Transcribed from the 1896 Hodder and Stoughton edition by Les Bowler.
CHARLOTTE BRONTE AND HER CIRCLE
BY CLEMENT K. SHORTER
LONDON
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
27 PATERNOSTER ROW
1896
[Picture: CHARLOTTE BRONTE]
PREFACE
It is claimed for the following book of some five hundred pages that the
larger part of it is an addition of entirely new material to the romantic
story of the Brontes. For this result, but very small credit is due to
me; and my very hearty acknowledgments must be made, in the first place,
to the Rev. Arthur Bell Nicholls, for whose generous surrender of
personal inclination I must ever be grateful. It has been with extreme
unwillingness that Mr. Nicholls has broken the silence of forty years,
and he would not even now have consented to the publication of certain
letters concerning his marriage, had he not been aware that these letters
were already privately printed and in the hands of not less than eight or
ten people. To Miss Ellen Nussey of Gomersall, I have also to render
thanks for having placed the many letters in her possession at my
disposal, and for having furnished a great deal of interesting
information. Without the letters from Charlotte Bronte to Mr. W. S.
Williams, which were kindly lent to me by his son and daughter, Mr. and
Mrs. Thornton Williams, my book would have been the poorer. Sir Wemyss
Reid, Mr. J. J. Stead, of Heckmondwike, Mr. Butler Wood, of Bradford, Mr.
W. W. Yates, of Dewsbury, Mr. Erskine Stuart, Mr. Buxton Forman, and Mr.
Thomas J. Wise are among the many Bronte specialists who have helped me
with advice or with the loan of material. Mr. Wise, in particular, has
lent me many valuable manuscripts. Finally, I have to thank my friend
Dr. Robertson Nicoll for the kindly pressure which has practically
compelled me to prepare this little volume amid a multitude of
journalistic duties.
CLEMENT K. SHORTER.
198 STRAND, LONDON,
_September_ 1_st_, 1896.
CONTENTS
PRELIMINARY
CHAPTER I PATRICK BRONTE AND MARIA HIS WIFE
CHAPTER II CHILDHOOD
CHAPTER III SCHOOL AND GOVERNESS LIFE
CHAPTER IV PENSIONNAT HEGER, BRUSSELS
CHAPTER V PATRICK BRANWELL BRONTE
CHAPTER VI EMILY JANE BRONTE
CHAPTER VII ANNE BRONTE
CHAPTER VIII ELLEN NUSSEY
CHAPTER IX MARY TAYLOR
CHAPTER X MARGARET WOOLER
CHAPTER XI THE CURATES AT HAWORTH
CHAPTER XII CHARLOTTE BRONTE'S LOVERS
CHAPTER XIII LITERARY AMBITIONS
CHAPTER XIV WILLIAM SMITH WILLIAMS
CHAPTER XV WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY
CHAPTER XVI LITERARY FRIENDSHIPS
CHAPTER XVII ARTHUR BELL NICHOLLS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
CHARLOTTE BRONTE Frontispiece
PATRICK BRANWELL BRONTE facing page 120
FACSIMILE OF PAGE OF EMILY BRONTE'S DIARY facing page 146
FACSIMILE OF TWO PAGES OF EMILY BRONTE'S DIARY facing page 154
ANNE BRONTE facing page 182
MISS ELLEN NUSSEY AS A SCHOOLGIRL )
MISS ELLEN NUSSEY TO-DAY ) facing page 207
THE REV. ARTHUR BELL NICHOLLS facing page 467
A BRONTE CHRONOLOGY
_Patrick Bronte born_ 17 _March_ 1777
_Maria Bronte born_ 1783
_Patrick leaves Ireland for Cambridge_ 1802
_Degree of A.B._ 1806
_Curacy at Wetherfield_, _Essex_ 1806
,, _Dewsbury Yorks_ 1809
,, _Hartshead-cum-Clifton_ 1811
_Publishes_ '_Cottage Poems_' (_Halifax_) 1811
_Married to Maria Branwell_ 18 _Dec._ 1812
_First Child_, _Maria_, _born_ 1813
_Publishes_ '_The Rural Minstrel_' 1813
_Elizabeth born_ 1814
_Publishes_ '_The Cottage in the Wood_' 1815
_Curacy at Thornton_ 1816
_Charlotte Bronte born at Thornton_ 21 _April_ 1816
_Patrick Branwell Bronte born_ 1817
_Emily Jane Bronte born_ 1818
'_The Maid of Killarney_' _published_ 1818
_Anne Bronte born_ 1819
_Removal to Incumbency of Haworth_ _February_ 1820
_Mrs. Bronte died_ 15 _September_ 1821
_Maria and Elizabeth Bronte at Cowan Bridge_ _July_ 1824
_Charlotte and Emily_ ,, ,, _September_ 1824
_Leave Cowan Bridge_ 1825
_Maria Bronte died_ 6 _May_ 1825
_Elizabeth Bronte died_ 15 _June_ 1825
_Charlotte Bronte at School_, _January_ 1831
_Roe Head_
_Leaves Roe Head School_ 1832
_First Visit to Ellen Nussey at The Rydings_ _September_ 1832
_Returns to Roe Head as governess_ 29 _July_ 1835
_Branwell visits London_ 1835
_Emily spends three months at Roe Head_, _when Anne 1835
takes her place and she returns home_
_Ellen Nussey visits Haworth in Holidays_ _July_ 1836
_Miss Wooler's School removed to Dewsbury Moor_ 1836
_Emily at a School at Halifax for six months_ 1836
(_Miss Patchet of Law Hill_)
_First Proposal of Marriage_ (_Henry Nussey_) _March_ 1839
_Anne Bronte becomes governess at Blake Hall_, _April_ 1839
(_Mrs. Ingham's_)
_Charlotte governess at Mrs. Sidgwick's at Stonegappe_, 1839
_and at Swarcliffe_, _Harrogate_
_Second Proposal of Marriage_ (_Mr. Price_) 1839
_Charlotte and Emily at Haworth_, 1840
_Anne at Blake Hall_
_Charlotte's second situation as governess with _March_ 1841
Mrs. White_, _Upperwood House_, _Rawdon_
_Charlotte and Emily go to School at Brussels_ _February_ 1842
_Miss Branwell died at Haworth_ 29 _Oct._ 1842
_Charlotte and Emily return to Haworth_ _Nov._ 1842
_Charlotte returns to Brussels_ _Jan._ 1843
_Returns to Haworth_ _Jan._ 1844
_Anne and Branwell at Thorp Green_ 1845
_Charlotte visits Mary Taylor at Hounsden_ 1845
_Visits Miss Nussey at Brookroyd_ 1845
_Publication of Poems by Currer_, 1846
_Ellis and Acton Bell_
_Charlotte Bronte visits Manchester with her father for _Aug._ 1846
him to see an Oculist_
'_Jane Eyre_' _published_ (_Smith & Elder_) _Oct._ 1847
'_Wuthering Heights_' _and_ '_Agnes Grey_', (_Newby_) _Dec._ 1847
_Charlotte and Emily visit London_ _June_ 1848
'_Tenant of Wildfell Hall_' 1848
_Branwell died_ 24 _Sept._ 1848
_Emily died_ 19 _Dec._ 1848
_Anne Bronte died at Scarborough_ 28 _May_ 1849
'_Shirley_' _published_ 1849
_Visit to London_, _first meeting with Thackeray_ _Nov._ 1849
_Visit to London_, _sits for Portrait to Richmond_ 1850
_Third Offer of Marriage_ (_James Taylor_) 1851
_Visit to London for Exhibition_ 1851
'_Villette_' _published_ 1852
_Visit to London_ 1853
_Visit to Manchester to Mrs. Gaskell_ 1853
_Marriage_ 29 _June_ 1854
_Death_ 31 _March_ 1855
_Patrick Bronte died_ 7 _June_ 1861
PRELIMINARY: MRS. GASKELL
In the whole of English biographical literature there is no book that can
compare in widespread interest with the _Life of Charlotte Bronte_ by
Mrs. Gaskell. It has held a position of singular popularity for forty
years; and while biography after biography has come and gone, it still
commands a place side by side with Boswell's _Johnson_ and Lockhart's
_Scott_. As far as mere readers are concerned, it may indeed claim its
hundreds as against the tens of intrinsically more important rivals.
There are obvious reasons for this success. Mrs. Gaskell was herself a
popular novelist, who commanded a very wide audience, and _Cranford_, at
least, has taken a place among the classics of our literature. She
brought to bear upon the biography of Charlotte Bronte all those literary
gifts which had made the charm of her seven volumes of romance. And
these gifts were employed upon a romance of real life, not less
fascinating than anything which imagination could have furnished.
Charlotte Bronte's success as an author turned the eyes of the world upon
her. Thackeray had sent her his _Vanity Fair_ before he knew her name or
sex. The precious volume lies before me--
[Picture: First Thackeray Inscription]
And Thackeray did not send many inscribed copies of his books even to
successful authors. Speculation concerning the author of _Jane Eyre_ was
sufficiently rife during those seven sad years of literary renown to make
a biography imperative when death came to Charlotte Bronte in 1855. All
the world had heard something of the three marvellous sisters, daughters
of a poor parson in Yorkshire, going one after another to their death
with such melancholy swiftness, but leaving--two of them, at
least--imperishable work behind them. The old blind father and the
bereaved husband read the confused eulogy and criticism, sometimes with a
sad pleasure at the praise, oftener with a sadder pain at the grotesque
inaccuracy. Small wonder that it became impressed upon Mr. Bronte's mind
that an authoritative biography was desirable. His son-in-law, Mr.
Arthur Bell Nicholls, who lived with him in the Haworth parsonage during
the six weary years which succeeded Mrs. Nicholls's death, was not so
readily won to the unveiling of his wife's inner life; and although we,
who read Mrs. Gaskell's _Memoir_, have every reason to be thankful for
Mr. Bronte's decision, peace of mind would undoubtedly have been more
assured to Charlotte Bronte's surviving relatives had the most rigid
silence been maintained. The book, when it appeared in 1857, gave
infinite pain to a number of people, including Mr. Bronte and Mr.
Nicholls; and Mrs. Gaskell's subsequent experiences had the effect of
persuading her that all biographical literature was intolerable and
undesirable. She would seem to have given instructions that no biography
of herself should be written; and now that thirty years have passed since
her death we have no substantial record of one of the most fascinating
women of her age. The loss to literature has been forcibly brought home
to the present writer, who has in his possession a bundle of letters
written by Mrs. Gaskell to numerous friends of Charlotte Bronte during
the progress of the biography. They serve, all of them, to impress one
with the singular charm of the woman, her humanity and breadth of
sympathy. They make us think better of Mrs. Gaskell, as Thackeray's
letters to Mrs. Brookfield make us think better of the author of _Vanity
Fair_.
Apart from these letters, a journey in the footsteps, as it were, of Mrs.
Gaskell reveals to us the remarkable conscientiousness with which she set
about her task. It would have been possible, with so much fame behind
her, to have secured an equal success, and certainly an equal pecuniary
reward, had she merely written a brief monograph with such material as
was voluntarily placed in her hands. Mrs. Gaskell possessed a higher
ideal of a biographer's duties. She spared no pains to find out the
facts; she visited every spot associated with the name of Charlotte
Bronte--Thornton, Haworth, Cowan Bridge, Birstall, Brussels--and she
wrote countless letters to the friends of Charlotte Bronte's earlier
days.
But why, it may be asked, was Mrs. Gaskell selected as biographer? The
choice was made by Mr. Bronte, and not, as has been suggested, by some
outside influence. When Mr. Bronte had once decided that there should be
an authoritative biography--and he alone was active in the matter--there
could be but little doubt upon whom the task would fall. Among all the
friends whom fame had brought to Charlotte, Mrs. Gaskell stood prominent
for her literary gifts and her large-hearted sympathy. She had made the
acquaintance of Miss Bronte when the latter was on a visit to Sir James
Kay Shuttleworth, in 1850; and a letter from Charlotte to her father, and
others to Mr. W. S. Williams, indicate the beginning of a friendship
which was to leave so permanent a record in literary history:--
TO W. S. WILLIAMS
'20_th_ _November_, 1849.
