SHAKESPEARE'S TOWN
To traverse Stratford-upon-Avon is to return upon old tracks, but
no matter how often you visit that delightful place you will always
see new sights in it and find new incidents. After repeated visits
to Shakespeare's town the traveller begins to take more notice than
perhaps at first he did of its everyday life. In former days the
observer had no eyes except for the Shakespeare shrines. The addition
of a new wing to the ancient, storied, home-like Red Horse, the new
gardens around the Memorial theatre, the completed chime of Trinity
bells,--these, and matters like to these, attract attention now. And
now, too, I have rambled, in the gloaming, through scented fields to
Clifford church; and strolled through many a green lane to beautiful
Preston; and climbed Borden hill; and stood by the maypole on Welford
common; and journeyed along the battle-haunted crest of Edgehill; and
rested at venerable Compton-Wynyate;[29] and climbed the hills of
Welcombe to peer into the darkening valleys of the Avon and hear the
cuckoo-note echoed and re-echoed from rhododendron groves, and from the
great, mysterious elms that embower this country-side for miles and
miles around. This is the life of Stratford to-day,--the fertile farms,
the garnished meadows, the avenues of white and coral hawthorn, masses
of milky snow-ball, honeysuckle and syringa loading the soft air with
fragrance, chestnuts dropping blooms of pink and white, and laburnums
swinging their golden censers in the breeze.
[Illustration: _Trinity Church--Stratford-upon-Avon._]
The building that forms the southeast corner of High street and Bridge
street in Stratford was once occupied by Thomas Quiney, a wine-dealer,
who married the poet's youngest daughter, Judith, and an inscription
appears upon it, stating that Judith lived in it for thirty-six years.
Richard Savage, that competent, patient, diligent student of the church
registers and other documentary treasures of Warwickshire, furnished
the proof of this fact, from investigation of the town records--which
is but one of many services that he has rendered to the old home of
Shakespeare. The Quiney premises are now occupied by Edward Fox, a
journalist, a printer, and a dealer in souvenirs of Shakespeare and of
Stratford. That house, in old times, was officially styled The Cage,
because it had been used as a prison. Standing in the cellar of it
you perceive that its walls are four feet thick. There likewise are
seen traces of the grooves down which the wine-casks were rolled, in
the days of Shakespeare's son-in-law, Thomas Quiney. The business now
carried on by Edward Fox has been established in Stratford more than
a hundred years, and, as this tenant has a long lease of the building
and is of an energetic spirit in his pursuits, it bids fair to last
as much longer. An indication of Mr. Fox's sagacity was revealed to me
in the cellar, where was heaped a quantity of old oak, taken, in 1887,
from the belfry of Trinity church, in which Shakespeare is buried.
This oak, which was there when Shakespeare lived, and which had to be
removed because a stronger structure was required for sustaining an
augmented chime of heavy bells, will be converted into various carved
relics, such as must find favour with Shakespeare worshippers,--of
whom more than sixteen thousand visited Stratford in 1887, at least
one-fourth of that number [4482] being Americans. A cross made of the
belfry wood is a pleasing souvenir of the hallowed Shakespeare church.
When the poet saw that church the tower was surmounted, not as now with
a graceful stone spire, but with a spire of timber, covered with lead.
This was removed, and was replaced by the stone spire, in 1763. The oak
frame to support the bells, however, had been in the tower more than
three hundred years.
[Illustration: _The Shakespeare Memorial Theatre._]
The two sculptured groups, emblematic of Comedy and Tragedy, which have
been placed upon the front of the Shakespeare Memorial theatre, are
the gain of a benefit performance, given in that building on August
29, 1885, by Miss Mary Anderson,[30] who then, for the first time in
her life, impersonated Shakespeare's Rosalind. That actress, after her
first visit to Stratford,--a private visit made in 1883,--manifested
a deep interest in the town, and because of her services to the
Shakespeare Memorial she is now one of its life-governors. Those
services completed the exterior decorations of the building. The emblem
of History had already been put in its place,--the scene in _King John_
in which Prince Arthur melts the cruel purpose of Hubert to burn out
his eyes. Tragedy is represented by Hamlet and the Gravedigger, in
their colloquy over Yorick's skull. In the emblem of Comedy the figure
of Rosalind is that of Miss Mary Anderson, in a boy's dress,--a figure
that may be deemed inadequate to the original, but one that certainly
is expressive of the ingenuous demeanour and artless grace of that
gentle lady. The grounds south of the Memorial are diversified and
adorned with lawns, trees, flowers, and commodious pathways, and that
lovely, park-like enclosure,--thus beautified through the liberality
of Charles Edward Flower [obiit, May 3, 1892], the original promoter of
the Memorial,--is now free to the people, "to walk abroad and recreate
themselves" beside the Avon. The picture gallery of the Memorial lacks
many things that are needed. The library continues to grow, but the
American department of it needs accessions. Every American edition
of Shakespeare ought to be there, and every book of American origin,
on a Shakespeare subject. It was at one time purposed to set up a
special case, surmounted with the American ensign, for the reception of
contributions from Americans. The library contained, in March, 1890,
five thousand seven hundred and ninety volumes, in various languages.
