Margaret Williamson

“ One of the most interesting rooms in the whole world is that chamber on the second floor in which the great Shakespeare was born. In itself, it is not in any way remarkable; it contains but a chair or two, and an old table, which holds a bust of the Poet. But its plaster walls, low ceiling, and even its window-panes, are inscribed with the names of great people,—poets, authors, statesmen, men of all countries, occupations, and beliefs,—who have journeyed here to pay their tribute to the greatest of all poets and writers. ”

“ I can’t believe it is the twentieth century; the people in the Abbey now don’t seem real to me at all. They look so small and shadowy beside the huge statues of people of other days! Surely the people the statues represent belong here, and not we! Why, I feel so far back in history that I shouldn’t be in the least surprised to see Raleigh, or Chaucer, or Queen Elizabeth, walk into this chapel, right now! ”

“ Pitt suddenly burst into peals of laughter as she saw the pained expressions upon the faces of the two girls; then a glance at the rapt, enthusiastic attention of John, caused her to become serious again.
“Never mind, girls,” she said gravely. “Such things are now gone forever; people have advanced too far in their ideas to ever permit of more of those unjust acts and horrible punishments. I can never believe that the world isn’t growing daily better! ”

“ Not so was it with Haddon Hall! The most prosaic summer tourist could hardly fail to be moved by admiration of its delights. It is still a real home, and seems alive with memories of the fair Dorothy Vernon and her family. The old castle has scarcely changed at all since the sixteenth century, and one feels as though the great lords and ladies of Queen Elizabeth’s time had thoughtfully stepped out on the terrace, in order that we might wander through their noble old dwelling. ”

“ There is an indescribable fascination about Salisbury Cathedral, which a person must see to understand. Any one who is at all responsive to the charm of great architecture, can sit for hours under the old trees on the little common, and drink in the whole scene,—the beautiful building with its delicate shapes outlined in shadows upon the green grass.
“No doubt it is a generally accepted fact that Lincoln is the finest of the English cathedrals,” Mrs. Pitt explained after a time. “Perhaps Durham comes next in line, and Canterbury has great historical interest. ”

“ It is a grand old room with a fine timber roof, and complete with its daïs or raised platform at the end, its minstrels’ gallery over the entrance doors, its old tapestries, stags’ heads, and suits of armor, and its windows mostly filled with modern stained-glass. Out of the hall are two smaller apartments, which also contain good tapestries. From here, the visitor again descends to Anne Boleyn’s gateway.
“What a funny old clock!” exclaimed Betty, spying it, up above on the tower under which they had just passed. “It seems to be so mixed up, somehow, that I can’t tell the time by it.” ”

“ Pitt was leaning against one of the massive tables, with her eyes partly closed. “Let’s just imagine the grand feasts which have been held here,” she mused. “I can almost see the Lord and Lady, dressed in purple and scarlet, sitting with their guests at a table across this end of the room. A board stretches down the length of the hall, and here sit the inferiors and retainers. A long procession of servants is winding always around the tables, bearing great roasts, birds, pasties, and all sorts of goodies, on huge platters, high above their heads. ”

“ The lower floor of the Tudor House is a most fascinating shop, in which one may find a really astonishing number of post-cards, books, pictures, and little souvenirs relating to Shakespeare.
“Seems to me, everything, from the hotel to the cheapest post-card, has the name of Shakespeare attached to it somehow!”
“You are quite right, John!” agreed Mrs. Pitt. “The modern town has grown up and literally lives upon Shakespeare! Without him, and the immense number of visitors which his memory brings, Stratford could hardly exist at all, as there are no factories or important industries here.” ”

“ London is the largest church, in the world. The first impression a person gets is one of great vastness and bareness, for, unlike Westminster Abbey, here one does not encounter at every step famous statues, memorials, and graves. The nave is tremendous in width and in length. Chapels open from both sides, but they seem far off and shadowy. Way in the distance is the choir, the altar, and the group of chairs used at services. ”