'MY DEAR SIR,--You said that if I wished for any copies of _Shirley_
to be sent to individuals I was to name the parties. I have thought
of one person to whom I should much like a copy to be
offered--Harriet Martineau. For her character--as revealed in her
works--I have a lively admiration, a deep esteem. Will you inclose
with the volume the accompanying note?
'The letter you forwarded this morning was from Mrs. Gaskell,
authoress of _Mary Barton_; she said I was not to answer it, but I
cannot help doing so. The note brought the tears to my eyes. She is
a good, she is a great woman. Proud am I that I can touch a chord of
sympathy in souls so noble. In Mrs. Gaskell's nature it mournfully
pleases me to fancy a remote affinity to my sister Emily. In Miss
Martineau's mind I have always felt the same, though there are wide
differences. Both these ladies are above me--certainly far my
superiors in attainments and experience. I think I could look up to
them if I knew them.--I am, dear sir, yours sincerely,
'C. BRONTE.'
TO W. S. WILLIAMS
'_November_ 29_th_, 1849.
'DEAR SIR,--I inclose two notes for postage. The note you sent
yesterday was from Harriet Martineau; its contents were more than
gratifying. I ought to be thankful, and I trust I am, for such
testimonies of sympathy from the first order of minds. When Mrs.
Gaskell tells me she shall keep my works as a treasure for her
daughters, and when Harriet Martineau testifies affectionate
approbation, I feel the sting taken from the strictures of another
class of critics. My resolution of seclusion withholds me from
communicating further with these ladies at present, but I now know
how they are inclined to me--I know how my writings have affected
their wise and pure minds. The knowledge is present support and,
perhaps, may be future armour.
'I trust Mrs. Williams's health and, consequently, your spirits are
by this time quite restored. If all be well, perhaps I shall see you
next week.--Yours sincerely,
'C. BRONTE.'
TO W. S. WILLIAMS
'_January_ 1_st_, 1850.
'MY DEAR SIR,--May I beg that a copy of _Wuthering Heights_ may be
sent to Mrs. Gaskell; her present address is 3 Sussex Place, Regent's
Park. She has just sent me the _Moorland Cottage_. I felt
disappointed about the publication of that book, having hoped it
would be offered to Smith, Elder & Co.; but it seems she had no
alternative, as it was Mr. Chapman himself who asked her to write a
Christmas book. On my return home yesterday I found two packets from
Cornhill directed in two well-known hands waiting for me. You are
all very very good.
'I trust to have derived benefit from my visit to Miss Martineau. A
visit more interesting I certainly never paid. If self-sustaining
strength can be acquired from example, I ought to have got good. But
my nature is not hers; I could not make it so though I were to submit
it seventy times seven to the furnace of affliction, and discipline
it for an age under the hammer and anvil of toil and self-sacrifice.
Perhaps if I was like her I should not admire her so much as I do.
She is somewhat absolute, though quite unconsciously so; but she is
likewise kind, with an affection at once abrupt and constant, whose
sincerity you cannot doubt. It was delightful to sit near her in the
evenings and hear her converse, myself mute. She speaks with what
seems to me a wonderful fluency and eloquence. Her animal spirits
are as unflagging as her intellectual powers. I was glad to find her
health excellent. I believe neither solitude nor loss of friends
would break her down. I saw some faults in her, but somehow I liked
them for the sake of her good points. It gave me no pain to feel
insignificant, mentally and corporeally, in comparison with her.
'Trusting that you and yours are well, and sincerely wishing you all
a happy new year,--I am, my dear sir, yours sincerely,
'C. BRONTE.'
TO REV. P. BRONTE
'THE BRIERY, WINDERMERE,
'_August_ 10_th_, 1850.
'DEAR PAPA,--I reached this place yesterday evening at eight o'clock,
after a safe though rather tedious journey. I had to change
carriages three times and to wait an hour and a half at Lancaster.
Sir James came to meet me at the station; both he and Lady
Shuttleworth gave me a very kind reception. This place is
exquisitely beautiful, though the weather is cloudy, misty, and
stormy; but the sun bursts out occasionally and shows the hills and
the lake. Mrs. Gaskell is coming here this evening, and one or two
other people. Miss Martineau, I am sorry to say, I shall not see, as
she is already gone from home for the autumn.
'Be kind enough to write by return of post and tell me how you are
getting on and how you are. Give my kind regards to Tabby and
Martha, and--Believe me, dear papa, your affectionate daughter,
'C. BRONTE.'
And this is how she writes to a friend from Haworth, on her return, after
that first meeting:--
'Lady Shuttleworth never got out, being confined to the house with a
cold; but fortunately there was Mrs. Gaskell, the authoress of _Mary
Barton_, who came to the Briery the day after me. I was truly glad
of her companionship. She is a woman of the most genuine talent, of
cheerful, pleasing, and cordial manners, and, I believe, of a kind
and good heart.'
TO W. S. WILLIAMS
'_September_ 20_th_, 1850.
'MY DEAR SIR,--I herewith send you a very roughly written copy of
what I have to say about my sisters. When you have read it you can
better judge whether the word "Notice" or "Memoir" is the most
appropriate. I think the former. Memoir seems to me to express a
more circumstantial and different sort of account. My aim is to give
a just idea of their identity, not to write any narration of their
simple, uneventful lives. I depend on you for faithfully pointing
out whatever may strike you as faulty. I could not write it in the
conventional form--_that_ I found impossible.
'It gives me real pleasure to hear of your son's success. I trust he
may persevere and go on improving, and give his parents cause for
satisfaction and honest pride.
'I am truly pleased, too, to learn that Miss Kavanagh has managed so
well with Mr. Colburn. Her position seems to me one deserving of all
sympathy. I often think of her. Will her novel soon be published?
Somehow I expect it to be interesting.
'I certainly did hope that Mrs. Gaskell would offer her next work to
Smith & Elder. She and I had some conversation about publishers--a
comparison of our literary experiences was made. She seemed much
struck with the differences between hers and mine, though I did not
enter into details or tell her all. Unless I greatly mistake, she
and you and Mr. Smith would get on well together; but one does not
know what causes there may be to prevent her from doing as she would
wish in such a case. I think Mr. Smith will not object to my
occasionally sending her any of the Cornhill books that she may like
to see. I have already taken the liberty of lending her Wordsworth's
_Prelude_, as she was saying how much she wished to have the
opportunity of reading it.
'I do not tack remembrances to Mrs. Williams and your daughters and
Miss Kavanagh to all my letters, because that makes an empty form of
what should be a sincere wish, but I trust this mark of courtesy and
regard, though rarely expressed, is always understood.--Believe me,
yours sincerely,
'C. BRONTE.'
Miss Bronte twice visited Mrs. Gaskell in her Manchester home, first in
1851 and afterwards in 1853, and concerning this latter visit we have the
following letter:--
TO MRS. GASKELL, MANCHESTER
'HAWORTH, _April_ 14_th_, 1853.
'MY DEAR MRS. GASKELL,--Would it suit you if I were to come next
Thursday, the 21st?
'If that day tallies with your convenience, and if my father
continues as well as he is now, I know of no engagement on my part
which need compel me longer to defer the pleasure of seeing you.
'I should arrive by the train which reaches Manchester at 7 o'clock
P.M. That, I think, would be about your tea-time, and, of course, I
should dine before leaving home. I always like evening for an
arrival; it seems more cosy and pleasant than coming in about the
busy middle of the day. I think if I stay a week that will be a very
long visit; it will give you time to get well tired of me.
'Remember me very kindly to Mr. Gaskell and Marianna. As to Mesdames
Flossy and Julia, those venerable ladies are requested beforehand to
make due allowance for the awe with which they will be sure to
impress a diffident admirer. I am sorry I shall not see
Meta.--Believe me, my dear Mrs. Gaskell, yours affectionately and
sincerely,
'C. BRONTE.'
In the autumn of 1853 Mrs. Gaskell returned Charlotte Bronte's visit at
Haworth. She was not, however, at Charlotte's wedding in Haworth Church.
{8}
TO MISS WOOLER
'HAWORTH, _September_ 8_th_.
'MY DEAR MISS WOOLER,--Your letter was truly kind, and made me warmly
wish to join you. My prospects, however, of being able to leave home
continue very unsettled. I am expecting Mrs. Gaskell next week or
the week after, the day being yet undetermined. She was to have come
in June, but then my severe attack of influenza rendered it
impossible that I should receive or entertain her. Since that time
she has been absent on the Continent with her husband and two eldest
girls; and just before I received yours I had a letter from her
volunteering a visit at a vague date, which I requested her to fix as
soon as possible. My father has been much better during the last
three or four days.
'When I know anything certain I will write to you again.--Believe me,
my dear Miss Wooler, yours respectfully and affectionately,
'C. BRONTE.'
But the friendship, which commenced so late in Charlotte Bronte's life,
never reached the stage of downright intimacy. Of this there is abundant
evidence in the biography; and Mrs. Gaskell was forced to rely upon the
correspondence of older friends of Charlotte's. Mr. George Smith, the
head of the firm of Smith and Elder, furnished some twenty letters. Mr.
W. S. Williams, to whom is due the credit of 'discovering' the author of
_Jane Eyre_, lent others; and another member of Messrs. Smith and Elder's
staff, Mr. James Taylor, furnished half-a-dozen more; but the best help
came from another quarter.
Of the two schoolfellows with whom Charlotte Bronte regularly
corresponded from childhood till death, Mary Taylor and Ellen Nussey, the
former had destroyed every letter; and thus it came about that by far the
larger part of the correspondence in Mrs. Gaskell's biography was
addressed to Miss Ellen Nussey, now as 'My dearest Nell,' now simply as
'E.' The unpublished correspondence in my hands, which refers to the
biography, opens with a letter from Mrs. Gaskell to Miss Nussey, dated
July 6th, 1855. It relates how, in accordance with a request from Mr.
Bronte, she had undertaken to write the work, and had been over to
Haworth. There she had made the acquaintance of Mr. Nicholls for the
first time. She told Mr. Bronte how much she felt the difficulty of the
task she had undertaken. Nevertheless, she sincerely desired to make his
daughter's character known to all who took deep interest in her writings.
Both Mr. Bronte and Mr. Nicholls agreed to help to the utmost, although
Mrs. Gaskell was struck by the fact that it was Mr. Nicholls, and not Mr.
Bronte, who was more intellectually alive to the attraction which such a
book would have for the public. His feelings were opposed to any
biography at all; but he had yielded to Mr. Bronte's 'impetuous wish,'
and he brought down all the materials he could find, in the shape of
about a dozen letters. Mr. Nicholls, moreover, told Mrs. Gaskell that
Miss Nussey was the person of all others to apply to; that she had been
the friend of his wife ever since Charlotte was fifteen, and that he was
writing to Miss Nussey to beg her to let Mrs. Gaskell see some of the
correspondence.
But here is Mr. Nicholls's actual letter, unearthed after forty years, as
well as earlier letters from and to Miss Nussey, which would seem to
indicate a suggestion upon the part of 'E' that some attempt should be
made to furnish a biography of her friend--if only to set at rest, once
and for all, the speculations of the gossiping community with whom
Charlotte Bronte's personality was still shrouded in mystery; and indeed
it is clear from these letters that it is to Miss Nussey that we really
owe Mrs. Gaskell's participation in the matter:--
TO REV. A. B. NICHOLLS
'BROOKROYD, _June_ 6_th_, 1855.
'DEAR MR. NICHOLLS,--I have been much hurt and pained by the perusal
of an article in _Sharpe_ for this month, entitled "A Few Words about
_Jane Eyre_." You will be certain to see the article, and I am sure
both you and Mr. Bronte will feel acutely the misrepresentations and
the malignant spirit which characterises it. Will you suffer the
article to pass current without any refutations? The writer merits
the contempt of silence, but there will be readers and believers.
Shall such be left to imbibe a tissue of malignant falsehoods, or
shall an attempt be made to do justice to one who so highly deserved
justice, whose very name those who best knew her but speak with
reverence and affection? Should not her aged father be defended from
the reproach the writer coarsely attempts to bring upon him?
'I wish Mrs. Gaskell, who is every way capable, would undertake a
reply, and would give a sound castigation to the writer. Her
personal acquaintance with Haworth, the Parsonage, and its inmates,
fits her for the task, and if on other subjects she lacked
information I would gladly supply her with facts sufficient to set
aside much that is asserted, if you yourself are not provided with
all the information that is needed on the subjects produced. Will
you ask Mrs. Gaskell to undertake this just and honourable defence?
