STRATFORD AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD.
After absence from a well-known locality how fresh and verdant seems
every spot there. The mind which has dwelt, again and again, upon every
nook and corner, unmarked perhaps and unappreciated whilst in the
neighbourhood, becomes enamoured absolutely of trivialities and trifles.
How well doth the exile, eating the bitter bread of banishment, perhaps
breathing the hot air of the tropics, many, many thousand leagues from
the quiet village in which he first drew breath--how well doth he
recollect, and dwell with fondness upon each street or lane of the
village suburb, the school-boy spot, the home the wanderer longs for
with an undying desire!
And if such be the case, how anxiously, and even sadly, do we think upon
those relatives and friends domesticated in the far-away home, and see
them in their old-accustomed places. Relations so dear and friends so
esteemed, yet, perhaps, never again to be met with in life, and
therefore more cherished in our thoughts.
And Shakespeare had oft-times felt this anxiety during the time his
self-exile lasted. In his own mind he had resolved that, until he had
"name and fame," he had "nothing at Stratford." Those dearly loved
friends should not again look upon the unthrift younker; and unless the
man redeemed the courses wild of the youth, he would no more return.
How far he had already succeeded our readers have seen; and even the
little world of Stratford began to feel pride in him they had before so
lightly regarded.
Master William Shakespeare, it was affirmed amongst the wise-acres of
the Falcon Inn, had indited two several poems, some said three, of such
exceeding merit, that they had afforded exceeding delight to the
grandees and gallants of Elizabeth's court. Sonnets, too, innumerable,
had fallen amongst the fair dames of the palace, like the perfumed
flowers blown by the sweet south.
Nay, William Shakespeare was said to be a favourite with the Queen
herself. Two plays he had also produced--plays of most exquisite fancy.
The Adonis of the Court,--the "wealthy-curled darling of the land," the
favourite Essex, was his personal friend. My Lord Southampton his
patron. And more than this, than these, than all, William Shakespeare
had made money, thriven, purchased property, become a proprietor of one
of the theatres in London.
"'Fore Heaven, I wonder what made him ever go away from us?' said Master
Mumble, the head-bailiff.
"I always said there was something in him," said Master Lamb.
"He was ever a clever dog though a mischievous one," said Cramboy.
"Dost think he will come back amongst us?" inquired Teazle. "Methinks I
long to look upon one who hath written three poems, a whole litany of
sonnets, and two masques or mysteries."
"An he do come amongst us again," said the head-bailiff, "I, for one,
vote we make him master of the free school."
"Nay," said Cramboy, "I know not how far to agree with you there, before
we go to such lengths, let us peruse his works; there is some
difference, my masters all, between teaching one's boys their _quis_,
their _quaes_, and their _quods_, and writing jingling rhymes for the
amusement of the Londoners and the Court."
"Well," said the mayor, "we might make him parish-clerk. Something we
ought to offer him, methinks, an he comes back amongst us. Body o' me,
hath he not written two poems and a play? There be those amongst us who
cannot even write their own names, much more a poem such as 'tis said
this William Shakespeare hath produced."
"Hath any one seen these poems you speak of?" inquired Master Scourge.
"Truly, I believe mine host hath a copy of one brought from London by a
gentleman of the Court, and left behind him. I saw it myself not a week
ago and looked at the title-page, 'tis called Tartquin and Lucrece, a
very clever book, if I may judge from the look of the binding."
"We will see that poem," said the bailiff; and the host, being
accordingly summoned, produced a small volume, which the head-bailiff
with infinite gravity, after laying aside his pipe and adjusting his
spectacles, proceeded to read. Scarcely, however, had he got through one
verse ere he paused and looked over his glasses at the grave auditors
who sat in judgment upon the production, whilst they themselves puffed
out such clouds of smoke, that it appeared they were resolved the
bailiff should scarce observe the impression produced.
"You do not speak, my masters," said the head-bailiff, "have you heard?"
"Perfectly," returned Master Cramboy.
"And do you approve?" inquired the head-bailiff.
"Ahem," said the mercer, "'Speak that I may know thee,' saith the
proverb; proceed;" and the bailiff read another verse.
"Fie! fie!" said Master Teazle, "what stuff is here? My service to you,
my masters all, and a merry Christmas. How say you now to making Master
William Shakespeare master of the free school,--eh?"
"Shall I proceed any further?" inquired the head-bailiff.
"Not a line," said Cramboy. "I feel quite scandalized. What a depraved
taste the Court must have! Allow me, however to look at the binding of
this volume," and Cramboy quietly noted down where the book was to be
bought in order that he might procure and read it as soon as he could,
the rest of the company quietly following his example.
"Well," said John Peto, the tanner, "after all what is fame? Here hath
our fellow-townsman gained much celebrity by such matter as we have
heard. Trash, my masters; lies, conjured up by the fumes of sack and
Canary. Marry, the lad hath a quick wit, I dare be sworn, but how he
hath gotten himself into the good graces of the powerful by such matter
I marvel."
"I remember me," said Master Richard Coomb, (who was known amongst his
co-mates by the sobriquet of Thin Beard, from the circumstance of his
wearing a starved cane-coloured beard), "I remember me that our
townsman, John Shakespeare, father of this William, had from his youth
upwards, a quick and shrewd wit. Nay, by 'ur Lady, he must be about my
own age; by the same token I played oft-times with him when he was a boy
and living with his father at Snitterfield."
"Aye," said Mumble, "he came to Stratford from Snitterfield. He held
lands there when he was better off. Did'st know Richard Shakespeare,
grandfather to this William? He was well to do, and had lands and beeves
at Snitterfield."
"I did know him," returned Coomb; "that is, I do remember me of him. By
'ur Lady, a proper man of his hands as ever you would wish to look
on,--aye, and a pleasant man to speak with too."
"Did not your brother, John Coomb, accommodate Master John Shakespeare,
at his need, with moneys, not long back?" inquired Cramboy.
"In sooth did he," returned Thin Beard, "more than once, I can tell
thee."
"And did I not hear that John Coomb pressed him hard for repayment, and
would have clapped him up in jail but for the debt being defrayed by
this poet of our's,--this William his son,--so soon as he became aware
of it?"
"Nay, 'tis true enough," said Thin Beard; "I may not deny that my
brother doth press hard for moneys due."
"Go to," said Mumble; "we all know John Coomb and his usances well
enough without your confession. 'Tis creditable to Master hath been
given to courses wild. I like him better for his befriending his father
than for his poetry."
"Come," said the head bailiff, laying down his pipe, and rising from his
chair, "Let us drink the health of our good townsman, since he hath so
far done honour to the place of his birth. Who knows, he may do even
better yet! We have not altogether approved of the production here
before us, peradventure his songs and sonnets are in better taste than
his lampoons. Fill, my masters, to the brim. Since the Queen delights to
honour Master Shakespeare, here's his health, and may he soon return
amongst us!"
And if such was the feeling entertained towards the poet by the more
mechanical portion of the community of Stratford, those of higher degree
felt a proportionable share of respect, since they could better
appreciate his merits.
And now, having once more returned to the spot from whence we started,
we must again revisit some of the localities in and around that sweet
neighbourhood. Sir Hugh Clopton having also returned from London on
business of import, is once more to be seen in his old dwelling.
Since we last beheld him located there, many stirring events have
transpired. His life, on the whole, has passed, since the action with
the Armada, in ease and quietude. At the present moment, however, he is
in some trouble, consequent upon the untoward events connected with his
nephew. Nay, he has returned to London for the purpose of parting with
all he possesses, so that he may but pay off the huge debts Walter
Arderne has become liable for, and save him from the other difficulties
he is surrounded by.
It is now far advanced in the month of September. The season is wet and
dreary,--one of those unhealthy seasons which produce much sickness
throughout the land. The continued rain had flooded the country around.
The roads, never at this period good, are now almost impassable. The
woods are wrapped in mist, and the marsh lands a perfect sea.
"The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrain flocks,
The nine men's morris is filled up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green,
For lack of tread, are undistinguishable;
Whilst on old Hyem's chin and icy crown,
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds,
Is, as in mockery, set."
Sir Hugh, after conferance with his man of business, is preparing in a
few days again to set off for London. A journey of such extent is,
however, matter of some consideration and considerable danger at such a
season, with weather so unpropitious.
As the old knight looks out upon the chase, the gloom of the aspect adds
to the gloom of his spirits.
Such a prospect is always calculated to beget a certain share of
despondency, even in the most cheerful temper, and Sir Hugh has had
enough of sorrow in his time to make him rather a grave than a merry
companion.
The old knight, however, is not the man to give way to despair under
circumstances like the present.
"Goods news, an Heaven will," he said, as he suddenly descried a
horseman, with head bent to the saddle-bow, come sparring against the
driving wind, his cloak blown into a balloon, the mire and water flying
into the air as he dashed across the chase towards the mansion.
During the prevalence of heavy and continued rain, any object which
enlivens the wet landscape, even in our own dull times, becomes of
interest. In Elizabeth's day, when so many events of import were
transpiring, and when news came but rarely to a country place, the
arrival of a post as tho armed and heavily-accoutred horseman was
called was of peculiar interest. He brought, perhaps, intelligence of
the danger or death of those nearest and dearest, and now heard for the
first time. He bore, perchance, some secret intelligence of warning,
some caution against an imminent, deadly foe, some hint to put the seas
between the receiver and his native land.
To Sir Hugh the sight of the coming horseman, as he emerged from the
belt of plantation, and dashed into the open chase, was fraught almost
with alarm.
