' This account was in the best
Rowleian manner, with strange spelling and uncouth words, but for
the most part quite intelligible to the ordinary reader.
Rowleian manner, with strange spelling and uncouth words, but for
the most part quite intelligible to the ordinary reader.
Thomas Chatterton - Rowley Poems
'_Your stuff_! ' he would say. Nevertheless he admitted that his
apprentice was always to be found at his desk, for he often sent the
footman in to see. And no doubt on some of these occasions Chatterton
was copying the legal precedents of which 370 folio pages, neatly
written in a well-formed handwriting, remain to this day as evidence
of legitimate industry. At other times he was certainly composing
poems by Rowley.
Perhaps at this point it would be well to give some account of
Chatterton's method in the production of ancient writings. First it
seems he wrote the matter in the ordinary English of his day. Then he
would with the help of an English-Rowley and Rowley-English Dictionary
(which he had laboriously compiled for himself out of the vocabulary
to Speght's _Chaucer_, Bailey's _Universal Etymological Dictionary_,
and Kersey's _Dictionarium Anglo-Britannicum_) translate the work
into what he probably thought was a very fair imitation of fifteenth
century language. His spelling Professor Skeat characterizes as
'that debased kind which prevails in Chevy Chase and the Battle of
Otterbourn in Percy's _Reliques_, only a little more disguised. '
Percy's _Reliques_ were not published till 1765, but it is natural to
suppose that Chatterton when he was 'wildly squandering all he got
On books and learning and the Lord knows what,' and thereby involving
himself in some little debt, would have bought the volume very soon
after its publication. Finally as to the production of 'an original'.
We have two accounts; one of which represents the pseudo-Rowley
rubbing a parchment upon a dirty floor after smearing it with ochre
and saying 'that was the way to antiquate it'; the other, even more
explicit, is the testimony of a local chemist, one Rudhall, who was
for some time a close friend of Chatterton's. The incident in which
Rudhall appears is worth relating at length.
In the month of September 1768 an event of some importance occurred at
Bristol--a new bridge that had been built across the Avon to supersede
a structure dating from the reign of the second Henry being formally
thrown open for traffic. At the time when this was the general talk
of the city Chatterton had left with the editor of _Felix Farley's
Bristol Journal_ a description of the 'Fryars passing over the Old
Bridge taken from an ancient manuscript.
' This account was in the best
Rowleian manner, with strange spelling and uncouth words, but for
the most part quite intelligible to the ordinary reader. The editor
accordingly published it (no payment being asked) and great curiosity
was aroused in consequence. Where had this most interesting document
come from? Were there others like it? The Bristol antiquaries,
rather a large body, were all agog with excitement. Ultimately they
discovered that the unknown contributor, of whom the editor could
say nothing more than that his 'copy' was subscribed _Dunclinus
Bristoliensis_, was Thomas Chatterton the attorney's apprentice. Now
the amazing credulity of these learned people is one of the least
comprehensible circumstances of our poet's strange life. For on being
asked how he had come by his MSS. he refused at first to give any
answer. Then he said he was employed to transcribe some old writings
by 'a gentleman whom he had supplied with poetry to send to a lady the
gentleman was in love with'--the excuse being suggested no doubt by
the case of Miss Hoyland and his friend Baker. Finally when, as we
can only conclude, this explanation was disproved or disbelieved, he
announced that the account was copied from a manuscript his father
had taken from Rowley's chest. And this explanation was considered
perfectly satisfactory.
Yet it seemed obvious that the antiquaries would demand to see the
manuscript, and Chatterton, contrary to his usual practice of secrecy,
called upon his friend Rudhall and, having made him promise to tell
nothing of what he should show him, took a piece of parchment
'about the size of a half sheet of foolscap paper,' wrote on it in
a character which the other did not understand, for it was 'totally
unlike English,' and finally held what he had written over a candle
to give it the 'appearance of antiquity,' which it did by changing the
colour of the ink and making the parchment appear 'black and a little
contracted. ' Rudhall, who kept his secret till 1779 (when he bartered
it for ? 10, to be given to the poet's mother, at that time in
great poverty), believed that no one was shown or asked to see this
document. Why, it is impossible to say.