I think she would do it gladly. She valued dear Charlotte, and such
an act of friendship, performed with her ability and power, could
only add to the laurels she has already won. I hope you and Mr.
Bronte are well. My kind regards to both.--Believe me, yours
sincerely,
'E. NUSSEY.'
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
'HAWORTH, _June_ 11_th_, 1855.
'DEAR MISS NUSSEY,--We had not seen the article in _Sharpe_, and very
possibly should not, if you had not directed our attention to it. We
ordered a copy, and have now read the "Few Words about _Jane Eyre_."
The writer has certainly made many mistakes, but apparently not from
any unkind motive, as he professes to be an admirer of Charlotte's
works, pays a just tribute to her genius, and in common with
thousands deplores her untimely death. His design seems rather to be
to gratify the curiosity of the multitude in reference to one who had
made such a sensation in the literary world. But even if the article
had been of a less harmless character, we should not have felt
inclined to take any notice of it, as by doing so we should have
given it an importance which it would not otherwise have obtained.
Charlotte herself would have acted thus; and her character stands too
high to be injured by the statements in a magazine of small
circulation and little influence--statements which the writer
prefaces with the remark that he does not vouch for their accuracy.
The many laudatory notices of Charlotte and her works which appeared
since her death may well make us indifferent to the detractions of a
few envious or malignant persons, as there ever will be such.
'The remarks respecting Mr. Bronte excited in him only
amusement--indeed, I have not seen him laugh as much for some months
as he did while I was reading the article to him. We are both well
in health, but lonely and desolate.
'Mr. Bronte unites with me in kind regards.--Yours sincerely,
'A. B. NICHOLLS.'
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
'HAWORTH, _July_ 24_th_, 1855.
'DEAR MISS NUSSEY,--Some other erroneous notices of Charlotte having
appeared, Mr. Bronte has deemed it advisable that some authentic
statement should be put forth. He has therefore adopted your
suggestion and applied to Mrs. Gaskell, who has undertaken to write a
life of Charlotte. Mrs. Gaskell came over yesterday and spent a few
hours with us. The greatest difficulty seems to be in obtaining
materials to show the development of Charlotte's character. For this
reason Mrs. Gaskell is anxious to see her letters, especially those
of any early date. I think I understood you to say that you had
some; if so, we should feel obliged by your letting us have any that
you may think proper, not for publication, but merely to give the
writer an insight into her mode of thought. Of course they will be
returned after a little time.
'I confess that the course most consonant with my own feelings would
be to take no steps in the matter, but I do not think it right to
offer any opposition to Mr. Bronte's wishes.
'We have the same object in view, but should differ in our mode of
proceeding. Mr. Bronte has not been very well. Excitement on Sunday
(our Rush-bearing) and Mrs. Gaskell's visit yesterday have been
rather much for him.--Believe me, sincerely yours,
'A. B. NICHOLLS.'
Mrs. Gaskell, however, wanted to make Miss Nussey's acquaintance, and
asked if she might visit her; and added that she would also like to see
Miss Wooler, Charlotte's schoolmistress, if that lady were still alive.
To this letter Miss Nussey made the following reply:--
TO MRS. GASKELL, MANCHESTER
'ILKLEY, _July_ 26_th_, 1855.
'MY DEAR MADAM,--Owing to my absence from home your letter has only
just reached me. I had not heard of Mr. Bronte's request, but I am
most heartily glad that he has made it. A letter from Mr. Nicholls
was forwarded along with yours, which I opened first, and was thus
prepared for your communication, the subject of which is of the
deepest interest to me. I will do everything in my power to aid the
righteous work you have undertaken, but I feel my powers very
limited, and apprehend that you may experience some disappointment
that I cannot contribute more largely the information which you
desire. I possess a great many letters (for I have destroyed but a
small portion of the correspondence), but I fear the early letters
are not such as to unfold the character of the writer except in a few
points. You perhaps may discover more than is apparent to me. You
will read them with a purpose--I perused them only with interests of
affection. I will immediately look over the correspondence, and I
promise to let you see all that I can confide to your friendly
custody. I regret that my absence from home should have made it
impossible for me to have the pleasure of seeing you at Brookroyd at
the time you propose. I am engaged to stay here till Monday week,
and shall be happy to see you any day you name after that date, or,
if more convenient to you to come Friday or Saturday in next week, I
will gladly return in time to give you the meeting. I am staying
with our schoolmistress, Miss Wooler, in this place. I wish her very
much to give me leave to ask you here, but she does not yield to my
wishes; it would have been pleasanter to me to talk with you among
these hills than sitting in my home and thinking of one who had so
often been present there.--I am, my dear madam, yours sincerely,
'ELLEN NUSSEY.'
Mrs. Gaskell and Miss Nussey met, and the friendship which ensued was
closed only by death; and indeed one of the most beautiful letters in the
collection in my hands is one signed 'Meta Gaskell,' and dated January
22, 1866. It tells in detail, with infinite tenderness and pathos, of
her mother's last moments. {14} That, however, was ten years later than
the period with which we are concerned. In 1856 Mrs. Gaskell was
energetically engaged upon a biography of her friend which should lack
nothing of thoroughness, as she hoped. She claimed to have visited the
scenes of all the incidents in Charlotte's life, 'the two little pieces
of private governess-ship excepted.' She went one day with Mr. Smith to
the Chapter Coffee House, where the sisters first stayed in London.
Another day she is in Yorkshire, where she makes the acquaintance of Miss
Wooler, which permitted, as she said, 'a more friendly manner of writing
towards Charlotte Bronte's old schoolmistress.' Again she is in
Brussels, where Madame Heger refused to see her, although M. Heger was
kind and communicative, 'and very much indeed I both like and respect
him.' Her countless questions were exceedingly interesting. They
covered many pages of note-paper. Did Branwell Bronte know of the
publication of _Jane Eyre_,' she asks, 'and how did he receive the news?'
Mrs. Gaskell was persuaded in her own mind that he had never known of its
publication, and we shall presently see that she was right. Charlotte
had distinctly informed her, she said, that Branwell was not in a fit
condition at the time to be told. 'Where did the girls get the books
which they read so continually? Did Emily accompany Charlotte as a pupil
when the latter went as a teacher to Roe Head? Why did not Branwell go
to the Royal Academy in London to learn painting? Did Emily ever go out
as a governess? What were Emily's religious opinions? Did _she_ ever
make friends?' Such were the questions which came quick and fast to Miss
Nussey, and Miss Nussey fortunately kept her replies.
TO MRS. GASKELL, MANCHESTER
'BROOKROYD, _October_ 22_nd_, 1856.
'MY DEAR MRS. GASKELL,--If you go to London pray try what may be done
with regard to a portrait of dear Charlotte. It would greatly
enhance the value and interest of the memoir, and be such a
satisfaction to people to see something that would settle their ideas
of the personal appearance of the dear departed one. It has been a
surprise to every stranger, I think, that she was so gentle and
lady-like to look upon.
'Emily Bronte went to Roe Head as pupil when Charlotte went as
teacher; she stayed there but two months; she never settled, and was
ill from nothing but home-sickness. Anne took her place and remained
about two years. Emily was a teacher for one six months in a ladies'
school in Halifax or the neighbourhood. I do not know whether it was
conduct or want of finances that prevented Branwell from going to the
Royal Academy. Probably there were impediments of both kinds.
'I am afraid if you give me my name I shall feel a prominence in the
book that I altogether shrink from. My very last wish would be to
appear in the book more than is absolutely necessary. If it were
possible, I would choose not to be known at all. It is my friend
only that I care to see and recognise, though your framing and
setting of the picture will very greatly enhance its value.--I am, my
dear Mrs. Gaskell, yours very sincerely,
'ELLEN NUSSEY.'
The book was published in two volumes, under the title of _The Life of
Charlotte Bronte_, in the spring of 1857. At first all was well. Mr.
Bronte's earliest acknowledgment of the book was one of approbation. Sir
James Shuttleworth expressed the hope that Mr. Nicholls would 'rejoice
that his wife would be known as a Christian heroine who could bear her
cross with the firmness of a martyr saint.' Canon Kingsley wrote a
charming letter to Mrs. Gaskell, published in his _Life_, and more than
once reprinted since.
'Let me renew our long interrupted acquaintance,' he writes from St.
Leonards, under date May 14th, 1857, 'by complimenting you on poor
Miss Bronte's _Life_. You have had a delicate and a great work to
do, and you have done it admirably. Be sure that the book will do
good. It will shame literary people into some stronger belief that a
simple, virtuous, practical home life is consistent with high
imaginative genius; and it will shame, too, the prudery of a not over
cleanly though carefully white-washed age, into believing that purity
is now (as in all ages till now) quite compatible with the knowledge
of evil. I confess that the book has made me ashamed of myself.
_Jane Eyre_ I hardly looked into, very seldom reading a work of
fiction--yours, indeed, and Thackeray's, are the only ones I care to
open. _Shirley_ disgusted me at the opening, and I gave up the
writer and her books with a notion that she was a person who liked
coarseness. How I misjudged her! and how thankful I am that I never
put a word of my misconceptions into print, or recorded my
misjudgments of one who is a whole heaven above me.
'Well have you done your work, and given us the picture of a valiant
woman made perfect by suffering. I shall now read carefully and
lovingly every word she has written, especially those poems, which
ought not to have fallen dead as they did, and which seem to be (from
a review in the current _Fraser_) of remarkable strength and purity.'
It was a short-lived triumph, however, and Mrs. Gaskell soon found
herself, as she expressed it, 'in a veritable hornet's nest.' Mr.
Bronte, to begin with, did not care for the references to himself and the
suggestion that he had treated his wife unkindly. Mrs. Gaskell had
associated him with numerous eccentricities and ebullitions of temper,
which during his later years he always asserted, and undoubtedly with
perfect truth, were, at the best, the fabrications of a dismissed
servant. Mr. Nicholls had also his grievance. There was just a
suspicion implied that he had not been quite the most sympathetic of
husbands. The suspicion was absolutely ill-founded, and arose from Mr.
Nicholls's intense shyness. But neither Mr. Bronte nor Mr. Nicholls gave
Mrs. Gaskell much trouble. They, at any rate, were silent. Trouble,
however, came from many quarters. Yorkshire people resented the air of
patronage with which, as it seemed to them, a good Lancashire lady had
taken their county in hand. They were not quite the backward savages,
they retorted, which some of Mrs. Gaskell's descriptions in the beginning
of her book would seem to suggest. Between Lancashire and Yorkshire
there is always a suspicion of jealousy. It was intensified for the
moment by these sombre pictures of 'this lawless, yet not unkindly
population.' {17} A son-in-law of Mr. Redhead wrote to deny the account
of that clergyman's association with Haworth. 'He gives another as true,
in which I don't see any great difference.' Miss Martineau wrote sheet
after sheet explanatory of her relations with Charlotte Bronte. 'Two
separate householders in London _each_ declares that the first interview
between Miss Bronte and Miss Martineau took place at _her_ house.' In
one passage Mrs. Gaskell had spoken of wasteful young servants, and the
young servants in question came upon Mr. Bronte for the following
testimonial:--
'HAWORTH, _August_ 17_th_, 1857.
'I beg leave to state to all whom it may concern, that Nancy and
Sarah Garrs, during the time they were in my service, were kind to my
children, and honest, and not wasteful, but sufficiently careful in
regard to food, and all other articles committed to their charge.
P. BRONTE, A.B.,
'_Incumbent of Haworth_, _Yorkshire_.'
Three whole pages were devoted to the dramatic recital of a scandal at
Haworth, and this entirely disappears from the third edition. A casual
reference to a girl who had been seduced, and had found a friend in Miss
Bronte, gave further trouble. 'I have altered the word "seduced" to
"betrayed,"' writes Mrs. Gaskell to Martha Brown, 'and I hope that this
will satisfy the unhappy girl's friends.' But all these were small
matters compared with the Cowan Bridge controversy and the threatened
legal proceedings over Branwell Bronte's suggested love affairs. Mrs.
