CHARLOTTE'S LAST YEAR AT BRUSSELS
1842-43
What were Charlotte Brontë's real relationships with Monsieur and Madame
Heger when, in January 1844, she bade them, what was to prove, a final
farewell? This is what has to be understood before we can read with a
full sense of their true meaning the tragical impassioned Letters to M.
Heger, written within the first two years of Charlotte's return to
England, Letters that not only place the authoress of _Jane Eyre_ and
_Villette_ (as a devotee, and an exponent of Romantic love) on a 'higher
pedestal than ever,' but that, also, explain at what cost of personal
anguish she attained as a writer her extraordinary power of translating
emotions into words, that, by the impression they produce retranslate
themselves to her readers' imagination and sensibilities as feelings.
We have always to remember that the relationships between Charlotte and
her former Professor were not those that existed between Lucy Snowe and
her 'Master.' Paul Emanuel was unmarried, and in love with Lucy,
although Madame Beck and the Jesuit, Père Silas,--and in the end
Destiny--prevented the love-story from reaching a happy ending.
Nor were these relationships, as the facts of the case reveal them,
those imagined by Mr. Clement Shorter; where '_it was no cause of grief
to Charlotte that M. Heger was married_,' because her enthusiasm for him
was that of simple hero-worship for a great man. Nor yet were these
relationships, when she left Bruxelles in 1844 (nor had they been for
some ten months before that date), the same relationships (of trustful
friendship on the one hand and sympathetic interest on the other) that
had existed between Charlotte and the Director and Directress of the
Pensionnat in the Rue d'Isabelle when, a year earlier (in January 1843),
Charlotte had returned to Bruxelles alone, _in response to Madame's as
well as Monsieur's invitation_, to perfect her own French, and to
receive a small salary as English Mistress. These first relationships
had continued untroubled for the first few months after Charlotte's
return. Thus, in March 1843, writing to her friend Ellen Nussey, she
qualifies her complaints of loneliness in the Pensionnat (without the
companionship she had enjoyed the previous year of her dearly loved
sister Emily) by reference to the kindness of Madame, as well as of
Monsieur Heger.
'As I told you before,' she writes, 'M. and Madame Heger are the only
two persons in the house for whom I really experience regard and esteem;
and of course I cannot be always with them, nor even very often. They
told me, when I first returned, that I was to consider their
sitting-room my sitting-room, and to go there whenever I was not engaged
in the schoolroom. This, however, I cannot do. In the daytime it is a
public room, where music-masters and mistresses are constantly passing
in and out; and in the evening I will not, and ought not, to intrude on
M. and Madame Heger and their children. Thus I am a good deal by
myself; but that does not signify. I now regularly give English lessons
to M. Heger and his brother-in-law. They get on with wonderful rapidity,
especially the first.[1]
So that, up to this date, no cloud is visible. But by May 29 there is a
cloud above the horizon. It is no bigger than 'a man's hand' as yet: but
it is charged with electricity, and one knows the storm is gathering.
This time Charlotte is writing to Emily, _who never liked M. Heger for
her part_. 'Things wag on much as usual here, only Mlle. Blanche and
Mlle. Haussé are at present on a system of war without quarter. They
hate each other like two cats. Mlle. Blanche frightens Mlle. Haussé by
her white passions, for they quarrel venomously; Mlle. Haussé complains
that when Mlle. Blanche is in a fury "_elle n'a pas de lèvres_." I find
also that Mlle. Sophie dislikes Mlle. Blanche extremely. She says she is
heartless, insincere and vindictive, which epithets, I assure you, are
richly deserved. _Also I find she is the regular spy of Madame Heger,
to whom she reports everything. Also she invents, which I should not
have thought_. I am [not] richly off for companionship in these parts.
_Of late days, M. and Madame Heger rarely speak to me; and I really
don't pretend to care a fig for anybody else in the establishment_. You
are not to suppose by that expression that I am under the influence of
_warm_ affection for Madame Heger. _I am convinced she does not like me:
why, I can't tell_. (O Charlotte!) _Nor do I think she herself has any
definite reason for this aversion_.(!) But for one thing, she cannot
understand why I do not make intimate friends of Mesdames Blanche,
Sophie and Haussé. M. Heger is wondrously influenced by Madame: and I
should not wonder if he disapproves very much of my unamiable want of
sociability. He has already given me a brief lecture on universal
_bienveillance_; and perceiving that I don't improve in consequence, I
fancy he has taken to considering me as a person to be let alone, left
to the error of her ways, and consequently he has, in a great measure,
withdrawn the light of his countenance; and I get on from day to day,
in a Robinson Crusoe like condition, very lonely. That does not signify;
in other respects I have nothing substantial to complain of, nor is even
this a cause of complaint. _Except for the loss of M. Heger's goodwill
(if I have lost it,) I care for none of 'em_.'[2]
Let us see what this letter, written eight months before Charlotte left
Bruxelles, tells us about the altered facts of the relationships between
herself and the Directress and Director of the School. First, it is no
longer Monsieur and Madame Heger who are the only people Charlotte cares
about in the establishment, _but it is only the goodwill of M. Heger
that she would grieve to lose_. And Madame Heger, who so kindly invited
her to consider the family sitting-room hers, now takes no notice of
her, and, Charlotte knows it, has taken an aversion to her. And when M.