[Now, in 1896, it comprises about eight thousand volumes.] Of English
editions of the complete works of Shakespeare it contains two hundred
and nine. A Russian translation of Shakespeare, in nine volumes,
appears in the collection, together with three complete editions in
Dutch. An elaborate and beautiful catalogue of those treasures, made
by Mr. Frederic Hawley, records them in an imperishable form. Mr.
Hawley, long the librarian of the Memorial, died at Stratford on March
13, 1889, aged sixty-two, and was buried at Kensal Green, in London,
his wish being that his ashes should rest in that place. Mr. Hawley
had been an actor, under the name of Haywell, and he was the author of
more than one tragedy, in blank verse. Mr. A. H. Wall, who succeeded
him as librarian,[31] is a learned antiquary and an admired writer.
To him the readers of the _Stratford-upon-Avon Herald_ are indebted
for instructive articles,--notably for those giving an account of the
original Shakespeare quartos acquired for the Memorial library at the
sale of the literary property of J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps. Those
quartos are the _Merchant of Venice_, the _Merry Wives of Windsor_,
and a first edition of _Pericles_. A copy of _Roger of Faversham_ was
also bought, together with two of the plays of Aphra Behn. Charles
Edward Flower purchased, at that sale, a copy of the first folio of
Shakespeare, and the four Shakespeare Folios, 1623, 1632, 1663, 1685,
stand side by side in his private library at Avonbank. Mr. Flower
intimated the intention of giving them to the Memorial library. [His
death did not defeat that purpose. Those precious books are now in the
Memorial collection.]
A large collection of old writings was found in a room of the Grammar
School, adjacent to the Guild chapel, in 1887. About five thousand
separate papers were discovered, the old commingled with the new; many
of them indentures of apprenticeship; many of them receipts for money;
no one of them especially important, as bearing on the Shakespeare
story. Several of them are in Latin. The earliest date is 1560,--four
years before the poet was born. One document is a memorandum
"presenting" a couple of the wives of Stratford for slander of certain
other women, and quoting their bad language with startling fidelity.
Another is a letter from a citizen of London, named Smart, establishing
and endowing a free school in Stratford for teaching English,--the
writer quaintly remarking that schools for the teaching of Latin are
numerous, while no school for teaching English exists, that he can
discover. Those papers have been classified and arranged by Richard
Savage, but nothing directly pertinent to Shakespeare has been found in
them. I saw a deed that bore the "mark" of Joan, sister of Mary Arden,
Shakespeare's mother, but this may not be a recent discovery. All those
papers are written in that "cramped penmanship" which baffled Tony
Lumpkin, and which baffles wiser people than he was. Richard Savage,
however, is skilful in reading this crooked and queer calligraphy; and
the materials and the duty of exploring them are in the right hands.
When the researches and conclusions of that scholar are published
they will augment the mass of evidence already extant,--much of it
well presented by J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps,--that the writer of
Shakespeare's plays was a man familiar with the neighbourhood, the
names, and the everyday life of Stratford-upon-Avon; a fact which is
not without its admonitory suggestiveness to those credulous persons
who incline to heed the ignorant and idle theories and conjectures of
Mr. Ignatius Donnelly. That mistaken and somewhat mischievous writer
visited Shakespeare's town in the summer of 1888, and surveyed the
scenes that are usually viewed. "He did not address himself to me,"
said Miss Chattaway, who was then at the Birthplace, as its custodian;
"had he done so I should have informed him that, in Stratford, Bacon is
all gammon." She was right. So it is. And not alone in Stratford, but
wherever men and women have eyes to see and brains to understand.
