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THE HESPERIAN
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windows casts upon tho arched ceilings,
browned with age, a reflection of sombre
light which fills us with a sort of pleasing
thoughtful ness, as wo reverently tread tho
gray stone slabs covering tho remains of de
parted persons, and in deep meditation wo
stand before the grave of Shakespeare. The
chancel railing keeps the visitor without the
continuous line of blue grey slab stones, under
which lie the family of the poet. To the ex
treme left, close to the wall, lies Shakes
peare's wife, next to her the poet himself,
and inscribed on the stone over his grave are"
the well known words which are apt to fill
the mind of the visitor with a kind of horror
mingled with superstition.
"Good friend for Jesus sake forbeare,
To digg the dust encloased hear,
Blese be ye may yt spares thes stones
Ane curst be he yt moves my bones."
On the left wall near what is known as
the "American Window," rests a bust of
Shakespeare, cut by one Girard Johnson,
native of Amsterdam, supposed to bo copied
from a mask of the features taken after
death. I spent an hour in the church ex
ploring its several nooks and corners, often
times sitting down in one of the straight
backed pews, lost in revery by the solemnity
of my surroundings. With regret 1 turned
mj' face to the door, glancing as I passed at
the little stone font and the register which
marks to the world its first authentic knowl
edge of the life of William Shakespeare.
Again I slowly walked down the avenue of
tombstones, passed through the gate to the
church yard into the street. The peaceful
Avon is only a few rods distant flowing on
to the Severn. There is almost a deathlike
stillness everywhere, and it is only now and
then that tho traveler may meet any of tho
residents of Stratford in this solemn and
revered spot.
A short distance from tho intersection of
High and Bridge streets which marks tho
center of tho village, on Henry street stands
the house, in which Shakespeare was born; a
little two story cottage built of hewn timber
and plaster. The windows are small and
on the outside walls of tho house are narrow
handed strips running vertically and hori
zontally. Its goncral appearance has changed
more or less from that of its early days as it
was necessary to repair it from time to time,
being used for different purposes by its many
owners, as their poverty required. It was
built probably about tho time of William tho
Conqueror, and was occupied by Shake
speare's father in 1555 until 1601, when it
became the property of the poet by descent.
From the street one steps directly into a
room with a flag stono floor and a low ceil
ing. To the right is a large open firc-placo
with a small stono seat on either side, on
which no doubt many a winter evening
Shakespeare sat and dreamed, and built
pleasant visions of fancy as the flames rolled
up tho wide chimney from the tire at his
feet. From this room I passed up an old
stairway almost worn through and stood on
a wooden floor in which the heads of the
nails glistened like silver. The plastering
on the ceiling, which I could easily reach
with my hand, was entirely covered with
names of persons who had in former times
visited the place. A portion of tho wall
which had threatened to fall in had been
covered with a lace work of laths. In tho
middle of the west wall facing the street was
tho original window, and on its little square
panes of white glass were scratched many
names. One I noticed in particular was
"W. Scott," written by Sir Walter Scott
when on his visit to tho homo of Shake
speare. Edmund Kean had written his
name on a portion of tho chimney piece.
The name of Thackeray appeared on tho ceil
ing close besido that of Helen Faucet. So
also are to be seen tho names of Charles
Dickens, Lord Byron and a host of others
who had como to do homage to so illustrious
a man. In one corner of tho room stands an
old chair and on a table to tho right of the
door as you enter is a marble bust of Shake
speare. Here it is said Shakespeare was
born. In another room are shown many
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