Gaskell defended the description in _Jane Eyre_ of Cowan Bridge with
peculiar vigour. Mr. Carus Wilson, the Brocklehurst of _Jane Eyre_, and
his friends were furious. They threatened an action. There were letters
in the _Times_ and letters in the _Daily News_. Mr. Nicholls broke
silence--the only time in the forty years that he has done so--with two
admirable letters to the _Halifax Guardian_. The Cowan Bridge
controversy was a drawn battle, in spite of numerous and glowing
testimonials to the virtues of Mr. Carus Wilson. Most people who know
anything of the average private schools of half a century ago are
satisfied that Charlotte Bronte's description was substantially correct.
'I want to show you many letters,' writes Mrs. Gaskell, 'most of them
praising the character of our dear friend as she deserves, and from
people whose opinion she would have cared for, such as the Duke of
Argyll, Kingsley, Greig, etc. Many abusing me. I should think seven or
eight of this kind from the Carus Wilson clique.'
The Branwell matter was more serious. Here Mrs. Gaskell had, indeed,
shown a singular recklessness. The lady referred to by Branwell was Mrs.
Robinson, the wife of the Rev. Edmund Robinson of Thorp Green, and
afterwards Lady Scott. Anne Bronte was governess in her family for two
years, and Branwell tutor to the son for a few months. Branwell, under
the influence of opium, made certain statements about his relations with
Mrs. Robinson which have been effectually disproved, although they were
implicitly believed by the Bronte girls, who, womanlike, were naturally
ready to regard a woman as the ruin of a beloved brother. The
recklessness of Mrs. Gaskell in accepting such inadequate testimony can
be explained only on the assumption that she had a novelist's
satisfaction in the romance which the 'bad woman' theory supplied. She
wasted a considerable amount of rhetoric upon it. 'When the fatal attack
came on,' she says, 'his pockets were found filled with old letters from
the woman to whom he was attached. He died! she lives still--in May
Fair. I see her name in county papers, as one of those who patronise the
Christmas balls; and I hear of her in London drawing-rooms'--and so on.
There were no love-letters found in Branwell Bronte's pockets. {19} When
Mrs. Gaskell's husband came post-haste to Haworth to ask for proofs of
Mrs. Robinson's complicity in Branwell's downfall, none were obtainable.
I am assured by Mr. Leslie Stephen that his father, Sir James Stephen,
was employed at the time to make careful inquiry, and that he and other
eminent lawyers came to the conclusion that it was one long tissue of
lies or hallucinations. The subject is sufficiently sordid, and indeed
almost redundant in any biography of the Brontes; but it is of moment,
because Charlotte Bronte and her sisters were so thoroughly persuaded
that a woman was at the bottom of their brother's ruin; and this belief
Charlotte impressed upon all the friends who were nearest and dearest to
her. Her letters at the time of her brother's death are full of censure
of the supposed wickedness of another. It was a cruel infamy that the
word of this wretched boy should have been so powerful for mischief.
Here, at any rate, Mrs. Gaskell did not show the caution which a
masculine biographer, less prone to take literally a man's accounts of
his amours, would undoubtedly have displayed.
Yet, when all is said, Mrs. Gaskell had done her work thoroughly and
well. Lockhart's _Scott_ and Froude's _Carlyle_ are examples of great
biographies which called for abundant censure upon their publication; yet
both these books will live as classics of their kind. To be interesting,
it is perhaps indispensable that the biographer should be indiscreet, and
certainly the Branwell incident--a matter of two or three pages--is the
only part of Mrs. Gaskell's biography in which indiscretion becomes
indefensible. And for this she suffered cruelly. 'I did so try to tell
the truth,' she said to a friend, 'and I believe _now_ I hit as near to
the truth as any one could do.' 'I weighed every line with my whole
power and heart,' she said on another occasion, 'so that every line
should go to its great purpose of making _her_ known and valued, as one
who had gone through such a terrible life with a brave and faithful
heart.' And that clearly Mrs. Gaskell succeeded in doing. It is quite
certain that Charlotte Bronte would not stand on so splendid a pedestal
to-day but for the single-minded devotion of her accomplished biographer.
It has sometimes been implied that the portrait drawn by Mrs. Gaskell was
far too sombre, that there are passages in Charlotte's letters which show
that ofttimes her heart was merry and her life sufficiently cheerful.
That there were long periods of gaiety for all the three sisters, surely
no one ever doubted. To few people, fortunately, is it given to have
lives wholly without happiness. And yet, when this is acknowledged, how
can one say that the picture was too gloomy? Taken as a whole, the life
of Charlotte Bronte was among the saddest in literature. At a miserable
school, where she herself was unhappy, she saw her two elder sisters
stricken down and carried home to die. In her home was the narrowest
poverty. She had, in the years when that was most essential, no mother's
care; and perhaps there was a somewhat too rigid disciplinarian in the
aunt who took the mother's place. Her second school brought her, indeed,
two kind friends; but her shyness made that school-life in itself a
prolonged tragedy. Of the two experiences as a private governess I shall
have more to say. They were periods of torture to her sensitive nature.
The ambition of the three girls to start a school on their own account
failed ignominiously. The suppressed vitality of childhood and early
womanhood made Charlotte unable to enter with sympathy and toleration
into the life of a foreign city, and Brussels was for her a further
disaster. Then within two years, just as literary fame was bringing its
consolation for the trials of the past, she saw her two beloved sisters
taken from her. And, finally, when at last a good man won her love,
there were left to her only nine months of happy married life. 'I am not
going to die. We have been so happy.' These words to her husband on her
death-bed are not the least piteously sad in her tragic story. That her
life was a tragedy, was the opinion of the woman friend with whom on the
intellectual side she had most in common. Miss Mary Taylor wrote to Mrs.
Gaskell the following letter from New Zealand upon receipt of the
_Life_:--
'WELLINGTON, 30_th_ _July_ 1857.
'MY DEAR MRS. GASKELL,--I am unaccountably in receipt by post of two
vols. containing the Life of C. Bronte. I have pleasure in
attributing this compliment to you; I beg, therefore, to thank you
for them. The book is a perfect success, in giving a true picture of
a melancholy life, and you have practically answered my puzzle as to
how you would give an account of her, not being at liberty to give a
true description of those around. Though not so gloomy as the truth,
it is perhaps as much so as people will accept without calling it
exaggerated, and feeling the desire to doubt and contradict it. I
have seen two reviews of it. One of them sums it up as "a life of
poverty and self-suppression," the other has nothing to the purpose
at all. Neither of them seems to think it a strange or wrong state
of things that a woman of first-rate talents, industry, and integrity
should live all her life in a walking nightmare of "poverty and
self-suppression." I doubt whether any of them will.
'It must upset most people's notions of beauty to be told that the
portrait at the beginning is that of an ugly woman. {22} I do not
altogether like the idea of publishing a flattered likeness. I had
rather the mouth and eyes had been nearer together, and shown the
veritable square face and large disproportionate nose.
'I had the impression that Cartwright's mill was burnt in 1820 not in
1812. You give much too favourable an account of the black-coated
and Tory savages that kept the people down, and provoked excesses in
those days. Old Robertson said he "would wade to the knees in blood
rather than the then state of things should be altered,"--a state
including Corn law, Test law, and a host of other oppressions.
'Once more I thank you for the book--the first copy, I believe, that
arrived in New Zealand.--Sincerely yours,
'MARY TAYLOR.'
And in another letter, written a little later (28th January 1858), Miss
Mary Taylor writes to Miss Ellen Nussey in similar strain:--
'Your account of Mrs. Gaskell's book was very interesting,' she says.
'She seems a hasty, impulsive person, and the needful drawing back
after her warmth gives her an inconsistent look. Yet I doubt not her
book will be of great use. You must be aware that many strange
notions as to the kind of person Charlotte really was will be done
away with by a knowledge of the true facts of her life. I have heard
imperfectly of farther printing on the subject. As to the mutilated
edition that is to come, I am sorry for it. Libellous or not, the
first edition was all true, and except the declamation all, in my
opinion, useful to be published. Of course I don't know how far
necessity may make Mrs. Gaskell give them up. You know one dare not
always say the world moves.'
We who do know the whole story in fullest detail will understand that it
was desirable to 'mutilate' the book, and that, indeed, truth did in some
measure require it. But with these letters of Mary Taylor's before us,
let us not hear again that the story of Charlotte Bronte's life was not,
in its main features, accurately and adequately told by her gifted
biographer.
Why then, I am naturally asked, add one further book to the Bronte
biographical literature? The reply is, I hope, sufficient. Forty years
have gone by, and they have been years of growing interest in the
subject. In the year 1895 ten thousand people visited the Bronte Museum
at Haworth. Interesting books have been written, notably Sir Wemyss
Reid's _Monograph_ and Mr. Leyland's _Bronte Family_, but they have gone
out of print. Many new facts have come to light, and many details,
moreover, which were too trivial in 1857 are of sufficient importance
to-day; and many facts which were rightly suppressed then may honestly
and honourably be given to the public at an interval of nearly half a
century. Added to all this, fortune has been kind to me.
Some three or four years ago Miss Ellen Nussey placed in my hands a
printed volume of some 400 pages, which bore no publisher's name, but
contained upon its title-page the statement that it was _The Story of
Charlotte Bronte's Life_, _as told through her Letters_. These are the
Letters--370 in number--which Miss Nussey had lent to Mrs. Gaskell and to
Sir Wemyss Reid. Of these letters Mrs. Gaskell published about 100, and
Sir Wemyss Reid added as many more as he considered circumstances
justified twenty years back.
It was explained to me that the volume had been privately printed under a
misconception, and that only some dozen copies were extant. Miss Nussey
asked me if I would write something around what might remain of the
unpublished letters, and if I saw my way to do anything which would add
to the public appreciation of the friend who from early childhood until
now has been the most absorbing interest of her life. A careful study of
the volume made it perfectly clear that there were still some letters
which might with advantage be added to the Bronte story. At the same
time arose the possibility of a veto being placed upon their publication.
An examination of Charlotte Bronte's will, which was proved at York by
her husband in 1855, suggested an easy way out of the difficulty. I made
up my mind to try and see Mr. Nicholls. I had heard of his
disinclination to be in any way associated with the controversy which had
gathered round his wife for all these years; but I wrote to him
nevertheless, and received a cordial invitation to visit him in his Irish
home.
It was exactly forty years to a day after Charlotte died--March 31st,
1895--when I alighted at the station in a quiet little town in the centre
of Ireland, to receive the cordial handclasp of the man into whose
keeping Charlotte Bronte had given her life. It was one of many visits,
and the beginning of an interesting correspondence. Mr. Nicholls placed
all the papers in his possession in my hands. They were more varied and
more abundant than I could possibly have anticipated. They included MSS.
of childhood, of which so much has been said, and stories of adult life,
one fragment indeed being later than the _Emma_ which appeared in the
_Cornhill Magazine_ for 1856, with a note by Thackeray. Here were the
letters Charlotte Bronte had written to her brother and to her sisters
during her second sojourn in Brussels--to 'Dear Branwell' and 'Dear E.
J.,' as she calls Emily--letters even to handle will give a thrill to the
Bronte enthusiast. Here also were the love-letters of Maria Branwell to
her lover Patrick Bronte, which are referred to in Mrs. Gaskell's
biography, but have never hitherto been printed.
'The four small scraps of Emily and Anne's manuscript,' writes Mr.
Nicholls, 'I found in the small box I send you; the others I found in
the bottom of a cupboard tied up in a newspaper, where they had lain
for nearly thirty years, and where, had it not been for your visit,
they must have remained during my lifetime, and most likely
afterwards have been destroyed.'
Some slight extracts from Bronte letters in _Macmillan's Magazine_,
signed 'E. Balmer Williams,' brought me into communication with a gifted
daughter of Mr. W. S. Williams. Mrs. Williams and her husband generously
placed the whole series of these letters of Charlotte Bronte to their
father at my disposal. It was of some of these letters that Mrs. Gaskell
wrote in enthusiastic terms when she had read them, and she was only
permitted to see a few. Then I have to thank Mr. Joshua Taylor, the
nephew of Miss Mary Taylor, for permission to publish his aunt's letters.
