Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1836-08-26

see beyond, with the windy swung up, sir"
low oId.iashioned house, with o win
dow suspended on hinge, newly white
washed and scrubbed, stood q little up the
street. A sign over the door informed Us
IN inflated paragraph, that the immortal
Will Shakespeare was born under this roof
and that an old woman within would show
il TO US for a consideration. It had been
used until very lately, had been told, for
a butchers shop.
A "garru'ous old lady" met US at the bot =.
tom Of the narrow stair leading to the Sc
cond floor, and began-not to say anything
OF Shakspe are--but to show US the names
of Byron. Moore, Rogers, etc., written a .
mong thousands of others on The wall!-
She had worn out Shakespeare! She had
told that story Till she was tired of it! or
what perhaps is more probable) most peo
pie who go there fall to readiag the names
OF the vlslters so indust7lously, that she
has grown to think some of Shakespeare
pilgri.. greater than Shakespeare.
" Was this Old oaken chest here in the
days of Shakespeare, madam" | asked.
YES, sir" and here's the name of Byron
- here with a capital B. Here's curiosity
sir"
"And this small wooden boxi"
made OF Sbakspeares mulberry, sir. |
had SIGH time about that box, sir. Two
young gemmen we're here the other dav-
just run up while the coach was changing
horses to see the house. As soon as they
were gone misses the box. OFF scuds nv
son to the Red Lion, and there they sat on
the top looking as innocent as may he
stop the COACH" says nv son. tWhat
do you want" says the driver. "My
mothers mulberry box - Sbakspeare's
mulberry box !-One Of them ere young
mems got it in his pocket" And true
enough, sir, one on 'em had the imperence
to take it out of his pocket and filings it into
my sons face; and you know the coach
never stops mint for dolhing, sir, or he d.
a smar,ed for it,"
Spirit of Shakespeare dost thou no,
walk alone in this humble chamber! Must
ones inmost soul be fretted aud frigh'ed
attcays from its devotion BY an sbominable
old woman Why should not such lucra-
tive occupations be given in charity to the
deafan dumb The pointing Of a finger
were enough in such spots Of earth!
sat down in despair to Look over the
book oil visiters, trusting that she would
tire of my inauenlion. As it was of no
use to point names to those who would not
look, however, she commenced long sto-
~ of an American, who had lately taken
the within TO sleep in Shakspeare's birth
chamber. She mad shaken him down q bed
on the floor. and he passed the night there
1t seemed to bother her why two thirds
Of her visiters should be Americans-a cir.
cums:anco that was abundanty proved by
the bJoks
It was only when | was in the street
that began to realize that had seen one
of the most glorious alters OF memory =
that deafness Will Shakespeare, the NOR.
tai who was, perhaps. mot 10 speak pro-
fanely) next to his Maker, IN divine facult
ofcrealion, tirs, saw the light lhro' the low
lattice on which we turned back 10 look
The single window Of the room in which
Scott died at Abbottsford, and this in The
birth chamber OF Shakespeare, have seemed
to me almost marked with the touch of the
fire of these great souls for | think we
have an instinct which tells us on the spo
where mighty spirits have come or gone
that they came and went with the light o
heaven.
We walked down the street to see TIT
house where Shakespeare lived on his re
turn to Stafford. 1t stands at the corne
of lane not far from The church where h
was buried, and is newisl, IN Shakspear
ian looking place no doubt if it be lndee
the same house, most profanely and consld
eraby altered. The present proprietor O
occupant of the house or site, took upo
himself some time since the odium of cut
ting down the famous mulberry tree plant
ed by the poets ha nd in the garden.
forgot to mention in The beginning {
these notes, that two or three miles befnr
coming to STAFFORD, we passed throug
, Sho,tery where Anne Hathaway lived. .
nephew Of the excellent baronet who's
guests we were, occupies the house.
looked up and down the green lanes abor
it, and glanced my eye round upon the hill
over which the sun has continued 10 ST
d and the moon to ride in her love inspirin
/ beauty ever since. There were doubtle,
G outlines in the landscape which, had bee
y followed by the eye of Shakespeare, whe
T. GINNING trembling lover, to Shouery-
e doubtless. TENTS in The sky, smoke-wreali
q from the old homes,eads on the hill. side
d which are llttle altered now. How DARN!
c " the imagination pucks back the past
5 suCn placto iioW uOluly we ush VI ldH'
L and probability the thousand questions "
r would put, if we might, to the magic miro
a Of Agrippa ! Did that great mortal lo'
timidly. like ourselves, Was The passion
- ate outpouring of his heart simple, al
!. suited to the humble condition Of Anr
Hathaway, or was it the first fiery coinae
of Romeo and Othello Did she know III
n immortal honor and light poured upon W.
), man by the love of genius Did she kno
d how this common and ohenest terreslr Ri
!, passion becomes fused in the poets boso
i, with celestial fire, and in its wondrous ell
n walton and purity. ascends lambenlly al
d unsteady to the very stars Did she CT
e it with him, Was she woman to him,
: commoner mortals fad oman-capriclou
!. tender. cruel, intoxicating, cold-eve
5 thing by changes impossible to calculate
e foresee3 Did he walk home to Straffor
ID sometimes, despairing in perfect sickhear
- cdnp ss of her nffaci ION and Was hp 70. IN