The Events of Wednesday, May 4, 2011

                With an early start this morning, we were on the road to an early departure so we could visit the last of the “Shakespeare houses”; the childhood homes of his mother and wife. We were in the car a couple of minutes before nine when Dad realized he didn’t have his camera. We searched the entire car and the entire cottage to no avail. It was lost! As we drove, we worked together to try and remember when he last used his camera and where he might have left it. We concluded that we last saw it in Hall’s Croft, the last of the Shakespeare houses we visited yesterday. Since Hall’s Croft was a ways away from our current destination, we decided to drive on to Anne Hathaway’s house, our next Shakespeare sight, and ask the receptionists there to call Hall’s Croft.

                The two ladies at the desk were very friendly and tried their best to help. They called both Hall’s Croft and Nash’s House for us, but no cameras had been turned in for a week. They recommended we go to the Police Station in Stratford-upon-Avon and file a report; an honest person might find the camera and turn it in there. We thanked them for their efforts, showed our tickets, and headed into one of the cutest of the Shakespearean houses.

                As we entered, we were greeted by a friendly staff member who told us all about Hathaway’s life. The daughter of a farmer, she lived in a nice but relatively simple home before marrying Shakespeare. The cottage had started as a simple dirt floor under a thatch roof, but later gained stone flooring (a luxury item at the time) and a second floor. Our personal tour guide let us sit down where Shakespeare probably sat while courting Anne. Then the guide talked about the dinnerware at the time. Whenever there were guests, everyone would have eaten off of pewter plates. But when the family dined alone, they used simple wooden plates, called trenches, each initialed on the back. Since they wouldn’t wash their dishes (water was unsafe), they just ate all the food and “licked it clean” after mopping up the sauce with bread. They initialed the plate so you weren’t eating your brother’s lunch remains.

                We briefly headed upstairs for a look at the sparsely decorated rooms, each with a valuable canopy bed. The Tudors invested in these beds which were passed down from generation to generation, paying anywhere from $10,000-20,000 in today’s money. We then headed back downstairs into the kitchen, where our friendly guide, now almost a personal tour guide, told us about food in Tudor times.

                In those times there were lots of meats and breads, so the bread oven was of particular interest. Once it was hot enough, you’d put in the 15 or so loaves. You’d cover the opening with a wooden slat to keep in the heat and wait half an hour. Once the bread was done, you had an oven that could be used, as it cools, to bake all sorts of goods like pies and cakes at different temperatures. Bread came with every meal. Before the trenches were in use, bread was your plate. They would cut the bread horizontally, not vertically, and serve your food on that. Your age and rank determined the quality of your bread/plate. In our family, Abby would have gotten the worst bit, the burnt crust on the bottom. Then Lindsey would have gotten the next slice up, then me (Ben), then Caitlin and Mom. And Dad, the highest ranking member of our family, would “get the upper crust” since he’s a “cut above the rest”. More interesting sayings for you.

                Next came the landscaped gardens of the estate. We had heard about a maze in the back, so went to try that out. Our walk took us through the sculpture garden to the entrance of the hedge maze. Honestly, it sounded better than it really was. It wasn’t a maze, per say, but a path through hedges. However, the designers did manage to lead you all around every square foot of maze. There were probably a good quarter mile of pathways, and you had to follow every bit to get out!

                Once we escaped the seemingly endless maze, we hopped back into Destiny and rode to the police station in Stratford-upon-Avon. Dad headed in, filled out the paperwork, and left our phone number in case the camera is found. Hoping it would turn up, we headed out to the Mary Arden Farm.

                If the Anne Hathaway house is the quaintest property, this is definitely the most extensive. The complex was huge with fields, houses, and functional farm structures. The first thing we noticed was a group of second or third-graders on their “Tudor Day” field trip. Dressed in period garb, they got a chance to learn about farm life. Although it wasn’t crowd-free and personal like Anne Hathaway’s, the school group’s special trip created special events throughout our visit. We first headed through the animal pens to the farm house, where we saw a group of cooks at work. One was mixing up some bread with very simple ingredients: water, yeast (made from the foam of ale), and flour. Another lady was cooking up stew on the fire while her coworker made the fish salad. We took a quick peek at the empty upper floor before heading over to Mary Arden’s house.

