Book Read Free

Brontës

Page 71

by Juliet Barker

Where God has given a cheerful view

  A gloomy vista showing

  Where heart and face, are fair and true

  A shade of doubt bestowing

  Ah Lady if to me you give

  The power your sketch to adorn

  How little of it shall I leave

  Save smiles that shine like morn.

  Ide keep the hue of happy light

  That shines from summer skies

  Ide drive the shades from smiles so bright

  And dry such shining eyes

  Ide give a calm to one whose heart

  has banished calm from mine

  Ide brighten up Gods work of art

  Where thou hast dimmed its shine

  And all ask[sic] the wages I should ask

  For such a happy toil

  Ill name them – far beyond my task —

  THY PRESENCE AND THY SMILE72

  Though the poem exists only in draft form, scribbled in pencil on a page from the missing notebook, it was undoubtedly intended for presentation to Mrs Robinson. One can well imagine her gratification on receiving poetic tributes of this kind from her son’s young tutor – though she might not have appreciated his tactful removal of the reference to her own ‘youth demure’!

  It is not impossible that it was the discovery of poems like this, addressed to Mrs Robinson, that brought about Branwell’s downfall. Even if the poems were not signed or attributed to Northangerland, Mr Robinson must have been able to recognize Branwell’s distinctive handwriting. He certainly knew of Branwell’s poetic efforts and ambitions, which Mrs Robinson encouraged but which he dismissed with contempt. Mrs Robinson was herself distantly related to Thomas Babington Macaulay whose Lays of Ancient Rome had been published to great acclaim in 1842, the year before Branwell’s appointment to Thorp Green. It was undoubtedly through her that Branwell gained access to Macaulay, much to Mr Robinson’s disgust: ‘my late unhappy employer shrunk from the bare idea of my being able to write anything, and had a day’s sickness after hearing that Macaulay had sent me a complimentary letter’.73

  Branwell also claimed that Mr Robinson would not recognize his poetic pseudonym ‘Northangerland’, in which case it seems unlikely that he was aware that his son’s tutor was actually publishing poems under his very nose in the Yorkshire Gazette. This was a newspaper produced in York by Henry Bellerby, a bookseller and stationer who also ran one of York’s two public libraries from his shop at No. 13, Stonegate. The Robinsons had an account with Bellerby and Branwell, like the rest of the family, borrowed books from his library.74 As Branwell was undoubtedly a regular visitor at the shop and library it is only surprising that his contact with Bellerby did not result in his poems being published by the Yorkshire Gazette much earlier. As it is, the paper published only four poems by Branwell, all of them within ten weeks of his dismissal.

  On 10 May 1845 the Yorkshire Gazette carried two sonnets by ‘Northangerland’, ‘Blackcomb’ and ‘On Landseer’s Picture – “The Shepherd’s Chief Mourner” – a dog watching alone by his master’s grave’. They were both old poems. The first had been written five years earlier, when Branwell was a tutor at Broughton-in-Furness, the second, which had already appeared in the Bradford Herald in 1842, dated back to at least 1841.75 The fact that he had at last got an entrée to a new newspaper seems to have encouraged Branwell. Sixteen days later he made a fair copy of a pair of new sonnets called ‘The Emigrant’, which were duly published in the Yorkshire Gazette on 7 June. The subject was topical as the newspapers were full of the recent spate of emigrations prompted by the hardships endured by the poor in England and Ireland in ‘the hungry forties’. Many unemployed working-class families, as well as those, like Mary Taylor, seeking to earn their own living in a less censorious society, had left for the new worlds of Canada, Australia and New Zealand. Branwell’s first sonnet gives the story of the departing emigrant a new twist.

  When sink from sight the landmarks of our home,

  And – all the bitterness of farewells o’er –

  We yield our spirit unto ocean’s foam,

  And, in the new-born life which lies before,

  On far Columbian or Australian shore,

  Strive to exchange time past for time to come;

  How melancholy then – if morn restore

  (Less welcome than the night’s forgetful gloom)

  Old England’s blue hills to our sight again;

  When we, our thoughts seemed weaning from her sky,

  That pang, which wakes the almost silenced pain!

