CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE Cornell University Library PR 4165.A2 1887 V.7 Life and works of Charlotte Bronte and 3 1924 016 652 426 Date Due APR 8 197(1 M MfiE«-54ffe-1fi-fl i Bit W "Tz^.^sm- -i»- 'AMQ3^- m=m=^ PRINTED IN &5 NO. 23233 The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924016652426 fjftlclim ond. BJi-dol. Ai'.v/ THE HAWORTH EDITION THE LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE By MRS. GASKELL WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY CLEMENT K. SHORTER ILLUSTRATED NBW YORK AND LONDON HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 1900 J"? 6 v-7 . 5 Copyright, 1900, by Clemkht K. Shoktrb. CONTENTS PAGE Introduction xvii A Bronte Chronology xxxv CHAPTEE I Description of Keighley and its Neighbourhood — Haworth Parson- age and Church— Tablets of the Bronte family 1 CHAPTER II Characteristics of Yorkshiremen — Manufactures of the West Rid- ing — Descendants of the Puritans— A characteristic incident — Former state of the country — Isolated country houses— Two Yorkshire squires— Rude sports of the people — Rev. William Grimshaw, Curate of Haworth — His opinion and treatment of his parishioners — The 'arvill,' or funeral feasts — Haworth Field- Kirk — Church riots at Haworth on the appointment of Mr. Redhead as Perpetual Curate — Characteristics of the popula- tion — Arrival of Mr. Bronte at Haworth 11 CHAPTER III The Rev. Patrick Bronte — His marriage with Miss Branwell of Penzance — Social customs in Penzance — The Branwell family , — Letters of Miss Bran well to Mr. Bronte — Marriage of Mrs. Bronte — Thornton, the birth-place of Charlotte Bronte — Re- moval to Haworth — Description of the Parsonage — The people of Haworth — The Bronte family at Haworth — Early training of the little Brontes — Characteristics of Mr. Bronte — Death of Mrs. Bronte — Studies of the Bronte family — Mr. Bronte's ac- count of his children 36 viii LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE CHAPTER IV PAGE Miss Branwell comes to Haworth — Account of Cowan Bridge School, established by the Rev. Cams Wilson— Originals of 'Miss Scatcherd,' 'Helen Burns,' and 'Miss Temple' — Out- break of fever in the school — Characteristics of the Bronte sis- ters — Deaths of Maria and Elizabeth Bronte 61 CHAPTER V The old servant Tabby — Patrick Branwell Bronte — Charlotte Bronte's catalogue of her juvenile productions, with specimen page — Extracts from the introduction to ' Tales of the Islanders ' — 'History of the Year 1829' — Charlotte's taste for art — Ex- tracts from other early writings in MS. — Charlotte's mental tendencies and home duties — A strange occurrence at the Par- sonage — A youthful effusion in verse 82 CHAPTER VI Personal description of Charlotte Bronte — Miss W 's school at Roe Head — Oakwell Hall and its legends— Charlotte's first ap- pearance at school — Her youthful character and political feel- ings — School days at Roe Head — Mr. Cartwright and the Lud- dites — Mr. Roberson of Heald's Hall — Chapel scenes and other characteristics of Heckmondwike and Gomersall 96 CHAPTER VII Charlotte Bronte leaves school, and returns home to instruct her sisters — Studies and books at the Parsonage — Visit from a school friend — Letters to a friend visiting London for the first time — On the choice of books — On dancing — Character and tal- ents of Branwell Bronte — Plans for his advancement — Prospect of separation 122 CHAPTER VIII Charlotte as teacher at Miss W 's school — Emily's home-sick- ness — Letters indicative of Charlotte's despondency and mel- ancholy — The sisters at home — Winter evenings at Haworth — Charlotte writes to Southey, and Branwell to Wordsworth — Branwell's letter and verses — Prospect of losing the society of a friend— Charlotte's correspondence with Southey — Letter writ- CONTENTS ix Page ten in a state of despondency — Accident to the old servant, and characteristic kindness of the Brontes — Symptoms of illness in A.nne Bronte — Charlotte's first proposal of marriage— Charlotte and Anne go out as governesses — Charlotte's experience of gov- erness life — Advent of the first Curate at Haworth — A second proposal of marriage — A visit to the sea-side 142 CHAPTER IX Branwell Bronte still at home — Miss Branwell and her nieces — Plan of keeping a school — Charlotte commences her first story — The Curates at Haworth — Charlotte's sentiments on mar- riage — She seeks and obtains a situation as governess . . . 188 CHAPTER X Second experience of governess life — Project of a school revived, and plans for its realisation — Miss W 's offer of her school declined — Arrangements for leaving England 206 CHAPTER XI Mr. Bronte accompanies his daughters to Brussels — The Pension- nat of Madame Heger, and its inmates — M. Heger's account of Charlotte and Emily Bronte — Charlotte's account of the school — Her exercises in French composition — Her impres- sions of the Belgians — Arrangements of the pensionnat — Char- lotte's conduct as English teacher — Loss of a young friend — Death of Miss Branwell, and return to Haworth — M. Heger's letters to Mr. Bronte 223 CHAPTER XII Charlotte returns to Brussels — Her account of Carnival and Lent — Solitariness of the English teacher in the pensionnat — Her devoir ' Sur la Mort de Napoleon ' — Depression, loneliness, and home-sickness — Estrangement from Madame Heger, and re- turn to Haworth — Traits of kindness — Emily and her dog ' Keeper • 258 CHAPTER XIII Plan of school-keeping revived and abandoned— Deplorable con- duct of Branwell Bronte, and its consequences 283 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE CHAPTER XIV FAGX Publication of the poems of Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell— Corre- spondence with the publishers — Letters to Miss W and other friends— Letter of advice to a young friend 298 CHAPTER XV Mr. Bronte afflicted with blindness, and relieved by a successful operation for cataract — Charlotte Bronte's first work of fiction, 'The Professor' — She commences 'Jane Eyre' — Circum- stances attending its composition — Her ideas of a heroine — Her attachment to home — Ha worth in December — A letter of confession and counsel 316 CHAPTER XVI State of Charlotte Bronte's health at the commencement of 1847 — Family trials—' Wuthering Heights ' and ' Agnes Grey ' accept- ed by a publisher — 'The Professor' rejected — Completion of ' Jane Eyre,' its reception and publication — The reviews of 'Jane Eyre,' and the author's comments on them — Her father's reception of the book — Public interest excited by ' Jane Eyre ' — Dedioation of the second edition to Mr. Thackeray — Corre- spondence of Currer Bell with Mr. Lewes on 'Jane Eyre' — Publication of ' Wuthering Heights' and ' Agnes Grey ' — Miss Bronte's account of the authoress of ' Wuthering Heights ' — Do- mestic anxieties of the Bronte sisters — Currer Bell's corre- spondence with Mr. Lewes — Unhealthy state of Haworth — Charlotte Bronte on the revolutions of 1848 — Her repudiation of authorship — Anne Bronte's second tale, ' The Tenant of Wildfell Hall ' — Misunderstanding as to the individuality of the three Bells, and its results — Currer and Acton Bell visit London — Charlotte Bronte's account of her visit — The Chapter CofEee-House — The Clergy Daughters' School at Casterton — Death of Branwell Bronte — Illness and death of Emily Bronte 330 CHAPTER XVII The ' Quarterly Review ' on ' Jane Eyre ' — Severe illness of Anne Bronte— Her letter and last verses — She is removed to Scar- borough — Her last hours, and death and burial there — Char- lotte's return to Haworth, and her loneliness ...... 395 CONTENTS xi CHAPTER XVIII PASS Commencement and completion of 'Shirley' — Originals of the characters, and circumstances under which it was written — Loss on railway shares — Letters to Mr. Lewes and other friends on 'Shirley,' and the reviews of It — Miss Bronte visits London, meets Mr. Thackeray, and makes the acquaintance of Miss Mar- tineau — Her impressions of literary men 423 CHAPTER XIX 'Currer Bell' identified as Miss Bronte at Haworth and the vi- cinity — Her letter to Mr. Lewes on his review of ' Shirley ' — Sol- itude, heavy mental sadness and anxiety — She visits Sir J. and Lady Kay-Shuttleworth — Her comments on critics, and re- marks on Thackeray's 'Pendennis' and Scott's 'Suggestions on Female Education ' — Opinions of * Shirley ' by Yorkshire readers . . . . * 446 CHAPTER XX An unhealthy spring at Haworth — Miss Bronte's proposed visit to London — Her remarks on ' The Leader ' — Associations of her walks on the moors — Letter to an unknown admirer of her works — Incidents of her visit to London — Letter to her servant Martha — Impressions of a visit to Scotland — Portrait of Miss Bronte, by Richmond — Anxiety about her father 463 CHAPTER XXI Visit to Sir J. and Lady Kay-Shuttleworth — The biographer's im- pressions of Miss Bronte — Miss Bronte's account of her visit to the lakes of Westmoreland — Her disinclination for acquaint- ance and visiting — Remarks on ' Woman's Mission,' Tenny- son's 'In Memoriam,' &c. — Impressions of her visit to Scot- land — Remarks on a review in the ' Palladium ' 480 CHAPTER XXII Intended republication of ' Wuthering Heights' and 'Agnes Grey' —Reaction after her visit to Scotland — Her first meeting with Mr. Lewes — Her opinion of Balzac and George Sand — A char- acteristic incident — Account of a friendly visit to Haworth Parsonage — Remarks on 'The Roman,' by Sydney Dobell, and on the character of Dr. Arnold — Letter to Mr. Dobell . . . 492 xii LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BRONTE CHAPTER XXIII PAGE Miss Bronte's visit to Miss Martineau, and estimate of her hostess —Miss Martineau's anecdotes of her guest— Remarks on Miss Martineau's new work and Mr. Ruskin's ' Stones of Venice ' — Preparations for another visit to London— Letter to Mr. Sydney Bobell : the moors in autumn — Mr. Thackeray's second lecture at Willis's Rooms, and sensation produced by Currer Bell's appearance there — Her account of her visit to London — She breakfasts with Mr. Rogers, visits the Great Exhibition, and sees Lord Westminster's pictures — Return to Haworth, and letter thence — Her comment on Mr. Thackeray's lecture — Counsel on development of character 508 CHAPTER XXIV Remarks on friendship — Letter to Mrs. Gaskell on her and Miss Martineau's views of the Great Exhibition and Mr. Thack- eray's lecture, and on the ' Saint's.Tragedy ' — Miss Bronte's feeling towards children — Her comments on an article in the ' Westminster Review ' on the Emancipation of Women — More illness at Haworth Parsonage — Letter on emigration — Periodi- cal returns of illness— Miss Bronte's impressions of her visit to London — Progress of 'Villette' — Her increasing illness and sufferings during winter — Her letter on Mr. Thackeray's ' Esmond ' — Revival of sorrows and accession of low spirits — Remarks on some recent books — Retrospect of the winter of 1851-2— Letter to Mrs. Gaskell on ' Ruth ' 545 CHAPTER XXV Miss Bronte revisits Scarborough — Serious illness of her father — Her own illness—' Villette ' nearly completed — Further remarks on ' Esmond ' and ' Uncle Tom's Cabin ' — Letter respecting 'Villette' — Another letter about 'Villette' — More remarks on 'Esmond' — Completion of 'Villette' — Instance of extreme sensibility 586 CHAPTER XXVI The biographer's difficulty — Deep and enduring attachment of Mr. Nicholls for Miss Bronte — Instance of her self-abnegation — She again visits London — Impressions of this visit — Letter to Mrs, Gaskell — Reception of the critiques on ' Villette '—Cor- CONTENTS xiii rum respondence with Miss Martineau— Letter on Mr. Thackeray's portrait— Visit of the Bishop of Ripon to Haworth Parsonage — Miss Bronte's wish to see the unfavourable critiques on her works — Her nervous shyness of strangers, and its cause— Let- ter on Mr. Thackeray's lectures 602 CHAPTER XXVII Letters to Mrs. Gaskell — The biographer's account of her visit to Haworth, and reminiscences of conversations with Miss Bronte — Letters from Miss Bronte to her friends — Her engagement to Mr. Nicholls, and preparations for the marriage — The marriage ceremony and wedding tour — Her happiness in the marriage state — New symptoms of illness, and their cause — The two last letters written by Mrs. Nicholls — An alarming change — Her death 625 CHAPTER XXVIII Mourners at the funeral — Conclusion 654 INDEX 657 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Portrait of Mrs. Gaskell Frontispiece Facsimile of the Title-page of the First Edition p. xxxvii Haworth Old Church as the Bronte Family knew It To face p. 8 The Parsonage at Haworth .... „ 48 Facsimile Page of MS. of 'The Secret' „ 84 The Heger ' Pensionnat/ Eue dTsa- belle, Brussels : Central Avenue of the Garden . „ 228 The Forbidden Alley „ 248 Facsimile of a Letter from Charlotte Bronte to Mrs. Smith „ 452 Portrait of the Rev. Patrick Bronte . „ 496 Portrait of the Eev. A. B. Nicholls . . „ 642 The following Illustrations are reproduced from photographs taken by Mr. W. R. Bland, of Duffield, Derby, in con- junction with Mr. C. Barrow Keene, of Derby : Distant View of Haworth To face p. 4 Haworth Village, Main Street ... „ 30 xv xvi LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE House where the Rev. Patrick Bronte resided, at hlghtown, when curate of Hartshead-cum-Clifton .... To face p. 38 Roe Head „ 98 Haworth Moor — The Bronte Bridge . „ 126 Haworth Moor — Showing Charlotte Bronte's Chair „ 336 Haworth Old Hall „ 456 INTRODUCTION By universal acclamation the biographies of Johnson by Bos well and of Scott by Lockhart are accepted as the foremost achievements in English literary biography. Between these books and all other literary biographies in our language there is a great gulf fixed. Johnson's biographer had a subject peculiarly imposing. The king of later eighteenth-century literature, the oracle of his age, the friend of Burke and of Goldsmith must of necessity have made a fascinating topic for succeeding times. In his biographer also he was fortunate. A literary expert, a friend of years, of boundless zeal and enthusiasm, and well-nigh limitless indiscretion, Boswell alone in his era had the qualifications, as he had also the subject-matter for a perfect biography. Scarcely less fortunate are Ave in the ' Life of Scott.' The greatest figure in our nineteenth - century litera- ture — with the possible exception of Byron — Sir "Walter Scott was not only its most successful novelist and one of its most popular poets, but he had surveyed many fields of learning with amazing skill and industry. He had been brought into contact with all the notable men of his age. The biographer of Napoleon Bonaparte, the historian of Scotland, the editor of Swift and' of Dryden — scarcely one of his ninety volumes but still survives xviii LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE to charm and instruct. Lockhart, the biographer and son-in-law of Scott, had also every qualification for the task of biographer. His ' Life of Burns ' still remains the most readable book on that poet — at least to the Southron. His novels, his criticisms, his many forms of literary activity had provided the precise equipment for an adequate estimate of Sir Walter Scott. Of Byron and of Shelley, of Cowper and of Wordsworth we have had many biographies, and shall probably have many more as new material concerning one or other of these writers is brought together by the enthusiast ; but over the biographies of Johnson and of Scott the word 'finality' is written exceeding large. With equal confidence may it be asserted that that word ' finality ' is applicable to Mrs. Gaskell's ' Life of Charlotte Bronte.' There are those among the critical writers of to-day to whom the name of Charlotte Bronte conveys no magical significance, who have not been thrilled, as Thackeray was thrilled in one generation and Mr. Swinburne in another, by the extraordinary power and genius of the writer, the pathetically dramatic career of the woman. With these it may provoke a smile that any comparison should be instituted between the biography of Charlotte Bronte and the biographies of Johnson and of Scott. Her range of ideas was so much more limited, her influence so trivial in comparison, her work, in quantity at least, so far less significant. When this is admitted the fact remains that Charlotte Bronte wrote novels which more than forty years after her death are eagerly read; novels which have now taken an indisputable place as classics, and classics not of a type that is limited to a handful of readers, but INTRODUCTION xix which still sell in countless thousands and in edition after edition. Whatever may have been the sorrows ot her life Charlotte Bronte was so far fortunate in death in that her biography was written by the one woman among her contemporaries who had the most genuine fitness for the task. The result was to solidify the reputation of both. Mrs. Gaskell will live not only by a number of interesting novels but also by this memoir of her friend. Charlotte Bronte would have lived in any case by her four powerful stories; but her fame has been made thrice secure through the ever popular biography of her from the pen of Mrs. Gaskell, of which we have here a new edition. If it be granted that Mrs. Gaskell's ' Life of Charlotte Bronte ' is a classic, it may be urged with pertinence that the rough hand of editor or annotator should never be placed upon a classic without apology. Justification may, however, be found, it is hoped, in the addition of new material unknown to the original author. If an apology is due it must be rendered first of all to the memory of Mrs. Gaskell and afterwards to her surviv- ing friends and relatives. The editor has so far recog- nised this in that he has aimed at adding no single note or line that Mrs. Gaskell, were she still alive, would not, he believes, have cordially approved. He would urge further that Boswell's 'Johnson' was edited within a few years of its author's death, with the result that no edition is now published that lacks the notes of Edmund Malone. 1 Malone added new letters and new facts, and 1 Full recognition has never been rendered to Malone's services. xx LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE thereby justified himself. "Within a less lengthy period than has elapsed since the ' Life of Charlotte Bronte ' was first published Boswell was edited— and, as Ma- caulay thought, too much edited— by Croker. It is an interesting fact, indeed— although it can have no analogy in the present case — that Boswell's ' Johnson ' never sold in any considerable numbers until Croker had taken it in hand. The first editor thought it matter for congratu- lation that ' nearly four thousand copies ' had been sold in thirteen years from the date of original publication. » Mrs. GaskelPs book has not failed of a large sale, and, it may be admitted, does very well as it stands. A jus- tification for an annotated edition is not, however, diffi- cult. Mrs. Gaskell, writing within., a year or two of Miss Bronte's death, was compelled to reticences many of which have long ceased to have weight. Documents were withheld in many quarters which have since been handed to the present writer, and a number of Miss Bronte's admirers have written books in which they have supplemented in one form or another Mrs. Gas- kelPs narrative. Here is a list of the books to which I wish to acknowledge some indebtedness : — Charlotte Bronte : a Monograph. By T. Wemyss Reid. Macmillan & Co., 1877. A Note on Charlotte Bronte. By Algernon Charles Swinburne. Chatto & Windus, 1877. Haworth, Past and Present. By J. Horsfall Turner. Brighouse: Jowett, 1879. Within a few pages he throws light on Johnson's brother, corrects Boswell's carelessly picturesque remark that Johnson married a wife double Ms age, and moderates the biographer's disposition to toady to Lady Macclesfield. INTRODUCTION xxi 4. Pictures of the Past. By Francis H. Grundy. Griffith & Farran, 1879. 5. Emily Bronte. By A. Mary F. Robinson. W. H.Allen & Co. ,1883. 6. The Birthplace of Charlotte Bronte. By William Scruton. Leeds : Fletcher, 1884 7. An Sour with Charlotte Bronte. By Laura C. Holloway. Funk & Wagnalls, 1884. 8. The Bronte Family, with special reference to Patrick Branwell Bronte. By Francis A. Leyland. Hurst & Blackett, 1886. 9. The Life of Charlotte Bronte. By Augustine Birrell, Q.C., M.P. Walter Scott, 1887. 10. Tlie Bronte Country : its Topography, Antiquities, and History. By J. A. Erskine Stuart. Longmans, Green, & Co., 1888. 11. The Literary Shrines of Yorkshire. By J. A. Erskine Stuart. Longmans, Green, & Co., 1892. 12. The Brontes in Ireland. By William Wright, D.D. Hodder & Stoughton, 1893. 13. The Father of the Brontes. By W. W. Yates. Leeds: F. R. Spark & Son, 1897. 14. Brontiana: tlie Ben. Patrick Bronte, A.B., His Collected Works and Life. Edited, &c, by J. Horsfall Turner. Bingley • T. Harrison & Sons, 1898. 15. Tlie Bronte Homeland. By J. Ramsden. The Roxburghe Press, 1898. 16. Thornton and the Brontes. By William Scruton. Bradford: John Dale, 1898. 17. Ihe Bronte Society Publications. Edited by Butler Wood. Brad- ford : M. Field & Sons, 1895-99. To each of the above works I am indebted for certain facts incorporated in the notes, and I thank their authors accordingly. I have also to thank Mr. George Smith, of Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co., for kindly plac- ing at my disposal a number of hitherto unpublished letters by Miss Bronte addressed either to him or to his firm. These new letters should alone, I think, give special interest to this new edition. Certain brief ex- tracts from my own book 1 on the Brontes will also 1 Charlotte Bronte and her Circle, by Clement K. Shorter (Hodder & Stoughton). xxii LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE serve, I trust, to fill in sundry gaps in Mrs. Gaskell's singularly fascinating story. The life of Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell, Charlotte Bronte's biographer, has never been written, and the world is the poorer by a pleasing picture of womanliness and sympathetic charm in the literary life. A brief sketch by Professor A. W. Ward in the 'Dictionary of National Biography,' an occasional article by an admirer in this or that magazine, and now and again some more or less biographical ' Introduction ' to one or other of her novels — these sources furnish the few items of information that the world has been permitted to learn of one who must have been a singularly upright and noble-minded woman. Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell was the daughter of William Stevenson. She was born in Chelsea on September 29, 181$ and died at Holybourne, near Alton, in Hampshire, November 12, 1865. In 1832 she married the Eev. William Gaskell, a Unitarian minister of Manchester, and she had several children. This, in as few words as possible, is all that need be said here of her private life, apart from its relation to Charlotte Bronte. Of her books the first, 'Mary Barton,' was published anonymously in 1848, and ' Wives and Daughters ' was published in book form after her death in 1866. In the interval she had writ- ten 'Kuth' (1853), 'Cranford' (1853), 'North and South' (1855), 'Lizzie Leigh' (1855), 'Sylvia's Lovers' (1863), and 'Cousin Phillis' (1865). It is, however, with the ' Life of Charlotte Bronte,' written in 1856 and published in 1857, that we have here mainly to do. Much of the correspondence which gave rise to Mrs. INTRODUCTION xxiii Gaskell's biography has already been published,' and it is therefore scarcely necessary to recapitulate. The letter in which Mr. Bronte definitely requested Mrs. Gaskell to undertake a biography of his daughter has, however, but just been unearthed." It is an interesting contribution to the bibliography of the subject. Charlotte Bronte had died on the 3rd of the previous March : — TO MRS. GASKELL, MANCHESTER. Haworth, near Keighley : June 16, 1855. My dear Madam, — Finding that a great many scribblers, as well as some clever and truthful writers, have published articles in newspapers and tracts respecting my dear daughter Charlotte since her death, and seeing that many things that have been stated are untrue, but more false (sic) ; and having reason to think that some may venture to write her life who will be ill-qualified for the undertaking, I can see no better plan under the circumstances than to apply to some established author to write a brief account of her life and to make some remarks on her works. You seem to me to be the best qualified for doing what I wish should be done. If, therefore, you will be so kind as to publish a long or short account of her life and works, just as you may deem expedient and proper, Mr. Nicholls and I will give you such information as you may require. I should expect and request that you would affix your name, so that the work might obtain a wide circulation and be handed down to the latest times. Whatever profits might arise from the sale would, of conrse, belong to yon. You are . the first to whom I have applied. Mr. Nicholls approves of the step I have taken, and could my daughter 1 In Charlotte Bronte and Tier Circle. ' The original is in the possession of Mr. George Smith, of Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co. xxiv LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE speak from the tomb I feel certain she would land our choice. Give my respectful regards to Mr. Gaskell and your family, and Believe me, my dear Madam, Yours very respectfully and truly, P. Bkoutb. Mrs. Gaskell, it is clear, accepted with zest. She had admired Charlotte Bronte as a woman as well as a novelist. Miss Bronte had been encouraged by her letters before the two had met. Here, for example, are extracts from letters by Charlotte to her friend Mr. Williams : — 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 Mar- tineau'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. 1 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 sym- pathy 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 with- holds me from communicating further with these ladies at 1 Letter to W. S. Williams dated November 20, 1849. 1NTK0DUCTI0N xxv present, but I now know how they are inclined to me — I know how my writings hare affected their wise and pure minds. The knowledge is present support and, perhaps, may be future armour. 1 Miss Bronte and Mrs. Gaskell first met at the house of a common friend, Sir James Kay -Shuttle worth, the Briery, "Windermere, on August 10, 1850. The friend- ship then formed was cemented by an exchange of visits. Miss Bronte visited Mrs. Gaskell in her Man- chester home first in 1851, and afterwards in 1853, and in the autumn of 1853 Mrs. Gaskell stayed at the Par- sonage at Haworth. Other aspects of their friendship are pleasantly treated of in the ' Life.' To trace the growth, bibliographically, of Mrs. Gas- kell's famous book is an easy task. From the moment that she received Mr. Bronte's request the author of ' Mary Barton ' set to work with enthusiasm. She wrote letter after letter to every friend connected with the Bronte story — to Mr. George Smith, the publisher, to Mr. Smith Williams, that publisher's literary adviser, to Ellen Nussey and Mary Taylor, Charlotte Bronte's old schoolfellows at Koe Head, to Margaret "Wooler, her old schoolmistress, and to Laetitia "Wheelwright, the friend of her Brussels life. All the correspondence has been preserved, and copies of it are in my hands. It relates with delightful enthusiasm the writer's experience in biography-making. Her visits to Miss Nussey and Miss "Wooler secured to her a number of Miss Bronte's letters. She thus acknowledges — on Sept. 6, 1856 — those that Miss Nussey lent to her : — 1 Letter to W. S. Williams dated November 29, 1849. xxvi LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE I have read once over all the letters you so kindly en- trusted me with, and I don't think even you, her most cherished friend, could wish the impression on me to he different from what it is, that she was one to study the path of duty well, and, having ascertained what it was right to do, to follow out her idea strictly. They gave me a very beautiful idea of her character. I like the one yon sent to-day much. I shall be glad to see any others you will allow me to see. I am sure the more fully she — Char- lotte Bronte — the friend, the daughter, the sister, the wife, is known, and known where need be in her own words, the more highly will she be appreciated. There are many sentences of this character in the cor- respondence. She is particularly pleased with the letters to Mr. W. Smith "Williams ; ' They are very fine and genial.' ' Miss Bronte seems heartily at her ease with him,' she says to another friend. ' I like the series of letters which you have sent better than any others that I have seen,' she writes to Mr. Williams, ' the subjects, too, are very interesting. How beautifully she speaks, for in- stance, of her wanderings on the moors after her sister's death.' But Mrs. Gaskell's energy did not confine itself to obtaining correspondence. She went to Ha worth again and again, staying at the ' Black Bull ' with her hus- band. She visited the Chapter Coffee -House in Pater- noster Bow, ' where Charlotte and Anne Bronte took up their abode on that first hurried rush to London.' ' She went to Brussels and had a prolonged conversation with M. Heger ' and very much indeed I both like and respect him.' Never surely was a more conscientious 1 The Chapter Coffee-House was destroyed a few months after Mrs. Gaskell's visit. INTRODUCTION xxvii effort to produce a biography in which thoroughness and accuracy should have a part with good writing and sympathetic interpretation. At first, indeed, it seemed as if a perfect success crowned Mrs. Gaskell's efforts. The book was published in two volumes, under the title of the ' Life of Charlotte Bronte,' in the spring of 1857. It went into a second edition immediately, .the addition of a single foot note concerning ' Tabby ' being the only variation between the two issues. Not only the public but the intimate relations and friends appeared to be satisfied. Mr. Bronte wrote the following letter to Mr. George Smith, of Smith, Elder, & Co. :— TO GEORGE SMITH, ESQ., CORNHILL, LONDON. Ha worth, near Keighley : March 30, 1857. Dear Sir, — I thank you and Mrs. Gaskell for the bio- graphical books you have sent me. I have read them with a high degree of melancholy interest, and consider them amongst the ablest, most interesting, and best works of the kind. Mrs. Gaskell, though moving in what was to her a new line — a somewhat critical matter — has done herself great credit by this biographical work, which I doubt not will place her higher in literary fame even than she stood before. Notwithstanding that I have formed my own opinion, from which the critics cannot shake me, I am cu- rious to know what they may say. I will thank you, there- fore, to send me two or three newspapers containing criti- cisms on the biography, and I will remit the price of them to you in letter stamps. I remain, dear Sir, yours respectfully and truly, P. BrontE. And to the author of the book he wrote with even stronger expressions of satisfaction— xxviii LIFE OF CHAKLOTTE BRONTE TO MES. GASKELL, MANCHESTEE. Haworth, near Keighley : April 3, 1857. My dear Madam, — I thank you for the books you have sent me containing the Memoir of my daughter. I have perused them with a degree of pleasure and pain which can be known only to myself. As you will have the opin- ion of abler critics than myself I shall not say much in the way of criticism. I shall only make a few remarks in uni- son with the feelings of my heart. With a tenacity of purpose usual with me, in all cases of importance, I was fully determined that the biography of my daughter should, if possible, be written by one not unworthy of the undertaking. My mind first turned to you, and you kind- ly acceded to my wishes. Had you refused I would have applied to the next best, and so on ; and had all applica- tions failed, as the last resource, though above eighty years of age and feeble, and unfit for the task, I would myself have written a short though inadequate memoir, rather than have left all to selfish, hostile, or ignorant scribblers. But the work is now done, and done rightly, as I wished it to be, and in its completion has afforded me more satis- faction than I have felt during many years of a life in which has been exemplified the saying that ' man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upwards.' You have not only given a picture of my dear daughter Charlotte, but of my dear wife, and all my dear children, and such a picture, too, as is full of truth and life. The picture of my brilliant and unhappy son is a masterpiece. Indeed, all the pictures in the work have vigorous, truthful, and delicate touches in them, which could have been executed only by a skilful fe- male hand. There are a few trifling mistakes, which, should it be deemed necessary, may be corrected in the second edition. Mr. Nicholls joins me in kind and respect- ful regards to you, Mr. G-askell, and your family, wishing your greatest good in both the words. I remain, my dear Madam, Yours respectfully and truly, P. Bronte. INTRODUCTION xxix Miss Mary Taylor acknowledged the book from her home in New Zealand as follows : — TO MRS. GASKELL, MANCHESTER. Wellington : July 30, 1857. My dear Mrs. Gaskell, — I am unaccountably in receipt by post of two volumes 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 per- fect 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 -suppres- sion,' 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. 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 Eoberson 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 at other oppressions. Once more I thank you for the book — the first copy, I believe, that arrived in New Zealand. Sincerely yours, Mart Taylor. xxx LIFE OP CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' All the notices that I have seen have been favour- able,' wrote Mrs. Gaskell to a friend on April 15, 1857, 'and some of the last exceedingly so. I have had a con- siderable number of letters, too, from distinguished men, expressing high approval. 1 Mr. Bronte, too, I am happy to say, is pleased.' But within a few weeks Mrs. Gaskell found herself in a veritable ' hornets' nest ' — as she expressed it. She visited Italy the moment her task was completed, and during April and May of the year 1857 her publishers had to bear the brunt of a considerable number of law- yers' letters. Mr. Carus "Wilson commenced an action about the Cowan Bridge School ; Miss Martineau wrote sheet after sheet regarding the misunderstanding be- 1 A letter from Charles Kingsley to Mrs. Gaskell is published in his Life by Mrs. Kingsley : — ' Let me renew our long interrupted acquaintance,' he writes from St. Leonards, under date May 14, 1857, 'by complimenting you on poor Miss BrontB'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 imagina- tive 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 dis- gusted me at the opening, and I gave up the writer and her books witti a notion that she was a person who liked coarseness. How I mis- judged her 1 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. INTRODUCTION xxxi tween her and Miss Bronte. A Lady Scott (Mrs. Eob- inson, of Thorp Green), whose name had been unpleas- antly associated with Branwell Bronte on the strength of statements in his sisters' letters, wrote through her lawyer demanding an apology. The last scandal is dis- cussed at length in Miss Mary F. Eobinson's ' Emily Bronte,' Mr. Leyland's ' Bronte Family,' and in ' Char- lotte Bronte and Her Circle.' It need not be further -referred to here, as the modification that its correction necessitated in the third edition of the ' Memoir ' in no way impaired, but indeed materially improved, the artis- tic value of the book. A comparison of the third edition with its predecessors, while it reveals on the one side omissions amounting to a couple of pages, shows also the addition of new letters and of much fresh informa- tion. The present publishers have felt, in any case, that having once withdrawn the earlier issues of the book as containing statements considered to be libellous, they could not be responsible for a republication of those state- ments. This edition is, therefore, an exact reproduction of the third edition, the only changes being the substi- tution of the name Ellen for the initial ' E.,' and of ' Miss "Wooler' for 'Miss "W.,' changes which, although trifling, will, it is believed, save the reader some irritation. In the few cases of necessary verification in which a name has been added in the text it is placed in brackets. The notes, which the Editor has endeavoured to make as few as possible, are so printed that they- can be completely ignored when desired. C Two hitherto unpublished letters of Mr. Bronte's fittingly close the correspondence to which Mrs. Gas- kell's ' Memoir ' gave rise. xxxii LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE TO GEOEGE SMITH, ESQ., 65 COENHILL, LONDON. Haworth, near Keighley : Sept. 4, 1857. My dear Sir, — I thank you for the books which I have just received ; Mr. Nicholls also sends his thanks for those you have given to him. As far as I have gone through the third edition of the ' Memoir' I am much pleased with it. I hope it will give general satisfaction. Should you see any reviews worth notice be so kind as to let me have them, as I am rather anxious to know what the sage critics may deem it expedient in their wisdom to say. I hope that by this time Mrs. Smith has fully recovered her health. Your anxiety on her account must be very great. Mr. Nicholls joins me in kind and respectful regards. Yours very respectfully and truly, P. Bronte. TO GEORGE SMITH, ESQ., 65 CORNHILL, LONDON. Haworth, near Keighley : March 26, 1860. My dear Sir, — Though writing is to me now something of a task I cannot avoid sending you a few lines to thank you for sending me the magazines, and for your gentle- manly conduct towards my daughter Charlotte in all your transactions with her, from first to last. All the numbers of the magazines were good ; the last especially attracted my attention and excited my admiration. The 'Last Sketch ' took full possession of my mind. Mr. Thackeray in his remarks in it has excelled even himself. He has written, Multum in parvo, dignissima cedro. And what he has written does honour both to his head and heart. Thank him kindly both in Mr. Nicholls's name and mine. Amongst the various articles that have been written in ref- erence to my family and me it has pleased some of the writers, for want of more important matter, to set up an ideal target for me as a mark to shoot at. In their prac- tice a few have drawn the long bow with a vengeance, and INTRODUCTION xxxiii made declensions very ridiculously wide ; others have used the surer rifle and come nearer the mark ; but all have proved that there is still space left for improvement, both in theory and practice. Had I but half Mr. Thackeray's talents in giving a photograph likeness of human nature I might have selected and might yet select a choice number of these practising volunteers, and, whether they liked it or not, give their portraits to the curious public. If organ- less spirits see as we see, and feel as we feel, in this ma- terial clogging world, my daughter Charlotte's spirit will receive additional happiness on scanning the remarks of her Ancient Favourite. In the last letter I received from you you mentioned that Mrs. Smith was in delicate health ; I hope that she is now well. I need scarcely request you to excuse all faults in this hasty scrawl, since a man in his eighty - fourth year generally lets his age plead his apology. I remain, my dear Sir, Yours very respectfully and truly, P. Bronte. ' I did so long to tell the truth,' writes Mrs. Gaskell to a friend on her return from Home, ' and I believe now that I hit as near the truth as any one could. I weighed every line with my whole power and heart, 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. One comfort is that God knows the truth.' Clement K. Shoetee. March 19, 1900. I have to thank Mr. J. J. Stead, of Heckmondwike, Yorkshire, and Mr. Butler Wood, of the Free Library, xxxiv LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Bradford, for valuable suggestions. I am grateful to Mr. Eogbe Ingpbn for giving the book an index for the first time, and thereby saving me from the anathema which has been passed upon unindexed books. I have, above all, to express my obligations to the Rev. A. B. Nicholls, Charlotte Bronte's husband, for kind and generous as- sistance in this as in my previous attempt to throw new light upon his wife's career. A BRONTE CHRONOLOGY Patrick Bronte born March 17, 1777 Maria Bronte born 1783 Patrick leaves Ireland for Cambridge 1802 Degree of A.B 1806 Curacy at Wethersfleld, Essex 1806 Wellington, Salop 1809 " Dewsbury, Yorks 1809 " Hartsbead-cum-Clifton 1811 Publishes 'Cottage Poems' (Halifax) 1811 Married to Maria Branwell December 29, 1812 "JTirst 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 .... April 21, 1816 Patrick Branwell Bronte born 1817 -Emily Jane Bronte born July 30, 1818 ' The Maid of Killarney ' published 1818 -"Anne Bronte\born January 17, 1820 Removal to Incumbency of Haworth . . . February 1820 Mrs. Bronte died September 15, 1821 Maria and Elizabeth Bronte at Cowan Bridge . . . July 1824 Charlotte and Emily " " , . September 1824 Leave Cowan Bridge 1825 Maria Bronte died May 6, 1825 Elizabeth Bronte died June 15, 1825 Charlotte Bronte at School, Roe Head. . . . January 1831 Leaves Roe Head School 1832 First Visit to Ellen Nussey at The Rydings . . September 1832 Returns to Roe Head as governess .... July 29, 1835 Branwell visits London i 1835 Emily spends three months at Roe Head, when Anne takes her place and she returns home 1835 xxxvi LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Miss Wooler's School removed to Dewsbury Moor . . . 1836 Emily at a School at Halifax for six months (Miss Patchett of Law Hill) 1836 First Proposal of Marriage (Henry Nussey) . . March 1839 Anne Bronte becomes governess at Blake Hall, Mrs. Ing- ham's April 1839 Charlotte governess at Mrs. Sidgwick's at Stonegappe, and at Swarcliffe, Harrogate 1839 Second Proposal of Marriage (Mr. Bryce) 1839 Charlotte and Emily at Haworth, Anne at Blake Hall . . 1840 Charlotte's second situation as governess with Mrs. White, Upperwood House, Rawdon .... March 1841 February 1842 October 29, 1842 November 1842 January 1843 January 1844 . 1845 . 1845 . 1845 Charlotte and Emily go to School at Brussels Miss Branwell died at Haworth . Charlotte and Emily return to Haworth Charlotte returns to Brussels Returns to Haworth .... Anne and Branwell at Thorp Green . Charlotte visits Mary Taylor at Hunsworth Visits Ellen Nussey at Brookroyd Publication of Poems by Gurrer, Ellis, and Acton Bell . . 1846 Charlotte Bronte visits Manchester with her Father for him to see an Oculist August 1846 'Jane Eyre' published (Smith, Elder & Co.) . . October 1847 ' Wuthering Heights ' and ' Agnes Grey ' (Newby) . December 1847 Charlotte and Anne visit London June 1848 ' Tenant of Wildfell Hall' 1848 Branwell died ....... September 24, 1848 Emily died December 19, 1848 Anne Bronte died at Scarborough .... May 28, 1849 'Shirley' published 1849 Visit to London, first meeting with Thackeray . . November 1849 Visit to London, sits for Portrait to Richmond .... 1850 Third Proposal of Marriage (James Taylor) .... 1851 Visit to London for Exhibition . 1851 ' Villette ' published 1853 Visit to London 1853 Visit to Manchester to Mrs. Gaskell 1853 Marriage June 29, 1854 Death March 31, 1855 Patrick Bronte died June 7, 1861 Facsimile of the Title-page of the First Edition THE LIFE OT CHARLOTTE BRONTE, AUTHOR OF -JANE EYRE," "SHIELEY," « VTLLETTE," fta BY E. C. GASKELL, AUTHOR OP " MART BARTON," " BUTH," &C, ' Ob my God, ■ Thou hast knowledge, only Thou, How dreary 'tis for women to sit still On winter nights by solitary fires And hear the nations praising them tor off." AoRoa* Lean, IN TWO VOLUMEa VOL. L LONDON: SMITH, ELDER & CO., 65, CORNHILL. 1857. [ Tht right of Translation is reserved.] LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE CHAPTER I The Leeds and Skipton railway runs along a deep valley of the Aire ; a slow and sluggish stream, compared with the neighbouring river of Wharfe. Keighley station is on this line of railway, about a quarter of a mile from the town of the same name. The number of inhabitants and the importance of Keighley have been very greatly in- creased during the last twenty years, owing to the rapidly extended market for worsted manufactures, a branch of industry that mainly employs the factory population of this part of Yorkshire, which has Bradford for its centre and metropolis. Keighley 1 is in process of transformation from a popu- lous old-fashioned village into a still more populous and 'The population of Keighley was 13,378 in 1841, 21,859 in 1861, and 30,810 in 1891. Keighley is now a borough and is growing very rapidly. The old narrow streets have disappeared to a far greater ex- tent than at the time when Mrs. Gaskell visited the town. Keighley at present boasts many wide and handsome thoroughfares. There are several extensive machine works and two public parks. A large educational institute has grown out of the old Mechanics' Institute, from which the Brontes were accustomed to borrow books. The sta- tion is no longer 'about a quarter of a mile from the town,' the inter- vening space being now covered with houses. 1 2 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE flourishing town. It is evident to the stranger that, as the gable-ended houses, which obtrude themselves corner-wise on the widening streets, fall vacant, they are pulled down to allow of greater space for traffic and a more modern style of architecture. The quaint and narrow shop-windows of fifty years ago are giving way to large panes and plate-glass. Nearly every dwelling seems devoted to some branch of commerce. In passing hastily through the town, one hard- ly perceives where the necessary lawyer and doctor can live, so little appearance is there of any dwellings of the pro- fessional middle-class, such as abound in our old cathedral , towns. In fact, nothing can be more opposed than the state of society, the modes of thinking, the standards of reference on all points of morality, manners, and even poli- tics and religion, in such a new manufacturing place as Keighley in the north, and any stately, sleepy, picturesque cathedral town in the south. Yet the aspect of Keighley promises well for future stateliness, if not picturesqueness. Grey stone abounds, and the rows of houses built of it have a kind of solid grandeur connected with their uniform and enduring lines. The framework of the doors and the lin- tels of the windows, even in the smallest dwellings, are made of blocks of stone. There is no painted wood to re- quire continual beautifying, or else present a shabby aspect; and the stone is kept scrupulously clean by the notable Yorkshire housewives. Such glimpses into the interior as a passer-by obtains reveal a rough abundance of the means of living, and diligent and active habits in the women. But the voices of the people are hard, and their tones discordant, -f promising little of the musical taste that distinguishes the district, and which has already furnished a Carrodus ' to the musical world. The names over the shops (of which the one just given is a sample) seem strange even to an inhab- itant of the neighbouring county, and have a peculiar smack and flavour of the place. 'John Tiplady Carrodus (1836-95), a famous violinist, born at Braithwaite, near Keighley. KEIGHLEY AND HA WORTH 3 The town of Keighley never quite melts into country on the road to Haworth, although the houses become more sparse as the traveller journeys upwards to the grey round hills that seem to bound his journey in a westerly direction. First come some villas, just sufficiently retired from the road to show that they can scarcely belong to any one liable to be summoned in a hurry, at the call of suffering or dan- ger, from his comfortable fireside ; the lawyer, the doctor, and the clergyman live at hand, and hardly in the suburbs, with a screen of shrubs for concealment. In a town one does not look for vivid colouring ; what there may be of this is furnished by the wares in the shops, not by foliage or atmospheric effects ; but in the country some brilliancy and vividness seems to be instinctively ex- pected, and there is consequently a slight feeling of disap- pointment at the grey natural tint of every object, near or far off, on the way from Keighley to Ha worth. The distance : is about four miles ; and, as I have said, what with villas, great worsted factories, rows of workmen's houses, with 'here and there an old-fashioned farmhouse and outbuild- ings, it can hardly be called ' country' any part of the way. 'For two miles the road passes over tolerably level ground ; distant hills on the left, a ' beck' flowing through meadows on the right, and furnishing water power, at certain points, to the factories built on its banks. The air is dim and lightless with the smoke from all these habitations and places of business. The soil in the valley (or ' bottom,' to use the local term) is rich ; but as the road begins to ascend the vegetation becomes poorer ; it does not flourish, it merely exists ; and instead of trees there are only bushes 'and shrubs about the dwellings. Stone dykes are every- where used in place of hedges ; and what crops there are, on the patches of arable land, consist of pale, hungry-look- ing, grey -green oats. Right before the traveller on this road rises Haworth village ; l he can see it for two miles be- l ' Haworth had a population of 6,303 in 1841. It had declined to >,896 in 1861, but contained a population of 8,023 in 1891. 4 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE fore he arrives, for it is situated on the side of a pretty steep hill, with a background of dun and purple moors, rising and sweeping away yet higher than the church, which is built at the very summit of the long narrow street. All round the horizon there is this same line of sinuous wave-like hills, the scoops into which they fall only revealing other hills beyond, of similar colour and shape, crowned with wild bleak moors — grand from the ideas of solitude and loneli- ness which they suggest, or oppressive' from the feeling which they give of being pent up by some monotonous and illimitable barrier, according to the mood of mind in which the spectator may be. For a short distance the road appears to turn away from Haworth, as it winds round the base of the shoulder of a hill ; but then it crosses a bridge over the ' beck,' and the ascent through the village begins. The flagstones with which it is paved are placed endways, in order to give a better hold to the horses' feet ; and even with this help they seem to be in constant danger of slipping backwards. The old stone houses are high compared with the width of the\ street, which makes an abrupt turn before reaching the more level ground at the head of the village, so that the steep aspect of the place, in one part, is almost like that of a wall. But this surmounted, the church lies a little off the main road on the left ; a hundred yards or so and the driver relaxes his care, and the horse breathes more easily, as they pass into the quiet little by-street that leads to Ha- worth Parsonage. The churchyard is on one side of this lane, the schoolhouse and the sexton's dwelling' (where the curates formerly lodged) on the other.. The parsonage stands at right angles to the road, facing down upon the church ; so that, in fact, parsonage, chnieh, and belfried schoolhouse form three sides of an irregnlar oblong, of which the fourth is open to the fields and moors that lie beyond. The area of this oblong is filled up by a crowded churchyard, and a small garden, or court in front of the clergyman's house. As the entrance to this from the HAWORTH PARSONAGE AND CHURCH 5 road is at the side, the path goes round the corner into the little plot of ground. Underneath the windows is a narrow flower-border, carefully tended in days of yore, although only the most hardy plants could be made to grow there. "Within the stone wall, which keeps out the surrounding churchyard, are bushes of elder and lilac ; the rest of the ground is occupied by a square grass - plot and a gravel walk. The house is of grey stone, two stories high, heav- ily roofed with flags, in order to resist the winds that might strip off a lighter covering. It appears to have been built about a hundred years ago, and to consist of four rooms on each story ; the two windows on the right (as the visitor stands with his back to the church, ready to enter in at the front door) belonging to Mr. Bronte's study, the two on the left to the family sitting-room. Everything about the place tells of the most dainty order, the most exquisite cleanli- ness. The doorsteps are spotless ; the small old-fashioned window-panes glitter like looking-glass. Inside and outside of that house cleanliness goes up into its essence, purity. 1 The church lies, as I mentioned, above most of the houses in the village ; and the graveyard rises above the church, and is terribly full of upright tombstones. The chapel or church claims greater antiquity than any other in that part of the kingdom ; but there is no appearance of this in the external aspect of the present edifice, unless it 1 An entirely different aspect is afforded to-day. Trees have been planted, much money has been spent in careful gardening, and a large dining-room, extending from back to front, has been built in the side of the house nearest the road. There was a gateway, now bricked up, but traceable at the end of the garden, from which the churchyard could be entered, but this gateway was only opened for the carrying out of the dead. It was opened for Mrs. Bronte, Miss Branwell, Patrick, Emily, Charlotte, and their father successively. The incumbency of Haworth, after Mr. Bronte's death in 1861, passed to the Rev. John Wade, who occupied the parsonage until 1898, when he resigned and was succeeded by the Rev. T. W. Storey, who up to that time had been senior curate of the Bradford Parish Church. 6 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE be in the two eastern windows, which remain unmodern- ised, and in the lower part of the steeple. Inside, the character of the pillars shows that they were constructed before the reign" of Henry VII. It is probable that there existed on this ground a ' field-kirk,' or oratory, in the ear- liest times ; and, from the Archbishop's registry at York, it is ascertained that there was a chapel at Haworth in 1317. The inhabitants refer inquirers concerning the date to the following inscription on a stone in the church tower : — ' Hie fecit Csenobium Monachorum Auteste fundator. A.D. sexcen- tissimo.' That is to say, before the preaching of Christianity in Northumbria. Whitaker says that this mistake originated in the illiterate copying out, by some modern stonecutter, of an inscription in the character of Henry VIII. 's time on an adjoining stone : — ' Orate pro bono statu Eutest Tod.' 'Now every antiquary knows that the formula of prayer "bono statu " always refers to the living. I suspect this singular Christian name has been mistaken by the stone-cutter for Austet, a contraction of Eustatius, but the word Tod, which has been mis -read for the Arabic figures 600, is perfectly fair and legible. On the presumption of this foolish claim to antiquity, the people would needs set up for independence, and contest the right of the Vicar of Bradford to nomi- nate a curate at Haworth.' I have given this extract in order to explain the imagi- nary groundwork of a commotion which took place in Haworth about five-and-thirty years ago, to which I shall have occasion to allude again more particularly. The interior of the church is commonplace ; * it is neither 1 The church as the Brontes knew it dated only from 1755, when it was built by the Rev. William Grimshaw, who also built a now de- molished Wesleyan chapel at Haworth. In 1879 a certain Michael Merrell offered five thousand pounds towards the rebuilding of the church, it having been urged that the accommodation was insufficient for the would-be worshippers. The offer was too tempting for the then incumbent, Mr. Wade, to resist. Bronte enthusiasts were volu- TABLETS OF THE BRONTE FAMILY 1 old enough nor modern enough to compel notice. The pews are of black oak, with high divisions ; and the names of those to whom they belong are painted in white letters on the doors. There are neither brasses, nor altar-tombs, nor monuments, but there is a mural tablet 1 on the right- hand side of the Communion table, bearing the following inscription : — herb - lie the remains of MARIA BRONTE, WIFE OF THE REV. P. BRONTE, A.B., MINISTER OF HA WORTH. HER SOUL DEPARTED TO THE SAVIOUR, SEPT. 15TH, 1821, IN THE 39TH TEAR OF HER AGE. ' Be ye also ready : for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh.' — Matthew xxiv. 44. ble, but they did not answer the incumbent's challenge that they should first raise money and then make a counter-proposal. Articles and letters of protest appeared in the London Standard (throughout April 1879) and in the Leeds Mercury (April 3, April 80, June 20, 1879); and a public meeting was held at Haworth, at which a resolution condemning the proposed destruction of the church was carried by a large majority. The advocates of demolition triumphed, however. The Consistory Court for the Diocese of Ripon, with which the ulti- mate decision lay, decided for rebuilding, and what might have been to-day a pathetic memorial of a remarkable family was doomed to de- struction. It would have been easy to find a fresh site for a new church, and to retain the old one, as has been done at Shaftesbury and in many other English towns, but the church in which Mr. Bronte preached and his daughters worshipped for so many years has been entirely destroyed. The tower — the only genuinely old portion of the structure — was preserved. The closing services at Haworth Old Church took place on September 14, 1879, and the new church was consecrated on February 22, 1881. 