The record-union., 1891-10-10

comprehensive Narrative of Dreams /
think it viii be found that one of the
most frequently recurring experiences OF
dreamers is that they seem to lack the
power of close and genial companionship
with the voiceless personages whom they
meet in sleep. No matter how close may
be the bonds with the same personages in
waking hours. No matter how vivid the
apparent reality ofact and doing in dream
land. There is ever filmy vail of unre-
cOgnition even where recognition seems
most complete; and at waking there is
always the saddening longing to have
seen clearer, to have got closer, and to
have more firmly trod or clasped the out
stretched hand.
Something akin to this tender feeling
OF unrest and vague consciousness of un-
tulfillment. possesses you in this sweet old
town Of fStratford-on-Avon. From first to
last the entire experience is tlnged with
the nature and wrought in the very tissue
OF dreams. 1t has been your dream to
sometime know this greatest of all liter
ary shrlnes While you are within its
strange influence you wander and dream
as in the actual region of dreams among
dream-bOrn folk who are themselves
dreaming within the dream. After you
turn away all that you can possibly re-
call seems to have had its origin in some
tar-off age of dreams.
If you come to this shrine by railway
and its interminable changes, giving you
glimpSes of all sorts of midland towns,
from ancient Warwick with its stately
battlements, to bennington with its mod
ern glitter you have reached a pleasing
state of confusion not remote from the
vagaries of dreams. If you have come to
the place on the box of one of those IA
NOUS coaches which spin to various
points of interest throughout the shire,
you VIII have seen in few hours
countless succession of the most beautiful
and dreamtul countryside pictures in
England. And if you should come on
foot for the eleven miles as | did, along
the hard, white highway from Warwick,
underneath an almost unbroken arch
way OF elms, through the crisp yet
droWsy atmosphere Of an English mid
land autumnal morning, there is still
surrounding you the glamor of bewitch-
ing unreallty you cannot and would not
oispel.
1ramping over this witching way what
flood of historic memories sweep in
with the breath of the rosy morning!
Here upon this noble eminence, with his
toric Clopton House to the right and
Hampton Lucy to the left, beneath the
arching elms, is caught the first glimpse
OF the Valley of the Avon. An hundred
lesser gentle, Verdure-clad eminenceS rise
and fail as if with the throbbing of ma
ture's heart in its fair, far sweep. From
away III the northeast winds a thread Of
silver. 1t broadens as it disappears and
reappears in Its course towards the Sew
ern, and is finally lost completely, where,
above a mass of elms and lines and red
uled roofs, rises slender apire. The
silvery thread is the Avon. The mass of
eims and lines and red-tiled roofs is
Stratford. The slender spire of its Holy
Trinity Church marks the tomb and
shrine of the worlds immortal bard.
Lettering here the old days, places and
stirring scenes fit quickly into the wide
horizon rim. The three spires of ancient
Coventry can almost be seen, not far
away, to the north: Coventry with its leg
ends of pilgrimages and the deed of fair
Godiva, which brought freedom from the
oppression of her fierce, grim lord to the
people of her well-beloved town. The
grand ruin of kenilworth, with its mem
OrieS of jouStS, tournaments and Tevelries
Of Elizabeth and her tavorites are nearer
still. Gray old Warwick. with its walls
still as mighty as in the furious times OF
the third Henry, is just behind you to the
north. over to the west Evesham and
IewkSbury recall grewSome tale. Only
fifteen miles to the north just at the edge
OF OXtordshire, the first great battle be-
tween the Kings and Parliamentaryforce
was lOu8ub III Ine SGNenlGCIIn century
at Edge Hill. Not far away, in North
amptOnshire. is Fotheringay, notably
connected with the lives and fates Of
Princes, and famous and infamous as
the place Of execution OF Mary Queen of
Scots.
Below Edge Hill is Banbury. of cher
lShed nurSery-Thyme memory, to whose
toothsome cheese Shakespeare Hkened
talstaff, for his rich and unctious habit
IT Is but few miles away, just over there
IN northampton, beyond the ivy-hid
Rugby of TON Browns School Days.
that the Avon Springs from the hills
about NaSeby, where Cromwell and Fair
fax drove the hapless Charles from his
throne and kingdom. SiXty-four great
seats with their castles or halls, from
Allesley Park to WroXalI House, besides
many tine cathedrals and superb monas-
tie and castle ruins, cluster close within
the shire. The chimneys and minareted
Jurrets of one rise above primeval trees
down there to the east in the dreamful
Avon Valley. They mark old Charlie
cote, scene of certain rhyming poach-
er's escapade. And this same Charlecote
once stood in the greatest of all British
forests, the fored of Arden, whose name
and fame can never grow old, so long as
the fair and tender kosalind and all the
other winsome brood in "As You Like
lt' shall repeat their wise and wondrous
human truths to those who own and love
the English thought and tongue.
As you descend into the old town ev-
erything is strangely still. On the way
You see q few blackbl hopping Sagely
among the stubble, close to the sheltering
hedge. Here and there a wary pheasant
that has escaped the annual autumnal
slaughter whIsks into the road, trots
along its grassy border Tor little, and
then as suddenly and silently disappears.
The kline are sleepily chewing their cudS
hwy
stocks of late-gathered grain are hud-
died in the little fields. The smoke as
cends family from the chimneys OF cot
tage and hall. They are late risers these
English folk, and the low sun is far up in
Its slender are before dweilerS give Sirn
of being astir. Even the sable rocks that
haunt the dead trees and high, wide
chimneys of ancient demesnes, rise slug
gishly from their hiding, wheel lazily
about 1t, and settle down quietly again,
not yet ready 10 unloose their saucy,
chatterng tongue.
You know, rs everybody knows when
you have come to the little closely
nedgcd tiled houses where the open high
way has merged into a long, picturesque,
humble street, that were you to remain
in Stratford for a months time there
could be only just the half dozen places
Immediately identified with Shakespeare
TO ViSit--the house where he was born,
the vacant site of the house where he
lived at New Place, the church where he
}s buried, Ann Hathaway's cottage, and
the memorial fountain and theater. And
while you could see these in an hours
time the impulse, now that they are so
near your ken, is TO avoid them; to wan
der away through the town for a little at
ITst, and, shaking off the dreamful cap
tlylty OF it all, to try and come back 10
those objects and places one by one. with
increased attitude and power OF recogni-
ton and companionship.