FAME AT HAWORTH.
Charlotte Corresponds on Literary Subjects--Novels--Confession of
Authorship--Branwell's Failing Health--He Writes to Leyland--Branwell
and Mr. George Searle Phillips--Branwell's Intellect Retains its
Power--His Description of 'Professor Leonidas Lyon'--The latter
Gentleman's Account of his Reading of 'Jane Eyre'--Branwell's Remarks
on Charlotte and the Work.
The early months of the year 1848 proved a severe trial for the Bronte
family, as they did to the whole of the Haworth villagers. Influenza
and other ailments were prevalent, and the sisters did not escape the
former: Anne, indeed, suffered from a severe cough, with some fever,
and her friends became alarmed. The position of the parsonage in
relation to the churchyard rendered it unhealthy; but, at the instance
of Mr. Bronte, a new grave-yard was opened in another place. He did
not, however, succeed in his attempt to get a good supply of water
laid on to each house.
Charlotte, at the time, was still in correspondence with Mr. Lewes and
Mr. Williams, about the review of 'Jane Eyre' in 'Fraser's Magazine,'
and about other literary subjects. She was still keeping the secret of
the authorship of her book from her friends, putting off 'E.' with
evasive letters, and wishing her to 'laugh or scold A---- out of the
publishing notion.' 'Wuthering Heights' had not been received by the
public with much favour, and we do not hear of any further literary
work by Emily. But Charlotte was writing 'Shirley,' and Anne was going
on with 'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall,' despite a consumptive
listlessness that was upon her, such as Branwell describes in the wife
of 'Percy;' and, in her letter written in January, Anne told 'E.' that
they had done nothing 'to speak of' since she was at Haworth; yet they
contrived to be busy from morning till night. In the spring, however,
when this friend visited the Brontes again, full confession of
authorship was made, and the poems and novels were shown to her. The
identity of Mr. Bronte's daughters with the 'Messrs. Bell,' had,
however, been known to some, in connection with the poems, at an
earlier date, and was occasionally spoken of, though the fact was not
made public. Branwell himself was at home, quieter, but still failing
in health and strength, for the constitutional taint, aided by his low
spirits, and a bronchitis which had become chronic, was telling upon
him.
'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall,' was submitted to the publisher of
'Wuthering Heights' and 'Agnes Grey,' and accepted by him in the June
of this year. If the first works of Ellis and Acton Bell were
undervalued because they were believed to be the earlier productions
of the author of 'Jane Eyre,' Acton's new volume derived enhanced
importance from being thought to be a production of the same hand.
'Jane Eyre' had had a great run in America, and a publisher there had
offered Messrs. Smith and Elder a high price for early sheets of the
next work of its author, which they accepted. But the publishers of
'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall,' believing that Acton Bell was but a
second name assumed by Currer Bell, made a similar offer to another
American house. This circumstance led to questions and explanations;
and Charlotte and Anne determined to visit London, in order to assure
Messrs. Smith and Elder that they were indeed distinct persons. The
publishers were very much astonished to see the two delicate ladies,
and they made them very welcome. Charlotte and Anne went to the Opera,
they went to the Royal Academy and the National Gallery, and they
visited Mr. Smith and Mr. Williams before returning to Haworth.
They found Branwell at home, physically the same as when they left
him, gradually failing from the chronic bronchitis which had lasted
through the summer, and with the perceptible wasting away of decline.
Writing to his friend Leyland on July 22nd, he speaks of 'five months
of utter sleeplessness, violent cough, and frightful agony of mind.'
'Long have I resolved,' he continues, 'to write to you a letter of
five or six pages, but intolerable mental wretchedness and corporeal
weakness have utterly prevented me.' The letter is signed, 'Yours
sincerely, but nearly worn out, P. B. Bronte.' Charlotte attributed
his illness to indulgence solely, and she had no suspicion that the
end was but two months away. She writes on July 28th: 'Branwell is the
same in conduct as ever. His constitution seems much shattered. Papa,
and sometimes all of us, have sad nights with him. He sleeps most of
the day, and consequently will lie awake at night. But has not every
house its trial?'[46] But Branwell's condition of health was not such
as to keep him within doors, and there were revivals, as in Anne's
case also, which permitted him to visit his friends. I spoke to him
once in Halifax at the time, and he was often seen in the village of
Haworth.
