



Produced by David Widger





RICHARD CARVEL

By Winston Churchill



CONTENTS OF THE COMPLETE BOOK

Volume 1.
I.     Lionel Carvel, of Carvel Hall
II.    Some Memories of Childhood
III.   Caught by the Tide
IV.    Grafton would heal an Old Breach
V.    "If Ladies be but Young and Fair"
VI.    I first suffer for the Cause
VII.   Grafton has his Chance

Volume 2.
VIII.  Over the Wall
IX.    Under False Colours
X.     The Red in the Carvel Blood
XI.    A Festival and a Parting
XII.   News from a Far Country

Volume 3.
XIII.  Mr. Allen shows his Hand
XIV.   The Volte Coupe
XV.    Of which the Rector has the Worst
XVI.   In which Some Things are made Clear
XVII.  South River
XVIII. The Black Moll

Volume 4.
XIX.   A Man of Destiny
XX.    A Sad Home-coming
XXI.   The Gardener's Cottage
XXII.  On the Road
XXIII. London Town
XXIV.  Castle Yard
XXV.   The Rescue

Volume 5.
XXVI.   The Part Horatio played
XXVII.  In which I am sore tempted
XXVIII. Arlington Street
XXIX.   I meet a very Great Young Man
XXX.    A Conspiracy
XXXI.   "Upstairs into the World"
XXXII.  Lady Tankerville's Drum-major
XXXIII. Drury Lane

Volume 6.
XXXIV.   His Grace makes Advances
XXXV.    In which my Lord Baltimore appears
XXXVI.   A Glimpse of Mr. Garrick
XXXVII.  The Serpentine
XXXVIII. In which I am roundly brought to task
XXXIX.   Holland House
XL.      Vauxhall
XLI.     The Wilderness

Volume 7.
XLII.   My Friends are proven
XLIII.  Annapolis once more
XLIV.   Noblesse Oblige
XLV.    The House of Memories
XLVI.   Gordon's Pride
XLVII.  Visitors
XLVIII. Multum in Parvo
XLIX.   Liberty loses a Friend

Volume 8.
L.     Farewell to Gordon's
LI.    How an Idle Prophecy came to pass
LII.   How the Gardener's Son fought the Serapis
LIII.  In which I make Some Discoveries
LIV.   More Discoveries.
LV.    The Love of a Maid for a Man
LVI.   How Good came out of Evil
LVII.  I come to my Own again




FOREWORD

My sons and daughters have tried to persuade me to remodel these memoirs
of my grandfather into a latter-day romance. But I have thought it wiser
to leave them as he wrote them. Albeit they contain some details not of
interest to the general public, to my notion it is such imperfections as
these which lend to them the reality they bear. Certain it is, when
reading them, I live his life over again.

Needless to say, Mr. Richard Carvel never intended them for publication.
His first apology would be for his Scotch, and his only defence is that
he was not a Scotchman.

The lively capital which once reflected the wit and fashion of Europe has
fallen into decay. The silent streets no more echo with the rumble of
coaches and gay chariots, and grass grows where busy merchants trod.
Stately ball-rooms, where beauty once reigned, are cold and empty and
mildewed, and halls, where laughter rang, are silent. Time was when
every wide-throated chimney poured forth its cloud of smoke, when every
andiron held a generous log,--andirons which are now gone to decorate Mr.
Centennial's home in New York or lie with a tag in the window of some
curio shop. The mantel, carved in delicate wreaths, is boarded up, and
an unsightly stove mocks the gilded ceiling. Children romp in that room
with the silver door-knobs, where my master and his lady were wont to sit
at cards in silk and brocade, while liveried blacks entered on tiptoe.
No marble Cupids or tall Dianas fill the niches in the staircase, and the
mahogany board, round which has been gathered many a famous toast and
