of our amiable customs officials. Nevertheless,
the visit was full of interest. Our guide took us through the great
plant from the very beginning, showing us the raw materials--clay, chalk
and bones--which are ground to a fine powder, mixed to a paste, and
deftly turned into a thousand shapes by the skilled potter. We were
shown how the bowl or vase was burned, shrinking to nearly half its size
in the process. We followed the various steps of manufacture until the
finished ware, hand-painted, and burned many times to bring out the
colors, was ready for shipment. An extensive museum connected with the
works is filled with rare specimens to delight the soul of the admirer
of the keramic art. There were samples of the notable sets of tableware
manufactured for nearly every one of the crowned heads of Europe during
the last century, gorgeous vases of fabulous value, and rare and curious
pieces without number.
When we left the porcelain works it was too late to get into the
cathedral, and when we were ready to start in the morning it was too
early. So we contented ourselves with driving the car around the noble
pile and viewing the exterior from every angle. We took the word of
honest Baedeker that the interior is one of the most elaborate and
artistic in England but largely the result of modern restoration. The
cathedral contains the tomb of King John, who requested that he be
buried here, though his life was certainly not such as to merit the
distinction. Here, too, is buried the elder brother of King Henry VIII,
Prince Arthur, who died at Ludlow Castle in 1502; and had he lived to be
king in place of the strenuous Henry, who can say what changes might
have been recorded in English history? All these we missed; nor did we
satisfy ourselves personally of the correctness of the claim that the
original entry of the marriage contract of William Shakespeare and Anne
Hathaway is on file in the diocese office near the gateway of the
cathedral. Along with the other notable places of the town mentioned in
the guide-book as worthy of a visit is the great factory where the fiery
Worcestershire sauce is concocted, but this did not appeal to our
imagination as did the porcelain works. Our early start and the fine,
nearly level road brought us to Stratford-upon-Avon well before noon.
Here we did little more than re-visit the shrines of Shakespeare--the
church, the birthplace, the grammar school--all familiar to the
English-speaking wor
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