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#1 Letter addressed from 'Haworth'; with pen and ink sketch entitled "Bendigo 'taking a sight.' Alas! Poor Caunt!'"
#2 Letter addressed from 'Haworth'; with pen and ink sketch entitled "Bendigo 'taking a sight.' Alas! Poor Caunt!'"
#3 Letter addressed from 'Haworth'; with pen and ink sketch entitled "Bendigo 'taking a sight.' Alas! Poor Caunt!'"
#4 Letter addressed from 'Haworth'; with pen and ink sketch entitled "Bendigo 'taking a sight.' Alas! Poor Caunt!'"
© University of Leeds

Letter from Branwell Brontë to Joseph Bentley Leyland, 10 September 1845 (BC MS 19c Brontë/02/01/08)

Note: 102 deleted text

Later annotations in pencil in unknown hand in the top right corner. ‘33’

Haworth
Sept 10th

Later annotations in pencil in unknown hand underneath the heading. ‘1845’

My Dear Sir,

I was certainly sadly disappointed at not
having seen you on the Friday you named for your visit,
but the cause you allege for not arriving was justifiable
with a vengeance - I should have been as cracked as
my cast had I entered a room and seen the labours of
weeks or months destroyed (apparently - not, I trust, really) in
a moment.

That vexation is I hope over and I build upon
your renewed promise of a visit; for nothing cheers
me so much as the company of one whom I believe
to be a MAN, and who has known care so far as well enough to be
able to pity appreciate the discomfort of another, who knows
it too well .

Never mind the lines I put into your hands, but come
hither with them, and if they shall have been lost out of your
pocket on the way, I {wont} grumble, provided you are present
to apologise for the accident.

I have, since I saw you at Halifax, devoted my
hours of time snatched from downright illness, to the composition
of a three volume Novel - one volume of which
has is completed - and along with the two forthcoming ones, has
been really the work result of half a dozen by past years of thoughts
about, and experiences in, this crooked path of life.

I felt that I must rouse myself to attempt some

Later annotations in pencil in unknown hand in the lower left corner. ‘20’

Note: 103

-thing while labouring under roasting daily and nightly
over a slow fire - to {wile} away my torment and I know
that in the present state of the publishing and reading
world a Novel is the most saleable article so that
where ten pounds would be offered for the a work the productions
of which would require the utmost stretch of a man's
intellect - two hundred pounds would be a refused offer for
three volumes whose composition would require the smoking of
a cigar and the humming of a tune.

My Novel is the result of years of thought and if it gives
a vivid picture of human feelings for good and evil - veiled
by the cloak of deceit which must enwrap man and woman
- If it records as faithfully as the pages that unveil mans
heart in Hamlet or Lear deleted text the conflicting feelings
and clashing pursuits in our uncertain paths through
life I shall be as much gratified (and as much astonished)
as I should be if in betting that I could jump over
as I should be if in betting that I could jump over
the Mersey I jumped over the Irish sea. It would not
be more pleasant to light on Dublin instead of Birkenhead
than to leap from the present bathos of fictitious literature
onto the firmly fixed rock honoured by the fact of a
Smollet or {Feilding} .

That jump I expect to take when I can model
a rival to your noble Theseus who haunted my dreams when
I slept after seeing him - but meanwhile I can try my
utmost to rouse from almost killing cares, and that alone
will be its own reward.

Note: 104

Tell me when I may hope to see you and believe
me, dear Sir,
Yours,
P.B.Bronte.

A sketch showing two male figures kneeling on the ground. One man is in chains whilst the other raises his hands to the sky.
Figure 1. Bendigo 'taking a sight'. "Alas! Poor Caunt!"


able to pay [...]
it too well .

Never mind the lines I put into your hands; but come
hither with them, and if they shall have been lost out of your
pocket on the way, I {wont} grumble, provided you are present
to apologise for the accident.

I have, since I saw you at Halifax, devoted my
hours of time snatched from downright illness, to the compositions
of a three volume Novel - one volume of which
has is completed - and along with the two forthcoming ones, has
been really the work result of half a dozen by past years of thoughts
about, and experiences in, this crooked path of life.
I felt that I must rouse myself to attempt some-

Later annotations in pencil in unknown hand in the lower left corner. ‘20’

life I shall be as much [...]
as I should be if in betting that I could jump over
the Mersey I jumped over the Irish sea. It would not
be more pleasant to light on Dublin instead of Birkenhead
than to leap from the present bothers of fictitious literature
onto the firmly fixed rock honoured by the fact of a
Smollet or {Feilding} .

That jump I expect to take when I can model
a rival to your noble Theseus who haunted my dreams when
I slept after seeing him - but meanwhile I can try my
utmost to rouse from almost killing cares, and that alone
will be its own reward.