go, because while they are at best guesses at what happened put into an interesting format, they are factors that influence how I envision the time periods so distinctly different from our own. I mention them because I believe you too may find them helpful in visualizing the eras. Plus, they're entertaining.
In 1485, King Henry VII became the last King to win the throne of England on the battlefield. In the War of the Roses, both sides were of the greater Royal House of Plantagenet.
Henry's House of Lancaster (not to be confused with Lannister from Game of Thrones) were associated with the Red Rose, while the House of York was associated with the White Rose. The war lasted over 32 years. Talk about an epic family feud!
At the conclusion, victorious King Henry VII married Princess Elizabeth of York, uniting his claim to the throne with the vanquished house. You may have seen The White Princess, a mini-series based on this marriage, and otherwise, you might want to check it out.
If you have been watching the sequel to that series, The Spanish Princess, you know that Tudor King Henry VII's heir apparent Arthur married Princess Catherine of Aragon in 1501. They were both just 15 years old but their marriage had been arranged years earlier. Catherine was the daughter Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand of Spain, who through their sponsorship of explorations of the Americas spearheaded by Christopher Columbus became the richest monarchs in the world. Obviously, England was especially pleased for this union of royal fortunes.
Unfortunately, Arthur died just 5 months after the marriage ceremony.
When Arthur died, his younger brother, Harry, who was only 11 years-old, became heir apparent to the English throne. If you've watched The Spanish Princess, you now should understand the extent of the liberties taken with regard to history that dramatizations sometimes take, because in the TV show, young Harry is something of a sophisticated Romeo when he actually would have been nothing more than a little boy more concerned with playing soldiers and such.
In any case, Arthur's early death meant that Princess Catherine was something of soiled merchandise on the royal marriage market, but she navigated around this by swearing the marriage had never been consummated.
England, of course, still wanted her enormous dowry and decided to essentially accredit her account that she and Arthur had not shared a marital bed as husband and wife. Princess Catherine remained in England as Aragon's Ambassador.
When Henry VII died in 1509, 17-year-old Harry (the casual spoken name for Henry back then) became King Henry VIII, and soon thereafter married 23-year-old Catherine of Aragon, making her Queen of England. As to whether there was a great romance as The Spanish Princess dramatizes is questionable, but it was supposed to have been a good marriage, keeping in mind that "good marriage" apparently meant the King could have mistresses on the side.
A bigger problem for the royal marriage than Henry's commitment to monogamy were several stillborn babies and then the death of the long awaited male heir within weeks of his birth. They had one surviving child together, Mary Tudor, who went on to become Queen of England for five years upon the death of her father. She earned the name Bloody Mary for her heavy-handed efforts to reverse the Protestant Reformation.
When King Henry VIII tired of his very Catholic Spanish Queen, he sought to annul their marriage of over twenty years.
Henry claimed that the original Papal approval to allow him to marry his brother's widow was invalid because Catherine and Arthur had indeed consummated their marriage. Henry claimed the church should have realized that at the time. Never mind that Henry himself wanted the Catholic Church to approve his marriage to Catherine.
Henry VIII wanted his longtime chaplain and most powerful adviser, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, who had risen to the position of Lord Chancellor, to convince the Catholic Church to annul the wedding so that he could marry Anne Boleyn. The Cardinal was unsuccessful.
In 1529, when Wolsey failed to gain papal approval, he was dismissed from royal service and returned to life as Archbishop in York.
The Protestant Revolution had already been at philosophical and even violent odds with the Catholic Church elsewhere in Europe for years by this point.
Anyway, according to Wikitree, Walter Charles Strickland became the head of the family at age 14 "at the date of his father's inquisition post mortem." I at first thought that meant the Spanish Inquisition, but the father died of illness related to asthma (and I would guess medical treatment for that, based on what I understand about "doctors" of the period), so that must be a legal term for settling affairs.
In 1908, a Kendal Publisher released a book by Daniel Scott which indicates the father died from illness. Chapter Eight of The Stricklands of Sizergh Castle: The Records of Twenty-five Generations of a Westmoreland Family is called Three Notable Walters. It quotes a contract wherein the second of these three successive Walters, the father of our subject, agreed to pay a total of 20 pounds sterling to Dr. Alexander Kenet in 1526 to bring him to "perfect health of all his infirmities and diseases contained in his person, and especially stomach, and lungs, and breast, wherein he has most disease and grief." Scott goes on to say that "Despite these attentions, Sir Walter died on January 9th the following year, when he was only about 31 years old."
