George Bowring - A Tale of Cader Idris

R.D. Blackmore
George Bowring - A Tale Of
Cader Idris, by

R. D. Blackmore This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no
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Title: George Bowring - A Tale Of Cader Idris From "Slain By The
Doones" By R. D. Blackmore
Author: R. D. Blackmore
Release Date: August 14, 2007 [EBook #22317]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GEORGE
BOWRING ***

Produced by David Widger

GEORGE BOWRING--A TALE OF CADER IDRIS
By R. D. Blackmore
From "SLAIN BY THE DOONES" by R. D. Blackmore Copyright:

Dodd, Mead And Company, 1895
CHAPTER I.
When I was a young man, and full of spirits, some forty years ago or
more, I lost my best and truest friend in a very sad and mysterious way.
The greater part of my life has been darkened by this heavy blow and
loss, and the blame which I poured upon myself for my own share in
the matter.
George Bowring had been seven years with me at the fine old school of
Shrewsbury, and trod on my heels from form to form so closely that,
when I became at last the captain of the school, he was second to me. I
was his elder by half a year, and "sapped" very hard, while he laboured
little; so that it will be plain at a glance, although he never
acknowledged it, that he was the better endowed of the two with natural
ability. At that time we of Salop always expected to carry everything,
so far as pure scholarship was concerned, at both the universities. But
nowadays I am grieved to see that schools of quite a different stamp
(such as Rugby and Harrow, and even Marlborough, and worse of all
peddling Manchester) have been running our boys hard, and sometimes
almost beating them. And how have they done it? Why, by purchasing
masters of our prime rank and special style.
George and myself were at one time likely, and pretty well relied upon,
to keep up the fame of Sabrina's crown, and hold our own at Oxford.
But suddenly it so fell out that both of us were cut short of classics, and
flung into this unclassic world. In the course of our last half year at
school and when we were both taking final polish to stand for Balliol
scholarships, which we were almost sure to win, as all the examiners
were Shrewsbury men,--not that they would be partial to us, but
because we knew all their questions,--within a week, both George and I
were forced to leave the dear old school, the grand old town, the lovely
Severn, and everything but one another.
He lost his father; I lost my uncle, a gentleman in Derbyshire, who had
well provided my education; but, having a family of his own, could not

be expected to leave me much. And he left me even less than could,
from his own point of view, have been rational. It is true that he had
seven children; but still a man of,£15,000 a year might have done,
without injustice--or, I might say, with better justice--something more
than to leave his nephew a sum which, after much pushing about into
divers insecurities, fetched £72 10s. per annum.
Nevertheless, I am truly grateful; though, perhaps, at the time I had not
that knowledge of the world which enlarges the grateful organs. It
cannot matter what my feelings were, and I never was mercenary. All
my sentiments at that period ran in Greek senarii; and perhaps it would
show how good and lofty boys were in that ancient time, though now
they are only rude Solecists, if I were to set these verses down--but,
after much consideration, I find it wiser to keep them in.
George Bowring's father had some appointment well up in the Treasury.
He seems to have been at some time knighted for finding a manuscript
of great value that went in the end to the paper mills. How he did it, or
what it was, or whether he ever did it at all, were questions for no one
to meddle with. People in those days had larger minds than they ever
seem to exhibit now. The king might tap a man, and say, "Rise, Sir
Joseph," and all the journals of the age, or, at least, the next day, would
echo "Sir Joseph!" And really he was worthy of it. A knight he lived,
and a knight he died; and his widow found it such a comfort!
And now on his father's sudden death, George Bowring was left
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