THE FAMILY OF THE CLOPTONS.
To Charlotte Clopton the introduction of the stranger youth, the
relation her cousin gave of his opportune appearance, and the ready
manner in which he had rescued her, seemed like some dream.
Indeed, under circumstances such as she now for the first time beheld
the youthful poet, he was scarcely to be regarded, we opine, by a lady's
eye with impunity.
Rendered insensible, as we have seen, by her severe fall, on recovery
she found herself almost miraculously saved from a dreadful death.
Whilst he who had rescued her, appeared to have come to her assistance
"like some descended god."
"Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?" The heart of Charlotte
was from that moment hopelessly, irrecoverably, lost.
The family of the Cloptons was of ancient descent. Sir Hugh was a
widower, having no other offspring but the daughter we have already
introduced to our readers. Of suitors doubtless the fair Charlotte might
have had plenty and to spare; for, when broad lands are coupled with
exceeding beauty,
"From the four corners of the earth they come
To kiss the shrine."
Sir Hugh had, however, made election for his daughter, of one who had
been her companion from childhood, a cousin of her own, Walter Arderne.
This young man, who was now about two and twenty years of age,
absolutely doated on his affianced bride. His fortune was ample, and the
woods of Arderne could be seen from the grounds of Clopton. Added to
this he was extremely handsome, of a most amiable and generous
disposition, brave as the steel he wore, and "complete in all good grace
to grace a gentleman."
And yet withal, although Charlotte loved him as a brother, esteemed him
as a friend, and had been taught to regard him as her future husband, to
entertain any more tender feelings towards him she found impossible.
Still, Walter Arderne being thus the constant companion, the affianced
husband of Charlotte, although numerous other cavaliers saw, and seeing,
admired, their brief bow was soon made. They saw--they were smitten by
the blind bow-boy--but they felt that the prize was appropriated
worthily and withdrew.
Few men, indeed, were more worthy of a lady's eye than Walter Arderne.
Gentle, generous, and frank, as we have before described him--rich and
handsome withal--it seems scarcely possible that his fair cousin could
fail in returning the strong love he felt for her. Yet so it was, and
whether this love "chosen by another's eye" was distasteful to her, or
that she thought the near relationship any bar to a more tender feeling,
it is certain the very thought of her betrothment was disagreeable.
Still Walter had been her friend, her companion, and her champion from
childhood's hour, and under his fostering care and tuition she had
become a sort of Dian of the woods and groves. Dearly did she love the
bounding steed and the chase: the wild, the wold, the hawk, and the free
air.
Her father's wishes also were law to her, and as she found it would be a
terrible disappointment to him were she to own her dislike to a marriage
with her cousin, she had suffered the engagement to remain unchallenged.
For centuries the Cloptons had seemed a doomed race; as if some ban was
upon them they had been strangely unlucky by flood and field. Gentle by
birth, noble in spirit, and in the enjoyment of all the world could
give, they seemed doomed to be unfortunate. There was even a melancholy
about the old hall itself consequent upon the mishaps and disasters that
appeared the hereditary portion of the family. The sons were brave,
their banner ever in the van, but they fell early in the fight. The
daughters were chaste as they were beautiful, but an early grave had
almost always closed over them. Nay, the villagers called the old
manor-house the house of mourning, so invariably had most of its
numerous occupants been swept off. An old legend (they affirmed)
proclaimed this near extinction of the line of Clopton, and that the
hall would be unlucky whilst their race continued its owners.
The brave old knight, gentle and even-tempered as he was, and whom on
ordinary provocation it was difficult to anger, was peculiarly sensitive
on this subject. Any allusion to the wild legend from a servitor, or
rustic on his estate, would be sure to be followed by displeasure or
dismissal; whilst mention of it from one in his own rank would have been
considered equivalent to an invitation to the dark walk at the end of
the pleasance, armed with rapier and dagger.
Sir Hugh had beheld his children fade away, apparently of hereditary
disease, one after another in their early youth; all except the
beautiful Charlotte, the pledge of a second marriage, and whose mother
had died soon after giving birth to this their only child, and he was in
consequence tremblingly alive to the slightest alarm of accident or
illness. It was under such circumstances that Sir Hugh, in accepting the
guardianship of his nephew, had learned to look upon the well-favoured
Walter almost with the eye of a parent, and had set his heart upon a
marriage between him and his lovely child.
Under such circumstances, too, had young Shakespeare performed the piece
of service we have described,--a service beyond reward (as the old
knight worded it), beyond aught he had to bestow; and it was under such
circumstances that the youth became an occasional visitor at Clopton
Hall, where he was admitted on an equality with the inmates, and
received in a manner perhaps no other circumstances would have been
likely to lead to.
The line drawn between persons of different condition in life was then
more strictly kept, and more accurately defined than in our own day. But
the good sense of Sir Hugh led him to appreciate superior attainments
wherever they were to be found. The ignorance of youth proceeded, he
thought, from idleness; the continuance of ignorance in manhood from
pride--the pride which is less ashamed of being ignorant than of seeking
instruction. At Clopton, therefore, men of worth were received, even
though of low estate.