Mr. James Taylor, again, who wanted to marry Charlotte Bronte, and who
died twenty years afterwards in Bombay, left behind him a bundle of
letters which I found in the possession of a relative in the north of
London. {25} I discovered through a letter addressed to Miss Nussey that
the 'Brussels friend' referred to by Mrs. Gaskell was a Miss Laetitia
Wheelwright, and I determined to write to all the Wheelwrights in the
London Directory. My first effort succeeded, and _the_ Miss Wheelwright
kindly lent me all the letters that she had preserved. It is scarcely
possible that time will reveal many more unpublished letters from the
author of _Jane Eyre_. Several of those already in print are forgeries,
and I have actually seen a letter addressed from Paris, a city which Miss
Bronte never visited. I have the assurance of Dr. Heger of Brussels that
Miss Bronte's correspondence with his father no longer exists. In any
case one may safely send forth this little book with the certainty that
it is a fairly complete collection of Charlotte Bronte's correspondence,
and that it is altogether a valuable revelation of a singularly
interesting personality. Steps will be taken henceforth, it may be
added, to vindicate Mr. Nicholls's rights in whatever may still remain of
his wife's unpublished correspondence.
CHAPTER I: PATRICK BRONTE AND MARIA HIS WIFE
It would seem quite clear to any careful investigator that the Reverend
Patrick Bronte, Incumbent of Haworth, and the father of three famous
daughters, was a much maligned man. We talk of the fierce light which
beats upon a throne, but what is that compared to the fierce light which
beats upon any man of some measure of individuality who is destined to
live out his life in the quiet of a country village--in the very centre,
as it were, of 'personal talk' and gossip not always kindly to the
stranger within the gate? The view of Mr. Bronte, presented by Mrs.
Gaskell in the early editions of her biography of Charlotte Bronte, is
that of a severe, ill-tempered, and distinctly disagreeable character.
It is the picture of a man who disliked the vanities of life so
intensely, that the new shoes of his children and the silk dress of his
wife were not spared by him in sudden gusts of passion. A stern old
ruffian, one is inclined to consider him. His pistol-shooting rings
picturesquely, but not agreeably, through Mrs. Gaskell's memoirs. It has
been already explained in more than one quarter that this was not the
real Patrick Bronte, and that much of the unfavourable gossip was due to
the chatter of a dismissed servant, retailed to Mrs. Gaskell on one of
her missions of inquiry in the neighbourhood. The stories of the burnt
shoes and the mutilated dress have been relegated to the realm of myth,
and the pistol-shooting may now be acknowledged as a harmless pastime not
more iniquitous than the golfing or angling of a latter-day clergyman.
It is certain, were the matter of much interest to-day, that Mr. Bronte
was fond of the use of firearms. The present Incumbent of Haworth will
point out to you, on the old tower of Haworth Church, the marks of pistol
bullets, which he is assured were made by Mr. Bronte. I have myself
handled both the gun and the pistol--this latter a very ornamental
weapon, by the way, manufactured at Bradford--which Mr. Bronte possessed
during the later years of his life. From both he had obtained much
innocent amusement; but his son-in-law, Mr. Nicholls, who, at the
distance of forty years still cherishes a reverent and enthusiastic
affection for old Mr. Bronte, informs me that the bullet marks upon
Haworth Church were the irresponsible frolic of a rather juvenile
curate--Mr. Smith. All this is trivial enough in any case, and one turns
very readily to more important factors in the life of the father of the
Brontes. Patrick Bronte was born at Ahaderg, County Down, in Ireland, on
St. Patrick's Day, March 17, 1777. He was one of the ten children of
Hugh Brunty, farmer, and his nine brothers and sisters seem all of them
to have spent their lives in their Irish home, to have married and been
given in marriage, and to have gone to their graves in peace. Patrick
alone had ambition, and, one must add, the opportune friend, without whom
ambition counts for little in the great struggle of life. At sixteen he
was a kind of village schoolmaster, or assistant schoolmaster, and at
twenty-five, stirred thereto by the vicar of his parish, Mr. Tighe, he
was on his way from Ireland to St. John's College, Cambridge. It was in
1802 that Patrick Bronte went to Cambridge, and entered his name in the
college books. There, indeed, we find the name, not of Patrick Bronte,
but of Patrick Branty, {28} and this brings us to an interesting point as
to the origin of the name. In the register of his birth his name is
entered, as are the births of his brothers and sisters, as 'Brunty' and
'Bruntee'; and it can scarcely be doubted that, as Dr. Douglas Hyde has
pointed out, the original name was O'Prunty. {29} The Irish, at the
beginning of the century, were well-nigh as primitive in some matters as
were the English of a century earlier; and one is not surprised to see
variations in the spelling of the Bronte name--it being in the case of
his brothers and sisters occasionally spelt 'Brontee.' To me it is
perfectly clear that for the change of name Lord Nelson was responsible,
and that the dukedom of Bronte, which was conferred upon the great sailor
in 1799, suggested the more ornamental surname. There were no Irish
Brontes in existence before Nelson became Duke of Bronte; but all
Patrick's brothers and sisters, with whom, it must be remembered, he was
on terms of correspondence his whole life long, gradually, with a true
Celtic sense of the picturesqueness of the thing, seized upon the more
attractive surname. For this theory there is, of course, not one scrap
of evidence; we only know that the register of Patrick's native parish
gives us Brunty, and that his signature through his successive curacies
is Bronte.
From Cambridge, after taking orders in 1806, Mr. Bronte moved to a curacy
at Weatherfield in Essex; and Mr. Augustine Birrell has told us, with
that singular literary charm of his, how the good-looking Irish curate
made successful love to a young parishioner--Miss Mary Burder. Mary
Burder would have married him, it seems, but for an obdurate uncle and
guardian. She was spirited away from the neighbourhood, and the lovers
never met again. There are doubtful points in Mr. Birrell's story. Mary
Burder, as the wife of a Nonconformist minister, died in 1866, in her
seventy-seventh year. This lady, from whom doubtless either directly or
indirectly the tradition was obtained, may have amplified and exaggerated
a very innocent flirtation. One would like further evidence for the
statement that when Mr. Bronte lost his wife in 1821 he asked his old
sweetheart, Mary Burder, to become the mother of his six children, and
that she answered 'no'. In any case, Mr. Bronte left Weatherfield in
1809 for a curacy at Dewsbury, and Dewsbury gossip also had much to say
concerning the flirtations of its Irish curate. His next curacy,
however, which was obtained in 1811, by a removal to Hartshead, near
Huddersfield, brought flirtation for Mr. Bronte to a speedy end. In
1812, when thirty-three years of age, he married Miss Maria Branwell, of
Penzance. Miss Branwell had only a few months before left her Cornish
home for a visit to an uncle in Yorkshire. This uncle was a Mr. John
Fennell, a clergyman of the Church of England, who had been a Methodist
minister. To Methodism, indeed, the Cornish Branwells would seem to have
been devoted at one time or another, for I have seen a copy of the
_Imitation_ inscribed 'M. Branwell, July 1807,' with the following
title-page:--
AN EXTRACT OF THE CHRISTIAN'S PATTERN: OR, A TREATISE ON THE
IMITATION OF CHRIST. WRITTEN IN LATIN BY THOMAS A KEMPIS. ABRIDGED
AND PUBLISHED IN ENGLISH BY JOHN WESLEY, M.A., LONDON. PRINTED AT
THE CONFERENCE OFFICE, NORTH GREEN, FINSBURY SQUARE. G. STORY,
AGENT. SOLD BY G. WHITFIELD, CITY ROAD. 1803. PRICE BOUND 1s.
The book was evidently brought by Mrs. Bronte from Penzance, and given by
her to her husband or left among her effects. The poor little woman had
been in her grave for five or six years when it came into the hands of
one of her daughters, as we learn from Charlotte's hand-writing on the
fly-leaf:--
'_C. Bronte's book_. _This book was given to me in July 1826_. _It
is not certainly known who is the author_, _but it is generally
supposed that Thomas a Kempis is_. _I saw a reward of_ 10,000 pounds
_offered in the Leeds Mercury to any one who could find out for a
certainty who is the author_.'
The conjunction of the names of John Wesley, Maria Branwell, and
Charlotte Bronte surely gives this little volume, 'price bound 1s.,' a
singular interest!
But here I must refer to the letters which Maria Branwell wrote to her
lover during the brief courtship. Mrs. Gaskell, it will be remembered,
makes but one extract from this correspondence, which was handed to her
by Mr. Bronte as part of the material for her memoir. Long years before,
the little packet had been taken from Mr. Bronte's desk, for we find
Charlotte writing to a friend on February 16th, 1850:--
'A few days since, a little incident happened which curiously touched
me. Papa put into my hands a little packet of letters and papers,
telling me that they were mamma's, and that I might read them. I did
read them, in a frame of mind I cannot describe. The papers were
yellow with time, all having been written before I was born. It was
strange now to peruse, for the first time, the records of a mind
whence my own sprang; and most strange, and at once sad and sweet, to
find that mind of a truly fine, pure, and elevated order. They were
written to papa before they were married. There is a rectitude, a
refinement, a constancy, a modesty, a sense, a gentleness about them
indescribable. I wish she had lived, and that I had known her.'
Yet another forty years or so and the little packet is in my possession.
Handling, with a full sense of their sacredness, these letters, written
more than eighty years ago by a good woman to her lover, one is tempted
to hope that there is no breach of the privacy which should, even in our
day, guide certain sides of life, in publishing the correspondence in its
completeness. With the letters I find a little MS., which is also of
pathetic interest. It is entitled 'The Advantages of Poverty in
Religious Concerns,' and it is endorsed in the handwriting of Mr. Bronte,
written, doubtless, many years afterwards:--
'_The above was written by my dear wife_, _and is for insertion in
one of the periodical publications_. _Keep it as a memorial of
her_.'
There is no reason to suppose that the MS. was ever published; there is
no reason why any editor should have wished to publish it. It abounds in
the obvious. At the same time, one notes that from both father and
mother alike Charlotte Bronte and her sisters inherited some measure of
the literary faculty. It is nothing to say that not one line of the
father's or mother's would have been preserved had it not been for their
gifted children. It is sufficient that the zest for writing was there,
and that the intense passion for handling a pen, which seems to have been
singularly strong in Charlotte Bronte, must have come to a great extent
from a similar passion alike in father and mother. Mr. Bronte, indeed,
may be counted a prolific author. He published, in all, four books,
three pamphlets, and two sermons. Of his books, two were in verse and
two in prose. _Cottage Poems_ was published in 1811; _The Rural
Minstrel_ in 1812, the year of his marriage; _The Cottage in the Wood_ in
1815; and _The Maid of Killarney_ in 1818. After his wife's death he
published no more books. Reading over these old-fashioned volumes now,
one admits that they possess but little distinction. It has been pointed
out, indeed, that one of the strongest lines in _Jane Eyre_--'To the
finest fibre of my nature, sir.'--is culled from Mr. Bronte's verse. It
is the one line of his that will live. Like his daughter Charlotte, Mr.
Bronte is more interesting in his prose than in his poetry. _The Cottage
in the Wood_; _or_, _the Art of Becoming Rich and Happy_, is a kind of
religious novel--a spiritual _Pamela_, in which the reprobate pursuer of
an innocent girl ultimately becomes converted and marries her. _The Maid
of Killarney_; _or_, _Albion and Flora_ is more interesting. Under the
guise of a story it has something to say on many questions of importance.
We know now why Charlotte never learnt to dance until she went to
Brussels, and why children's games were unknown to her, for here are many
mild diatribes against dancing and card-playing. The British
Constitution and the British and Foreign Bible Society receive a
considerable amount of criticism. But in spite of this didactic weakness
there are one or two pieces of really picturesque writing, notably a
description of an Irish wake, and a forcible account of the defence of a
house against some Whiteboys. It is true enough that the books are
merely of interest to collectors and that they live only by virtue of
Patrick Bronte's remarkable children. But many a prolific writer of the
day passes muster as a genius among his contemporaries upon as small a
talent; and Mr. Bronte does not seem to have given himself any airs as an
author. Thirty years were to elapse before there were to be any more
books from this family of writers; but _Jane Eyre_ owes something, we may
be sure, to _The Maid of Killarney_.