“ When they arrived at Trafalgar Square again, they jumped off, and walked down towards the towers of the Houses of Parliament. In front of the Horse Guards they stood in admiration of the two mounted sentries, stationed there.
“Those black horses are great!” cried John. “How fine those fellows do look sitting there like statues in their scarlet uniforms, and their shiny helmets with the flying tails to them! I only wish I could be a Guard, and ride a horse like one of those!”
[Pg 22] “Would you rather be a Horse Guard, or a bus-driver, John?” asked Betty teasingly. ”

“ The English country is always beautiful in its individual way, but it is especially so on one of these showery days, when every leaf and flower looks fresher than ever with the rain-drops glistening on it. Now and then, they slowed down while passing through a busy town, where pretty ladies and children in little two-wheeled carts drove about doing the morning marketing. Most of the way, however, lay through country roads bordered by green-hedged fields in which the ever-present sheep grazed; and here and there were high brick walls over which the stately, vine-covered homes were just visible. ”

“ They all examined the dreadful instruments of torture, some of them taken from the Armada, and the ghastly headsman’s block and mask, and then they descended the winding stairs again and went into the little shadowy St. John’s Chapel, on the floor with the Banqueting-hall.
“I want you all to remember that this is called the ‘most perfect Norman chapel in England,’” began Mrs. Pitt. “Some day when you have learned more about architecture, that will mean a great deal to you. These heavy circular pillars and the horseshoe arches show the ancient Norman style. It’s a quaint place, isn’t it? ”

“ When the Cambridge men go to chapel, and at other specified times, they are required to wear their gowns and queer little flat caps, called ‘trenchers’ or ‘mortar-boards.’ At Oxford, the gates of each college are closed at nine o’clock every evening; a man may stay out later (even until twelve) , if he can give a good reason for it. If he remains out all night, though, he is immediately dismissed. How would you like that?” she laughed, seeing John’s disgusted expression. “There are men called ‘scouts,’ who look after the men’s rooms, and bring them their breakfast. ”

“ Pitt found a carriage, and they drove to Trinity Church and the Shakespeare Memorial. On the way, the driver pointed out the home of Marie Corelli, the writer. It is an attractive, square house, which presents a very gay appearance, with a box of bright flowers on every window-ledge.
Trinity Church stands close beside the picturesque Avon. The waters flow gently against the rushes, making a soft music, and the breeze just stirs the leaves of the tall trees which keep guard over the graves in the church-yard. ”

“ But John had slipped a coin into the driver’s hand, and there had been a steady stream of stories from that moment. London bus-drivers have plenty to tell, and are not at all loath to tell it—especially after the encouragement of a tip. John was delighted to hear about the time, one foggy Christmas Eve, when his friend had “sat for four hours, sir, without daring to stir, at ’Yde Park Corner.” John envied him the splendid moment when the fog had finally lifted and disclosed the great mass of traffic, which had been blinded and stalled for so long. ”

“ Pitt, Robin Hood never took money from honest men, especially when it was not their own. They led Gurth farther and farther into the depths of Sherwood. I can just imagine it was a place like this,—where the moonlight lit up these ghostly trees, and the red glow of the camp-fire showed Gurth’s frightened [Pg 213] face. He was quite safe, though, for he proved that the money was his master’s, and Robin let him go, and even showed him the way to the ‘skirts of the forest,’ as he did the Sheriff of Nottingham. ”

“ One most charming example of sixteenth century architecture is Ford’s Hospital, a home for forty aged women. The street front is unique in its construction of timbers, gables, and carvings. Inside is an oblong, paved court, overhung by the second story of the building.
“It’s like Leicester’s Hospital at Warwick, only this is really more quaint, isn’t it? The old ladies peeping out from their little rooms are dear! I’m going to make friends with them,” Betty declared, as she disappeared under one of the low doorways. ”