1 The mural tablet here referred to was probably broken up at the time of the destruction of the old church. Sundry pew doors, lamp brackets, and other mementos of the old church, after having been long in the possession of » dealer, were disposed of by auction at Sotheby's sale rooms in London on July 2, 1898. 8 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ALSO HERB LIB THE REMAINS OF MARIA BRONTE, DAUGHTER OP THE AFORESAID; SHE DIED ON THE 6TH OF MAT, 1826, IN THE 12TH YEAR OF HER AGE ; AND OF ELIZABETH BRONTE, HER SISTER, WHO DIED JUNE 15TH, 1826, IN THE 11TH YEAR OF HER AGE. ' Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as lit- tle children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.'— Mat- thew xviii. 3. HERE ALSO LIB THE REMAINS OF PATRICK BRANWELL BRONTE, WHO DIED SEPT. 24TH, 1848, AGED 30 YEARS ; AND OF EMILY JANE BRONTE, WHO DIED DEC. 19TH, 1848, AGED 29 YEARS, SON AND DAUGHTER OF THE REV. P. BRONTE, INCUMBENT. THIS STONE IS ALSO DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF ANNE BRONTE, 1 YOUNGEST DAUGHTER OF THE REV. P. BRONTE, A.B. : ,i SHE DIED, AGED 27 YEARS, MAY 28TH, 1849, AND WAS BURIED AT' THE OLD CHURCH, SCARBORO'. 1 A reviewer pointed out the discrepancy between the age (twenty- seven years) assigned, on the mural tablet, to Anne Bronte* at the time of her death in 1849, and the alleged fact that she was born at Thornton, from which place Mr. Bronte removed on February 25, 1820. I was aware of the discrepancy, but I did not think it of sufficient conse- quence to be rectified by an examination of the register of births. Mr. Bronte's own words, on which I grounded my statement as to the time of Anne Bronte's birth, are as follows : — ' In Thornton Charlotte, Patrick Branwell, Emily Jane, and Anne were born.' And such of the inhabitants of Haworth as have spoken on the subject say that all the children of Mr. and Mrs. Bronte were born before they removed to Haworth. There is probably some mis- take in the inscription on the tablet. — Note by Mrs. Qashell. TABLETS OF THE BRONTE FAMILY 9 At the upper part of this tablet ample space is allowed between the lines of the inscription ; when the first me- morials were written down, the survivors, in their fond af- fection, thought little of the margin and verge they were leaving for those who were still living. But as one dead member of the household follows another fast to the grave the lines are pressed together, and the letters become small and cramped. After the record of Anne's death there is room for no other. But one more of that generation — the last of that nursery of six little motherless children — was yet to follow, before the survivor, the childless and widowed father, found his rest. On another tablet, below the first, the following rec- ord has been added to that mournful list : — ADJOINING LIE THE BBMAINS OP CHARLOTTE, WIFE OF THE REV. ARTHUR BELL NICHOLLS, A.B., AND DAUGHTER OF THE REV. P. BRONTE, A.B., INCUMBENT. SHE DIED MARCH 31ST, 1855, IN THE 39TH TEAR OF HER AGE. 1 1 In the month of April 1858 a neat mural tablet was erected within the Communion railing of the Church at Haworth, to the memory of the deceased members of the Bronte family. The tablet is of white Carrara marble on a ground of dove-coloured marble, with a cornice surmounted by an ornamental pediment of chaste design. Between the brackets which support the tablet is inscribed the sacred mono- gram I.H.8 in Old English letters. This tablet, which corrects the error in the former tablet as to the age of Anne Bronte, bears the following inscription in Roman letters, the initials, however, being in Old English : — 'In Memory of 'Maria, wife of the Rev. P. Bronte, A.B., Minister of Haworth. She died Sept. 15th, 1821, in the 39th year of her age. ' Also of Maria, their daughter, who died May 6th, 1825, in the 12th year of her age. 10 LIFE OP CHARLOTTE BRONTE ■ Also of Elizabeth, their daughter, who died June 15th, 1825, in the 11th year of her age. ' Also of Patrick Branwell, their son, who died Sept. 24th, 1848, aged 31 years. ' Also of Emily Jane, their daughter, who died Dec. 19th, 1848, aged 30 years. 'Also of Anne, their daughter, who died May 28th, 1849, aged 29 years. She was buried at the Old Church, Scarborough. ' Also of Charlotte, their daughter, wife of the Rev. A. B. Nicholls, B.A. She died March 31st, 1855, in the 39th year of her age. ' "The sting of death is sin ; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."— I Cok. xy. 56, 57.'— Note by Mrs. Oaskell. None of the birthdays are given, it will be seen, on either tablet. There was no register of births at the time, only of christenings, and hence exact dates are not obtainable in the case of Mrs. Bronte and her son. Maria BrontS, the mother of Charlotte Bronte, was born at Pen- zance, 1782. Maria Bronte, the sister of Charlotte, was born at Hartshead, April 16, 1813. Elizabeth Bronte, the second sister of Charlotte, was born at Harts- head, July 27, 1814. Charlotte Bronte was born at Thornton, April 21, 1816. Patrick Branwell Bronte was born at Thornton. He was baptised July 23, 1817. Emily Jane Bronte was born at Thornton, July 30, 1818. Anne Bronte was born at Thornton, January 17, 1820. The tablet to which Mrs. Gaskell refers as having been erected in 1858 contains the additional inscription, which was, of course, added after the Life was written — 'Also of the aforenamed Revd. P. Bronte, A.B., who died June 7, 1861, in the 85th year of his age ; having been incumbent of Haworth for upward of 41 years.' There is also a brass tablet over the Bronte grave in the church with the following inscription: — ' In memory of Emily Jane Bronte, who died December 19, 1848, aged thirty years ; and of Charlotte Bronte, born April 21, 1816, and died March 31, 1855.' / CHAPTEE II For a right understanding of the life of my dear friend, Charlotte Bronte, it appears to me more necessary in her case than in most others that the reader should be made acquainted with the peculiar forms of population and so- ciety amidst which her earliest years were passed, and from which both her own and her sister's first impressions of human life must have been received. I shall endeavour, therefore, before proceeding further with my work, to pre- sent some idea of the character of the people of Haworth and the surrounding districts. Even an inhabitant of the neighbouring county of Lan- caster is struck by the peculiar force of character which the Yorkshiremen display. 1 This makes them interesting as a race ; while, at the same time, as individuals the re- markable degree of self-sufficiency they possess gives them an air of independence rather apt to repel a stranger. I use this expression ' self-sufficiency ' in the largest sense. Conscious of the strong sagacity and the dogged power of will which seem almost the birthright of the natives of the West Riding, each man relies upon himself, and seeks no help at the hands of his neighbour. From rarely requiring the assistance of others, he comes to doubt the power of bestowing it; from the general success of his efforts, he grows to depend upon them, and to over-esteem his own 1 ' Some of the West Ridingers are very angry,' Miss Nussey wrote to Mrs. Gaskell a few months after the first edition of the ' Memoir' was published, ' and declare they are half a century in civilisation before some of the Lancashire folk, and that this neighbourhood is a paradise compared with some districts not far from Manchester.' 12 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE energy and power. He belongs to that keen yet short- sighted class who consider suspicion of all whose honesty is not proved as a sign of wisdom. The practical qualities of a man are held in great respect ; but the want of faith in strangers and untried modes of action extends itself even to the jnanner in which the virtues are regarded: and if they produce no immediate and tangible result, they are rather put aside as unfit for this busy, striving world, es- pecially if they are more of a passive than an active char- acter. The affections are strong and their foundations lie deep : but they are not — such affections seldom are — wide- spreading ; nor do they show themselves on the surface. Indeed, there is little display of any of the amenities of life among this wild rough population. Their accost is curt, their accent and tone of speech blunt and harsh. Some- thing of this may, probably, be attributed to the freedom of mountain air and isolated hillside life ; something be de- rived from their rough Norse ancestry. They have a quick perception of character, and a keen sense of humour; the dwellers among them must be prepared for certain uncom- plimentary, though most likely true, observations, pithily expressed. Their feelings are not easily roused, but their duration is lasting. Hence there is much close friendship and faithful service ; and for a correct exemplification of the form in which the latter frequently appears, I need only refer the reader of '"Wuthering Heights' to the character of ' Joseph.' From the same cause come also enduring grudges, in some cases amounting to hatred, which occasionally has been bequeathed from generation to generation. I remem- ber Miss Bronte once telling me that it was a saying round about Haworth, ' Keep a stone in thy pocket seven year ; turn it, and keep it seven year longer, that it may be ever ready to thine hand when thine enemy draws near.' The West Riding men are sleuth-hounds in pursuit of money. Miss Bronte related to my husband' a curious 1 William Gaskell (1805-1884). Mr. Gaskell was a Unitarian min- MEN OF THE WEST RIDING 13 instance illustrative of this eager desire for riches. A man that she knew, who was a small manufacturer, had engaged in many local speculations which had always turned out well, and thereby rendered him a person of some wealth. He was rather past middle age, when he bethought him of insuring his life; and he had only just taken out his pol- icy when he fell ill of an acute disease which was certain to end fatally in a very few days. The doctor, half hesitat- ingly, revealed to him his hopeless state. ' By jingo !' cried he, rousing up at once into the old energy, ' I shall do the insurance company ! I always was a lucky fellow ! J These men are keen and shrewd ; faithful and persever- ing in following out a good purpose, fell in tracking an evil one. They are not emotional : they are not easily made into either friends or enemies; but once lovers or haters, it is difficult to change their feeling. They are a powerful race both in mind and body, both for good and for evil. The woollen manufacture was introduced into this dis- trict in the days of Edward III. It is traditionally said that a colony of Flemings came over and settled in the West Riding to teach the inhabitants what to do with their wool. The mixture of agricultural with manufacturing labour that ensued and prevailed in the West Riding up to ister. He was the son of a manufacturer, and was born at Latchford, near "Warrington. He studied at Glasgow, where he graduated M. A. in 1824. After a period as divinity student at Manchester College, York, he became minister of Cross Street Chapel, Manchester, in 1838, and this position he occupied until his retirement. He was pro- fessor of English history and literature at Manchester New College from 1846 to 1853, and he held many other appointments from time to time. Although perhaps best known to the world as the husband of the novelist, he himself wrote a considerable number of hymns, ser- mons, and controversial pamphlets. He died at his residence, Plym- outh Grove, Manchester, June 11, 1884, and was buried beside his wife (who had died in 1865) at Knutsford. (The Kev. Alexander Gor- don, in the Dictionary of National Biography.) 14 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE a very recent period, sounds pleasant enough at this dis- tance of time, when the classical impression is left, and the details forgotten, or only brought to light by those who explore the few remote parts of England where the custom still lingers. The idea of the mistress and her maidens spinning at the great wheels while the master was abroad ploughing his fields, or seeing after his flocks on the pur- ple moors, is very poetical to look back upon ; but when such life actually touches on our own days, and we can hear particulars from the lips of those now living, there come out details of coarseness — of the uncouthness of the rustic mingled with the sharpness of the tradesman — of ir- . regularity and fierce lawlessness — that rather mar the vision of pastoral innocence and simplicity. Still, as it is the exceptional and exaggerated characteristics of any period that leave the most vivid memory behind them, it would be wrong, and in my opinion faithless, to conclude that such and such forms of society and modes of living were not best for the period when they prevailed, although the abuses they may have led into, and the gradual prog- ress of the world, have made it well that such ways and manners should pass away for ever, and as preposterous to attempt to return to them as it would be for a man to re- turn to the clothes of his childhood. The patent granted to Alderman Cockayne, and the fur- ther restrictions imposed by James I. on the export of un- dyed woollen cloths (met by a prohibition on the part of the States of Holland of the import of English-dyed cloths), injured the trade of the West Eiding manufacturers con- siderably. Their independence of character, their dislike of authority, and their strong powers of thought predis- posed them to rebellion against the religious dictation of such men as Laud and the arbitrary rule of the Stuarts; and the injury done by James and Charles to the trade by which they gained their bread made the great majority of them Commonwealth men. I shall have occasion after- wards to give one or two instances of the warm feelings DESCENDANTS OF THE PURITANS 15 and extensive knowledge on subjects of both home and for- eign politics existing at the present day in the villages ly- ing west and east of the mountainous ridge that separates Yorkshire and Lancaster, the inhabitants of which are of the same race and possess the same quality of character. The descendants of many who served under Cromwell at Dunbar live on the same lands as their ancestors occupied then ; and perhaps there is no part of England where the traditional and fond recollections of the Commonwealth have lingered so long as in that inhabited by the woollen manufacturing population of the West Riding, who had the restrictions taken off their trade by the Protector's admirable commercial policy. I have it on good authority that, not thirty years ago, the phrase ' in Oliver's days ' was in common use to denote a time of unusual prosperity. The class of Christian names prevalent in a district is one indication of the direction in which its tide of hero-worship sets. Grave enthusiasts in politics or religion perceive not the ludicrous side of those which they give to their chil- dren ; and some are to be found, still in their infancy, not a dozen miles from Haworth, that will have to go through life as Lamartine, Kossuth, and Dembinsky. And so there is a testimony to what I have said, of the traditional feel- ing of the district, and in fact that the Old Testament names in general use among the Puritans are yet the prev- alent appellations in most Yorkshire families of middle or humble rank, whatever their religious persuasion may be. There are numerous records, too, that show the kindly way in which the ejected ministers were received by the gentry, as well as by the poorer part of the inhabitants, during the persecuting days of Charles II. These little facts all testify to the old hereditary spirit of indepen- dence, ready ever to resist authority which was conceived to be unjustly exercised, that' distinguishes the people of the West Riding to the present day. The parish of Halifax touches that of Bradford, in which the chapelry of Haworth is included ; and the nature of the 16 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ground in the two parishes is much of the same wild and hilly description. The abundance of coal, and the num- ber of mountain streams in the district, make it highly favourable to manufactures ; and accordingly, as I stated, the inhabitants have for centuries been engaged in making cloth, as well as in agricultural pursuits. But the inter- course of trade failed, for a long time, to bring amenity and civilisation into these outlying hamlets, or widely scattered dwellings. Mr. Hunter, in his ' Life of Oliver Heywood,' 1 quotes a sentence out of a memorial of one James Either, living in the reign of Elizabeth, which is partially true to this day : — ' They have no superior to court, no civilities to practise : a sour and sturdy humour is the consequence, so that a stranger is shocked by a tone of defiance in every voice, and an air of fierceness in every countenance.' Even now a stranger can hardly ask a question without receiving some crusty reply, if, indeed, he receives any at all. Sometimes the sour rudeness amounts to positive in- sult. Yet if the 'foreigner' takes all this churlishness good-humouredly, or as a matter of course, and makes good any claim upon their latent kindliness and hospitality, they are faithful and generous, and thoroughly to be relied upon. As a slight illustration of the roughness that pervades all classes in these out-of-the-way villages, I may relate a little adventure which happened to my husband, and my- self, three years ago, at Addingham — 1 Oliver Heywood (1630-1702), Nonconformist divine, third son of Richard Heywood, yeoman, by his first wife, Alice Critchlaw, was born at Little Lever, near Bolton, Lancashire. His parents were Pur- itans. He was educated at Bolton Grammar School and Trinity College, Cambridge. In 1650 he became preacher at Coley Chapel, in the village of Northowram, in the parish of Halifax, West Riding, at a salary of SOI. a year. Oliver Heywood was a Royalist Presby- terian. The London Agreement of 1691 between the Presbyterians and Congregation alists, known as the ' Happy Union,' was introduced mainly through his influence. DESCENDANTS OF THE PURITANS 17 * From Penigent to Pendle Hill, From Linton to Long- Addingha/m And all that Craven coasts did till,' <&c. — one of the places that sent forth its fighting men to the famous old battle of Flodden Field, and a village not many- miles from Haworth. We were driving along the street, when one of those ne'er-do-weel lads who seem to have a kind of magnetic power for misfortunes, having jumped into the stream that runs through the place, just where all the broken glass and bottles are thrown, staggered naked and nearly covered with blood into a cottage before us. Besides receiving an- other bad cut in the arm, he had completely laid open the artery, and was in a fair way of bleeding to death — which, one of his relations comforted him by saying, would be likely to 'save a deal o' trouble.' When my husband had checked the effusion of blood with a strap that one of the bystanders unbuckled from his leg, he asked if a surgeon had been sent for. ' Yoi,' was the answer ; 'but we dinna think he'll come.' « Why not ?' ' He's owd, yo seen, and asthmatic, and it's up-hill.' My husband, taking a boy for his guide, drove as fast as he could to the surgeon's house, which was about three- quarters of a mileoff, and met the aunt of the wounded lad leaving it. 'Is he coming ?' inquired my husband. 'Well, he didna' say he wouldna' come.' ' But tell him the lad may bleed to death.' 'I did.' ' And what did he say ?' ' Why, only " D n him ; what do I care ?" ' It ended, however, in his sending one of his sons, who, though not brought up to 'the surgering trade,' was able to do what was necessary in the way of bandages and plasters. The excuse made for the surgeon was that ' he was near 2 18 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE eighty, and getting a bit doited, and had had a matter o' twenty childer/ Among the most unmoved of the lookers-on was the brother of the boy so badly hurt ; and while he was lying in a pool of blood on the flag floor, and crying out how much his arm was 'warching,' his stoical relation stood coolly smoking his bit of black pipe, and uttered not a single word of either sympathy or sorrow. Forest customs, existing in the fringes of dark wood which clothed the declivity of the hills on either side, tended to brutalise the population until the middle of the seventeenth century. Execution by beheading was performed in a sum- mary way upon either men or women who were guilty of but very slight crimes ; and a dogged, yet in some cases fine, indifference to human life, was thus generated. The roads were so notoriously bad, even up to the last thirty years, that there was little communication between one vil- lage and another ; if the produce of industry could be con- veyed at stated times to the cloth market of the district, it was all that could be done ; and, in lonely houses on the distant hillside, or by the small magnates of secluded ham- lets, crimes might be committed almost unknown, certainly without any great uprising of popular indignation calcu- lated to bring down the strong arm of the law. It must be remembered that in those days there was no rural con- stabulary ; and the few magistrates left to themselves, and generally related to one another, were most of them in- clined to tolerate eccentricity, and to wink at faults too much like their own. Men hardly past middle life talk of the days of their youth, spent in this part of the country, when, during the winter months, they rode up to the saddle girths in mud ; when absolute business was the only reason for stirring be- yond the precincts of home ; and when that business was conducted under a pressure of difficulties which they them- selves, borne along to Bradford market in a swift first-class carriage, can hardly believe to have been possible. For in- STATE OF THE ROADS IN YORKSHIRE 19 stance, one woollen manufacturer says that, not five-and- twenty years ago, he had to rise betimes to set off on a winter's morning in order to be at Bradford with the great wagon-load of goods manufactured by his father ; this load was packed over-night, but in the morning there was a great gathering around it, and flashing of lanterns, and examina- tion of horses' feet, before the ponderous wagon got under way ; and then some one had to go groping here and there, on hands and knees, and always sounding with a staff down the long, steep, slippery brow, to find where the horses might tread safely, until they reached the comparative easy-going of the deep-rutted main road. People went on horseback over the upland moors, following the tracks of the pack-horses that carried the parcels, baggage, or goods from one town to another between which there did not hap- pen to be a highway. But in winter all such communication was impossible, by reason of the snow which lay long and late on the bleak high ground. I have known people who, travelling by the mail coach over Blackstone Edge, had been snowed up for a week or ten days at the little inn near the summit, and obliged to spend both Christmas and New Year's Day there, till, the store of provisions laid in for the use of the land- lord and his family falling short before the inroads of the unexpected visitors, they had recourse to the turkeys, geese, and Yorkshire pies with which the coach was laden ; and even these were beginning to fail, when a fortunate thaw released them from their prison. Isolated as the hill villages may be, they are in the world, compared with the loneliness of the grey ancestral houses to be seen here and there in the dense hollows of the moors. These dwellings are not large, yet they are solid and roomy enough for the accommodation of those who live in them, and to whom the surrounding estates belong. The land has often been held by one family since the days of the Tudors ; the owners are, in fact, the remnants of the old yeomanry — small squires — who are rapidly becoming extinct as a 20 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE class, from one of two causes. Either the possessor falls into idle, drinking habits, and so is obliged eventually to sell his property: or he finds, if more shrewd and advent- urous, that the 'beck' running down the mountain-side, or the minerals beneath his feet, can be turned into a new source of wealth; and leaving the old plodding life of a landowner with small capital, he turns manufacturer, or digs for coal, or quarries for stone. Still there are those remaining of this class — dwellers in the lonely houses far away in the upland districts — even at the present day, who sufficiently indicate what strange ec- centricity — what wild strength of will — nay, even what un- natural power of crime was fostered by a mode of living in which a man seldom met his fellows and where public opin- ion was only a distant and inarticulate echo of some clearer voice sounding behind the sweeping horizon. A solitary life cherishes mere fancies until they become manias. And the powerful Yorkshire character, which was scarcely tamed into subjection hy all the contact it met with in 'busy town or crowded mart,' has before now broken out into strange wilfulness in the remoter districts. A singular account was recently given me of a landowner (living, it is true, on the Lancashire side of the hills, but of the same blood and nature as the dwellers on the other) who was supposed to be in receipt of seven or eight hun- dred a year, and whose house bore marks of handsome an- tiquity, as if his forefathers had been for a long time peo- ple of consideration. My informant was struck with the appearance of the place, and proposed to the countryman who was accompanying him to go up to it and take a nearer inspection. The reply was, ' Yo'd better not ; he'd threap yo' down th' loan. He's let fly at some folks' legs, and let shot lodge in 'em afore now, for going too near to his house.' And finding, on closer inquiry, that such was really the inhospitable custom of this moorland squire, the gentleman gave up his purpose. I believe that the savage yeoman is still living. CHARACTERS OF YORKSHIRE SQUIRES 21 Another squire, of more distinguished family and larger property — one is thence led to imagine of better education, but that does not always follow — died at his house, not many miles from Haworth, only a few years ago. His great amusement and occupation had been cock-fighting. When he was confined to his chamber with what he knew would be his last illness, he had his cocks brought up there, and watched the bloody battle from his bed. As his mortal disease increased, and it became impossible for him to turn so as to follow the combat, he had looking-glasses arranged in such a manner, around and above him, as he lay, that he could still see the cocks fighting. And in this manner he died. These are merely instances of eccentricity compared with the tales of positive violence and crime that have occurred in these isolated dwellings, which still linger in the memo- ries of the old people of the district, and some of which were doubtless familiar to the authors of 'Wuthering Heights' and 'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.' The amusements of the lower classes could hardly be expected to be more humane than those of the wealthy and better educated. The gentleman who has kindly furnished me with some of the particulars I have given remembers the bull-baitings at Rochdale, not thirty years ago. The bull was fastened by a chain or rope to a post in the river. To increase the amount of water, as well as to give their workpeople the opportunity of savage delight, the masters were accustomed to stop their mills on the day when the sport took place. The bull would sometimes wheel sud- denly round, so that the rope by which he was fastened swept those who had been careless enough to come within its range down into the water, and the good people of Rochdale had the excitement of seeing one or two of their neighbours drowned, as well as of witnessing the bull bait- ed, and the dogs torn and tossed. The people of Haworth were not less strong and full of character than their neighbours on either side of the hills. 22 LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BRONTE The village lies embedded in the moors, between the two counties, on the old road between Keighley and Colne. About the middle of the last century it became famous in the religious world as the scene of the ministrations of the Rev. William Grimshaw, 1 curate of Haworth for twenty years. Before this time it is probable that the curates were of the same order as one Mr. Nicholls, a Yorkshire clergyman, in the days immediately succeeding the Refor- mation, who was ' much addicted to drinking and company- keeping,' and used to say to his companions, ' You must not heed me but when I am got three feet above the earth,' that was, into the pulpit. Mr. Grimshaw's life was written by Newton," Cowper's friend ; and from it may be gathered some curious particu- lars of the manner in which a rough population were swayed and governed by a man of deep convictions and strong earnestness of purpose. It seems that he had not been in any way remarkable for religious zeal, though he had led a moral life, and been conscientious in fulfilling his parochial duties, until a certain Sunday in September 1744, when the servant, rising at five, found her master al- , ready engaged in prayer. She stated that, after remaining in his chamber for some time, he went to engage in re- 1 "William Grimshaw (1708-1763) was born at Brindle, Lancashire. He was educated at the grammar schools of Blackburn and Hesketh, and at Christ's College, Cambridge. Grimshaw became curate of Rochdale in 1731 and removed to Todmorden the same year. He was appointed to the perpetual curacy of Haworth in 1743, and there he encouraged the Methodist revival to such an extent that the Wesleys and Whitefield occupied his pulpit. He spent many years in ener- getic work, associating, to the scandal of some of his clerical brethren, with every phase of Nonconformist effort, and he assisted to build a Methodist chapel at Haworth. He died at Haworth and was buried in Luddenden Church in the neighbourhood. His published works consisted of four religious pamphlets. (The Rev. Canon Overton, in the Dictionary of National Biography.) ' John Newton (1725-1807). After being engaged for some years in the African slave trade he became in 1764 curate of Olney, and in 1779 rector of St. Mary Woolnoth, London. MR. GRIMSHAW OF HAWORTH 23 ligious exercises in the house of a parishioner, then home again to pray ; thence, still fasting, to the church, where, as he was reading the second lesson, he fell down, and, on his partial recovery, had to be led from the church. As he went out he spoke to the congregation, and told them not to disperse, as he had something to say to them, and would return presently. He was taken to the clerk's house, and again became insensible. His servant rubbed him, to restore the circulation ; and when he was brought to himself ' he seemed in a great rapture,' and the first words he uttered were, ' I have had a glorious vision from the third heaven.' He did not say what he had seen, but returned into the church, and began the ser- vice again, at two in the afternoon, and went on until seven. From this time he devoted himself, with the fervour of a Wesley, and something of the fanaticism of a Whitefleld, to calling out a religious life among his parishioners. They had been in the habit of playing at football on Sunday, us- ing stones for this purpose ; and giving and receiving chal- lenges from other parishes. There were horse races held on the moors just above the village, which were periodical sources of drunkenness and profligacy. Scarcely a wed- ding took place without the rough amusement of foot races, where the half-naked runners were a scandal to all decent strangers. The old custom of 'arvills,' or funeral feasts, led to frequent pitched battles between the drunken mourners. Such customs were the outward signs of the kind of people with whom Mr. Grimshaw had to deal. But, by various means, some of the most practical kind, he wrought a great change in his parish. In his preaching he was occasionally assisted by Wesley and Whitefleld, and at such times the little church proved much too small to hold the throng that poured in from distant villages or lonely moorland hamlets ; and frequently they were obliged to meet in the open air : indeed, there was not room enough in the church even for the communicants. Mr. White- 24 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE field' was once preaching in Haworth, and made use of some such expression as that he hoped there was no need to say much to this congregation, as they had sat under so pious and godly a minister for so many years ; ' whereupon Mr. Grimshaw stood up in his place, and said with a loud voice, "Oh, sir! for God's sake do not speak so. I pray you do not flatter them. I fear the greater part of them are going to hell with their eyes open."' But if they were so bound it was not for want of exertion on Mr. Grimshaw's part to prevent them. He used to preach twenty or thirty times a week in private houses. If he perceived any one inattentive to his prayers, he would stop and rebuke the offender, and not go on till he saw every one on their knees. He was very earnest in enforcing the strict ob- servance of Sunday, and would not even allow his parish- ioners to walk in the fields between services. He some- times gave out a very long psalm (tradition says the 119th), and while it was being sung he left the reading-desk, and taking a horsewhip went into the public-houses, and flog- ged the loiterers into church. They were swift who could escape the lash of the parson by sneaking out the back way. He had strong health and an active body, and rode far and wide over the hills, 'awakening' those who had previously had no sense of religion. To save time, and be no charge to the families at whose houses he held his prayer-meetings, he carried his provisions with him; all the food he took in the day on such occasions consisting simply of a piece of bread-and-butter, or dry bread and a raw onion. The horse races were justly objectionable to Mr. Grim- shaw ; they attracted numbers of profligate people to Ha- 1 George Whitefleld (1714-1770). Born at Gloucester ; he became a servitor at Pembroke College, Oxford. Took deacon's orders in 1736, and preached in Gloucester Cathedral. Joined Wesley in Georgia in 1738, and became associated with him in revivalist work. Separated from Wesley on the question of predestination in 1741. He died near Boston, Massachusetts, when on a preaching tour in America. 'ARVILLS' AT HA WORTH 25 worth, and brought a match to the combustible materials of the place, only too ready to blaze out into wickedness. The story is that he tried all means of persuasion, and even intimidation, to have the races discontinued, but in vain. At length, in despair, he prayed with such fervour of earnestness that the rain came down in torrents, and del- uged the ground, so that there was no footing for man or beast, even if the multitude had been willing to stand such a flood let down from above. And so Haworth races were stopped, and have never been resumed to this day. Even now the memory of this good man is held in reverence, and his faithful ministrations and real virtues are one of the boasts of the parish. But after his time I fear there was a falling back into the wild, rough, heathen ways, from which he had pulled them up, as it were, by the passionate force of his individ- ual character. He had built a chapel for the Wesleyan Methodists, and not very long after the Baptists established themselves in a place of worship. Indeed, as Dr. Whitaker says, the people of this district are ' strong religionists ;' only, fifty years ago their religion did not work down into their lives. Half that length of time back the code of morals seemed to be formed upon that of their Norse ances- tors. 1 Revenge was handed down from father to son as an hereditary duty ; and a great capability for drinking with- out the head being affected was considered as one of the manly virtues. The games of football on Sundays, with the challenges to the neighbouring parishes, were resumed, bringing in an influx of riotous strangers to fill the pub- lic-houses, and make the more sober-minded inhabitants long for good Mr. Grimshaw's stout arm and ready horse- whip. The old custom of ' arvills' was as prevalent as ever. The sexton, standing at the foot of the open grave, an- 1 This suggestion of Norse ancestry has been called in question by the inhabitants of the Haworth district. They claim to be purely of Saxon origin, the Danish and Norwegian settlers never having come as far east as Haworth. 26 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE nounced that the « arvill' would be held at the 'Black Ball/ or whatever public-house might be fixed upon by the friends of the dead ; and thither the mourners and their acquaint- ances repaired. The origin of the custom had been the necessity of furnishing some refreshment for those who came from a distance to pay the last mark of respect to a friend. In the ' Life of Oliver Hey wood ' there are two quotations which show what sorb of food was provided for 'arvills' in quiet Nonconformist connections in the seven- teenth century; the first (from Thoresby) tells of 'cold possets, stewed prunes, cake, and cheese ' as being the arvill after Oliver Hey wood's funeral. The second gives, as rather shabby, according to the notion of the times (1673), ' noth- ing but a bit of cake, a draught of wine, a piece of rose- mary, and a pair of gloves.' But the arvills at Haworth were often far more jovial doings. Among the poor the mourners were only expected to provide a kind of spiced roll for each person ; and the expense of the liquors — rum, or ale, or a mixture of both called 'dog's nose' — was generally defrayed by each guest placing some money on a plate, set in the middle of the table. Richer people would order a dinner for their friends. At the funeral of Mr. Oharnock (the next successor but one to Mr. Grimshaw in the incumbency) above eighty people were bid to the arvill, and the price of the feast was is. 6d. per head, all of which was defrayed by the friends of the deceased. As few * shirked their liquor,' there were very frequently 'up-and-down fights' before the close of the day ; sometimes with the horrid additions of ' parsing/ and ' gouging,' and biting. Although I have dwelt on the exceptional traits in the characteristics of these stalwart West Ridingers, such as they were in the first quarter of this century, if not a few years later, I have little doubt that in the everyday life of the people so independent, wilful, and full of grim humour, there would be much found even at present that would shock those accustomed only to the local manners of the south ; PRESENTATION TO THE LIVING OF HA WORTH 27 and, in return, I suspect the shrewd, sagacious, energetic Yorkshireman would hold such 'foreigners' in no small contempt. I have said it is most probable that where Haworth Church now stands there was once an ancient ' field kirk,' or oratory. It occupied the third or lowest class of ecclesi- astical structures, according to the Saxon law, and had no right of sepulture, or administration of sacraments. It was so called because it was built without enclosure, and open to the adjoining fields or moors. The founder, according to the laws of Edgar, was bound, without subtracting from his tithes, to maintain the ministering priest out of the re- maining nine parts of his income. After the Reformation the right of choosing their clergyman, at any of those chapels of ease which had formerly been field kirks, was vested in the freeholders and trustees, subject to the ap- proval of the vicar of the parish. But, owing to some neg- ligence, this right has been lost to the freeholders and trus- tees at Haworth ever since the days of Archbishop Sharp ; and the power of choosing a minister has lapsed into the hands of the Vicar of Bradford. So runs the account, ac- cording to one authority. Mr. Bronte says, ' This living has for its patrons the Vicar of Bradford and certain trustees. My predecessor took the living with the consent of the Vicar of Bradford, but in opposition to the trustees ; in consequence of which he was so opposed that, after only three weeks' possession, he was compelled to resign.' A Yorkshire gentleman, who has kindly sent me some additional information on this subject since the second edition of my work was published, writes thus : — 'The sole right of presentation to the incumbency of Haworth is vested in the Vicar of Bradford. He only can present. The funds, however, from which the clergyman's stipend mainly proceeds are vested in the hands of trus- tees, who have the power to withhold them, if a nominee is sent of whom they disapprove. On the decease of Mr. 28 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Charnoek, the Vicar first tendered the preferment to Mr. Bronte, and he went over to his expected cure. He was told that towards himself they had no personal objection, but as a nominee of the Vicar he would not be received. He therefore retired, with the declaration that if he could not come with the approval of the parish, his ministry could not be useful. Upon this the attempt was made to introduce Mr. Bedhead. ' When Mr. Redhead was repelled a fresh difficulty arose. Some one must first move towards a settlement, but a spirit being evoked which could not be allayed, action be- came perplexing. The matter had to be referred to some independent arbitrator, and my father was the gentleman to whom each party turned its eye. A meeting was con- vened, and the business settled by the Vicar's conceding the choice to the trustees, and the acceptance of the Vicar's presentation. That choice forthwith fell on Mr. Bronte, whose promptness and prudence had won their hearts.' In conversing on the character of the inhabitants of the West Riding. with Dr. Scoresby, who had been for some time Vicar of Bradford, he alluded to certain riotous transac- tions which had taken place at Haworth on the presenta- tion of the living to Mr., Redhead, and said that there had been so much in the particulars indicative of the character of the people, that he advised me to inquire into them. I have accordingly done so, and, from the lips of some of the survivors among the actors and spectators, I have learnt the means taken to eject the nominee of the Vicar. The previous incumbent had been the Mr. Charnoek whom I mentioned as next but one in succession to Mr. Grimshaw. He had a long illness which rendered him un- able to discharge his duties without assistance, and Mr. Redhead gave him occasional help, to the great satisfaction of the parishioners, and was highly respected by them during Mr. Charnock's lifetime. But the case was entirely altered when, at Mr. Charnock's death in 1819, they conceived that CHURCH RIOTS AT HA WORTH 29 the trustees had been unjustly deprived of their rights by the Vicar of Bradford, who appointed Mr. Redhead as per- petual curate. The first Sunday he officiated Haworth Church was filled even to the aisles, most of the people wearing the wooden clogs of the district. But while Mr. Redhead was reading the second lesson the whole congregation, as by one impulse, began to leave the church, making all the noise they could with clattering and clumping of clogs, till, at length, Mr. Redhead and the clerk were the only two left to continue the service. This was bad enough, but the next Sunday the proceedings were far worse. Then, as before, the church was well filled, but the aisles were left clear ; not a creature, not an obstacle was in the way. The reason for this was made evident about the same time in the reading of the service as the disturbances had begun the previous week. A man rode into the church upon an ass, with his face turned towards the tail, and as many old hats piled on his head as he could possibly carry. He began urging his beast round the aisles, and the screams, and cries, and laughter of the congregation entirely drowned all sound of Mr. Redhead's voice, and, I believe, he was obliged to desist. Hitherto they had not proceeded to anything like per- sonal violence; but on the third Sunday they must have been greatly irritated at seeing Mr. Redhead, determined to brave their will, ride up the- village street, accompanied by several gentlemen from Bradford. They put up their horses at the 'Black Bull' — the little inn close upon the churchyard, for the convenience of arvills as well as for other purposes — and went into church. On this the people followed, with a chimney-sweeper, whom they had employed to clean the chimneys of some out-buildings belonging to the church that very morning, and afterward plied with drink till he was in a state of solemn intoxication. They placed him right before the reading-desk, where his black- ened face nodded a drunken, stupid assent to all that 30 LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BEONTE Mr. Bedhead said. At last, either prompted by some mis- chief-maker or from some tipsy impulse, he clambered up the pulpit stairs, and attempted to embrace Mr. Bedhead. Then the profane fun grew fast and furious. Some of the more riotous pushed the soot -covered chimney-sweeper against Mr. Bedhead, as he tried to escape. They threw both him and his tormentor down on the ground in the churchyard where the soot -bag had been emptied, and though, at last, Mr. Bedhead escaped into the 'Black Bull,' the doors of which were immediately barred, the people raged without, threatening to stone him and his friends. One of my informants is an old man, who was the landlord of the inn at the time, and he stands to it that such was the temper of the irritated mob that Mr. Bedhead was in real danger of his life. This man, however, planned an escape for his unpopular inmates. The 'Black Bull' is near the top of the long, steep Haworth street, and at the bottom, close by the bridge, on the' road to Keighley, is a turnpike. Giving directions to his hunted guests to steal out at the back door (through which, probably, many a ne'er-do-weel has escaped from good Mr. Grimshaw's horse- whip), the landlord and some of the stable boys rode the horses belonging to the party from Bradford backwards and forwards before his front door, among the fiercely ex- pectant crowd. Through some opening between the houses those on the horses saw Mr. Bedhead and his friends creep- ing along behind the street; and then, striking spurs, they dashed quickly down to the turnpike ; the obnoxious cler- gyman and his friends mounted in haste, and had sped some distance before the people found out that their prey had escaped, and came running to the closed turnpike gate.'a This was Mr. Bedhead's last appearance at Haworth'lor 1 Mr. Redhead's son-in-law wrote to Mrs. Gaskell remonstrating with her concerning these pages, and indeed denying this account of his father-in-law's Haworth associations, but giving another as true, ' in which,' writes Mrs. Gaskell to a friend, ' I don't see any great differ- ence.' HAWORTH VILLAGE — MAIN STREET. CHURCH RIOTS AT HA WORTH 31 many years. Long afterwards he came to preach, and in his sermon to a large and attentive congregation he good- humonredly reminded them of the circumstances which I have described. They gave him a hearty welcome, for they owed him no grudge ; although before they had been ready enough to stone him, in order to maintain what they con- sidered to be their rights. The foregoing account, which I heard from two of the survivors, in the presence of a friend who can vouch for the accuracy of my repetition, has to a certain degree been con- firmed by a letter from the Yorkshire gentleman whose words I have already quoted. C I am not surprised at your difficulty in authenticating matter of fact. I find this in recalling what I have heard, and the authority on which I have heard anything. As to the donkey tale, I believe you are right. Mr. Redhead and Dr. Ramsbotham, his son-in-law, are no strangers to me. Each of them has a niche in my affections. 'I have asked, this day, two persons who lived in Haworth at the time to which you allude, the son and daughter of an acting trustee, and each of them between sixty and seventy years of age, and they assure me that the donkey was introduced. One of them says it was mounted by a half-witted man, seated with his face towards the tail of the beast, and having several hats piled on his head. Neither of my informants was, however, present at these edifying services. I believe that no movement was made in the church on either Sunday until the whole of the authorised reading - service was gone through, and I am sure that nothing was more remote from the more re- spectable party than any personal antagonism towards Mr. Redhead. He was one of the most amiable and worthy of men, a man to myself endeared by many ties and obliga- tions. I never heard before your book that the sweep ascended the pulpit steps. He was present, however, in the clerical habiliments of his order. ... I may also add that among the many who were present at those sad 32 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Sunday orgies the majority were non-residents, and came from those moorland fastnesses on the outskirts of the parish locally designated as " ovver th' steyres," one stage more remote than Haworth from modern civilisation. 'To an instance or two more of the rusticity of the inhabitants of the chapelry of Haworth I may introduce you. 'A Haworth carrier called at the office of a friend of mine to deliver a parcel on a cold winter's day, and stood with the door open. " Robin ! shut the door !" said the recipient. " Have you no doors in your country ?" " Yoi," responded Robin, " we hev, but we nivver steik 'em." I have frequently remarked the number of doors open even in winter. 'When well directed, the indomitable and independent energies of the natives of this part of the country are in- valuable ; dangerous when perverted. I shall never forget the fierce actions and utterances of one suffering from delirium tremens. Whether in its wrath, disdain, or its dismay, the countenance was infernal. I called once upon a time on a most respectable yeoman, and I was, in language earnest and homely, pressed to accept the hospitality of the house. I consented. The word to me was, " Nah, maister, yah mun stop an' hev sum te-ah, yah mun, eah, yah mun." A bountiful table was soon spread ; at all events time soon went while I scaled the hills to see " t' maire at wor thretty year owd, an' t' foil at wor fower." On sitting down to the table, a venerable woman officiated, and after filling the cups she thus addressed me: "Nah, maister, yah mun loawze th' taible " (loose the table). The master said, " Shah meeans yah mun sey t' greyce." I took the hint and uttered the blessing. 'I spoke with an aged and tried woman at one time, who, after recording her mercies, stated, among others, her powers of speech, by asserting, " Thank the Lord, ah niwer wor a meilly-meouthed wumman." I feel particularly at fault in attempting the orthography of the dialect, but must HAWORTH CHARACTERISTICS 33 excuse myself by telling you that I once saw a letter in which the word I have just now used (excuse) was written "ecksqueaize" ! ' There are some things, however, which rather tend to soften the idea of the rudeness of Haworth. No rural dis- trict has been more markedly the abode of musical taste and acquirement, and this at a period when it was difficult to find them to the same extent apart from towns in advance of their times. I have gone to Haworth and found an orchestra to meet me, filled with local performers, vocal and instrumental, to whom the best works of Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Marcello, &c. &c, were familiar as household words. By knowledge, taste, and voice they were markedly separate from ordinary village choirs, and have been put in extensive requisition for the solo and chorus of many an imposing festival. One man ' still survives, who, for fifty years, has had one of the finest tenor voices I ever heard, and with it a refined and cultivated taste. To him and to others many inducements have been offered to migrate ; but the loom, the association, the mountain air have had charms enow to secure their continuance at home. I love the recollection of their performance ; the recollection extends over more than sixty years. The attachments, the antipathies, and the hospitalities of the district are ardent, hearty, and homely. Cordiality in each is the prominent characteris- tic. As a people, these mountaineers have ever been ac- cessible to gentleness and truth, so far as I have known them ; but excite suspicion or resentment, and they give emphatic and not impotent resistance. Compulsion they defy. ' I accompanied Mr. Heap on his first visit to Haworth after his accession to the vicarage of Bradford. It was on Easter Day, either 1816 or 1817. His predecessor, the ; venerable John Crosse, known as the " blind vicar," had i » This ' one man ' was Thomas Parker (1787-1866), ' the Yorkshire Braham,' who was buried at Oxenhope, near Haworth. 3 34 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE been inattentive to the vicarial claims. A searching in- vestigation had to be made and enforced, and as it pro- ceeded stout and sturdy utterances were not lacking on the part of the parishioners. To a spectator, though rude, they were amusing, and significant, foretelling what might be expected, and what was afterwards realised, on the ad- vent of a new incumbent, if they deemed him an intruder. 'From their peculiar parochial position and circum- stances, the inhabitants of the chapelry have been prompt, earnest, and persevering in their opposition to church rates. Although ten miles from the mother church, they were called upon to defray a large proportion of this obnoxious tax — I believe one-fifth. ' Besides this they had to maintain their own edifice, &e. &c. They resisted, therefore, with energy, that which they deemed to be oppression and injustice. By scores would they wend their way from the hills to attend a vestry meet- ing at Bradford, and in such service failed not to show less of the suaviter in modo than the fortiter in re. Happily such occasion for their action has not occurred in many years. ' The use of patronymics has been common in this locality. Inquire for a man by his Christian name and sur- name, and you may have some difficulty in finding him; ask, however, for " George o' Ned's/' or " Dick o' Bob's," or "Tom o' Jack's," as the case may be, and your difficulty is at an end. In many instances the person is designated by his residence. In my early years I had occasion to in- quire for Jonathan Whitaker, who owned a considerable farm in the township. I was sent hither and thither, until it occurred to me to ask for " Jonathan o' th' Gate." My difficulties were then at an end. Such circumstances arise out of the settled character and isolation of the natives. ' Those who have witnessed a Haworth wedding, when the parties were above the rank of labourers, will not easily forget the scene. A levy was made on the horses of the neighbourhood, and a merry cavalcade of mounted men and HAWORTH CHARACTERISTICS 35 women, single or double, traversed the way to Bradford Church. The inn and church appeared to be in natural connection, and, as the labours of the Temperance Society had then to begin, the interests of sobriety were not al- ways consulted. On remounting their steeds they com- menced with a race, and not unfrequently an inebriate or unskilful horseman or woman was put hors de combat. A race also was frequent at the end of these wedding expe- ditions, from the bridge to the toll-bar at Haworth. The racecourse you will know to be anything but level.' Into the midst of this lawless yet not unkindly popula- tion Mr. Bronte brought his wife and six little children, in February 1820. There are those yet alive who remember seven heavily laden carts lumbering slowly up the long stone street, bearing the 'new parson's' household goods to his future abode. One wonders how the bleak aspect of her new home — the low oblong stone parsonage, high up, yet with a still higher background of sweeping moors — struck on the gentle, delicate wife, whose health even then was failing. CHAPTBE III The Eev. Patrick Bronte is a native of the County Down in Ireland. 