Mr. Bronte, as I have said, married Maria Branwell in 1812. She was in
her twenty-ninth year, and was one of five children--one son and four
daughters--the father of whom, Mr. Thomas Branwell, had died in 1809. By
a curious coincidence, another sister, Charlotte, was married in Penzance
on the same day--the 18th of December 1812. {33} Before me are a bundle
of samplers, worked by three of these Branwell sisters. Maria Branwell
'ended her sampler' April the 15th, 1791, and it is inscribed with the
text, _Flee from sin as from a serpent_, _for if thou comest too near to
it_, _it will bite thee_. _The teeth thereof are as the teeth of a lion
to slay the souls of men_. Another sampler is by Elizabeth Branwell;
another by Margaret, and another by Anne. These, some miniatures, and
the book and papers to which I have referred, are all that remain to us
as a memento of Mrs. Bronte, apart from the children that she bore to her
husband. The miniatures, which are in the possession of Miss Branwell,
of Penzance, are of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Branwell--Charlotte Bronte's
maternal grandfather and grandmother--and of Mrs. Bronte and her sister
Elizabeth Branwell as children.
To return, however, to our bundle of love-letters. Comment is needless,
if indeed comment or elucidation were possible at this distance of time.
TO REV. PATRICK BRONTE, A.B., HARTSHEAD
'WOOD HOUSE GROVE, _August_ 26_th_, 1812.
'MY DEAR FRIEND,--This address is sufficient to convince you that I
not only permit, but approve of yours to me--I do indeed consider you
as my _friend_; yet, when I consider how short a time I have had the
pleasure of knowing you, I start at my own rashness, my heart fails,
and did I not think that you would be disappointed and grieved at it,
I believe I should be ready to spare myself the task of writing. Do
not think that I am so wavering as to repent of what I have already
said. No, believe me, this will never be the case, unless you give
me cause for it. You need not fear that you have been mistaken in my
character. If I know anything of myself, I am incapable of making an
ungenerous return to the smallest degree of kindness, much less to
you whose attentions and conduct have been so particularly obliging.
I will frankly confess that your behaviour and what I have seen and
heard of your character has excited my warmest esteem and regard, and
be assured you shall never have cause to repent of any confidence you
may think proper to place in me, and that it will always be my
endeavour to deserve the good opinion which you have formed, although
human weakness may in some instances cause me to fall short. In
giving you these assurances I do not depend upon my own strength, but
I look to Him who has been my unerring guide through life, and in
whose continued protection and assistance I confidently trust.
'I thought on you much on Sunday, and feared you would not escape the
rain. I hope you do not feel any bad effects from it? My cousin
wrote you on Monday and expects this afternoon to be favoured with an
answer. Your letter has caused me some foolish embarrassment, tho'
in pity to my feelings they have been very sparing of their raillery.
'I will now candidly answer your questions. The _politeness of
others_ can never make me forget your kind attentions, neither can I
_walk our accustomed rounds_ without thinking on you, and, why should
I be ashamed to add, wishing for your presence. If you knew what
were my feelings whilst writing this you would pity me. I wish to
write the truth and give you satisfaction, yet fear to go too far,
and exceed the bounds of propriety. But whatever I may say or write
I will _never deceive_ you, or _exceed the truth_. If you think I
have not placed the _utmost confidence_ in you, consider my
situation, and ask yourself if I have not confided in you
sufficiently, perhaps too much. I am very sorry that you will not
have this till after to-morrow, but it was out of my power to write
sooner. I rely on your goodness to pardon everything in this which
may appear either too free or too stiff; and beg that you will
consider me as a warm and faithful friend.
'My uncle, aunt, and cousin unite in kind regards.
'I must now conclude with again declaring myself to be yours
sincerely,
'MARIA BRANWELL.'
TO REV. PATRICK BRONTE, A.B, HARTSHEAD
'WOOD HOUSE GROVE, _September_ 5_th_, 1812.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,--I have just received your affectionate and very
welcome letter, and although I shall not be able to send this until
Monday, yet I cannot deny myself the pleasure of writing a few lines
this evening, no longer considering it a task, but a pleasure, next
to that of reading yours. I had the pleasure of hearing from Mr.
Fennell, who was at Bradford on Thursday afternoon, that you had
rested there all night. Had you proceeded, I am sure the walk would
have been too much for you; such excessive fatigue, often repeated,
must injure the strongest constitution. I am rejoiced to find that
our forebodings were without cause. I had yesterday a letter from a
very dear friend of mine, and had the satisfaction to learn by it
that all at home are well. I feel with you the unspeakable
obligations I am under to a merciful Providence--my heart swells with
gratitude, and I feel an earnest desire that I may be enabled to make
some suitable return to the Author of all my blessings. In general,
I think I am enabled to cast my care upon Him, and then I experience
a calm and peaceful serenity of mind which few things can destroy.
In all my addresses to the throne of grace I never ask a blessing for
myself but I beg the same for you, and considering the important
station which you are called to fill, my prayers are proportionately
fervent that you may be favoured with all the gifts and graces
requisite for such calling. O my dear friend, let us pray much that
we may live lives holy and useful to each other and all around us!
'_Monday morn_.--My cousin and I were yesterday at Coverley church,
where we heard Mr. Watman preach a very excellent sermon from "learn
of Me, for I am meek and lowly of heart." He displayed the character
of our Saviour in a most affecting and amiable light. I scarcely
ever felt more charmed with his excellencies, more grateful for his
condescension, or more abased at my own unworthiness; but I lament
that my heart is so little retentive of those pleasing and profitable
impressions.
'I pitied you in your solitude, and felt sorry that it was not in my
power to enliven it. Have you not been too hasty in informing your
friends of a certain event? Why did you not leave them to guess a
little longer? I shrink from the idea of its being known to every
body. I do, indeed, _sometimes_ think of you, but I will not say how
often, lest I raise your vanity; and we sometimes talk of you and the
doctor. But I believe I should seldom mention your name myself were
it not now and then introduced by my cousin. I have never mentioned
a word of what is past to any body. Had I thought this necessary I
should have requested you to do it. But I think there is no need, as
by some means or other they seem to have a pretty correct notion how
matters stand betwixt us; and as their hints, etc., meet with no
contradiction from me, my silence passes for confirmation. Mr.
Fennell has not neglected to give me some serious and encouraging
advice, and my aunt takes frequent opportunities of dropping little
sentences which I may turn to some advantage. I have long had reason
to know that the present state of things would give pleasure to all
parties. Your ludicrous account of the scene at the Hermitage was
highly diverting, we laughed heartily at it; but I fear it will not
produce all that compassion in Miss Fennell's breast which you seem
to wish. I will now tell you what I was thinking about and doing at
the time you mention. I was then toiling up the hill with Jane and
Mrs. Clapham to take our tea at Mr. Tatham's, thinking on the evening
when I first took the same walk with you, and on the change which had
taken place in my circumstances and views since then--not wholly
without a wish that I had your arm to assist me, and your
conversation to shorten the walk. Indeed, all our walks have now an
insipidity in them which I never thought they would have possessed.
When I work, if I wish to get _forward_ I may be glad that you are at
a distance. Jane begs me to assure you of her kind regards. Mr.
Morgan is expected to be here this evening. I must assume a bold and
steady countenance to meet his attacks!
'I have now written a pretty long letter without reserve or caution,
and if all the sentiments of my heart are not laid open to you,
believe me it is not because I wish them to be concealed, for I hope
there is nothing there that would give you pain or displeasure. My
most sincere and earnest wishes are for your happiness and welfare,
for this includes my own. Pray much for me that I may be made a
blessing and not a hindrance to you. Let me not interrupt your
studies nor intrude on that time which ought to be dedicated to
better purposes. Forgive my freedom, my dearest friend, and rest
assured that you are and ever will be dear to
MARIA BRANWELL.
'Write very soon.'
TO REV. PATRICK BRONTE, A.B., HARTSHEAD
'WOOD HOUSE GROVE, _September_ 11_th_, 1812.
'MY DEAREST FRIEND,--Having spent the day yesterday at Miry Shay, a
place near Bradford, I had not got your letter till my return in the
evening, and consequently have only a short time this morning to
write if I send it by this post. You surely do not think you
_trouble_ me by writing? No, I think I may venture to say if such
were your opinion you would _trouble_ me no more. Be assured, your
letters are and I hope always will be received with extreme pleasure
and read with delight. May our Gracious Father mercifully grant the
fulfilment of your prayers! Whilst we depend entirely on Him for
happiness, and receive each other and all our blessings as from His
hands, what can harm us or make us miserable? Nothing temporal or
spiritual.
'Jane had a note from Mr. Morgan last evening, and she desires me to
tell you that the Methodists' service in church hours is to commence
next Sunday week. You may expect frowns and hard words from her when
you make your appearance here again, for, if you recollect, she gave
you a note to carry to the Doctor, and he has never received it.
What have you done with it? If you can give a good account of it you
may come to see us as soon as you please and be sure of a hearty
welcome from all parties. Next Wednesday we have some thoughts, if
the weather be fine, of going to Kirkstall Abbey once more, and I
suppose your presence will not make the walk less agreeable to any of
us.
'The old man is come and waits for my letter. In expectation of
seeing you on Monday or Tuesday next,--I remain, yours faithfully and
affectionately,
'M. B.'
TO REV. PATRICK BRONTE, A.B., HARTSHEAD
'WOOD HOUSE GROVE, _September_ 18_th_, 1812.
'How readily do I comply with my dear Mr. B's request! You see, you
have only to express your wishes and as far as my power extends I
hesitate not to fulfil them. My heart tells me that it will always
be my pride and pleasure to contribute to your happiness, nor do I
fear that this will ever be inconsistent with my duty as a Christian.
My esteem for you and my confidence in you is so great, that I firmly
believe you will never exact anything from me which I could not
conscientiously perform. I shall in future look to you for
assistance and instruction whenever I may need them, and hope you
will never withhold from me any advice or caution you may see
necessary.
['For some years I have been perfectly my own mistress, subject to no
_control_ whatever--so far from it, that my sisters who are many
years older than myself, and even my dear mother, used to consult me
in every case of importance, and scarcely ever doubted the propriety
of my opinions and actions. Perhaps you will be ready to accuse me
of vanity in mentioning this, but you must consider that I do not
_boast_ of it, I have many times felt it a disadvantage; and
although, I thank God, it never led me into error, yet in
circumstances of perplexity and doubt, I have deeply felt the want of
a guide and instructor.] {39}
'At such times I have seen and felt the necessity of supernatural
aid, and by fervent applications to a throne of grace I have
experienced that my heavenly Father is able and willing to supply the
place of every earthly friend. I shall now no longer feel this want,
this sense of helpless weakness, for I believe a kind Providence has
intended that I shall find in you every earthly friend united; nor do
I fear to trust myself under your protection, or shrink from your
control. It is pleasant to be subject to those we love, especially
when they never exert their authority but for the good of the
subject. How few would write in this way! But I do not fear that
_you_ will make a bad use of it. You tell me to write my thoughts,
and thus as they occur I freely let my pen run away with them.
'_Sat. morn_.--I do not know whether you dare show your face here
again or not after the blunder you have committed. When we got to
the house on Thursday evening, even before we were within the doors,
we found that Mr. and Mrs. Bedford had been there, and that they had
requested you to mention their intention of coming--a single hint of
which you never gave! Poor I too came in for a share in the hard
words which were bestowed upon you, for they all agreed that I was
the cause of it. Mr. Fennell said you were certainly _mazed_, and
talked of sending you to York, etc. And even I begin to think that
_this_, together with the _note_, bears some marks of _insanity_!
However, I shall suspend my judgment until I hear what excuse you can
make for yourself, I suppose you will be quite ready to make one of
some kind or another.
'Yesterday I performed a difficult and yet a pleasing task in writing
to my sisters. I thought I never should accomplish the end for which
the letter was designed; but after a good deal of perambulation I
gave them to understand the nature of my engagement with you, with
the motives and inducements which led me to form such an engagement,
and that in consequence of it I should not see them again so soon as
I had intended. I concluded by expressing a hope that they would not
be less pleased with the information than were my friends here. I
think they will not suspect me to have made a wrong step, their
partiality for me is so great. And their affection for me will lead
them to rejoice in my welfare, even though it should diminish
somewhat of their own. I shall think the time tedious till I hear
from you, and must beg you will write as soon as possible. Pardon
me, my dear friend, if I again caution you against giving way to a
weakness of which I have heard you complain. When you find your
heart oppressed and your thoughts too much engrossed by one subject,
let prayer be your refuge--this you no doubt know by experience to be
a sure remedy, and a relief from every care and error. Oh, that we
had more of the spirit of prayer! I feel that I need it much.
'Breakfast-time is near, I must bid you farewell for the time, but
rest assured you will always share in the prayers and heart of your
own
MARIA.
