July 4--Stratford-upon-Avon

What an incredible and perfect day. Photos will have to come later, of course, because we took so many that it will take about a month to get them uploaded, and that doesn't even account for the fact that we weren't allowed to take photos inside the historic buildings.

Despite being only 104 miles from London, Stratford is a full day outing. There is apparently no way short of personal jet pack to get there from London in less than two hours. We got up at 7 a.m., returned home at 11 p.m., and hardly had long enough to enjoy it.

Stratford is the holy mecca of the Shakespearean; the house where he was born still stands, the house where his wife grew up is about a mile outside of town, the homes of his daughter and grand-daughter are open to the public. Even his mother's girlhood home is open, although it is in another town entirely. The house where Shakespeare died was maliciously demolished by its (nutter) owner toward the end of the 18th century, but the land where it stood is owned by the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust, and you can walk the grounds and gardens that remain.

Shakespeare's grave is in the church at Stratford, along with that of his wife, daughter and grand-daughter. You probably knew all that. What you cannot experience is just how lovely it is on a glorious summer's day.

Shakespeare's birthplace is quite a large home, easily twice the size of our house in St. Paul, plus a third floor. At one end his father, John Shakespeare, kept his glove shop--a trade that depends on people being sufficiently wealthy and leisured to buy such impractical items. To get from his home to Anne Hathaway's farm requires a good half-hour walk, which means that he must have REALLY INTENDED to get there. Sure, she was 7 or 8 years his senior, and they got married rather hastily after she turned up pregnant, but given the effort it would have taken him to go court her (and the relative prosperity of her family at the time), it is hard to imagine that their marriage was anything other than a true one.

After their marriage, they went to live with his parents in the birthplace home for 15 years, until crop failure and resulting recession ruined John Shakespeare's business. His father deep in debt, himself married with three children to support, William Shakespeare headed for London.

He apparently went to London with a group of actors, which is when he was introduced to theater. He reached London in about 1588, and by 1598 was a Very Wealthy Man. Not because of his acting--he was apparently only mediocre--and not because of his writing either. Rather, because he realized that the people who made money in the theater were the owners. Since actors were required to own a percentage of the theaters in which they worked, as actors retired from the stage, WS bought their ownership percentages and was able to retire back to Stratford after 20 years.

Back at home, he paid off all his father's debts, bought a coat of arms, bought the biggest and most expensive house in the city, built bridges, bought farmland, bought rights to the tithes of a church. . .in short, because a Very Big Wig. His daughter Susannah married a wealthy man, and her daughter Elizabeth married even more money.

Even in 1588, Stratford was far from being Hicksville. The buildings from that era are perfectly grand and the churches are impressive. "The Man from Stratford" could very easily have written the plays and poems that bear his name. There is no need to look for someone else to be the "real Shakespeare." After all, after 20 years in London, he retired to Stratford, rather than remaining in the city--how intellectually impoverished could it have been if he chose to spend the last years of his life there?

But the best part? The very best part of being in Stratford today?

Was walking into the former kitchen garden of Shakespeare's last home, to have my sweet husband look at me as if we were newlyweds. There can not be anything more romantic than having my handsome man whisper "I love you" while standing in Shakespeare's garden.