1 His father, Hugh Bronte, was left an orphan at an early age. He came from the south to the north of the island, and settled in the parish of Ahaderg, near Loughbrickland. There was some family tradition that, humble as Hugh Bronte's ' circumstances were, he was the descendant of an ancient family. But about this neither he nor his descendants have cared to inquire. He made an early marriage and reared and educated ten children on the proceeds of the few acres of land which he farmed. This large family were remarkable for great physical strength and much personal beauty. Even in his old age Mr. Bronte is a striking-looking man, above the common height, with a nobly shaped head and erect carriage. In his youth he must have been unusually handsome. He was born on Patrickmas Day (March 17) 1777, and early gave tokens of extraordinary quickness and intelli- gence. He had also his full share of ambition ; and of his 1 Hugh Bronte's father ' used to live in a farm on the banks of the Boyne, somewhere above Drogheda' (Dr. William Wright, T/w Brontes in Ireland). The late Dr. Wright (1837-1899) added some valuable facts to the history of the Irish Brontes, but his speculations concern- ing their origin and their influence on the novelists, Charlotte and Emily, were, for the most part, pure Action. 2 Hugh Bronte was married in 1776, in the parish church at Mag- herally, to Alice McClory, of Ballinasceaugh. Patrick Bronte was born in a cottage at Emdale, ' in the parish of Drumballyroney, and not in the parish of Ahaderg, or Aghaderg, as has been incorrectly stated ' (Wright). The nine other children were named William, Hugh, James, Welsh, Jane, Mary, Rose, Sarah, and Alice.' THE REV. PATRICK BRONTE 37 strong sense and forethought there is a proof in the fact that, knowing that his father could afford him no pecun- iary aid, and that he must depend upon his own exertions, he opened a public school at the early age of sixteen ; and this mode of living he continued to follow for five or six years. 1 He then became a tutor in the family of the Rev. Mr. Tighe, rector of Drumgooland parish. Thence he proceeded to St. John's College, Cambridge, where he was entered in July 1802, being at the time five-and-twenty years of age. After nearly four years' residence he ob- tained his B.A. degree, and was ordained to a curacy in Essex, whence he removed into Yorkshire. The course of life of which this is the outline shows a powerful and remarkable character, originating and pursuing a purpose in a resolute and independent manner. Here is a youth — a boy of sixteen — separating himself from his family, and de- termining to maintain himself ; and that not in the hered- itary manner by agricultural pursuits, but by the labour of his brain. I suppose, from what I have heard, that Mr. Tighe be- came strongly interested in his children's tutor, and may have aided him not only in the direction of his studies, but in the suggestion of an English University education, and in advice as to the mode in which he should obtain en- trance there." Mr. Bronte has now no trace of his Irish 1 The statement in the text is not quite accurate. Patrick Bronte began life as a hand -loom weaver. At sixteen he was appointed teacher of Glascar School, attached to Glascar Hill Presbyterian Church, and some two years later he became master of the parish school of Drumballyroney, attached to the Episcopalian Church, of which the Rev. Thomas Tighe was rector, as also of the allied parish of Drumgooland for forty-three years. 2 Dr. Wright suggested that it was probably with his own savings as teacher at Drumballyroney that Patrick Bronte proceeded to St. John's College, Cambridge. At Cambridge, where he was entered in October 1802, he obtained one of the Hare Exhibitions, one of the Duchess of Suffolk's Exhibitions, and the Goodman Exhibition. Hje took his B.A. degree in April 1806. At College he knew Henry 38 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE origin remaining in his speech ; he never could have shown his Celtic descent in the straight Greek lines and long oval of his face ; but at five-and-twenty, fresh from the only.jjjg he had ever known, to present himself at the gates of If. John's proved no little determination of will and scorai of ridicule. 1 While at Cambridge he became one of a corps of volun- teers, who were then being called out all over the country to resist the apprehended invasion by the French. I have heard him allude, in late years, to Lord PalmerstoSfias one who had often been associated with him then in the mimic military duties which they had to perform. We take him up now settled as a curate at Hartshead, in Yorkshire — far removed from his birthplace and all his Irish connections ; with whom, indeed, he cared little to keep up any intercourse, and whom he never, I believe, re- visited after becoming a student at Cambridge." Kirke White (1785-1806), the poet, who was a sizar at St. John's at the same time. 1 Mr. Bronte's first curacy was at Wethersfield, in Essex, in 1806 ; his second was at Wellington, Salop, in 1809 ; his third at Dewsbury, in 1809 ; his fourth at Hartshead-eum-Clifton, near Huddersfield, in 1811. In 1815 he removed to Thornton, near Bradford, where his younger children Charlotte, Patrick Branwell, Emily Jane, and Anne were born, and in 1820 he became perpetual incumbent of Haworth. 8 Patrick Bronte regularly sent money to his family in Ireland from the moment he had any to send. Some of the money obtained from his scholarship went to his mother, and Dr. Wright declares (Brontes in Ireland) that she always had twenty pounds a year from him. In his will Patrick Bronte says, ' 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.' He certainly sent a copy of the fourth edition of Jane Eyre to his brother Hugh, although I doubt the sug- gestion which has been made that a copy of the first edition of that book was sent by Charlotte Bronte to her Irish relatives. In any case Mr. Bronte visited Ireland at least once. Soon after his ordination he preached in Ballyroney Church. MR. AND MRS. BRANWELL 39 Hartshead is a very small village, lying to the east of Huddersfield and Halifax ; and from its high situation — on a mound, as it were, surrounded by a circular basin — com- manding a magnificent view. Mr. Bronte resided here for five years ; and, while the incumbent of Hartshead, he wooed and married Maria Branwell. She was the third daughter of Mr. Thomas Branwell, merchant, of Penzance. Her mother's maiden name was Oarne ; and, both on father's and mother's side, the Bran- well family were sufficiently well descended to enable them to mix in the best society that Penzance then afforded. Mr. and Mrs. Branwell would be living — their family of four daughters and one son, still children — during the ex- istence of that primitive state of society which is well de- scribed by Dr. Davy in the life of his brother. 1 ' In the same town, when the population was about 2,000 persons, there was only one carpet, the floors of rooms were sprinkled with sea sand, and there was not a single silver fork. ' At that time, when our colonial possessions were very limited, our army and navy on a small scale, and there was comparatively little demand for intellect, the younger sons of gentlemen were often of necessity brought up to some trade or mechanical art, to which no discredit, or loss of caste, as it were, was attached. The eldest son, if not al- lowed to remain an idle country squire, was sent to Oxford or Cambridge, preparatory to his engaging in one of the three liberal professions of divinity, law, or physic ; the second son was perhaps apprenticed to a surgeon or apothe- cary, or a solicitor ; the third to a pewterer or watchmaker ; the fourth to a packer or mercer, and so on, were there more to be provided for. ' After their apprenticeships were finished the young men almost invariably went to London to perfect themselves in 1 Dr. John Davy's Memoirs of the Life of Sir Humphry Davy, Bart., was published in 1836. 40 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE their respective trade or art ; and on their return into the country, when settled in business, they were not excluded from what would now be considered genteel society. Visit- ing then was conducted differently from what it is at pres- ent. Dinner parties were almost unknown, excepting at the annual feast time. Christmas, too, was then a season of peculiar indulgence and conviviality, and a round of entertainments were given, consisting of tea and supper.- Excepting at these two periods, visiting was almost entirely confined to tea parties, which assembled at three o'clock, broke up at nine, and the amusement of the evening was commonly some round game at cards, as Pope Joan, or Commerce. The lower class was then extremely ignorant, and all classes were very superstitious ; even the belief in witches maintained its ground, and there was an almost unbounded credulity respecting the supernatural and mon- strous. There was scarcely a parish in the Mount's Bay that was without a haunted house, or a spot to which some story of supernatural horror was not attached. Even when I was a boy, I remember a house in the best street of Penzance which was uninhabited because it was believed to be haunt- ed, and which young people walked by at night at a quick- ened pace, and with a beating heart. Amongst the middle and higher classes there was little taste for literature, and still less for science, and their pursuits were rarely of a dignified or intellectual kind. Hunting, shooting, wrest- ling, cock-fighting, generally ending in drunkenness, were what they most delighted in. Smuggling was carried on to a great extent ; and drunkenness, and a low state of morals, were naturally associated with it. Whilst smuggling was the means of acquiring wealth to bold and reckless advent- urers, drunkenness and dissipation occasioned the ruin of many respectable families.' I have given this extract because I conceive it bears some reference to the life of Miss Bronte, whose strong mind and vivid imagination must have received their first impres- sions either from the servants (in that simple household MISS BRANWELL'S LETTERS 41 almost friendly companions during the greater part of the day), retailing the traditions or the news of Haworth vil- lage ; or from Mr. Bronte, whose intercourse with his chil- dren appears to have been considerably restrained, and whose life, both in Ireland and at Cambridge, had been spent under peculiar circumstances ; or from her aunt, Miss Branwell, who came to the parsonage, when Charlotte was only six or seven years old, to take charge of her dead sister's family. This aunt was older than Mrs. Bronte, and had lived longer among the Penzance society, which Dr. Davy describes. But in the Branwell family itself the violence and irregularity of nature did not exist. They were Methodists, and, as far as I can gather, a gentle and sincere piety gave refinement and purity of character. 1 Mr. Bran- well, the father, according to his descendants' account, was a man of musical talent. He and his wife lived to see all their children grown up, and died within a year of each other — he in 1808, she in 1809, when their daughter Maria was twenty-five or twenty-six years of age. I have been 1 Investigation at Penzance will not now throw much new light on the Branwells. They are burled in a vault in the churchyard of St. Mary's, and initials only mark the last resting-place of Charlotte Bronte's maternal grandfather and grandmother. The vault is marked ' T. B. 1808,' and is near the front door of the south aisle of the church. When the vault was opened in 1897 the sexton copied the names from various coffins — 'Benjamin,' 'Johanna,' 'Maria,' 'Eliza- beth,' ' Jane' — and there were other Branwells there. Thomas Bran- well, who is described as Assistant of the Corporation, was buried on April 8, 1808. His wife was Anne Came, and they were married at Madron — the Mother Church of Penzance — on November 28, 1768. Mrs. Branwell was buried on December 22, 1809. Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Branwell had one son and six daughters. The name is still not uncommon in Cornwall and even in Penzance, but the last surviv- ing relatives, two or three years ago, appeared to be a Miss Charlotte Branwell and her brother, Thomas Bronte Branwell. The former, who died in 1898, had named her house ' Shirley,' after one of the works of her remote cousin. Miss Branwell possessed some interest- ing miniatures of Thomas Branwell and his wife, and of Maria Bronte, and Elizabeth Branwell, the aunt of the Bronte children who died at Haworth. 42 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE permitted to look over a series of nine letters, which were addressed by her to Mr. Bronte during the brief term of their engagement in 1812. They are full of tender grace of expression and feminine modesty; pervaded by the deep piety to which I have alluded as a family characteristic. I shall make one or two extracts from them, to show what sort of a person was the mother of Charlotte Bronte" : but first I must state the circumstances under which this Cornish lady met the scholar from Ahaderg, near Lough T brickland. In the early summer of 1812, when she would be twenty-nine, she came to visit her uncle, the Reverend John Fennell, who was at that time a clergyman- of the Church of England, living near Leeds, but who had pre- viously been a Methodist minister. 1 Mr. Bronte was the incumbent of Hartshead ; and had the reputation in the neighbourhood of being a very handsome fellow, full of Irish enthusiasm, and with something of an Irishman's capability of falling easily in love. Miss Branwell was extremely small in person ; not pretty, but very elegant, and always dressed with a quiet simplicity of taste, which accorded well with her general character, and of which some of the details call to mind the style of dress preferred by her daughter for her favourite heroines. Mr. Bronte was soon captivated by the little, gentle creature, and this time declared that it was for life. In her first letter to him, dated August 26, she seems almost surprised to find herself engaged, and alludes to the short time which she has known him. In the rest there are touches reminding one of Juliet's But trust me, gentleman ; I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange. There are plans for happy picnic parties to Kirkstall Abbey, in the glowing September days, when * Uncle, Aunt, 1 Mr. Fennell was at this time head-master of "Woodhouse Grove Wesleyan Academy. He afterwards joined tho Church of England, and was for a short time curate for the Rev. John Crosse, vicar of Bradford. He died at Cross Stones Vicarage, near Todmorden. MISS BRANWELL'S LETTERS 43 and Cousin Jane' — the last engaged to a Mr. Morgan, 1 an- other clergyman — were of the party; all since dead, ex- cept Mr. Bronte. There was no opposition on the part of any of her friends to her engagement. Mr. and Mrs. Fennell sanctioned it, and her brother and sisters in far-away Pen- zance appear fully to have approved of it. In a letter dated September 18 she says : — ' For some years I have been perfectly my own mistress, subject to no control whatever ; so far from it that my sis- ters, who are many years older than myself, and even my dear mother, used to consult me on every occasion of im- portance, 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 dis- advantage, and although, I thank God, it had never led me into error, yet, in circumstances of uncertainty and doubt, I have deeply felt the want of a guide and instructor.' In the same letter she tells Mr. Bronte that she has informed her sisters of her engagement, and that she should not see them again so soon as she had intended. Mr. Fennell, her uncle, also writes to them by the same post in praise of Mr. Bronte. The journey from Penzance to Leeds in those days was both very long and very expensive ; the lovers had not much money to spend in unnecessary travelling, and, as Miss Branwell had neither father nor mother living, it ap- peared both a discreet and seemly arrangement that the marriage should take place from her uncle's house. There was no reason either why the engagement should be pro- longed. They were past their first youth ; they had means sufficient for their unambitious wants ; the living of Harts- head is rated in the ' Clergy List ' at 2021. per annum, and she was in the receipt of a small annuity (501., I have been 1 The Rev. William Morgan (1789-1858), the first vicar of Christ Church, Bradford, and the author of several devotional works. He married Miss Fennell, the cousin of Mrs. Bronte. 44 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE told) by the will of her father. So, at the end of Septem- ber, the lovers began to talk about taking a house, for I suppose that Mr. Bronte up to that time had been in lodg- ings ; and all went smoothly and successfully with a view to their marriage in the ensuing winter, until November, when a misfortune happened, which she thus patiently and prettily describes : — ' 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, &c. On Saturday evening, about the time when 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, being 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 disas- trous circumstance which has occurred since I left my home.' The last of these letters is dated December 5. Miss Branwell and her cousin intended to set about making the wedding cake in the following week, so the marriage could not be far off. She had been learning by heart a ' pretty little hymn ' of Mr. Bronte's composing ; and reading Lord Lyttelton's 'Advice to a Lady/ on which she makes some pertinent and just remarks, showing that she thought as well as read. And so Maria Branwell fades out of sight: we have no more direct intercourse with her ; we hear of her as Mrs. Bronte, but it is as an invalid, not far from death ; still patient, cheerful, and pious. The writing of these letters is elegant and neat ; while there are allusions to household occupations — such as making the wedding cake — there are also allusions to the books she has read> MRS. BRONTE 45 or is reading, showing a well-cultivated mind. Without having anything of her daughter's rare talents, Mrs. Bronte must have been, I imagine, that unusual charac- ter, a well-balanced and consistent woman. The style of the letters is easy- and good, as is also that of a paper from the same hand, entitled 'The Advantages of Poverty in Religious Concerns,' which was written rather later, with a view to publication in some periodical. 1 She was married from her uncle's house in Yorkshire, on December 29, 1812 ; a the same day was also the wed- ding day of her younger sister, Charlotte Branwell, in dis- tant Penzance. I do not think that Mrs. Bronte ever re- visited Cornwall, but she has left a very pleasant impres- sion on the minds of those relations who yet survive ; they speak of her as 'their favourite aunt, and one to whom they, as well as all the family, looked up, as a person of talent and great amiability of disposition;' and, again, as 'meek and retiring, while possessing more than ordinary talents, which she inherited from her father ; and her piety was genuine and unobtrusive.' Mr. Bronte remained for five years at Hartshead, in the parish of Dewsbury. There he was married, and his two 1 The letters from which Mrs. Gaskell quotes the most interesting passages are printed in full in Charlotte Bronte and her Circle. One of them commences, 'My dear saucy Pat.' The essay, which is in my possession, consists of three sheets of quarto paper in a very neat handwriting, written on both sides of the page. It is signed ' M.' On the blank page at the end Mr. Bronte has endorsed the manuscript, 'The above was written by my dear wife, and sent for insertion in one of the periodical publications. Keep it as a memorial of her.' 8 The following announcement will be found in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1813, Vol. LXXXIII., Part I., p. 179, under Marriages:— 'Lately at Guiseley, near Bradford, by the Rev. W. Morgan, min- ister of Bierley, Rev. P. Bronte, B.A., minister of Hartshead-cum- Clifton, to Maria, third daughter of the late T. Bromwell, Esq. (sic), of Penzance. And at the same time, by the Rev. P. Bronte, Rev. W. Morgan to the only daughter of Mr. John Fennell, head - master of the Wesleyan Academy, near Bradford.' 46 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE children Maria and Elizabeth were born. 1 At the expira- tion of that period he had the living of Thornton, in Brad- ford parish. Some of those great West Riding parishes are almost like bishoprics for their amonnt of population and number of churches. Thornton Church' is a little episcopal chapel of ease, rich in Nonconformist monu- ments, as of Accepted Lister and his friend Dr. Hall. The neighbourhood is desolate and wild ; great tracts of bleak land, enclosed by stone dykes, sweeping up Clayton heights. The church itself looks ancient and solitary, and as if left behind by the great stone mills of a nourishing Indepen- dent firm, and the solid square chapel built by the mem- bers of that denomination. Altogether not so pleasant a place as Hartshead, with its ample outlook over cloud- shadowed, sun-flecked plain, and hill rising beyond hill to form the distant horizon. Here, at Thornton, Charlotte Bronte was born, on April 21, 1816. Fast on her heels followed Patrick Branwell, Emily Jane, and Anne. After the birth of this last daughter Mrs. Bronte's health began to decline. It is hard work to provide for the little tender wants of many young 1 Here is the copy of the registration of Maria Bronte's baptism at Hartshead cum-Clifton. Elizabeth was baptised at Thornton:— When Bap- tised Child's Christian Name Parents' Name Abode Quality, Trade, or Profession By whom the Ceremony was Performed Christ- ian Sur- name 1814, April 23 Maria, daughter of The Rev. Patrick minister of this church, and , Maria, his wife Bronte William Morgan, officiating Minister 2 The Old Bell Church at Thornton, in which Mr. Bronte preached, THE BRONTE BAPTISMAL REGISTER 47 children where the means are bnt limited. The necessaries of food and clothing are much more easily supplied than the almost equal necessaries of attendance, care, soothing, amusement, and sympathy. Maria Bronte, the eldest of six, could only have been a few months more than six years old when Mr. Bronte' removed to Haworth, on February 25, 1820. Those who knew her then describe her as grave, thoughtful, and quiet, to a degree far beyond her years. is now a ruin. A new church exactly opposite contains the registers of the baptisms of the Bronie children, as follows : ' Baptisms solemnised in the Parish of Bradford and Ohapelry of Thornton, in the County of York. When Bap- tised Child's Christian Name Parents' Name Abode Quality, Trade, or Profession By whom the Ceremony was Performed Christ- ian Sur- name 1815, August 26 Elizabeth Patrick and Maria Bronte Thorn- ton Minister J. Fennell, officiating Minister 1816, June 29 Charlotte, daughter of The Rev. Patrick and Maria Bronte Thorn- ton Minister of Thorn- ton Wm. Morgan, Minister of Christ Church, Bradford 1817, July 23 Patrick Bran well, son of Patrick and Maria Bronte Thorn- ton Minister Jno. Fennell, officiating Minister 1818, August 20 Emily Jane, daughter of The Rev. Patrick and Maria Bronte, A.B. Thorn- ton Parson- age Minister of Thorn- ton Wm. Morgan Minister of, Christ Church, Bradford 1820, March 25 Anne, daughter of The Rev. Patrick and Maria Bronte' Minister of Haworth Wm. Morgan, Minister of Christ Church, in Bradford ' 48 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ) Her childhood was no childhood ; the cases are rare in which the possessors of great gifts have known the bless- ings of that careless, happy time ; their unusual powers stir within them, and, instead of the natural life of per- ception—the objective, as the Germans call it — they begin the deeper lifo of reflection — the subjective. Little Maria Bronte was delicate and small in appearance, which seemed to give greater effect to her wonderful pre- cocity of intellect. She must have been her mother's companion and helpmate in many a household and nursery experience, for Mr. Bronte was, of course, much engaged in his study ; and, besides, he was not naturally fond of children, and felt their frequent appearance on the scene both as a drag on his wife's strength and as an' interruption to the comfort of the household. Haworth Parsonage is, as I mentioned in the first chapter, an oblong stone house, facing down the hill on which the village stands, and with the front door right opposite to the western door of the church, distant about a hundred yards. Of this space twenty yards or so in depth are occu- pied by the grassy garden, which is scarcely wider than the house. The graveyard lies on two sides of the house and garden. The house consists of four rooms on each floor, and is two stories high. When the Brontes took possession they made the larger parlour, to the left of the entrance, the family sitting-room, while that on the right was appropri- ated to Mr. Bronte as a study. Behind this was the kitchen ; behind the former, a sort of flagged store room. 1 Upstairs were four bed-chambers of similar size, with the addition of a small apartment over the passage, or 'lobby,' as we call it in the north. This was to the front, the staircase going up right opposite to the entrance. There is the pleasant old fashion of window seats all through the house ; and one can see that the parsonage was built in the days 1 The ' flagged store room ' was converted into a study for Mr. Nicholls during his brief married life. It reverted to its earlier pur- pose during the incumbency of Mr. Wade. ME. BRONTE'S EXCLUSIVENESS 49 when wood was plentiful, as the massive stair banisters, and the wainscots, and the heavy window frames tes- tify. _ This little extra upstairs room was appropriated to the children. Small as it was, it was not called a nursery ; in- deed, it had not the comfort of a fireplace in it ; the ser- vants — two affectionate, warm-hearted sisters, who cannot now speak of the family without tears — called the room the 'children's study.' The age of the eldest student was perhaps by this time seven. The people in Haworth were none of them very poor. Many of them were employed in the neighbouring worsted mills ; a few were millowners and manufacturers in a small way ; there were also some shopkeepers for the humbler and everyday wants ; but for medical advice, for stationery, books, law, dress, or dainties the inhabitants had to go to Keighley. There were several Sunday schools ; the Bap- tists had taken the lead in instituting them, the Wesleyans had followed, the Church of England had brought up the rear. Good Mr. Grimshaw, Wesley's friend, had built a humble Methodist chapel, but it stood close to the road leading on to the moor ; the Baptists then raised a place of worship, with the distinction of being a few yards back from the highway ; and the Methodists have since thought it well to erect another and larger chapel, still more retired from the road. Mr. Bronte was ever on kind and friendly terms with each denomination as a body ; but from individ- uals in the village the family stood aloof, unless some direct service was required, from the first. 'They kept them- selves very close,' is the account given by those who re- member Mr. and Mrs. Bronte's coming amongst them. I believe many of the Yorkshire men would object to the system of parochial visiting; their surly independence would revolt from the idea of any one having a right, from his office, to inquire into their condition, to counsel or to admonish them. The old hill spirit lingers in them which coined the rhyme, inscribed on the under part of one of the 50 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE seats in the sedilia of Whalley Abbey, not many miles from Haworth — Who mells wi' what another does Had best go home and shoe his goose. I asked an inhabitant of a district close to Haworth what sort of a clergyman they had at the church which he attended. ' A rare good one,' said he : 'he minds his own business, and ne'er troubles himself with ours.' Mr. Bronte was faithful in visiting the sick and all those who sent for him, and diligent in attendance at the schools; and so was his daughter Charlotte too; but, cherishing and valuing privacy themselves, they were perhaps over-deli- cate in not intruding upon the privacy of others. From their first going to Haworth their walks were directed rather out towards the heathery moors, sloping upwards behind the parsonage, than towards the long descending village street. A good old woman, who came to nurse Mrs. Bronte in the illness — an internal cancer— which grew and gathered upon her, not many months after her arrival at Haworth, tells me that at that time the six little creatures used to walk out, hand in hand, towards the glorious wild moors, which in after days they loved so passionately ; the elder ones taking thoughtful care for the toddling wee things. They were grave and silent beyond their years ; subdued, probably, by the presence of serious illness in the house; for, at the time which my informant speaks of, Mrs. Bronte was confined to the bedroom from which she never came forth alive. ' You would not have known there was a child in the house, they were such still, noiseless, good little creatures. Maria would shut herself up' (Maria, but seven !) ' in the children's study with a newspaper and be able to tell one everything when she came out ; debates in Parliament, and I don't know what all. She was as good as a mother to her sisters and brother. But there never THE BRONTE CHILDREN 51 were such good children. I used to think them spirit- less, they were so different from any children I had ever seen. They were good little creatures. Emily was the prettiest.' Mrs. Bronte was the same patient, cheerful person as we have seen her formerly; very ill, suffering great pain, but seldom if ever complaining ; at her better times begging her nurse to raise her in bed to let her see her clean the grate, ' because she did it as it was done in Cornwall ;' f de- votedly fond of her husband, who warmly repaid her affec- tion, and suffered no one else to take the night-nursing ; but, according to my informant, the mother was not very anxious to see much of her children, probably because the sight of them, knowing how soon they were to be left motherless, would have agitated her too much. So the little things clung quietly together, for their" father was busy in his study and in his parish, or with their mother, and they took their meals alone ; sat reading, or whispering low, in the 'children's study,' or wandered out on the hillside, hand in hand. The ideas of Rousseau and Mr. Day 1 on education had filtered down through many classes, and spread themselves widely out. I imagine Mr. Bronte must have formed some of his opinions on the management of children from these two theorists. His practice was not half so wild or extraor- dinary as that to which an aunt of mine was subjected by a disciple of Mr. Day's. She had been taken by this gen- tleman and his wife, to live with them as their adopted child, perhaps about flve-and-twenty years before the time of which I am writing. They were wealthy people and kind-hearted, but her food and clothing were of the very simplest and rudest description, on Spartan principles. A healthy, merry child, she did not much care for dress or eating ; but the treatment which she felt as a real cruelty 1 Rousseau (1713-78) published Emile in 1762. Thomas Day (1748- 89) published The History of Sandford and Merton in 1783-89. 52 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE was this : They had a carriage, in which she and the fa- vourite dog were taken an airing on alternate days ; the creature whose turn it was to he left at home being tossed in a blanket — an operation which my aunt especially dreaded. Her affright at the tossing was probably the reason why it was persevered in. Dressed-up ghosts had become common, and she did not care for them, so the blanket exercise was to be the next mode of hardening her nerves. It is well known that Mr. Day broke off his inten- tion of marrying Sabrina, the girl whom he had educated for this purpose, because, within a few weeks of the time fixed for the wedding, she was guilty of the frivolity, while on a visit from home, of wearing thin sleeves. Yet Mr. Day and my aunt's relations were benevolent people, only strongly imbued with the crotchet that by a system of train- ing might be educed the hardihood and simplicity of the ideal savage, forgetting the terrible isolation of feelings and habits which their pupils would experience in the future life which they must pass among the corruptions and refinements of civilisation. Mr. Bronte wished to make his children hardy, and in- different to the pleasures of eating and dress. In the lat- ter he succeeded, as far as regarded his daughters. His strong, passionate Irish nature was, in general, com- pressed down with resolute stoicism ; but it was there not- withstanding all his philosophic calm and dignity of de- meanour ; though he did not speak when he was annoyed or displeased. Mrs. Bronte, whose sweet nature thought invariably of the bright side, would say, ' Ought I not to be thankful that he never gave me an angry word?" 1 There was much discussion rife concerning Mr. Bronte during the years immediately following the publication of Mrs. Gaskell's Me- moir. Certain aspects of his character were dealt with in a singularly unflattering way by Mrs. Gaskell in the first edition, but, owing to Mr. Bronte's remonstrances, the prejudicial statements were with- drawn. One of Mrs. Gaskell's informants clearly had an undue prej- udice against the old incumbent of Haworth, but the unfavourable THE FATHER OP THE BRONTES 53 Mr. Bronte was an active walker, stretching away over the moors for many miles, noting in his mind all natural signs of wind and weather, and keenly observing all the wild creatures that came and went in the loneliest sweeps of the hills. He has seen eagles stooping low in search of food for their young; no eagle is ever seen on those moun- tain slopes now. He fearlessly took whatever side in local or national pol- itics appeared to him right. In the days of the Luddites he had been for the peremptory interference of the law, at a time when no magistrate could be found to act, and all the property of the West Riding was in terrible danger. He became unpopular then among the mill-workers, and he esteemed his life unsafe if he took his long and lonely walks unarmed ; so he began the habit, which has continued to this day, of invariably carrying a loaded pistol about with him. It lay on his dressing-table with his watch ; with his watch it was put on in the morning ; with his watch it was taken on* at night. 1 view was not shared by others who have been heard since Mrs. Gaskell wrote. Mr. Bronte in any case won the kindly judgment of his son- in-law, Mr. Nicholls, and the servant — Martha Brown— who lived with him until his death. Both asserted, and Mr. Nicholls is still alive to assert, that Mr. BrontS, with some hastiness of temper, was a good husband and father. Sir Wemyss Reid, however (Nineteenth Century, November 1896), whose recollections of the Bronte traditions go fur- ther back than those of any one else who has writteu on the subject, declares that Mrs. Gaskell had abundant ground for her estimate, and that Mr. Bronte ' in his youth and early manhood ' was ' an ex- tremely difficult person to live with.' But so also are many estimable men who, not being the parents of children of genius, succeed in pass- ing out of life without the world's condemnation. 1 Mr. Nicholls declares that Mr. Bronte's pistol-shooting was merely the harmless recreation of a country clergyman. There are traces of a bullet shot on the old tower at Ha worth, but this, although pointed out as Mr. Bronte's exploit, would seem to have been the frolic of a curate. After the fashion of most of his contemporaries he frequently carried a pistol or a gun for his protection at night, and Nancy Garrs declared that at most he might have tried his skill as a marksman by 54 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Many years later, during his residence at Haworth, there was a strike ; the hands in the neighbourhood felt them- selves aggrieved by the masters, and refused to work : Mr. Bronte thought that they had been unjustly and unfairly firing at his own pigeons. The matter is dealt with at length in an in- terview with Nancy Garrs, one of the Haworth servants (Seckmond- toike Herald and Courier, September 22, 1882): — ' Those who have read Mrs. Gaskell's book (and who in this locality has not ?) will remember the extraordinary stories she tells of Mr. Bronte's inflammable temper — of his tearing into shreds a silk dress belonging to his wife, which he did not approve of her wearing ; of his sawing off chair-backs and firing off pistols in the back yard in his tre- mendous fits of passion. They will remember also her account of the more than Spartan rigour with which he ruled his household, and bis cold and unsympathetic conduct towards his gifted children. It is rather singular that Nancy denies nearly all the sensational stories told by the imaginative lady, and maintains strongly that Mr. BronlS had a calm and even tern perament, and, though somewhat of a recluse, regard- ed with the most affectionate solicitude every member of his family, and was always kind and considerate to the humblest of his household. The story of the cutting of Mrs. Bronte's silk dress into shreds, which is repeated in Mr. T. "Wemyss Reid's book, is stoutly denied by Nancy, who lived in the house at the time, and therefore, as she energetically observed to us, knew " all about it better than any book-writer." The story given by this eye-witness is as follows : Mrs. Bronte had bought a buff print dress, which was made up by her dressmaker in the then fashionable style, with balloon sleeves and a long waist. When Mr. Bronte came in to dinner and saw this new article of dress, which would doubtless strike his unsophisticated mind as being fearfully and wonderfully made, he began to banter his wife good-humouredly con- cerning it, commenting with special awe and wonder on the marvel- lous expanse of sleeve. Mrs. Bronte took all the raillery in good part, and the meal passed off pleasantly enough. In the afternoon the dress was changed and left in the room. In going into the apartment soon after Mrs. Bronte found the offending garment where she had left it, but, alas ! the beautiful balloon sleeves had disappeared. Remember- ing the badinage which had passed a few hours before, she was quite aware who had done the ruthless deed, but she does not appear to have bewailed the departed glories of her dress very much, for she soon re- appeared in the kitchen with it, and laughingly held it out to view, exclaiming, "Look, Nancy, what master has done 1 Never mind, it will do for you," and so she handed the beautiful buff print to her de- THE EEV. MR. BRONTE 55 treated, and he assisted them by all the means in his power to 'keep the wolf from their doors,' and avoid the incubus of debt. Several of the more influential inhabitants of Haworth and the neighbourhood were mill-owners ; they remonstrated pretty sharply with him, but he believed that his conduct was right, and persevered in it. His opinions might be often both wild and erroneous, his principles of action eccentric and strange, his views of life partial, and almost misanthropical ; but not one opinion that he held could be stirred or modified by any worldly motive : he acted up to his principles of action ; and, if any touch of misanthropy mingled with his view of mankind in general, his conduct to the individuals who came into per- sonal contact with him did not agree with such view. It is true that he had strong and vehement prejudices, and was obstinate in maintaining them, and that he was not dramatic enough in his perceptions to see how miserable others might be in a life that to him was all-sufficient. But I do not pretend to be able to harmonise points of character, and account for them, and bring them all into one consistent and intelligible whole. The family with whom I have now to do shot their roots down deeper than I can penetrate. I cannot measure them, much less is it for me to judge them. I have named these instances of eccentricity in the father because I hold the knowledge of them to be necessary for a right understanding of the life of his daughter. lighted Abigail, who would doubtless find the abseace of the balloon sleeves a decided advantage. Soon after Mr. Bronte entered the kitchen with a parcel containing a new silk dress, which he had been over to Keighley to buy, and which he presented to his wife, in place of the one whose monstrous development of sleeve had so strongly moved to action his organ of destructiveness; and thus the tragic business ended, in a manner that would, no doubt, be pleasing to all concerned. Our readers, we are sure, will agree with us in thinking that Nancy's version is decidedly more pleasing than Mrs. Gaskell's, and as she actu- ally saw the occurrence, which is more than either that writer or her informant can say, we are inclined to think it is more probable also.' 56 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Mrs. Bronte died in September 1821, and the lives of those quiet children must have become quieter and lonelier still. Charlotte tried hard, in after years, to recall the remembrance of her mother, and could bring back two or three pictures of her. One was when, some time in the evening light, she had been playing with her little boy, Patrick Bran well, in the parlour of Haworth Parsonage. But the recollections of four or five years old are of a very fragmentary character. 1 Owing to some illness of the digestive organs Mr. Bronte was obliged to be very careful about his diet ; and, in order to avoid temptation, and possibly to have the quiet neces- sary for digestion, he had begun, before his wife's death, to take his dinner alone — a habit which he always retained. He did not require companionship ; therefore he did not seek it, either in his walks or in his daily life. The quiet regularity of his domestic hours was only broken in upon by church - wardens, and visitors on parochial business ; and sometimes by a neighbouring clergyman, who came down the hills, across the moors, to mount up again to Haworth Parsonage, and spend an evening there. But, owing to Mrs. Bronte's death so soon after her husband had removed into the district, and also to the distances, and the bleak country to be traversed, the wives of these 1 There are two interesting reminiscences of Mrs. Bronte extant ; one isacopyof 'Thomas it Kempis,' John Wesley's abridgment. It is inscribed ' M. Branwell, July 1807.' This book was evidently brought by Mrs. Bronte from Penzance. On the fly-leaf Charlotte Bronte has written as follows : — • ' 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 & Kempis is. I saw a reward of 10.000Z. offered in the Leeds Mercury to any one who could find out for a certainty who is the author.' The other relic is a sampler containing the usual alphabet that chil- dren work or worked, and 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, 'followed by the name:— Ma/ria Branwell ended her sampler April 15, 1791. THE HA WORTH SERVANTS 57 clerical friends did not accompany their husbands ; and the daughters grew up out of childhood into girlhood be- reft, iu a singular manner, of all such society as would have been natural to their age, sex, and station. But the children did not want society. To small infan- tine gaieties they were unaccustomed. They were all in all to each other. I do not suppose that there ever was a family more tenderly bound to each other. Maria read the newspapers, and reported intelligence to her younger sisters which it is wonderful they could take an interest in. But I suspect that they had no 'children's books,' and that their eager minds 'browsed undisturbed among the wholesome pasturage of English literature/ as Charles Lamb expresses it. The servants of the household appear to have been much impressed with the little Brontes' ex- traordinary cleverness. In a letter which I had from him on this subject their father writes, ' The servants often said that they had never seen such a clever little child' (as Charlotte), ' and that they were obliged to be on their guard as to what they said and did before her. Yet she and the servants always lived on good terms with each other.' These servants are yet alive ; elderly women residing in Bradford. 1 They retain a faithful and fond recollection of 1 The servants were Sarah and Nancy Garrs, Martha Brown, and Tabitha. Nancy Malone, born Garrs, or de Garrs, was the daughter of a shoemaker of Bradford. At twelve years of age she was engaged by Mrs. Bronte, then at Thornton, as nurse -girl, aDd she nursed Charlotte, Emily, Branwell, and Anne. She accompanied the family to Haworth, and remained there as cook, her younger sister, Sarah, taking her place as nurse. She remained with the Brontes until she married and became Mrs. Wainwright. At a later date she married John Malone, a workingman. She died in 1886 in the Bradford workhouse in her eighty - second year. Her sister Sarah also married, and, as Mrs. Newsome, is still alive in Iowa City, U.S.A. Nancy Malone disliked all disparaging references to Mr. Bronte, and declared that ' a kinder master never drew breath.' Martha Brown was a native of Haworth and servant with the Brontes from her tenth year, when she went to assist 'Tabby.' She became housekeeper at the parsonage 58 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Charlotte, and speak of her unvarying kindness from the 'time when she was ever such a little child,' when she would not rest till she had got the old disused cradle sent from the parsonage to the house where the parents of one of them lived, to serve for a little infant sister. They tell of one long series of kind and thoughtful. actions from this early period to the last weeks of Charlotte Bronte's life; and, though she had left her place many years ago, one of these former servants went over from Bradford to Haworth on purpose to see Mr. Bronte, and offer him her true sym- pathy, when his last child died. I may add a little anec- dote as a testimony to the admirable character of the like- ness of Miss Bronte prefixed to this volume. 1 A gentleman who had kindly interested himself in the preparation of this memoir took the first volume, shortly after the publi- cation, to the house of this old servant, in order to show her the portrait. The moment she caught a glimpse of the frontispiece, ' There she is,' she exclaimed. ' Come, John, look !' (to her husband) ; and her daughter was equally struck by the resemblance. There might not be many to regard the Brontes with affection; but those who once loved them loved them long and well. I return to the father's letter. He says : — ' When mere children, as soon as they could read and write, Charlotte and her brother and sisters used to invent and act little plays of their own, in which the Duke of Wellington, my daughter Charlotte's hero, was sure to come off conqueror; when a dispute would not unfre- quently arise amongst them regarding the comparative from Charlotte's death in 1855 until the death of Mr. Bronte in 1861. She died at Haworth, January 19, 1880, and is buried in Haworth Churchyard. For 'Tabby,' or Tabitha Aykroyd, see notes on pp. 61 and 169. 1 The portrait of Charlotte Bronte which has hitherto accompanied Mrs. Gaskell's biography, and is prefixed to the 'Jane Eyre' of the present edition, is that by George Richmond — the only authentic likeness extant. The original is in the possession of Mr. A. B. Nicholls, and is destined by him for the National Portrait Gallery. MR. BRONTE'S ACCOUNT OF HIS CHILDREN 59 merits of him, Buonaparte, Hannibal, and Caesar. When the argument got warm, and rose to its height, as their mother was then dead, I had sometimes to come in as ar- bitrator, and settle the dispute according to the best of my judgment." Generally, in the management of these con- cerns, I frequently thought that I discovered signs of ris- ing talent, which I had seldom or never before seen in any of their age. ... A circumstance now occurs to my mind which I may as well mention. When my children were very young, when, as far as I can remember, the oldest was about ten years of age, and the youngest about four, think- ing that they knew more than I had yet discovered, in order to make them speak with less timidity, I deemed that if they were put under a sort of cover I might gain my end ; and happening to have a mask in the house, I told them all to stand back and speak boldly from under cover of the mask. ' I began with the youngest (Anne, afterwards Acton Bell), and asked what a child like her most wanted ; she answered, " Age and experience." I asked the next (Emily, afterwards Ellis Bell) what I had best do with her brother, Branwell, who was sometimes a naughty boy ; she answered, " Reason with him, and when he won't listen to reason whip him." I asked Branwell what was the best way of knowing the difference between the intellects of man and woman ; he answered, " By considering the dif- ference between them as to their bodies." I then asked Charlotte what was the best book in the world ; she an- swered, "The Bible." And what was the next best; she answered, " The Book of Nature." I then asked the next what was the best mode of education for a woman ; she an- swered, "That which would make her rule her house well." Lastly, I asked the oldest what was the best mode of spend- ing time ; she answered, " By laying it out in preparation for a happy eternity." I may not have given precisely their words, but I have nearly done so, as they made a deep and lasting impression on my memory. The substance, how- ever, was exactly what I have stated.' 60 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE The strange and quaint simplicity of the mode taken by the father to ascertain the hidden characters of his chil- dren, and the tone and character of these questions and answers, show the curious education which was made by the circumstances surrounding the Brontes. They knew no other children. They knew no other modes of thought than what were suggested to them by the fragments of clerical conversation which they overheard in the parlour, or the subjects of village and local interest which they heard discussed in the kitchen. Each had its own strong characteristic flavour. They took a vivid interest in the public characters, and the local and foreign as well as home politics discussed in the newspapers. Long before Maria Bronte died, at the age of eleven, her father used to say he could converse with her on any of the leading topics of the day with as mnch freedom and pleasure as with any grown-up person. CHAPTER IV About a year after Mrs. Bronte's death an elder sister, as I have before mentioned, came from Penzance to superintend her brother-in-law's household and look after his children. Miss. Branwell 1 was, I believe, a kindly and conscientious 1 Elizabeth Branwell, by maDy supposed — although altogether wrongly — to have been the original in some aspects of Mrs. Reed in Jane Eyre, would seem to have been genuinely devoted to her nieces. Among relics of her that survive are the work-boxes that she left in her will to Charlotte and Anne, and a sampler doubtless brought among her modest treasures from Penzance to Haworth. Miss Ellen Nussey's descriptions of the aunt and of ' Tabby ' the servant are the best that I have seen : — ' Miss Branwell was a very small, antiquated little lady ; she wore caps large enough for half a dozen of the present fashion, and a front of light auburn curls over her forehead. She always dressed in silk. She talked a great deal of her younger days, the gaieties of her native town, Penzance, in Cornwall, the soft warm climate, &c. She very probably had been a belle among her acquaintances ; the social life of her younger days she appeared to recall with regret. She took snuff out of a very pretty little gold snuff-box, which she sometimes pre- sented with a little laugh, as if she enjoyed the slight shock and aston- ishment visible in your countenance. In summer she spent most of her afternoons in reading aloud to Mr. Bronte, and in the winter even- ings she must have enjoyed this, for she and Mr. Bronte had some- times to finish their discussions on what she had read when we all met for tea ; she would be very lively and intelligent in her talk, and tilted argument without fear against Mr. Bronte. '"Tabby," the faithful, trustworthy old servant, was very quaint in appearance, very active, and in those days was the general servant and factotum. We were all " children " and " bairns " in her estima- tion. She still kept to her duty of walking out with the "children " if they went any distance from home, unless Branwell were sent by his father as protector. In later days, after she had been attacked with 62 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE woman, with a good deal of character, but with the some- what narrow ideas natural to one who had spent nearly all her life in the same place. She had strong prejudices, and soon took a distaste to Yorkshire. Prom Penzance, where plants which we in the north call greenhouse flowers grow in great profusion, and without any shelter even in the winter, and where the soft warm climate allows the inhab- itants, if so disposed, to live pretty constantly in the open air, it was a great change for a lady considerably past forty to come and take up her abode in a place where neither flowers nor vegetables would nourish, and where a tree of even moderate dimensions might be hunted for far and wide ; where the snow lay long and late on the moors, stretching bleakly and barely far up from the dwelling which was henceforward to be her home ; and where often, on autumnal or winter nights, the four winds of heaven seemed to meet and rage together, tearing round the house as if they were wild beasts striving to find an en- trance. She missed the small round of cheerful social vis- iting perpetually going on in a country town ; she missed the friends she had known from her childhood, some of whom had been her parents' friends before they were hers; she disliked many of the customs of the place, and partic- ularly dreaded the cold damp arising from the flag floors in the passages and parlours of Haworth Parsonage. The stairs, too, I believe, are made of stone ; and no wonder, when stone quarries are near and trees are far to seek. I have heard that Miss Branwell always went about the house on pattens, clicking up and down the stairs, from her dread of catching cold. For the same reason, in the latter years of her life, she passed nearly all her time, and paralysis, she would anxiously look out for such duties as she was still capable of. The postman was her special point of attention ; she did not approve of the inspections which the younger eyes of her fellow servant bestowed on his deliveries ; she jealously seized them (when she could), and carried them off with hobbling step and shaking head and hand to the safe custody of Charlotte.' COWAN BRIDGE SCHOOL 63 took most of her meals, in her bedroom. The children re- spected her, and had that sort of affection for her which is generated by esteem ; but I do not think they ever freely loved her. It was a severe trial for any one at her time of life to change neighbourhood and habitation so entirely as she did ; and the greater her merit. I do not know whether Miss Branwell taught her nieces anything besides sewing 1 anrl tho household arts in which Charlotte afterwards was such an adept. Their regular lessons were said to their father ; and they were always in the habit of picking up an immense amount of miscella- neous information for themselves. But a year or so before this time a school had been begun in the North of England for the daughters of clergymen. The place was Cowan Bridge, a small hamlet on the coach road between Leeds and Kendal, and thus easy of access from Haworth, as the eoach ran daily, and one of its stages was at Keighley. The yearly expense for each pupil (according to the en- trance rules given in the Report for 1842, and I believe they had not been increased since the establishment of the school in 1823) was as follows: — ' Rule II. The terms for clothing, lodging, boarding, and educating are 14?. a year ; half to be paid in advance, when the pupils are sent ; and also 11. entrance money, for the use of books, &c. The system of education comprehends history, geography, the use of the globes, grammar, writ- ing and arithmetic, all kinds of needle work, and the nicer kinds of household work, such as getting up fine linen, ironing, &c. If accomplishments are required an addi- tional charge of 31. a year is made for music or drawing, each.' Rule III. requests that the friends will state the line of 1 Charlotte's gifts of sewing were marked. Her friend Miss Lse- titia Wheelwright possesses a beautifully worked bag which Miss Bronte made for Mrs. Wheelwright when on a visit to London. A neatly worked bead purse, also the outcome of her skill, was sold at Sotheby's in 1898. 