Henry Wallis's painting 'The Death of Chatterton,
Thomas Chatterton was an English poet and a brilliant forger of medieval poetry who tragically died of poisoning from self-administered arsenic, aged just seventeen years and nine months old, on this day August 24 1770.
Chatterton was born at Bristol,on November 20 1752. His father, the
sexton of St Mary Redcliffe, a musician, a poet, and a numismatist, who
had dabbled in the occult had died four months previously. Thomas was raised by his mother, grandmother and older sister. But
he was close to his uncle, who had taken over his late father’s role as
sexton, and he encouraged his precocious nephew in his academic and
literary pursuits, as well as giving him the run of the church.
Inspired
by illuminated music folios discarded by his father, the young Thomas
taught himself to read and spent hours poring over old books, scraps of
manuscripts and minuments (title deeds) hidden in his father’s wooden
chest.
Chatterton's
love for reading was nurtured by his sister, who related that he did
not like reading small books. Instead, he was drawn to the illuminated
capitals of an old musical folio and the black-letter Bible. Chatterton
was a wayward child, uninterested in the games of other children, and
thought to be educationally backward. When asked what device he would
like painted on a bowl that was to be his, he replied, "Paint me an
angel, with wings, and a trumpet, to trumpet my name over the world."
Despite
his eccentricities, Chatterton's capacity for learning was recognized
by his mother at age 6, and by age 8, he was so eager for books that he
would read and write all day long if undisturbed. By the age of 11, he
had already become a contributor to Felix Farley's 'Bristol Journal.'
His confirmation inspired him to write religious poems published in the
paper.
The destruction of a cross in the
churchyard of St Mary Redcliffe by a churchwarden in 1763 left a deep
impression on Chatterton. He sent a satire on the parish vandal to the
local journal on 7 January 1764, demonstrating his strong sense of
veneration for the church. Chatterton also had a little attic that he
had converted into his study. There, surrounded by books, cherished
parchments, loot purloined from the muniment room of St Mary Redcliffe,
and drawing materials, the child lived in thought with his 15th-century
heroes and heroines.
Chatterton's childhood was
full of mystery and wonder, which would go on to shape his literary
output in later life. His love for the past, his interest in the occult,
and his sense of veneration for the church all contributed to his
unique perspective on life.Best known by his
contemporaries for his series of Thomas Rowley poems, purportedly the
work of a forgotten Medieval monk but in reality written by Chatterton
himself on 15th century parchment.
Chatterton's
adoption of Rowley is believed to have been driven, in part, by his
desire to reconstitute the lost father figure in fantasy.
Having been
raised by two women,his mother Sarah and his sister Mary, Chatterton's
masculine identity was held back. To compensate for the lack of a
paternal presence, Chatterton unconsciously created two interweaving
family romances, each with its own scenario.
The
first of these family romances was the romance of Rowley, whom he
created as a father-like figure with a wealthy patron, William Canynge.
Chatterton imagined himself as a talented poet who could earn fame and
wealth through his work and thus rescue his mother from poverty. The
second family romance was his romance of "Jack and the Beanstalk," which
is said to have been a means of resolving his feelings of powerlessness
and oppression. Chatterton's adoption of the
Rowley persona is notable for the extent to which he immersed himself in
the character and he went to great
lengths to create a detailed backstory for him, complete with a jargon
that he called "Rowleian."
As
Thomas Chatterton's literary ambition grew, so did his need for
financial support. In search of a patron, he first turned to the
antiquarians of Bristol, who were eager to use his Rowley transcripts
for their own work. However, they were not willing to pay him enough,
and so he set his sights on the wealthier and more influential figure of
Horace Walpole. Chatterton sent samples of Rowley's poetry and a
manuscript on the rise of painting in England to Walpole, hoping to
impress him enough to secure his patronage.
Walpole,
intrigued by the possibility of discovering lost works of medieval
literature, initially expressed interest in publishing Chatterton's
pieces. But when he discovered that Chatterton was only 16 years old and
that the authenticity of the Rowley pieces was in question, he turned
his back on the young poet, dismissing him with scorn.