[46] Gaskell's 'Life of Charlotte Bronte,' chap. xvi.
An interesting episode occurred in August or September, for an account
of which we are indebted to Mr. George Searle Phillips.[47] We learn
from it that, in the midst of physical decay and mental distress,
Branwell's intellect retained its power to the last; and we learn also
what pride he took in the works of his sisters, and in the reputation
they had made. I can myself, from personal knowledge, endorse all that
Mr. Phillips says as to Branwell's brilliancy of intellect at this
time. When Charlotte and Anne went to London, they had assumed the
name of Brown; but their real name and the place of their residence
were communicated to some people, and it was not long before it became
quietly known. Then began the stream of pilgrims to the shrine of
genius at Haworth, which has continued from that day to this, and will
for many more. One gentleman, indeed, at the time, stayed three days
at Haworth, maintaining a close intimacy with Branwell, and we know,
from Mr. Phillips' narrative, in what light Branwell looked upon the
first-comers.
[47] 'Branwell Bronte,' _The Mirror, a reflex of the World's
Literature_, 1872.
'Branwell,' says his friend, 'during the latter part of my
acquaintance with him, was much altered for the worse, in his personal
appearance; but if he had altered in the same direction mentally, as
his biographer says he had, then he must have been a man of immense
and brilliant intellect. For I have rarely heard more eloquent and
thoughtful discourse, flashing so brightly with random jewels of wit,
and made more sunny and musical with poetry, than that which flowed
from his lips during the evenings I passed with him at the "Black
Bull," in the village of Haworth. His figure was very slight, and he
had, like his sister Charlotte, a superb forehead. But, even when
pretty deep in his cups, he had not the slightest appearance of the
sot that Mrs. Gaskell says he was. "His great tawny mane"--meaning
thereby the hair of his head--was, it is true, somewhat dishevelled;
but, apart from this, he gave no sign of intoxication. His eye was as
bright, and his features were as animated, as they very well could be;
and, moreover, his whole manner gave indications of intense
enjoyment.'
Branwell described some of the characters in the novels, and talked
much about his sisters, and especially about Charlotte, whose
celebrity, he said, had already attracted more strangers to the
village than had been known before; and Mr. Phillips gives the
following account of the visit of one gentleman, an enthusiastic
admirer of 'Jane Eyre,' whose somewhat eccentric personality he has
veiled under the style and title of 'Leonidas Lyon, Professor of Greek
in the London University':--
'One evening, as we sat together in the little parlour of the Inn, the
landlord entered, and asked Branwell if he would see a gentleman who
wanted to make his acquaintance.
'"He's a funny fellow," said the landlord; "and is somebody, I dare
swear, with lots of money."
'As the landlord spoke, a squat little dapper fellow, with a white
fur hat on his head, an umbrella under his arm, and a pair of blue
spectacles on his nose, strutted into the room _sans ceremonie_. He
approached the table in a very fussy and excited manner, exclaiming:
'"Landlord, bring us some brandy. I must have the pleasure of drinking
a glass with the brother of that distinguished lady, who wrote the
great book that made London blaze. Three glasses,--landlord--do you
hear? And you, sir, are the great lady's brother, I presume? Professor
Leonidas Lyon, sir, has the honour of introducing himself to your
distinguished notice."
'Branwell responded, gravely:
'"Patrick Branwell Bronte, sir, has the honour of welcoming you to
Haworth, and begging you to be seated."
'Whereupon the little man bowed and scraped, and laughed a
good-humoured laugh all over his good, round face, and said it was an
honour he could not have hoped for, to sit as a guest at the same
board, as he might say, "with the brother, the very flesh and blood,
of the great lady who wrote the book."
