The Complete Works of
R. D. BLACKMORE
(1825-1900)
Contents
Delphi Classics 2018
Version 1
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The Complete Works of
R. D. BLACKMORE
By Delphi Classics, 2018
COPYRIGHT
Complete Works of R. D. Blackmore
First published in the United Kingdom in 2018 by Delphi Classics.
Delphi Classics, 2018.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form other than that in which it is published.
ISBN: 978 1 78656 102 2
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The Novels
R. D. Blackmore was born at the Old Rectory in Longworth, then part of Berkshire, now Oxfordshire.
Blackmore spent part of his childhood in the village of Culmstock, Devon.
Clara Vaughan
A Novel
Clara Vaughan was first published in 1864 by Macmillan & Co in London. Blackmore had composed a draft of the novel more than a decade earlier, but he had not attempted to have it published at that time. He had written and published collections of poetry during his early years as a schoolmaster in Twickenham. The author was born in the village of Longworth, which is now part of Oxfordshire, to a Reverend father and a mother that died only a few months after his birth. He spent much of his childhood in Devon, the county which would feature so prominently in his novels. Clara Vaughan had been published anonymously and Blackmore was frustrated and perturbed when critics suggested that his book owed a debt to Mary Elizabeth Braddons work. He was offended by the comparison to Braddons style and he insisted that his novel had been written before she became popular and that she was the last author he would ever wish to emulate.
Clara Vaughan centres on the murder of the father of the titular character, when she is still a child. It remains an unsolved crime and the young woman, who is depicted as headstrong and obstinate, becomes determined to find her fathers killer. This detective aspect of the novel nestles alongside family secrets and reconciliations, untrustworthy foreign characters and a romance subplot offering the usual obstacles for the prospective couple. It is not considered to be one of the authors finest works, earning him neither fame nor recognition upon its publication.
The first editions title page
CONTENTS
Novelist Mary Elizabeth Braddon (1835-1915)
BOOK I.
CHAPTER I.
I DO NOT mean to describe myself. Already I feel that the personal pronoun will appear too often in these pages. Knowing the faults of my character almost as well as my best friends know them, I shall attempt to hide them no more than would those beloved ones. Enough of this: the story I have to tell is strange, and short as my own its preamble.
The day when I was ten years old began my serious life. It was the 30th of December, 1842; and proud was the kiss my loving father gave me for spelling, writing, and pronouncing the date in English, French, and Italian. No very wonderful feat, it is true, for a clever child well-taught; but I was by no means a clever child; and no one except my father could teach me a single letter. When, after several years of wedlock, my parents found new joy in me, their bliss was soon overhung with care. They feared, but durst not own the fear, lest the wilful, passionate, loving creature, on whom their hearts were wholly set, should be torn from their love to a distance greater than the void of death; in a word, should prove insane. At length they could no longer hide this terror from each other. One look told it all; and I vaguely remember my hazy wonder at the scene that followed. Like a thief, I came from the corner behind the curtain-loops, and trembled at my fathers knee, for him to say something to me. Then frightened at his silence a thing unknown to me I pulled his hands from before his eyes, and found hot tears upon them. I coaxed him then, and petted him, and felt his sorrows through me; then made believe to scold him for being so naughty as to cry. But I could not get his trouble from him, and he seemed to watch me through his kisses.
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