"God grant," he said, an he strained his eyes to observe if he could
recognize the features of the rider, "that this new comer may bring me
good tidings of our Walter."
The increasing gloom, however, for it was now evening, hindered the
knight from recognizing the person of the horseman. He heard the clatter
of the hoofs of the steed along the approach, and, as he threw open the
door, the rider having dismounted, unceremoniously entered the room. The
next moment his hand was caught in the iron gripe of Captain Fluellyn.
"Thou hast news, Captain," said Sir Hugh, "news of import, or thou
would'st scarce have left my nephew in his captivity?"
"I _have_ news, good Sir Hugh," said the Captain; "and when I have in
something recovered wind enough, I will unfold it to you!"
"Good! an Heaven will," said Sir Hugh; "my nephew, good Captain--?"
"Is well," returned the Captain, "and commends him to you. Nay, he is,
in some sort, out of his difficulties--that is to say, in as far as the
charge of treason goeth."
"Nay, then, Heaven be praised for that!" said Sir Hugh, "for the other
matter, the worst is but worldly loss."
"We are not so sure of that, either," returned the Captain, "affairs
have altogether taken a new turn. Your nephew hath desired my return at
once to inform you thereof, so as to stop your making any sacrifice of
property."
"'Fore Heaven, this doth surprise me!" said the Knight, "but come, we
will hear such matter at more leisure, and after you have refreshed
yourself, for you seem to have ridden far and fast since morning."
"I have," said the Captain. "I am stained with variation of each soil,
'twist this seat of yours and the town of Oxford, and the ways are
wondrous foul and hard to travel over, too. A cup of wine and a rasher
will be welcome."
"You shall have the best that Clopton can afford," said the Knight,
hurrying out, and calling lustily to his servants to prepare the evening
meal without delay.
Accordingly, the Captain, having divested himself of his heavy
riding-cloak, and removed the long petronels, rapier, and dagger from
his side, was in a few minutes more seated cozily in a high-backed chair
beneath the chimney, and opposite his host.
Between the pair stood a small table, plentifully furnished with several
sorts of wine. A glorious log of wood blazed upon the hearth, and whilst
the servants brought in the refreshments which furnished forth the
evening meal, the new comer between each mouthful delivered his news to
the greedy ears of his host.
"Many events of import have transpired," said he, as he at length pushed
his plate from him, in token that the inner man was satisfied; "aye, and
that too in the short period since you left London to arrange matters
here. In the first place, I need not inform you that both yourself and
Walter Arderne had a secret foe at Court."
"Of that I have long been aware," said Sir Hugh.
"Most probably," said the Captain. "A foe is generally found sooner or
later, like the blind mole, by the effects of his progress; but I have
unearthed this mole."
"Good," said Sir Hugh, "that's a point gained any how."
"Nay, more, I have discovered you have also a secret and powerful friend
at Court, and the friend is more powerful than the foe. Witness the
effects. Your nephew is released from all responsibility on the subject
of the treasonable charge trumped up against him, and, as he himself
bade me deliver to you, is in a fair way of getting rid also of other
matters appertaining."
"And how is this derived?" said Sir Hugh. "You amaze me with so much
good news, I pray you expound unto me the names of these persons who
have interested themselves for and against me and mine. Set this foe
before me, that I may know him, good Captain. 'Fore Heaven, I am old,
but I have still some skill in fence. Thou shalt bear a cartel to the
caitiff."
"It could be easily done," returned the Captain, filling his pipe and
puffing out a volume of smoke.
"'Fore gad, then," said Sir Hugh, lighting a fellow pipe, and performing
upon it with equal gusto, "you shall find it shall be as promptly done."
"Have you ever had personal quarrel with the Earl of Leicester?"
inquired the Captain.
"None, as I am a gentleman," said Sir Hugh.
"And yet," said the Captain, "hath it been through his means that your
nephew's late troubles have been brought to a serious issue, so indeed
as to threaten his life as well as deprive him of his liberty."
"Were he twenty times an earl," said Sir Hugh, "he shall answer it. Thou
shalt seek him, Captain, in my name, and demand the why and wherefore."
"I had much rather be excused," said the Captain, eyeing the gyrations
of the smoke, and then peeping at Sir Hugh.
"How?" said Sir Hugh. "Wilt not be then my friend, good Captain? Well,
be it so, I will to my good neighbour, Sir Thomas Lucy. He is a man to
beard fifty earls, be they ever so powerful."
"Sir Thomas Lucy could hardly do your message either," said the Captain.
"Ha, say'st thou! Truly, then, thou knowest not the goodness and
hot-valour of the knight of Charlecote; he is a true friend, and right
honest. But wherefore should Sir Thomas refuse to carry a cartel to the
Earl?"
