However mean a man may be,
Know – man is man as well as thee;
However high thy gentle line,
Know, He who writes can rank with thine.
And, though his frame be worn and dead,
Some light still glitters round his head:72
Grundy also accompanied Branwell on several jaunts back to Haworth to consult a well known fortune teller, something of which Patrick would have heartily disapproved.73
In fact, Branwell enjoyed some very respectable company at Luddenden Foot. A frequent visitor to his station offices, for instance, was the Reverend Sutcliffe Sowden, a young clergyman who was newly ordained and had only taken up his first appointment as incumbent of St James’ Church at Mytholmroyd on 1 May 1841, moving to Hebden Bridge later that year. The two had much in common, being about the same age and sharing a love of the wild beauty of the Calderdale scenery. Sowden was a great walker and noted geologist and Branwell spent many happy hours exploring the countryside with him. Branwell was also well known among the local manufacturers: he possibly painted formal portraits in oils of John Titterington and his wife and certainly drew sketches of John Murgatroyd or George Richardson in his notebook.74 Significantly, it was the ‘merchants and mill-owners’ of the Upper Calder Valley who raised and put their names to a petition on Branwell’s behalf when he was dismissed from the railway, so he must have had many friends among this class.75 He was not simply mixing with the weavers and factory hands who formed the bulk of the population.
In Halifax, too, Branwell was able to enjoy the company of some of the most respected Yorkshire musicians, artists and writers of the day. Prominent among the first was John Frobisher, who had a finger in every musical pie in the district and had organized Liszt’s triumphant concert. Leyland, the sculptor, was already an old friend and John Wilson Anderson, an artist Branwell knew from his days in Bradford, was a regular visitor.76 Among the writers were also old friends and new: William Dearden, for instance, a native of Hebden Bridge and an old family friend, who had known him as a child. Dearden was now based in Huddersfield, where he was principal of the King Street Academy, but he was a poet in his own right, known as the ‘Bard of Caldene’, and had had his poetry published in the local press. John Nicholson, too, ‘The Airedale Poet’, whom Branwell had probably met in Bradford, was a regular contributor to the Halifax and Leeds papers. Branwell must also have been introduced to the Halifax-based Thomas Crossley, the ‘Bard of Ovenden’, who was a mainstay of the poetry columns of Yorkshire newspapers.77 Another minor poet who certainly did meet Branwell was William Heaton, who later produced a volume of poems entitled Flowers of Caldervale. Heaton, like Anderson and Dearden, was part of the Leyland circle and, like them, an admirer of Branwell Brontë.
Sometimes he was blithe and gay and at others he looked downcast and sad but if the conversation turned upon some topic that he was well acquainted with or some Author that he loved he would rise from his seat and in beautiful and flowery language vindicate the man’s character with a zeal that I never saw equal[le]d[.] Real[l]y his talents were of a superior kind. I have heard him quote pieces from the Bard of Avon, Shell[e]y Wordsworth and Byron as well as from Butler’s Hudibrass in such a man[n]er as often made me wish that I was a scholler[.] At that time I was just beginning to write poetry tis true I had written many Pieces but they had never seen the light so one day I showed him one, which he pronounced very good considering the means that I had at my disposal[.] He lent me books that I had never seen before and was always ready to give me instruction[.] His temper was always mild towards me tis true he loved his cup as he frequently called his glass of Brandy but I shall never forget his love for the sublime and beautiful[.] he loved the beautiful works of nature and would tell us little stories about some pretty thing that he had seen[,] some lovely flower and some scarce thing that he had observed[.] the mountain stream and the woodland rill had their excel[l]encies for him and I have often heard him dillate on the sweet strains of the Nightingale and the bewitching thoughts that crost his mind the first time he heard one.78
In the company of friends such as these, Branwell received encouragement and helpful criticism. They formed a sort of informal society, meeting in the George Hotel in Market Street, Bradford, the Anchor and Shuttle at Luddenden Foot, the Lord Nelson at Luddenden and the Broad Tree, Union Cross, Talbot and Old Cock in Halifax. They even ventured out into Branwell’s home territory, occasionally meeting at the Black Bull in Haworth and the Cross Roads, between Haworth and Keighley. The object of the meetings was not simply conviviality: those who were writers read aloud to the group the manuscripts of their latest books and poems for criticism by the other members.79
Branwell clearly took the advice of these friends to heart. His work at this period shows constant revisions, suggesting a painstaking search for the perfect turn of phrase which he had been too impatient to achieve in his juvenile work. Equally important, their example encouraged him to pursue again his lifelong ambition to see his poems in print. Within a month of taking up his post at Luddenden Foot, Branwell had his first poem published in the Halifax Guardian – some five years before his sisters achieved publication. It is often suggested that Branwell only got his poems in print through the offices of J. B. Leyland and that newspaper publication hardly qualifies as a recognition of talent. This is both churlish and unlikely. Though Roberts Leyland had been the publisher and printer of the Halifax Guardian until 1837, there is no evidence to suggest that the Leylands had any influence with its current publisher, James Uriah Walker. More conclusively, Francis Leyland, in his biography of the Brontës, seems unaware that Branwell was actually published in the local press.80
The Halifax Guardian was justly proud of its poetry columns, welcoming gifts of ‘Original Poetry’ but also publishing pieces by all the famous poets of the day. Nor did it hesitate to reject material which it considered beneath the high standards of which it openly boasted. The little editorial column addressed ‘To our Readers and Correspondents’ frequently contained a stinging rebuke to some poor soul who had presumed to send his ‘feeble’ verses for publication. On the other hand, it gave particular encouragement to poetry written specially for the Halifax Guardian, so that its poetry columns were usually fresher, more original and often of a higher standard than the conventional gushings from the likes of Mrs Hemans and Caroline Norton, which were reproduced in the Leeds and Yorkshire papers.
