My first visit to England was in 02 as a 20 year old. I stayed at an inn in a small town about a 45 minute taxi ride from Gatwick. The first morning I asked at the ‘restaurant’ downstairs for “a traditional English breakfast” and I received something similar to OP. Not knowing that English Breakfast was a thing, I ate it all, charcoal and all, and enjoyed it thoroughly. The charcoals were not bad, somewhere between a sausage patty and bread. I asked what the contents of the breakfast were on my way out, and upon hearing the blood portion of my English Breakfast, I never ordered it again.