                This house, or part of it, once housed Shakespeare’s mother, Mary Arden. There is a confusing recent history about the building. In 2000, serious research began on the house to determine if Mary Arden really lived there. They have uncovered evidence showing that, while one part of the house existed during Arden’s time, the other half was built during her life. But then there was the big question: which half was which? Until recently, they thought they had it right, but they found they had it backwards. They think that they have it right now and know which half is original. Let’s hope they’re right.

                As we entered the house, we found a game called Merellis. You and your opponent each have five coins. You take turns putting down coins. Once all coins are down, you slide the coins along the board’s lines. Whoever gets three coins in a row first wins. Sounds easy? You have to try it. As we were playing, a friendly staff member came down. Referring to himself as the “daff chap with a cap”, he shared with us all we wanted to know about the building and the farm. Some interesting facts were about the height and speech of the Tudors.

                Since all the ceilings are really low and the beds appear short, we naturally assume that the men in the 1500s weren’t as tall as men today. But they were just as tall, if not taller, then today’s average Brit. The ceilings are lower because the floor, which used to be dirt, is now covered in stone. Put a good six inches of stone on the floor and your ceilings have shrunk. And then their beds…they look like they were made for people just over four feet in height. Back then, however, you didn't sleep lying down. You slept sitting up, with your back and head against a pillow. Why? If the Grim Reaper were to pass your window during the night and catch you sleeping lying down, he would steal your soul. So, if you appeared to be sitting up and keeping watch for the devil at work, you would be left alive until morning.

                Next, the Daff Chap With a Cap demonstrated the typical Shakespearean voice, almost singing “TO BE, OR NOT TO BE!” with an exaggerated English accent. But at that time, the Tudorian accent was more American than “British”. So our modern American English is actually closer to the way Shakespeare would have spoken than the speech of his homeland!

                When he started his spiel again to new visitors, we left the large room and toured the house. We got to see an apothecary’s workshop, the extremely low doors of the upper floor, and a fun kid’s room. Each of us tried our hand at writing the Shakespearean way and creating Shakespearean insults. They had three baskets of cards. You picked up one word or phrase from each basket, plugged it into the formula of Thou + insulting adjective + insulting adjective + insulting noun, and say it to your sibling. There were some funny ones, like “Thou churlish, urchin-snouted rampallion!”

                We heard that the midday meal was going to begin in the farmhouse soon, so we headed over to watch. The staff, who was all acting as maids and farm hands, sat down at the table after grace. They explained the proper hierarchy of seating, where guests or family members would sit above the salt and the servants would sit below. Since their left hand was their communal hand, they would only eat with their right hand. To make cleaning the right hand easier since they ate with their fingers, they wore their napkins over their left shoulders. Then they served up the stew and began. With all this food, we were getting hungry, so Dad fetched our picnic lunch from the car and joined us in the picnic area.

                After the quick meal, we headed back through the house, saw a couple more buildings, and then joined the school group to watch the butter making. The lady started with “double cream” (we aren’t exactly sure what this is) and whipped it by hand. With time, it turns into a mixture looking like scrambled eggs. Then she collects all the solid pieces, bunches them together, and squeezes out all the extra buttermilk. The butter is cleaned off and ready for eating. The group of kids moved on, and two reenactors came over to talk with us. They told us about what the kids experienced during their “Tudor Day” and more about the American-ness of the Shakespearean accent. One of the reenactors, who was from Colorado, told us how much easier it was for her to adapt to the Tudorian accent than the typical British accent.

                With our brains full of Shakespeare, we exited the farm and drove to Blenheim palace. We had a bit of trouble finding it, but eventually found the entrance gate and entered the park. The grounds, perfectly landscaped, are huge. Just huge. We found the car park and headed over to the palace for our tour. We entered through a brief exhibit about Winston Churchill’s life in the palace, which is where he was born and where he proposed to Clementine Hozier. Then we met Charles, our guide, who told us about the history of the mansion as we went from room to room.

