To be, or not to be: that is the question.

Last week Kaylyn, Brittany, and I visited the hometown of the great William Shakespeare.  As usual, we left before the crack of dawn, and we arrived in Stratford-Upon-Avon just as the town was waking up.  This train trip taught us something that we hadn't known before: not every train stop occurs at a train station.  Unlike our previous train rides to York and London, this was not a direct trip.  We had to make two stops before reaching our destination.  The first stop occurred before the sun rose in the freezing cold.  We were surprised to see that the platform on which we were dropped off was not in a station.  There was literally nothing but the concrete platform that we were standing on.  Thankfully, the next train came quickly, and our second stop did occur inside a station.

When we arrived, we went straight to Holy Trinity Church to see the place where Shakespeare was baptized and buried.  It cost a whopping 50 pence (about 84 cents) to get in, and we had the church almost entirely to ourselves.  There were maybe seven or eight people in the entire church, including the woman working in the gift shop and the man accepting the 50 pence fee.  Like Westminster Abbey and York Minster, Holy Trinity is designed in the shape of a cross.  It seems that most old churches were.  Kaylyn, Brittany, and I went first to the altar to look at the graves of William Shakespeare, his wife Anne Hathaway, his daughter Susannah, his granddaughter's husband Thomas Nash, and Susannah's husband John Hall.  There is a gold bannister preventing spectators from stepping onto the altar under which Shakespeare and his family are buried.

William Shakespeare's grave is in the center, with Anne Hathaway's grave on the left and Thomas Nash's grave on the right.

GOOD FREND FOR iESVS SAKE FORBEARE, TO DIGG THE DVST ENCLOASED HEARE.  BLESE BE Y MAN Y SPARES TES STONES, AND CVRST BE HE Y MOVES MY BONES."

This sculpture of Shakespeare was made not long after his death.  It was sculpted while Anne Hathaway was still alive, and therefore it is supposed to be a very realistic likeness of Shakespeare.

You can't tell from the second photo, but Shakespeare's grave was designed to be facing the altar.  While the sign is readable to spectators standing at the foot of the altar, the engraving itself would appear upside down.  How then, you ask, could I possibly have taken the second photo so that the engraving is right-side up?  While we were looking at the altar, the older gentleman that accepted our 50 pence fee walked up behind us, opened the railing separating us from the altar, and said, "After the Reformation, the pre-Reformation depictions of Jesus were destroyed.  But, one stone depiction of Jesus's face was somehow missed.  Come up and have a look."  He led us right onto the altar!  He showed us the stone depiction of Jesus, which sits next to what would be another identical depiction, except the face has been smashed off.  The gentleman then led us a few steps over to Shakespeare's grave and said, "Do you have cameras?  If so, you might want to get a picture of the grave from this angle."  I couldn't believe it!  I imagine that it is not every day that people are allowed to walk on the altar under which Shakespeare is buried!  I am so grateful to that gentleman for giving us that opportunity!

After I got over the surprise of our good fortune, we walked over to see the font in which Shakespeare was baptized.  As we were walking out, our friend reappeared to show us another interesting sight!  The man who led us onto the altar stopped us where the two halls of the church intersect to point out a stained glass window.  He explained that this stained glass was a gift from the United States to Shakespeare's Church.

The font in which Shakespeare was baptized

"A.M.D.G. The Gift of America to Shakespeare's Church"

Holy Trinity Church

From Holy Trinity, Kaylyn, Brittany, and I walked to Shakespeare's Birthplace.  Apparently there is not 100% certainty that this is where Shakespeare was born, but because the house was owned by his family, it is probable.  Also, the name of this house is officially "Shakespeare's Birthplace," so I'm guessing the chance is pretty good that he was born here.

Shakespeare's Birthplace

This is Shakespeare's parents' room, the place where Shakespeare was most likely born and where he most likely spent the first few years of his life.

"This window was formerly in the birthroom of Shakespeare's Birthplace.  It became traditional for pilgrims to etch their names into the glass as a symbol of their visit.  The earliest recorded date on the window is 1806."  The walls of Shakespeare's Birthplace were also signed by pilgrims, but they have since been repainted.  Charles Dickens is reportedly among those who left their autographs on the window and walls at Shakespeare's Birthplace.

"Living statue" street performers are all over the French Quarter in my hometown of New Orleans, but I wasn't expecting to see one in Stratford-Upon-Avon!