[Illustration: _An Old Stratford Character: George Robbins. Died
September 17, 1889, aged 78._]
The spot on which Shakespeare died ought surely to be deemed as sacred
as the spot on which he was born: yet New Place is not as much visited
as the Birthplace,--perhaps because so little of it remains. Only
five hundred and thirty-seven visitors went there during the year
ending April 13, 1888.[32] In repairing the custodian's house at New
Place the crossed timbers in the one remaining fragment of the north
wall of the original structure were found, beneath plaster. Those
have been left uncovered and their dark lines add to the picturesque
effect of the place. The aspect of the old house prior to 1742 is
known but vaguely, if at all. Shakespeare bought it in 1597, when he
was thirty-three years old, and he kept it till his death, nineteen
years later. The street, Chapel lane, that separates it from the
Guild chapel was narrower than it is now, and the house stood in a
grassy enclosure, encompassed by a wall, the entrance to the garden
being at some distance eastward in the lane, toward the river. The
chief rooms in New Place were lined with square, sunken panels of
oak, which covered the walls from floor to roof and probably formed
the ceilings. Some of those panels,--obtained when the Rev. Francis
Gastrell tore down that house in 1759,--may be seen in a parlour of
the Falcon hotel, at the corner of Scholar's lane and Chapel street.
There is nothing left of New Place but the old well in the cellar,
the fragments of the foundation, the lintel, the armorial stone, and
the fragment of wall that forms part of the custodian's house. That
custodian, Mr. Bower Bulmer, a pleasant, appreciative, and genial man,
died on January 17, 1888, and his widow succeeded him in office.[33]
Another conspicuous and interesting Stratford figure, well known and
for a long time, was John Marshall, the antiquary, who died on June 26,
1887. Mr. Marshall occupied the building next but one to the original
New Place, on the north side,--the house once tenanted by Julius
Shaw, one of the five witnesses to Shakespeare's will. Mr. Marshall
sold Shakespeare souvenirs and quaint furniture. He had remarkable
skill in carving, and his mind was full of knowledge of Shakespeare
antiquities and the traditional lore of Stratford. His kindness,
his eccentric ways, his elaborate forms of speech, and his love and
faculty for art commended him to the respect and sympathy of all who
knew him. He was a character,--and in such a place as Stratford such
quaint beings are appropriate and uncommonly delightful. He will
long be kindly remembered, long missed from his accustomed round. He
rests now, in an unmarked grave, in Trinity churchyard, close to the
bank of the Avon,--just east of the stone that marks the sepulchre
of Mary Pickering; by which token the future pilgrim may know the
spot. Marshall was well known to me, and we had many a talk about
the antiquities of the town. Among my relics there was for some time
[until at last I gave it to Edwin Booth], a precious piece of wood,
bearing this inscription, written by him: "Old Oak from Shakespeare's
Birth-place, taken out of the building when it was Restored in 1858 by
Mr. William Holtom, the contractor for the restoration, who supplied
it to John Marshall, carver, Stratford-on-Avon, and presented by
him to W. Winter, August 27th, 1885, J. M." Another valued souvenir
of this quaint person, given by his widow to Richard Savage, of the
Birthplace,--a fine carved goblet, made from the wood of the renowned
mulberry-tree planted by the poet in the garden of New Place, and cut
down by the Rev. Francis Gastrell in 1756,--came into my possession, as
a birthday gift from Mr. Savage, on July 15, 1891.
At the Shakespeare Birthplace you will no longer meet with those
gentle ladies,--so quaint, so characteristic, so harmonious with the
place,--Miss Maria Chattaway and Miss Caroline Chattaway. The former
was the official custodian of the cottage, and the latter assisted
her in the work of its exposition. They retired from office in June,
1889, after seventeen years of service, the former aged seventy-six,
the latter seventy-eight; and now,--being infirm, and incapable of the
active, incessant labour that was required of them by the multitude
of visitors,--they dwell in a little house in the Warwick Road, where
their friends are welcomed, and where venerable and honoured age
may haunt the chimney-corner, and "keep the flame from wasting, by
repose."[34] The new guardian of the Shakespeare cottage is Joseph
Skipsey,[35] of Newcastle, the miner poet: for Mr. Skipsey was trained
in the mines of Northumberland, was long a labourer in them, and his
muse sings in the simple accents of nature. He is the author of an
essay on Burns, and of various other essays and miscellaneous writings.
An edition of his poems, under the title of _Carols, Songs, and
Ballads_ has been published in London, by Walter Scott, and that book
will be found interesting by those who enjoy the study of original
character and of a rhythmical expression that does not savour of any
poetical school. Mr. Skipsey is an elderly man, with grizzled hair,
a benevolent countenance, and a simple, cordial manner. He spoke to
me, with much animation, about American poets, and especially about
Richard Henry Stoddard, in whose rare and fine genius he manifested
a deep, thoughtful, and gratifying interest. The visitor no longer
hears that earnest, formal, characteristic recital, descriptive of the
house, that was given daily and repeatedly, for so many years, by Miss
Caroline Chattaway,--that delightful allusion to "the mighty dome"
that was the "fit place for the mighty brain." The Birthplace acquires
new treasures from year to year,--mainly in its library, which is kept
in perfect order by Richard Savage, that ideal antiquarian, who even
collects and retains the bits of the stone floor of the Shakespeare
room that become detached by age. In that library is preserved the
original manuscript of Wheler's _History of Stratford_, together with
his annotated and interleaved copy of the printed book, which is thus
enriched with much new material relative to the antiquities of the
storied town.
In the Washington Irving parlour of the Red Horse the American
traveller will find objects that are specially calculated to please
his fancy and to deepen his interest in the place. Among them are the
chair in which Irving sat; the sexton's clock to which he refers in
the _Sketch Book_; an autograph letter by him; another by Longfellow;
a view of Irving's house of Sunnyside; and pictures of Junius Booth,
Edwin Booth, the elder and the present Jefferson, Miss Mary Anderson,
Miss Ada Rehan, Elliston, Farren, Salvini, Henry Irving, and Miss Ellen
Terry. To invest that valued room with an atmosphere at once literary
and dramatic was the intention of its decorator, and this object has
been attained. When Washington Irving visited Stratford and lodged
at the Red Horse the "pretty chambermaid," to whom he alludes, in his
gentle and genial account of that experience, was Sally Garner,--then,
in fact, a middle-aged woman and plain rather than pretty. The head
waiter was William Webb. Both those persons lived to an advanced
age. Sally Garner was retired, on a pension, by Mr. Gardner, former
proprietor of the Red Horse, and she died at Tanworth (not Tamworth,
which is another place) and was buried there. Webb died at Stratford.
He had been a waiter at the Red Horse for sixty years, and he was
esteemed by all who knew him. His grave, in Stratford churchyard,
remained unmarked, and it is one among the many that, unfortunately,
were levelled and obliterated in 1888, under the rule of the present
vicar. A few of the older residents of the town might perhaps be able
to indicate its situation; but, practically, that relic of the past
is gone,--and with it has vanished an element of valuable interest to
the annual multitude of Shakespeare pilgrims upon whom the prosperity
of Stratford is largely dependent, and for whom, if not for the
inhabitants, every relic of its past should be perpetuated.[36] This
sentiment is not without its practical influence. Among other good
results of it is the restoration of the ancient timber front and the
quaint gables of the Shakespeare hotel, which, already hallowed by its
association with Garrick and the Jubilee of September 7, 1769, has now
become one of the most picturesque, attractive, and representative
buildings in Stratford.
There is a resolute disposition among Stratford people to save and
perpetuate everything that is associated, however remotely, with the
name of Shakespeare. Mr. Charles Frederick Loggin,[37] a chemist in the
High street, possesses a lock and key that were affixed to one of the
doors in New Place, and also a sundial that reposed upon a pedestal
in New Place garden, presumably in Shakespeare's time. The lock is
made of brass; the key of iron, with an ornamented handle, of graceful
design, but broken. On the lock appears an inscription stating that
it was "taken from New Place in the year 1759, and preserved by John
Lord, Esq." The sundial is made of copper, and upon its surface are
Roman numerals distributed around the outer edge of the circle that
encloses its rays. The corners of the plate are broken, and one side
of it is bent. This injury was done to it by thieves, who wrenched it
from its setting, on a night in 1759, and were just making away with it
when they were captured and deprived of their plunder. The sundial also
bears an inscription, certifying that it was preserved by Mr. Lord. New
Place garden was at one time owned by one of Mr. Loggin's relatives,
and from that former owner those Shakespeare relics were derived.
