Brontës (83 page)

Branwell, in the meantime, had soon bounced back from the misery into which he had been cast by his dismissal from the Leeds and Manchester Railway. By the middle of May he was cheerful enough to write to J. B. Leyland enclosing a sketch of a half-buried tombstone bearing the legend ‘Resurgam', ‘I will rise again'.
⁵⁴
A week later, on 22 May, he wrote along the same lines to Francis Grundy, exaggerating his situation as usual.

I cannot avoid the temptation to cheer my spirits by scribbling a few lines to you while I sit here alone – all the household being at church – the sole occupant of an ancient parsonage among lonely hills, which probably will never hear the whistle of an engine till I am in my grave.

After experiencing, since my return home, extreme pain and illness, with mental depression worse than either, I have at length acquired health and strength and soundness of mind, far superior, I trust, to anything shown by that miserable wreck you used to know under my name. I can now speak cheerfully and enjoy the company of another without the stimulus of six glasses of whisky; I can write, think, and act with some apparent approach to resolution, and I only want a motive for exertion to be happier than I have been for years. But I feel my recovery from almost insanity to be retarded by having nothing to listen to except the wind moaning among old chimneys and older ash trees, nothing to look at except heathery hills walked over when life had all to hope for and nothing to regret with me – no one to speak to except crabbed old Greeks and Romans who have been dust the last five thousand years.
⁵⁵

The letter was clearly intended to win Grundy's sympathy, but it was far from the truth. Branwell may have been ill on his return home – from anxiety as to his father and aunt's reaction as much as anything else – but he had been fully occupied since then. He had been deeply involved in the memorial committee and had seen Leyland and two of his friends only two days before he wrote this letter. Though his sisters were all away from home, he had not lacked company. Indeed, without them, he was in a position to enjoy the undivided attention of ‘one of my dearest friends', William Weightman. His sister Anne, too, was due home shortly for her annual
summer holiday before going on to Scarborough where she would spend six weeks at No. 15, The Cliff, with the Robinsons.
⁵⁶

An even more telling argument against Branwell's supposed depression of spirits was the fact that, since his dismissal from Luddenden Foot, he had enjoyed his greatest ever literary success. Before a month had passed, he had seen his first poem published in the newly established Tory newspaper, the
Bradford Herald
. The poem was an entirely new one, a sonnet inspired by Landseer's painting ‘The Old Shepherd's Chief Mourner', which he had written at Luddenden Foot. A week later he had a second sonnet, ‘On the Callousness produced by Cares', published simultaneously in the
Bradford Herald
and the
Halifax Guardian
. This was a revision of a poem first written in 1837. On the same day it appeared in the
Halifax Guardian
, Branwell had another new poem published in yet another paper, the
Leeds Intelligencer
. ‘The Afghan War', which Branwell seems to have written only twelve days before its publication, was on the entirely topical subject of the disastrous British retreat from Kabul a few months before.
⁵⁷
A week later again and another sonnet, ‘On Peaceful Death and Painful Life', appeared in both the
Bradford Herald
and the
Halifax Guardian
. This was also originally written in 1837 but substantially revised and improved.
⁵⁸
The sheer volume of his material appearing in the local press throughout the month of May suggests that Branwell's mood must have been more optimistic than his letter to Grundy suggests. He must also have been kept extremely busy, writing, revising and sending the poems off for publication.

Branwell kept up this extraordinary momentum throughout the year. ‘Caroline's Prayer: on the change from childhood to womanhood' appeared in the
Bradford Herald
and the
Halifax Guardian
at the beginning of June 1842; the same papers both published his ‘Song' a week later, his ‘An Epicurean's Song' the next month and ‘On Caroline' a week after that. All were revisions of earlier Angrian poems.
⁵⁹

Branwell was clearly contemplating a literary career once again. He appears to have sent some of these poems to James Montgomery, a poet based in Sheffield, whose works were widely published in the provincial papers. Branwell told Grundy that Montgomery

and another literary gentleman, who have lately seen some thing of my ‘head work', wish me to turn some attention to literature, sending me, along with their advice, plenty of puff and praise; and this may be all very well; but I have little conceit of myself, and great desire for activity.
⁶⁰

In pursuit of greater ‘activity', Branwell had sought Grundy's advice about obtaining another post on the railways, which is surely an indication that he had actually enjoyed his job at Sowerby Bridge and Luddenden Foot. Grundy had answered discouragingly, causing Branwell to reply:

I should have been a fool to entertain, under present circumstances, any very sanguine hopes respecting situations connected with Railways; since I could not but be aware of the great glut in
that
market.