                This palace, which still houses today’s Duke of Marlborough, was originally commissioned by Queen Anne in 1704. The First Duke, a military genius, beat Louis XIV’s army in Bavaria. When the queen heard of the victory, she commissioned a palace for the Duke. Normally, the residence would be known as a ‘house’, but since it was ordered by the Queen, it gets the name ‘palace’. The first Duke was succeeded by his daughter, who married into the Spencer Family. Although the family carried the name Spencer for several generations, Parliament allowed a change in the family name to Spencer-Churchill, recognizing the first Duke’s family line.

                We toured the finely decorated rooms, taking careful notice of the paintings, the subjects, their relations to the dukes, and the style of decoration. Of special interest were the ten famous tapestries from Brussels. Each commemorates a victory in the first Duke’s flawless military career. They are detailed, with over 250 stitches per square inch, big, covering entire walls, and very artistic. Each took 20 weavers working full time for nine years to complete. If one person were to weave the entire thing (I’d pity them!), it would take 180 years. Since the weavers knew where the tapestry would cover a corner, they compensated for the curve without changing perspective. These tapestries are incredible.

                Having recently visited Versailles, this palace pales in comparison of size and splendor. In my opinion, this made it feel more homey—more like I could actually live in it. As our tour moved on, we heard about Consuelo Vanderbilt, the Ninth Duchess of Marlborough. You may remember the name from our blogs back in Newport. She was forced by her manipulative mother, Alva Vanderbilt, to marry the Ninth Duke. Simply put, Consuelo wasn’t happy. During her brief interlude as Duchess, she raised two boys, whom she nicknamed “the Heir” and “the Spare”. What kid wants a name like that? The “Spare” passed away while still young. His brother, “the Heir”, was the father of the current Duke of Marlborough.

                Though Consuelo didn’t stay long, she did a bit of redecoration work. Since Louis XIV was popular at that time, she installed a portrait and bust in the State Rooms. Ironically, she was decorating the house with the images of the very man whose defeat prompted the building of the palace! To make matters worse, she had Louis’ bust across the room from the bust of the first Duke…but since they are enemies, they don’t look at each other.

                We ended in the library, a huge room full of books. Since the last Duke and Duchess liked music, they installed a piano and an organ. The organ was fabulous—massive, well-designed, and ornate. I’d want to hear it played! We exited the State Rooms and walked all the way around the palace to re-enter. This time, we headed into “The Untold Story”, an exhibit about the hidden history of the palace. Guided by one of the first Duke’s maids, we moved from room to room, watching little stories unfold on movie screens and theater sets. It was very well done.

                Next came the gardens. We walked around the water garden, then down to the Temple of Diana, where Winston Churchill proposed. Trying to return to the van, we hit a dead end at the Italian Gardens. While nice with their flawlessly shaped hedges, they weren’t where we wanted to end up. So we headed back across the huge lawn, through the café, and back to the car. We hurriedly drove over to the Pleasure gardens and made it two minutes before the entrance closed. We didn’t have much time, so we zipped through the hedge maze. According to the sign at the entrance, it is the second-largest hedge maze in the world and should take us 25 minutes to complete. Since we stuck together and figured out the design, we completed it in eight minutes. That left plenty of time to play some giant chess or challenge ourselves on the other difficult mazes in the park.

                Upon exiting the park, we set the GPS’s to take us home. Soon the phone rang—it was the police. A camera was turned in that matched the description Dad gave them. Hooray! Filled with joy, we were willing for a slight change of plans. Instead of going straight home, we headed to the Stratford-upon-Avon police station. Dad went in and returned, camera in hand. He had left it on the parking lot pay station, and an honest parking attendant turned it in. As we drove on home, we were perplexed—how didn’t we notice that we left it there? But, as Shakespeare said, all’s well that ends well. Back home, we had some Cornish pasties (beef and potato-filled pastries) and quiches for dinner before heading to bed.