Shakespeare's hand may have touched that lock, and Shakespeare's eyes
may have looked upon that dial,--perhaps on the day when he made Jaques
draw the immortal picture of Touchstone in the forest, moralising on
the flight of time and the evanescence of earthly things. [_As You Like
It_ was written in 1599-1600.]
[Illustration: _Anne Hathaway's Cottage._]
Another remote relic of Shakespeare is the shape of the foundation
of Bishopton church, which remains traced, by ridges of the velvet
sod, in a green field a little to the northwest of Stratford, in
the direction of Wilmcote,--the birthplace of Shakespeare's mother,
Mary Arden. The parish of Bishopton adjoins that of Shottery, and
Bishopton is one of three places that have commonly been mentioned
in association with Shakespeare's marriage with Anne Hathaway. Many
scholars, indeed, incline to think that the wedding occurred there. The
church was destroyed about eighty years ago. The house in Wilmcote,
in which, as tradition declares, Mary Arden was born, is seen at the
entrance to the village, and is conspicuous for its quaint dormer
windows and for its mellow colours and impressive antiquity. Wilmcote
is rougher in aspect than most of the villages of Warwickshire, and
the country immediately around it is wild and bleak; but the hedges
are full of wildflowers and are haunted by many birds; and the wide,
green, lonesome fields, especially when you see them in the gloaming,
possess that air of melancholy solitude,--vague, dream-like, and poetic
rather than sad,--which always strongly sways the imaginative mind.
Inside the Mary Arden cottage I saw nothing remarkable, except the
massive old timbers. That house as well as the Anne Hathaway cottage
at Shottery, will be purchased and added to the other several Trusts,
of Shakespeare's Birthplace, the Museum, and New Place.[38] The Anne
Hathaway cottage needs care, and as an authentic relic of Shakespeare
and a charming bit of rustic antiquity its preservation is important,
as well to lovers of the poet, all the world over, as to the town of
Stratford, which thrives by his renown. The beautiful Guild chapel also
needs care. The hand of restoration should, indeed, touch it lightly
and reverently; but restored it must be, at no distant day, for every
autumn storm shakes down fragments of its fretted masonry and despoils
the venerable grandeur of that gray tower on which Shakespeare so
often gazed from the windows of his hallowed home. Whatever is done
there, fortunately for the Shakespearean world, will be done under the
direction of a man of noble spirit, rare ability, sound scholarship,
and fine taste,--the Rev. R. S. DeCourcy Laffan, head-master of the
Grammar School and therefore pastor of the Guild.[39] Liberal in
thought, manly in character, simple, sincere, and full of sensibility
and goodness, that preacher strongly impresses all who approach him,
and is one of the most imposing figures in the pulpit of his time. And
he is a reverent Shakespearean.
A modern feature of Stratford, interesting to the Shakespeare pilgrim,
is Lord Ronald Gower's statue of the poet, erected in October, 1888,
in the Memorial garden. That work is infelicitous in its site and
not fortunate in all of its details, but in some particulars it is
fine. Upon a huge pedestal appears the full-length bronze figure of
Shakespeare, seated in a chair, while at the four corners of the base
are bronze effigies of Hamlet, Lady Macbeth, Henry the Fifth, and
Falstaff. Hamlet is the expression of a noble ideal. The face and
figure are wasted with misery, yet full of thought and strength. The
type of man thus embodied will at once be recognised,--an imperial,
powerful, tender, gracious, but darkly introspective nature, broken
and subjugated by hopeless grief and by vain brooding over the mystery
of life and death. Lady Macbeth is depicted in her sleep-walking, and,
although the figure is treated in a conventional manner, it conveys
the idea of remorse and of physical emaciation from suffering, and
likewise the sense of being haunted and accursed. Prince Henry is
represented as he may have appeared when putting on his dying father's
kingly crown. The figure is lithe, graceful, and spirited; the pose
is true and the action is natural; but the personality is deficient of
identity and of royal distinction. Falstaff appears as a fat man who is
a type of gross, chuckling humour; so that this image might stand for
Gambrinus. The intellect and the predominant character of Falstaff are
not indicated. The figures are dwarfed, furthermore, by the size of the
stone that they surround,--a huge pillar, upon which appropriate lines
from Shakespeare have been inscribed. The statue of Shakespeare shows
a man of solid self-concentration and adamantine will; an observer,
of universal view, and incessant vigilance. The chief feature of it
is the piercing look of the eyes. This is a man who sees, ponders,
and records. Imagination and sensibility, on the other hand, are not
suggested. The face lacks modelling: it is as smooth as the face of
a child; there is not one characteristic curve or wrinkle in all its
placid expanse. Perhaps it was designed to express an idea of eternal
youth. The man who had gained Shakespeare's obvious experience must
have risen to a composure not to be ruffled by anything that this world
can do, to bless or to ban a human life. But the record of his struggle
must have been written in his face. This may be a fine statue of a
practical thinker, but it is not the image of a poet and it is not an
adequate presentment of Shakespeare. The structure stands on the south
side of the Memorial building and within a few feet of it, so that it
is almost swallowed up by what was intended for its background. It
would show to better advantage if it were placed further to the south,
looking down the long reach of the Avon toward Shakespeare's church.