Branwell's ambitions did not extend simply to gaining a similar post to his previous one. Evidently jealous of his sisters' adventures in Belgium, he had decided that he too should enjoy the benefit of working on the Continent.

I had only

hoped that, from the few who are generally found willing \to take them,/ and from so many Railways being contemplated, in France &c., situations
abroad
would be more attainable.

You ask me, Sir; why I don't turn my attention in another direction? and so I would but that most of my relations, and more immediate connections, are Clergymen, or, by a private life, somewhat removed from this busy world – And, as for the Church, I have not one mental quality – except perhaps hypocrisy – whi[c]h would make me

cut a figure in its pulpits.
⁶¹

His enquiries through Grundy having failed, and nothing else suitable appearing on the horizon, Branwell applied himself to his poetry with renewed zeal. Not all his output was simply reworkings of earlier poems. In the summer of 1842, he responded to a challenge from William Dearden:

Bronté and I agreed that each should write a drama or a poem, the principal character in which was to have a real or imaginary existence before the Deluge; and that, in a month's time, we should meet at the Cross Roads Inn, which is about half-way between Keighley and Haworth, and produce the result of our lucubrations.
⁶²

Dearden produced his ‘Demon Queen', Branwell a long poem in several parts entitled ‘Azrael, or the Eve of Destruction'. Dearden, who was not a totally partial critic, believed that if the poem had been published, as Branwell intended, it would ‘fully bear out my opinion, and prove to the world that Branwell was not inferior in genius and power to the gifted
Currer Bell'.
⁶³
Though the claim was exaggerated, the poem was one of Branwell's best, a dramatic depiction of the confrontation over Methuselah's grave between Noah, the patriarch prophesying God's anger and the flood, and Azrael, the Jewish and Islamic angel of death, who denies God's existence and urges defiance. ‘I know', Azrael tells the crowds,

That Human life revolts to think

It ever stands on nothing's brink,

That Human pride recoils to see

The Heap of dust tis doomed to be! – …

So when the shadow of TO COME

Surrounds the Heart with boding gloom

Nature abhorrs to look at naught

And frames for ease a world of thought. –

So – when the Sickman lies to die

He gasps for Hope in Agony

And as the Earth yeilds none to save

He makes a Hope beyond the grave! –

Thus Heaven is but an Earthly dream,

Tis Man makes God – not God makes him! –

Azrael's eventual overthrow is presaged in his dying wife's dream in which she sees God on his eternal throne and is called to die before the flood, ‘The last on earth who may to heaven attain!'
⁶⁴

Though not all the poem was published – and indeed only the first part may have been written – Branwell rewrote the first forty-eight lines and submitted them as ‘Noah's Warning over Methuselah's Grave. (From an unpublished poem)' to the
Bradford Herald
, where they appeared on 25 August.
⁶⁵
Twelve days later, Branwell wrote modestly and diplomatically to
Blackwood's Magazine
, offering them his latest revision of ‘Sir Henry Tunstall'. The letter is a model of its kind and eloquently reveals how Branwell's earlier arrogance had been crushed out of him by his repeated failure to achieve a hearing.

Sir,

I beg most respectfully to offer the accompanying lines, for insertion in Blackwoods Edinburgh Magazine.

They endeavour – feebly enough, I fear – to describe the harsh contrast
between a mind, changed by long absence from home, and the feelings still alive in those who have never wandered; and who vainly expect the absent to return with a heart as warm as when they bade him fare well.

The kind advice and encouragement of Mrs Southey has alone emboldened me to make this offering, and, if you should cast a favourable eye upon it, I shall remain with more of thankfulness than vanity,

Your most obdt Servt,

Patrick. B. Brontë
⁶⁶

The lessons learnt from his circle of Halifax friends had also made their mark. Branwell had drafted the letter first before making a fair copy of it to send to the editor; consequently it was neatly written and to the point unlike his previous efforts. The fact that Branwell had sent the lines to Robert Southey's wife, Caroline Bowles, a poet in her own right, was again an indication of his yearning for approval and his desperation to achieve some sort of opening into the larger world of publishing beyond the provincial press. Despite his newly acquired maturity and the quality of his lines – better than many of the outpourings of more famous authors appearing in
Blackwood's Magazine
at the time – Branwell failed once more to win a response.