Yet Chatterton was not cowed: he went on to publish more than fifty
works across literary, political and historical journals under an array
of pseudonyms and is alleged to have written a poem attacking Walpole (later
persuaded from sending it by his sister Mary). ‘Walpole!’, it begins,
‘I thought not I should ever see/So mean a Heart as thine has proved to
be.’ ‘Say, didst thou ne’er indulge in such Deceit?/Who wrote Otranto?’
These ‘Lines to Walpole’ were probably a forgery by Chatterton’s
biographer John Dix but they certainly shed light on the poet’s clash
with Walpole.
All this is should be noted because Walpole himself was highly sensitive to questions over authenticity
having himself fallen foul of critics over his Gothic novel The Castle of Otranto (1764) where he had been accused of plagiarism.
The revelation led to Walpole being condemned as ‘false’ and
‘preposterous’ by the poet and clergyman John Langhorne on account of deceit. The whole affair is curious when Walpole’s extensive
antiquarian credentials are taken into account. Perhaps Walpole was ashamed that Chatterton held a mirror up to his own literary forgeries.
Chatterton's
search for a patron was not just a matter of financial need, but also a
quest for validation and recognition. He yearned for someone to
appreciate his talent and to help him achieve the literary success that
he believed he deserved. Unfortunately, his attempts to win the support
of the literary establishment were met with skepticism and rejection,
leaving him feeling disillusioned and alone.
After
being rejected by Horace Walpole, Thomas Chatterton's creativity took a
hit. However, he soon bounced back and turned his attention towards
periodical literature and politics. He started writing for London
periodicals like the 'Town and Country Magazine', where he adopted the
pseudonym Junius. Junius was a popular letter writer of that time who
was known for his strong opinions and controversial writings.
Chatterton, in his Junius persona, targeted the Duke of Grafton, the
Earl of Bute, and the Princess of Wales.
However, Chatterton's political
writings were not without consequences. His attacks on the government
and monarchy were seen as treasonous, and he was accused of seditious
libel. In 1770, he was arrested for writing a letter that accused the
Lord Mayor of London of being corrupt. Although he was eventually
released, the incident left a lasting impression on him.
Despite
the risks, Chatterton continued to write politically charged pieces.
His writing not only reflected his own beliefs but also mirrored the
sentiments of the common people who were fed up with the corrupt
government and the aristocracy. His writings became a voice for the
voiceless and inspired others to speak out against injustice.
Chatterton's political writings were a testament to his
courage, wit, and passion for justice. He used his pen to expose the
corruption and hypocrisy of those in power and gave a voice to the
common people. Although his writing was controversial and led to legal
troubles, his legacy lives on as a writer who was unafraid to speak
truth to power.
On the evening of 24 August 1770, Chatterton locked himself in his room in
his Brook Street attic and drunk a dose of arsenic mixed to water after tearing into fragments
whatever literary remains were at hand. A few days earlier, while
walking in St Pancras Churchyard, Chatterton had fallen into a newly dug
grave, which prompted his walking companion to joke that he was happy
in assisting at the resurrection of genius. Chatterton, however, replied
that he had been at war with the grave for some time, hinting at his
troubled mental state.
His body was discovered on the 25th of August. The coroner's ruling, a suicidal death as a result of insanity.He may also have been suffering from a venereal disease.
'Since we can die but once, what matters it,
If rope or garter, poison, pistol, sword,
Slow-wasting sickness, or the sudden burst
Of valve arterial in the noble parts,
Curtail the miseries of human life?
Though varied is the cause, the effect's the same:
All to one common dissolution tends.' - Thomas Chatterton
If rope or garter, poison, pistol, sword,
Slow-wasting sickness, or the sudden burst
Of valve arterial in the noble parts,
Curtail the miseries of human life?
Though varied is the cause, the effect's the same:
All to one common dissolution tends.' - Thomas Chatterton
Thomas Chatterton was buried in a mass paupers grave at London’s Shoelane Workhouse Cemetery. It sadly no longer exists.Chatterton's
untimely death was a tragic end to a brilliant career that promised
great
things, as as he had
shown exceptional talent at an early age and was regarded as a prodigy.
His writings showed exceptional talent and revealed his deep
knowledge of English literature and history. Chatterton was a master of
deception, having created a literary hoax that deceived many scholars of
his time. His works, which often imitated the style of medieval poetry,
were remarkable for their depth and richness. He was a true genius who
died before his time, leaving behind a legacy that continues to inspire
writers and readers today. Chatterton was a seminal figure and precocious and original literary
talent, whose been honoured by the powers of his
literary invention by invoking their reimaginings of his life and
legacy.