It was therefore a real achievement when Branwell had his first poem printed in the Halifax Guardian. There is no doubt that he sent the poem in himself, not through Leyland. A note appeared in the ‘To the Readers and Correspondents’ section on 22 May 1841 stating that the editor could not find room for certain items sent that week and addressing ‘P.B.B.’ in particular, adding, ‘The Poetry must for the above reason, stand over for a week.’81 It was in fact a further two weeks before Branwell’s poem, ‘Heaven and Earth’ by ‘Northangerland’, appeared under the banner of ‘Original Poetry (For the Halifax Guardian)’. Perhaps surprisingly, the poem was an affirmation of religious faith, contrasting the ‘circumscribed … scene’ of human life with the infinity of Heaven.
On Earth we see our own abode,
A smoky town, a dusty road,
A neighbouring hill, or grove;
In Heaven a thousand worlds of light
Revolving through the gloom of night
O’er endless pathways rove.
While daylight shows this little Earth
It hides that mighty Heaven,
And, but by night, a visible birth
To all its stars is given;
And, fast as fades departing day,
When silent marsh or moorland grey
Mid evening’s mist declines
Then, slowly stealing, star on star,
As night sweeps forward, from afar,
More clear and countless shines.82
This was the first of thirteen poems by Branwell which the Halifax Guardian pu
blished over the next six years. Eight of them, including this one, were revisions of pieces written in 1837–8; two more drew on Angrian themes and probably also dated from that period. All but two were published by Branwell under his favourite pseudonym, Northangerland, suggesting that despite his confidence in his ability he was diffident when it came to publicly acknowledging his authorship.83
The only poem which Branwell published under his own initials, ‘P.B.B.’, was an eight-line squib ‘On the Melbourne Ministry’, which appeared in the Halifax Guardian on 14 August 1841. Necessarily a composition of the moment, it celebrated the fall of the Whig Government after the July elections and the return to power of Sir Robert Peel and the Conservatives. No doubt Branwell, who had been excluded from the election activities at Haworth, attended the celebratory tea parties at the Murgatroyd Arms and the Lord Nelson in Luddenden.84
Though these two poems were the only ones to be published while Branwell was still at Luddenden Foot, his notebooks reveal that he was constantly employed in new poetic composition as well as revision of the old. The sheer quantity and quality of this poetry gives the lie to claims that his year on the railway at Luddenden Foot was simply a period of debauchery and defeatism. Interestingly, too, these poems were the most overtly autobiographical he had yet written, suggesting a new and reflective maturity. There is some evidence to indicate that Branwell felt he had not made the most of his talents. In a poem written from his lodgings at Brearley Hall on 8 August 1841, he wrote:
When I look back on former life
I scarcely know what I have been
So swift the change from strife to strife
That passes oer the wildering scene
I only feel that every power –
And thou hadst given much to me
Was spent upon the present hour
Was never turned My God to thee85
Similarly, on 19 December, a visit to Luddenden Church brought him to the realization that he was losing his sense of direction for the future because of his preoccupation with and absorption in the present.
O God! while I in pleasures wiles
Count hours and years as one
And deem that wrapt in pleasures smil[e]s
My joys can neer be done
Give me the stern
To look into the past
Which I/ must meet at last86
Such sentiments were the exception to the rule, however, for most of Branwell’s poems written at Luddenden Foot were charged with ambition, energy and optimism. Though Charlotte’s evident scorn at the lowliness of his position may have stung his pride, Branwell felt that his present, comparatively humble station in life was no impediment to future greatness. The voice of ambition continued to call:
Amid the worlds wide din around
I hear from far a solemn Sound
That says “Remember Me!” …
I when I heard it sat amid
The bustle of a Town like room
Neath skies,
By windows, made to show their gloom –
The desk that held my Ledger book
Beneath the thundering rattle shook
Of Engines passing by
The bustle of the approaching train
Was all I hoped to rouse the brain
Or startle apathy87
Branwell evidently took comfort in comparing his own lowly position to that of men who had gone on to achieve greatness. The storms of a typically grim December day,
The desolate earth – The Wintry Sky –
The ceas[e]less rain showers driving by –
The farewell of the year
did not depress him but rather inspired him to remember the victories of mankind in the face of adversity. Citing Galileo, Tasso, Milton, Johnson, Cowper and Burns – all except Galileo, significantly, writers – he went on to consider how each of them had overcome poverty, low birth, imprisonment, even physical disability, to achieve immortality. Similarly, in the autumn of 1841 he wrote the first of three versions of a long poem about Horatio Nelson, which was evidently inspired by ‘Nelsoni Mors’, a poem by his father’s Cambridge friend, Henry Kirke White. The poem followed Nelson from his unpromising childhood to his glorious death at Trafalgar. In choosing his subject, Branwell must have been aware of the similarities in their backgrounds: Nelson, too, was a parsonage child and had lost his mother at an early age.88
In writing these poems, Branwell had an eye to publication. He may even have intended to write a whole series of poems on great men of the past, as he twice drew up a list of potential subjects, in each case marking off the ones he had covered.89 Clearly he had no shortage of inspiration and, though he may have suffered periodic bouts of depression, his literary output and the achievement of his ambition to publish suggests that he had everything to look forward to.
