Then silence fell _again_.
For sixty years.

Then inquiries into Shakespeare's Stratford life began to be made, of Stratfordians.

Of Stratfordians who had known Shakespeare or had seen him?
No.

Then of Stratfordians who had seen people who had known or seen people who had seen Shakespeare?
No.

Apparently the inquiries were only made of Stratfordians who were not Stratfordians of Shakespeare's day, but later comers; and what they had learned had come to them from persons who had not seen Shakespeare; and what they had learned was not claimed as _fact_, but only as legend--dim and fading and indefinite legend; legend of the calf-slaughtering rank, and not worth remembering either as history or fiction.
Has it ever happened before--or since--that a celebrated person who had spent exactly half of a fairly long life in the village where he was born and reared, was able to slip out of this world and leave that village voiceless and gossipless behind him--utterly voiceless, utterly gossipless?
And permanently so?
I don't believe it has happened in any case except Shakespeare's.