'Here the brandy and water came in, and the little man grew merrier
still, and more communicative. He was a Professor of Greek at the
London University, and, chancing to be at Smith's, the London
publisher's, whose friend Williams was a "wonderful man of letters--a
very wonderful man indeed!"--Williams asked the Professor if he had
seen the book of the season--"the immense book," he called it--which
was going to make one good reputation, and half a dozen fortunes. Mr.
Williams praised it so highly that he (the Professor) grew wild about
it, and asked where it could be got. Upon this, he threw a sovereign
to pay for it, and ran home without his change, to read it. "It was
prodigious, sir," he exclaimed.'
The Professor went on in high praise of 'Jane Eyre,' and told Branwell
and Mr. Phillips that his bed-time was ten o'clock, but that, when
reading the book, he had sat on, completely absorbed, until six
o'clock in the morning, when the housemaid came. Then he had retired
to his own room, but, instead of going to bed, had sat on the edge of
it, until he finished the story at ten A.M. Branwell said this history
of a Professor's reading of 'Jane Eyre' made him laugh 'as if he would
split his sides.' And when he told Charlotte about it the next day,
she laughed heartily, too, as did the other sisters, when she went up
stairs to tell them, and their laughter moved Branwell to renewed
merriment.
'When the Professor's story was ended,' continues Mr. Phillips, 'he
tried to cajole Branwell into introducing him to the "great lady" who
wrote the book. He was dying to see her, he said, and had come all the
way down into Yorkshire, from London, in the fond hope of getting a
glimpse of her, and perhaps of touching the hem of her garment. When
he found that Branwell fought shy of the proposition he actually
offered him a large sum of money, and then, taking from his fob a
valuable gold watch, laid it on the table, and said he would throw
that in to boot, if he would only let him see her and shake hands with
her....
'Poor Branwell spoke of his sister in most affectionate terms, such as
none but a man of deep feeling could utter. He knew her power, and
what tremendous depths of passion and pathos lay hid in her great
surging heart, long before she gave expression to them in "Jane Eyre."
When she wrote the first chapters of her Richardsonian novel, he
condemned the work as in opposition to her genius--which is good proof
of his discrimination and critical judgment. But when "The Professor"
was written, he said that was better, but that she could do better
still; and, although it is not equal to "Jane Eyre," yet it is a work
of great originality and dramatic interest.
'"I know," said Branwell, after speaking of Charlotte's talents, "that
I also had stuff enough in me to make popular stories; but the failure
of the Academy plan ruined me. I was felled, like a tree in the
forest, by a sudden and strong wind, to rise no more. Fancy me, with
my education, and those early dreams, which had almost ripened into
realities, turning counter-jumper, or a clerk in a railway-office,
which last was, you know, my occupation for some time. It simply
degraded me in my own eyes, and broke my heart."
'It was useless,' says Mr. Phillips, 'to remonstrate with him, and yet
I could not help it, and did my best to rouse the sleeping energies
within him to noble action once more.
'"It is too late," he said; "and you would say so, too, if you knew
all." He used to be the oracle of the secluded household in earlier
days--before the love of drink mastered him. His opinion was
invariably sought for upon the literary performances of his sisters;
but at the time I am now speaking of, he was a cipher in the house.'
Such is the account given by Mr. Phillips of his friend; so different
in its character from that which Mr. Grundy, and, following him, Miss
Robinson, offer, in the incredible episode of the carving-knife and
the slaying of the devil, unless we believe the incident--which that
gentleman states to have taken place at this period, how erroneously
we have seen--to have been acted, as is most probable, in grotesque
humour.
During the last two months of his life, Branwell became the object of
much interest and received some homage; for, his sisters living
secluded lives, he was generally the only member of the family
accessible to the public. When he met with strangers, he invariably
comported himself with becoming dignity, and did not lay himself open
to the effects of their curiosity. Those who made his acquaintance
were impressed, as Mr. Phillips was, with his great mental calibre,
and with the grace and wit of his conversation. One gentleman--himself
at the present time in the first place in one of the professions--who
knew Branwell intimately, declares to me that he always believed the
abilities of Charlotte's brother were such as might have placed him in
the very front rank of literature.