'Mr. Fennell has crossed my letter to my sisters. With his usual
goodness he has supplied my _deficiencies_, and spoken of me in terms
of commendation of which I wish I were more worthy. Your character
he has likewise displayed in the most favourable light; and I am sure
they will not fail to love and esteem you though unknown.
'All here unite in kind regards. Adieu.'
TO REV. PATRICK BRONTE A.B., HARTSHEAD
'WOOD HOUSE GROVE, _September_ 23_rd_, 1812.
'MY DEAREST FRIEND,--Accept of my warmest thanks for your kind
affectionate letter, in which you have rated mine so highly that I
really blush to read my own praises. Pray that God would enable me
to deserve all the kindness you manifest towards me, and to act
consistently with the good opinion you entertain of me--then I shall
indeed be a helpmeet for you, and to be this shall at all times be
the care and study of my future life. We have had to-day a large
party of the Bradford folks--the Rands, Fawcets, Dobsons, etc. My
thoughts often strayed from the company, and I would have gladly left
them to follow my present employment. To write to and receive
letters from my friends were always among my chief enjoyments, but
none ever gave me so much pleasure as those which I receive from and
write to my newly adopted friend. I am by no means sorry you have
given up all thought of the house you mentioned. With my cousin's
help I have made known your plans to my uncle and aunt. Mr. Fennell
immediately coincided with that which respects your present abode,
and observed that it had occurred to him before, but that he had not
had an opportunity of mentioning it to you. My aunt did not fall in
with it so readily, but her objections did not appear to me to be
very weighty. For my own part, I feel all the force of your
arguments in favour of it, and the objections are so trifling that
they can scarcely be called objections. My cousin is of the same
opinion. Indeed, you have such a method of considering and digesting
a plan before you make it known to your friends, that you run very
little risque of incurring their disapprobations, or of having your
schemes frustrated. I greatly admire your talents this way--may they
never be perverted by being used in a bad cause! And whilst they are
exerted for good purposes, may they prove irresistible! If I may
judge from your letter, this middle scheme is what would please you
best, so that if there should arise no new objection to it, perhaps
it will prove the best you can adopt. However, there is yet
sufficient time to consider it further. I trust in this and every
other circumstance you will be guided by the wisdom that cometh from
above--a portion of which I doubt not has guided you hitherto. A
belief of this, added to the complete satisfaction with which I read
your reasonings on the subject, made me a ready convert to your
opinions. I hope nothing will occur to induce you to change your
intention of spending the next week at Bradford. Depend on it you
shall have letter for letter; but may we not hope to see you here
during that time, surely you will not think the way more tedious than
usual? I have not heard any particulars respecting the church since
you were at Bradford. Mr. Rawson is now there, but Mr. Hardy and his
brother are absent, and I understand nothing decisive can be
accomplished without them. Jane expects to hear something more
to-morrow. Perhaps ere this reaches you, you will have received some
intelligence respecting it from Mr. Morgan. If you have no other
apology to make for your blunders than that which you have given me,
you must not expect to be excused, for I have not mentioned it to any
one, so that however it may clear your character in my opinion it is
not likely to influence any other person. Little, very little, will
induce me to cover your faults with a veil of charity. I already
feel a kind of participation in all that concerns you. All praises
and censures bestowed on you must equally affect me. Your joys and
sorrows must be mine. Thus shall the one be increased and the other
diminished. While this is the case we shall, I hope, always find
"life's cares" to be "comforts." And may we feel every trial and
distress, for such must be our lot at times, bind us nearer to God
and to each other! My heart earnestly joins in your comprehensive
prayers. I trust they will unitedly ascend to a throne of grace, and
through the Redeemer's merits procure for us peace and happiness here
and a life of eternal felicity hereafter. Oh, what sacred pleasure
there is in the idea of spending an eternity together in perfect and
uninterrupted bliss! This should encourage us to the utmost exertion
and fortitude. But whilst I write, my own words condemn me--I am
ashamed of my own indolence and backwardness to duty. May I be more
careful, watchful, and active than I have ever yet been!
'My uncle, aunt, and Jane request me to send their kind regards, and
they will be happy to see you any time next week whenever you can
conveniently come down from Bradford. Let me hear from you soon--I
shall expect a letter on Monday. Farewell, my dearest friend. That
you may be happy in yourself and very useful to all around you is the
daily earnest prayer of yours truly,
'MARIA BRANWELL.'
TO REV. PATRICK BRONTE, A.B., HARTSHEAD
'WOOD HOUSE GROVE, _October_ 3_rd_, 1812.
'How could my dear friend so cruelly disappoint me? Had he known how
much I had set my heart on having a letter this afternoon, and how
greatly I felt the disappointment when the bag arrived and I found
there was nothing for me, I am sure he would not have permitted a
little matter to hinder him. But whatever was the reason of your not
writing, I cannot believe it to have been neglect or unkindness,
therefore I do not in the least blame you, I only beg that in future
you will judge of my feelings by your own, and if possible never let
me expect a letter without receiving one. You know in my last which
I sent you at Bradford I said it would not be in my power to write
the next day, but begged I might be favoured with hearing from you on
Saturday, and you will not wonder that I hoped you would have
complied with this request. It has just occurred to my mind that it
is possible this note was not received; if so, you have felt
disappointed likewise; but I think this is not very probable, as the
old man is particularly careful, and I never heard of his losing
anything committed to his care. The note which I allude to was
written on Thursday morning, and you should have received it before
you left Bradford. I forget what its contents were, but I know it
was written in haste and concluded abruptly. Mr. Fennell talks of
visiting Mr. Morgan to-morrow. I cannot lose the opportunity of
sending this to the office by him as you will then have it a day
sooner, and if you have been daily expecting to hear from me,
twenty-four hours are of some importance. I really am concerned to
find that this, what many would deem trifling incident, has so much
disturbed my mind. I fear I should not have slept in peace to-night
if I had been deprived of this opportunity of relieving my mind by
scribbling to you, and now I lament that you cannot possibly receive
this till Monday. May I hope that there is now some intelligence on
the way to me? or must my patience be tried till I see you on
Wednesday? But what nonsense am I writing? Surely after this you
can have no doubt that you possess all my heart. Two months ago I
could not possibly have believed that you would ever engross so much
of my thoughts and affections, and far less could I have thought that
I should be so forward as to tell you so. I believe I must forbid
you to come here again unless you can assure me that you will not
steal any more of my regard. Enough of this; I must bring my pen to
order, for if I were to suffer myself to revise what I have written I
should be tempted to throw it in the fire, but I have determined that
you shall see my whole heart. I have not yet informed you that I
received your serio-comic note on Thursday afternoon, for which
accept my thanks.
'My cousin desires me to say that she expects a long poem on her
birthday, when she attains the important age of twenty-one. Mr.
Fennell joins with us in requesting that you will not fail to be here
on Wednesday, as it is decided that on Thursday we are to go to the
Abbey if the weather, etc., permits.
'_Sunday morning_.--I am not sure if I do right in adding a few lines
to-day, but knowing that it will give you pleasure I wish to finish
that you may have it to-morrow. I will just say that if my feeble
prayers can aught avail, you will find your labours this day both
pleasant and profitable, as they concern your own soul and the souls
of those to whom you preach. I trust in your hours of retirement you
will not forget to pray for me. I assure you I need every assistance
to help me forward; I feel that my heart is more ready to attach
itself to earth than heaven. I sometimes think there never was a
mind so dull and inactive as mine is with regard to spiritual things.
'I must not forget to thank you for the pamphlets and tracts which
you sent us from Bradford. I hope we shall make good use of them. I
must now take my leave. I believe I need scarcely assure you that I
am yours truly and very affectionately,
'MARIA BRANWELL.'
TO REV. PATRICK BRONTE, A.B., HARTSHEAD
'WOOD HOUSE GROVE, _October_ 21_st_ 1812.
'With the sincerest pleasure do I retire from company to converse
with him whom I love beyond all others. Could my beloved friend see
my heart he would then be convinced that the affection I bear him is
not at all inferior to that which he feels for me--indeed I sometimes
think that in truth and constancy it excels. But do not think from
this that I entertain any suspicions of your sincerity--no, I firmly
believe you to be sincere and generous, and doubt not in the least
that you feel all you express. In return, I entreat that you will do
me the justice to believe that you have not only a _very large
portion_ of my _affection_ and _esteem_, but _all_ that I am capable
of feeling, and from henceforth measure my feelings by your own.
Unless my love for you were very great how could I so contentedly
give up my home and all my friends--a home I loved so much that I
have often thought nothing could bribe me to renounce it for any
great length of time together, and friends with whom I have been so
long accustomed to share all the vicissitudes of joy and sorrow? Yet
these have lost their weight, and though I cannot always think of
them without a sigh, yet the anticipation of sharing with you all the
pleasures and pains, the cares and anxieties of life, of contributing
to your comfort and becoming the companion of your pilgrimage, is
more delightful to me than any other prospect which this world can
possibly present. I expected to have heard from you on Saturday
last, and can scarcely refrain from thinking you unkind to keep me in
suspense two whole days longer than was necessary, but it is well
that my patience should be sometimes tried, or I might entirely lose
it, and this would be a loss indeed! Lately I have experienced a
considerable increase of hopes and fears, which tend to destroy the
calm uniformity of my life. These are not unwelcome, as they enable
me to discover more of the evils and errors of my heart, and
discovering them I hope through grace to be enabled to correct and
amend them. I am sorry to say that my cousin has had a very serious
cold, but to-day I think she is better; her cough seems less, and I
hope we shall be able to come to Bradford on Saturday afternoon,
where we intend to stop till Tuesday. You may be sure we shall not
soon think of taking such another journey as the last. I look
forward with pleasure to Monday, when I hope to meet with you, for as
we are no _longer twain_ separation is painful, and to meet must ever
be attended with joy.
'_Thursday morning_.--I intended to have finished this before
breakfast, but unfortunately slept an hour too long. I am every
moment in expectation of the old man's arrival. I hope my cousin is
still better to-day; she requests me to say that she is much obliged
to you for your kind inquiries and the concern you express for her
recovery. I take all possible care of her, but yesterday she was
naughty enough to venture into the yard without her bonnet! As you
do not say anything of going to Leeds I conclude you have not been.
We shall most probably hear from the Dr. this afternoon. I am much
pleased to hear of his success at Bierly! O that you may both be
zealous and successful in your efforts for the salvation of souls,
and may your own lives be holy, and your hearts greatly blessed while
you are engaged in administering to the good of others! I should
have been very glad to have had it in my power to lessen your fatigue
and cheer your spirits by my exertions on Monday last. I will hope
that this pleasure is still reserved for me. In general, I feel a
calm confidence in the providential care and continued mercy of God,
and when I consider his past deliverances and past favours I am led
to wonder and adore. A sense of my small returns of love and
gratitude to him often abases me and makes me think I am little
better than those who profess no religion. Pray for me, my dear
friend, and rest assured that you possess a very very large portion
of the prayers, thoughts, and heart of yours truly,
'M. BRANWELL.
'Mr. Fennell requests Mr. Bedford to call on the man who has had
orders to make blankets for the Grove and desire him to send them as
soon as possible. Mr. Fennell will be greatly obliged to Mr. Bedford
if he will take this trouble.'
TO REV. PATRICK BRONTE, A.B., HARTSHEAD
'WOOD HOUSE GROVE, _November_ 18_th_, 1812.