64 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE education desired in the case of every pupil, having a re- gard to her future prospects. Rule IV. states the clothing and toilette articles which a girl is expected to bring with her ; and thus concludes : ' The pupils all appear in the same dress. They wear plain straw cottage bonnets ; in summer white frocks on Sun- days, and nankeen on other days ; in winter, purple stuff frocks, and purple cloth cloaks. For the sake of uniform- ity, therefore, they are required to bring 31. in lieu of frocks, pelisse, bonnet, tippet, and frills, making the whole sum which each pupil brings with her to the school — 71. half-year in advance. 11. entrance for books. 11. entrance for clothes.' The 8th rule is, 'All letters and parcels are inspected by the superintendent ;' but this is a very prevalent regu- lation in all young ladies' schools, where I think it is gen- erally understood that the schoolmistress may exercise this privilege, although it is certainly unwise in her to insist too frequently upon it. There is nothing at all remarkable in any of the other regulations, a copy of which was doubtless in Mr. Bronte's hands when he formed the determination to send his daughters to Cowan Bridge School ; and he accordingly took Maria and Elizabeth thither in July 1824. ' 1 The Journal of Education for January 1900 contained the following extracts from the school register of the Clergy Daughters' School at Casterton : — ' Charlotte Bronte. Entered August 10, 1834. Writes indifferently. Ciphers a little, and works neatly. Knows nothing of grammar, geography, history, or accomplishments. Altogether clever of her age, but knows nothing systematically (at eight years old !). Left schooljune 1, 1825. — Governess.' The following entries may also be of ^interest: — ' Marie Bronte, aged 10 (daughter Of" Patrick Bronte, Haworth, near Keighley, Yorks). July 1, 1824.' Reads tolerably. Writes pretty well. Ciphers a little. Works badly. Very little of geography of COWAN BRIDGE SCHOOL 65 I now come to a part of my subject which I find great difficulty in treating, because the evidence relating to it on each side is so conflicting that it seems almost impossible to arrive at the truth. Miss Bronte more than once said to me that she should not have written what she did of Lowood in ' Jane Eyre/ if she had thought the place would have been so immediately identified with Cowan Bridge, although there was not a word in her account of the insti- tution but what was true at the time when she knew it ; she also said that she had not considered it necessary, in a work of fiction, to state every particular with the impar- tiality that might be required iu a court of justice, nor to seek out motives, and make allowances for human failings, as she might have done, if dispassionately analysing the conduct of those who had the superintendence of the in- stitution. I believe she herself would have been glad of an opportunity to correct the over-strong impression which was made upon the public mind by her vivid picture, though even she, suffering her whole life long, both iu heart and body, from the consequences of what happened there, might have been apt, to the last, to take her deep belief in facts for the facts themselves — her conception of truth for the absolute truth. In some of the notices of the previous editions of his work it is assumed that I derived the greater part of my m- history. Has made some progress in reading French, but knows nothing of the language grammatically. Left February 14, 1825, in ill-health, and died May 16, 1825.' (Her father's accouut of her is : — ' She exhibited during her illness many symptoms of a heart under Divine influence. Died of decline.') 'Elizabeth Bronte, age 9. (Vaccinated. Scarlet fever, whooping cough.) Reads Utile. Writes pretty well. Ciphers none (sic). Works very badly. Knows nothing of grammar, geography, history, or ac- complishments. Left in ill-health, May 31, 1825. Died June 13, 1825, in decline.' 'Emily Bronte. Entered November 25, 1824, aged 5f. Reads very prettily, and works a little. Left June 1, 1825. Subsequent career. — Governess.' 5 66 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE formation with regard to her sojourn at Cowan Bridge from Charlotte Bronte herself. I never heard her speak of the place but once, and that was on the second day of my acquaintance with her. A little child on that occasion ex- pressed some reluctance to finish eating his piece of bread at dinner ; and she, stooping down, and addressing him in a low voice, told him how thankful she would have been at his age for a piece of bread ; and when we — though I am not sure if I myself spoke — asked her some question as to the occasion she alluded to, she replied with reserve and hesitation, evidently shying away from what she imagined might lead to too much conversation on one of her books. She spoke of the oat cake at Cowan Bridge (the clap-bread of Westmoreland) as being different from the leaven-raised oat cake of Yorkshire, and of her childish distaste for it. Some one present made an allusion to a similar childish dislike in the true tale of 'the terrible knitters o' Dent,' given in Southey's ' Commonplace Book ; ' and she smiled faintly, but said that the mere difference in food was not all : that the food itself was spoilt by the dirty careless- ness of the cook, so that she and her sisters disliked their meals exceedingly ; and she mentioned her relief and glad- ness when the doctor condemned the meat, and spoke of having seen him spit it out. These are all the details I ever heard from her. She so avoided particularising that I think Mr. Carus Wilson's name never passed between us. I do not doubt the general accuracy of my informants— of those who have given, and solemnly repeated, the de- tails that follow — but it is only just to Miss Bronte to say that I have stated above pretty nearly all that I ever heard on the subject from her. A clergyman, living near Kirby Lonsdale, the Reverend William Cams Wilson, 1 was the prime mover in the estab- 1 William Carus Wilson (1792-1859) lived at Casterton Hall, near Kirby Lonsdale. Wrote Sermons, 1825 ; Life of Mrs. Dawson, 1828 ; Youthful Memoirs, 1828 ; Flam, for Building Churches and SelwoU, 1842 ; Sermons, 1842; Christ Revealed, 1849; Child's First Tales, 1849; COWAN BRIDGE SCHOOL 67 lishment of this school. He was an energetic man, spar- ing no labour for the accomplishment of his ends. He saw that it was an extremely difficult task for clergymen with limited incomes to provide for the education of their chil- dren; and he devised a scheme, by which a certain sum was raised annually by subscription, to complete the amount required to furnish a solid and sufficient English education, for which the parents' payment of Ul. a year would not have been sufficient. Indeed, that made by the parents was considered to be exclusively appropriated to the expenses of lodging and boarding, and the education provided for by the subscriptions. Twelve trustees were appointed ; Mr. Wilson being not only a trustee, but the treasurer and secretary; in fact, taking most of the busi- ness arrangements upon himself; a responsibility which appropriately fell to him, as he lived nearer the school than any one else who was interested in it. So his char- acter for prudence and judgment was to a certain degree implicated in the success or failure of Cowan Bridge School; and the working of it was for many years the great object and interest of his life. But he was appar- ently unacquainted with the prime element in good admin- istration — seeking out thoroughly competent persons to fill each department, and then making them responsible for, and jndging them by, the result, without perpetual inter- ference with the details. So great was the amount of good which Mr. Wilson did, by his constant, unwearied superintendence, that I cannot help feeling sorry that, in his old age and declining health, the errors which he was believed to have committed should have been brought up against him in a form which received such wonderful force from the touch of Miss Bronte's great genius. No doubt whatever can be entertained of ■ the deep interest which he felt in the success of the school. Soldier's Cry from India, 1858. He also issued two serials, the Friend- ly Visitor and the Children's Friend. He was buried in Casterton Church. 68 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE As I write I have before me his last words on giving tip the secretaryship in 1850 : he speaks of the ' withdrawal, from declining health, of an eye, which, at all events, has loved to watch over the school with an honest and anxious interest;' — and again he adds 'that he resigns, therefore, with a desire to be thankful for all that God has been pleased to accomplish through his instrumentality (the in- firmities and unworthiness of which he deeply feels and deplores). Cowan Bridge is a cluster of some six or seven cottages, gathered together at both ends of a bridge, over which the highroad from Leeds to Kendal crosses a little stream, called the Leek. This highroad is nearly disused now; but formerly, when the buyers from the West Riding man- ufacturing districts had frequent occasion to go up into the North to purchase the wool of the Westmoreland and Cumberland farmers, it was doubtless much travelled ; and perhaps the hamlet of Cowan Bridge had a more prosperous look than it bears at present. It is prettily situated ; just where the Leek fells swoop into the plain ; and by the course of the beck alder trees and willows and hazel bushes grow. The current of the stream is interrupted by broken pieces of grey rock ; and the waters flow over a bed of large round white pebbles, which a flood heaves up and moves on either side out of its impetuous way till in some parts they almost form a wall. By the side of the little, shallow, sparkling, vigorous Leek run long pasture fields, of the fine short grass common in high land ; for though Cowan Bridge is situated on a plain, it is a plain from which there is many a fall and long descent before you and the Leek reach the valley of the Lune. I can hardly understand how the school there came to be so unhealthy ; the air all round about was so sweet and thyme-scented when I visited it last summer. But at this day every one knows that the site of a building intended for numbers should be chosen with far greater care than that of a private dwelling, from the tendency to illness, both infectious and otherwise, COWAN BRIDGE SCHOOL 69 produced by the congregation of people in close prox- imity. The house is still remaining that formed part of that occupied by the school. It is a long bow-windowed cottage, now divided into two dwellings. It stands facing the Leek, between which and it intervenes a space, about seventy yards deep, that was once the school garden. This original house was an old dwelling of the Picard family, which they had inhabited for two generations. They sold it for school purposes, and an additional building was erected, running at right angles from the older part. This new part was devoted expressly to schoolrooms, dormitories, &c. ; and after the school was removed to Casterton it was used for a bobbin mill connected with the stream, where wooden reels were . made out of the alders which grow profusely in such ground as that surrounding Cowan Bridge. This mill is now de- stroyed. The present cottage was, at the time of which I write, occupied by the teachers' rooms, the dining-room and kitchens, and some smaller bedrooms. On going into this building I found one part, that nearest to the highroad, converted into a poor kind of public-house, then to let, and having all the squalid appearance of a deserted place, which rendered it difficult to judge what it would look like when neatly kept up, the broken panes replaced in the windows, and the rough-cast (now cracked and discoloured) made white and whole. The other end forms a. cottage, with the low ceilings and stone floors of a hundred years ago ; the windows do not open freely and widely ; and the passage upstairs, leading to the bedrooms, is narrow and tortuous: altogether, smells would linger about the house, and damp cling to it. But sanitary matters were little understood thirty years ago ; and it was a great thing to get a roomy building close to the highroad, and not too far from the habitation of Mr. Wilson, the originator of the educational scheme. There was much need of such an institution ; numbers of ill-paid clergymen hailed the prospect with joy, and eagerly put down the names of their children as pupils ?0 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE when the establishment should be ready to receive them. Mr. Wilson was, no doubt, pleased by the impatience with which the realisation of his idea was anticipated, and opened the school with less than a hundred pounds in hand, and with pupils the number of whom varies according to different accounts, Mr. W. W. Cams Wilson, the son of the founder, giving it as seventy, while Mr. Shepheard, the son-in-law, states it to have been only sixteen. Mr. Wilson felt, most probably, that the responsibility of the whole plan rested upon him. The payment made by the parents was barely enough for food and lodging ; the subscriptions did not flow very freely into an untried scheme; and great economy was necessary in all the domestic ar- rangements. He determined to enforce this by frequent personal inspection, carried, perhaps, to an unnecessary extent, and leading occasionally to a meddling with little matters, which had sometimes the effect of producing ir- ritation of feeling.' Yet, although there was economy in providing for the household, there does not appear to have been any parsimony. The meat, flour, milk, &c, were contracted for, but were of very fair quality ; and the di- etary, which has been shown to me in manuscript, was neither bad nor unwholesome ; nor, on the whole, was it wanting in variety. Oatmeal porridge for breakfast; a piece of oat cake for those who required luncheon; baked and boiled beef, and mutton, potato pie, and plain homely puddings of different kinds for dinner. At five o'clock, bread and milk for the younger ones ; and one piece of bread (this was the only time at which the food was lim- ited) for the elder pupils, who sat up till a later meal of the same description. Mr. Wilson himself ordered in the food, and was anxious that it should be of good quality. But the cook, who had much of his confidence, and against whom for a long time no one durst utter a complaint, was careless, dirty, and wasteful. To some children oatmeal porridge is distaste- ful, and consequently unwholesome, even when properly COWAN BRIDGE SCHOOL 71 made ; at Cowan Bridge School it was too often sent up, not merely burnt, but with offensive fragments of other substances discoverable in it. The beef, that should have been carefully salted before it was dressed, had often be- come tainted from neglect; and girls, who were school- fellows with the Brontes during the reign of the cook of whom I am speaking, tell me that the house seemed to be pervaded, morning, noon, and night, by the odour of ran- cid fat that steamed out of the oven in which much of their food was prepared. There was the same carelessness in making the puddings; one of those ordered was rice boiled in water, and eaten with a sauce of treacle or sugar ; but it was often uneatable, because the water had been taken out of the rain tub, and was strongly impregnated with the dust lodging on the roof, whence it had trickled down into the old wooden cask, which also added its own flavour to that of the original rain water. The milk, too, was often ' bingy,' to use a country expression for a kind of taint that is far worse than sourness, and suggests the idea that is caused by want of cleanliness about the milk pans, rather than by the heat of the weather. On Satur- days a kind of pie, or mixture of potatoes and meat, was served up, which was made of all the fragments accumu- lated during the week. Scraps of meat, from a dirty and disorderly larder, could never be very appetising; and I believe that this dinner was more loathed than any in the early days of Cowan Bridge School. One may fancy how repulsive such fare would be to children whose appetites were small, and who had been accustomed to food, far sim- pler perhaps, but prepared with a delicate cleanliness that made it both tempting and wholesome. At many a meal the little Brontes went without food, although craving with hunger. They were not strong when they came, hav- ing only just recovered from a complication of measles and^hooping- cough. Indeed, I suspect they had scarcely recovered ; for there was some consultation on the part of the school authorities whether Maria and Elizabeth should 72 LIFE OP CHARLOTTE BRONTE be received or not, in July 1824. Mr. Bronte came again in the September of that year, bringing with him Charlotte and Emily to be admitted as pupils. It appears strange that Mr. Wilson should not have been informed by the teachers of the way in which the food was served up ; but we must remember that the cook had been known for some time to the "Wilson family, while the teachers were brought together for an entirely different work — that of education. They were, expressly given to understand that such was their department ; the buying in and management of the provisions rested with Mr. Wil- son and the cook. The teachers would, of course, be un- willing to lay any complaints on the subject before him. There was another trial of health common to all the girls. The path from Cowan Bridge to Tunstall Church, where Mr. Wilson preached, and where they all attended on the Sunday, is more than two miles in length, and goes sweep- ing along the rise and fall of the unsheltered country, in a way to make it a fresh and exhilarating walk in summer, but a bitterly cold one in winter, especially to children like the delicate little Brontes, whose thin blood flowed languid- ly in consequence of their feeble appetites rejecting the food prepared for them, and thus inducing a half-starved condition. The church was not warmed, there being no means for this purpose. It stands in the midst of fields, and the damp mist must have gathered round the walls, and crept in at the windows. The girls took their cold dinner with them, and ate it between the services, in a chamber over the entrance, opening out of the former galleries. The arrangements for this day were peculiarly trying to delicate children, particularly to those who were spiritless and long- ing for home, as poor Maria Bronte must have been ; for her ill health was increasing, and the old cough, the remains of the^hooping-cough, lingered about her. She was far superior in mind to any of her playfellows and companions, and was lonely amongst them from that very cause ; and yet she had faults so annoying that she COWAN BRIDGE SCHOOL 73 was in constant disgrace with her teachers, and an object of merciless dislike to one of them, who is depicted as 'Miss Scatcherd ' in ' Jane Eyre/ and whose real name I will be merciful enough not to disclose. I need hardly say that Helen Burns is as exact a transcript of Maria Bronte as Charlotte's wonderful power of reproducing character could give. Her heart, to the latest day on which we met, still beat with unavailing indignation at the worrying and the cruelty to which her gentle, patient, dying sister had been subjected by this woman. Not a word of that part of ' Jane Eyre ' but is a literal repetition of scenes between the pupil and the teacher. Those who had been pupils at the same time knew who must have written the book from the force with which Helen Burns's sufferings are described. They had, before that, recognised the description of the sweet dignity and benevolence of Miss Temple as only a just tribute to the merits of one whom all that knew her appear to hold in honour ; but when Miss Scatcherd was held up to opprobrium they also recognised in the writer of ' Jane Eyre' an unconsciously avenging sister of the sufferer. One of their fellow pupils, among other statements even worse, gives me the following : The dormitory in which Maria slept was a long room, holding a row of narrow little beds on each side, occupied by the pupils ; and at the end of this dormitory there was a small bedchamber opening out of it, appropriated to the use of Miss Scatcherd. Maria's bed stood nearest to the door of this room. One morning, after she had become so seriously unwell as to have had a blister applied to her side (the sore from which was not perfectly healed), when the getting-up bell was heard, poor Maria moaned out that she was so ill, so very ill, she wished she might stop in bed ; and some of the girls urged her to do so, and said they would explain it all to Miss Temple, the superintendent. But Miss Scatcherd was close at hand, and her anger would have to be faced before Miss Temple's kind thoughtfulness could interfere ; so the sick child be- gan to dress, shivering with cold, as, without leaving her 74 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE bed, she slowly put on her black worsted stockings over her thin white legs (my informant spoke as if she saw it yet, and her whole face flushed out undying indignation). Just then Miss Scatcherd issued from her room, and, without asking for a word of explanation from the sick and fright- ened girl, she took her by the arm, on the side to which the blister had been applied, and by one vigorous movement whirled her out into the middle of the floor, abusing her all the time for dirty and untidy habits. There she left her. My informant says Maria hardly spoke, except to beg some of the more indignant girls to be calm ; but, in slow, trembling movements, with many a pause, she went down- stairs at last — and was punished for being late. Any one may fancy how such an event as this would rankle in Charlotte's mind. I only wonder that she did not remonstrate against her father's decision to send her and Emily back to Cowan Bridge after Maria's and Elizabeth's deaths. But frequently children are unconscious of the effect which some of their simple revelations would have in altering the opinions entertained by their friends of the persons placed around them. Besides, Charlotte's ear- nest, vigorous mind saw, at an unusually early age, the immense importance of education, as furnishing her with tools which she had the strength and the will to wield, and she would be aware that the Cowan Bridge education was, in many points, the best that her father could provide for her. Before Maria Bronte's death that low fever broke out, in the spring of 1825, which is spoken of in ' Jane Eyre.' Mr. Wilson was extremely alarmed at the first symptoms of this. He went to a kind motherly woman, who had had some connection with the school — as laundress, I believe — and asked her to come and tell him what was the matter with them. She made herself ready, and drove with him in his gig. When she entered the schoolroom she saw from twelve to fifteen girls lying about ; some resting their ach- ing heads on the table, others on the ground ; all heavy- COWAN BRIDGE SCHOOL 75 eyed, flushed, indifferent, and weary, with pains in every limb. Some peculiar odour, she says, made her recognise that they were sickening for ' the fever ;' and she told Mr. Wilson so, and that she could not stay there for fear of conveying the infection to her own children ; but he half commanded and half entreated her to remain and nurse them ; and finally mounted his gig and drove away, while she was still urging that she must return to her own house, and to her domestic duties, for which she had provided no substitute. However, when she was left in this uncere- monious manner, she determined to make the best of it ; and a most efficient nurse she proved : although, as she says, it was a dreary time. Mr. Wilson supplied everything ordered by the doctors, of the best quality and in the most liberal manner ; the in- valids were attended by Dr. Batty, a very clever surgeon in Kirby, who had had the medical superintendence of the establishment from the beginning, and who afterwards be- came Mr. Wilson's brother-in-law. I have heard from two witnesses besides Charlotte Bronte that Dr. Batty con- demned the preparation of the food by the expressive ac- tion of spitting out a portion of it. He himself, it is but fair to say, does not remember this circumstance, nor does he speak of the fever itself as either alarming or danger- ous. About forty of the girls suffered from this, but none of them died at Cowan Bridge ; though one died at her own home, sinking under the state of health which fol- lowed it. None of the Brontes had the fever. But the same causes, which affected the health of the other pupils through typhus, told more slowly, but not less surely, upon their constitutions. The principal of these causes was the food. The bad management of the cook was chiefly to be blamed for this ; she was dismissed, and the woman who had been forced against her will to serve as head nurse took the place of housekeeper ; and henceforward the food was so well prepared that no one could ever reasonably 76 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE complain of it. Of course it cannot be expected that a new institution, comprising domestic and educational ar- rangements for nearly a hundred persons, should work quite smoothly at the beginning. All this occurred during the first two years of the es- tablishment, and in estimating its effect upon the charac- ter of Charlotte Bronte we must remember that she was a sensitive, thoughtful child, capable of reflecting deeply, if not of analysing truly ; and peculiarly susceptible, as are all delicate and sickly children, to painful impressions. What the healthy suffer from but momentarily, and then forget, those who are ailing brood over involuntarily and remember long — perhaps with no resentment, but simply as a piece of suffering that has been stamped into their very life. The pictures, ideas, and conceptions of character received into the mind of the child of eight years old, were destined to be reproduced in fiery words a quarter of a century afterwards. She saw but one side of Mr. Wilson's character ; and many of those who knew him at that time assure me of the fidel- ity with which this is represented, while at the same time they regret that the delineation should have obliterated, as it were, nearly all that was noble or conscientious. And that there were grand and fine qualities in Mr. Wilson I have received abundant evidence. Indeed, for several weeks past I have received letters almost daily, bearing on the sub- ject of this chapter ; some vague, some definite ; many full of love and admiration for Mr. Wilson, some as full of dislike and indignation ; few containing positive facts. After giving careful consideration to this mass of conflict- ing evidence, I have made such alterations and omissions in this chapter as seem to me to be required. It is but just to state that the major part of the testimony with which I have been favoured from old pupils is in high praise of Mr. Wilson. Among the letters that I have read there is one whose evidence ought to be highly respected. It is from the husband of ' Miss Temple.' She died in 1856, but he, a clergyman, thus wrote in reply to a letter addressed to THE BRONTE SISTERS 77 him on the subject by one of Mr. Wilson's friends : ' Often have I heard my late dear wife speak of her sojourn at Cowan Bridge ; always in terms of admiration of Mr. Carus Wilson, his parental love to his pupils, and their love for him ; of the food and general treatment, in terms of ap- proval. I have heard her allude to an unfortunate cook, who used at times to spoil the porridge, but who, she said, was soon dismissed.' The recollections left of the four Bronte" sisters at this period of their lives, on the minds of those who associated with the*ii, are not very distinct. Wild, strong hearts and powerful minds were hidden under an enforced propriety and regularity of demeanour and expression, just as their faces had been concealed by their father under his stiff, un- changing mask. Maria was delicate, unusually clever and thoughtful for her age, gentle, and untidy. Of her fre- quent disgrace from this last fault — of her sufferings, so patiently borne — I have already spoken. The only glimpse we get of Elizabeth, through the few years of her short life, is contained in a letter which I have received from ' Miss Temple.' 'The second, Elizabeth, is the only one of the family of whom I have a vivid recollection, from her meet- ing with a somewhat alarming accident, in consequence of which I had her for some days and nights in my bedroom, not only for the sake of greater quiet, but that I might watch over her myself. Her head was severely cut, but she bore all the consequent suffering with exemplary patience, and by it won much upon my esteem. Of the two younger ones (if two there were) I have very slight recollections, save that one, a darling child, under five years of age, was quite the pet nurseling of the school.' This last would be Emily. Charlotte was considered the most talkative of the sisters — a ' bright, clever little child.' Her great friend was a certain 'Mellany Hane' (so Mr. Bronte spells the name), whose brother paid for her schooling, and who had no re- markable talent except for music, which her brother's cir- cumstances forbade her to cultivate. She was ' a hungry, 78 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE good-natured, ordinary girl ;' older than Charlotte, and ever ready to protect her from any petty tyranny or en- croachments on the part of the elder girls. Charlotte al- ways remembered her with 'affection and gratitude. I have quoted the word ' bright ' in the account of Char- lotte. I suspect that this year of 1825 was the last time it could ever be applied to her. 1 In the spring of it Maria became so rapidly worse that Mr. Bronte was sent for. He had not previously been aware of her illness, and the condition in which he found her was a terrible shock to him. He took her home in the Leeds coach, the girls crowding out into the road to follow her with their eyes over the bridge, past the cottages, and then out of sight for ever. She died a very few days after her arrival at home. Perhaps the news of her death falling suddenly into the life of which her patient existence had formed a part, only a little week or so before, made those who re- mained at Cowan Bridge look with more anxiety on Eliza- This suggestion that all ' brightness ' went out of Charlotte Bronte's life thus early is one that has been vigorously disputed. Mr. (now Sir) Wemyss Reid (Charlotte Bronte : a Monograph) brought together, in 1877 — twenty years after Mrs. Gaskell had written — a number of de- tails and fragments of at that time unpublished correspondence, in order to demonstrate that Mrs. Gaskell had pitched her work in too sombre a key. ' If the truth must be told,' said Mr. Reid, ' the life of the author of Jane Eyre was by no means so joyless as the world now believes it to have been. ... On the contrary, her letters show that, at any rate up to the time of her leaving for Brussels, she was a happy and high-spirited girl, that even to the very last she had the faculty of overcoming her sorrows by means of that steadfast courage which was her most precious possession.' Sir Wemyss Reid, by judiciously quoting certain passages omitted by Mrs. Gaskell from the correspon- dence, may be said to have proved his case, or rather to have effectively presented the other side of the shield. To understand Charlotte Bronte on that side is to understand her inheritance from her father of a dis- tinctly Celtic temperament — the temperament of alternate high spirits and boundless exhilaration followed by long periods of depression and melancholy. Charlotte Bronte was a woman of moods that many a placid Englishwoman would have found unaccountable. THE BRONTE SISTERS 79 beth's symptoms, which also turned out to be consumptive. She was sent home in charge of a confidential servant of the establishment ; and she, too, died in the early sum- mer of that year. Charlotte was thus suddenly called into the responsibilities of eldest sister in a motherless family. She remembered how anxiously her dear sister Maria had striven, in her grave, earnest way, to be a tender helper and a counsellor to them all ; and the duties that now fell upon her seemed almost like a legacy from the gentle little sufferer so lately dead. Both Charlotte and Emily returned to school after the midsummer holidays in this fatal year. But before the next winter it was thought desirable to advise their re- moval, as it was evident that the damp situation of the house at Cowan Bridge did not suit their health.' 1 With regard to my own opinion of the present school, I can only give it as formed after what was merely a cursory and superficial in- spection, as I do not believe that I was in the house above half an hour; but it was and is this: that the house at Casterton seemed thoroughly healthy and well kept, and is situated in a lovely spot ; that the pupils looked bright, happy, and well, and that the lady su- perintendent was a most prepossessing-looking person, who, on my making some inquiry as to the accomplishments taught to the pupils, said that the scheme of education was materially changed since the school had been opened. I would have inserted this testimony in the first edition, had I believed that any weight could be attached to an opinion formed on such slight and superficial grounds. — Note by Mrs. Gaskell. There was much controversy respecting Mrs. Gaskell's identification of Cowan Bridge with the Lowood of Jane Eyre. The matter was discussed at infinite length in the Yorkshire papers, even Mr. A. B. Nicholls, Charlotte Bronte's husband, contributing two letters to the Halifax Guardian in defence of his wife's general accuracy. A pamphlet was also published with the following title-page: — A Vindication of the Clergy Daughters' School and the Men. W. Carus Wilson from the Remarks in ' The Life of Charlotte Bronte,' by the Rev. H. Shepheard, M.A. London : Seeley, Jackson, andHalliday, 1857. This pamphlet contained the following letter from 'A. H.,' who was a teacher at Cowan Bridge during the time of the residence of the little Brontes there : — 80 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' In July 1824 the Kev. Mr. Bronte arrived at Cowan Bridge with two of his daughters, Maria and Elizabeth, 12 and 10 years of age. The children were delicate ; both had but recently recovered from the measles and hooping-cough — so recently, indeed, that doubts were en- tertained whether they could be admitted witli safety to the other pupils. They were received, however, and went on so well that in September their father returned, bringing with him two more of his children — Charlotte, 9 [she was really but 8], and Emily, 6 years of age. During both these visits Mr. Bronte lodged at the school, sat at the same table with the children, saw the whole routine of the estab- lishment, and, so far as 1 have ever known, was satisfied with every- thing that came under his observation. ' " The two younger children enjoyed uniformly good health." Char- lotte was a general favourite. To the best of my recollection she was never under disgrace, however slight ; punishment she certainly did not experience while she was at Cowan Bridge. 'In size Charlotte was remarkably diminutive ; and if, as has been recently asserted, she never grew an inch after leaving the Clergy Daughters' School, she must have been a literal dwarf, and could not have obtained a situation as teacher in a school at Brussels, or any- where else ; the idea is absurd. In respect of the treatment of the pupils at Cowan Bridge, I will say that neither Mr. Bronte's daughters nor any other of the children were denied a sufficient quantity of food. Any statement to the contrary is entirely false. The daily dinner con- sisted of meat, vegetables, and pudding, in abundance ; the children were permitted, and expected, to ask for whatever they desired, and were never limited. ' It has been remarked that the food of the school was such that none but starving children could eat it ; and in support of this state- ment reference is made to a certain occasion when the medical attend- ant was consulted about it. In reply to this let me say that during the spring of 1825 a low fever, although not an alarming one, prevail- ed in the school, and the managers, naturally anxious to ascertain whether any local cause occasioned the epidemic, took an opportunity to ask the physician's opinion of the food that happened to be then on the table. I recollect that he spoke rather scornfully of a baked rice pudding; but as the ingredients of this dish were chiefly rice, sugar, and milk, its effects could hardly have been so serious as has been affirmed. I thus furnish you with the simple fact from which those statements have been manufactured. ' I have not the least hesitation in saying that, upon the whole, the comforts were as many and the privations as few at Cowan Bridge as can well be found in so large an establishment. How far young or deli- cate children are able to contend with the necessary evils of a public COWAN BRIDGE SCHOOL 81 school is, in my opinion, a very grave question, and does not enter into the present discussion. ' The younger children in all larger institutions are liable to be op- pressed ; but the exposure to thi9 evil at Cowan Bridge was not more than in other schools, but, as I believe, far less. Then, again, thought- less servants will occasionally spoil food, even in private families; and in public schools they are likely to be still less particular, unless they are well looked after.' A book published by Mr. Carus Wilson in 1831, six years after the little Brontes had left the school, serves to throw an interesting light on the retentiveness of Charlotte Bronte's memory of the place and of her capacity for making every detail serve. The book is entitled : — Memoir of a Beloved and Long Afflicted Sister, by William Carus Wilson, M.A., Rector of Whittington and Chaplain to his Royal High- ness the Duke of Suffolk. Kirkby Lonsdale : Printed and sold by A. Foster. Sold in London by L. B. Seeley and Sons. 1831. Here we have, day by day, the trivial diary of an invalid woman, and we learn, incidentally, that one of her brothers bore the name of Edward, and that in 1824, during the Bronte sojourn at Cowan Bridge, he became engaged and married to a ' Jane .' As there are no Ed- wards and Janes mentioned in Charlotte Bronte's correspondence, it is fair to suppose that the hint for the Christian names of her hero and heroine in Jane Eyre was derived from this early memory. There is also a Mrs. Beade mentioned in the diary, probably a further sugges- tion. There are many prayerful references to the inquiry into the school management, and his sister hopes that ' dear William ' may ' speak in such a manner as may confound his enemies and redound to the glory of God.' CHAPTEK V Foe the reason just stated, the little girls were sent home in the autumn of 1825, when Charlotte was little more than nine years old. About this time an elderly woman of the village came to live as servant at the parsonage. She remained there, as a member of the household, for thirty years ; and from the length of her faithful service, and the attachment and re- spect which she inspired, is deserving of mention. Tabby was a thorough specimen of a Yorkshire woman of her class, in dialect, in appearance, and in character. She abounded in strong practical sense and shrewdness. Her words were far from flattery ; but she would spare no deeds in the cause of those whom she kindly regarded. She ruled the children pretty sharply ; and yet never grudged a little extra trouble to provide them with such small treats as came within her power. In return, she claimed to be looked upon as a humble friend; and, many years later, Miss Bronte told me that she found it somewhat difficult to manage, as Tabby expected to be informed of all the family concerns, and yet had grown so deaf that what was repeated to her became known to whoever might be in or about the house. To obviate this publication of what it might be desirable to keep secret, Miss Bronte used to take her out for a walk on the solitary moors, where, when both were seated on a tuft of heather, in some high lonely place, she could acquaint the old woman, at leisure, with all that she wanted to hear. Tabby had lived in Haworth in the days when the pack- horses went through once a week, with their tinkling bells 1825 THE OLD SERVANT TABBY 83 and gay worsted adornment, carrying the produce of the country from Keighley over the hills to Colne and Burnley. What is more, she had known the ' bottom/ or valley, in those primitfTC days when the fairies frequented the margin of the 'beck' on moonlight nights, and had known folk who had seen them. But that was when there were no mills in the valleys, and when all the wool-spinning was done by hand m the farmhouses round. 'It wur the fac- tories as had driven 'em away,' she said. No doubt she had many a tale to tell of bygone days of the country-side; old ways of livings former inhabitants, decayed gentry, who had melted away, and whose places knew them no more; family tragedies and dark superstitious dooms ; and, in tell- ing these things, without the least consciousness that there might ever be anything requiring to be softened down, would give at full length the bare and simple details. Miss Branwell instructed -the children at regular hours in all she could teach, converting her bedchamber into their schoolroom. Their father was in the habit of relating to them any public news in which he felt aD interest ; and from the opinions of his strong and independent mind they would gather much food for thought ; but I do not know whether he gave them any direct instruction. Charlotte's deep, thoughtful spirit appears to have felt almost painfully the tender responsibility which rested upon her with refer- ence to her remaining sisters. She was only eighteen months older than Emily ; but Emily and Anne were simply com- panions and playmates, while Charlotte was motherly friend and guardian to both ; and this loving assumption of duties beyond her years made her feel considerably older than she really was. Patrick Branwell, their only brother, was a boy of re- markable promise, and, in some ways, of extraordinary precocity of talent. Mr. Bronte's friends advised him to send his son to school ; but, remembering both the strength of will of his own youth and his mode of employing it, he believed that Patrick was better at home, and that he him- 84 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE self could teach him well, as he had taught others before. So Patrick — or, as his family called him, Bfcanwell — re- mained at Haworth, working hard for some Jiours a day with his father ; but, when the time of the laUft' was taken up with his parochial duties, the boy was thrown into chance companionship with the lads of the village — for youth will to youth, and boys will to boys, j Still, he was associated in many of his sifters' plays and amusements. These were mostly of a sedentary and intel- lectual nature. I have had a curious ^packet confided to me, containing an immense amount of, fiaanuscript, in an inconceivably small space — tales, dramas, poems, romances, written principally by Charlotte, in a hand which it is al- most impossible to decipher without' the aid of a magnify- ing glass. Among these papers there is a list of her works, which I copy, as a curious proof how early the rage for literary composition had seized upon her : — ' CATALOGUE OF M,Y" BOOKS, WITH THE PERIOD OF THEIR COMPHETIOK, UP TO AUGUST 3, 1830. 'Two romantic tales in one volume, viz. The Twelve Adventurers and the Adventures in Ireland, April 2, 1829. * The Search after Happiness, a Tale, August 1, 1829. ' Leisure Hours, a Tale, and two Fragments, July 6, 1829. ' The Adventures of Edward de Crack, a Tale, Feb. 2, 1830. ' The Adventures of Ernest Alembert, a Tale, May 26, 1830. ' An interesting Incident in the Lives of some of the most Eminent Persons of the Age, a Tale, June 10, 1830. 'Tales of the Islanders, in four volumes. Contents of the 1st Vol. : — 1. An Account of their Origin ; 2. A De- scription of Vision Island ; 3. Batten's Attempt ; 4. Lord Charles Wellesley and the Marquis of Douro's Adventure ; TAC SIMILE OF A PACE OF M S »4 '• 1830 JUVENILE WORKS IN MANUSCRIPT 85 completed June 31, 1829. 2nd Vol. :— 1. The School Rebel- lion ; 2. The Strange Incident in the Duke of Wellington's Life ; 3. Tale to his Sons ; 4. The Marquis of Douro and Lord Charles Wellesley's Tale to his Little King and Queen; completed Dec. 2, 1829. 3rd Vol. :— 1. The Duke of Wellington's Adventure in the Cavern ; 2. The Duke of Wellington and the Little King's and Queen's Visit to the Horse Guards ; completed May 8, 1830. 4th Vol. :— 1. The Three Old Washerwomen of Strathfieldsaye ; 2. Lord C. Wellesley's Tale to his Brother ; completed July 30, 1830. ' Characters of Great Men of the Present Age, Dec. 17, 1829. ' The Young Men's Magazines, in Six~Numbers, from August to December, the latter months double number ; completed December 12, 1829. General Index to their Contents : — 1. A True Story ; 2. Causes of the War; 3. A Song ; 4. Conversations ; 5. A True Story, continued ; 6. The Spirit of Cawdor ; 7. Interior of a Pothouse, a Poem ; 8. The Glass Town, a Song ; 9. The Silver Cup, a Tale ; 10. The Table and Vase in the Desert, a Song ; 11. Con- versations ; 12. Scene on the Great Bridge ; 13. Song of the Ancient Britons ; 14. Scene in my Tun, a Tale ; 15. An American Tale ; 16. Lines written on seeing the Gar- den of a Genius; 17. The Lay of the Glass Town; 18. The Swiss Artist, a Tale; 19. Lines on the Transfer of this Magazine ; 20. On the Same, by a different hand ; 21. Chief Genii in Council ; 22. Harvest in Spain ; 23. The Swiss Artists, continued; 24. Conversations. ' The Poetaster, a Drama, in 2 volumes, July 12, 1830. ' A Book of Rhymes, finished December 17, 1829. Con- tents : — 1. The Beauty of Nature ; 2. A Short Poem ; 3. Meditations while Journeying in a Canadian Forest; 4. A Song of an Exile ; 5. On Seeing the Ruins of the Tower of Babel ; 6. A Thing of Fourteen Lines j 7. Lines written on the Bank of a River one Pine Summer Evening ; 8. Spring, a Song ; 9. Autumn, a Song. 86 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' Miscellaneous Poems, finished May 30, 1830. Con- tents : 1. The Churchyard; 2. Description of the Duke of Wellington's Palace on the Pleasant Banks of the Lusiva ; this article is a small prose tale or incident; 3. Pleasure; 4. Lines written on the Summit of a High Mountain of the North of England ; 5. Winter ; 6. Two Fragments, namely, 1st, The Vision ; 2nd, A Short untitled Poem ; The Evening Walk, a Poem, June 23, 1830. ' Making in the whole twenty-two volumes. ' C. Bronte, August 3, 1830.' As each volume contains from sixty to a hundred pages, the amount of the whole seems very great, if we remember that it was alL written in about fifteen months. So much for the quantity ; the quality strikes me as of singular merit for a girl of thirteen or fourteen. Both as a speci- men of her prose style at this time, and also as revealing something of the quiet domestic life led by these children, I take an extract from the introduction to ' Tales of the Islanders,' the title of one of their ' Little Magazines :' — ' June the 31st, 1829. ' The play of the " Islanders " was formed in December 1827, in the following manner: One night, about the time when the cold sleet and stormy fogs of November are suc- ceeded by the snowstorms, and high, piercing night winds of confirmed winter, we were all sitting round the warm blazing kitchen fire, having just concluded a quarrel with Tabby concerning the propriety of lighting a candle, from which she came off victorious, no candle having been pro- duced. A long pause succeeded, which was at last broken by Branwell saying, in a lazy manner, " I don't know what to do." This was echoed by Emily and Anne. * Tabby. " Wha, ya may go t' bed." ' Branwell. " I'd rather do anything than that." 'Charlotte. "Why are you so glum to-night, Tabby? Oh! suppose we had each an island of our own." 1830 A WINTER EVENING CONVERSATION 87 ' Branwell. "If we had I would choose the Island of Man." ' Charlotte. "And I would choose the Isle of Wight." 'Emily. "The Isle of Arran for me." 'Anne. "And mine shall be Guernsey." ' We then chose who should be chief men in our islands. Branwell chose John Bull, Astley Cooper, and Leigh Hunt ; Emily, Walter Scott, Mr. Lockhart, Johnny Lockhart ; Anne, Michael Sadler, Lord Bentinck, Sir Henry Halford. I chose the Duke of Wellington and two sons, Christopher North and Co., and Mr. Abernethy. Here our conversa- tion was interrupted by the, to us, dismal sound of the clock striking seven, and we were summoned off to bed. The next day we added many others to our list of men, till we got almost all the chief men of the kingdom. After this, for a long time, nothing worth noticing occurred. In June 1828 we erected a school on a fictitious island, which was to contain 1,000 children. The manner of the build- ing was as follows : The Island was fifty miles in circum- ference, and certainly appeared more like the work of enchantment than anything real,' &c. Two or three things strike me much in this fragment ; one is the graphic vividness with which the time of the year, the hour of the evening, the feeling of cold and dark- ness outside, the sound of the night winds sweeping over the desolate snow-covered moors, coming nearer and nearer, and at last shaking the very door of the room where they were sitting — for it opened out directly on that bleak, wide expanse — is contrasted with the glow and busy bright- ness of the cheerful kitchen where these remarkable chil- dren are grouped. Tabby moves about in her quaint coun- try dress,, frugal, peremptory, prone to find fault pretty sharply, yet allowing no one else to blame her children, we may feel sure. Another noticeable fact is the intelligent partisanship with which they choose their great men, who are almost all staunch Tories of the time. Moreover they do not confine themselves to local heroes ; their range of 88 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE choice has been widened by hearing much of what is not usually considered to interest children. Little Anne, aged scarcely eight, picks out the politicians of the day for her chief men. There is another scrap of paper, in this all but illegible handwriting, written about this time, and which gives some idea of the sources of their opinions. "THE HISTORY OF THE TEAR 1829.' ' Once papa lent my sister Maria a book. It was an old geography book ; she wrote on its blank leaf, " Papa lent me this book." This book is a hundred and twenty years old ; it is at this moment lying before me. While I write this I am in the kitchen of the Parsonage, Haworth ; Tabby, the servant, is washing up the breakfast things, and Anne, my younger sister (Maria was my eldest), is kneeling on a chair, looking at some cakes which Tabby had been baking for us. Emily is in the parlour, brushing the carpet. Papa and Branwell are gone' to Keighley. Aunt is upstairs in her room, and I am sitting by the table writing this in the kitchen. Keighley is a small town four miles from here. Papa and Branwell are gone for the newspaper, the "Leeds Intelligencer," a most excellent Tory newspaper, edited by Mr. Wood, and the proprietor, Mr. Henneman. We take two and see three newspapers a week. We take the " Leeds In- telligencer," Tory, and the "Leeds Mercury," Whig, edited by Mr. Baines, and his brother, son-in-law, and his two sons, Edward and Talbot. We see the " John Bull ; " it is a high Tory, very violent. Dr. Driver lends ns it, as likewise " Blackwood's Magazine," the most able periodical there is. The editor is Mr. Christopher North, an old man seventy- four years of age ; the 1st of April isliis birthday ; his com- pany are Timothy Tickler, Morgan O'Doherty, Macrabin Mordecai, Mullion, Warnell, and James Hogg, a man of most extraordinary genius, a Scottish shepherd. Our plays were established : " Young Men," June 1826 ; "Our Fellows," July 1827 ; " Islanders," December 1827. These are our 1830 HER 'HISTORY OF THE YEAR 1829' 89 three great plays that are not kept secret. Emily's and my best plays were established December 1, 1827 ; "the others March 1828. Best plays mean secret plays ; they are very nice ones. All our plays are very strange ones. Their nature I need not write on paper, for I think I shall al- ways remember them. The " Young Men's " play took its rise from some wooden soldiers Branwell had ; " Our Fel- lows " from " Jilsop's Fables ; " and the " Islanders " from several events which happened. I will sketch out the ori- gin of our plays more explicitly if I can. First, "Young Men." Papa bought Branwell some wooden soldiers at Leeds ; when papa came home it was night, and we were in bed, so next morning Branwell came to our door with a box of soldiers. Emily and I jumped out of bed, and I snatched up one and exclaimed, " This is the Duke of Wellington ! This shall be the Duke !" "When I had said this Emily likewise took up one and said it should be hers ; when Anne came down she said one should be hers. Mine was the prettiest of the whole, and the tallest, and the most perfect in every part. Emily's was a grave-looking fellow, and we called him " Gravey." Anne's was a queer little thing, much like herself, and we called him " Wait- ing-boy." Branwell chose his and called him " Buona- parte."' 1 The foregoing extract shows something of the kind of reading in which the little Brontes were interested ; but their desire for knowledge must have been excited in many directions, for I find a ' list of painters whose works I wish to see' drawn up by Charlotte when she was scarcely thirteen — ' Gaido Reni, Julio Romano, Titian, Raphael, Michael Angelo, Oorreggio, Annibal Oaracci, Leonardo da Vinci, Fra Bartolomeo, Carlo Cignani, Vandyke, Rubens, Barto- lomeo Ramerghi.' ' Dated on the original ' March 13, 1829.' Mrs. Gaskell copied the manuscript with two trivial variations. 