The form of the poet could then be seen from the spot on which he
died, while his face would still look, as it does now, toward his tomb.
[Illustration: THE GOWER STATUE]
A constant stream of American visitors pours annually through the Red
Horse. Within three days of July, 1889, more than a hundred American
names appeared in the register. The spirit of Washington Irving is
mighty yet. Looking through a few of the old registers of this house, I
read many familiar names of distinguished Americans. Bayard Taylor came
here on July 23, 1856; James E. Murdoch, the famous Hamlet and Mirabel
of other days, on August 31, 1856; Rev. Francis Vinton on June 10,
1857; Henry Ward Beecher on June 22, 1862; Elihu Burritt, "the learned
blacksmith," on September 19, 1865; George Ripley on May 12, 1866.
Poor Artemas Ward arrived on September 18, 1866,--only a little while
before his death, which occurred in March, 1867, at Southampton. The
Rev. Charles T. Brooks, translator of _Faust_, registered his name here
on September 20, 1866. Charles Dudley Warner came on May 6, 1868; Mr.
and Mrs. W. J. Florence on May 29, 1868; and S. R. Gifford and Jervis
M'Entee on the same day. The poet Longfellow, accompanied by Thomas
Appleton, arrived on June 23, 1868. Those Red Horse registers contain
a unique and remarkable collection of autographs. Within a few pages,
I observed the curiously contrasted signatures of Cardinal Wiseman,
Sam Cowell, the Duc d'Aumale, Tom Thumb, Miss Burdett-Coutts (1861),
Blanchard Jerrold, Edmund Yates, Charles Fechter, Andrew Carnegie,
David Gray (of Buffalo), the Duchess of Coburg, Moses H. Grinnell,
Lord Leigh, of Stoneleigh Abbey, J. M. Bellew, Samuel Longfellow,
Charles and Henry Webb (the Dromios), Edna Dean Proctor, Gerald Massey,
Clarence A. Seward, Frederick Maccabe, M. D. Conway, the Prince of
Condé, and John L. Toole. That this repository of autographs is
appreciated may be inferred from the fact that special vigilance has to
be exercised to prevent the hotel registers from being carried off or
mutilated. The volume containing the signature of Washington Irving was
stolen years ago and it has been vaguely heard of as being in America.
There is a collection of autographs of visitors to the Shakespeare
Birthplace that was gathered many years since by Mary Hornby,
custodian of that cottage [it was she who whitewashed the walls, in
order to obliterate the writings upon them, when she was removed
from her office, in 1820], and this is now in the possession of
her granddaughter, Mrs. Smith,[40] a resident of Stratford; but
many valuable names have been taken from it,--among others that of
Lord Byron. The mania for obtaining relics of Stratford antiquity
is remarkable. Mention is made of an unknown lady who came to the
birth-room of Shakespeare, and after begging in vain for a piece of the
woodwork or of the stone, presently knelt and wiped the floor with her
glove, which then she carefully rolled up and secreted, declaring that
she would, at least, possess some of the dust of that sacred chamber.
It is a creditable sentiment, though not altogether a rational one,
that impels devotional persons to such conduct as that; but the entire
Shakespeare cottage would soon disappear if such a passion for relics
were practically gratified. The elemental feeling is one of reverence,
and this is perhaps indicated in the following lines with which the
present writer began a new volume of the Red Horse register, on July
21, 1889:--
SHAKESPEARE.
While evening waits and hearkens,
While yet the song-bird calls,--
Before the last light darkens,
Before the last leaf falls,--
Once more with reverent feeling
This sacred shrine I seek,
By silent awe revealing
The love I cannot speak.
[Illustration]