Wikitree goes on to say that upon his parents' death, young Walter was made a ward of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey (Henry VIII's former Lord Chancellor).
Within a few months, however, the mercurial Henry accused Wolsey of treason, one of the King's favorite crimes to hang on those who had fallen out of royal favor. Wolsey died before his trial at the end of 1530.
Times were obviously changing fast.
Henry VIII appointed a new Archbishop who approved his annulment. Henry secretly married Anne Boleyn in 1532. When the Pope learned of the annulment, he ex-communicated both Henry and his new Archbishop of Canterbury.
Rather than recant, Henry officially married Anne Boleyn in January of 1533.
Within months, the Act of Succession of 1533 declared Catherine's Catholic daughter Mary "illegitimate," though of course history would unfold to subsequently make her Queen against her father's wishes.
In 1534, the Acts of Supremacy named King Henry VIII head of the Church of England, and Protestants ruled England for the first time.
Meanwhile, back at Sizergh Castle, with the death of Cardinal Wolsey, Walter subsequently became ward of Arthur Darcy and then his uncle, Thomas Strickland.
There's a funny note about him being "only slightly" involved in the Northern Rebellion of October 1536. I believe this refers to the "Pilgrimage of Grace," which sought to reverse King Henry VIII's break from the Catholic Church and to overturn the reform policies of Sir Thomas Cromwell, including the Dissolution of the Monasteries.
As an aside, I happened to read a good book about this time period called Dissolution on our Celebrity Eclipse Southern Caribbean cruise, having found it in the ship's library. I couldn't recall the name of that book to recommend it while writing this, but I recalled it seeing it on our balcony table while in port in Curacao and was able to look up the title on my blog. A couple of days ago I happened to look at that post before emailing its link to some friends who will soon be cruising to Curacao, or perhaps I wouldn't have remembered. That's probably of little interest to you, but it's fascinating to me as to how my brain works to somehow organize information. I won't bore you any more than I already have with details about this period, but the book by C.J. Sansom does manage to slip in quite a few details of the era within a period murder mystery.
Back to 1536, the main leader of the Pilgrimage of Grace rebellion was Robert Aske, but right below his name in a Wikipedia article on the subject is that of Sir Thomas Darcy. Looking him up, I learned he happens to be the father of Sir Arthur Darcy, Walter's guardian after Cardinal Wolsey.
I would guess that upon discovery of Sir Thomas Darcy's involvement in the rebellion against the crown, Arthur Darcy would have been deemed an unacceptable guardian for young Walter, leading to the appointment of Thomas Strickland to that position.
Upon assuming his role as guardian, Uncle Thomas must have convinced the authorities that young Walter had been led astray by his prior guardians, because Walter was pardoned. However, it should be noted that unlike his father and grandfather, who were Knights with the title of Sir Walter, the third Walter never received a title higher than Esquire.
On April 28, 1537, just six months after the rebellion, 21-year-old Walter, having reached the proper legal age, took full control of his own estate.
Despite his family's Catholic history and his own involvement in rebellion, Walter quickly became trusted by the English government upon receiving control of his properties. Within a year, he was serving as a juror for trials of rebels, including some of his own relatives.
When Walter was "overlooked" in appointing aristocrats to help in "keeping peace and administering justice," Deputy Warden Thomas Wharton wrote to Thomas Cromwell on July 12, 1537, to attain an appointment for his "great friend."
The trust of Wharton proved well-founded when Walter became something of a hero in defending England. Walter gathered 200 Kendal archers at Solway Moss in 1542, helping defeat the Scottish uprising that supported the Catholic reign of King James V. When describing the battle in a letter, Wharton referred to Walter as his "nigh cousin," indicating a strong bond.
King James V was not actually in the battle, but the agony of this bitter defeat apparently contributed to his death a short time later. He was survived by a six-week old daughter, who was named sovereign of Scotland upon his death. That was Mary Queen of Scots.
The theory that Sir Thomas Strickland, the Parliament member and scoundrel, was the child of Walter and Alice is on pretty firm ground, as he is much more visible in history books.
To be the full brother of Thomas, William must have been born later than his estimated birth date of about 1530. After all, Alice Tempest would have been only ten years-old at the time and didn't marry Walter until 1561, when she was 31 years old. William's son Edward, however, was reportedly born in 1551, so it would be impossible for William to have been born around the time that Walter married Alice.
My alternative theory is that Alice was not the mother of William.
