The truth, however, is that a painful form of physical infirmity, to which he was subject all the rest of his life, and which was aggravated by the least excitement, seemed to render this course imperative. It was not less imperative that he should immediately find other employment, and so for a time he turned his scholarly acquirements to advantage and fell back on his old work as a teacher. lie became in 1853 classical master at Wellesley House School, Twickenham Common. His dreams of distinction gathered in those days around poetry rather than prose, and his first book, a thin and scarce volume, appeared in the same year, entitled 'Poems by Melanter,' the most ambitious of which was a drama, 'Eric and Karine,' founded on the fortunes of Eric XIV of Sweden. It was quickly followed—at an interval of a few months—by 'Epullia,' which was also published anonymously. This book contains a felicitous translation from Musæus of the story of Hero and Leander, and an ambitious patriotic ballad on the battle of the Alma. But of more account is the beautiful invocation 'To my Pen'— perhaps the most finished and certainly the most fanciful of Blackm'ore's verse. 'The Bugle of the Black Sea,' a patriotic poem suggested by the war then in progress in the Crimea, appeared in 1855. He also translated some of the idylls of Theocritus, and his renderings were printed in 'Fraser's Magazine.' This was followed in 1860 by 'The Fate of Franklin,' on the title-page of which his name for the first time appeared as of 'Exeter College, Oxon. M.A., and of the Middle Temple.' He wrote the poem in aid of the fund for the erection of a statue of the explorer in his native town of Spilsby.
Shortly before this Blackmore's uncle, the Rev. H. H. Knight, died, and bequeathed to him a sum of money which enabled him to realise one of the dreams of his life— a house in the country encompassed by a large garden. His father, who in his closing years (he died suddenly in the autumn of 1858) was extremely kind to the young couple, took great interest in this scheme, and helped him to carry it into effect. Blackmore, in his walks about Twickenham when a master at Wellesley House, had seen a plot of land at Teddington Avhich he coveted, and he now bought it and built himself, well back from the road—there was no railway in those days—a plain substantial dwelling which he called Gomer House, a name suggested by that of a favourite dog ; and there he remained for the rest of his life, cultivating his vines, peaches, nectarines, pears, and strawberries, in enviable detachment from the world. His knowledge of horticulture was both wide and exact, and he devoted himself, with an enthusiasm and patience which nothing chilled or tired, to the lowly tasks of a market gardener. Unfortunately for himself he had received no business training, and was in consequence somewhat at the mercy of the men he employed, more than one of whom robbed him to a considerable extent. He was an expert in the culture of grapes and exotic plants, and for long years his fruit and flowers, and notably his pears, of which he was especially fond, found their way regularly to Covent Garden market, where, at one time — disgusted by the extortions of the middle men — he set up a stall. Late in life he declared that his garden of eleven acres, far from being remunerative, represented on an average 250l. a year out of pocket. He loved quality in fruit, and would send far and wide, regardless of expense, for choice specimen trees and plants, whereas the English public, he was never tired of asserting, had set its heart on quantity.
After Blackmore's settlement at Teddington, the earliest product from his pen was 'The Farm and Fruit of Old,' a sonorous and happy translation of the first and second Georgics of Virgil, which appeared in 1862. Scholars recognised its merit, but their approval did not sell the book. Disheartened by the languid reception of his work in verse, alike original and in translation, Blackmore sought another medium of expression, and found it in creative romance. His first novel, 'Clara Vaughan,' appeared in 1864, when he had entered his fortieth year, and it marked the beginning of his renown. In spite of the dramatic situations of the book and the remarkable powers of observation which it revealed, 'Clara Vaughan' was regarded as a curiously unequal sensational story, dealing with the unravelling of crime, and yet lit up by exquisite transcripts from nature. It appeared without its author's name, and rumour attributed it at the time to a lady novelist who was then rapidly approaching the height of her popularity. 'Cradock Nowell' — a name suggested by a veritable man so called, who once owned Nottage Court, and whose name is still conspicuous on a tablet in Newton church, which Blackmore said he used to gaze at as a child during the sermon — was published in 1866. 'Cradock Nowell' was described by its author as a tale of the New Forest. It was the only book in which he laid himself open to a charge of a parade of classical scholarship. It gave him a vogue with people who, as a rule, care little for