After Shakespeare's Birthplace we hightailed it back to the train station and took a short ride over to Warwick Castle.  Warwick had a number of exhibits devoted to its Medieval days, but I also really enjoyed the Downton Abbey-reminiscent exhibit devoted to the last few years of the 19th century at Warwick Castle.

Kaylyn and I in front of Warwick Castle

  

 

With an arrow that close to the center, I think maybe I should take up archery!

As you can see, I stopped to give archery a try before heading into the Castle.  Note to self: when it is so cold that you fingers feel frozen, archery is painful.  But I'm still glad I did it!  Then, we headed into the Castle (where it was warm, thank goodness!) to see the "Royal Weekend Party" exhibit.

Playing cards with the men

I love hanging out with my friends at my house, but I can't pretend that I don't sometimes wish we had a 19th century drawing room to hang out in!

Making important decisions with the gentlemen while the ladies sit in their drawing room

For some unknown reason, this bear was guarding what appeared to be a donation box.  I thought my bag of souvenirs from Shakespeare's Birthplace deserved equal protection.

If only I had a lady's maid to do my hair, then my Downton Abbey fantasy would be complete.

The Countess of Warwick with the lady's maid that I wish I had

Brittany with the Countess

Now to the more medieval areas of the castle.  These depressions in the ceiling of this hallway are called "murder holes."  If enemies somehow managed to get through the first portcullis (gate) and into the hallway, men in the room above would pour "horrible, dangerous liquids" onto the enemies.  I imagine that the device in the hole to the far left, the device that looks a lot like a fire alarm, was not there during medieval times.

Kaylyn in front of the gaol, or jail, where prisoners were kept.

 

Big/Little love is a great thing!  Kaylyn is my Little Sister in our sorority, Zeta Tau Alpha, and when we went down the stairs into the Gaol (aka the prison), Kaylyn went first.  It was supposed to be dark to add to the creepy atmosphere.  Unfortunately, since we visited late in the afternoon, it meant that the Gaol was almost pitch black.  Cue my panicking.  Thanks to the small amount of light coming from a side room, and the flashlight on Kaylyn's cell phone, we were able to just make out the torture devices.  One of these was a man-sized birdcage hanging in front of a window.  With the light coming from the window behind it and the light from Kaylyn's cell phone, it looked like there was something, possibly a skeleton arm, protruding through the cage bars.  When I questioned what it was, Kaylyn just brushed it off.  A day or so later, when we were all sitting in our kitchen telling Katie about all that we saw in the Castle, I found out that there was actually a creepy figure in the cage.  Kaylyn figured it would freak me out, so she didn't tell me.  Gotta love my Little!

The real zinger of the trip to Warwick Castle and Stratford-Upon-Avon came on the train ride home.  Brittany was starting to fall asleep, Kaylyn and I were reading, and a few boys got on the train.  As the boys were walking to their seats a few rows behind us, they finished a conversation they must've been having before they boarded.  One of them said, condescendingly, "Oh, I'm some American college boy.  I've kept the bottles from every beer I've ever drank."  They laughed and scoffed, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kaylyn slowly turn to look at me.  "I know, " I said before she could open her mouth, "I hear them."

"Hey Brittany,"  I said a little loudly, so that the boys could hear my American accent, "do you still have the bottles from all the beers you've ever drank?"  My question woke Brittany up, so she wasn't quite sure what I was talking about.  Kaylyn whispered "Your going to have to talk louder than that."  A woman sitting a few rows away started to giggle quietly.  A few stops later, the boys got off the train.  One of them bumped into my shoulder and said, "Oh sorry."  I muttered under my breath, "I'm sure you are."  As soon as they stepped off the bus, the giggling woman said "Oh, they're just aspiring to be like you all!"  Then we all burst out laughing!  When we finally stopped, Brittany asked if the boys had made their comments because they knew we were Americans.  It was the giggling woman who answered, saying that they hadn't.  They just happened to make fun of American college students while getting on a train with American college students!  We explained to the woman that we couldn't be mad at the poor boys, because we definitely know of some American college boys who keep their beer bottles lined along their walls!  We all had another good laugh before finally trying to settle back into reading or taking a nap.  I only wish the boys had stayed on the train long enough for us to let them know that we weren't really mad at them!  But I'll never forget those poor boys, who were in the wrong place at the wrong time and gave our whole train car a good laugh!

 
"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow."