Brontës (108 page)

As an alternative to drink, he tried to find refuge from his misery in writing but his every effort was so coloured by his mood that, instead of taking him out of himself, writing simply reinforced his unhappiness. Like Emily and Anne, he had reverted to the imaginary world of his childhood but the obsession with his flawed hero, Northangerland, which had dominated all his Angrian writings, now returned to haunt him. With the dismal ending of all his own ambitions, Branwell could no longer summon enthusiasm for Northangerland's machinations to achieve power; instead, it was the figure of Northangerland, defeated, debauched and disgraced, with which he identified most closely.

In searching through his old notebooks, he came across a poem he had written on 15 December 1837, on the death of Mary Percy, Northangerland's wife. The subject had obvious affinities for Branwell. He copied the poem out, taking great care to redraft clumsily phrased lines and improve the scansion, and sent it to the
Halifax Guardian
. It was published on 5 June 1847, where it appeared under the title ‘The End of All'; ironically, it was to be his last work to appear in print.

In that unpitying winter's night,

When my own wife – my Mary – died,

I, by my fire's declining light,

Sat comfortless, and silent sighed.

While burst unchecked, grief's bitter tide,

As I, methought, when she was gone,

Not hours, but years like this must bide,

And wake, and weep, and watch alone …

I could not bear the thoughts which rose,

Of what
had
been and what
must be
,

But still the dark night would disclose

Its sorrow-pictured prophecy:

Still saw I – miserable me,

Long – long nights else – in lonely gloom,

With time-bleached locks and trembling knee,

Walk aidless – hopeless – to my tomb.
⁵³

Rereading these lines, ten years after he had first written them, Branwell must have been startled to find himself fulfilling their uncannily prophetic vision of his own future which had then seemed so brilliant. His own life was imitating that of his creation to an extent he could not then have dreamt possible. The only glimmer of hope in the thick pall of gloom which hung over him was that, as this poem had proved, his work was still worth publishing.

The final removal of any hopes Branwell had cherished concerning Mrs Robinson absolutely prostrated him. He sought comfort in the oblivion of drink and abandoned all serious attempts at writing. His few remaining extant poems for the period 1847 to 1848 are simply unfinished reworkings of old material.
⁵⁴
Man and boy he had always been an innovator, eager to try out new forms and new ideas, his inspiration fed by his ambition to appear in print and his delight in Angria. Now his only hope of publication lay in the poems he had written as a teenager and Angria had become a morass from which he could not extricate himself.

Charlotte must have thought that she was finished as a publishable writer.
Poems
, which had been her brainchild, had sold only two copies and the manuscript of her novel
The Professor was
still doing the dreary round of the publishers' offices.
Wuthering Heights
and
Agnes Grey
had fared little
better. They had been accepted for publication, but not on the terms that the sisters had wished. Emily and Anne were, in effect, to pay for their publication as a three-volume set, just as they had paid for
Poems
. The terms were, as Charlotte described them, ‘somewhat impoverishing to the two authors'; they were to advance fifty pounds, which would be refunded if and when their novels sold sufficient copies to cover the sum.
⁵⁵
It is not clear whether Thomas Cautley Newby, the publisher, had actually rejected
The Professor
altogether or whether Charlotte had simply refused to pay for its publication. Tenacious to the end, Charlotte prepared to send her manuscript for the seventh time to a ‘forlorn hope', the small publishing house of Smith, Elder & Co. of 65, Cornhill, London. Having written so often, only to be rejected, she simply wrote a bald, business-like accompanying note – very different from the first one she had sent to Henry Colburn almost exactly a year before.

Gentlemen

I beg to submit to your consideration the accompanying Manuscript – I should be glad to learn whether it be such as you approve and would undertake to publish – at as early a period as possible. Address – Mr Currer Bell Under cover to Miss Brontë Haworth Bradford Yorkshire

July 15th /47

Messrs Smith & Elder Cornhill
⁵⁶

So low were her expectations that she did not even bother to parcel up the manuscript in new paper, simply crossing out the last address and writing in the new. As George Smith later commented, ‘This was not calculated to prepossess us in favour of the MS. It was clear that we were offered what had been already rejected elsewhere'. It must have come as no surprise to Charlotte when she received no reply, but after an anxious wait of three weeks she was concerned enough to write again to check that the manuscript had arrived safely and to enclose a stamped addressed envelope for Smith, Elder & Co.'s answer.
⁵⁷

What Charlotte could not know was that William Smith Williams, the firm's reader, had recognized the ‘great literary power' of
The Professor
, but did not believe it would sell. He consulted the young proprietor of the firm George Smith, and they agreed to send a letter of ‘appreciative criticism' declining the work but expressing the opinion that Currer Bell was capable of producing a book which would command success.
⁵⁸
Three days after
sending her stamped addressed envelope, Charlotte was astonished to receive a reply. Opening it, ‘in the dreary expectation of finding two hard hopeless lines, intimating that Messrs. Smith and Elder “were not disposed to publish the MS.”', she found instead a two-page letter which she read in trembling excitement.

It declined, indeed, to publish that tale, for business reasons, but it discussed its merits and demerits so courteously, so considerately, in a spirit so rational, with a discrimination so enlightened, that this very refusal cheered the author better than a vulgarly-expressed acceptance would have done. It was added, that a work in three volumes would meet with careful attention.
⁵⁹

Still reluctant to abandon her cherished first novel, Charlotte wrote back to plead again for
The Professor
.

Your objection to the want of varied interest in the tale is, I am aware, not without grounds – yet it appears to me that it might be published without serious risk if its appearance were speedily followed up by another work from the same pen of a more striking and exciting character. The first work might serve as an introduction and accustom the public to the author's name, the success of the second might thereby be rendered more probable.
⁶⁰

Smith, Elder & Co. declined to accept this specious argument and politely rejected
The Professor
once more while expressing their willingness to see Charlotte's new work – a ‘narrative in 3 vols. now in progress and nearly completed, to which I have endeavoured to impart a more vivid interest than belongs to the Professor'.
⁶¹
Charlotte estimated that it would take her about a month to complete
Jane Eyre
, but the tantalizing prospect of an interested publisher spurred her faster. The fair copy of the manuscript was finished in just over two weeks and posted off by rail from Keighley on 24 August. The new station would not accept a prepaid parcel, so Charlotte asked Smith, Elder & Co. to let her know the cost so that she could reimburse them in postage stamps. Her naive suspicion regarding the ‘excessive parsimony of London publishers in regard to postage stamps' seems to have both touched and amused the gentlemen of Smith, Elder & Co., but, to their credit, it did not lead them to underrate their potential new author.
⁶²

While Charlotte spent an anxious fortnight awaiting their judgement, the readers at Smith, Elder & Co. were united in their opinion of
Jane Eyre
.
One young reader was so ‘powerfully struck' by the tale that his enthusiasm caused merriment: ‘You seem to have been so enchanted, that I do not know how to believe you', George Smith laughingly declared. When William Smith Williams, who was a more clear-headed judge of literary matters, confessed that he had sat up half the night to finish the manuscript, George Smith was intrigued and, at Williams' behest, read it for himself.

He brought it to me on a Saturday, and said that he would like me to read it. There were no Saturday half-holidays in those days, and, as was usual, I did not reach home until late. I had made an appointment with a friend for Sunday morning; I was to meet him about twelve o'clock, at a place some two or three miles from our house, and ride with him into the country.

After breakfast on Sunday morning I took the MS. of 'Jane Eyre' to my little study, and began to read it. The story quickly took me captive. Before twelve o'clock my horse came to the door, but I could not put the book down. I scribbled two or three lines to my friend, saying I was very sorry that circumstances had arisen to prevent my meeting him, sent the note off by my groom, and went on reading the MS. Presently the servant came to tell me that luncheon was ready; I asked him to bring me a sandwich and a glass of wine, and still went on with ‘Jane Eyre.' Dinner came; for me the meal was a very hasty one, and before I went to bed that night I had finished reading the manuscript.
⁶³

In the subsequent light of
Jane Eyre's
phenomenal success, George Smith always gave the impression that his firm had instantly recognized the novel's potential and accepted it with unqualified enthusiasm. In fact, events at the time suggest a rather different story. Though it may be true that George Smith accepted the book for publication the day after he read the manuscript, he was nevertheless a hard-headed man of business and did not let his enthusiasm run away with him. The terms on which it was to be published were not overly generous, even for a first-time author. ‘Currer Bell' was offered one hundred pounds for the copyright on condition that Smith Elder & Co. had first right of refusal on ‘his' next two books, for which ‘he' was also to receive one hundred pounds each. In the event, with further editions and foreign rights, the actual payments were in the region of five hundred pounds per novel; even so, by comparison with, for instance, the eight hundred pounds paid to Mrs Gaskell for the English copyright alone of her two-volume biography of Charlotte, the money on offer was poor.
⁶⁴
Though Charlotte remained loyal to Smith, Elder & Co. because the firm
had been the first to recognize her talent, the issue of her remuneration was always to be a touchy subject.

Charlotte was no fool and was well aware that the contract offered by Smith, Elder & Co. would not guarantee her the capability of earning her living solely from writing. Given the temptation to accept the offer of publication on any terms that did not actually impoverish her, Charlotte proved to be less naive than the firm might have expected. ‘In accepting your terms, I trust much to your equity and sense of justice', she told them, before adding:

One hundred pounds is a small sum for a year's intellectual labour, nor would circumstances justify me in devoting my time and attention to literary pursuits with so narrow a prospect of advantage did I not feel convinced that in case the ultimate result of my efforts should prove more successful than you now anticipate, you would make some proportionate addition to the remuneration you at present offer. On this ground of confidence in your generosity and honour, I accept your conditions.
⁶⁵

While Charlotte was prepared to give way on the subject of payment, she was completely intransigent on the question of making further alterations to her manuscript. She might doubt her own financial acumen but never her literary judgement. Interestingly, since they never admitted to this publicly, her publishers seem to have had considerable doubts about the chapters on Jane Eyre's childhood and, in particular, on Lowood School, suggesting that she should rewrite them. Charlotte thanked the firm for their ‘judicious remarks and sound advice', but then added with more firmness than truth:

I am not however in a position to follow the advice; my engagements will not permit me to revise ‘Jane Eyre' a third time, and perhaps there is little to regret in the circumstance; you probably know from personal experience that an author never writes well till he has got into the full spirit of his work, and were I to retrench, to alter and to add now when I am uninterested and cold, I know I should only further injure what may be already defective. Perhaps too the first part of ‘Jane Eyre' may suit the public taste better than you anticipate – for it is true and Truth has a severe charm of its own. Had I told all the truth, I might indeed have made it far more exquisitely painful – but I deemed it advisable to soften and retrench many particulars lest the narrative should rather displease than attract.
⁶⁶

Perhaps feeling that she had been a little too uncompromising in defence of
Jane Eyre
, Charlotte tried to take a more emollient line on the next book, which she was now committed to writing.

I shall be happy … to receive any advice you can give me as to choice of subject or style of treatment in my next effort – and if you can point out any works peculiarly remarkable for the qualities in which I am deficient, I would study them carefully and endeavour to remedy my errors.

Allow me in conclusion to express my sense of the punctuality, straightforwardness and intelligence which have hitherto marked your dealings with me.

And believe me Gentlemen