Heger says, 'Don't you think, "Mees Charlotte," who is lonely without
her sister Emily, should be taken more notice of?' Madame Heger replies
coldly: '_If "Mees" is lonely, it is her own fault. Why does she not
make friends with her compeers, Mesdemoiselles Blanche, Sophie and
Haussé?_ They are of her rank; they follow the same profession; no, this
young Englishwoman is full of the pride and narrowness of her race! She
is without _bienveillance_: she esteems herself better than others, she
makes her own unhappiness; _and it is not for her good to single her out
amongst the other excellent under-mistresses as we have done_. Let her
make herself friends amongst them: _let her learn to be amiable_.' And
M. Heger, who thinks there is something true in this, because his
unalterable opinion is that it belongs to the English character, and to
the Protestant creed, to be proud, narrow, unamiable and without
benevolence, lectures Charlotte in this sense. Here are the facts of the
situation in May 1843.
Now what has happened in these few months to so change the relationships
between Charlotte and Madame Heger, and to render Monsieur Heger--_under
Madame's influence_--less friendly and helpful than he had formerly
been, in his efforts to encourage the studies, and brighten by gifts of
books, and talks about them, the solitude of the English teacher? It is
not very difficult to discover the cause of the change, if only critics
with psychological insight would employ this quality, not to fabricate
problems out of false impressions, but to penetrate the true
significance of the evidence that lies open to one, of the actual
circumstances and facts.
The circumstance that explains the fact of Madame Heger's altered
conduct and feeling towards the English under-mistress whom only a few
months earlier she had invited to use her own sitting-room, and to
regard herself as a member of the family, and whom _now_ she scarcely
speaks to, and thinks should find companions with the other
under-mistresses, is a discovery that Madame probably made, before even
Charlotte herself had fully recognised what had happened. This discovery
is that a change has taken place in Charlotte's sentiment towards her
'Master in literature'; a sentiment that at first had not transgressed
the limits of a cordial and affectionate appreciation of his kindness
and of his talent and charm and power as a teacher--approved of by
Madame Heger as a becoming sentiment in this young person, convenient,
'convenable.' But as Charlotte's exclusive pleasure in M. Heger's
society and conversation increases, with her distaste for the society
and conversation of every one else with whom she is now in daily
contact, and as the charm of his original personality grows, with her
sense of the natural disparity between herself and the self-controlled
Directress, whose rule of life is respect for what is _convenient,_ in
the French sense of _la convenance_ (_i.e._ what is _becoming_) and of
revolt against the vulgarity and profligacy she finds as the
distinguishing characteristics of her fellow-governesses, this sentiment
becomes transformed (insensibly and fatally, without her knowledge or
will) into a passionate personal devotion--in other words, into a
sentiment that does transgress very seriously indeed the limits of the
sort of feeling that Madame Heger, in her double character of directress
of a highly esteemed Pensionnat de Demoiselles, and of the wife of
Monsieur Heger--esteems 'convenient,' in the case of an under-mistress
in her establishment. It was not a question of ordinary jealousy at all.
Madame Heger, a much more attractive woman than Charlotte Brontë in so
far as her personal appearance was concerned, was absolutely convinced
of the affection and fidelity of her husband, and of the entirely and
exclusively professorial interest he took in assisting this clever and
zealous and meritorious daughter of an evangelical Pastor, to qualify
herself for a schoolmistress in her own country. It was entirely a
question of the '_inconvenience_'--the unbecoming character of this
unfortunate infatuation, that renders it entirely intolerable; something
that must be got rid of at once; but as quietly as possible, without
exciting remark, and with as much consideration for this imprudent,
unhappy 'Mees Charlotte' as possible. The whole affair is a misfortune,
of course, 'un malheur': but what one has to do, now it _has_ arrived,
is to guard against even greater 'malheurs' for everybody concerned. For
'Mees Charlotte' herself, first of all--what a 'malheur' should this
'infatuation,' involuntary and blameless in intention, no doubt, but so
utterly inconvenient, betray itself in some regrettable exhibition of
feeling, most humiliating to herself, and most distressing to her only
parent, the respectable widowed evangelical Pastor in Yorkshire! And
then for the Pensionnat, what a 'malheur' should any gossip arise: and
what sort of an effect would it produce upon the mind of parents of
pupils, who most naturally would object to the knowledge of the
existence even of a sentiment so inconvenient as this being brought to
the knowledge of their young daughters? And confronted with these
perils, Madame Heger's conclusion upon the only way of avoiding them, is
really not a very unreasonable nor unkind one. It is that the sooner
'Mees Brontë' returns to her home in Yorkshire, the better for herself,
and for the interests and the tranquillity of the Director and the
Directress of the Pensionnat in the Rue d'Isabelle: who wish to sever
their relationships with her on friendly terms; who, in the future,
when she has cured herself of this unhappy extravagance (as no doubt her
good sense and excellent upbringing will assist her to do) hope to renew
their intercourse with her; but who, in the circumstances that have
arisen, think it better all intimacy should be suspended.