If we assume William was born in 1530, then that would have been about the time that Walter's father died. Walter's father was also named Walter (1493-1528), so an easy explanation would be that William was born possibly in 1528 or 1529 and was actually an uncle of Thomas rather than a brother. However, no records of such seem to support that, keeping in mind that I'm relying on records available online found by other amateur sleuths rather than digging through original records on my own.
Going with Walter Charles Strickland Esq as the father of William like "ancestral voters" seem to agree, then I would conclude that in fact William must have been born later than 1530 (although it would be possible for a 14-year-old to father a child).
On March 8, 1535, 18-year-old Charles was contracted to marry Margaret Hamerton of Wigglesworth, but no documents of the actual marriage itself seem to exist.
Margaret died May 3, 1538, possibly taking her own life according to Wikitree. I think a good alternative theory is that in fact William was born to Margaret, who died during childbirth. I would surmise suicide may be only a Wikitree theory based on the fact she died at only 22 years of age. Death during childbirth seems in that era seems far more likely to me.
In a slight contradiction, the ancestral voters show Walter marrying Agnes Hamerton in 1537 just as he gained control of his estate, but with no clear end to that relationship. I think Agnes was actually Margaret, which would fit my second theory exactly.
Just to make things more confusing, Walter Charles Strickland Esq did have a sister and an aunt named Agnes, which might help explain where that name came from.
Anyway, my final answer is: William was born on about May 3, 1538, and his mother is Margaret Hamerton of Wigglesworth, daughter of Sir Stephen Hamerton. Just to be clear, however, our family link to Walter Charles Strickland Esq was probably through Sir Thomas rather than William.
Flying to Buenos Aires from Los Angeles takes longer than flights to Europe. It's not only far to the south but also five time zones to the east.
In fact, if you refresh your memory with a glance at a globe or map, you may be surprised to realize that the vast majority of South America, including Chile, is east of our Atlantic Seaboard, much less California.
Our friends Mike and Linda, who joined us on this trip, used air miles to upgrade to Business Class, allowing them to stretch out for the longer leg, while we at least upgraded to Premium Economy. Surprisingly, I managed to sleep almost as well as I do at home on this redeye flight, thanks to two complimentary heaping pours of red wine.
The transfer Mike arranged through Casa Calma Hotel carried us directly to our lodgings for a reasonable fare. In Buenos Aires, taxis and meals are pretty inexpensive, making it easy to live like one of Ernest Hemingway's fictional characters in the Cafe Society of Paris. Buenos Aires has appropriately been called the Paris of South America.
There are many stately buildings on what could be stunning streets, including one boulevard so wide that it takes at least two long traffic signals with a break in between to walk all the way across.
Unfortunately, like many big cities in the United States and the rest of the world, city leaders have decided it's fine to let gang members and "street artists" spray their graffiti on buildings they don't own, including monumental government buildings and historic structures that unmarred by such scribbles would create a truly gorgeous urban environment.
When we arrived at our boutique hotel, I could hear Linda gasp to realize we would be staying on a narrow street marked in ink by these territorial dogs. With its entire front being glass, there was nothing for vandals to tag, but the flagstone facade next door had not been spared.
The small lobby showed more wear than in the web site pictures, which is never much of a surprise, but the young lady behind the front desk, Augustina, could not have been more pleasant throughout our stay. The entire helpful staff who work there share her sunny disposition.
Augustina had one room available for immediate check-in, and despite having Business Class seats, Mike and Linda had not slept as well as Julie and me, so they took that room to rest while Julie and I took a stroll around Buenos Aires.
First seeking our second cup of morning coffee, we found Mostaza, a sparkling clean fast food chain outlet offering coffee plus two croissants for about about $1.50 U.S. Julie wanted a doughnut instead, and somehow we ended up with two cappuccinos plus a croissant and donut for about $2. Rejuvenated, we set off to find sites Julie had mapped out before leaving home.
It was 89 degrees Fahrenheit, so we weren't seeking the sunny side of the street.
In the shade of those should-be beautiful avenues lay beggars, some of whom have been allowed to drag filthy mattresses on which they lounged while holding out cups for money, though I guess that's better than the sidewalk tents becoming increasingly common in US big cities. They weren't abutting each other, and the derelicts weren't shooting up heroin in daylight, so I guess that's something.
Nonetheless, it is a bit disheartening, especially when there are help wanted signs begging for workers nearby.
We walked next to Casa Rosada, the executive manor of the President of Argentina. Locals say the building's pink color comes from mixing cow's blood with white paint, but another explanation is that it combined the white color associated with the Unitarians with the red color of the Federalists at the conclusion of a bloody civil war as a symbol of resolution. Most of us think of Casa Rosada as the place where Madonna playing the role of Argentina's First Lady Eva Peron sang "Don't Cry for Me Argentina" in the movie Evita.