'MY DEAR SAUCY PAT,--Now don't you think you deserve this epithet far
more than I do that which you have given me? I really know not what
to make of the beginning of your last; the winds, waves, and rocks
almost stunned me. I thought you were giving me the account of some
terrible dream, or that you had had a presentiment of the fate of my
poor box, having no idea that your lively imagination could make so
much of the slight reproof conveyed in my last. What will you say
when you get a _real_, _downright scolding_? Since you show such a
readiness to atone for your offences after receiving a mild rebuke, I
am inclined to hope you will seldom deserve a severe one. I accept
with pleasure your atonement, and send you a free and full
forgiveness. But I cannot allow that your affection is more deeply
rooted than mine. However, we will dispute no more about this, but
rather embrace every opportunity to prove its sincerity and strength
by acting in every respect as friends and fellow-pilgrims travelling
the same road, actuated by the same motives, and having in view the
same end. I think if our lives are spared twenty years hence I shall
then pray for you with the same, if not greater, fervour and delight
that I do now. I am pleased that you are so fully convinced of my
candour, for to know that you suspected me of a deficiency in this
virtue would grieve and mortify me beyond expression. I do not
derive any merit from the possession of it, for in me it is
constitutional. Yet I think where it is possessed it will rarely
exist alone, and where it is wanted there is reason to doubt the
existence of almost every other virtue. As to the other qualities
which your partiality attributes to me, although I rejoice to know
that I stand so high in your good opinion, yet I blush to think in
how small a degree I possess them. But it shall be the pleasing
study of my future life to gain such an increase of grace and wisdom
as shall enable me to act up to your highest expectations and prove
to you a helpmeet. I firmly believe the Almighty has set us apart
for each other; may we, by earnest, frequent prayer, and every
possible exertion, endeavour to fulfil His will in all things! I do
not, cannot, doubt your love, and here I freely declare I love you
above all the world besides. I feel very, very grateful to the great
Author of all our mercies for His unspeakable love and condescension
towards us, and desire "to show forth my gratitude not only with my
lips, but by my life and conversation." I indulge a hope that our
mutual prayers will be answered, and that our intimacy will tend much
to promote our temporal and eternal interest.
['I suppose you never expected to be much the richer for me, but I am
sorry to inform you that I am still poorer than I thought myself. I
mentioned having sent for my books, clothes, etc. On Saturday
evening about the time you were writing the description of your
imaginary shipwreck, I was reading and feeling the effects of a real
one, having then received a letter from my sister giving me an
account of the vessel in which she had sent my box being stranded on
the coast of Devonshire, in consequence of which the box was dashed
to pieces with the violence of the sea, and all my little property,
with the exception of a very few articles, swallowed up in the mighty
deep. If this should not prove the prelude to something worse, I
shall think little of it, as it is the first disastrous circumstance
which has occurred since I left my home], {49} and having been so
highly favoured it would be highly ungrateful in me were I to suffer
this to dwell much on my mind.
'Mr. Morgan was here yesterday, indeed he only left this morning. He
mentioned having written to invite you to Bierly on Sunday next, and
if you complied with his request it is likely that we shall see you
both here on Sunday evening. As we intend going to Leeds next week,
we should be happy if you would accompany us on Monday or Tuesday. I
mention this by desire of Miss Fennell, who begs to be remembered
affectionately to you. Notwithstanding Mr. Fennell's complaints and
threats, I doubt not but he will give you a cordial reception
whenever you think fit to make your appearance at the Grove. Which
you may likewise be assured of receiving from your ever truly
affectionate,
MARIA.
'Both the doctor and his lady very much wish to know what kind of
address we make use of in our letters to each other. I think they
would scarcely hit on _this_!!'
TO REV. PATRICK BRONTE, A.B., HARTSHEAD
'WOOD HOUSE GROVE, _December_ 5_th_, 1812.
'MY DEAREST FRIEND,--So you _thought_ that _perhaps_ I _might_ expect
to hear from you. As the case was so doubtful, and you were in such
great haste, you might as well have deferred writing a few days
longer, for you seem to suppose it is a matter of perfect
indifference to me whether I hear from you or not. I believe I once
requested you to judge of my feelings by your own--am I to think that
_you_ are thus indifferent? I feel very unwilling to entertain such
an opinion, and am grieved that you should suspect me of such a cold,
heartless, attachment. But I am too serious on the subject; I only
meant to rally you a little on the beginning of your last, and to
tell you that I fancied there was a coolness in it which none of your
former letters had contained. If this fancy was groundless, forgive
me for having indulged it, and let it serve to convince you of the
sincerity and warmth of my affection. Real love is ever apt to
suspect that it meets not with an equal return; you must not wonder
then that my fears are sometimes excited. My pride cannot bear the
idea of a diminution of your attachment, or to think that it is
stronger on my side than on yours. But I must not permit my pen so
fully to disclose the feelings of my heart, nor will I tell you
whether I am pleased or not at the thought of seeing you on the
appointed day.
'Miss Fennell desires her kind regards, and, with her father, is
extremely obliged to you for the trouble you have taken about the
carpet, and has no doubt but it will give full satisfaction. They
think there will be no occasion for the green cloth.
'We intend to set about making the cakes here next week, but as the
fifteen or twenty persons whom you mention live probably somewhere in
your neighbourhood, I think it will be most convenient for Mrs. B. to
make a small one for the purpose of distributing there, which will
save us the difficulty of sending so far.
'You may depend on my learning my lessons as rapidly as they are
given me. I am already tolerably perfect in the A B C, etc. I am
much obliged to you for the pretty little hymn which I have already
got by heart, but cannot promise to sing it scientifically, though I
will endeavour to gain a little more assurance.
'Since I began this Jane put into my hands Lord Lyttelton's _Advice
to a Lady_. When I read those lines, "Be never cool reserve with
passion joined, with caution choose, but then be fondly kind, etc."
my heart smote me for having in some cases used too much reserve
towards you. Do you think you have any cause to complain of me? If
you do, let me know it. For were it in my power to prevent it, I
would in no instance occasion you the least pain or uneasiness. I am
certain no one ever loved you with an affection more pure, constant,
tender, and ardent than that which I feel. Surely this is not saying
too much; it is the truth, and I trust you are worthy to know it. I
long to improve in every religious and moral quality, that I may be a
help, and if possible an ornament to you. Oh let us pray much for
wisdom and grace to fill our appointed stations with propriety, that
we may enjoy satisfaction in our own souls, edify others, and bring
glory to the name of Him who has so wonderfully preserved, blessed,
and brought us together.
'If there is anything in the commencement of this which looks like
pettishness, forgive it; my mind is now completely divested of every
feeling of the kind, although I own I am sometimes too apt to be
overcome by this disposition.
'Let me have the pleasure of hearing from you again as soon as
convenient. This writing is uncommonly bad, but I too am in haste.
'Adieu, my dearest.--I am your affectionate and sincere
'MARIA.'
Mr. Bronte was at Hartshead, where he married, for five years, and there
his two eldest children, Maria and Elizabeth, were born. He then moved
to Thornton, near Bradford, where Charlotte was born on the 21st of April
1816, Branwell in 1817, Emily in 1818, and Anne in 1819. In 1820 the
family removed to the parsonage of Haworth, and in 1821 the poor mother
was dead. A year or two later Miss Elizabeth Branwell came from Penzance
to act as a mother to her orphaned nephew and nieces. There is no reason
to accept the theory that Miss Branwell was quite as formidable or
offensive a personage as the Mrs. Read in _Jane Eyre_. That she was a
somewhat rigid and not over demonstrative woman, we may take for granted.
The one letter to her of any importance that I have seen--it is printed
in Mrs. Gaskell's life--was the attempt of Charlotte to obtain her
co-operation in the projected visit to a Brussels school. Miss Branwell
provided the money readily enough it would seem, and one cannot doubt
that in her later years she was on the best of terms with her nieces.
There may have been too much discipline in childhood, but discipline
which would now be considered too severe was common enough at the
beginning of the century. The children, we may be sure, were left
abundantly alone. The writing they accomplished in their early years
would sufficiently demonstrate that. Miss Branwell died in 1842; and
from her will, which I give elsewhere, it will be seen that she behaved
very justly to her three nieces.
The reception by Mr. Bronte of his children's literary successes has been
very pleasantly recorded by Charlotte. He was proud of his daughters,
and delighted with their fame. He seems to have had no small share of
their affection. Charlotte loved and esteemed him. There are hundreds
of her letters, in many of which are severe and indeed unprintable things
about this or that individual; but of her father these letters contain
not one single harsh word. She wrote to him regularly when absent. Not
only did he secure the affection of his daughter, but the people most
intimately associated with him next to his own children gave him a
lifelong affection and regard. Martha Brown, the servant who lived with
him until his death, always insisted that her old master had been
grievously wronged, and that a kinder, more generous, and in every way
more worthy man had never lived. Nancy Garrs, another servant, always
spoke of Mr. Bronte as 'the kindest man who ever drew breath,' and as a
good and affectionate father. Forty years have gone by since Charlotte
Bronte died; and thirty-six years have flown since Mr. Nicholls left the
deathbed of his wife's father; but through all that period he has
retained the most kindly memories of one with whom his life was
intimately associated for sixteen years, with whom at one crisis of his
life, as we shall see, he had a serious difference, but whom he ever
believed to have been an entirely honourable and upright man.
A lady visitor to Haworth in December 1860 did not, it is true, carry
away quite so friendly an impression. 'I have been to see old Mr.
Bronte,' she writes, 'and have spent about an hour with him. He is
completely confined to his bed, but talks hopefully of leaving it again
when the summer comes round. I am afraid that it will not be leaving it
as he plans, poor old man! He is touchingly softened by illness; but
still talks in his pompous way, and mingles moral remarks and somewhat
stale sentiments with his conversation on ordinary subjects.' This is
severe, but after all it was a literary woman who wrote it. On the whole
we may safely assume, with the evidence before us, that Mr. Bronte was a
thoroughly upright and honourable man who came manfully through a
somewhat severe life battle. That is how his daughters thought of him,
and we cannot do better than think with them. {53}
Mr. Bronte died on June 7, 1861, and his funeral in Haworth Church is
described in the _Bradford Review_ of the following week:--
'Great numbers of people had collected in the churchyard, and a few
minutes before noon the corpse was brought out through the eastern
gate of the garden leading into the churchyard. The Rev. Dr. Burnet,
Vicar of Bradford, read the funeral service, and led the way into the
church, and the following clergymen were the bearers of the coffin:
The Rev. Dr. Cartman of Skipton; Rev. Mr. Sowden of Hebden Bridge;
the Incumbents of Cullingworth, Oakworth, Morton, Oxenhope, and St.
John's Ingrow. The chief mourners were the Rev. Arthur Bell
Nicholls, son-in-law of the deceased; Martha Brown, the housekeeper;
and her sister; Mrs. Brown, and Mrs. Wainwright. There were several
gentlemen followed the corpse whom we did not know. All the shops in
Haworth were closed, and the people filled every pew, and the aisles
in the church, and many shed tears during the impressive reading of
the service for the burial of the dead, by the vicar. The body of
Mr. Bronte was laid within the altar rails, by the side of his
daughter Charlotte. He is the last that can be interred inside of
Haworth Church. On the coffin was this inscription: "Patrick Bronte,
died June 7th, 1861, aged 84 years."'
His will, which was proved at Wakefield, left the bulk of his property,
as was natural, to the son-in-law who had faithfully served and tended
him for the six years which succeeded Charlotte Bronte's death.
Extracted from the Principal Registry of the Probate Divorce and
Admiralty Division of the High Court of Justice.
_Being of sound mind and judgment_, _in the name of God the Father_,
_Son_, _and Holy Ghost_, _I_, PATRICK BRONTE, B.A., _Incumbent of
Haworth_, _in the Parish of Bradford and county of York_, _make this
my last Will and Testament_: _I leave forty pounds to be equally
divided amongst all my brothers and sisters to whom I gave
considerable sums in times past_; _And I direct the same sum of forty
pounds to be sent for distribution to Mr. Hugh Bronte_,
_Ballinasceaugh_, _near Loughbrickland_, _Ireland_; _I leave thirty
pounds to my servant_, _Martha Brown_, _as a token of regard for long
and faithful services to me and my children_; _To my beloved and
esteemed son-in-law_, _the Rev. Arthur Bell Nicholls_, B.A., _I leave
and bequeath the residue of my personal estate of every description
which I shall be possessed of at my death for his own absolute
benefit_; _And I make him my sole executor_; _And I revoke all former
and other Wills_, _in witness whereof I_, _the said_ PATRICK BRONTE,
_have to this my last Will_, _contained in this sheet of paper_, _set
my hand this twentieth day of June_, _one thousand eight hundred and
fifty-five_.
PATRICK BRONTE.--_Signed and acknowledged by the said_ PATRICK BRONTE
_as his Will in the presence of us present at the same time_, _and
who in his presence and in the presence of each other have hereunto
subscribed our names as witnesses_: JOSEPH REDMAN, ELIZA BROWN.
The Irish relatives are not forgotten, and indeed this will gives the
most direct evidence of the fact that for the sixty years that he had
been absent from his native land he had always kept his own country, or
at least his relatives in County Down, sufficiently in mind.