"Because Sir Thomas would scarce carry a cartel to one unable to reply
to it," said the Captain. "The Earl of Leicester is dead. He died two
nights back at Cornbury, on his way to Kenilworth. So much I learnt as I
tarried at Oxford, where, moreover, I further heard strange rumours of
the manner of his death."
"Gad-a-mercy!" said Sir Hugh, "this doth indeed surprise me. What a
world is this we live in. Dead, quotha! and mine enemy too! Well this is
news, indeed. But then this friend at Court, good Captain? methinks I
should not forget to ask for him."
"Ahem!" said the Captain. "Of that, anon. Bless me! how heavily the rain
beats against the casement. Foul weather this, good Sir Hugh, for
travellers. Truly the night hath come down dark, as a wolf's mouth, and
ways be both foul and dangerous."
"Hast any friend on the road to-night, good Captain?" inquired Sir Hugh.
"I was consorted," said the Captain, "as far as Oxford by one who
over-rode me on the way soon after leaving London, and whom I left at
Oxford with a purpose of following hitherward. He is a native of
Stratford, and one of pleasanter mood I never travelled withal. The man,
I think, you know."
"And his name?" inquired Sir Hugh. "Come, fill your glass."
"William Shakespeare," said the Captain. "He who wrote the play we saw
in London."
Sir Hugh laid down his pipe, and rose to his feet. "Is Shakespeare
coming back?" he said. "'Fore Heaven, thou canst not think, my good
friend the pleasure such information gives me. Thou canst not tell what
I feel towards that young man--so little known, yet so well
appreciated."
"Ha," said the Captain, "so have I heard you say."
"I have before named to thee," said Sir Hugh, "former passages in which
my family became acquainted with this Shakespeare, and how we received
an inestimable service from him in his early youth. And I tell thee now
my very soul yearned to go to that man when in London and clasp him to
my heart, but I was ashamed. I gave ear to the tales of his enemies; I
believed him to have become worthless and an outcast in the world. And,
as I shamed to take part with him in adversity, so I shame to see his
face in his hour of triumph. But I love that man. Nay, I am old,
Captain, but the words of his poetry, as we listened to it that night,
yet ring in mine ears."
"Truly then," said the Captain, whose rough nature was in something
moved, "your friendship is not ill bestowed. This Shakespeare hath
bestirred himself in your nephew's favour, and procured his release from
the graver charge of treason. He hath interested the Queen, through my
Lords of Essex and Southampton, and hath given me a clue by which I have
discovered the villany of our Stratford lawyer here, Pouncet Grasp, the
secret foe through whose influence the Earl of Leicester was made
instrumental. Nay, Shakespeare hath been your good friend, Sir Hugh."
"And is he in sooth coming back to Stratford?" said Sir Hugh, rubbing
his hands. "In prosperity or adversity, he shall be welcome as if he
were mine own son."
"Truly," said the Captain, "I can in some sort almost feel the same
towards this friend of thine, for never travelled I with one who so
cheered the long miles 'twixt post and post. He was right pleasant and
facetious all the miry way 'twixt Acton and Oxbridge. I wished the miles
twice us long whilst we pricked across the waste land towards
Beaconsfield. Neither wind nor rain, or mud or mire, could alter his
merry mood, as, by night, we made our way towards Walting Town; and when
we lost our route, and were nearly drowned in the marshes of Abingdon,
he turned our danger into a jest. Nothing came amiss to this
Shakespeare; he had a saying for every mistake, and a good word for
every misfortune."
"Such a comrade," said Sir Hugh, "were worth something on a journey."
"Nay, Sir Hugh," returned the Captain, "I have travelled far and near,
yet never met I with such another. By 'ur Lady, I have consorted with
your Dane, drank with your Hollander, revelled with your Frenchman, and
fought with your Spaniard, yet none did I ever find who could hold
comparison with this man."
"I marvel you came not on further together," said Sir Hugh, "since you
so well relished his companionship."
"He tarried, as I told you, at Oxford," returned the Captain, "where it
seems he had appointed to meet other company. Nay, I myself also tarried
one night at Oxford, to rest my horse. We put up at the hostel of the
Crown, and, in sooth, a merrier night I never spent withal. This
Shakespeare hath a peculiar art. He made himself familiar amidst the
various guests, and drew them out to exhibit themselves after the most
exquisite fashion. Nay, the hostess of the Crown was herself a woman of
exceeding wit and beauty, and seemed to relish the society of the
player."
"I know that hostel," said Sir Hugh. "'Tis kept by one Davenant; and the
hostess is indeed, as you say, 'a most sweet wench.'"[26]
[Footnote 26: There is an anecdote extant in Oxfordshire, of the
intimacy subsisting between this hostess and Shakespeare. Shakespeare is
said to have always rested at the Crown, at Oxford, whilst _en route_
from London to Stratford.]