Stratford Upon Avon - Day 1

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Geo: 52.1898, -1.71309

Today I was up and packed and ready to head to Stratford-Upon-Avon, the birthplace of the great bard, William Shakespeare. Three trains later I arrived in this little country town railway station. There is no tourist information booth, I walk out of the station, no cabs and I can't tell which direction I need to go. I can't see much of anything really. As I walked along the front of the station I see a map on the wall...Thank god! From the map I could figure out where I was, where the town center is and most importantly, where the tourist office is. So off I set, to walk the entire length of the town to the tourist office at the opposite end.

When I got to the tourist office I found there are actually five houses of Shakespeare. 1) his birthplace 2) the new house, where he lived in with his wife and children 3) Anne Hathaway's cottage where he fell in lurve 4) Mary Ardens farm where his mother grew up and 5) Halls Croft where his daughter and her husband lived. Its a good thing there were not a lot of Shakespeare's (his grandchildren were the last of his line) Otherwise there would be 50 "houses of Shakespeare and that might be a little much. I decided on a three house ticket and went for lunch at the Pen and Parchment across the road.

I couldn't check into my B&B until 3 so everywhere I went I had to lug my bag with me. Fortunately I've left most of my stuff back at Trish & Jussies place in London so I'm traveling light. The first port of call was the birthplace of Shakespeare. This is the house that he grew up in. It is where his father made gloves to sell in the local market. Before walking into the house I walked through the display center. They had big screens playing out all the different interpretations of his work. There was the classical stage show, a Maori performance, rappers belting out his sonnets up to Leonardo Decaprio's Romeo and Juliet. For a 450 year old playwright, he certainly knows how to capture the imagination

The house itself is in the old Tudor style. It has wonky floors and rickety staircases but that adds to the charm of the place. They were a middle class family, with a reasonable size house. When I say reasonable, it had six rooms, and they subleased one of them, The family lived in the other five rooms. Will was one of eight children, but only five of them survived childhood. The house has been furnished as it would have been at the time, although obviously not the original furnishings. As they were middle class they had actual beds in two of the rooms. One downstairs in the "guest room" and one upstairs. Beds where a status symbol back in the 1500's. Not everyone could afford them. So the "best" bed was in the guest room, where the family could "show off" their wealth. Sort of like parking a benz in the driveway.

In one of the rooms, they had set up a workshop for making gloves like Will's father would have done. Although it is unknown if he worked from home or not. Fun facts, white or black gloves were the most expensive as they had to be dyed or bleached. Everyone had to work as though they were right handed. Southpaws were considered to be witches. Certain colours represented your station in life. Only royalty were allowed to wear purple.

From Shakespeare's birthplace I walked to the Nash house and the new place. The New place is the house Will brought for Anne and the kids when he established himself as a successful playwright. I was very excited to see where the man lived. Imagine my disappointment to find it is no longer there. The house was torn down in 1759 when the reverend who owned it at the time was too miserly to pay the poor tax on it. So he tore it down instead. All that remains is a headstone marking where the house had been and a lovely garden....actually all the houses had lovely gardens. The Nash house stands adjacent to where the new house was and this is where his Granddaughter, Elizabeth lived with her husband. It was OK

From the Nash house I made my way to the Holy Trinity church, where Will, Anne and some of their family are buried. They are buried under the alter of a chapel to the side of the church. I had a bit of a giggle as I walked into the church as they had a sign out the front which read "Holy trinity church with Shakespeare's grave inside open" I didn't really want to see Shakespeare himself, just his grave is suffice. His epitaph reads "Blessed be the man that spares these stones, cursed be he that moves my bones." As there was only so much "hallowed ground" for the rich to buried in (inside the church) It became customary to dig up the bodies and burn them after an appropriate amount of time had passed. Then the grave-site could be resold to the next devout parishioner with enough cash. Will's last couplet helped to ensure his final resting place remained his.

After the church I made my way to my B&B. I got settled, rested my feet for a while and then made my way back into town for a ghost tour. Yeah I know ghost stories are a bunch of poppy cock but its a different slant on the usual historical tours. Our guide called himself Cornelius, Alexander Mortimer, and claimed to be from a long line of Stratford funeral directors. He was wearing a long cloak and top hat, looking every bit the dramatic part. It was a bit hokey, but still very entertaining. Stories of the little girl "Lucy" and her cat who haunt the mecure hotel and pubs along Chapel Street. One family who was so haunted by a poltergeist, the father attacked his elderly neighbor, believing her to be a witch. And Charlotte Crompton, a little girl who died of the plague. One week later her mother passed from the same illness, they opened up little Charlottes tomb to find her sitting in an upright position, her fingers bloody from where she had tried to move the tombstone and bite marks on her arms where in an effort of self preservation she had begun to eat herself. I think that last bit is a bit of a stretch however, the idea of being buried alive is not a new one. People who feared being buried alive were once buried with a sting attached to a bell. If they woke up in a coffin, they pulled the string and the bell would ring. Naturally the bell was not in the grave with them, it hung off the headstone or marker. This way if anyone heard the "dead ringers" they knew they had better grab a shovel and be quick about it. Hence the person could be saved by the bell.

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Comments

[Karen]

Love the dead ringer and saved by the bell info