  Thus, when the sick man lies, resigned to die,

  A well-loved voice, a well-remembered strain,

  Lets time break harshly in upon eternity.76

  The second sonnet is less innovative and less successful, describing how the emigrant, now settled in his new home, finds comfort and calm in memories of the old.

  At the beginning of June 1845 everything seemed to be going well for Branwell. He still enjoyed his lady’s favours, his tutorial post was not arduous and left him plenty of time for his own pursuits, and his recent poetic efforts had been crowned with the accolade of publication in a widely respected journal. Neither he nor the Robinsons seem to have had the faintest inkling of the crisis that was about to burst upon them, though it must have been about this time that Anne Brontë handed in her resignation. Her reasons for doing so were never explicitly stated. Even her diary paper, written shortly after Branwell’s dismissal, only hints at general dissatisfaction. Rereading her diary paper of 1841, she recalled:

  How many things have happened since it was written – some pleasant some far otherwise – Yet I was then at Thorp Green and now I am only escaped from it – I was wishing to leave then and if I had known that I had four years longer to stay how wretched I should have been … but during my stay I have had some very unpleasant and undreamt of experience of human nature –77

  This suggests that Anne was aware of the relationship between her brother and Mrs Robinson, though not necessarily that it was about to be exposed. As she must have served out her notice, her resignation would seem to have been prompted by a growing sense of disgust with Mrs Robinson and her children rather than fear of a scandal involving her brother. Five years with the Robinsons had brought her to the end of her endurance.

  On 3 June, anticipating some hours of leisure ahead, Branwell compiled and sent off a list of books he would like to borrow from Mr Bellerby’s library.78 A week later, on 11 June, Mr Robinson paid Anne the £3 10s. which was owed to her since the payment of her last quarter’s salary of £10 on 11 May. On the same day, 11 June, he also advanced Branwell his quarter’s salary of £20, which was not due until 21 July. Mr Robinson’s reasons for taking this unusual step are not clear. It cannot have been an effective dismissal or the payment would have been only for that proportion of the salary which had been earned, as Anne’s had been. Even though Mr Robinson may have been anticipating the fact that Branwell was about to go home for a week’s holiday, it still seems odd that he should have advanced the salary so early. The Robinsons themselves were to leave for Scarborough on 4 July but Branwell would be back at Thorp Green with them for at least two weeks before they set off – giving ample time for the salary to be paid then.79 Though it is tempting to see something sinister in this early payment, the reason may simply be that Branwell needed the money for his travel arrangements and that Mr Robinson tidied up his accounts with the Brontës by paying both on the same day before they left for home. Whatever the explanation, it is clear that even at this late date Mr Robinson had no cause for dissatisfaction with Branwell, or he would not have advanced his salary.

  Though their salaries were paid on 11 June the Brontës probably did not leave Thorp Green till the following Saturday, 14 June. Charlotte does not mention Anne or Branwell in her letter to Ellen written on 13 June, but they were certainly at home by 18 June when their presence
enabled Charlotte to write in high glee to accept Ellen Nussey’s invitation to Hathersage. By 27 June Branwell had gone again: ‘Branwell only stayed a week with us’, Charlotte told Ellen, ‘but he is to come home again when the family go to Scarbro’.’80 Though Branwell’s comings and goings at this time also seem strange, it is unlikely that he lied to his family about his orders to return to Thorp Green, as Anne would have been able to contradict him.

  Much has been made of the fact that when the Robinsons set off for Scarborough on 4 July, they left Edmund behind in his tutor’s care. This is seen as the catalyst for Branwell’s subsequent dismissal; both Winifred Gérin and Daphne du Maurier, for instance, suggest that Edmund revealed something about his tutor when he rejoined the family in Scarborough on 17 July which caused his outraged father to write that very day to dismiss Branwell.81 Unfortunately, the assumption that Edmund was left behind is based solely on the unreliable and contradictory evidence of the visitor lists published in the weekly Scarborough newspapers. Even if we do accept that he might have travelled separately and that his belated appearances in the listings of the Scarborough Record and Scarborough Heraldaxc significant, the newspapers offer conflicting dates for his arrival and both place it after the accepted date of 17 July.82 As the two papers were sister publications, the likeliest explanation is that Edmund’s name was simply omitted by accident and that, in attempting to rectify the mistake, an apparent mystery was created.

  The fact that Edmund travelled with the rest of his family is indirectly confirmed by other, more reliable, sources. The journal of George Whitehead, who lived at Little Ouseburn, notes that the Robinsons set off for Scarborough on Friday, 4 July; though he seems to have been well informed about the family, he does not mention that Edmund was left behind.83 This same date is confirmed by Mr Robinson himself, who recorded his travelling expenses to Scarborough in his cash book the following day. Of great significance is the fact that among those expenses is 17s. for the purchase of a whip for Edmund; as provision was made for five horses, Edmund was presumably riding one of these rather than with his family in the coach. Another gift to him of 12s. 6d. is recorded on 16 July.84 It therefore seems most likely that Edmund actually went to Scarborough with his family, as he had done in previous years, and that he was not left behind in Branwell’s care. As Charlotte had told Ellen, Branwell would return home to Haworth when the family went to Scarborough.

  If Branwell did linger at all it would have been to observe the grand opening of the York and Scarborough Railway, which took place on Monday, 7 July,85 three days after the Robinsons left Thorp Green. Given Branwell’s past career on the railway and his continuing interest in the subject, one could well imagine that he would wish to see the celebrations, which were marked by processions and speeches.

  The Robinsons had been at Scarborough – and Branwell at Haworth – for almost two weeks before Branwell received his letter of instant dismissal. The gossip in Haworth, recounted many years later by the sister of Nancy Garrs, was that the gardener at Thorp Green had surprised Branwell and Mrs Robinson together in the boathouse and had informed the lady’s husband. This story was certainly current in 1856 when George Smith’s detectives were told by Patrick Brontë himself that ‘A gardener – whose name he did not know – had definite proofs of guilt and had informed, as he understood, Mrs—’s husband.’ This seems as good an explanation as any for the suddenness of the blow which befell Branwell. It is highly probable that he would have had an assignation with Mrs Robinson on the eve of their separation for the holiday, and there may have been a boathouse on the banks of the Ouse, just over half a mile from the house and therefore eminently suitable for a clandestine meeting. Perhaps, after conducting a secret affair undiscovered for two years, they had grown careless and did not notice that they were observed. It is more likely, however, that the assignation took place in the boathouse on the shore at Scarborough, just below the Robinsons’ lodgings at The Cliff.86 This would explain the delay between the Robinsons’ departure for Scarborough and the sending of the letter of dismissal. If Branwell was supposed to be at home, but had indiscreetly followed his mistress to Scarborough and was recognized by the family servant, then discovery of the affair was almost inevitable.

  The identity of the gardener lends some support to this story. He was a Robert Pottage and his wife also worked for the Robinsons. Despite his job Pottage seems to have accompanied the Robinsons to Scarborough, perhaps to assist the groom, William Allison, with the horses and luggage on the journey. On 5 July, among the expenses for the journey, Mr Robinson records a payment of £110s. to ‘Pottage and to band’. While the coupling of the two items suggests that the payment was regarded by Mr Robinson as of trifling importance, it is just possible that it might have been a gratuity for information given. It is not clear whether Pottage remained in Scarborough or returned immediately to Thorp Green. If he had not already divulged his secret in person, he then had a much-needed opportunity to mull over his predicament – he was certain to incur Mrs Robinson’s wrath if he betrayed her to her husband, but equally he would fall foul of Mr Robinson if the affair came to light by other means. Having decided that he owed his loyalty to his employer, he may then have revealed what he had seen in a letter to Mr Robinson. Though it may be pure coincidence, Pottage did not last long in the Robinsons’ employment: he ‘left and finish’d all up’ at Thorp Green on 13 February 1846 and left Little Ouseburn altogether on 23 March, only two months before Mr Robinson died.87 As Mr Robinson’s rapidly failing health had been evident to all and his death was now imminent, one cannot help wondering whether Pottage decided to leave before the management of the estate fell entirely into the hands of his vengeful widow.