Nor, having formed this conclusion, was Madame Heger's method of
endeavouring to force Charlotte to adopt it also, either wilfully unkind
or inconsiderate. Her method was to convey forcibly to Charlotte's
knowledge _without any needless humiliating explanations_, that she, the
Directress of the Pensionnat where Charlotte was under-mistress, has
penetrated the secret of her feelings towards M. Heger, and consequently
that the old terms between herself and Charlotte have become impossible,
and that the necessity has arisen to assert her claims and to establish
the rules that must be observed in the ordering of the Pensionnat and of
the staff of teachers for which she is responsible. Without discussions
or recriminations in connection with the reasons for this decision,
these mere reasons, well known to Miss Brontë herself, convince her
that it is not convenient 'Mees' should continue a teacher, or even an
inmate, in her school any more; and surely this circumstance alone
should point out to 'Mees' herself, what she ought to do? Let her do
this, let her take the opportunity offered her of relieving Madame Heger
of the painful necessity of touching upon distressing subjects, and the
secret they share shall never be made known to any one, _not even to M.
Heger himself_, who is entirely unconscious of it. An explanation could
easily be found by 'Mees' for the necessity of her return to
England:--her aged father's infirmities, the establishment of the school
that she is now qualified to manage, etc.--and all this matter will
arrange itself quietly. _To bring Charlotte to dismiss herself_ was
Madame Heger's purpose: but in view of the slowness and reluctance of
this obstinate Englishwoman to recognise what was 'becoming,' and
expected from her, the immediate object became to guard against any
self-betrayal by Charlotte of her state of feeling to other members of
the establishment, _and especially to M. Heger,_ whom Madame knew to be
entirely innocent of any warm feeling resembling romantic sentiment for
the homely but intelligent and zealous Englishwoman, whose progress
under his instruction and capacity for appreciating good literature made
her interesting to him as a pupil, whilst her meritorious courage in
working to qualify herself to earn her own bread as an instructress
herself claimed his approval--but whom he had not as yet suspected of a
tragical passion for him. _And Madame Heger esteemed it most undesirable
he should ever make the discovery._ And _therefore_ her immediate care
was to guard against the occasion of such a revelation being given: and
_therefore_ she endeavours to stop private lessons given by M. Heger to
Charlotte, or English lessons given by her in return; _therefore_ too,
she works to prevent any intercourse or meetings between the Professor
and this particular pupil, outside of the presence of spectators and
listeners, whose unsympathetic but attentive eyes and ears will impose
restraint upon this extravagant Charlotte; so little under the control
of good sense and respect for what is becoming.
But now these tactics followed by Madame Heger, although from her own
point of view they were as considerate and judicious as the interests of
Charlotte, the Pensionnat, and 'convenience' permitted, and although no
personal jealousy, vindictiveness nor malice entered into them,
nevertheless _from Charlotte's point of view_ were intolerable and
cruel; and the torments they inflicted upon her during the long seven
months she lived through this incessant conflict with Madame Heger,
under cover of an outer show of politeness on both sides, were precisely
the same torments of cheated expectancy, suspense, thwarted hope,
disappointments, that she has painted in _Villette_, and the
_Professor_, as inflicted upon the hapless governesses Lucy Snowe and
Frances Henri, by those two cruel, pitiless head-mistresses Madame Beck
and Mlle. Zoraïde Reuter. Yes:--but there was all the difference in the
world between the circumstances arranged by the authoress in her two
novels, and the circumstances as a mischievous destiny had entangled
them in the true history.