The Rowley poems were published in 1777 and the 'Rowley controversy' ' continued until the end of the century, By then most people were convinced that the poems were the brilliant creations of Thomas Chatterton.
Seen as a symbol of society's neglect of the artist he was elevated to the status of hero and martyr by the Romantics and the life of this
‘marvelous boy’, as Chatterton came to be known, would subsequently
touch some of the most eminent English poets – Samuel Taylor Coleridge,
William Wordsworth, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Lord Byron, Sir Walter Scott
and Dante Gabriel Rossetti – several of whom came to regard him as a
muse who
mythologized him in their own poetry.
In popular culture Chatterton's genius and his death are commemorated by Shelley in Adonais (though its main emphasis is the commemoration of Keats), by Wordsworth in "Resolution and Independence", by Coleridge in "A Monody on the Death of Chatterton," by Dante Gabriel Rossetti in "Five English Poets," and in John Keats's sonnet "To Chatterton". Keats also inscribed Endymion "to the memory of Thomas Chatterton". French singer Serge Gainsbourg wrote a song, Chatterton:
Chatterton suicidé Hannibal suicidé [...] Quant à moi Ça ne va plus très bien
and Peter Ackroyd's 1987 novel Chatterton was an acclaimed literary re-telling of the poet's story, giving emphasis to the philosophical and spiritual implications of forgery.
Henry Wallis's painting
'The Death of Chatterton,' now displayed at the Tate Britain in London,
is the most famous image of the poet in the 19th century. Two smaller
versions of the painting are held by the Birmingham Museum and Art
Gallery and the Yale Center for British Art.
The painting alludes to the idea of the artist as a martyr of society through the
Christ-like pose and the torn sheets of poetry on the floor. The pale
light of dawn shines through the casement window, illuminating the
poet's serene features and livid flesh. The harsh lighting, vibrant
colours and lifeless hand and arm increase the emotional impact of the
scene. A phial of poison on the floor indicates the method of suicide.
Following the Pre-Raphaelite credo of truth to nature, Wallis has
attempted to recreate the same attic room in Gray's Inn where Chatterton
had killed himself. The model for the figure was the novelist George
Meredith (1828-1909), then aged about 28. The
British Library holds a collection of "Chattertoniana," which includes
works by Chatterton, newspaper cuttings, articles dealing with the
Rowley controversy, and other items relating to the poet's life and
legacy.
In 1886, architect Herbert Horne and Oscar Wilde unsuccessfully attempted to have a plaque erected at Colston's School, Bristol. Wilde, who lectured on Chatterton at this time, suggested the inscription: "To the Memory of Thomas Chatterton, One of England's Greatest Poets, and Sometime pupil at this school."
In 1928, a plaque in memory of Chatterton was mounted on 39, Brooke Street, Holborn, bearing the inscription below. The plaque subsequently has been transferred to a modern office building on the same site.
In a House on this Site
Thomas Chatterton,
died
24 August 1770.
Tho end this post here are the final words from Thomas Chatterton:
Farewell, Bristolia's dingy piles of brick,
Lovers of mammon, worshippers of trick!
Ye spurned the boy who gave you antique lays,
And paid for learning with your empty praise.
Farewell, ye guzzling aldermanic fools,
By nature fitted for corruption's tools!
I go to where celestial anthems swell;
But you, when you depart, will sink to hell.
Farewell, my mother!—cease, my anguished soul,
Nor let distraction's billows o'er me roll!
Have mercy, Heaven! when here I cease to live,
And this last act of wretchedness forgive.
Lovers of mammon, worshippers of trick!
Ye spurned the boy who gave you antique lays,
And paid for learning with your empty praise.
Farewell, ye guzzling aldermanic fools,
By nature fitted for corruption's tools!
I go to where celestial anthems swell;
But you, when you depart, will sink to hell.
Farewell, my mother!—cease, my anguished soul,
Nor let distraction's billows o'er me roll!
Have mercy, Heaven! when here I cease to live,
And this last act of wretchedness forgive.
- Thomas Chatterton , 24 August 1770