90 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Here is this little girl, in a remote Yorkshire parson- age, who has probably never seen anything worthy of the name of a painting in her life, studying the names and char- acteristics of the great old Italian and Flemish masters, whose works she longs to see some time, in the dim future that lies before her ! There is a paper remaining which contains minute studies of, and criticisms upon, the en- gravings in ' Friendship's Offering for 1829/ showing how she had early formed those habits of close observation, and patient analysis of cause and effect, which served so well in after-life as handmaids to her genius. The way in which Mr. Bronte made his children sym- pathise with him in his great interest in politics must have done much to lift them above the chances of their minds being limited or tainted by petty local gossip. I take the only other remaining personal fragment out of ' Tales of the Islanders ;' it is a sort of apology, contained in the in- troduction to the second volume, for their not having been continued before ; the writers had been for a long time too busy, and latterly too much absorbed in politics. ' Parliament was opened, and the great Catholic question was brought forward, and the Duke's measures were dis- closed, and all was slander, violence, party spirit, and con- fusion. Oh, those six months, from the time of the King's Speech to the end ! Nobody could write, think, or speak on any subject but the Catholic question, and the Duke of Wellington, and Mr. Peel. I remember the day when the Intelligence Extraordinary came with Mr. Peel's speech in it, containing the terms on which the Catholics were to be let in ! With what eagerness papa tore off the cover, and how we all gathered round him, and with what breathless anxiety we listened, as one by one they were disclosed, and explained, and argued upon so ably, and so well ! and then when it was all out, how aunt said that she thought it was excellent, and that the Catholics could do no harm with such good security ! I remember also the doubts as to whether it would pass the House of Lords, and the proph- 1830 FIRST IMAGINATIVE WRITING 91 ecies that it would not; and when the paper came which was to decide the question, the anxiety was almost dreadful with which we listened to the whole affair : the opening of the doors ; the hush ; the royal dukes in their robes, and the great Duke in green sash and waistcoat ; the rising of all the peeresses when he rose ; the reading of his speech — papa saying that his words were like precious gold ; and lastly, the majority of one to four (sic) in favour of the Bill. But this is a digression,' &c. &c. This must have been written when she was between thir- teen and fourteen. It will be interesting to some of my readers to know what was the character of her purely imaginative writing at this period. While her description of any real occurrence is, as we have seen, homely, graphic, and forcible, when she gives way to her powers of creation her fancy and her language alike run riot, sometimes to the very borders of apparent delirium. Of this wild, weird writing a single ex- ample will suffice. It is a letter to the editor of one of the ' Little Magazines.' ' Sir, — It is well known that the Genii have declared that unless they perform certain arduous duties every year, of a mysterious nature, all the worlds in the firmament will be burnt up, and gathered together in one mighty globe, which will roll in solitary grandeur through the vast wilder- ness of space, inhabited only by the four high princes of the Genii, till time shall be succeeded by Eternity ; and the impudence of this is only to be paralleled by another of their assertions, namely, that by their magic might they can re- duce the world to a desert, the purest waters to streams of livid poison, and the clearest lakes to stagnant waters, the pestilential vapours of which shall slay all living creatures, except the bloodthirsty beast of the forest, and the raven- ous bird of the rock. But that in the midst of this desola- tion the palace of the Chief Genii shall rise sparkling in the wilderness, and the horrible howl of their war cry shall 92 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE spread over the land at morning, at noontide and night; but that they shall have their annual feast over the bones of the dead, and shall yearly rejoice with the joy of victors. I think, sir, that the horrible wickedness of this needs no remark, and therefore I haste to subscribe myself, &c. ' July 14, 1829.' It is not unlikely that the foregoing letter may have had some allegorical or political reference, invisible to our eyes, but very clear to the bright little minds for whom it was intended. Politics were evidently their grand interest; the Duke of Wellington their demigod. All that related to him belonged to the heroic age. Did Charlotte want a knight-errant, or a devoted lover, the Marquis of Donro, or Lord Charles Wellesley, came ready to her hand. There is hardly one of her prose writings at this time in which they are not the principal personages, and in which their ' august father' does not appear as a sort of Jupiter Tonans, or Dens ex Machina. As one evidence how Wellesley haunted her imagination I copy out a few of the titles to her papers in the various magazines. ' " Liffey Castle," a Tale by Lord C. Wellesley. ' " Lines to the River Aragua," by the Marquis of Douro. ' "An Extraordinary Dream," by Lord C. Wellesley. '"The Green Dwarf, a Tale of the Perfect Tense," by the Lord Charles Albert Florian Wellesley. '"Strange Events," by Lord C. A. P. Wellesley." 1 The packet iu which Mrs. Gaskell found these numerous treasures of childhood was returned by her to Mr. Bronte. It was carried by Mr. Nicholls to Ireland after Mr. Bronte's death, and was opened forty years afterwards in response to my inquiry for new material concern- ing the Bronte children. In Charlotte Bronte and, her Circle I have printed a list, for the benefit of the curious, of these little books more complete than that given here ; but Mrs. Gaskell, with an artist's eye for essentials, has seized upon sufficiently representative material. She does not, however, note the fact that a considerable number of these little books are in the handwriting of Branwell Bronte, and scarcely 1830 YEARS OF CHILDHOOD 93 Life in an isolated village, or a lonely country house, presents many little occurrences which sink into the mind of childhood, there to be brooded over. No other event may have happened, or be likely to happen, for days, to push one of these aside, before it has assumed a vague and mysterious importance. Thus children leading a secluded life are often thoughtful and dreamy : the impressions made upon them by the world without — the unusual sights of earth and sky — the accidental meetings with strange faces and figures (rare occurrences in those out-of-the-way places) — are sometimes magnified by them into things so deeply significant as to be almost supernatural. This pe- culiarity I perceive very strongly in Charlotte's writings at this time. Indeed, under the circumstances, it is no peculiarity. It has been common to all, from the Chal- dean shepherds-^-' the lonely herdsman stretched on the soft grass through half a summer's day' — the solitary monk — to all whose impressions from without have had time to grow and vivify in the imagination, till they have been re- ceived as actual personifications, or supernatural visions, to doubt which would be blasphemy. To counterbalance this tendency in Charlotte was the strong common sense natural to her, and daily called into exercise by the requirements of her practical life. Her duties were not merely to learn her lessons, to read a cer- tain quantity, to gain certain ideas ; she had, besides, to brush rooms, to run errands up and down stairs, to help in the simpler forms of cooking, to be by turns playfellow and monitress to her younger sisters and brother, to make and to mend, and to study economy under her careful aunt. Thus we see that, while her imagination received vivid im- pressions, her excellent understanding had full power to rectify them before her fancies became realities. On a any of them in the handwriting of Emily and Anne. Charlotte Bronte had doubtless destroyed the similar booklets belonging to her sisters after their death, probably in response to some explicit request on their part that all their private papers should be burnt. 94 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE scrap of paper she has written down the following re- lation: ' June 22, 1830, 6 o'clock p.m. ' Haworth, near Bradford. 'The following strange occurrence happened on June 22, 1830 : — At the time papa was very ill, confined to his bed, and so weak that he could not rise without assist- ance. Tabby and 1 were alone in the kitchen, about half- past nine ante-meridian (sic). Suddenly we heard a knock at the door ; Tabby rose and opened it. An old man ap- peared, standing without, who accosted her thus : ' Old Man. " Does the parson live here ?" 'Tabby. "Yes." ' Old Man. " I wish to see him." ' Tabby. " He is poorly in bed." ' Old Man. "I have a message for him." 'Tabby. ", Who from ?" ' Old Man. "From the Lord." ' Tabby. " Who ?" ' Old Man. " The Lord. He desires me to say that the Bridegroom is coming, and that we must prepare to meet Him ; that the cords are about to be loosed, and the golden bowl broken ; the pitcher broken at the fountain." ' Here he concluded his discourse, and abruptly went his way. As Tabby closed the door I asked her if she knew him. Her reply was that she had never seen him before, nor any one like him. Though I am fully persuaded that he was some fanatical enthusiast, well-meaning perhaps, but utterly ignorant of true piety, yet I could not forbear weeping at his words, spoken so unexpectedly at that par- ticular period.' Though the date of the following poem is a little uncer- tain, it may be most convenient to introduce it here. It must have been written before 1833, but how much earlier there are no means of determining. I give it as a specimen of the remarkable poetical talent shown in the various 1831 HER POETICAL TALENT 95 diminutive writings of this time, at least in all of them which I hare been able to read: THE WOUNDED STAG. Passing amid the deepest shade Of the wood's sombre heart, Last night I saw a wounded deer Laid lonely and apart. Such light as pierced the crowded boughs (Light scattered, scant, and dim) Passed through the fern that formed his couch, And centred full on him. Pain trembled in his weary limbs, Pain filled his patient eye ; Pain-crushed amid the shadowy fern His branchy crown did lie. Where were his comrades ? where his maje ? All from his death bed gone 1 And he, thus struck and desolate, Suffered and bled alone. Did he feel what a man might feel, Friend-left and sore distrest 1 Did Pain's keen dart, and Grief's sharp sting Strive in his mangled breast ? Did longing for affection lost Barb every deadly dart ; Love unrepaid, and Faith betrayed, Did these torment his heart ? No ! leave to man his proper doom ! These are the pangs that rise Around the bed of state and gloom, Where Adam's offspring dies ! CHAPTEE VI This is perhaps a fitting time to give some personal de- scription of Miss Bronte. In 1831 she was a quiet, thought- ful girl, of nearly fifteen years of age, very small in figure — ' stunted ' was the word she applied to herself — but, as her limbs and head were in just proportion to the slight, fragile body, no word in ever so slight a degree suggestive of deformity could properly be applied to her ; with soft, thick brown hair, and peculiar eyes, of which I find it dif- ficult to give a description, as they appeared to me in her later life. They were large and well shaped ; their colour a reddish brown ; but if the iris was closely examined it appeared to be composed of a great variety of tints. The usual expression was of quiet, listening intelligence; but now and then, on some just occasion for vivid interest or wholesome indignation, a light would shine out, as if some spiritual lamp had been kindled, which glowed behind those expressive orbs. I never saw the like in any other human creature. As for the rest of her features, they were plain, large, and ill set ; but, unless you began to catalogue them, you were hardly aware of the fact, for the eyes and power of the countenance overbalanced every physical defect ; the crooked mouth and the large nose were forgotten, and the whole face arrested the attention, and presently attracted all those whom she herself would have cared to attract. Her hands and feet were the smallest I ever saw ; when one of the former was placed in mine, it was like the soft touch of a bird in the middle of my palm. The delicate long fingers had a peculiar fineness of sensation, which was one reason why all her handiwork, of whatever kind — writing, sewing, 1831 PERSONAL DESCRIPTION OF MISS BRONTE 97 knitting — was so clear in its minuteness. She was remark- ably neat in her whole personal attire ; but she was dainty as to the fit of her shoes and gloves. I can well imagine that the grave, serious composure which, when I knew her, gave her face the dignity of an old Venetian portrait, was no acquisition of later years, but dated from that early age when she found herself in the position of an elder sister to motherless children. But in a girl only just entered on her teens such an expression would be called (to use a country phrase) 'old-fashioned;' and in 1831, the period of which I now write, we must think of her as a little, set, antiquated girl, very quiet in manners, and very quaint in dress ; for besides the influence exerted by her father's ideas concerning the simplicity of attire befitting the wife and daughters of a country clergyman, her aunt, on whom the duty of dress- ing her nieces principally devolved, had never been in society since she left Penzance, eight or nine years before, and the Penzance fashions of that day were still dear to her heart. In January 1831 Charlotte was sent to school again. This time she went as a pupil to, Miss W ,' who lived 1 In the first and second editions Mrs. Gaskell printed tbe name in full, 'Miss Wooler.' But it would seem clear that Miss Wooler had disliked the introduction of herself by name into the biography, and it became ' Miss W ' in later editions. As, however, she after- wards handed her letters from Charlotte to a friend for publication, she must have outlived this feeling of reticence. Margaret Wooler (1792-1885) was the eldest of a large family. She was assisted at dif- ferent times by her three sisters, Susan, Katherine, and Eliza, in her schools at Eoe Head and Dewsbury Moor. Susan Wooler became the wife of the Rev. E. N. Carter, vicar of Heckmondwike, who pre- pared Charlotte Bronte for confirmation when he was a curate at Mil-field Parish Church. After Margaret Wooler had given up school- keeping she lived first at Heckmondwike with her sister Susan (Mrs. Carter), and afterwards at Gomersal, near Leeds, where she died at the age of ninety-two. She was described by a pupil as ' short and stout, but graceful in her movements, very fluent in conversation, and with a very sweet voice.' She was buried in Birstall churchyard, 7 98 LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BRONTE at Koe Head, a cheerf ul, roomy country house, standing a little apart in a field, on the right of the road from Leeds to Huddersfield. Three tiers of old-fashioned semicircular bow windows run from basement to roof ; and look down upon a long green slope of pasture landj ending in the pleasant woods of Kirklees, Sir George Armitage's park. Although Roe Head and Haworth are not twenty miles apart, the aspect of the country is as totally dissimilar as if they enjoyed a different climate. The soft, curving and heaving landscape round the former gives a stranger the idea of cheerful airiness on the heights, and of sunny warmth in the broad green valleys below. It is just such a neighbourhood as the monks loved, and traces of the old Plantagenet times are to be met with everywhere, side by side with the manufacturing interests of the West Riding of to-day. There is the park of Kirklees, full of snnny glades, speckled with black shadows of immemorial yew trees ; the grey pile of building, formerly a ' House of pro- fessed Ladies;' the mouldering stone in the depth of the wood, under which Robin Hood is said to lie ; close outside the park, an old stone -gabled house, now a roadside inn, but which bears the name of the ' Three Nuns,' and has a picture sign to correspond. And this quaint old inn is fre- quented by fustian-dressed mill-hands from the neighbour- ing worsted factories, which strew the highroad from Leeds to Huddersfield, and form the centres round which future villages gather. Such are the contrasts of modes of living, and of times and seasons, brought before the traveller on the great roads that traverse the West Riding. In no other part of England, I fancy, are, the centuries brought into such close, strange contact as in the district in which Roe Head is situated. Within six miles of Miss Wooler's house — on the left of the road, coming from Leeds— lie the remains of Howley Hall, now the property of Lord where her epitaph runs as follows : — 'Margaret Wooler. Bom June 10, 1792. Died June 3, 1885. " By Thy Gross and Passion, good Lord, deliver us." ' a a a B O 1831 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF ROE HEAD 99 Cardigan, but formerly belonging to a branch of the Sav- iles. Near to it is Lady Anne's Well ; ' Lady Anne,' ac- cording to tradition, having been worried and eaten by wolves as she sat at the well, to which the indigo-dyed fac- tory people from Birstall and Batley woollen mills would formerly repair on Palm Sunday, when the waters possess remarkable medicinal efficacy ; and it is still believed by some that they assume a strange variety of colours at six o'clock on the morning of that day. All round the lands held by the farmer who lives in the remains of Howley Hall are stone houses of to-day, occu- pied by the people who are making their living and their fortunes by the woollen mills that encroach upon and shoulder out the proprietors of the ancient halls. These are to be seen in every direction, picturesque, many- gabled, with heavy stone carvings of coats of arms for he- raldic ornament ; belonging to decayed families, from whose ancestral lands field after field has been shorn away, by the urgency of rich manufacturers pressing hard upon neces- sity. A smoky atmosphere surrounds these old dwellings of former Yorkshire squires, and blights and blackens the ancient trees that overshadow them ; cinder paths lead up to them; the ground round about is sold for building upon ; but still the neighbours, though they subsist by a different state of things, remember that their forefathers lived in agricultural dependence upon the owners of these halls, and treasure up the traditions connected with the stately households that existed centuries ago. Take Oak- well Hall, for instance. It stands in a pasture field, about a quarter of a mile from the highroad. It is but that dis- tance from the busy whirr of steam engines employed in the woollen mills at Birstall ; and if you walk to it from Birstall Station about meal-time you encounter strings of mill hands, blue with woollen dye, and cranching in hun- gry haste over the cinder paths bordering the highroad. Turning off from this to the right, you ascend through an 100 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE old pasture field, and enter a short by-road, called the 'Bloody Lane' — a walk haunted by the ghost of a certain Captain Batt, the reprobate proprietor of an old hall close by, in the days of the Stuarts. Prom the ' Bloody Lane,' overshadowed by trees, you come into the field in which Oakwell Hall is situated. It is known in the neighbour- hood to be the place described as 'Field Head/ Shirley's residence. The enclosure in front, half court, half gar- den ; the panelled hall, with the gallery opening into the bedchambers running round ; the barbarous peach-coloured drawing-room ; the bright look-out through the garden door upon the grassy lawns and terraces behind, where the soft- hued pigeons still love to coo and strut in the sun — are described in 'Shirley.' The scenery of that fiction lies close around ; the real events which suggested it took place in the immediate neighbourhood. They show a bloody footprint in a bedchamber of Oak- well Hall, and tell a story connected with it, and with the lane by which the house is approached. Captain Batt was believed to be far away ; his family was at Oakwell ; when in the dusk, one winter evening, he came stalking along the land, and through the hall, and up the stairs, into his own room, where he vanished. He had been killed in a duel in London that very same afternoon of December 9, 1684. ' The stones of the Hall formed part of the more ancient vicarage, which an ancestor of Captain Batt had seized in the troublous times for property which succeeded the Refor- mation. This Henry Batt possessed himself of houses and money without scruple, and at last stole the great bell of Birstall Church, for which sacrilegious theft a fine was im- posed on the land, and has to be paid by the owner of the Hall to this day. But the Oakwell property passed out of the hands of the Batts at the beginning of the last century ; collateral de- 1 Oliver Heywood in his Northowram Register has this entry : 1684, 'Mr. Bat of Okewell, a young man, slain by Mr. Gream at Barne(t), near London ; buried at Birstall, Dee. 30.' 1831 SCHOOL AT ROE HEAD 101 scendants succeeded, and left this picturesque trace of their having been. In the great hall hangs a mighty pair of stag's horns, and dependent from them a printed card, re- cording the fact that on September 1, 1763, there was a great hunting match, when this stag was slain ; and that fourteen gentlemen shared in the chase, and dined on the spoil. in that hall, along with Fairfax Fearneley, Esq., the owner. The fourteen names are given, doubtless 'mighty men of yore;' but, among them all, Sir Fletcher Norton, Attorney-General, and Major-General Birch were the only ones with which I had any association in 1855. Passing on from Oakwell there lie houses right and left, which were well known to Miss Bronte, when she lived at Roe Head, as the hospitable homes of some of her schoolfellows. Lanes branch off for three or four miles to heaths and commons on the higher ground, which formed pleasant walks on hol- idays, and then comes the white gate into the field path, lead- ing to Roe Head itself. One of the bow-windowed rooms on the ground floor, with the pleasant look-out I have described, was the draw- ing-room ; the other was the schoolroom. The dining-room was on one side of the door, and faced the road. The number of pupils, during the year and a half Miss Bronte was there, ranged from seven to ten ; and as they did not require the whole of the house for their accommo- dation, the third story was unoccupied, except by the ghost- ly idea of a lady, whose rustling silk gown was sometimes heard by the listeners at the foot of the second flight of stairs. The kind, motherly nature of Miss Wooler and the small number of the girls made the establishment more like a private family than a school. Moreover she was a native of the district immediately surrounding Roe Head, as were the majority of her pupils. Most likely Charlotte Bronte, in coming from Haworth, came the greatest distance of all. ' E.'s ' home ' was five miles away ; two other dear friends ' 'E.' was Ellen Nussey (1817-97), a girl of fourteen when she first met Charlotte Bronte. Her home was at this time and until 1837 at 102 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE (the Rose and Jessie Yorke of ' Shirley') lived still nearer; two or three came from Huddersfield ; one or two from Leeds. I shall now quote from a valuable letter which I have received from ' Mary,' ' one of these early friends ; distinct and graphic in expression, as becomes a cherished associ- ate of Charlotte Bronte. The time referred to is her first appearance at Roe Head, on January 19, 1831. 'I first saw her coming out of a covered cart, in very The RydiDgs, Birstall, Yorks. From 1837 until long after Charlotte Bronte's death she lived at Brookroyd, in the same district. The Rydings served in part for ' Thornfield ' in Jane Eyre. Charlotte Bronte's friendship for Miss Nussey was enthusiastic and based upon gratitude for many kindnesses. Miss Nussey was probably from the first an ardent hero-worshipper of her more gifted friend — her senior by a year. In the period that succeeded Charlotte Bronte's death thig hero-worship became little less than idolatry, and Miss Nussey in her later years received numerous visitors who were anxious to learn something of the Bronte sisters. To these visitors she was always ready to give courteous consideration, although she was able to. add but little to the information which in the days when memory was most acute she had imparted to Mrs. Gaskell. She, however, inspired Sir Wemyss Reid, as has been stated, to write twenty years later his Charlotte Bronte : a Monograph. Miss Bronte denied, however — to her husband, Mr. Nicholls — that she had intended Caroline Helstone as a presentation of her friend. The whole collection of Charlotte Bronte's letters to Ellen Nussey was privately printed by Mr. J. Horsfall Turner, of Idle, Torks, apparently under the misapprehension that the letters written to a person are the owner's property for publica- tion, which legally they are not. These letters were reprinted, in almost complete form, by permission of Mr. Nicholls, Miss Bronte's husband and executor, in Charlotte Bronte and her Circle. Mrs. Gas- kell had seen the correspondence, and made her selection with abso- lute discernment of essentials. The original letters, most of which are now the property of Mr. Thomas Wise, of London, are valuable for the identification of names, which were necessarily omitted by Mrs. GaskelLat a time when many of the people referred to were still alive. Miss Nussey died at Birstall, Yorkshire, and was buried in Birstall churchyard, where her tomb is inscribed, 'Ellen Nussey, youngest daughter of the above - named John Nussey, who died November 26, 1897, aged 80 years.' 1 Mary Taylor, the Rose Yorke of Shirley. See p. 108. 1881 IMPRESSIONS OF A SCHOOLFELLOW 103 old-fashioned clothes, and looking very cold and misera- ble. She was coming to school at Miss Wooler's. When she appeared in the schoolroom her dress was changed, but just as old. She looked a little old woman, so short- sighted that she always appeared to be seeking something, and moving her head from side to side to catch a sight of it. She was very shy and nervous, and spoke with a strong Irish accent. When a book was given her she dropped her head over it till her nose nearly touched it, and when she was told to hold her head up, up went the book after it, still close to her nose, so that it was not pos- sible to help laughing.' This was the first impression she made upon one of those whose dear and valued friend she was to become in after-life. Another of the girls recalls her first sight of Charlotte, on the day she came, standing by the school- room window, looking out on the snowy landscape, and crying, while all the rest were at play. ' E.' was younger than she, and her tender heart was touched by the appar- ently desolate condition in which she found the oddly dressed, old - looking little girl that winter morning, as ' sick for home she stood in tears,' in a new strange place, among new strange people. Any over-demonstrative kind- ness would have scared the wild little maiden from Haworth ; but ' E.' (who is shadowed forth in the Caroline Helstone of ' Shirley ') managed to win confidence, and was allowed to give sympathy. To quote again from ' Mary's ' letter — ' We thought her very ignorant, for she had never learnt grammar at all, and very little geography.' This account of her partial ignorance is confirmed by her other schoolfellows. But Miss Wooler was a lady of remarkable intelligence and of delicate, tender sympathy. She gave a proof of this in her first treatment of Charlotte. The little girl was well read, but not well grounded. Miss Wooler took her aside and told her she was afraid that she must place her in the second class for some time, till she 104 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE could overtake the girls of her own age in the knowledge of grammar, &c; but poor Charlotte received this an- nouncement with so sad a fit of crying that Miss Wooler's kind heart was softened, and she wisely perceived that, with such a girl, it would be better to place her in the first class, and allow her to make up by private study in those branches where she was deficient. ' She would confound us by knowing things that were out of our range altogether. She was acquainted with most of the short pieces of poetry that we had to learn by heart; would tell us the authors, the poems they were taken from, and sometimes repeat a page or two, and tell us the plot. She had a habit of writing in italics (print- ing characters), and said she had learnt it by writing in their magazine. They brought out a " magazine " once a month, and wished it to look as like print as possible. She told us a tale out of it. No one wrote in it, and no one read it, but herself, her brother, and two sisters. She promised to show me some of these magazines, but re- tracted it afterwards, and would never be persuaded to do so. In our play hours she sat or stood still, with a book, if possible. Some of us once urged her to be on our side in a game of ball. She said she had never played, and could not play. We made her try, but soon found that she could not see the ball, so we pat her out. She took all our proceedings with pliable indifference, and always seemed to need a previous resolution to say " No " to any- thing. She used to go and stand under the trees in the playground, and say it was pleasanter. She endeavored to explain this, pointing out the shadows, the peeps of sky, &c. We understood but little of it. She said that at Cowan Bridge she used to stand in the burn, on a stone, to watch the water flow by. I told her she should have gone fishing; she said she never wanted. She always showed physical feebleness in everything. She ate no animal food at school. It was about this time I told her she was very ugly. Some years afterwards I told her I thought I had 1833 IMPRESSIONS OF A SCHOOLFELLOW 105 been very impertinent. She replied, " You did me a great deal of good, Polly, so don't repent of it." She used to draw- much better, and more quickly, than anything we had seen before, and knew much about celebrated pictures and paint- ers. Whenever an opportunity offered of examining a pict- ure or cut of any kind, she went over it piecemeal, with her eye3 close to the paper, looking so long that we used to ask her " what she saw in it." She could always see plenty, and explained it very well. She made poetry and drawing at least exceedingly interesting to me ; and then I got the habit, which I have yet, of referring mentally to her opin- ion on all matters of" that kind, along with many more, re- solving to describe such and such things to her, until I start at the recollection that I never shall/ To feel the full force of this last sentence — to show how steady and vivid was the impression which Miss Bronte made on those fitted to appreciate her — I must mention that the writer of this letter, dated January 18, 1856, in which she thus speaks of constantly referring to Charlotte's opinion, has never seen her for eleven years, nearly all of which have been passed among strange scenes, in a new continent, at the antipodes. ' We used to be furious politicians, as one could hardly help being in 1832. She knew the names of the two Min- istries ; the one that resigned, and the one that succeeded and passed the Eeform Bill. She worshipped the Duke of Wellington, but said that Sir Bobert Peel was not to be trusted ; he did not act from principle, like the rest, but from expediency. I, being of the furious Eadical party, told her, " How could any of them trust one another ? they were all of them rascals !" Then she would launch out into praises of the Duke of Wellington, referring to his actions ; which I could not contradict, as 1 knew nothing about him. She said she had taken interest in politics ever since she was five years old. She did not get her opinions from her father — that is, not directly — but from the papers, &c, he preferred.' 106 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE In illustration of the truth of this I may give an extract from a letter to her brother, written from Roe Head, May 17, 1832 :— ' Lately I had begun to think that I had lost all the interest which I used formerly to take in politics ; but the extreme pleasure I felt at the news of the Reform Bill's being thrown out by the House of Lords, and of the ex- pulsion, or resignation, of Earl Grey, &c, convinced me that I have not as yet lost all my penchant for politics. I am extremely glad that aunt has consented to take in " Praser's Magazine ; " for, though I know, from your de- scription of its general contents, it will be rather uninter- esting when compared with " Blackwood," still it will be better than remaining the whole year without being able to obtain a sight of any periodical whatever ; and such would assuredly be our case, as, in the little wild moorland vil- lage where we reside, there would be no possibility of bor- rowing a work of that description from a circulating li- brary. I hope with you that the present delightful weather may contribute to the perfect restoration of our dear papa's health ; and that it may give aunt pleasant reminiscences of the salubrious climate of her native place/ &C. 1 To return to ' Mary's ' letter — ' She used to speak of her two elder sisters, Maria and Elizabeth, who died at Cowan Bridge. I used to believe them to have been wonders of talent and kindness. She 1 This letter commenced as follows : — ' Dear Bran well, — As usual I address my weekly letter to you, be- cause to you I find the most to say. I feel exceedingly anxious to know how and in what state you arrived at home after your long and (I should think) very fatiguing journey. I could perceive when you arrived at Roe Head that you were very much tired, though you re- fused to acknowledge it. After you were gone many questions and subjects of conversation recurred to me which I had intended to men- tion to you, but quite forgot them in the agitation which I felt at the totally unexpected pleasure of seeing you.' And it ended, ' With love to all, believe me, dear Branwell, to remain your affectionate sister, * Charlotte.' 1832 HER SCHOOL DAYS AT ROE HEAD 107 told me, early one morning, that she had just been dream- ing : she had been told that she was wanted in the drawing- room, and it was Maria and Elizabeth. I was eager for her to go on, and when she said there was no more, I said," But go on ! Make it out! I know you can." She said she would not ; she wished she had not dreamed, for it did not go on nicely ; they were changed ; they had forgotten what they used to care for. They were very fashionably dressed, and began criticising the room, &c. 'This habit of "making out 1 " interests for themselves, that most children get who have none in actual life, was very strong in her. The whole family used to " make out " histories, and invent characters and events. I told her sometimes they were like growing potatoes in a cellar. She said, sadly, " Yes ! I know we are !" 'Some one at school said she "was always talking about clever 'people — Johnson, Sheridan," &c. She said, " Now you don't know the meaning of clever. Sheridan might be clever ; yes, Sheridan was clever — scamps often are — but Johnson hadn't a spark of cleverality in him." No one appreciated the opinion ; they made some trivial remark about "cleverality," and she said no more. ' This is the epitome of her life. At our house she had just as little chance of a patient hearing, for though not school-girlish we were more intolerant. We had a rage for practicality, and laughed all poetry to scorn. Neither she nor we had any idea but that our opinions were the opinions of all the sensible people in the world, and we used to astonish each other at every sentence. . . . Charlotte, at school, had no plan of life beyond what circumstances made for her. She knew that she must provide for herself, and chose her trade ; at least chose to begin it once. Her idea of self -improvement ruled her even at school. It was to cultivate her tastes. She always said there was enough of hard practicality and useful knowledge forced on us by necessity, and that the thing most needed was to soften and refine our minds. She picked up every scrap of infor- 108 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTfi mation concerning painting, sculpture, poetry, music, &c, as if it were gold.' What I have heard of her school days from other sources confirms the accuracy of the details in this remarkable let- ter. 1 She was an indefatigable student: constantly reading and learning ; with a strong conviction of the necessity and value of education, very unusual in a girl of fifteen. She never lost a moment of time, and seemed almost to grudge the necessary leisure for relaxation and play hours, which might be partly accounted for by the awkwardness in all games occasioned by her shortness of sight. Yet, in spite of these unsociable habits, she was a great favourite with her schoolfellows. She was always ready to try and do what they wished, though not sorry when they called her awkward and left her out of their sports. Then, at 1 This letter, which Mrs. Gaskell calls ' remarkable,' was written by a remarkable woman. Mary Taylor (1817-1893), the Rose Torke of Shirley, who is referred to by Mrs. Gaskell as ' Mary,' was with her sister Martha — the Jessie Yorke of Shirley— -at Roe Head with Charlotte Bronte. She received much additional education at Brus- sels, where Martha died and was buried in the Protestant cemetery. Reverses coming to her family — whose characteristics ran much upon the same lines as those of the Yorkes of Shirley — Mary Taylor emi- grated to Wellington, New Zealand, where she started a small drapery store. This and other letters to Mrs. Gaskell are written from Wel- lington. All her letters show remarkable intellectual powers, and in- deed it would not be too much to say that until Miss Bronte attained to literary fame Mary Taylor was the only human being of a high or- der of intelligence with whom she had come in contact apart from her own family circle. Miss Taylor's two books, however, published upon her return to England, had no special significance. One of them, Miss Miles : a Tale of Yorkshire Life Sixty Years Ago, was published so late as 1890, while The First Duty of Women : a Series of Articles reprinted from the ' Victorian Magazine, 1865 to 1870,' was published in 1870. The last thirty years of her life were passed in a house built for her by a brother at High Royd, near Gomersal, Yorks, and here she died in March 1893, aged seventy-six. Her tomb in Gomersal churchyard is inscribed, ' In affectionate remembrance of Mary Tay- lor of High Royd, Gomersal'. Born February 26, 1817. Died March 1, 1893.' 1832 HER SCHOOL DAYS AT ROE HEAD 109 night, she was an invaluable story-teller, frightening them almost out of their wits as they lay in bed. On one occa- sion the effect was such that she was led to scream out aloud, and Miss Wooler, coming upstairs, found that one of the listeners had been seized with violent palpitations in consequence of the excitement produced by Charlotte's story. Her indefatigable craving for knowledge tempted Miss Wooler on into setting her longer and longer tasks of read- ing for examination ; and towards the end of the year and a half that she remained as a pupil at Roe Head she received her first bad mark for an imperfect lesson. She had had a great quantity of Blair's ' Lectures on Belles-Lettres ' to read, and she could not answer some of the questions upon it; Charlotte Bronte had a bad mark. Miss "Wooler was sorry, and regretted that she had set Charlotte so long a task. Charlotte cried bitterly. But her schoolfellows were more than sorry — they 'were indignant. They declared that the infliction of ever so slight a punishment on Charlotte Bronte was unjust — for who had tried to do her duty like her ? — and testified their feeling in a variety of ways, until Miss Wooler, who was in reality only too willing to pass over her good pupil's first fault, withdrew the bad mark ; and the girls all returned to their allegiance except ' Mary,' who took her own way during the week or two that re- mained of the half-year, choosing to consider that Miss Wooler, in giving Charlotte Bronte so long a task, had forfeited her claim to obedience of the school regulations. The number of pupils was so small that the attendance to certain subjects at particular hours, common in larger schools, was not rigidly enforced. When the girls were ready with their lessons they came to Miss Wooler to say them. She had a remarkable knack of making them feel interested in whatever they had to learn. They set to their studies, not as to tasks or duties to be got through, but with a healthy desire and thirst for knowledge, of which she had managed to make them perceive the relishing 110 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE savour. They did not leave off reading and learning as soon as the compulsory pressure of school was taken away. They had been taught to think, to analyse, to reject, to appreciate. Charlotte Bronte was happy in the choice made for her of the second school to which she was sent. There was a robust freedom in the out-of-doors life of her companions. They played at merry games in the fields round the house : on Saturday half-holidays they went long scrambling walks down mysterious shady lanes, then climb- ing the uplands, and thus gaining extensive views over the country, about which so much had to be told, both of its past and present history. Miss Wooler must have had in great perfection the French art 'conter/to judge from her pupil's recollections of the tales she related during these long walks, of this old house, or that new mill, and of the states of society conse- quent on the changes involved by the suggestive dates of either building. She remembered the times when watchers or wakeners in the night heard the distant word of com- mand and the measured tramp of thousands of sad, desperate men receiving a surreptitious military training, in prepara- tion for some great day which they saw in their visions, when right should struggle with might and come off victo- rious ; when the people of England, represented by the workers of Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Nottinghamshire, should make their voice heard in a terrible slogan, since their true and pitiful complaints could find no hearing in Parliament. We forget nowadays, so rapid have been the changes for the better, how cruel was the condition of num- bers of labourers at the close of the great Peninsular war. The half-ludicrous nature of some of their grievances has lingered on in tradition ; the real intensity of their suffer- ings has become forgotten. They were maddened and des- perate ; and the country, in the opinion of many, seemed to, be on the verge of a precipice,from which it was only saved by the prompt and resolute decision of a few in authority. Miss Wooler spoke of those times ; of the mysterious nightly 1832 MR. CART WRIGHT AND THE LUDDITES 111 drillings ; of thousands on lonely moors ; of the mattered threats of individuals too closely pressed upon by necessity to be prudent ; of the overt acts, in which the burning of Cartwright's mill took a prominent place ; and these things sank deep into the mind of one, at least, among her hearers. Mr. Cartwright was the owner of a factory called Raw- folds, in Liversedge, not beyond the distance of a walk from Roe Head. He had dared to employ machinery for the dressing of wollen cloth, which was an unpopular measure in 1812, when many other circumstances conspired to make the condition of the mill-hands unbearable from the press- ure of starvation and misery. Mr. Cartwright was a very remarkable man, having, as I have been told, some foreign blood in him, the traces of which were very apparent in his tall figure, dark eyes and complexion, and singular though gentlemanly bearing. At any rate he had been much abroad, and spoke French well, of itself a suspicious circum- stance to the bigoted nationality of those days. Altogether he was an unpopular man, even before he took the last step of employing shears, 1 instead of hands, to dress his wool. He was quite aware of his unpopularity, and of the probable consequences. He had his mill prepared for an assault. He took up his lodgings in it ; and the doors were strongly barricaded at night. On every step of the stairs there was placed a roller, spiked with barbed points all round, so as to impede the ascent of the rioters, if they succeeded in forcing the doors. On the night of Saturday, April 11, 1812, the assault was made. Some hundreds of starving cloth-dressers assembled in the very field, near Kirklees that sloped down from the house which Miss Wooler afterwards inhabited, and were armed by their leaders with pistols, hatchets, and bludgeons, many of which had been extorted, by the nightly bands that 1 This should have been ' cropping machines ; ' shears were em ployed in dressing cloth by hand. Nor was it unspun wool, but cloth, over which the Luddites rioted. 112 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE prowled about the country, from such inhabitants of lonely nouses as had provided themselves with these means of self-defence. The silent, sullen multitude marched in the dead of that spring night to Rawf olds, and, giving tongue with a great shout, roused Mr. Cartwright up to the knowledge that the long-expected attack was come. He was within walls, it is true ; but against the fury of hun- dreds he had only four of his own workmen and five sol- diers to assist him. These ten men, however, managed to keep up such a vigorous and well-directed fire of musketry that they defeated all the desperate attempts of the multi- tude outside to break down the doors, and force a way into the mill ; and, after a conflict of twenty minutes, during which two of the assailants were killed and several wound- ed, they withdrew in confusion, leaving Mr. Cartwright master of the field, but so dizzy and exhausted, now the peril was past, that he forgot the nature of his defences, and injured his leg rather seriously by one of the spiked rollers, in attempting to go up his own staircase. His dwelling was near the factory. Some of the rioters vowed that, if he did not give in, they would leave this, and go to his house, and murder his wife and children. This was a terrible threat, for he had been obliged to leave his family with only one or two soldiers to defend them. Mrs. Cart- wright knew what they had threatened ; and on that dreadful night, hearing, as she thought, steps approach- ing, she snatched up her two infant children, and put them in a basket up the great chimney, common in old-fashioned Yorkshire houses. One of the two children who had been thus stowed away used to point out with pride, after she had grown up to woman's estate, the marks of musket shot and the traces of gunpowder on the walls of her father's mill. He was the first that had offered any resistance to the progress of the 'Luddites,' who had become by this time so numerous as almost to assume the character of an insurrectionary army. Mr. Cartwright's conduct was so much admired by the neighbouring mill-owners that they 1833 MR. ROBERSON OF HEALD'S HALL 113 entered into a subscription for his benefit, which amounted in the end to 3,000Z.i Not much more than a fortnight after this attack on Rawfolds, another manufacturer who employed the ob- noxious machinery was shot down in broad daylight, as he was passing over Orossland Moor, which was skirted by a small plantation in which the murderers lay hidden. The readers of 'Shirley' will recognise these circumstances, which were related to Miss Bronte years after they oc- curred, but on the very spots where they took place, and by persons who remembered full well those terrible times of insecurity to life and property on the one hand, and of bitter starvation and blind, ignorant despair on the other. Mr. Bronte himself had been living amongst these very people in 1812, as he was then clergyman at Hartshead, not three miles from Rawfolds ; and, as I have mentioned, it was in these perilous times that he began his custom of carrying a loaded pistol continually about with him. For not only his Tory politics, but his love and regard for the authority of the law made him despise the cowardice of the surrounding magistrates, who, in their dread of the Luddites, refused to interfere so as to prevent the destruc- tion of property. The clergy of the district were the bravest men by far. There was a Mr. Roberson, of Heald's Hall, a friend of Mr. Bronte, who has left a deep impression of himself on the public mind. He lived near Heckmondwike, a large, straggling, dirty village, not two miles from Roe Head. It was principally inhabited by blanket weavers, who worked in their own cottages ; and Heald's Hall is the largest house in the village, of which Mr. Roberson was the vicar. At his own cost he built a handsome church at Liversedge, on a hill opposite the one on which his house stood, which was the first attempt in the West Riding to meet the wants 1 Cartwright was buried in Liversedge churchyard. The inscrip- tion on his tomb runs, ' Wm. Cartwright, of Rawfolds, died April 15, 1839, aged 64 years.' 8 114 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE of the overgrown population, and made many personal sac- rifices for his opinions, both religious and political, which were of the true old-fashioned Tory stamp. He hated everything which he fancied had a tendency towards anarchy. He was loyal in every fibre to Church and King ; and would have proudly laid down his life, any day, for what he believed to be right and true. But he was a man of an imperial will, and by it he bore down op- position, till tradition represents him as having something grimly demoniac about him. He was intimate with Cart- wright, and aware of the attack likely to be made on his mill; accordingly, it is said, he armed himself and his household, and was prepared to come to the rescue, in the event of a signal being given that aid was needed. Thus far is likely enough. Mr. Roberson had plenty of warlike spirit in him, man of peace though he was. But, in consequence of his having taken the unpopular side, exaggerations of his character linger as truth in the minds of the people ; and a fabulous story is told of his forbidding any one to give water to the wounded Luddites, left in the mill yard, when he rode in the next morning to congratulate his friend Cartwright on his successful de- fence. Moreover, this stern, fearless clergyman had the soldiers that were sent to defend the neighbourhood bil- leted at his house ; and this deeply displeased the work- people, who were to be intimidated by the red-coats. Al- though not a magistrate, he spared no pains to track out the Luddites concerned in the assassination I have men- tioned ; and was so successful in his acute, unflinching energy that it was believed he had been supernaturally aided ; and the country' people, stealing into the fields sur- rounding Heald's Hall on dusky winter evenings, years after this time, declared that through the windows they saw Par- son Roberson dancing, in a strange red light, with black demons all whirling and eddying round him. He kept a large boys' school, and made himself both respected and dreaded by his pupils. He added a grim kind of humour to 1832 MR. ROBERSON OF HEALD'S HALL 115 his strength of will ; and the former quality suggested to his fancy strange, out-of-the-way kinds of punishment for any refractory pupils : for instance, he made them stand on one leg in a corner of the schoolroom, holding a heavy book in each hand ; and once, when a boy had run away home, he followed him on horseback, reclaimed him from his parents, and, tying him by a rope to the stirrup of his saddle, made him run alongside of his horse for the many miles they had to traverse before reaching Heald's Hall. One other illustration of his character may be given. He discovered that his servant Betty had ' a follower ;' and, watching his time till Richard was found in the kitchen, he ordered him into the dining-room, where the pupils were all assembled. He then questioned Richard whether he had come after Betty ; and on his confessing the truth, Mr. Roberson gave the word, ' Off with him, lads, to the pump !' The poor lover was dragged to the courtyard, and the pump set to play upon him ; and, between every drenching, the question was put to him, 'Will you promise not to come after Betty again ?' For a long time Richard bravely re- fused to give in, when ' Pump again, lads !' was the order. But, at last, the poor soaked ' follower ' was forced to yield, and renounce his Betty. 1 The Yorkshire character of Mr. Roberson would be in- complete if I did not mention his fondness for horses. He lived to be a very old man, dying some time nearer to 1840 than 1830 ; and even after he was eighty years of age he took great delight in breaking refractory steeds ; if neces- sary, he would sit motionless on their backs for half an hour or more to bring them to. There is a story current that once, in a passion, he shot his wife's favourite horse, and 1 There is another side to this story, if a tradition, thus recorded by- Mr. Erskine Stuart, is to be relied on : — ' Two can play at practical jokes, and the half-drowned swain and a few kindred spirits paid a midnight visit to Roberson's yard, de- stroyed all the milk pans, and poured their precious contents on the ground as a libation to their god, Revenge.' 116 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE buried it near a quarry, where the ground, some years after, miraculously opened and displayed the skeleton ; but the real fact is, that it was an act of humanity to put a poor old horse out of misery ; and that, to spare it pain, he shot it with his own hand, and buried it where, the ground sink- ing afterwards by the working of a coal-pit, the bones came to light. The traditional colouring shows the animus with which his memory is regarded by one set of people. By another, the neighbouring clergy, who remember him rid- ing, in his old age, down the hill on which his house stood, upon his strong white horse — his bearing proud and digni- fied, his shovel hat bent over and shadowing his keen eagle eyes — going to his Sunday duty, like a faithful soldier that dies in harness — who can appreciate his loyalty to con- science, his sacrifices to duty, and his stand by his religion — his memory is venerated. In his extreme old age a ru- bric meeting was held, at which his clerical brethren gladly subscribed to present him with a testimonial of their deep respect and regard. 1 This is a specimen of the strong character not seldom manifested by the Yorkshire elergy of the Established 1 Hammond Roberson (1757-1841), bom at Cawston, Norfolk, was a student of Magdalen College, Cambridge. He was curate of Dews- bury, Yorks, for nine years from 1779. In 1788 he resigned his curacy and took up his residence at Squirrel Hall, Dewsbury Moor. Here he remained and began a successful career as a teacher. In 1795 he par- chased Heald's Hall, Liversedge, and shortly afterwards became in- cumbent of Hartshead-cum-Clifton, resigning in 1800. In 1813 he delivered a sermon — afterwards published — at the laying of the founda- tion stone of a church at Liversedge, which he was largely instrumental in building. It was completed in 1816. A memorial window to him in Liversedge Church bears the inscription — ' To the glory of God, and in memory of the Sev. Hammond Roberson, M.A., Founder of this Church in 1816, and its first Incumbent, who died Wh August, 1841, aged 84 years;' and his tombstone in the churchyard bears the following inscripT tion : — ' T!ie Rev. Hammond Boberson, Founder of this Ohurch in 1816, died August 9th, 1841, aged 84.' 1832 SCENES AT HECKMONDWIKE CHAPELS 117 Church. Mr. Eoberson was a friend of Charlotte Bronte's father ; lived within a couple of miles of Roe Head while she was at school there ; and was deeply engaged in trans- actions, the memory of which was yet recent when she heard of them, and of the part which he had had in them. I may now say a little on the character of the Dissenting population immediately surrounding Koe Head; for the ' Tory and clergyman's daughter/ ' taking interest in pol- itics ever since she was five years old/ and holding frequent discussions with such of the girls as were Dissenters and Radicals, was sure to have made herself as much acquainted as she could with the condition of those to whom she was opposed in opinion. The bulk of the population were Dissenters, principally Independents. In the village of Heckmondwike, at one end of which Roe Head is situated/ there were two large chapels belonging to that denomination, and one to the Methodists, all of which were well filled two or three times on a Sun- day, besides having various prayer meetings, fully attended on weekdays. The inhabitants were a chapel-going peo- ple, very critical about the doctrine of their sermons, tyran- nical to their ministers, and violent Radicals in politics. A friend, well acquainted with the place when Charlotte Bronte was at school, has described some events which oc- curred then among them : — 'A scene, which took place at the Lower Chapel, at Heckmondwike, will give you some idea of the people at that time. When a newly married couple made their ap- pearance at chapel, it was the custom to sing the Wedding Anthem, just after the last prayer, and as the congregation was quitting the chapel. The band of singers who per- formed this ceremony expected to have money given them, and often passed the following night in drinking; at least so said the minister of the place ; and he determined to put an end to this custom. In this he was supported by 1 Roe Head is more than two miles from Heckmondwike. 