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He told me the park from which Shakspeare stole the buck was not that which surrounds Charlcote, but belonged to a mansion at some distance where Sir Thomas Lucy resided at the time of the trespass. The tradition went that they hid the buck in a barn, part of which was standing a few years ago, but now totally decayed. This park no longer belongs to the Lucys.
The tradition that his departure was also caused by trouble into which he had got by killing the deer of Sir Thomas Lucy, of Charlcote, is credible. Leaving Stratford in 1585 or the beginning of 1586, he seems at once to have turned to the theatres, where he soon found work, although, as Rowe, his first biographer, says, "in a very mean rank."
I may mention among the pictures at Charlcote one called a Roman Knight, which seemed to me very fine; Teniers' marriage, in which, contrary to the painter's wont, only persons of distinction are represented, but much in the attitude in which he delights to present his boors; two hawking pieces by Wouvermans, very fine specimens, cum aliis.
In Charlcote Church is a memorial to Sir Thomas Lucy; and there is a glowing epitaph that quite upsets any of those taunting and defaming allusions in "The Merry Wives." At the foot of the monument is a line to the effect that the inscription thereon was written by the only one in possession of the facts, Sir Thomas himself.
"Why," said Robin, "it was just this way my father told me of it. Sir Thomas Lucy, High Sheriff of Worcester, y' know, rode in from Charlcote yesternoon, and with him Sir Edward Greville of Milcote. So the burgesses made a feast for them at the Swan Inn. Sir Thomas fetched a fine, fat buck, and the town stood good for ninepence wine and twopence bread, and broached a keg of sturgeon.
But we should think of her gratefully, for no doubt it was she who started the lad off for London. That's the way I expressed it to my new-found friend, and he agreed with me, so we shook hands and parted. Charlcote is as fair as a dream of Paradise. The winding Avon, full to its banks, strays lazily through rich fields and across green meadows, past the bright red-brick pile of Charlcote Mansion.
Drayton before Shakespeare's time called Warwick "the heart of England," and the heart of England it is today rich, luxuriant, slow. The great colonies of rabbits that I saw at Charlcote seemed too fat to frolic, save more than to play a trick or two on the hounds that blinked in the sun.
However, she came to Charlcote and dined on venison, and what a pity it is that she and Shakespeare did not meet in London afterward and talk it over! Some hasty individual has put forth a statement to the effect that poets can only be bred in a mountainous country, where they could lift up their eyes to the hills.
So I take credit for my good intention, and keep my sovereign a cheap and not unusual mode of giving charity. Learning from Washington Irving's description of Stratford that the hall of Sir Thomas Lucy, the justice who rendered Warwickshire too hot for Shakspeare, and drove him to London, was still extant, we went in quest of it. Charlcote is in high preservation, and inhabited by Mr.
Its great peculiarity to a thoughtful child lay in the fact that even at his small rate of progress he could pass in an hour from the clink, clink, clink on the anvils of the poor nailmakers, who worked in their own sordid back kitchens about the Ling or Virgin's End, to a rural retirement and quiet as complete as you may find to-day about Charlcote or Arden, or any other nook of the beautiful Shakespeare country.
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