  Mr Robinson’s letter certainly sounds like the immediate reaction of a betrayed husband; his language was strong, though he may not have gone so far as to threaten to shoot his former tutor if he returned to Thorp Green as Branwell claimed.88 What is surprising is that – as far as one can tell – the revelation of the affair led to no breach with his wife. He remained as open-handed with her as he had always been, even during the holiday in Scarborough when he must have taken his decision to sack Branwell,89 and, though he cut his eldest daughter out of his will for making her runaway match, his erring wife suffered no such hardship. This suggests that Mrs Robinson was able to divert her husband’s anger onto Branwell and depict herself as the innocent and unwilling recipient of his attentions. The alternative, that there really was no affair and that Branwell was dismissed for some other reason, does not square with the rest of the evidence.

  Perhaps the most damning indications of Mrs Robinson’s guilt came after the dismissal. There seems to be no other explanation for the large sums of money Branwell received from Thorp Green or the visit of Mrs Robinson’s coachman, apparently sent by her;90 nor indeed for the continuing correspondence with both Ann Marshall and Dr Crosby, who relayed information about Mrs Robinson while also conveniently keeping him at a distance.

  Branwell’s first reaction to his dismissal was characteristically dramatic, as Charlotte reported to Ellen:

  We have had sad work with Branwell since – he thought of nothing but stunning or drowning his distress of mind – no one in the house could have rest – and at last we have been obliged to send him from home for a week with some one to look after him –91

  Though Branwell had over-indulged many times before, he did not become a habitual drinker until the abrupt ending of his affair with Mrs Robinson.92 Charlotte’s use of the word ‘stunning’ as well as ‘drowning’ his distress also suggests that Branwell may have tried opiates as well as alcohol in an attempt to find relief in oblivion. At this stage, however, he was still capable of pulling himself together, at least temporarily. He had been despatched, in the company of John Brown, to the west coast, from where he wrote on 31 July to a sceptical Charlotte:

  [he] expresses some sense of contrition for his frantic folly – he promises amendment on his return – but so lon
g as he remains at home I scarce dare hope for peace in the house – We must all I fear prepare for a season of distress and disquietude —93

  In fact, Branwell’s brief trip from home does seem to have had the effect of calming him down. Though Liverpool may seem a strange choice of destination it was immensely popular with holidaymakers from the West Riding, who could travel there cheaply and quickly on the Manchester and Leeds Railway. Liverpool was then the starting point for taking pleasure steamers along the beautiful coast of North Wales and to the Isle of Man and across the Mersey to the new town of Birkenhead. Branwell and John Brown certainly took the trip along the Welsh coast, for Branwell not only sketched Penmaenmawr mountain from the sea but also later wrote a poem inspired by it.94 Even during the steamer trip he seems to have found some relief in poetry, writing at least one poem, titled ‘Lydia Gisborne’ in Greek letters, which gives an insight into his agitated state.

  Cannot my soul depart

  Where will it fly?

  Asks my tormented heart,

  Willing to die.

  When will this restlessness

  Tossing in sleeplessness –

  Stranger to happiness –

  Slumbering lie.

  Cannot I chase away

  Life in my tomb

  Rather than pass away

  Lifetime in gloom,

  With sorrows employing

  Their arts in destroying

  The power of enjoying

  The comforts of home?

  Home it is not with me

  Bright as of yore

  Joys are forgot with me

  Taught to deplore/

 

  My home has ta’en its rest

  In an afflicted breast

  That I have often pressed

  But – may no more.95

  By the end of his short holiday Branwell had recovered enough of his former spirits to be able to write with black humour to his old friend, the Halifax sculptor, J. B. Leyland:

  I returned yesterday from a week’s journey to Liverpool and North Wales, but I found during my absence that wherever I went a certain woman robed in black, and calling herself’MISERY’ walked by my side, and leant on my arm as affectionately as if she were my legal wife.

 

‹ Prev