118 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE many members of the chapel and congregation; but so strong was the democratic element, that he met with the most violent opposition and was often insulted when he went into the street. A bride was expected to make her first appearance, and the minister told the singers not to perform the anthem. On their declaring they would he had the large pew which they usually occupied locked ; they broke it open. From the pulpit he told the congrega- tion that, instead of their singing a hymn, he would read a chapter ; hardly had he uttered the first word, before up rose the singers, headed by a tall, fierce - looking weaver, who gave out a hymn, and all sang it at the very top of their voices, aided by those of their friends who were in the chapel. Those who disapproved of the conduct of the singers, and sided with the minister, remained seated till the hymn was finished. Then he gave out the chapter again, read it, and preached. He was just about to conclude with prayer, when up started the singers and screamed forth another hymn. These disgraceful scenes were continued for many weeks, and so violent was the feeling that the different parties could hardly keep from blows as they came through the chapel - yard. The minister, at last, left the place, and along with him went many of the most tem- perate and respectable part of the congregation, and the singers remained triumphant. 'I believe that there was such a violent contest respect- ing the choice" of a pastor, about this time, in the Upper Chapel at Heckmondwike, that the Riot Act had to be read at a church meeting." Certainly, the soi-disant Christians who forcibly ejected Mr. Redhead at Haworth ten or twelve years before, held a very heathen brotherhood with the soi-disant Christians of Heckmondwike, though the one set might be called 1 This story was very much resented by the Heckmondwike, Non- conformists. Mr. J. J. Stead, of Heckmondwike, informs me that the pastor of the Upper Chapel was elected in 1823 by an unanimous vote, and he remained there until his death in 1862. 1883 THE HECKMONDWIKE 'LECTURE' 119 members of the Church of England and the other Dis- senters. The letter from which I have taken the above extract relates throughout to the immediate neighbourhood of the place where Charlotte Bronte spent her school-days, and describes things as they existed at that very time. The writer says, 'Having been accustomed to the respectful manners of the lower orders in the agricultural districts, I was, at first, much disgusted and somewhat alarmed at the great freedom displayed by the working classes of Heck- mondwike and Gomersal to those in a station above them. The term "lass" was as freely applied to any young lady as the word " wench " is in Lancashire. The extremely untidy appearance of the villagers shocked me not a little, though I must do the housewives the justice to say that the cottages themselves were not dirty, and had an air of rough plenty about them (except when trade was bad), that I had not been accustomed to see in the farming districts. The heap of coals on one side of the house door, and the brewing tubs on the other, and the frequent perfume of malt and hops as you walked along, proved that fire and " home- brewed" were to be found at almost every man's hearth. Nor was hospitality, one of the main virtues of Yorkshire, wanting. Oat cake, cheese, and beer were freely pressed upon the visitor. ' There used to be a yearly festival, half religious, half social, held at Heckmondwike, called " The Lecture." ' I » 1 This ' Lecture ' is still continued, and is held on the Tuesday and Wednesday after the second Sunday in June. It was started in 1761 by the Rev. James Scott, then Congregational minister at Heckmond- wike, who had inaugurated an Academy for the training of ministers, which was the nucleus of the Airedale and the Rotherhara Colleges, now the United Independent College, Bradford. Finding himself an- noyed by the interruptions caused by the frequent visitAf the friends and relatives of the students, he decided to appoint one day in the year, and provided a plain dinner for them ; and, in order that they might be profitably entertained, he secured some noted preacher to give a lecture or conduct a service, which institution has continued 120 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE fancy it had come down from the times of the Nonconform- ists. A sermon was preached by some stranger at the Lower Chapel on a week-day evening, and the next day two sermons in succession were delivered at the Upper Chapel. Of course the service was a very long one, and as the time was June, and the weather often hot, it used to be regarded by myself and my companions as no pleasura- ble way of passing the morning. The rest of the day was spent in social enjoyment ; great numbers of strangers flocked to the place ; booths were erected for the sale of toys and gingerbread (a sort of "Holy Fair"); and the cot- tages, having had a little extra paint and whitewashing, as- sumed quite a holiday look. 'The village of Gomersal' (where Charlotte Bronte's friend 'Mary' lived with her family), ' which was a much prettier place than Heckmondwike, contained a strange- looking cottage, built of rough unhewn stones, many of them projecting considerably, with uncouth heads and grinning faces carved upon them ; and upon a stone above the door was cut, in large letters, "Spite Hall." It was erected by a man in the village, opposite to the house of his enemy, who had just finished for himself a good house, commanding a beautiful view down the valley, which this hideous building quite shut out.' Fearless — because this people were quite familiar to all of them — amidst such a population, lived and walked the gentle Miss Wooler's eight or nine pupils. She herself was born and bred among this rough, strong, fierce set, and knew the depth of goodness and loyalty that lay beneath unto this day. Now there are services at the three large Congrega- tional chapels in the town. On the Tuesday evening two sermons are preached at Westgate (formerly Lower) Chapel ; next morning two at the Uppe'FChapel, and in the evening one at George Street Chapel, the services being attended by ministers and people of all denomina- tions, who come from miles around ; and the chapels are packed to their utmost capacity, for the preachers are generally the leading men of the day.. 1832 THE HECKMONDWIKE 'LECTURE' 121 their wild manners and insubordinate ways. And the girls talked of the little world around them, as if it were the only world that was ; and had their opinions and their parties, and their fierce discussions like their elders — pos- sibly their betters. And among them, beloved and re- spected by all, laughed at occasionally by a few, but always to her face, lived, for a year and a half, the plain, short- sighted, oddly dressed, studious little girl they called Charlotte Bronte. CHAPTBK VII Miss Beontb left Koe Head in 1832, having won the af- fectionate regard both of her teacher and her schoolfellows, and having formed there the two fast friendships which lasted her whole life long ; the one with ' Mary,' who has not kept her letters ; the other with ' E.,' ' who has kindly intrusted me with a large portion of Miss Bronte's corre- spondence with her. This she has been induced to do by her knowledge of the urgent desire on the part of Mr. Bronte that the life of his daughter should be written, and in compliance with a request from her husband that I should be permitted to have the use of these letters, with- out which such a task could be but very imperfectly exe- cuted. In order to shield this friend, however, from any blame or misconstruction, it is only right to state that, be- fore granting me this privilege, she throughout most care- fully and completely effaced the names of the persons and places which occurred in them ; and also that such infor- mation as I have obtained from her bears reference solely to Miss Bronte and her sisters, and not to any other in- dividuals whom I may find it necessary to allude, to in connection with them. In looking over the earlier portion of this correspond- ence I am struck afresh by the absence of hope, which formed such a strong characteristic in Charlotte. At an age when girls, in general, look forward to an eternal 1 'B.' as haa been said, was Ellen Nussey, whom it will be more convenient henceforth to refer to as 'Ellen.' She received altogether about five hundred letters from Charlotte Bronte and two from Emily. See p. 101. 1832 LIFE AT THE PARSONAGE 123 duration of such feelings as they or their friends enter- tain, and can therefore see no hindrance to the fulfilment of any engagements dependent on the future state of the affections, she is surprised that Blleu keeps her promise to write. In after-life I was painfully impressed with the fact, that Miss Bronte never dared to allow herself to look forward with hope ; that she had no confidence in the future ; and I thought, when I heard of the sorrowful years she had passed through, that it had been this press- ure of grief which had crushed all buoyancy of expecta- tion out of her. But it appears from the letters that it must have been, so to speak, constitutional ; or, perhaps, the deep pang of losing her two elder sisters combined with a permanent state of bodily weakness in producing her hope- lessness. If her trust in God had been less strong, she would have given way to unbounded anxiety at many a period of her life. As it was, we shall see, she made a great and successful effort to leave 'her times in His hands.' After her return home she employed herself in teach- ing her sisters, over whom she had had superior advan- tages. She writes thus, July 21, 1832, of her course of life at the parsonage : — ' An account of one day is an account of all. In the morning, from nine o'clock till half-past twelve, I instruct my sisters, and draw; then we walk till dinner time. After dinner I sew till tea time, and after tea I either write, read, or do a little fancy work, or draw, as I please. Thus, in one delightful, though somewhat monotonous course my life is passed. I have been out only twice to tea since I came home. We are expecting company this afternoon, and on Tuesday next we shall have all the fe- male teachers of the Sunday school to tea.' ' 1 This letter concludes : — ' I do hope, my dearest Ellen, that you will return to school again for your own sake, though for mine I would rather that you would remain at home, as we shall then have more frequent opportunities for correspond- 134 ' LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BRONTE I may here introduce a quotation from a letter "which I have received from 'Mary' since the publication of the previous editions of this memoir. 'Soon after leaving school she admitted reading some- thing of Cobbett's. " She did not like him," she said ; "but all was fish that came to her net." At this time she wrote to me that reading and drawing were the only amusements she had, and that her supply of books was very small in proportion to her wants. She never spoke of her aunt. When I saw Miss Branwell she was a very precise person, and looked very odd, because her dress, &c, was so ut- terly out of fashion. She corrected one of us once for using the word "spit" for "spitting." She made a great favourite of Branwell. She made her nieces sew, with purpose or without, and as far as possible discouraged any other culture. She used to keep the girls sewing charity clothing, and maintained to me that it was not for the good of the recipients, but of the sewers. "It was proper for them to do it," she said. Charlotte never was "in wild excitement" that I know of, When in health she used to talk better, and indeed when in low spirits never spoke at all. She needed her best spirits ence with each other. Should your friends decide against your returning to school, I know you have too much good sense and right feeling not to strive earnestly for your own improvement. Your natural abilities are excellent, and" under the direction of a judicious and able friend (and I know you have many such) you might acquire a decided taste for elegant literature, and even poetry, which, indeed, is included un- der that general term. I was very much disappointed by your not sending the hair ; you may be sure, my dearest Ellen, that I would not grudge double postage to obtain it, but I must offer the same excuse for not sending you any. My aunt and sisters desire their love to you. Remember me kindly to your mother and sisters, and accept all the fondest expressions of genuine attachment from your real friend, Chaelottb Bronte. ' P.S. — Remember the mutual promise we made of a regular corre- spondence with each other. Excuse all faults in this wretched scrawl. Give my love to the Miss Taylors when you see them. Farewell, my dear, dear, dear Ellen-' 1833 LIFE AT THE PARSONAGE 125 to say what was in her heart, for at other times she had not courage. She never gave decided opinions at such times. . . . ' Charlotte said she could get on with any one who had a bump at the top of their heads (meaning conscientious- ness). I found that I seldom differed from her, except that she was far too tolerant of stupid people, if they had a grain of kindness in them.' It was about this time that Mr. Bronte provided his children with a teacher in drawing, who turned out to be a man of considerable talent, but very little principle. 1 Although they never attained to anything like proficiency, they took great interest in acquiring this art ; evidently, from an instinctive desire to express powerful imagina- tions in visible forms." Charlotte told me that, at this pe- riod of her life, drawing, and walking out with her sisters, formed the two great pleasures and relaxations of her day. The three girls used to walk upwards toward the ' purple- black ' moors, the sweeping surface of which was broken by here and there a stone quarry ; and if they had strength and time to go far enough they reached a waterfall, where the beck fell over some rocks into the 'bottom.' They seldom went downwards through the village. They were shy of meeting even familiar faces, and were scrupulous about entering the house of the very podrest uninvited. They were steady teachers at the Sunday school, a habit 1 This was William Robinson, a native of Leeds, who had attained to some success as a portrait painter. According to Leyland (The Bronte Family) Robinson painted four portraits for the United Ser- vice Club. He was for a short time a pupil of Sir Thomas Lawrence, and afterwards of Fuseli. He died in Leeds in 1839. His friends re- sented the statement in the text as to his lack of principle. 5 Charlotte Bronte materially injured her eyesight, necessitating the wearing of spectacles, by her laborious efforts at copying old line engravings. Many of these minute copies are still extant. Branwell told George Searle Phillips (the Mirroi; 1872) that his sister had spent six months over one of these copies. 126 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE which Charlotte kept up very faithfully, even after she was left alone; but they never faced their kind voluntarily, and always preferred the solitude and freedom of the moors. In the September of this year Charlotte went to pay her first visit to her friend Ellen. It took her into the neigh- bourhood of Roe Head, and brought her into pleasant con- tact with many of her old schoolfellows. 1 After this visit she and her friend seem to have agreed to correspond in French, for the sake of improvement in the language. But this improvement could not be great, when it could only amount to a greater familiarity with dictionary words,,ahd when there was no one to explain to- them that a'verbal translation of English idioms hardly constituted French composition ; but the effort was laudable, and of itself shows how willing they both were to carry on the educa- tion which they had begun under Miss Wooler. I will give an extract which, whatever may be thought of the language, is graphic enough, and presents ns with a happy little family picture ; the eldest sister returning home to the two younger, after a fortnight's absence. ' J'arrivait a Ha worth en parf aite sauvete sans le moin- dre accident ou malheur. Mes petites sceurs couraient hors de la maison pour me rencontrer aussit6t que la voiture se fit voir, et elles m'embrassaient avec autant d'empressement et de plaisir comme si j'avajs ete absente pour plus d'an. Mon Papa, ma Tante, et le monsieur dont mon frere avoit parle, furent tons assembles dans le Salon, et en peu de temps je m'y rendis aussi. C'est sonvent l'ordre du Ciel que quand on a perdu un plaisir il y en a un autre pr6t a prendre sa place. Ainsi je venois de partir de tres chers amis, mais tout a l'heure je revins a des parens aussi chers et bon dans le moment. Mime que vous me perdiez (ose-je croire que mon depart vous etait un chagrin ?) vous atten- dees l'arrivee de votre frere, et de votre sceur. J'ai donne 1 This was at The Rydings, where Ellen Nussey was staying with an elder brother. ■up ^V " V ~*i .y\l '■:., ■' i M v; "/m Pi , ■ v • . , 1 Kl t C '■''■■ * t % ~ ,.* * *•* 7 4- ' . . ■ •■ ; . - •. ■ . ■ • i '■ . J. ■* ■*. . - J, . • -s 4 P. - fSk i V ' . H 'v y ! • ■ i 'I 1 .;'-'-- / i ft'/ ? 1 .. '"\-^ .--_T<. ' ■ '■ , ■. ■' 1 '.;"'■ i' U»| 1832 BOOKS AT THE PARSONAGE 127 a mes sceurs les pommes que vous leur envoyiez avec tant de bonte ; elles disent qn'elles sont sur que Mademoiselle B. est tres aimable et bonne ; l'une et l'autre sont extrSme- ment impatientes de vous voir ; j'espere qu'en pen de mois elles auront ce plaisir.' But it was some time yet before the friends could meet, and meanwhile they agreed to correspond once a month. There were no events to chronicle in the Haworth let- ters. Quiet days, occupied in teaching, and feminine occupations in the house, did not present much to write about ; and Charlotte was naturally driven to criticise books. Of these there were many in different plights, and, ac- cording to their plight, kept in different places. The well- bound were ranged in the sanctuary of Mr. Bronte's study ; but the purchase of books was a necessary luxury to him, but as it was often a choice between binding an old one and buying a new one, the familiar volume, which had been hungrily read by all the members of the family, was some- times in such a condition that the bedroom shelf was con- sidered its fitting place. Up and down the house were to be found many standard works of a solid kind. Sir Walter Scott's writing, Wordsworth's and Southey's poems were among the lighter literature ; while, as having a character of their own — earnest, wild, and occasionally fanatical — may be named some of the books which came from the Branwell side of the family — from the Cornish followers of the saintly John Wesley — and which are touched on in the account of the works to which Caroline Helstone had access in 'Shirley :' — 'Some venerable Lady's Magazines, that had once performed a voyage with their owner, and undergone a storm ' (possibly part of the relics of Mrs. Bronte's possessions, contained in the ship wrecked on the coast of Cornwall), 'and whose pages were stained with salt water ; some mad Methodist Magazines full of mira- cles and apparitions and preternatural warnings, ominous dreams, and frenzied fanaticisms ; and the equally mad 128 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE letters of Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe from the Dead to the Living/ ' Mr. Bronte encouraged a taste for reading in his girls ; and though Miss Branwell kept it in due bounds, by the variety of household occupations, in which she expected them not merely to take a part, but to become proficients, thereby occupying regularly a good portion of every day, they were allowed to get books from the circulating library at Keighley ; and many a happy walk up those long four miles must they have had, burdened with some new book, into which they peeped as they hurried home. Not that the books were what would generally be called new ; in the beginning of 1833 the two friends seem almost simulta- neously to have fallen upon ' Kenilworth/ and Charlotte writes as follows about it : — ' I am glad you like "Kenilworth;" it is certainly more resembling a romance than a novel : in my opinion, one of the most interesting works that ever emanated from the great Sir "Walter's pen. Varney is certainly the personifi- cation of consummate villany ; and in the delineation of his dark and profoundly artful mind Scott exhibits a won- derful knowledge of human nature, as well as a surprising skill in embodying his perceptions, so as to enable others to become participators in that knowledge.' 1 Four books that are extant belonging to an earlier period than this are — I. The Imitation of Christ, inscribed 'M. Branwell,' to which refer- ence has already been made. See p. 56, note. II. Scott's Tales of a Grandfather, 1828, 3 vols., and inscribed in Miss Branwell's handwriting — ' These volumes were written by Sir Walter Scott, and the Hugh Little John mentioned in them is Master Lockhart, grandson to Sir Walter. ' A New Tear's Gift by Miss. E. B. to her dear little nep7tew and nieces Patrick, Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Bronte, 1828.' III. Goldsmith's Essays and Poems, 1824, 1 vol., inscribed— ' French Prize, adjudged to Miss Bronte, and presented with the Miss Wooler's kind love.' IV. T/ie Book of Common Prayer, 1823, inscribed — ' Miss Outhwaite to her goddaughter Anne Bronte, Feb. 13, 1827.' 1833 'ELLEN'S' VISIT AT THE PARSONAGE 129 Commonplace as this extract may seem, it is noteworthy on two or three accounts : in the first place, instead of discussing the plot or story, she analyses the character of Varney; and next, she, knowing nothing of the world, both from her youth and her isolated position, has yet been so ac- customed to hear ' human nature ' distrusted as to receive the notion of intense and artful villainy without surprise. What was formal and set in her way of writing to ' El- len ' diminished as their personal acquaintance increased, and as each came to know the home of the other ; so that small details concerning people and places had their interest and their significance. In the summer of 1833 she wrote to invite her friend to come and pay her a visit. ' Aunt thought it would be better,' she says, 'to defer it until about the middle of summer, as the winter, and even the spring sea- sons, are remarkably cold and bleak among our mountains.' The first impression made on the visitor by the sisters of her school friend was, that Emily was a tall, long-armed girl, more fully grown than her elder sister ; extremely reserved in manner. I distinguish reserve from shyness, because I imagine shyness would please, if it knew how ; whereas reserve is indifferent whether it pleases or not. Anne, like her eldest sister, was shy ; Emily was reserved. Branwell was rather a handsome boy, with ' tawny ' hair, to use Miss Bronte's phrase for a more obnoxious colour. All were very clever, original, and utterly different from any people or family ' Ellen ' had ever seen bef oi'e. But, on the whole, it was a happy visit to all parties. Charlotte says, in writing to 'Ellen' just after her return home, ' Were I to tell you of the impression you have made on every one here, you would accuse me of flattery. Papa and aunt are continually adducing you as an example for me to shape my actions and behaviour by. Emily and Anne say "they never saw any one they liked so well as you." And Tabby, whom you have absolutely fascinated, talks a great deal more nonsense about your ladyship than I care to repeat. It is now so dark that, notwithstanding 9 130 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE the singular property of seeing in the night-time, which the young ladies at Roe Head used to attribute to me, I can scribble no longer.' To a visitor at the parsonage it was a great thing to have Tabby's good word. She had a Yorkshire keenness of per- ception into character, and it was not everybody she liked. Haworth is built with an utter disregard of all sanitary conditions : the great old churchyard lies above all the houses, and it is terrible to think how the very water- springs of the pumps below must be poisoned. But this winter of 1833-4 was particularly wet and rainy, and there were an unusual number of deaths in the village. A dreary season it was to the family in the parsonage : their usual walks obstructed by the spongy state of the moors — the passing and funeral bells so frequently tolling, and filling the heavy air with their mournful sound — and, when they were still, the ' chip, chip ' of the mason, as he cut the grave-stones in a shed close by. In many, living, as it were, in a churchyard, and with all the sights and sounds con- nected with the last offices to the dead things of everyday occurrence, the very familiarity would have bred indiffer- ence. But it was otherwise with Charlotte Bronte. One of her friends says, ' I have seen her turn pale and feel faint- when, in Hartshead church, some one accidentally remarked that we were walking over graves. Charlotte was certainly afraid of death. Not only of dead bodies, or dying people. She dreaded it as something horrible. She thought we did not know how long the "moment of dissolution" might really be, or how terrible. This was just such a terror as only hypochondriacs can provide for themselves. She told me long ago that a misfortune was often preceded by the dream frequently repeated which she gives to "Jane Eyre," of carrying a little wailing child, and being unable to still it. She described herself as having the most painful sense of pity for the little thing, lying inert, as sick children do, while she walked about in some gloomy place with it, such as the aisle of Haworth church. The misfortunes she men- 1834 ON A VISIT TO LONDON 131 tioned were not always to herself. She thought such sensi- tiveness to omens was like the cholera, present to susceptible people — some feeling more, some less.' About the beginning of 1834 ' Ellen ' went to London for the first time. The idea of her friend's visit seems to have stirred Charlotte strangely. She appears to have formed her notions of its probable consequences from some of the papers in the ' British Essayists/ the ' Kambler,' the ' Mir- ror,' or the ' Lounger,' which may have been among the English classics on the parsonage book-shelves ; for she evi- dently imagines that an entire change of character for the worse is the usual effeot of a visit to ' the great metropolis,' and is delighted to find that ' Ellen ' is ' Ellen ' still. And, as her faith in her friend's stability is restored, her own imagination is deeply moved by the idea of what great won- ders are to be seen in that vast and famous city. 'Haworth: February 20, 1834. 'Your letter gave me real and heartfelt pleasure, min- gled with no small share of astonishment. Mary had pre- viously informed me of your departure for London, and I had not ventured to calculate on any communication from you while surrounded by the splendours and novelties of that great city, which has been called the mercantile metropolis of Europe. Judging from human nature, I thought that a little country girl, for the first time in a situa- tion so well calculated to excite curiosity and to distract attention, would lose all remembrance, for a time at least, of distant and familiar objects, and give herself up entirely to the fascination of those scenes which were then pre- sented to her view. Your kind, interesting, and most welcome epistle showed me, however, that I had been both mistaken and uncharitable in these suppositions. I was greatly amused at the tone of nonchalance which you assumed while treating of London and its wonders. Did you not feel awed while gazing at St. Paul's and Westmin- ster Abbey ? Had you no feeling of intense and ardent in- 132 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE terest when in St. James's yon saw the palace where so many of England's kings have held their courts, and beheld the representations of their persons on the walls ? You should not be too much afraid of appearing country-lred; the magnificence of London has drawn exclamations of astonishment from travelled men, experienced in the world, its wonders and beauties. Have you yet seen anything of the great personages whom the sitting of Parliament now detains in London — the Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel, Earl Grey, Mr. Stanley, Mr. O'Connell ? If I were you, I would not be too anxious to spend my time in read- ing whilst in town. Make use of your own eyes for the purposes of observation now, and, for a time at least, lay aside the spectacles with which authors would furnish us.' In a postscript she adds — ' Will you be kind enough to inform me of the number of performers in the King's military band ?' And in something of the same strain she writes on ' June 19. ' My own dear Ellen, — I may rightfully and truly call you so now. You have returned or are returning from London — from the great city which is to me as apocryphal as Babylon, or Nineveh, or ancient Rome. You are with- drawing from the world (as it is called), and bringing with you — if your letters enable me to form a correct judgment — a heart as unsophisticated, as natural, as true, as that you carried there. I am slow, very slow, to believe the protestations of another ; I know my own sentiments, I can read my own mind, but the minds of the rest of man and woman kind are to me sealed volumes, hieroglyphical scrolls, which I cannot easily either unseal or decipher. Yet time, careful study, long acquaintance, overcome most difficul- ties ; and, in your case, I think they have succeeded well in bringing to light and construing that hidden language, whose turnings, windings, inconsistencies, and obscurities so frequently baffle the researches of the honest observer 1834 ON A VISIT TO LONDON 133 of human nature. ... I am truly grateful for your mind- fulness of so obscure a person as myself, and I hope the pleasure is not altogether selfish ; I trust it is partly de- rived from the consciousness that my friend's character is of a higher, a more steadfast order than I was once perfectly aware of. Few girls would have done as you have done — would have beheld the glare, and glitter, and dazzling dis- play of London with dispositions so unchanged, hearts so uncontaminated. I see no affectation in your letters, no trifling, no frivolous contempt of plain and weak admira- tion of showy persons and things.' In these days of cheap railway trips, we may smile at the idea of a short visit to London having any great effect upon the character, whatever it may have upon the intel- lect. But her London — her great apocryphal city — was the ' town' of a century before, to which giddy daughters dragged unwilling papas, or went with injudicious friends, to the detriment of all their better qualities, and some- times to the ruin of their fortunes ; it was the Vanity Fair of the ' Pilgrim's Progress ' to her. But see the just and admirable sense with which she can treat a subject of which she is able to overlook all the bearings. ' Ha worth : July 4, 1834. ' In your last yon request me to tell you of your faults. Now, really, how can you be so foolish!? I won't tell you of your faults, because I don't know them. What a creat- ure would that be who, after receiving an affectionate and kind letter from a beloved friend, should sit down and write a catalogue of defects by way of answer ! Imagine me doing so, and then consider what epithets you would bestow on me. Conceited, dogmatical, hypocritical little humbug, I should think, would be the mildest. Why, child ! I've neither time nor inclination to reflect on your faults when you are so far from me, and when, besides, kind letters and presents, and so forth, are con- tinually bringing forth your goodness in the most promi- 134 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE nent light. Then, too, there are judicious relations al- ways round you, who can much better discharge that unpleasant office. I have no doubt their advice is com- pletely at your service ; why then should I intrude mine ? If you will not hear them, it will be vain though one should rise from the dead to instruct you. Let us have no more nonsense, if you love me. Mr. is going to be married, is he ? Well, his wife elect appeared to me to be a clever and amiable lady, as far as I could judge from the little I saw of her, and from your account. Now to that flattering sentence must I tack on a list of her faults ? You say it is in contemplation for you to leave Rydings. I am sorry for it. Rydings is a pleasant spot, one of the old family halls of England, surrounded by lawn and wood- land, speaking of past times, and suggesting (to me at least) happy feelings. Mary thought you grown less, did she ? I am not grown a bit, but as short and dumpy as ever. You ask me to recommend you some books for your perusal. I will do so in as few words as I can. If you like poetry, let it be first-rate ; Milton, Shakespeare, Thomson, Goldsmith, Pope (if you will, though I don't admire him), Scott, Byron, Campbell, Wordsworth, and Southey. Now don't be startled at the names of Shake- speare and Byron. Both these were great men, and their works are like themselves. You will know how to choose the good, and to avoid the evil ; the finest passages are always the purest, the bad are invariably revolting; you will never wish to read them over twice. Omit the come- dies of Shakespeare, and the "Don Juan," perhaps the " Cain " of Byron, though the latter is a magnificent poem, and read the rest fearlessly; that must indeed be a de- praved mind which can gather evil from " Henry VIII.," from "Richard III.," from "Macbeth," and "Hamlet," and "Julius Caesar." Scott's sweet, wild, romantic poetry can do you no harm. Nor can Wordsworth's, nor Camp- bell's, nor Southey's — the greatest part at least of his; some is certainly objectionable. For history, read Hume, 1884 CHOICE OF BOOKS 135 Bollin, and the "Universal History," if you can; I never did. For fiction, read Scott alone ; all novels after his are worthless. For biography, read Johnson's "Lives of the Poets," Boswell's "Life of Johnson," Southey's "Life of Nelson," Lockhart's "Life of Burns," Moore's "Life of Sheridan," Moore's "Life of Byron,'.' Wolfe's "Kemains." For natural history, read Bewick and Audubon, and Gold- smith, and "White's History of Selborne." For divinity, your brother 1 will advise you there. I can only say, ad- here to standard authors, and avoid novelty.' From this list, we see that she must have had a good range of books from which to choose her own reading. It is evident that the womanly consciences of these two cor- respondents were anxiously alive to many questions dis- cussed among the stricter religionists. The morality of Shakespeare needed the confirmation of Charlotte's opin- ion to the sensitive ' Ellen ;' and, a little later, she in- quired whether dancing was objectionable when indulged in for an hour or two in parties of boys and girls. Char- lotte replies, 'I should hesitate to express a difference of opinion from Mr. Atkinson, or from your excellent sister, but really the matter seems to me to stand thus : It is allowed on all hands that the sin of dancing consists not in the mere action of shaking the shanks ' (as the Scotch say), ( but in the consequences that usually attend it ; namely, frivolity and waste of time ; when it is used only, as in the case you state, for the exercise and amusement of an hour among young people (who surely may without any breach of G-od's commandments be allowed a little light-hearted- ness), these consequences cannot follow. Ergo (according to my manner of arguing), the amusement is at such times perfectly innocent.' Although the distance between Haworth and Birstall was but seventeen miles, it was difficult to go straight from the one to the other without hiring a gig or vehicle 1 Henry Nussey, then in training for the Church. 136 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE of some kind for the journey. Hence a visit from Char- lotte required a good deal of prearrangement. The Ha- worth gig was not always to be had ; and Mr. Bronte was often unwilling to fall into any arrangement for meeting at Bradford or other places which would occasion trouble to others. The whole family had an ample share of that sen- sitive pride which led them to dread incurring obligations, and to fear ' outstaying their welcome' when on any visit. I am not sure whether Mr. Bronte did not consider distrust of others as a part of that knowledge of human nature on which he piqued himself. His precepts to this effect, combined with Charlotte's lack of hope, made her always fearful of loving too much ; of wearying the objects of her affection ; and thus she was often trying to restrain her warm feelings, and was ever chary of that presence so in- variably welcome to her true friends. According to this mode of acting, when she was invited for a month she stayed but a fortnight amidst 'Ellen's' family, to whom every visit only endeared her the more, -and by whom she was received with o kind of quiet gladness with which they would have greeted a sister. She still kept up her childish interest in politics. In March 1835 she writes, ' What do you think of the course politics are taking ? I make this inquiry because I now think you take a wholesome interest in the matter ; for- merly you did not care greatly about it. B., 1 you see, is triumphant. Wretch ! I am a hearty hater, and if there is any one I thoroughly abhor, it is that man. But the Op- position is divided, Red-hots and Luke -warms; and the Duke (par excellence the Duke) and Sir Robert Peel show no signs of insecurity, though they have been twice beat ; so ''courage, mon amie," as the old chevaliers used to say before they joined battle.' 1 Henry, Lord Brougham (1778-1868). He was Lord Chancellor in Earl Grey's Ministry of 1830. He was not, however, contrary to ex- pectation, offered the seals in Lord Melbourne's Ministry when it took office in 1835. 1835 A GREAT FAMILY PLAN 137 In the middle of the summer of 1835 a great family plan was mooted at the parsonage. The question was, to what trade or profession should Branwell be brought up ? He was now nearly eighteen ; it was time to decide. He was very clever, no doubt ; perhaps, to begin with, the greatest genius in this rare family. The sisters hardly recognised their own or each other's powers, but they knew Ms. The father, ignorant of many failings in moral conduct, did proud homage to the great gifts of his son ; for Branwell's talents were readily and willingly brought out for the en- tertainment of others. Popular admiration was sweet to him. And this led to his presence being sought at 'arvills' and all the great village gatherings, for the Yorkshiremen have a keen relish for intellect ; and it likewise procured him the undesirable distinction of having his company rec- ommended by the landlord of the ' Black Bull ' to any chance traveller who might happen to feel solitary or dull over his liquor. ' Do you want some one to help you with your bottle, sir ? If you do I'll send for Patrick' (so the villagers called him till the day of his death, though in his own family he was always 'Branwell'). And while the messenger went the landlord entertained his guest with accounts of the wonderful talents of the boy, whose pre- cocious cleverness, and great conversational powers, were the pride of the village. The attacks of ill health to which Mr. Bronte had been subject of late years rendered it not only necessary that he should take his dinner alone (for the sake of avoiding temptations to unwholesome diet), but made it also desirable that he should pass the time directly succeeding his meals in perfect quiet. And this necessity, combined with due attention to his parochial duties, made him partially ignorant how his son employed himself out of lesson time. His own youth had been spent among people of the same conventional rank as those into whose companionship Branwell was now thrown; but he had had a strong will, and an earnest and persevering ambition, and a resoluteness of purpose which his weaker son wanted. 138 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE It is singular how strong a yearning the whole family had towards the art of drawing. Mr. Bronte had been very solicitous to get them good instruction ; the girls them- selves loved everything connected with it — all descriptions or engravings of great pictures 5 and, in default of good ones, they would take and analyse any print or drawing which came in their way, and find out how much thought had gone to its composition, what ideas it was intended to suggest, and what it did suggest. In the same spirit they laboured to design imaginations of their own ; they lacked the power of execution, not of conception. At one time Charlotte had the notion of making her living as an artist, and wearied her eyes in drawing with pre-Raphaelite mi- nuteness, but not with pre-Raphaelite accuracy, for she drew from fancy rather than from nature. But they all thought there could be no doubt about Bran- well's talent for drawing. I have seen an oil painting of his, done I know not when, but probably about this time. It was a group of his sisters, life size, three-quarters length ; not much better than sign-painting, as to manipulation ; but the likenesses were, I should think, admirable. I could only judge of the fidelity with which the other two were depicted from the striking resemblance which Charlotte, upholding the great frame of canvas, and consequently standing right behind it, bore to her own representation, though it must have been ten years and more since the portraits were taken. The picture was divided, almost in the middle, by a great pillar. On the side of the column which was lighted by the sun stood Charlotte in the womanly dress of that day of gigot sleeves and large collars. On the deeply shadowed side was Emily, with Anne's gentle face resting on her shoulder. Emily's countenance struck me as full of power ; Charlotte's of solicitude ; Anne's of tenderness. The two younger seemed hardly to have attained their full growth, though Emily was taller than Charlotte ; they had cropped hair, and a more girlish dress. I remember looking on those two sad, earnest, shadowed faces, and wondering 1835 PORTRAITS OP THE SISTERS 139 whether I could trace the mysterious expression which is said to foretell an early death. I had some fond, superstitious hope that the column divided their fates from hers, who stood apart in the canvas, as in life she survived. I liked to see that the bright side of the pillar was towards her — that the light in the picture fell on her: I might more truly have sought in her presentment — nay, in her living face — for the sign of death in her prime. They were good likenesses, however badly executed. 1 From thence I should guess his family argued truly that, if Branwell had but the oppor- tunity, and, alas ! had but the moral qualities, he might turn out a great painter. The best way of preparing him to become so appeared to be to send him as a pupil to the Royal Academy. 2 I dare 1 This portrait group, which for some years stood at the top of the staircase at the Haworth parsonage, exactly facing the door of the lit- tle room that bad been the children's nursery, was removed by Mr. A. B. Nicholls to his home in Ireland when he left Haworth. He thought so poorly of the portraits of his wife and of Anne Bronte that he cut them out of the canvas and destroyed them. He retained, however, the portrait of Emily, and this he gave to Martha Brown, the Brontes' servant, on one of her several visits to him in Ireland. Martha Brown took it back with her to Haworth, but it has long since disappeared. Fortunately, however, a photograph of the family group was made from another picture by Branwell at Haworth, and this photograph has been identified by Mr. A. B. Nicholls as containing a good portrait of Emily. The volume of Wuthering Heights in this series of the Bronte novels contains a beautiful reproduction of this portrait — the only at- tempt at a presentation of Emily Bronte's appearance that we shall ever know. 2 Branwell wrote as follows to the Secretary of the Royal Academy (only this fragment of his letter remains) : — ' Sir,— Having an earnest desire to enter as probationary student in the Royal Academy, but not being possessed of information as to the means of obtaining my desire, I presume to request from you, as Sec- tary to the Institution, an answer to the questions — ' Where am I to present my drawings ? ' At what time ? and especially, ' Can I do it in August or September ?' 140 LIFE OP CHARLOTTE BRONTE say he longed and yearned to follow this path, principally because it would lead him to that mysterious London — that Babylon the great — which seems to have filled the im- aginations and haunted the minds of all the younger mem- bers of this recluse family. To Bran well it was more than a vivid imagination, it was an impressed reality. By dint of studying maps he was as well acquainted with it, even down to its byways, as if he had lived there. Poor misguided fellow ! this craving to see and know London, and that stronger craving after fame were never to be satisfied. He was to die at the end of a short and blighted life. But in this year of 1835 all his home kindred were thinking how they could best forward his views, and how help him up to the pinnacle where he desired to be. What their plans were let Charlotte explain. These are not the first sisters who have laid their lives as a sacrifice before their brother's idolised wish. Would to God they might be the last who met with such a miserable return ! 'Haworth: July 6, 1835. ' I had hoped to have had the extreme pleasure of seeing you at Haworth this summer, but human affairs are muta- ble, and human resolutions must bend to the course of events. We are all about to divide, break up, separate. Emily is going to school, Bran well is going to London, and I am going to be a governess. This last determination I formed myself, knowing that I should have to take the step some time, "and better sune as syne," to use the Scotch proverb ; and knowing well that papa would have enough to do with his limited income, should Branwell be placed at the Royal Academy, and Emily at Roe Head. Where am I going to reside ? you will ask. Within four miles of you, at a place neither of us is unacquainted with, being no other than the identical Roe Head men- tioned above. Yes ! I am going to teach in the very school where I was myself taught. Miss Wooler made me the offer, and I preferred it to one or two proposals of private governess-ship, which I had before received. I am sad— 1885 PROSPECT OF SEPARATION 141 very sad — at the thoughts of leaving home ; but duty — necessity — these are stern mistresses, who will not be dis- obeyed. Did I not once say you ought to be thankful for your independence ? I felt what I said at the time, and I repeat it now with double earnestness; if anything would cheer me, it is the idea of being so near you. Surely you and Polly ' will come and see me ; it would be wrong in me to doubt it ; you were never unkind yet. Emily and I leave home on the 27th of this month ; the idea of being together consoles us both somewhat, and, truth, since I must enter a situation, " my lines have fallen in pleasant places." I both love and respect Miss Wooler.* 1 Mary Taylor. CHAPTER VIII Ok July 29, 1835, Charlotte, now a little more than nine- teen years old, went as teacher to Miss Wooler's. Emily accompanied her as a pupil ; but she became literally ill from home-sickness, and could not settle to anything, and after passing only three months at Eoe Head returned to the parsonage and the beloved moors. Miss Bronte gives the following reasons as those which prevented Emily's remaining at school, and caused the substitution of her younger sister in her place at Miss Wooler's : — 'My sister Emily loved the moors. Flowers brighter than the rose bloomed in the bluckest of the heath for her ; out of a sullen hollow in a livid hillside her mind could make an Eden. She found in the bleak solitude many and dear delights ; and not the least and best loved was — liberty. Liberty was the breath of Emily's nostrils ; without it she perished. The change from her own home to a school, and from her own very noiseless, very secluded, but unrestricted and unartificial mode of life, to one of disciplined routine (though under the kindest auspices) was what she failed in enduring. Her nature proved here too strong for her for- titude. Every morning, when she woke, the vision of home and the moors rushed on her, and darkened and sad- dened the day that lay before her. Nobody knew what ailed her but me. I knew only too well. In this struggle her health was quickly broken : her white face, attenuated form, and failing strength threatened rapid decline. I . felt in my heart she would die if she did not go home, and with this conviction obtained her recall. She had only been three months at school ; and it was some years before 1835 FROM HOME 143 the experiment of sending her from home was again vent- ured on.' This physical suffering on Emily's part when absent from Haworth, after recurring several times under similar circumstances, became at length so much an acknowledged fact, that whichever was obliged to leave home, the sisters decided that Emily must remain there, where alone she could enjoy anything like good health. She left it twice again in her life ; once going as teacher to a school in Hali- fax for six months, and afterwards accompanying Charlotte to Brussels for ten. When at home she took the principal part of the cooking upon herself, and did all the household ironing ; and after Tabby grew old and infirm it was Emily who made all the bread for the family ; and any one pass- ing by the kitchen door might have seen her studying German out of an open book, propped up before her, as she kneaded the dough ; but no study, however interesting, interfered with the goodness of the bread, which was always light and excellent. Books were, indeed, a very common sight in that kitchen ; the girls were taught by their father theoretically, and by their aunt practically, that to take an active part in all household work was, in their position, woman's simple duty ; but in their careful employment of time they found many an odd five minutes for reading while watching the cakes, and managed the union of two kinds of employment better than King Alfred. Charlotte's life at Miss Wooler's was a very happy one, until her health failed. She sincerely loved and respected the former schoolmistress, to whom she was now become both companion and friend. The girls were hardly stran- gers to her, some of them being younger sisters of those who had been her own playmates. Though the duties of the day might be tedious and monotonous, there were al- ways two or three happy hours to look forward to in the evening, when she and Miss Wooler sat together — some- times late into the night — and had quiet, pleasant conver- sations, or pauses of silence as agreeable, because each felt 144 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE that as Boon as a thought or remark occurred which they wished to express there was an intelligent companion ready to sympathise, and yet they were not compelled to ' make talk.' Miss Wooler was always anxious to afford Miss Bronte every opportunity of recreation in her power ; but the diffi- culty often was to persuade her to avail herself of the invi- tations which came, urging her to spend Saturday and Sunday with ' Ellen ' and ' Mary ' in their respective homes, that lay within the distance of a walk. She was too apt to consider that allowing herself a holiday was a dereliction of duty, and to refuse herself the necessary change, from something of an over-ascetic spirit, betokening a loss of healthy balance in either body or mind. Indeed, it is clear that such was the case, from a passage, referring to this time, in the letter of ' Mary ' from which I have before given extracts. ' Three years after ' (the period when they were at school together) ' I heard that she had gone as teacher to Miss Wooler's. I went to see her, and asked how she could give so much for so little money, when she could live with- out it. She owned that, after clothing herself and Anne, there was nothing left, though she had hoped to be able to save something. She confessed it was not brilliant, but what could she do ? I had nothing to answer. She seemed to have no interest or pleasure beyond the feeling of duty, and, when she could get the opportunity, used to sit alone, and "make out." She told me afterwards that one evening she had sat in the dressing-room until it was quite dark, and then observing it all at once had taken sudden fright.' No doubt she remembered this well when she described a similar terror getting hold upon Jane Eyre. She says in the story, 'I sat looking at the white bed and overshadowed walls — occasionally turning a fascinated eye towards the gleaming mirror — I began to recall what I had heard of dead men troubled in their graves. ... I endeavoured to be firm ; shaking my hair from my eyes, I lifted my head 1835 DESPONDENCY 145 and tried to look boldly through the dark room.; at this moment, a ray from the moon penetrated some aperture in the Hind. No ! moonlight was still, and this stirred . . . prepared as my mind was for horror, shaken as my nerves were by agitation, I thought the swift-darting beam was a herald of some coming vision from another world. My heart beat thick, my head grew hot ; a sound filled my ears which I deemed the rustling of wings ; something seemed near me.' ' ' From that time/ Mary adds, ' her imaginations became gloomy or frightful ; she could not help it, nor help think- ing. She could not forget the gloom, could not sleep at night, nor attend in the day. ' She told me that one night, sitting alone, about this time, she heard a voice repeat these lines : 'Come, thou high and holy feeling, Shine o'er mountain, flit o'er wave, Gleam like light o'er dome and shieling. There were eight or ten more lines which I forget. She insisted that she had not made them, that she had heard a voice repeat them. It is possible that she had read them, and unconsciously recalled them. They are not in the volume of poems which the sisters published. She re- peated a verse of Isaiah, which she said had inspired them, and which I have forgotten. Whether the lines were recol- lected or invented, the tale proves such habits of sedentary, monotonous solitude of thought as would have shaken a feebler mind.' Of course the state of health thus described came on gradually, and is not to be taken as a picture of her con- dition in 1836. Yet even then there is a despondency in some of her expressions, that too sadly reminds one of some of Cowper's letters. And it is remarkable how deep- ly his poems impressed her. His words, in verses, came more frequently to her memory, I imagine, than those of any other poet. 1 Jane Eyre. 14:6 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE 'Mary' says, 'Cowper's poem, "The Castaway," was known to them all, and they all at times appreciated, or almost appropriated it. Charlotte told me once that Branwell had done so ; and though his depression was the result of his faults, it was in no other respect differ- ent from hers. Both were not mental but physical ill- nesses. She was well aware of this, and would ask how that mended matters, as the feeling was there all the same, and was not removed by knowing the cause. She had a larger religious toleration than a person would have who had never questioned, and the manner of recommending religion was always that of offering comfort, not fiercely enforcing a duty. One time I mentioned that some one had asked me what religion I was of (with the view of get- ting me for a partisan), and that I had said that that was between God and me. Emily (who was lying on the hearth- rug), exclaimed, " That's right." This was all I ever heard Emily say on religious subjects. Charlotte was free from religious depression when in tolerable health ; when that failed her depression returned. You have probably seen such instances. They don't get over their difficulties; they forget them, when their stomach (or whatever organ it is that inflicts such misery on sedentary people) will let them. I have heard her condemn Socinianism, Calvinism, and many other " isms " inconsistent with Church of Eng- landism. I used to wonder at her acquaintance with such subjects.' ' May 10, 1836. ' I was struck with the note you sent me with the um- brella; it showed a degree of interest in my concerns which I have no right to expect from any earthly creature. I won't play the hypocrite ; I won't answer your kind, gen- tle, friendly questions in the way you wish me to. Don't deceive yourself by imagining I have a bit of real goodness about me. My darling, if I were like you, I should have my face Zionward, though prejudice and error might occa- sionally fling a mist over the glorious vision before me— 1836 RELIGIOUS DEPRESSION 147 but I am not like you. If you knew my thoughts, the dreams that absorb me, and the fiery imagination that at times eats me up, and makes me feel society, as it is, wretchedly insipid, you would pity and I dare say despise me. But I know the treasures of the Bible; I love and adore them. I can see the Well of Life in all its clear- ness and brightness ; but when I stoop down to drink of the pure waters they fly from my lips as if I were Tan- talus. ' You are far too kind and frequent in your invitations. You puzzle me. I hardly know how to refuse, and it is still more embarrassing to accept. At any rate I cannot come this week, for we are in the very thickest milee of the Repetitions. I was hearing the terrible fifth section when your note arrived. But Miss Wooler says I must go to Mary next Friday, as she promised for me on Whit Sun- day; and on Sunday morning I will join you at church, if it be convenient, and stay till Monday. There's a free and easy proposal ! Miss Wooler has driven me to it. She says her character is implicated.' Good, kind Miss Wooler ! however monotonous and try- ing were the duties Charlotte had to perform under her roof, there was always a genial and thoughtful friend watching over her, and urging her to partake of any little piece of innocent recreation that might come in her way. And in those midsummer holidays of 1836 her friend ' El- len ' came to stay with her at Haworth, so there was one happy time secured. Here follows a series of letters, not dated, but belonging to the latter portion of this year ; and again we think of the gentle and melancholy Oowper. ' My dear dear Ellen, — I am at this moment trembling all over with excitement, after reading your note ; it is what I never received before — it is the unrestrained pouring out of a warm, gentle, generous heart. ... I thank you with 148 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE energy for this kindness. I will no longer shrink from an- swering yonr questions. I do wish to be better than I am. I pray fervently sometimes to be made so. I have stings of conscience, visitings of remorse, glimpses of holy, of inex- pressible things, which formerly I used to be a stranger to ; it may all die away, and I may be in utter midnight, but I implore a merciful Redeemer that, if this be the dawn of the gospel, it may still brighten to perfect day. Do not mistake me — do not think I am good ; I only wish to be so. I only hate my former flippancy and forwardness. Oh ! I am no better than ever I was. I am in that state of horrid, gloomy uncertainty that, at this moment, I would submit to be old, grey-haired, to have passed all my youthful days of enjoyment, and to be settling on the verge of the grave, if I could only thereby ensure the prospect of reconcilia- tion to God, and redemption through His Son's merits. I never was exactly careless of these matters, but I have al- ways taken a clouded and repulsive view of them; and now, if possible, the clouds are gathering darker, and a more oppressive despondency weighs on my spirits. You have cheered me, my darling ; for one moment, for an atom of time, I thought I might call you my own sister in the spirit ; but the excitement is past, and I am now as wretch- ed and hopeless as ever. This very night I will pray as you wish me. May the Almighty hear me compassionate- ly ! and I humbly hope He will, for you will strengthen my polluted petitions with your own pure requests. All is bustle and confusion round me, the ladies pressing with their sums and their lessons If you love me, do, do, do come on Friday: I shall watch and wait for you, and if you disappoint me I shall weep. I wish you could know the thrill of delight which I experienced when, as I stood at the dining-room window, I saw ,' as he whirled past, toss your little packet over the wall. 3 Huddersfield market day was still the great period for 1 'your brother George." 