Bernard Barton
Bernard Barton, born in Carlisle, England, in 1784, is often referred to as the "Quaker Poet," reflecting his deep-rooted Quaker upbringing and values. His early life was marked by personal losses, including the death of his mother shortly after his birth and later, his first wife, Lucy Jessup. Barton transitioned through various professions, working as an apprentice, a private tutor, and finally as a bank clerk, which he held for most of his life. Despite the challenges he faced, he pursued poetry and published several works, including "A Convict's Appeal" and "Poems" in 1818, although he did not receive widespread critical acclaim.
Known for his literary connections, Barton maintained friendships with notable figures such as Robert Southey and Charles Lamb, who offered him counsel regarding his writing ambitions. His poetry is often viewed with a degree of ambivalence; while some of his hymns hold significance, his overall body of work has not been favorably remembered. Despite this, Barton aimed to provide comfort and inspiration through his writing, reflecting a sincere desire to connect with a broad audience. Today, he is acknowledged not only for his poetry but also for his role within the literary community of his time.
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Bernard Barton
Nonfiction Writer and Poet
- Born: January 31, 1784
- Birthplace: Carlisle, England
- Died: February 19, 1849
- Place of death: Woodbridge, Suffolk, England
Biography
Bernard Barton, born in Carlisle, England, in 1784, has traditionally been known as the “Quaker Poet.” His parents, John and Mary, were “Friends,” and John was involved in a Quaker drive to abolish slavery. When Mary died shortly after Bernard’s birth, John married another Quaker of substantial means, Elizabeth Horne. When John died in 1798, Elizabeth moved the young family, Bernard, his two elder sisters, Elizabeth and Maria, and his baby half-brother John to her father’s large estate just north of London.
Barton’s formal education ended early. Sent as a boy to a Quaker school at Ipswich, he became a shopkeeper’s apprentice at fourteen. In 1806, he moved to Woodbridge to work for his employer’s brother and in 1807 married Lucy Jessup, his new employer’s daughter. Lucy died after giving birth to a daughter, also named Lucy.
His wife’s death instigated a career crisis for Barton, who left the coal and corn business at Woodbridge to become a private tutor. He returned in 1909 to become a bank clerk, a position he held for the remainder of his life. But poetry beckoned: he often considered leaving the bank to pursue literature, having enjoyed the publication—if not the overwhelming critical praise—of a few volumes, including A Convict’s Appeal (1818), a protest against capital punishment, and Poems (1818).
Barton is principally remembered for his literary friendships. He corresponded with Robert Southey and James Hogg. Edward FitzGerald, whose brief, unconsummated marriage to Barton’s daughter conjures comic images—Lucy was known as “Step-a- Yard” because of her mannish walk; FitzGerald, a homosexual, exclaimed, at the sight of his marriage breakfast, blancmange, “Ugh! Congealed bridesmaid!”—wrote a remembrance that appeared in a posthumous volume of Barton’s poetry. Charles Lamb kindly cautioned against haste during one of Barton’s periodic contemplations of quitting the bank: “Keep to your bank, and the Bank will keep you…. Sit down, good B.B., in the Banking Office.” Lamb echoes Lord Byron’s advice to Barton a decade earlier: “Do not renounce writing, but never trust entirely to Authorship. If you have a profession, retain it.…”
By all accounts, Barton was a fine human being, but his poetry has generally not been remembered fondly. The Cambridge History of English and American Literature (1907- 1921) offers this synopsis: “Some verse-writers of… at one time or another… wider appeal, may now be mentioned, though they need not occupy us long. The Quaker poet Bernard Barton has so many pleasant and certainly lasting literary associations… that it would be a pity if anyone… ran the risk of vexation by reading his verse.… Some of his hymns are among his least insignificant work.” In fairness, Barton never counted himself among the great poets, and he might now even be considered a success to the extent that he sincerely wished to write verse from which a fairly wide contemporary readership might find comfort and inspiration.