“ Pitt, after one look at the child, merely laughed and replied, “Don’t worry, Betty; she’s used to it. She’s probably done it all her life, and she’ll never fall. Now, I turn you all loose for two hours. Explore the place to your heart’s content, for it will be long before you see such another. Come to the New Inn (that’s it, where the sign is!) ”

“ CHAPTER NINE MORE ABOUT LONDON “Big Ben,” the great bell on the clock-tower, was just booming ten deep strokes as our party neared the Houses of Parliament. A steadily rushing stream of people, buses, hansoms, and trucks (not forgetting bicycles, which are still numerous in England) , was pouring across Westminster Bridge, and swinging around the corner into the wide street called Whitehall; but in the near vicinity of the graceful, long building, with its pinnacles and spires, in which the English laws are made, all was quiet and few people were moving about. ”

“ All this time the carriage had been rolling along, and as they neared an open space in the forest, John suddenly caught sight of something which made him turn to his friend, the driver, and exclaim: “Oh, what are they?”
Stretching away for quite a distance on either side of the road were rows and rows of tiny, peaked houses or coops. The coachman told them that here was where they breed the pheasants which are hunted. When the birds have reached a certain age, they are set free, and a gun is fired in their midst to give them a taint of the wild. ”

“ Standing there, one almost hesitates to speak above a whisper for fear of arousing something or somebody out of sleep, or of breaking the wonderful spell of the place. Pausing under those trees, and feasting one’s eyes upon the lovely, rural scene, not a sound reaches the ear except the twitter of the birds, and perhaps the faint jingle of a cow-bell. ”

“ Interest is endless in Canterbury. But as it is impossible to see it all, especially in limited time, the visitor usually seeks out the best known and most famous places; and [Pg 269] surely, after the great cathedral itself, ranks St. Martin’s Church.
A little way out of the town, and up against a sunny hillside, is this tiny “Mother Church of England.” Imbedded in the rough stone of the square, Norman tower are the huge stems of giant vines. Altogether, a more primitive, ancient appearing building cannot well be imagined. ”

“ Between the poor shops of Fleet Street, open many little passages, and these lead into tiny courts and winding alleys. The entrance to one of them is marked with the sign, “Wine Office Court.” Directly off from this narrow, dark alley stands the famous Cheshire Cheese, the only genuine old-time tavern or “coffee-house” which still exists unchanged. It is a little, low building, with quaint bow-window of square panes.
“Why, we can’t all get in there, can we?” laughed John, as Mrs. Pitt stepped inside. ”

“ It was now about noon, and they were feeling rather hungry, so at a short distance from Charlecote they selected an inviting place by the roadside, and there they unpacked the lunch which Mrs. Pitt had brought. How good it did taste! They all thoroughly enjoyed the picnic, and when a scarlet automobile went rushing past them, the ladies’ veils fluttering in the breeze, Betty merely remarked:—“An auto’s lovely, of course, but to-day I’d rather have a bicycle. It seems more appropriate, somehow.” ”

“ Their route led through a country where innumerable bright red poppies grow in the fields of grain, and where there are genuine “Devonshire lanes,” shut in by tall hedges and wild flowers. Sometimes they clattered through the narrow streets of a tiny village, while the coachman snapped his whip, and the postilion in his scarlet coat and brass buttons, sounded his bugle loudly. As they rolled by farmhouses, heads would appear curiously at the windows, while children ran out to watch that important event,—the passing of the daily coach. ”

“ Just then, Betty, who could contain herself no longer, burst out laughing.
“Why, what in the world’s the matter?” cried Barbara.
Betty could only point to a passing train. [Pg 40] “It’s only the funny little freight cars!” she finally explained, rather ashamed that she had let her feelings escape in that way. “They look so silly to us! They seem about a third the size of the ones at home. Really, these remind me of a picture in my history-book, of the first train ever run in America!” ”