It was therefore a severe blow to his self-esteem when he was summarily dismissed from the Leeds and Manchester Railway. A company audit of the Luddenden Foot ledgers at the end of March 1842 revealed that they were ‘in a very confused state’ and, more seriously, that there was a shortfall of fu is £1 1s. 7d.in the accounts. Though not suspected of theft or fraud, Branwell was held responsible: the amount was deducted from his quarter’s salary and he was discharged from the company’s service.90 According to Grundy, he was ‘convicted of constant and culpable carelessness’, the result of his wandering off on rambles round the hills leaving only his porter in charge. According to Leyland, it was to Mr Woolven, his ‘fellow-assistant’, that Branwell entrusted the running of the station. There are problems with both these claims. Branwell took his duties at Luddenden Foot seriously enough to forgo the pleasure of returning home over Christmas, for instance, even though he must have known that Charlotte and Emily were about to go abroad. Woolven was in fact stationed at Hebden Bridge and, far from being Branwell’s assistant, was actually appointed to investigate his books with the company auditor. Branwell’s clerk would appear to have been the twenty-five-year-old William Spence, who lived, like Branwell, at Brearley. It would therefore appear that if Branwell did neglect his duties, he left the station in the charge of either William Spence or Henry Killiner, the thirty-year-old railway porter.91
Whatever the rights and wrongs of the matter, Branwell was responsible, morally and officially, for the missing money. Despite ‘a memorial from certain merchants, mill-owners & residents of Luddenden Foot, interceding for the re-employment of Mr Bronte’ his dismissal was confirmed by a meeting of the board of directors on 11 April, and Branwell found himself unemployed once more.92 Though dismissal in such circumstances was deeply humiliating and discreditable, there is evidence to suggest the affair was not as serious as it appears at first sight. The Leeds and Manchester Railway was famous for taking an unusually hard line with its staff. Any employee whose neglect, however unintentional, caused an accident could expect instant arrest and prosecution for dereliction of duty. As accidents happened frequently on the new line, this was not a rare event. Drunkenness was regarded as an extremely serious offence: one engine driver who reported for duty in a state of inebriation was not only prosecuted but sentenced to two months’ hard labour.93 Had Branwell been suspected of either fraud or dereliction of duty, he would undoubtedly have been prosecuted. Similarly, the facts that, within two months of his dismissal, Branwell sought Grundy’s help in obtaining a new post on the same railway and that, four years later, it was intimated to him that he might be considered for one, suggest that his crime was not serious enough to disqualify him from ever working for the company again.94
Perhaps fortunately, by the time Branwell returned to Haworth at the beginning of April only his father and aunt were at home. Anne was at Thorp Green and Charlotte and Emily were in their school in Brussels. They had been escorted there by their father who, despite a disinclination to leave home which had grown stronger over the years, det
ermined that his daughters should have his protection for their first trip outside the north of England. The journey came at a time of considerable inconvenience to himself. On 7 January 1842, the Bradford churchwardens had again pressed their demand for a church rate of £76 12s. 10d. to be laid in Haworth chapelry. While Patrick had supported the opponents in their resistance to the previous demand, he was now outspoken in his denunciation of the Bradford churchwardens. He opened the meeting by declaring from the chair that
the rate now demanded, had not, according to his opinion, the sanction of either law or custom, having been laid in quite an unusual way, contrary to the vote and voice of a great majority of the rate payers … He entreated the body of the ratepayers then before him to consider the dilemma in which the chapelwardens of Haworth were placed, by having such a heavy demand pressed upon them at this time when even the poor’s rate could only with the greatest difficulty be obtained and hoped that all parties, both Whigs, Radicals, Tories, Dissenters, Methodists, and Churchmen would unite heartily to save them from the jeopardy and peril to which they are exposed by the strange and unprecedented proceedings of the Bradford churchwardens … The Rev. gentleman then told the people that his mind was quite made up never more to attempt a compulsory Church Rate either for Bradford or Haworth so long as the law stood as it does.95
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