1836 CORRESPONDENCE WITH 'ELLEN' 149 events at Roe Head. Then girls, running round the corner of the house and peeping between tree stems, and up a shadowy lane, could catch a glimpse of a father or brother driving to market in his gig ; might, perhaps, exchange a wave of the hand ; or see, as Charlotte Bronte did from the window, a white packet tossed over the wall by some swift, strong motion of an arm, the rest of the traveller's body unseen. ' Weary with a day's hard work ... I am sitting down to write a few lines to my dear Ellen. Excuse me if I say nothing but nonsense, for my mind is exhausted and dis- pirited. It is a stormy evening, and the wind is uttering a continual moaning sound, that makes me feel very melan- choly. At such times — in such moods as these — it is my nature to seek repose in some calm, tranquil idea, and I have now summoned up your image to give me rest. There you sit, upright and still in your black dress, and white scarfs and pale, marble-like face — just like reality. I wish you would speak to me. If we should be separated — if it should be our lot to live at a great distance, and never to see each other again — in old age, how I should conjure up the memory of my youthful days, and what a melancholy pleasure I should feel in dwelling on the recollection of my early friend ! . . . I have some qualities that make me very miserable, some feelings that you can have no participation in — that few, very few people in the world can at all un- derstand. I don't pride myself on these peculiarities. I strive to conceal and suppress them as much as I can ; but they burst out sometimes, and then those who see the ex- plosion despise me, and I hate myself for days afterwards. ... I have just received your epistle and what accom- panied it. I can't tell what should induce you and your sisters to waste your kindness on such a one as me. I'm obliged to them, and I hope you'll tell them so. I'm obliged to you also, more for your note than for your present. The first gave me pleasure, the last something like pain.' 150 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE The nervous disturbance, which is stated to have troubled her while she was at Miss Wooler's, seems to have begun to distress her about this time ; at least, she herself speaks of her irritable condition, which was certainly only a tem- porary ailment. ' You have been very kind to me of late, and have spared me all those little sallies of ridicule which, owing to my miserable and wretched touchiness of character, used for- merly to make me wince, as if I had been touched with a hot iron ; things that nobody else cares for enter into my mind and rankle there like venom. I know these feelings are absurd, and therefore I try to hide them, but they only sting the deeper for concealment.' Compare this state of mind with the gentle resignation with which she had submitted to be put aside as useless, or told of her ugliness by her schoolfellows, only three years before. ' My life since I saw you has passed as monotonously and unbroken as ever; nothing but teach, teach, teach, from morning till night. The greatest variety I ever have is afforded by a letter from you, or by meeting with a pleasant new book. The " Life of Oberlin," ' and Legh Richmond's "Domestic Portraiture," " are the last of this description. The latter work strongly attracted and strangely fascinated my attention. Beg, borrow, or steal it without delay; and read the "Memoir of Wilberforce" — that short record of a brief, uneventful life ; I shall never forget it ; it is beau- tiful, not on account of the language in which it is written, not on account of the incidents it details, but because of the simple narrative it gives of a young talented, sincere Christian.' 1 The Life of Oberlin was entitled Brief Memorials of Oberlin. Sims was the name of the author, and it was published in 1830. Johann Friedrich Oberlin, an Alsatian pastor, was a pioneer of education. He was born at Strasburg in 1740, and died in 1826. 3 Legh Richmond (1772-1827) was one of the most popular authors of his day. His Dairyman's Daughter is still read. Domestic Por- traiture was published in 1833. 1836 GOVERNESS LIFE 151 About this time Miss Wooler removed her school from the fine, open, breezy situation at Eoe Head to Dewsbury Moor, only two or three miles distant. ' Her new residence was on a lower site, and the air was less exhilarating to one bred in the wild hill village of Haworth. Emily had gone as teacher to a school at Halifax, where there were nearly forty pupils. 'I have had one letter from her since her departure/ writes Charlotte on October 2, 1836 : 'it gives an appalling account of her duties ; hard labour from six in the morn- ing to eleven at night, with only one half-hour of exercise between. This is slavery. I fear she can never stand it.' a When the sisters met at home in the Christmas holi- days they talked over their lives, and the prospect which 1 It must have been after the holidays of Christmas 1836 that the removal to Dewsbury took place, as there is a memento of that date in the form of a copy of Watts on tlie Improvement of the Mind and Educa- tion of Youth (Dove's English Classics, 1826). It is inscribed in Miss Wooler's handwriting, ' Prize for good conduct. Presented to Miss A. Bronte with Miss Wooler's kind love. Roe Head, December 14, 1836.' 'Singularly little is known of Emily's stay at Miss Patchett's school, Law Hill, Southowram, near Halifax. She was a teacher there from September 1836 to March or April 1837. The house still stands, but it was larger than at present in Emily's time. Mr. Thomas Keyworth, writing in the Bookman (March 1893), informs us on the authority of a resident in the neighbourhood that : — ' It was a famous school. The Miss Patchetts kept it as far back as I can remember anything, and I was born in 1818. There were two sisters, Elizabeth and Maria. Miss Maria was very gentle, but Miss Elizabeth was stately and austere. We always understood she knew how to keep things in order. Miss Maria got married, and went to live at Dewsbury. I think that would be previous to 1836. Then Miss Elizabeth kept on the school for a few years, but not for long. She married Parson Hope, the vicar of St. Anne's, at Southowram, and the school was given up.' ( Mr. Keyworth contends that Law Hill was the original Wuthering Heights of Emily's novel. It is clear, however, that Ponden House, near Haworth, did duty for at least the interior of Wuthering Heights, and that Oldfield, in the same district, was Thrushcross Grange. 152 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE they afforded of employment and remuneration. They felt that it was a duty to relieve their father of the burden of their support, if not entirely of that of all three, at least that of one or two ; and, naturally, the lot devolved upon the elder ones to find some occupation which would enable them to do this. They knew that they were never likely to inherit much money. Mr. Bronte had but a small stipend, and was both charitable and liberal. Their aunt had an annuity of 50?., but it reverted to other^ at her death, and her nieces had no right, and were the last persons in the world to reckon upon her savings. What could they do ? Charlotte and Emily were trying teaching, and, as it seemed, without much success. The former, it is true, had the happiness of having a friend for her em- ployer, and of being surrounded by those who knew her and loved her ; but her salary was too small for her to save out of it ; and her education did not entitle her to a larger. The sedentary and monotonous nature of the life, too, was preying upon her health and spirits, although, with necessity ' as her mistress/ she might hardly like to acknowledge this even to herself. But Emily — that free, wild, untameable spirit, never happy nor well but on the sweeping moors that gathered round her home — that hater of strangers, doomed to live amongst them, and not mere- ly to live but to slave in their service — what Charlotte could have borne patiently for herself she could not bear for her sister. And yet what to do ? She had once hoped that she herself might become an artist, and so earn her livelihood ; but her eyes had failed her in the minute and useless labour which she had imposed upon herself with a view to this end. It was the household custom among these girls to sew till nine o'clock at night. At that hour Miss Branwell generally went, to bed, and her nieces' duties for the day were accounted done. They put away their work, and be- gan to pace the room backwards and forwards, up and down — as often with the candles extinguished, for econ- 1836 LETTER TO SOUTHEY 153 omy's sake, as not, — their figures glancing into the fire- light, and out into the shadow, perpetually. At this time they talked over past cares aud troubles ; they planned for the future, and consulted each other as to their plans. In after years this was the time for discussing together the plots of their novels. And again, still later, this was the time for the last surviving sister to walk alone, from old accustomed habit, round and round the desolate room, think- ing sadly upon the 'days that were no more.' But this Christmas of 1836 was not without its hopes and daring aspirations. They had tried their hands at story-writing, in their miniature magazine, long ago ; they all of them ' made out ' perpetually. They had likewise attempted to write poetry, and had a modest confidence that they had achieved a tolerable success. But they knew that they might deceive themselves, and that sisters' judgments of each other's productions were likely to be too partial to be depended upon. So Charlotte, as the eldest, resolved to write to Southey. I believe (from an expression in a letter to be noticed hereafter) that she also consulted Coleridge ; but I have not met with any part of that correspondence. On December 29 her letter to Southey was despatched, and, from an excitement not unnatural in a girl who has worked herself up to the pitch of writing to a Poet Laureate and asking his opinion of her poems, she used some high- flown expressions, which, probably, gave him the idea that she was a romantic young lady, unacquainted with the realities of life. This, most likely, was the first of those adventurous letters that passed through the little post-office of Haworth. Morn- ing after morning of the holidays slipped away, and there was no answer ; the sisters had to leave home, and Emily to return to her distasteful duties, without knowing even whether' Charlotte's letter had ever reached its destination. Not dispirited, however, by the delay, Branwell deter- mined to try a similar venture, and addressed the following letter to Wordsworth. It was given by the poet to Mr. 154 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Quillinan 1 in 1850, after the name of Bronte had becpm known and famous. I have no means of ascertaining whs answer was returned by Mr. Wordsworth ; but that he coi sidered the letter remarkable may, I think, be inferre both from its preservation and its recurrence to his memor when the real name of Ourrer Bell was made known to th public. 2 ' Haworth, near Bradford, Yorkshire : January 19, 1837. ' Sir, — I most earnestly entreat you to read and pass you judgment upon what I have sent you, because from th day of my birth to this the nineteenth year of my life have lived among secluded hills, where I could neithe know what I was or what I could do. I read for the sam reason that I ate or drank, because it was a real craving o nature. I wrote on the same principle as I spoke — out o the impulse and feelings of the mind ; nor could I help it for what came, came out, and there was the end of it. Fo as to self-conceit, that could not receive food from flattery since to this hour not half a dozen people in the world knov that I have ever penned a line. ' But a change has taken place now, sir ; and I am ar rived at an age wherein I must do something for myself the powers I possess must be exercised to a definite end. and as I don't know them myself I must ask others whal they are worth. Yet there is not one here to tell me ; and 1 Edward Quillinan (1791-1851) came of an Irish family, but was born at Oporto. Entered the British army as cornet of a cavalry regi- ment. Wrote a satirical pamphlet in verse entitled The Ball Boom Votaries, and in 1814 Dunluce Castle, and Stanzas by the Author of ' Dunluce Castle.' The Retort Courteous appeared in 1821, and a three- volume novel, The Conspirators, in the same year. Quillinan contrib- uted to Blackwood and the Quarterly. He is remembered now mainly by his marriage with Dorothy Wordsworth, the daughter of the poet. She was married to Quillinan in 1841, and died at Rydal Mount in 1847. 2 Somewhat earlier Branwell had begun to write appealing letters to the editor of Blackwood's Magazine, one bearing date January 9, 1837. Three of his letters are printed in Mrs. Oliphant's William Black- wood and his Sons. 1837 LETTER TO WORDSWORTH 155 still, if they are worthless, time will henceforth be too pre- cious to be wasted on them. 'Do pardon me, sir, that I have ventured to come before one whose works I have most loved in our literature, and who most has been with me a divinity of the mind, laying before him one of my writings, and asking of him a judg- ment of its contents. I must come before some one from whose sentence there is no appeal ; and such a one is he who has developed the theory of poetry as well as its prac- tice, and both in such a way as to claim a place in the mem- ory of a thousand years to come. ' My aim, sir, is to push out into the open world, and for this I trust not poetry alone ; that might launch the vessel, but could not bear her on. Sensible and scientific prose, bold and vigorous efforts in my walk in life, would give a further title to the notice of the world ; and then again poetry ought to brighten and crown that name with glory. But nothing of all this can be ever begun without means, and as I don't possess these I must in every shape strive to gain them. Surely, in this day, when there is not a writing poet worth a sixpence, the field must be open, if a better man can step forward. ' What I send you is the Prefatory Scene of a much longer subject, in which I have striven to develop strong passions and weak principles struggling with a high imagination and acute feelings, till, as youth hardens towards age, evil deeds and short enjoyments end in mental misery and bodily ruin. Now, to send you the whole of this would be a mock upon your patience ; what you see does not even pretend to be more than the description of an imaginative child. But read it, sir ; and, as you would hold a light to one in utter darkness — as you value your own kind-heartedness — return me an answer, if but one word, telling me whether I should write on, or write no more. Forgive undue warmth, be- cause my feelings in this matter cannot be cool ; and be- lieve me, sir, with deep respect, your really humble servant, nis porains, ont pass6 la leur, a table, a la chasse, dans 238 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE son lit, sans s'inquieter de Saladin, on de ses Sarra- sins ? N'est-ce pas parce qu'il y a, dans certaines natures, une ardeur [un foyer d'activite] indompt- voasavez a ^i e q U i ne i eur permet pas de rester inactives, qui iiparierde les force d se remuer afin d'exercer lesfacultes puis- pierre : santes, qui mSme en dormant sont prStes, comme entree dans Samson, d briser les nceuds qui les retiennent? ie sujet ; < Pierre prit la profession des armes ; si son ar- t>ut. deur avait ele de cette espece [s'il n'avait eu que cette ardeur vulgaire] qui provient d'une robuste sant6, il aurait [c'eut] et6 un brave militaire, et rien de plus ; mais son ardeur 6tait celle de Fame, sa flamme etait pure et elle s'elevait vers le ciel. 'Sans doute [II est vrai que] la jeunesse de Pierre etait [f ut] trouble par passions orageuses ; les natures puissantes sont ext^rmes en tout, elles ne connaissent la tiedeur ni dans le bien, ni dans le mal ; Pierre done chercha d'abord avidement la gloire qui se fletrit et les plaisirs qui trompent, mais ilfit bientdt la decouverte [bientot il s'apercut] que ce qu'il poursuivait n'6tait qu'une illusion inutile, ^ laquelle il ne pourrait jamais atteindre; il re- quand vous & : rk = — - avezdit tourna done sur ses pas, il recommence le voyage illusion. ^ e \ & v j ej ma j s cette fois il evita le chemin spacieux qui mene a la perdition et il prit le chemin etroit qui mene a la vie ; puisque [comme] le trajet etait long et difficile il jeta la casque et les armes du soldat, et se vetit de Fhabit simple du moine. A la vie militaire succeda la vie monastique, car les extremes se touchent, et chez I'homme sincbre la sincerite du repentir amene [necessairement a la suite] avec lui la rigueur de la penitence. [Voila done Pierre devenu moine !] 'Mais Pierre [il] avait en lui un principe qui Fempechait de rester longtemps inactif, ses idees, sur quel sujet qu'il soit [que ce fut], ne pouvaient pas etre bornees ; il ne lui suffisait pas que lui- 1843 AN EXEECISE IN FRENCH COMPOSITION 239 m£me flit religienx, que lui-meme fut convaincu de la realite de Christianisme (sic), il fallait que toute l'Europe, que toute l'Asie, partageat sa conviction et professat la croyance de la Croix. La Piete [fervente] elevee par le G6nie, nourrte par la Solitude,^ naitre une espece d' inspiration [exalta son ame jusqu'a l'inspiration] dans son dme, et lorsqu'il quitta sa cellule et reparutdans le monde, il portait, comme Moise, l'empreinte de la Divinite sur son front, et tout [tous] reconnurent en lui le veritable ap6tre de la Croix. 'Mahomet n'avait jamais remue les molles nations de l'Orient comme alors Pierre remua les peuples austeres de l'Occideut ; il fallait que cette eloquence fut d'une force presque miraculeuse qui pouvait [puisqu'elle] persuader [ait] aux rois de vendreleurs royaumes afinde procurer [pour avoir] des armes et des sold&ts pour aider [a offrir] a Pierre dans la guerre sainte qu'il voulait livrer aux infldeles. La puissance de Pierre [l'Hermite] n'etait nullement une puissance physique, car la nature, ou pour mieux dire, Dieu est impartial dans la distribu- tion de ses dons ; il accorde a l'un de ses enfauts la grace, la beaute, les perfections corporelles, a l'autre Tespritj la grandeur morale. Pierre done etait un homme petit, d'une physionomie peu agreable ; mais il avait ce courage, cette Constance, cet enthousiasme, cette energie de sentiment qui ecrase toute opposition, et qui fait que la volonte d'un seul homme deviennela loi de toute une nation. Pour se former une juste idee de l'influence qu'ex- erca cet homme sur les caracteres [choses] et les idees de son temps, il faut se le representer au milieu de l'armee des croises dans son double rdle de prophete et de guerrier ; le pauvre hermite, v6tu du pauvre [de l'humble] habit gris, est la plus puissant qu'unroi ; il est entoure d'une [de la] 240 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE multitude [avide] , nne multitude qui ne voit que lui, tandis que lui, il ne voit que le ciel ; ses yeux leves semblent dire: "Je vois Dieu etles anges, et j'ai perdu de vue la terre !" ' Bans ce moment le [Mais ce] pauvre habit [froc] gris est pour lui comme le manteau d'Elijah ; il Fen- veloppe d'inspiration ; il [Pierre] lit dans l'avenir ; il voit Jerusalem delivree ; [il voit] le saint sepulcre libre; il voit le Croissant argent est arrache du Temple, et l'Oriflamme et la Croix rouge sont etablies a sa place ; non seulement Pierre voit ces merveilles, mais il les fait voir a tous ceux qui l'entourent ; il ravive l'esperance et le courage dans [tous ces corps epuises de fatigues et de privations]. La bataille ne sera livree que demain, mais la victoire est decidee ce soir. Pierre a promis ; et les Croises se Sent a sa parole, comme les Israelites se fiaient a celle de Moise et de Josue.' ' » The original manuscript of this devoir is still extant. It fills seven pages of very neat writing. There are also a number of Miss BroDte's French exercise books with M. Heger's corrections, one a ' Lettre d'un Pauvre Peintre a un Grand Seigneur,' another an essay on 'William Wallace.' The most curious, perhaps, is a letter in simple German, •written obviously for practice during her second sojourn in Brussels. It is clear that Charlotte Bronte was not an enthusiast for the German language and literature after the manner of so many of her contempo- raries. There are no indications that she read any German books in the later years when selection was more practicable. Emily, on the other hand, must have become a good German scholar, and undoubt- edly read much of Hoffmann and other weird German writers. The reference in the letter to residence with ' a lady who is very good to me ' is interesting by the light of Charlotte Bronte's subsequent judg- ment of Madame Heger : — ' Bruxel, 5 Juin. 'Meine liebe Freundinn, — Du hast ohne Zweifel gehOrt dasz ich nacb. Belgium wieder gekehrt bin. Es machte mir Schmerz mein Vaterland zu verlassen, aber, wie du wohl weiszt, wenn man nicht reich iszt, kann man nicht immer zu Haus bleiben, man musz in die Welt gehen und trachten mit Arbeitsamkeit und Erwerbsamkeit zu verdienen diese Unabhangigkeit, die das Gliick ausgeschlagen hat. 1843 EMILY'S FRENCH EXERCISE 241 As a companion portrait to this Emily chose to depict Harold on the eve of the battle of Hastings. It appears to me that her devoir is superior to Charlotte's in power and in imagination, and fully equal to it in language ; and that this, in both cases, considering how little practical knowledge of French they had when they arrived at Brussels in Feb- ruary, and that they wrote without the aid of dictionary or grammar, is unusual and remarkable. We shall see the progress Charlotte had made, in ease and grace of style, a year later. In the choice of subjects left to her selection she fre- quently took characters and scenes from the Old Testa- ment, with which all her writings show that she was espe- cially familiar. The picturesqueness and colour (if I may so express it), the grandeur and breadtli of its narrations, impressed her deeply. To use M. Heger's expression, ' elle 6tait nourrie de la Bible.' After he had read De la Vigne's poem on Joan of Arc, she chose the ' Vision and Death of Moses on Mount Nebo' to write about; and, in looking over this devoir, I was much struck with one or two of M. Heger's remarks. After describing, in a quiet and simple manner, the circumstances under which Moses took leave of the Israelites, her imagination becomes warmed, and Oftmals, wenn man von seinen Aeltern entfernt iszt, hat man viel Kummer und Leiden, weil man nicht die selbe Gunst und das selbe Vergnligen unter Fremden finden kann, wie in der einzigen Faniilie ; allein ich habe das grosze GUiick, bei einer Dame die mir sehr gut iszt, zu wohnen. 'Sonntag und Montag waren zwei Tage Ferien. An Sonntag bin ich spazieren gewe8en, mit Fraulein Hauze und drei der Schiilerin- nen ; wir haben auf dem Lande gespeiszt, und des Abends sind wir durch die grilne Allee nach Haus gegangen. Da sahen wir viele ¥a- gen und eine Menge Herren und Damen, sehr geputz. Montag bin ich nicht ausgegangen, denn ich, hatte den Schnupfen bekommen. Heute iszt es wieder Classe, und, weil wir alle unsere Beschaftigungen anfangen mussen, so habe ich nicht viel Zeit dir zu schreibcn. ' Ich bin deine Freundinn, 'C Bronte.' 242 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE she launches out into a noble strain, depicting the glorious futurity of the Chosen People, as, looking down upon the Promised Land, he sees their prosperity in prophetic Tision. But, before reaching the middle of this glowing descrip- tion, she interrupts herself to discuss for a moment the doubts that have been thrown on the miraculous relations of the Old Testament. M. Heger remarks, ' When you are writ- ing, place your argument first in cool, prosaic language ; but when you have thrown the reins on the neck of your imagination, do not pull her up to reason.' Again, in the vision of Moses, he sees the maidens leading forth their flocks to the wells at eventide, and they are described as wearing flowery garlands. Here the writer is reminded of the necessity of preserving a certain verisimilitude: Moses might from his elevation see mountains and plains, groups of maidens and herds of cattle, but could hardly perceive the details of dress, or the ornaments of the head. When they had made further progress M. Heger took up a more advanced plan, that of synthetical teaching. He would read to them various accounts of the same person or event, and make them notice the points of agreement and disagreement. Where they were different, he would make them seek the origin of that difference by causing them to examine well into the character and position of each sepa- rate writer, and how they would be likely to affect his con- ception of truth. For instance, take Cromwell. He would read Bossuet's description of him in the ' Oraison Funebre de la Reine d'Angleterre,' and show how in this he was con- sidered entirely from the religious point of view, as an in- strument in the hands of God, pre-ordained to His work. Then he would make them r6ad Guizot, and see how, in this view, Cromwell was endowed with the utmost power of free-will, but governed by no higher motive than that of expediency, while Carlyle regarded him as a character regu- lated by a strong and conscientious desire to do the will of the Lord. Then he would desire them to remember that the Royalist and Commonwealth men had each their differ- 1843 M. HEGER'S PLA.N OF INSTRUCTION 243 ent opinions of the great Protector. And from these con- flicting characters he would require them to sift and collect the elements of truth, and try to unite them into a perfect whole. This kind of exercise delighted Charlotte. It called into play her powers of analysis, which were extraordinary, and she very soon excelled in it. Wherever the Brontes could be national they were so, with the same tenacity of attachment which' made them suffer as they did whenever they left Haworth. They were Protestant to the backbone in other things beside their religion, but pre-eminently so in that. Touched as Char- lotte was by the letter of St. Ignatius before alluded to, she claimed equal self-devotion, and from as high a motive, for some of the missionaries of the English Church sent out to toil and to perish on the poisonous African coast, and wrote as an 'imitation' 'Lettre d'un Missionnaire, Sierra-Leone, Afrique.' Something of her feeling, too, appears in the following letter : 'Brussels: 1843. 'I consider it doubtful whether I shall come home in September or not. Madame Heger has made a proposal for both me and Emily to stay another half-year, offering to dismiss her English master, and take me as English teacher; also to employ Emily some part of each day in teaching music to a certain number of the pupils. For these services we are to be allowed to continue our studies in French and German, and to have board, &c, without paying for it; no salaries, however> are offered. The proposal is kind, and in a great selfish city like Brussels, and a great selfish school, containing nearly ninety pupils (boarders and day pupils included), implies a degree of interest which de- mands gratitude in return. I am inclined to accept it. What think you ? I don't deny I sometimes wish to be in England, or that I have brief attacks of home-sickness; but, on the whole, I have borne a very valiant heart so far ; and 244 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE I have been happy in Brussels, because I have always been fully occupied with the employments that I like. Emily is making rapid progress in French, German, music, and drawing. Monsieur and Madame Heger begin to recognise the valuable parts of her character, under her singularities. ' If the national character of the Belgians is to be measured by the character of most of the girls in this school, it is a character singularly cold, selfish, animal, and inferior. They are very mutinous and difficult for the teachers to manage ; and their principles are rotten to the core. We avoid them, which is not difficult to do, as we have the brand of Protestantism and Anglicism upon us. People talk of the danger which Protestants expose themselves to in going to reside in Catholic countries, and thereby run- ning the chance of changing their faith. My advice to all Protestants who are tempted to do anything so besotted as to turn Catholics is, to walk over the sea on to the Conti- nent ; to attend Mass sedulously for a time ; to note well the mummeries thereof ; also the idiotic, mercenary aspect of all the priests ; and then, if they are still disposed to con- sider Papistry in any other light than a most feeble, childish piece of humbug, let them turn Papists at once — that's all. I consider Methodism, Quakerism, and the extremes of High and Low Churchism foolish, but Roman Catholicism beats them all. At the same time, allow me to tell you that there are some Catholics who are as good as any Christians can be to whom the Bible is a sealed book, and much bet- ter than many Protestants.' ' When the Brontes first went to Brussels, it was with the intention of remaining there for six months, or until the grandes vacances began in September. The duties of the school were then suspended for six weeks or two months, and it seemed a desirable period for their return. But the proposal mentioned in the foregoing letter altered their I 1 This letter was written to Ellen Nussey. 1843 HER ENGLISH FRIENDS AT BRUSSELS 245 plans. Besides, they were happy in the feeling that they were making progress in all the knowledge they had so long been yearning to acquire. They were happy, too, in possessing friends whose society had been for years con- genial to them ; and in occasional meetings with these they could have the inexpressible solace to residents in a foreign country — and peculiarly such to the Brontes — of taking over the intelligence received from their respec- tive homes — referring to past, or planning for future days. 'Mary' and her sister, the bright, dancing, laughing Mar- tha, were parlour boarders in an establishment just be- yond the barriers of Brussels. Again, the cousins of these friends were resident in the town ; and at their house Charlotte and Emily were always welcome, though their overpowering shyness prevented their more valuable quali- ties from being known, and generally kept them silent. They spent their weekly holiday with this family ' for many months ; but at the end of the time Emily was as im- penetrable to friendly advances as at the begining ; while Charlotte was too physically weak (as ' Mary ' has expressed it) to 'gather up her forces' sufficiently to express any difference or opposition of opinion, and had consequently an asserting and deferential manner, strangely at variance with what they knew of her remarkable talents and decided character. At this house the Taylors and the Brontes could look forward to meeting each other pretty frequent- ly. There was another English family where Charlotte soon became a welcome guest, and where, I suspect, she felt herself more at her ease than either at Mrs. Jenkins's or the friends whom I have first mentioned. An English physician, with a large family of daughters, went to reside at Brussels, for the sake of their education. He placed them at Madame Heger's school in July 1842, not a month before the beginning of the grandes vacances 1 The Dixons. Miss Mary Dixon, a sister of the late Mr. George Dixon, M.P. for Birmingham, is still alive. She is frequently men- tioned in Charlotte Bronte's letters. 246 LIFE OP CHARLOTTE BRONTE on August 15. In order to make the most of their time, and become accustomed to the language, these English sis- ters went daily, through the holidays, to the pensionnat in the Rue d'Isabelle. Six or eight boarders remained, be- sides the Miss Brontes. They were there during the whole time, never even having the break to their monotonous life which passing an occasional day with a friend would have afforded them, but devoting themselves with indefatigable diligence to the different studies in which they were en- gaged. Their position in the school appeared, to these newcomers, analogous to what is often called that of a par- lour boarder. They prepared their French, drawing, Ger- man, and literature for their various masters ; and to these occupations Emily added that of music, in which she was somewhat of a proficient, so much so as to be qualified to give instruction in it to the three younger sisters of my informant. The school was divided into three classes. In the first were from fifteen to twenty pupils ; in the second sixty was about the average number, all foreigners, excepting the two Brontes and one other ;' in the third there were from twenty 1 This was not quite the case. Miss BronlB had five Miss Wheel, wrights as companions at the Heger pensionnat, aud a Miss Maria Miller, who was probably the prototype of Ginevra Fanshawe in Villette. Dr. Wheelwright and his family lived at the HStel Clusyenaar, in the Rue Royale. His daughter Lsetitia became a firm friend of Charlotte Bronte, and her younger sisters received instructions in music from Emily. Miss Lsetitia Wheelwright and three of her sisters are still living. Their names are Lsetitia, Elizabeth, Emily, Frances, and Sarah Anne. Another sister, Julia, died in Brussels during these school days. The Wheelwrights were Mrs. Gaskell's only guides to Charlotte Bronte's school-life in Brussels, apart from M. Heger. Mrs. Gaskell obtained much of the information contained in her record from Lsetitia Wheel- wright, to whom she wrote several letters of inquiry, the latest bear- ing date February 7, 1857, and being written from Plymouth Grove, Manchester. This letter, which is in my possession, is interesting bibliographically. 'I have to-day finished my Life of Miss Bronte,' she writes, 'and next week we set out for Rome.' She thanks Miss Wheelwright, while returning her the letters lent, ' not merely for the 1843 ARRANGEMENTS OF THE 'PENSIONNAT' 247 to thirty pupils. The first and second classes occupied a long room, divided by a wooden partition ; in each division were four long ranges of desks ; and at the end was the estrade, or platform, for the presiding instructor. On the last row, in the quietest corner, sat Charlotte and Emily, side by side, so deeply absorbed in their studies as to be insensible to any noise or movement around them. The school hours were from nine to twelve (the luncheon hour), when the boarders and half-boarders — perhaps two-and- thirty girls — went to the refectoire (a room with two long tables, having an oil lamp suspended over each), to partake of bread and fruit ; the externes, or morning pupils, who had brought their own refreshment with them, adjourning to eat it in the garden. From one to two there was fancy work — a pupil reading aloud some light literature in each room ; from two to four, lessons again. At four the ex- ternes left ; and the remaining girls dined in the refectoire, M. and Madame Heger presiding. Prom five to six there was recreation ; from six to seven, preparation for lessons -, and after that succeeded the lecture pieuse — Charlotte's nightmare. On rare occasions M. Heger himself would come in, and substitute a book of a different and more in- teresting kind. At eight there was a slight meal of water and pistolets (the delicious little Brussels rolls), which was immediately followed by prayers, and then to bed. The principal bedroom was over the long classe, or school- room. There were six or eight narrow beds on each side of the apartment, every one enveloped in its white draping curtain ; a long drawer, beneath each, served for a ward- robe, and, between each was a stand for ewer, basin, and looking-glass. The beds of the two Miss Brontes were at the extreme end of the room, almost as private and retired as if they had been in a separate apartment. During the hours of recreation, which were always spent loan of them, although their value has been great, but for the kind readiness with which you all (especially you and your mother) met my wishes about giving me information.' 248 LIFE OP CHARLOTTE BRONTE in the garden, they invariably walked together, and gener- ally kept a profound silence ; Emily, though so much the taller, leaning on her sister. Charlotte would always an- swer when spoken to, taking the lead in replying to any re- mark addressed to both ; Emily rarely spoke to any one. Charlotte's quiet, gentle manner never changed. She was never seen out of temper for a moment ; and occasionally, when she herself had assumed the post of English teacher, and the impertinence or inattention of her pupils was most irritating, a slight increase of colour, a momentary sparkling of the eye, and more decided energy of manner, were the only outward tokens she gave of being conscious of the annoyance to which she was subjected. But this dignified endurance of hers subdued her pupils, in the long run, far more than the voluble tirades of the other mistresses. My informant adds, ' The effect of this man- ner was singular. I can speak from personal experience. I was at that time high-spirited and impetuous, not re- specting the French mistresses ; yet, to my own astonish- ment, at one word from her I was perfectly tractable ; so much so that, at length, M. and Madame Heger invariably preferred all their wishes to me through her; the other pupils did not, perhaps, love her as I did, she was so quiet and silent ; but all respected her.' With the exception of that part which describes Char- lotte's manner as English teacher — an office which she did not assume for some months later — all this description of the school life of the two Brontes refers to the commence- ment of the new scholastic year in October 1842 ; and the extracts I have given convey the first impression which the life at a foreign school, and the position of the two Miss Brontes therein, made upon an intelligenb English girl of sixteen. I will make a quotation from 'Mary's' letter re- ferring to this time. 'The first part of her time at Brussels was not uninter- esting. She spoke of new people and characters, and for- eign ways of the pupils and teachers. She knew the hopes H K R a C H ft ►d H B oi O a 2 > ft a IS 1842 EXTRACT FROM 'MARY'S' LETTER 249 and prospects of the teachers, and mentioned one who was very anxious to marry, "she was getting so old." She used to get her father qr brother (I forget which) to be the bearer of letters to different single men, who she thought might be persuaded to do her the favour, saying that her only resource was to become a sister of charity if her present employment failed, and that she hated the idea. Charlotte naturally looked with curiosity to people of her own condition. This woman almost frightened her. " She declares there is nothing she can turn to, and laughs at the idea of delicacy — and she is only ten years older than I am !" I did not see the connection till she said, "Well, Polly, I should hate being a sister of charity ; I suppose that would shock some people, but I should." I thought she would have as much feeling as a nurse as most people, and more than some. She said she did not know how peo- ple could bear the constant pressure of misery, and never to change except to a new form of it. It would be impos- sible to keep one's natural feelings. I promised her a bet- ter destiny than to go begging any one to marry her, or to lose her natural feelings as a sister of charity. She said, "My youth is leaving me; I can never do better than I have done, and I have done nothing yet." At such times she seemed to think that most human beings were destined by the pressure of worldly interests to lose one faculty and feeling after another "till they went dead altogether. I hope I shall be put in my grave as soon as I'm dead ; I don't want to walk about so." Here we always differed. I thought the degradation of nature she feared was a con- sequence of poverty, and that she should give her attention to earning money. Sometimes she admitted this, but could find no means of earning money. At others she seemed afraid of letting her thoughts dwell on the subject, saying it brought on the worst palsy of all. Indeed, in her posi- tion, nothing less than entire constant absorption in petty money matters could have scraped together a provision. ' Of course artists and authors stood high with Charlotte, 250 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE and the best thing after their works would have been their company. She used very inconsistently to rail at money and money-getting, and then wish she was able to visit all the large towns in Europe, see all the sights, and know all the celebrities. This was her notion of literary fame — a passport to the society of clever people. . . . When she had become acquainted with the people and ways at Brus- sels her life became monotonous, and she fell into the same hopeless state as at Miss Wooler's, though in a less degree. I wrote to her, urging her to go home or elsewhere ; she had got what she wanted (French), and there was at least novelty in a new place, if no improvement. That if she sank into deeper gloom she would soon not have energy to go, and she was too far from home for her friends to hear of her condition and order her home as they had done from Miss Wooler's. She wrote that I had done her a great ser- vice, that she would certainly follow my advice, and was much obliged to me. I have often wondered at this letter. Though she patiently tolerated advice she could always quietly put it aside, and do as she thought fit. More than once afterwards she mentioned the "service" I had done her. She sent me 10?. to New Zealand, on hearing some exaggerated accounts of my circumstances, and told me she hoped it would come in seasonably ; it was a debt she owed me "for the service I had done her." I should think 10Z. was a quarter of her income. The " service " was mentioned as an apology, but kindness was the real motive.' The first break in this life of regular duties and employ- ments came heavily and sadly. Martha — pretty, winning, mischievous, tricksome Martha — was taken ill suddenly at the Chateau de Koekelberg. Her sister tended her with devoted love; but it was all in vain; in a few days she died. Charlotte's own short account of this event is as follows : — ' Martha Taylor's illness was unknown to me till the day before she died. I hastened to Koekelberg the next morn- 1842 DEATH OF MARTHA TAYLOR 251 ing — unconscious that she was in great danger — and was told that it was finished. She had died in the night. Mary was taken away to Bruxelles. I have seen Mary frequently since. She is in no ways crushed by the event; but while Martha was ill she was to her more than a mother — more than a sister : watching, nursing, cherishing her so ten- derly, so unweariedly. She appears calm and serious now ; no bursts of violent emotion ; no exaggeration of distress. I have seen Martha's grave — the place where her ashes lie in a foreign country.' 1 Who that has read 'Shirley' does not remember the few lines — perhaps half a page — of sad recollection ? ' He has no idea that little Jessy will die young, she is so gay, and chattering, and arch; — original even now ; pas- sionate when provoked, but most affectionate if caressed ; by turns gentle and rattling; exacting yet generous; fear- less . . yet reliant on any who will help her. Jessy, with her little piquant face, engaging prattle, and winning ways, is made to be a pet. . . . 'Do you know this place? No, you never saw it; but you recognise the nature of these trees, this foliage — the cypress, the willow, the yew. Stone crosses like these are not unfamiliar to you, nor are these dim garlands of ever- lasting flowers. Here is the place; green sod and a grey marble head-stone — Jessy sleeps below. She lived through an April day; much loved was she, much loving. She often, in her brief life, shed tears — she had frequent sor- rows; she smiled between, gladdening whatever saw her. Her death was tranquil and happy in Rose's guardian arms, for Rose had been her stay and defence through many 1 This letter to Ellen Nussey, dated Haworth, Nov. 10, 1842, con- cludes, 'Aunt, Martha Taylor, and Mr. Weightman are now all gone ; how dreary and void everything seems ! Mr. Weightman's illness was exactly what. Martha's was; he was ill the same length of time and died in the same manner. Aunt's disease was internal obstruc- tion ; she also was ill a fortnight.' 252 LITE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE trials ; the dying and the watching English girls were at that honr alone in a foreign country, and the soil of that country gave Jessy a grave. . . . ' But, Jessy, I will write about you no more. This is an autumn evening, wet and wild. There is only one cloud in the sky; but it curtains it from pole to pole. The wind cannot rest; it hurries sobbing over hills of sullen outline, colourless with twilight and mist. Rain had beat all day on that church tower ' (Haworth) : ' it rises dark from the stony enclosure of its graveyard : the nettles, the long grass, and the tombs all drip with wet. This evening reminds me too forcibly of another evening some years ago : a howl- ing, rainy autumn evening too — when certain who had that day performed a pilgrimage to a grave new made in a her- etic cemetery, sat near a wood fire on the hearth of a for- eign dwelling. They were merry and social, but they each knew that a gap, never to be rilled, had been made in their circle. They knew they had lost something whose absence could never be quite atoned for, so long as they lived ; and they knew that heavy falling rain was soaking into the wet earth which covered their lost darling; and that the sad, sighing gale was mourning above her buried head. The fire warmed them ; Life and Friendship yet blessed them : but Jessy lay cold, coffined, solitary — only the sod screen- ing her from the storm.' This was the first death that had occurred in the small circle of Charlotte's immediate and intimate friends since the loss of her two sisters long ago. She was still in the midst of her deep sympathy with ' Mary,' when word came from home that her aunt, Miss Branwell, was ail- ing — was very ill. Emily and Charlotte immediately resolved to go home straight, and hastily packed up for England, doubtful whether they should ever return to Brussels or not, leaving all their relations with M. and Madame Heger, and the pensionnat, uprooted, and un- certain of any future existence. Even before their de- 1842 DEATH OF MISS BRAN WELL 253 parture, on the morning after they received the first intel- ligence of illness — when they were on the very point of starting — came a second letter, telling them of their aunt's death. It could not hasten their movements, for every arrangement had been made for speed. They sailed from Antwerp ; they travelled night and day, and got home on a Tuesday morning. The funeral and all was over, and Mr. Bronte and Anne were sitting together, in quiet grief for the loss of one who had done her part well in their house- hold for nearly twenty years, and earned the regard and respect of many who never knew how much they would miss her till she was gone. The small property which she had accumulated, by dint of personal frugality and self- denial, was bequeathed to her nieces. Branwell, her dar- ling, was to have had his share ; but his reckless expenditure had distressed the good old lady, and his name was omitted in her will. 1 When the first shock was over the three sisters began to enjoy the full relish of meeting again, after the longest separation they had had in their lives. They had much to tell of the past and much to settle for the future. Anne had been for some little time in a situation, to which she was to return at the end of the Christmas holidays. For another year or so they were again to be all three apart ; and, after that, the happy vision of being together and opening a school was to be realised. Of course they did not now look forward to settling at Burlington, or any other place which would take them away from their father; but the small sum which they each independently possessed would enable them to effect such alterations in the parson- 1 The statement about Branwell is scarcely accurate. From the will, which was proved at York, December 28, 1843, we learn that ' my Japan dressing-box I leave to my nephew Branwell Bronte.' That none of Miss Branwell's money was left to her nephew must have been due solely to the aunt's wise recognition that the girls would be more in need of it. The money was divided between some of her female relatives at Penzance and her nieces at Haworth. 