Chauncy Hare Townshend

Chauncy Hare Townshend, whose surname was spelt by his parents as Townsend (20 April 1798, Godalming, Surrey – 25 February 1868), was a 19th-century English poet, clergyman, mesmerist, collector, dilettante and hypochondriac.

There is a vivid lightning of the breast,Flash'd from a kindred spark of poesy.Which Poets only know, when rapt they seeSome hidden thought — some feeling unexprestUpon the pages of the Bard imprestIn all the warmth of Nature's energy.Oh, Clare!

His romantic scheme had been to seek Clare in his home, which he thought easy with the picture in his pocket; and having stepped over the flower-clad porch, to rush inside, with tenderly-dignified air, and drop into the arms of the brother poet.

The individual whom he addressed was a short, thick-set man, and, as Mr. Hare Townsend thought, decidedly ferocious-looking; he was bespattered with mud all over, and a thick knotted stick, which he carried in his hands, gave him something of the air of a highwayman.

To the intense surprise of Mr. Chauncey Hare Townsend, this very vulgar person, when addressed, declared that he himself was John Clare, and offered to show the way to his house.

Of course, the gentleman from London was too shrewd to be taken in by such a palpable device for being robbed; so declining the offer with thanks, and recovering from his fright by inhaling the perfume of his pocket handkerchief, he retreated on his path, seeking refuge in the 'Blue Bell' public house.

Mr. Townsend, now fairly prepared to fall into the arms of the brother poet, though not liking the look of his residence, cautiously opened the door; but started back immediately on beholding the highwayman in the middle of the room, sipping a basin of broth.

Townshend married Eliza Frances Norcott in 1826, but in 1843 they legally separated due to "un-happy differences", and he spent much of his life thereafter travelling abroad, collecting things as he went, and at his villa in Lausanne.

[9] This includes part of a Sèvres porcelain breakfast service thought to have been captured from Napoleon's baggage after the Battle of Waterloo, and the manuscript of Great Expectations.

MD, on this 13th day of September 1876.His will also appointed Charles Dickens as his literary executor I appoint my friend Charles Dickens, of Gad's Hill Place, in the County of Kent, Esquire, my literary executor; and beg of him to publish without alteration as much of my notes and reflections as may make known my opinions on religious matters, they being such as I verily believe would be conducive to the happiness of mankind.