Maria Eva Duarte de Peron was the illegitimate daughter of an upper-class man who bequeathed her only the right to use his last name after he died. She rose from impoverished, humble beginnings to become an actress during the Great Depression and then the most glamorous, honored woman in Argentina as the wife of President Juan Peron. More popular than her husband, she seemed destined to become his Vice President until she was struck down by cancer at age 33.
The four of us would visit her grave the next morning at Recoleta Cemetary, a remarkable site well worth visiting. The mausoleums and statues in this city of the departed make it widely agreed to be one of the most beautiful and interesting cemeteries in the world. A bit of rain added to the atmosphere and also snapped a hot spell.
On our first afternoon in Buenos Aires, however, Julie and I had sought plazas shaded by trees and highlighted with monuments. The plazas frequently turned out to be smaller than we imagined, but at lovely Plaza Dorrego we found tango dancers performing for tips among cafe tables beneath the sunshine as promised. This is what most people hope Buenos Aires will be like.
We found we had wandered a long way from our hotel, so we had an iced coffee that seemed more like a chocolate chip milk shake before starting the long trek back. We arrived exhausted, but after a shower and changing clothes, we were ready for happy hour.
Casa Calma has an honor bar in its tiny dining room. I arrived on a mission to bring Julie back a cappuccino and found Mike and Linda enjoying a bottle of Argentinian red wine and some local treats with a friend of their son Greg plus her husband and toddler.
After dropping off the coffee in the room for Julie, I selected a local beer from the honor bar and tried the delicious cheese rolls Greg's friend had brought.
Incidentally, Casa Calma served a diverse breakfast, including freshly made eggs with all the trimmings on demand, in the same room the next morning.
The big event for us was still to come. That night, we had tickets for the dinner show at La Ventana Tango.
As promised by Viator, the van picked us up at our hotel at 8 PM and whisked us to the barrio where most travel books say it is better not to walk.
Inside, it was everything we hoped it would be, with wine bottles stored along the wooden ceiling and old photos lining the staircase. Well, the line leading down the staircase wasn't what we wanted, but the underground restaurant was beautiful.
Contemplating the throng of people already packed in the room, I looked around the back to see if we would have views from those tables to which we would undoubtedly be relegated.
Only the Maitre d' instead said, "This way," and then surprisingly took us toward the front.
It turns out the words "VIP Sector" really did mean something.
We had great seats, very close to the stage with unobstructed views throughout the show!
However, first we would be served dinner.
I went with our waiter's recommendations right down the line from Empanadas to Meatball Soup to thick, juicy Steak to Pears Cooked in Malbec with Ice Cream, but it seemed everything on the menu was terrific based on our table, including the bottle of wine per couple.
Because Julie wanted white wine while I drink red, apparently Julie is Unitarian and I'm Federalist, though it has more historical relevance for us personally in regard to the War of the Roses. In any case, we were served two large glasses each, presumably adding up to a half bottle for each of us.
The show exceeded all expectations!
The dapper, talented band played lively music to which an impressive array of couples performed energetic, complex tango steps. After a particularly flourished dance --- I believe it was to "Hernando's Hideaway" --- we assumed the show must be over, but then a beautiful woman in an evening gown came out to sing "Don't Cry for Me Argentina."
Of course, I thought, the perfect grand finale for a Buenos Aires show.
Only it wasn't.
A tuxedoed leading man also sang a song. Then a group of Peruvian musicians appeared to do an instrumental version of the best-known song of that genre, "El Candor Pasa," which Simon & Garfunkel made famous, but they weren't just one-hit wonders. They played more songs, and then the percussionist did some crazy stuff, but nothing compared to a gaucho with lightening fast bolas that would have killed someone in the crowd had one of the straps broken.
The night went on and on, and everyone went away more than satisfied with a remarkable evening's meal and entertainment.
I strongly recommend that show for anyone spending an evening in Buenos Aires.
As for the rest of the city, there is much to see, so I would recommend a tour for that too. It's not that you can't see it on your own, but that involves a lot of roaming past less inviting areas as you find your way, whereas a tour will whisk you between the highlights so you are less likely to be distracted by the government failures to keep beautiful Buenos Aires fresh.
Getting to Argentina is challenging, but once you're there, Buenos Aires is an affordable destination with lots to do and see.
The Stricklands sided with King Charles I and the Royalists, and once again fought valiantly on the losing side of history, culminating with King Charles I being executed in 1649.