Another poem, begun at Luddenden Foot and revised this autumn, was Branwell's epic ‘The Triumph of mind over body', a redrafting of his poem on Lord Nelson.
⁶⁷
Undoubtedly this, too, was intended for publication. It was written up in a fair copy and sent to Francis Grundy – not because he had any literary skills but because he had connections, through his father, with the Martineau family. James Martineau, a Unitarian minister in Liverpool and professor of mental and moral philosophy at Manchester New College since 1840, had been a colleague of Grundy's father and had taught Grundy himself for a year or two. His sister, Harriet Martineau, whom Grundy had also met, was even more famous as the author of novels and works on political economy. They were not the only eminent literary figures to whom the work was sent: through Grundy, Branwell also approached Leigh Hunt, the essayist and poet who was also editor of
The Examiner
. According to Grundy, it was at Branwell's ‘special request' that he submitted it for criticism to Leigh Hunt, Miss Martineau ‘and others'; All spoke in high terms of it.'
⁶⁸
Of James Martineau's response, Branwell himself indicated that he intended to write ‘gratefully and sincerely acknowledging the receipt of his most
kindly and truthful criticism – at least in advice, though too generous far in praise'.
⁶⁹

While Branwell made an all-out assault on the bastions of contemporary English literature, events in Haworth were moving towards a crisis. In August, the pent-up despair of the famished and fever-stricken unemployed erupted in violence. Led by Chartist activists, thousands of factory workers took up makeshift arms and marched on the northern industrial towns. There they stopped the mills by persuasion or, if necessary, by coercion. There were riots, with violent consequences, in Halifax, Huddersfield, Bradford, Todmorden, Bingley, Skipton and Keighley and, on 14 August, it was estimated that 10,000 Chartists were gathered on Lees Moor, within sight and sound of Haworth.
⁷⁰
They were joined by malcontents from Haworth, though Patrick, who had lived through the Luddite riots thirty years before, undoubtedly urged on them the futility of doing so. The military were called out to arrest and, in some instances, shoot the rioters. Some order had been restored by 19 August, when most of the Keighley mills were working again, but there was a scare the following Sunday morning. It appeared that the Chartists were starting to assemble again on Lees Moor and parts of the moor were observed to be on fire. Fearing another attack, the bells of Keighley Parish Church were rung to raise the alarm. A party of the 17th Lancers who were stationed in the town and a troop of Yorkshire Hussars, headed by William Busfeild Ferrand, ‘the Hero of Harden Grange', as he was dubbed by the local press, set out to encounter them, aided by 300 civilians who were hurriedly gathered from the places of religious worship and armed with staves. By the time the forces had reached Lees Moor, the rioters had dispersed and only a party of Ranters was discovered. Though the outcome had been peaceful there had been genuine cause for alarm in both Keighley and Haworth, where a repetition of events of the previous week had been feared.
⁷¹

A couple of weeks later there was another serious alarm as disgruntled mill workers sabotaged their employers' machinery by removing the plugs from the boilers which powered the looms. The magistrates came to the Black Bull in Haworth to swear in special constables to form an ‘Anti-Plug Dragoon Regiment'. Most of the more substantial householders were sworn in, together with servants from the larger establishments. One of them, the son of a manufacturer, reported seeing a light in Matty Wood one evening, the alarm was given and between forty and fifty of the ‘regiment' assembled. The ‘Plug-Dragoons' were captured and brought back to the Black Bull,
where it was discovered that the prisoners were a fisherman, an idiot and a party of children ‘engaged in the patriotic exploit of storming a wasp's nest'. Edgy and primed to respond to the serious threat of riot, the Haworth special constables had overreacted. One can well imagine that Branwell was one of the volunteer constables; in after years, the landlord of the Black Bull remembered how Branwell had offered to go in during a mill riot and thrash a dozen fellows ‘any one of whom could have put him in his pocket and carried him off at a minute's notice'.
⁷²
Patrick, though too old for such active duty, was no doubt grateful for the pistols he had preserved since the days of the Luddite riots. Certainly, writing to thank John White of Upperwood House for his kind enquiries as to his daughters' progress in Brussels, Patrick was grateful that the Conservatives were now in government and had the situation under control.