BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES

were, no doubt, most galling to his sensitive pride ; he liad to board with the servants, and even to sleep with the ' footboy ', but, despite the close watchfulness of the said servants, and notwithstanding the lawyer's rutbless way of dealing with ail unprofessional work, the poor scrivener's dull drudgery afforded him leisure enough to compose, together with much sham history and coarse satire, the greater number of his Rowley poems. It was noticed that, when engaged on such arduous and suspicions labour, the youthful forger was more gloomy and reserved than ever. No wonder : he had, by the aid of two or three imperfect glossaries, to impart to his modem English the most delusive garb possible in those unscholarly days; but, 'a great genius, as he would say, can effect everything.* Nor did he trust, but in two exceptional instances, either his relatives or his most intimate friends (for he had a few then) with the secret of his elaborate schemes, preferring in his perverse self-conceit the bitter pleasure of mystification to the frank enjoyment of more or less deserved praise. When compelled to account for his marvellous discoveries, he had either an evasive answer or some ready falsehood ; or, at best, he produced old parchments blackened over by the smoky flame of a candie or besmeared by the sprinkling of some dark liquid. Once he managed to sell two such documents for two guineas ; but vainly did he ofFer others ; he then railed against his townsmen's mean and unappreciative turn of mind. Dissatisfied with a success so unremunerative, he ventured to practise similar frauds with one of the most conspicuous men of letters of the time, Horace Walpole ; and for a while he actually succeeded in convincing the former champion of Ossian of his own merit ; but Gray in good time warned his friend Walpole against the youthful rival of Macpherson. Inde irae !

Frustrated in ail his efforts, the disappointed poet soon found his native town a very poor market for his spurious wares, and an unlikely place for the realization of his hopes. There was every reason for this dissatisfaction ; first of ail, his wretched circumstances and unhappy surroundings did not improve matters ; nay, he was even shamefully thrashed by his brutal employer, who kept on repeating that ' his sullen temper was unbearable for the servants.' Moreover, his scathing satires brought down on him a good deal of personal hatred ; so that one night he was roughly handled on a bridge by some one who threatened * to spoil his writing arm,' Lastly, he had adopted towards the fair sex a rather dashing, lady-killing attitude which was not without untoward conséquences to his self-

love. But the prévalent cause of unrest was no doubt his uncontrollable ambition. * His ambition increased daily,' says his sister ; * his spirits were rather uneven, sometimes wildly mirthful, sometimes so gloomy that for many days together he would hardly utter a word, and that by constraint ; confident of advancement, he would promise my mother and I should be partakers of his success.' In fits of despondency, he repeatedly yielded to haunting ideas of suicide ; once, after some friendly lecture on this topic, he plainly confessed : * It |1 is my Pride, my damn'd, native, unconquerable Pride, that plunges me in Distraction. You must know that nineteentwentieths of my composition is Pride. I must either live a slave, a servant ; to hâve no Will of my own ; — or die* One morning the blunt attorney found on his apprentice's desk a most bewildering document : it was a half-burlesque, half-earnest testament, in Villon's style, avowedly dashed * in the utmost distress of mind.' Forthwith Chatterton was allowed to hâve his own way, and he was not long in choosing a new calling.

* Farewell,' he said, . . . ' Lovers of Mammon . . . Ye spurned the boy who gave you antique lays, And paid for learning with your empty praise.'

A few days later (April 25, 1770), the would-be great genius was alighting from his provincial coach in the metropolis, whither his restless spirit had urged him to go. Though living at first in one of his poor relatives' most humble lodgings, he was nevertheless * in high spirits.' He had already sent from Bristol ail sorts of contributions, both poHtical and poetical, to varions London papers and magazines. Fortune seemed at first, indeed, to smile on him, for he was arriving at a period of time very favourable to the * patriotic ' party whose cause he had espoused : he was even introduced to some of the most popular leaders of the opposition against the Court party, amongst whom the démagogue Wilkes, and the Lord Mayor Beckford ; they wondered how such a dapper little fellow could pen such smart articles. 'What a glorious prospect,' exclaims our hopeful politician ; * Bristol's mercenary walls were never destined to hold me : there, I was out of my élément; now, I am in it ... I hâve a universal acquaintance ; my company is courted everywhere ... I must be among the great ; State matters suit me better than commercial; . . . the ladies are not out of my acquaintance . . . Bravo, hey boys, up we go ! ' Unfortunately, the popular party happened to be abruptly crushed by