In the stories made to please her fancy by Charlotte, we have in
_Villette_ Paul Emanuel unmarried--and in love with Lucy Snowe; but by
the base contrivances of Madame Beck, a Jesuit priest, Père Silas, has
been called in, to stir up superstitious dread of allying himself with a
heretic in the mind of the good Catholic that Paul was, and so prevent
him from carrying through certain tentative indications of the state of
his affections that have awakened and justified the passionate but timid
and self-despising Lucy Snowe. Nothing then can be more plain than the
position here--Paul Emanuel and Lucy Snowe are being divided, and
trouble is being created, by a horrid, jealous, mischievous Madame Beck,
who wants Paul Emanuel to marry her, although she knows he loves Lucy,
and that Lucy is in love with him, but too little self-confident, too
feeble, in her dependent position, to assert her claims. In the
_Professor_ it is much the same case, only Mlle. Zoraïde Reuter is more
of a cat than Madame Beck, and less an evil genius, who demands
admiration for her cleverness whilst Mlle. Zoraïde, who makes coarse
love to the Professor, provokes contempt.
Well but now here is the real case. Madame Heger knows that here is the
English daughter of an Evangelical Pastor, who (although she is old
enough to look after herself), is nevertheless under her (Madame's)
protection, and behold this young woman has taken it into her head to
conceive a most inconvenient infatuation for her husband, M. Heger! Now
how is one to meet this situation in the best way for everybody? Happily
the secret lies between herself and Mees Charlotte: it rests with Mees
to take herself out of harm's way: and all is safe. But that is what she
will not do. So here you have the position: this grown-up, obstinate
Englishwoman, with her 'inconvenient' passion, always on the verge of
exhibiting her sentiments in a way that may inform M. Heger--who is the
best of men; most honourable, but still a man--who may or may not see
how serious this is: who may tell one, 'Let _me_ talk reason to her,'
which is the last course to take! It is true, Madame will have said to
herself, 'I might take matters into my hands; and since she has no sense
of 'convenience' herself, I might say: 'Mees, I exact this of you:
_immediately_ you make up your trunks, and return to Yorkshire; you
start to-morrow.' Yes, but what happens then? There are
observations,--indignation is excited. M. Heger will say to me, 'What
now is this sudden attitude you take up towards Mees? it is not just.'
And if I explain, he may say: 'You imagine things; you women are not
good to each other.' Or he may say: 'Let _me talk to Mees Charlotte_,'
and then there will be _attaques de nerfs_--who can say? No, there is
only one thing to do: as this Englishwoman has not herself any sense of
'convenience.' We must be patient until the end of the year, when her
term is finished. _Then she goes_, arrive what may. And, meanwhile, one
must support it; only she must not meet M. Heger alone: and one must
constantly take precautions, in this sense, against scenes.'
Well, was there anything very cruel, or hard-hearted, or vindictive, in
Madame Heger's conduct? If you are a psychologist, put yourself in her
place. What could she have done with this entanglement of circumstances,
all menacing what she most valued, a watchful preservation of
'convenience,' most necessary in a Pensionnat de _Jeunes Filles_ of high
repute? If any one will suggest a plan that would have been more
considerate to Charlotte than the one she took, I should very much like
to hear what plan? Even then, in the light of what I know of Madame
Heger's incapability of a deliberate desire to torture, or inflict
severe punishment on any pupil, or teacher, or living thing, I should
still protest confidently that in all she did--that sweet and kind old
schoolmistress of mine--in the days when she was twenty years younger
than when I knew her--she _meant_ to be considerate and kind.
Without attempting to decide who, between Charlotte and Madame Heger,
was to blame, or whether either of them were to blame, here, at any
rate, we have the conditions of feeling between these two women: each
exasperated against the other, under the strain of a forced politeness,
during the last seven months of Charlotte's residence in Bruxelles. No
doubt, for both of them the strain was great. All this time (without
saying it out aloud) Madame Heger was forcing upon Charlotte's
attention, the '_inconvenience_' of her presence in the Pensionnat; the
necessity for her return to England. All this time Charlotte--outwardly
compliant with all the demands made upon her, that keep her writing
letters at Madame's dictation (_in the hours when Monsieur is giving his
lessons in class_), that send her upon messages to the other end of
Bruxelles (_upon holidays when Monsieur's habit is to trim the vine
above the Berceau in the garden_)--all this time, Charlotte's bitter
protest spoke out in the gaze she fastened on the Directress: 'Merciless
woman that you are! _you_ who have everything; who are his wife, the
mother of his children, whom he loves; who will enjoy his conversation
and his society, and the pleasant home you share with him, all your
life; and who grudge me--I, who have nothing of all this, but who love
him more--I, who in a few months must go out into the dark world,
without the light his presence is to me; without the music his voice
makes for me; without the delight his conversation is to my mind, and
the complete satisfaction his society brings to my whole nature--and you
grudge me these few months of happiness? Rich and cruel woman, who, in
your selfish life possess all this, you are more cruel than Dives was to
Lazarus; you grudge me even the crumbs that fall from your table.'
[1] _Life of C.B._, p. 254.
[2] _Life_, p. 258.