254 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE age house at Haworth as would adapt it to the reception of pupils. Anne's plans for the interval were fixed. Em- ily quickly decided to be the daughter to remain at home. About Charlotte there was much deliberation and some discussion. Even in all the haste of their sudden departure from Brussels M. Heger had found time to write a letter of sympathy to Mr. Bronte on the loss which he had just sus- tained ; a letter containing such a graceful appreciation of the daughters' characters, under the form of a tribute of respect to their father, that I should have been tempted to copy it, even had there not also been a proposal made in it, respecting Charlotte, which deserves a place in the rec- ord of her life. ' Au Reverend Monsieur Bronte Pasteur Evangelique, &c. &c. ' Samedi, 5 o bre . ' Monsieur,— Un evenement bien triste decide mesde- moiselles vos filles a retourner brnsquement en Angleterre. Ce depart qui nous afflige beancoup a cependant ma com- plete approbation ; il est bien naturel qu'elles cherchent a vous consoler de ce que le ciel vient de vous 6ter, en se serrant autour de vous, pour mieux vous faire apprecier ce que le ciel vous a donne et ce qu'il vous laisse encore. J'espere que vous me pardonnerez, monsieur, de profiter de cette circonstance pour vous faire parvenir l'expression de mon respect ; je n'ai pas l'honneur de vous connaitre personnellement, et cependant j'eprouve pour votre per- sonne un sentiment de sincere veneration, car en jugeant un pere de famille par ses enfants on ne risque pas de se tromper, et sous se rapport l'education et les sentiments que nous avons trouves dans mesdemoiselles vos filles n'ont pu que nous donner une tres haute idee de votre merite et de votre caractere. Vous apprendrez sans doute avec plaisir que vos enfants out fait du progres tres remarquable dans toutes les branches de l'enseignement, et que ces progres 1842 LETTER OF M. HEGER TO MR. BRONTE 255 sont enticement dus a leur amour pour le travail et a leur perseverance ; nous n'avons eu que bien peu a faire avec de pareilles eleves ; leur avancement est votre oeuvre bien plus que la notre ; nous n'avons pas eu a leur apprendre le prix du temps et de 1'instruction, elles avaient appris tout cela dans la maison paternelie, et nous n'avons eu, pour notre part, que le faible m6rite de diriger leurs efforts et de fournir un aliment convenable a la louable activite que vos filles ont puisee dans votre exemple et dans vos lecons. Puissent les eloges m6rit6s que nous donnons a vos en- fants vous 6tre de quelque consolation dans le malheur qui vous afflige ; c'est la notre espoir en vous ecrivant, et ce sera, pour mesdemoiselles Charlotte et Emily, une douce et belle recompense de leurs travaux. ' En perdant nos deux cheres el&ves, nous ne devons pas vous cacher que nous eprouvons a la fois et du chagrin et de l'inquietude ; nous sommes affliges parce que cette brusque separation vient briser l'affection presque paternelle que nous leur avons vouee, et notre peine s'angmente a la vue de tant de travaux interrompus, de tant de choses bien commencees, et qui ne demandent que quelque temps encore pour 6tre menees a bonne fin. Dans un an chacune de vos demoiselles eut ete entitlement premunie contre les eventualites de l'avenir; chacune d'elles acquerait a la fois et rinstruction et la science d'enseignement ; Mile Emily allait apprendre le piano ; recevoir des lecons du meillenr professeur que nous ayons en Belgique, et deja elle avait elle-meme de petites 61e>es ; elle perdait done a la fois un reste d'ignorance et un reste plus g6nant encore de timidite ; Mile Charlotte commencait a donner des lepons en francais, et d'acquerir cette assurance, cet aplomb si necessaire dans l'enseignement : encore un an tout an plus et l'oeuvre 6tait achevee et bien achevee. Alors nous aurious pu, si cela vous eut convenu, ofErir a mesdemoiselles vos filles ou du moins a l'une des deux une position qui eut ete dans ses gouts, et qui lui eut donne cette douce independance si difficile a trouver pour une jeune personne. Ce n'est pas, 256 LIFE OP CHARLOTTE BRONTE croyez-le bien, monsieur, ce n'est pas ici pour nous une question d'interet personnel, c'est une question d'affection ; vous me pardonnerez si nous vous parlons de vos enfants, si nons nous occupons de leur avenir, comme si elles faisaient partiedenotrefamille ; leurs qualites personnelles, leur bon vouloir, leur zele extreme sont les seules causes qui nous poussent a nous hasarder de la sorte. Nous savons, monsieur, que vous peserez plus inurement et plus sagement que nous la consequence qu'aurait pour l'avenir une inter- ruption complete dans les etudes de vos deux fllles ; vous deciderez ce qu'il faut faire, et vous nous pardonnerez notre franchise, si vous daignez considerer que le motif qui nous fait agir est une affection bien desinteressee et qui s'affli- gerait beauconp de devoir deja se resigner a n'6tre plus utile a vos chers enfants. ' Agreez, je vousprie, monsieur, l'expression respectueuse demes sentiments de haute consideration. C. Heger.' There was so much truth, as well as so much kindness, in this letter— it was so obvious that a second year of in- struction would be far more valuable than the first — that there was no long hesitation before it was decided that Charlotte should return to Brussels. Meanwhile they enjoyed their Christmas all together in- expressibly. Branwell was with them ; that was always a pleasure at this time ; whatever might be his faults, or even his vices, his sisters yet held him up as their family hope, as they trusted that he would some day be their family pride. They blinded themselves to the magnitude of the failings of which they were now and then told, by persuading themselves that such failings were common to all men of any strength of character; for, till sad experience taught them better, they fell into the usual error of confounding strong passions with strong character. Charlotte's friends came over to see her, and she re- turned the visit. Her Brussels life must have seemed like a dream, so completely, in this short space of time, did 1843 AT HOME AT HAWORTH -257 she fall back into the old household ways ; with more of household independence than she could ever have had dur- ing her aunt's lifetime. Winter though it was, the sisters took their accustomed walks on the snow-covered moors ; or went often down the long road to Keighley, for such books as had been added to the library there during their long absence from England. CHAPTEE XII Towards the end of January the time came for Charlotte to return to Brussels. Her journey thither was rather disastrous. She had to make her way alone ; and the train from Leeds to London, which should have reached Buston Square early in the afternoon, was so much delayed that it did not get in till ten at night. She had intended to seek out the Chapter Coffee-house, where she had stayed before, and which would have been near the place where the steam- boats lay ; but she appears to have been frightened by the idea of arriving at an hour which, to Yorkshire notions, was so late and unseemly ; and taking a cab, therefore, at the station, she drove straight to the London Bridge "Wharf, and desired a waterman to row her to the Ostend packet, which was to sail the next morning. She described to me, pretty much as she has since described it in 'Vil- lette,' her sense of loneliness, and yet her strange pleasure in the excitement of the situation, as in the dead of that winter's night she went swiftly over the dark river to the black hull's side, and was at first refused leave to ascend to the deck. ' No passengers might sleep on board,' they said, with some appearance of disrespect. She looked back to the lights and subdued noises of London — that ' Mighty Heart' in which she had no place — and, standing up in the rocking boat, she asked to speak to some one in authority on board the packet. He came, and her quiet, simple statement of her wish, and her reason for it, quelled the feeling of sneering distrust in those who had first heard her request ; and impressed the authority so favourably that .he allowed her to come on board, and take possession 1843 RETURN TO BRUSSELS 259 of a berth. The next morning she sailed ; and at seven on Sunday evening she reached the Rue d'Isabelle once more, having only left Haworth on Friday morning at an early hour. Her salary was 16?. a year ; out of which she had to pay for her German lessons, for which she was charged as much (the lessons being probably rated by time) as when Emily learnt with her and divided the expense, viz. ten francs a month. By Miss Bronte's own desire she gave her English lessons in the classe, or schoolroom, without the supervision of Madame or M. Heger. They offered to be present, with a view to maintain order among the unruly Belgian girls ; but she declined this, saying that she would rather enforce discipline by her own manner and character than be in- debted for obedience to the presence of a gendarme. She ruled over a new schoolroom, which had been built on the space in the playground adjoining the house. Over that First Class she was surveillante at all hours; and hence- forward she was called Mademoiselle Charlotte by M. Heger's orders. She continued her own studies, princi- pally attending to German and to Literature ; and every Sunday she went alone to the German and English chapels. Her walks too were solitary, and principally taken in the allee defendue, where she was secure from intrusion. This solitude was a perilous luxury to one of her temperament, so liable as she was to morbid and acute mental suffering. On March 6, 1843, she writes thus : — ' I am settled by this time, of course. I am not too much overloaded with occupation ; and besides teaching English I have time to improve myself in German. I ought to consider myself well off, and to be thankful for my good fortunes. I hope I am thankful ; and if I could always keep up my spirits and never feel lonely, or long for companionship, or friendship, or whatever they call it, I should do very well. As I told you before, M. and Ma- dame Heger are the only two persons in the house for whom I really experience regard and esteem, and of course I cannot be always with them, nor even very often. They 260 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE told me, when I first returned, that I was to consider their sitting-room my sitting-room also, and to go there when- ever I was not engaged in the schoolroom. This, however, I cannot do. In the daytime it is a public room, where music masters and mistresses are constantly passing in and out ; and in the evening I will not and ought not to in- trude on M. and Madame Heger and their children. Thus I am a good deal by myself, out of school hours; but that does not signify. I now regularly give English lessons to M. Heger and his brother-in-law. They get on with won- derful rapidity, especially the first. He already begins. to speak English very decently. If you could see and hear the efforts I make to teach them to pronounce like English- men, and their unavailing attempts to imitate, you would laugh to all eternity. ' The Carnival is just over, and we have entered upon the gloom and abstinence of Lent. The first day of Lent we had coffee without milk for breakfast ; vinegar and vegetables, with a very little salt fish, for dinner ; and bread for supper. The Carnival was nothing but masking and mummery. M. Heger took me and one of the pupils into the town to see the masks. It was animating to see the immense crowds, and the general gaiety, but the masks were nothing."" I have boen twice to the D.s' 1 (those cousins of ' Mary's ' of whom I have before made mention). ' When she leaves Bruxelles I shall have nowhere to go to. I have had two letters from Mary. She does not tell me she has been ill, and she does not complain ; but her letters are not the letters of a person in the enjoyment of great happiness. She has nobody to be as good to her as M. Heger is to me; to lend her books ; to converse with her sometimes, &c. ' Good-bye. When I say so it seems to me that you will hardly hear me; all the waves of the Channel heaving and roaring between must deaden the sound.' 2 1 The Dixons. 2 This letter to Ellen Nussey was illustrated by a humorous pen-and- ink sketch of Charlotte Bronte saying ' Good-bye' across the Channel, 1843 HEK SOLICITUDE IN THE 'PENSIONNAT' 261 Prom the tone of this letter it may easily be perceived that the Brussels of 1843 was a different place from that of 1842. Then she had Emily for a daily and nightly solace and companion. She had the weekly variety of a visit to the family of the D.s ; and she had the frequent happiness of seeing 'Mary' and Martha. Now Emily was far away in Haworth — where she or any other loved one might die before Charlotte, with her utmost speed, could reach them, as experience, in her aunt's case, had taught her. The D.s were leaving Brussels ; so, henceforth, her weekly holiday would have to be passed in the Eue d'Isabelle, or so she thought. f Mary' was gone off on her own independent course ; Martha alone remained — still and quiet for ever, in the cemetery beyond the Porte de Louvain. The weather, too, for the first few weeks after Charlotte's return, had been piercingly cold; and her feeble constitution was always painfully sensitive to an inclement season. Mere bodily pain, however acute, she could always put aside ; but too often ill- health assailed her in a part far more to be dreaded. Her de- pression of spirits, when she was not well, was pitiful in its extremity. She was aware that it was constitutional, and could reason about it; but no reasonihg prevented her suffer- ing mental agony while the bodily cause remained in force. The Hegers have discovered, since the publication of 'Villette,' that at this beginning of her career as English teacher in their school the conduct of her pupils was often impertinent and mutinous in the highest degree. But of this they were unaware at the time, as she had declined their presence and never made any complaint. Still it must have been a depressing thought to her at this period that her joyous, healthy, obtuse pupils were so little answer- able to the powers she could bring to bear upon them ; and though, from their own testimony, her patience, firmness, and resolution at length obtained their just reward, yet with one so weak in health and spirits the reaction after such struggles as she frequently had with her pupils must have been very sad and painful. 262 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE She thns writes to her friend Ellen : — 'April 1843. ' Is there any talk of your coming to Brussels ? During the bitter cold weather we had through February, and the principal part of March, I did not regret that you had not accompanied me. If I had seen you shivering as I shivered myself, if I had seen your hands and feet as red and swelled as mine were, my discomfort would just have been doubled. I can do very well under this sort of thing ; it does not fret me ; it only makes me numb and silent ; but if you were to pass a winter in Belgium you would be ill. However, more genial weather is coming now, and I wish you were here. Yet I never have pressed you, and never would press you too warmly to come. There are privations and humiliations to submit to ; there is monotony and uniformity of life ; and, above all, there is a constant sense of solitude in the midst of numbers. The Protestant, the foreigner, is a solitary being,. whether as teacher or pupil. I do not say this by way of complaining of my own lot ; for though I acknowl- edge that there are certain disadvantages in my present position, what position on earth is without them? And, whenever I turn back to compare what I am with what I was — my place here with my place at Mrs. (Sidgwick's or Mrs. White's) — I am thankful. There was an observation in your last letter which excited, for a moment, my wrath. At first I thought it would be folly to reply to it, and I would let it die. Afterwards I determined to give one answer, once for all. " Three or four people," it seems, " have the idea that the future epoux of Mademoiselle Bronte is on the Continent." These people are wiser than I am. They could not believe that I crossed the sea merely to return as teacher to Madame Heger's. I must have some more powerful motive than respect for my master and mistress, gratitude for their kindness, &c, to induce me to refuse a salary of 50?. in England and accept one of 161. in Belgium. I must, forsooth, have some remote hope of entrapping a husband somehow, or somewhere. If these charitable people knew 1843 HER LETTERS FROM BRUSSELS 263 the total seclusion of the life I lead — that I never exchange a word with any other man than Monsieur Heger, and sel- dom indeed with him — they would, perhaps, cease to sup- pose that any such chimerical and groundless notion had influenced my proceedings. Hare I said enough to clear myself of so silly an imputation ? Not that it is a crime to marry, or a crime to wish to be married ; but it is an im- becility, which I reject with contempt, for women, who have neither fortune nor beauty, to make marriage the prin- cipal object of their wishes and hopes, and the aim of all their actions ; not to be able to convince themselves that they are unattractive, and that they had better be quiet, and think of other things than wedlock.' The following is an extract, from one of the few letters which have been preserved, of her correspondence with her sister Emily :' — 1 Here Is the actual letter. The original, from Gharlotte_Bronte and Iter Circle, is in the possession of Mr. A. B. Nicholls : — 'Dear E. J., — The reason of the unconscionable demand for money is explained in my letter to papa. "Would you believe it, Mile. Mlihl demands as much for one pupil as for two, namely, ten francs per month. This, with the five francs per month to the blanchisseuse, makes havoc in W,. per annum. You will perceive I have begun again to take German lessons. Things wag on much as usual here. Only Mile. Blanche and Mile. HaussSare at present on a system of war without quarter. They hate each other like two cats. Mile. Blanche frightens Mile. Hausse by her white passions (for they quarrel venom- ously). Mile. Hausse complains that when Mile. Blanche is in fury "elle n'a pas de Uvres." I find also that Mile. Sophie dislikes Mile. Blanche extremely. She says she is heartless, insincere, and vindictive, which epithets, I assure you, are richly deserved. Also I find she is the regular spy of Mme. Heger, to whom she reports everything. Also she invents— which I should not have thought. I have now the entire charge of the English lessons. I have given two lessons to the first class. Hortense Jannoy was a picture on these occasions ; her face was black as a " blue-piled thunder-loft," and her two ears were red as raw beef. To all questions asked her reply was, " Je ne sais pas." It is a pity but her friends could meet with a person qualified to cast out a devil. I am richly off for companionship in these parts. 264 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' May 29, 1843. 'I get on here from day to day in a Robinson-Crusoe-like sort of way, very lonely, but that does not signify. In other respects I have nothing substantial to complain of, nor is this a cause for complaint. I hope you are well. Walk out often on the moors. My love to Tabby. I hope she keeps well.' And about this time she wrote to her father — ' June 2, 1843. * I was very glad to hear from home. I had begun to get low-spirited at not receiving any news, and to entertain indefinite fears that something was wrong. You do not say anything about your own health, but I hope you are well, and Emily also. I am afraid she will have a good deal of hard work to do now that Hannah' (a servant girl who had been assisting Tabby) ' is gone. I am exceedingly glad to Of late daysM. and Mme. Heger rarely speak to me, and I really don't pretend to care a fig for anybody else in the establishment. You are not to suppose by that expression that I am under the influence of warm affection for Mme. Heger. I am convinced that she does not like me — why I can't tell, nor do I think she herself has any definite reason for the aversion ; but, for one thing, she cannot comprehend why I do not make intimate friends of Mesdames Blanche, Sophie, and Hausse. M. Heger is wondrously influenced by Madame, and I should not wonder if he disapproves very much of my unamiable want of sociability. He has already given me a brief lecture on uni- versal bienveillance, and, perceiving that I don't improve in conse- quence, I fancy he has taken to considering me as a person to be let alone, left to the error of her ways ; and consequently he has in a great measure withdrawn the light of his countenance, and I get on from day to day in a Robinson-Ciusoe-like condition— very lonely. That does not signify. In other respects I have nothing substantial to complain of, nor is even this a cause for complaint. Except the loss of M. Heger's goodwill (if I have lost it) I care for none of 'em. I hope you are well and hearty. Walk out often on the moors. Sorry am I to hear that Hannah is gone, and that she has left you burdened with the charge of the little girl, her sister. I hope Tabby will continue to stay with you —give my love to her. Regards to the fighting gentry, and to old asthma.— Your 0. B.' 1843 DEVOIR . each per Quarter 110 Latin ) Mu8ic I. each per Quarter . . ... 1 1 Drawing. . .) Use of Piano Forte, per Quarter . . .050 Washing, per Quarter . 15 Each Young Lady to be provided with One Pair of Sheets, Pillow Cases, Four Towels, a Dessert and Tea Spoon. A Quarter's Notice, or a Quarter's Board, is required previous to the Removal of a Pupil. 286 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE A month later she says : — ' We have made no alterations yet in our house. It would be folly to do so, while there is so little likelihood of our ever getting pupils. I fear you are giving yourself too much trouble on our account. Depend upon it, if you were to persuade a mamma to bring her child to Haworth, the as- pect of the place would frighten her, and she would prob- ably take the dear girl back with her instanter. We are glad that we have made the attempt, and we will not be cast down because it has not succeeded.' There were, probably, growing up in each sister's heart secret unacknowledged feelings of relief that their plan had not succeeded. Yes ! a dull sense of relief that their cher- ished project had been tried and had failed. For that house, which was to be regarded as an occasional home for their brother, could hardly be a fitting residence for the children of strangers. They had, in all likelihood, become silently aware that his habits were such as to render his society at times most undesirable. Possibly, too, they had, by this time, heard distressing rumours concerning the cause of that remorse and agony of mind which at times made him restless and unnaturally merry, at times rendered him moody and irritable. In January 1845 Charlotte says, ' Branwell has been quieter and less irritable on the whole this time than he was in summer. Anne is, as usual, always good, mild, and patient.' The deep-seated pain which he was to occasion to his relations had now taken a decided form, and pressed heavily on Charlotte's health and spirits. Early in this year she went to H. 1 to bid good-bye to her dear friend ' Mary,' who was leaving England for Australia. Branwell, I have mentioned, had obtained the situation of a private tutor. Anne was also engaged as governess in 1 Hunsworth, the residence of the Taylors at this time. Mary was going to New Zealand, not Australia. 1845 SAD FOREBODINGS 287 the same family, and was thus a miserable witness to her brother's deterioration of character at this period. Of the causes of this deterioration I cannot speak ; but the conse- quences were these : He went home for his holidays reluc- tantly, stayed there as short a time as possible, perplexing and distressing them all by his extraordinary conduct — at one time in the highest spirits, at another in the deepest depression — accusing himself of blackest guilt and treach- ery, without specifying what they were ; and altogether evincing an irritability of disposition bordering on in- sanity. Charlotte and Emily suffered acutely from his mysteri- ous behaviour. He expressed himself more than satisfied with his situation ; he was remaining in it for a longer time than he had ever done in any kind of employment before ; so that for some time they could not conjecture that anything there made him so wilful and restless and full of both levity and misery. But a sense of something wrong connected with him sickened and oppressed them. They began to lose all hope in his future career. He was no longer the family pride ; an indistinct dread, caused partly by his own conduct, partly by expressions of ago- nising suspicion in Anne's letters home, was creeping over their minds that he might turn out their deep disgrace. But, I believe, they shrank from any attempt to define their fears, and spoke of him to each other as little as possible. They could not help but think, and mourn, and wonder. 'February 20, 1845. " I spent a week at H(unsworth), not very pleasantly ; headache, sickliness, and flatness of spirits made me a poor companion, a sad drag on the vivacious and loquacious gaiety of all the other inmates of the house. I never was fortunate enough to be able to rally, for as much as a single hour, while I was there. I am sure all, with the excep- tion, perhaps, of Mary, were very glad when I took my departure. I begin to perceive that I have too little life 288 LIFE OP CHARLOTTE BRONTE in me, nowadays, to be fit company for any except very quiet people. Is it age, or what else, that changes me so?' Alas ! she hardly needed to have asked this question. How could she be otherwise than ' flat-spirited,' 'a poor companion,' and a ' sad drag ' on the gaiety of those who were light-hearted and happy ? Her honest plan for earn- ing her own livelihood had fallen away, crumbled to ashes; after all her preparations not a pupil had offered herself ; and, instead of being sorry that this wish of many years could not be realised, she had reason to be glad. Her poor father, nearly sightless, depended upon her cares in his blind helplessness ; but this was a sacred, pious charge, the duties of which she was blessed in fulfilling. The black gloom hung over what had once been the brightest hope of the family — over Branwell, and the mystery in which his wayward conduct was enveloped. Somehow and some time he would have to turn to his home as a hiding-place for shame ; such was the sad foreboding of his sis- ters. Then how couldshe be cheerful, when she was los- ing her dear and noble 'Mary,' for such a length of time and distance of space that her heart might well prophesy that it was 'for ever'? Long before she had written of Mary T(aylor) that she ' was full of feelings noble, warm, generous, devoted, and profound. God bless her ! I never hope to see in this world a character more truly noble. She would die willingly for one she loved. Her intellect and attainments are of the very highest standard.' And this was the friend whom she was to lose! Hear that friend's account of their final interview: — ' When I last saw Charlotte (Jan. 1845) she told me she had quite decided to stay at home. She owned she did not like it. Her health was weak. She said she would like any change at first, as she had liked Brussels at first, and she thought that there might be some pos- sibility for some people of having a life of more variety and more communion with human kind, but she saw none 1845 DAILY LIFE AT HAWORTH 289 for her. I told her very warmly that she ought not to stay at home ; that to spend the next five years at home, in solitude and weak health, would ruin her ; that she would never recover it. Such a dark shadow came over her face when I said, "Think of what you'll be five years hence !" that I stopped, and said, " Don't cry, Char- lotte !" She did not cry, but went on walking up and down the room, and said in a little while, " But I intend to stay, Polly." ' A few weeks after she parted from Mary she gives this account of her days at Haworth : — 'March 24, 1845. 'I can hardly tell you how time gets on at Haworth. There is no event whatever to mark its progress. One day resembles another; and all have heavy, lifeless physiogno- mies. Sunday, baking day, and Saturday are the only ones that have any distinctive mark. Meantime life wears away. I shall soon be thirty ; and I have done nothing yet. Sometimes I get melancholy at the prospect before and be- hind me. Yet it is wrong and foolish to repine. Undoubt- edly my duty directs me to stay at home for the present. There was a time when Haworth was a very pleasant place to me ; it is not so now. I feel as if we were all buried here. I long to travel; to work ; to live a life of action. Excuse me, dear, for troubling you with my fruitless wishes. I will put by the rest, and not trouble you with them. You must write to me. If you knew how welcome your letters are, you would write very often. Your letters, and the French newspapers, are the only messengers that come to me from the outer world beyond our moors ; and very welcome mes- sengers they are.' One of her daily employments was to read to her father, and it required a little gentle diplomacy on her part to effect this duty ; for there were times when the offer of another to do what he had been so long accustomed to do for himself only reminded him too painfully of the deprivation under 19 290 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE which he was suffering. And, in secret, she, too, dreaded a similar loss for herself. Long-continued ill-health, a de- ranged condition of the liver, her close application to mi- nute drawing and writing in her younger days, her now habitual sleeplessness at nights, the many bitter noiseless tears she had shed over Branwell's mysterious and dis- tressing conduct — all these causes were telling on her poor eyes ; and about this time she thus writes to M. Heger : — 'II n'y a rien que je crains comme le desceuvrement, l'inertie, la 16thargie des facultes. Quand le corps est paressenx l'esprit souffre cruellement; je ne connaltrais pas cette lethargie si je pouvais ecrire. Autrefois je passais des journees, des semaines, des mois entiers a ecrire, et pas tout k fait sans fruit, puisque Southey et Coleridge, deux de nos meilleurs auteurs, a qui j'ai envoye certains mannscrits, en ont bien voulu temoigner leur approbation ; mais a present j'ai la vue trop faible ; si j'ecrivais beaucoup je deviendrais aveugle. Cette faiblesse de vue est pour moi une terrible privation ; sans cela savez-vous ce que je ferais, monsieur ? J'ecrirais un livre et je le dedierais a mon maltre de littera- ture, an seul maitre que j'aie jamais eu — k vous, monsieur! Je vous ai dit souvent en francais combien je vous respecte, combien je suis redeuable a votre bonte, a vos conseils. Je voudrais le dire une f ois en anglais. Cela ne se peut pas ; il ne faut pas y penser. La carriere des lettres m'est fer- mee. . . . N'oubliez pas de me dire comment vous vous por- tez, comment madame et les enfants se portent. Je compte bientdt avoir de vos nouvelles ; cette idee me souris, car le souvenir de vos bontes ne s'efEacera jamais de ma memoire, et tant que ce souvenir durera le respect que vous m'avez inspire durera aussi. Agreez, monsieur,' &c. It is probable that even her sisters and most intimate friends did not know of this dread of ultimate blindness which beset her at this period. What eyesight she had to spare she reserved for the use of her father. She did but 1845 LETTER TO ELLEN NUSSEY 291 little plain-sewing ; not more writing than could be avoided, and employed herself principally in knitting. 'April 2, 1845. ' I see plainly it is proved to as that there is scarcely a draught of unmingled happiness to be had in this world. George's 1 illness comes with Mary's marriage. Mary Tay- lor finds herself free, and on that path to adventure and exertion to which she has so long been seeking admission. Sickness, hardship, danger are her fellow-travellers — her inseparable companions. She may have been out of the reach of these S.W.N. W. gales, before they began to blow, or they may have spent their fury on land, and not ruffled the sea much. If it has been otherwise she has been sorely tossed, while we have been sleeping in our beds, or lying awake thinking about her. Yet these real, material dangers, when once past, leave in the mind the sat- isfaction of having struggled with difficulty, and overcome it. Strength, courage, and experience are their invariable results ; whereas I doubt whether suffering purely mental has any good result, unless it be to make us by comparison less sensitive to physical suffering." . . . Ten years ago I should have laughed at your account of the blunder you made in mistaking the bachelor doctor of Burlington for a married man. I should have certainly thought you scru- pulous overmuch, and wondered how you could possibly regret being civil to a decent individual, merely because he happened to be single, instead of double. Now, however, I can perceive that your scruples are founded on common sense. I know that if women wish to escape the stigma of husband-seeking they must act and look like marble or 1 George Nussey is meant. The letter is to his sister. I do not know who the Mary is, probably ' M. A. Ash well,' a friend of Ellen Nussey's. 2 The omitted passage runs : — ' I repeat, then, Mary Taylor has done well to go to New Zealand, but I wish we could soon have another letter from her. I hope she may write soon from Madeira.' 292 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE clay — cold, expressionless, bloodless ; for every appearance of feeling, of joy, sorrow, friendliness, antipathy, admira- tion, disgust, are alike construed by the world into the attempt to hook a husband. Never mind ! well-meaning women have their own consciences to comfort them after all. Do not, therefore, be too much afraid of showing yourself as yon are, affectionate and good-hearted ; do not too harshly repress sentiments and feelings excellent in themselves, because yon fear that some puppy may fancy that you are letting them come out to fascinate him ; do not condemn yourself to live only by halves, because if you showed too much animation some pragmatical thing in breeches might take it into his pate to imagine that you designed to dedicate your life to his inanity. Still, a com- posed, decent, equable deportment is a capital treasure to a woman, and that you possess. Write again soon, for I feel rather fierce and want stroking down.' ' June 13, 1845. ' As to the Mrs. P , who, you say, is like me, I some- how feel no leaning to her at all. I never do to people who are said to be like me, because I have always a notion that they are only like me in the disagreeable, outside, first-acquaintance part of my character ; in those points which are obvious to the ordinary run of people, and which I know are not pleasing. You say she is " clever " — " a clever person." How I dislike the term ! It means rather a shrewd, very ugly, meddling, talking woman. . . . I feel reluctant to leave papa for a single day. His sight diminishes weekly ; and can it be wondered at that, as he sees the most precious of his faculties leaving him, his spirits sometimes sink ? It is so hard to feel that his few and scanty pleasures must all soon go. He has now the greatest difficulty in either reading or writing ; and then he dreads the state of dependence to which blindness will inevitably reduce him. He fears that he will be nothing in his parish. I try to cheer him ; sometimes I succeed temporarily, but no consolation can restore his sight, or 1845 HER OPINION OF CURATES 293 atone for the want of it. Still he is never peevish ; never impatient ; only anxious and dejected.' For the reason just given Charlotte declined an invita- tion to the only house to which she was now ever asked to come. In answer to her correspondent's reply to this let- ter she says 1 — ' You thought I refused you coldly, did you ? It was a queer sort of coldness, when I would have given my ears to say Yes, and was obliged to say No. Matters, however, are now a little changed. Anne is come home, and her presence certainly makes me feel more at liberty. Then, if all be well, I will come and see you' (at Hathersage). ' Tell me only when I must come. Mention the week and the day. Have the kindness also to answer the following queries, if you can. How far is it from Leeds to Sheffield? Can you give me a notion of the cost ? Of course, when I come, you will let me enjoy your own company in peace, and not drag me out a-visiting. I have no desire at all to see your curate. I think he must be like all the other curates I have seen ; and they seem to me a self-seeking, vain, empty race. At this blessed moment we have no less than three of them in Haworth Parish — and there is not one to mend another. The other day they all three, ac- companied by Mr. Smith, of whom, by the way, I have grievous things to tell you, dropped, or rather rushed, in unexpectedly to tea. It was Monday (baking day), and I was hot and tired ; still, if they had behaved quietly and decently, I would have served them out their tea in peace ; but they began gloryfying themselves and abusing Dis- senters in such a manner that my temper lost its balance, and I pronounced a few sentences sharply and rapidly, which struck them all dumb. Papa was greatly horrified also, but I don't regret it.' 1 Letter to Ellen Nussey dated June 5, 1845, and addressed to Hathersage. 294 LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BRONTE On her return from this short visit to her friend 1 she travelled with a gentleman in the railway carriage, whose features and bearing betrayed him, in a moment, to be a Frenchman. She ventured to ask him if such was not the case ; and, on his admitting it, she further inquired if he had not passed a considerable time in Germany, and was answered that he had ; her quick ear detected something of the thick, guttural pronunciation which, Frenchmen say, they are able to discover even in the grandchildren of their countrymen who have lived any time beyond the Ehine. Charlotte had retained her skill in the language by the habit of which she thus speaks to M. Heger : — ' Je crains beaucoup d'oublier le francais — j'apprends tons les jours une demi-page de francais par cceur, et j'ai grand plaisir a apprendre cette lecon. Veuillez presenter a madame l'assurance de mon estime ; je crains que Marie- Louise et Claire ne m'aient deja oubliee ; mais je vous re- verrai un jour; aussitot que j'aurai gagne assez d'argent pour aller a Bruxelles, j'y irai.' And so her joarney back to Ha worth, after the rare pleasure of this visit to her friend, was pleasantly beguiled by conversation with the French gentleman ; and she ar- rived at home refreshed and happy. What to find there ? It was ten o'clock when she reached the parsonage. Branwell was there, unexpectedly, very ill. He had come 1 This was a three weeks' visit to the house of the Rev. Henry Nus- sey, who had just become Vicar of Hathersage, in Derbyshire, and was on his honeymoon at the time that hia sister Ellen and Charlotte Bronte stayed at his house. Charlotte's only visit to Hathersage is noteworthy because in Hathersage Church are the tombs of Robert Eyre, who fought at Agincourt and died in 1459, and Joan, his wife, who died in 1464. - I have already suggested that the only ' Jane ' in the BrontS story was associated with school days at Cowan Bridge, but it is not difficult to believe that Joan Eyre, wife of the old armour- clad warrior, suggested the title for Miss Bronte's most famous book. In Hathersage churchyard the grave of Robin Hood's comrade, ' Lit- tle John,' is shown, 10 feet 6 inches long. 1845 SORE TRIALS 295 home a day or two before, apparently for a holiday ; in reality, I imagine, because some discovery had been made which rendered his absence imperatively desirable. The day of Charlotte's return he had received a letter from Mr. (Robinson), sternly dismissing him, intimating that his pro- ceedings were discovered, characterising them as bad be- yond expression, and charging him, on pain of exposure, to break off immediately, and for ever, all communication with every member of the family. Whatever may have been the nature and depth of Bran- well's sins — whatever may have been his temptation, what- ever his guilt — there is no doubt of the suffering which his conduct entailed upon his poor father and his innocent sisters. The hopes and plans they had cherished long, and laboured hard to fulfil, were cruelly frustrated ; hencefor- ward their days were embittered and the natural rest of their nights destroyed by his paroxysms of remorse. Let us read of the misery caused to his poor sisters in Char- lotte's own affecting words : ' — ' We have had sad work with Branwell. He thought of nothing but stunning or drowning his agony of mind. No one in this house could have rest; and, at last, we have been obliged to send him from home for a week, with some one to look after him. He has written to me this morn- ing, expressing some sense of contrition . . . but as long as he remains at home I scarce dare hope for peace in the house. We must all, I fear, prepare for a season of distress and disquietude. When I left you I was strongly impressed with the feeling that I was going back to sorrow.' ' August 1845. ' Things here at home are much as usual ; not very bright as regards Branwell, though his health, and consequently his temper, have been somewhat better this last day or two, because he is now forced to abstain.' 1 Extracted from various letters to Ellen Nussey. 296 LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BRONTE ' August 18, 1845. ' I have delayed writing, because I have no good news to communicate. My hopes ebb low indeed about Branwell. I sometimes fear he will never be fit for much. The late blow to his prospects and feelings has quite made him reck- less. It is only absolute want of means that acts as any check to him. One ought, indeed, to hope to the very last ; and I try to do so, but occasionally hope in his case seems so fallacious.' ' November 4, 1845. ' I hoped to be able to ask you to come to Haworth. It almost seemed as if Branwell had a chance of getting employment, and I waited to know the result of his efforts, in order to say, " Dear Ellen, come and see us." But the place (a secretaryship to a railway committee) is given to another person. Branwell still remains at home ; and while he is here you shall not come. I am more confirmed in that resolution the more I see of him. I wish I could say one word to you in his favor, but I cannot. I will hold my tongue. We are all obliged to you for your kind suggestion about Leeds ; but I think our school schemes are, for the present, at rest.' ' December 31, 1845. ' You say well, in speaking of (Branwell), that no suffer- ings are so awful as those brought on by dissipation ; alas ! I see the truth of this observation daily proved. and must have as weary and burdensome a life of it in waiting upon their unhappy brother. It seems grievous, indeed, that those who have not sinned should suffer so largely.' In fact, all their latter days blighted with the presence of cruel, shameful suffering — the premature deaths of two at least of the sisters — all the great possibilities of their earthly lives snapped short — may be dated from midsum- mer 1845. For the last three years of Branwell's life he took opium 1845 A TIME OF TROUBLE 297 habitually, by way of stunning conscience ; he drank, more- over, whenever he could get the opportunity. The reader may say that I have mentioned his tendency to intemperance long before. It is true ; but it did not become habitual, as far as I can learn, until after he was dismissed from his tutorship. He took opium, because it made him forget for a time more effectually than drink; and, besides, it was more portable. In procuring it he showed all the cunning of the opium-eater. He would steal out while the family were at church — to which he had professed himself too ill to go— and manage to cajole the village druggist out of a lump ; or, it might be, the carrier had unsuspiciously brought him some in a packeb from a distance. For some time before his death he had attacks of delirium tremens of the most frightful character ; he slept in his father's room, and he would sometimes declare that either he or his father would be dead before the morning. The trem- bling sisters, sick with fright, would implore their father not to expose himself to this danger ; but Mr. Bronte is no timid man, and perhaps he felt that he conld possibly influence his son to some self-restraint, more by showing trust in him than by showing fear. The sisters often lis- tened for the report of a pistol in the dead of the night, till watchful eye and hearkening ear grew heavy and dull with the perpetual strain upon their nerves. In the mornings young Bronte would saunter out, saying, with a drunk- ard's incontinence of speech, 'The poor old man and I have had a terrible night of it ; he does his best — the poor old man ! but it's all over with me.' OHAPTBE XIV Its the coarse of this sad autumn of 1845 a new interest came up ; faint, indeed, and often lost sight of in the vivid pain and constant pressure of anxiety respecting their brother. In the biographical notice of her sisters, which Charlotte prefixed to the edition of 'Wnthering Heights ' and 'Agnes Grey' published in 1850 — a piece of writing unique, as far as I know, in its pathos and its power — she ' One day in the autumn of 1845 I accidentally lighted on a MS. volume of verse, in my sister Emily's handwrit- ing. Of course I was not surprised, knowing that she could and did write verse. I looked it over, and some- thing more than surprise seized me — a deep conviction that these were not common effusions, nor at all like the poetry women generally write. I thought them condensed and terse, vigorous and genuine. To my ear they had also a peculiar music, wild, melancholy, and elevating. My sister Emily was not a person of demonstrative char- acter, nor one on the recesses of whose mind and feelings even those nearest and dearest to her could, with impunity, intrude unlicensed : it took hours to reconcile her to the discovery I had made, and days to persuade her that such poems merited publication. . . . Meantime my younger sister quietly produced some of her own compositions, in- timating that since Emily's had given me pleasure I might like to look at hers. I could not but be a partial judge, yet I thought that these verses too had a sweet, sincere pathos of their own. We had very early cherished the dream of one day being authors. . . . We agreed to arrange 1845 THE SISTERS' POEMS 299 a small selection of our poems, and, if possible, get them printed. Averse to personal publicity, we veiled our own names under those of Ourrer, Ellis, and Acton Bell ; the ambiguous choice being dictated by a sort of conscientious scruple at assuming Christian names positively masculine, while we did not like to declare ourselves women, because — without at the time saspecting that our mode of writing and thinking was not what is called " feminine " — we had a vague impression that authoresses are liable to be looked on with prejudice ; we noticed how critics sometimes used for their chastisement the weapon of personality, and for their reward a flattery which is not true praise. The bring- ing out of our little book was hard work. As was to be expected, neither we nor our poems were at all wanted ; but for this we had been prepared at the outset ; though inexperienced ourselves, we had read of the experience of others. The great puzzle lay in the difficulty of getting answers of any kind from the publishers to whom we ap- plied. Being greatly harassed by this obstacle, I ventured to apply to the Messrs. Chambers, of Edinburgh, for a word of advice ; they may have forgotten the circumstance, but / have not, for from them I received a brief and business-like, but civil and sensible reply, on which we acted, and at last made way/ I inquired from Mr. Eobert Chambers, and found, as Miss Bronte conjectured, that he had entirely forgotten the application which had been made to him and his brother for advice ; nor had^they any copy or memoran- dum of the correspondence. There is an intelligent man living in Haworth ' who has 1 Mr. Greenwood, who died at Haworth in 1863. He lived in the middle of the Town Gate, about halfway up the street on the right- hand side. An accident in his youth caused him to appear somewhat deformed, one shoulder being higher than the other. The inscription on his tomb in Haworth churchyard runs as follows :— ' In loving remembrance of John Greenwood, of Haworth, who died March 25, 1863, aged 56 years.' 300 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE given me some interesting particulars relating to the sisters about this period. He says — ' I have known Miss Bronte as Miss Bronte a long time ; indeed, ever since they came to Haworth in 1819. But I had not much acquaintance with the family till about 1843, when I began to do a little in the stationery line. Nothing of that kind could be had nearer than Keighley before I began. They used to buy a great deal of writing- paper, and I used to wonder whatever they did with so much. I sometimes thought they contributed to the magazines. When I was out of stock I was always afraid of their com- ing ; they seemed so distressed about it if I had none. I have walked to Halifax (a distance of ten miles) many a time for half a ream of paper, for fear of being without it when they came. I could not buy more at a time for want of capital. I was always short of that. I did so like them to come when I had anything for them ; they were so much different to anybody else ; so gentle and kind, and so very quiet. They never talked much. Charlotte sometimes would sit and inquire about our circumstances so kindly and feelingly ! . . . Though I am a poor working man (which I have never felt to be any degradation), I could talk with her with the greatest freedom. I always felt quite at home with her. Though I never had any school educa- tion, I never felt the want of it in her company.' The publishers to whom she finally made a successful application for the production of ' Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell's poems ' were Messrs. Aylott & Jones, Paternoster Row. 1 Mr. Aylott has kindly placed at my disposal the 1 Aylott and Jones were two young booksellers and stationers of 8 Paternoster Row, who published scarcely any books, but whose name will always be associated with two volumes now of considerable value in the eyes of collectors — Poems, by Ourrer, Ellis, and Acton Bell, a copy of which was sold at Sotheby's in 1899 for 181., and The Gem : Thoughts towards Nature in Poetry, Literature, and, Art, the latter 1846 THE SISTERS' POEMS 301 letters which she wrote to them on the subject. 1 The first is dated January 28, 1846, and in it she inquires if they will publish one volume octavo of poems ; if not at their own risk, on the author's account. It is signed 'C. Bronte.' They must have replied pretty speedily, for on January 31 she writes again — ' Gentlemen, — Since you agree to undertake the publi- cation of the work respecting which I applied to you, I should wish now to know, as soon as possible, the cost of paper and printing. I will then send the necessary remit- tance, together with the manuscript. I should like it to be printed in one octavo volume, of the same quality of paper and size of type as Moxon's last edition of Wordsworth. The poems will occupy, I should think, from 200 to 250 pages. They are not the production of a clergyman, nor are they exclusively of a religious character ; but I presume these circumstances will be immaterial. It will, perhaps, be necessary that yon should see the manuscript, in order to calculate accurately the expense of publication ; in that case I will send it immediately. I should like, however, previously to have some idea of the probable cost ; and if, from what I have said, you can make a rough calculation on the subject, I should be greatly obliged to you.' In her next letter, February 6, she says — ' You will perceive that the poems are the work of three persons, relatives ; their separate pieces are distinguished by their respective signatures.' She writes again on February 15, and on the 16th she issued on commission for D. Gr. Eossetti and his Pre-Raphaelite col- leagues, a copy of which now sells for from ten pounds to twenty- pounds. 1 The originals of these letters are now in the collection brought to- gether by the late Mr. Alfred Morrison. There are some few letters not printed by Mrs. Gaskell, but they are immaterial. 302 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ( The MS. will certainly form a thinner volume than I had anticipated. I cannot name another model which I should like it precisely to resemble, yet I think a duodeci- mo form, and a somewhat reduced, though still clear type, would be preferable. I only stipulate for clear type, not too small, and good paper.' On February 21 she selects the 'long primer type' for the poems, and will remit 317. 10s. in a few days. Minute as the details conveyed in these notes are, they are not trivial, because they afford such strong indications of character. If the volume was to be published at their own risk, it was necessary that the sister conducting the negotiation should make herself acquainted with the dif- ferent kinds of type and the various sizes of books. Ac- cordingly she bought a small volume, from which to learn all she could on the subject of preparation for the press. No half-knowledge — no trusting to other people for deci- sions which she could make for herself _; and yet a generous and full confidence, not misplaced, in the thorough probity of Messrs. Aylott & Jones. The caution in ascertaining the risk before embarking in the enterprise, and the prompt payment of the money required, even before it could be said to have assumed the shape of a debt, were both parts of a self-reliant and independent character.' Self-contained also was she. During the whole time that the volume of poems was in the course of preparation and publication no word was written telling any one, out of the household cir- cle, what was in progress. 1 1 The title-page ran as follows : ' Poems by Currer, Ellis, & Acton Bell. London : Aylott & Jones, 8 Paternoster Row, 1846.' Two years later the unbound copies were issued with a title-page bearing the im- print of Smith, Elder, & Co., and the same date, 1846, although it is clear that the sheets could not have been taken over by Smith, Elder, & Co. until 1848. The edition with the Smith, Elder, & Co. title-page has an advertisement of the third edition of Jane Eyre, of the second edition of Tlie Tenant of Wildfell Hall, and of the first edition of 1846 LETTER TO MISS WOOLER 303 I have had some of the letters placed in my hands which she addressed to her old schoolmistress, Miss Wooler. They begin a little; before this time. Acting on the con- viction, which I have all along entertained, that where Charlotte Bronte's own words could be used no others ought to take their place, I shall make extracts from this series, according to their dates. 'January 30, 1846. ' My dear Miss Wooler, — I have not yet paid my visit to B(irstall) ; it is, indeed, more than a year since I was there, Wuihering Heights. Wildfell Hall was not in its second edition until 1848. The question is set at rest by the two following letters : — TO GEORGE SMITH, ESQ. ' September 7, 1848. 'My dear Sir, — You are probably aware that C, E., and A. Bell published, a year or two since, a volume of Poems which, not being largely advertised, had but a limited sale. I wished much to ask your advice about the disposal of the remaining copies, when in London, but was withheld by the consciousness that " the Trade " are not very fond of hearing about Poetry, and that it is but too often a profitless encumbrance on the shelves of the bookseller's shop. I received to- day, however, the enclosed note from Messrs. Aylott and Jones, which I transmit to you for your consideration. ' Awaiting your answer, ' I remain, my dear Sir, ' Yours sincerely, ' C. Bronte.' TO GEORGE SMITH, ESQ. ' December 7, 1848. 'My dear Sir, — I have received to-day the sum of 241. 0s. 6d., paid by you to Messrs. Aylott and Jones for Bell's Poems. For this I thank you, and beg again to express a hope that the transaction may not in the end prove disadvantageous to you. ' Allow me to mention that my father, as well as my sisters and my- self, have derived great pleasure from some of the books you sent ; he is now reading Borrow's Bible in Spain with interest, and under pres- ent circumstances whatever agreeably occupies his mind must be truly beneficial. ' Believe me, my dear Sir, ' Yours sincerely, ' C. Bronte.' 304 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE but I frequently hear from Ellen, and she did not fail to tell me that you were gone into Worcestershire ; she was unable, however, to give me your exact address. Had I known it I should have written to you long since. I thought you would wonder how we were getting on, when you heard of the railway panic ; and you may be sure that I am very glad to be able to answer your kind inquiries by an assurance that our small capital is as yet undiminished. The York and Midland is, as you say, a very good line ; yet, I confess to you, I should wish, for my own part, to be wise in time. I cannot think that even the very best lines will continue for many years at their present premiums ; and I have been most anxious for us to sell our shares ere it be too late, and to secure the proceeds in some safer, if, for the present, less profitable investment. I cannot, how- ever, persuade my sisters to regard the affair precisely from my point of view ; and I feel as if I would rather run the risk of loss than hurt Emily's feelings by acting in direct opposition to her opinion. She managed in a most hand- some and able manner for me, when I was in Brussels, and prevented by distance from looking after my own interests ; therefore I will let her manage still and take the conse- quences. Disinterested and energetic she certainly is ; and if she be not quite so tractable or open to conviction as I could wish, I must remember perfection is not the lot of humanity ; and as long as we can regard those we love, and to whom we are closely allied, with profound and never-shaken esteem, it is a small thing that they should vex us occasionally by what appear to us unreasonable and headstrong notions. ' You, my dear Miss Wooler, know, full as well as I do, the value of sisters' affection to each other ; there is noth- ing like it in this world, I believe, when they are nearly equal in age, and similar in education, tastes, and senti- ments. You ask about Branwell ; he never thinks of seeking employment, and I begin to fear that he has rendered himself incapable of filling any respectable sta- 184a LETTER TO MISS WOOLER 305 tion in life ; besides, if money were at his disposal, he would use it only to his own injury ; the faculty of self- goTernment is, I fear, almost destroyed in him. Yon ask me if I do not think that men are strange beings. I do, indeed. I have often thought so ; and I think, too, that the mode of bringing them up is strange : they are not sufficiently guarded from temptation. Girls are pro- tected as if they were something very frail or silly indeed, while boys are turned loose on the world, as if they, of all beings in existence, were the wisest and least liable to be led astray. I am glad you like Bromsgrove, though, I dare say, there are few places you would not like with Mrs. M. for a companion. I always feel a peculiar satisfaction when I hear of your enjoying yourself, because it proves that there really is such a thing as retributive justice even in this world. You worked hard ; you denied yourself all pleasure, almost all relaxation, in your youth, and in the prime of life ; now you are free, and that while you have still, I hope, many years of vigour and health in which you can enjoy freedom. Besides, I have another and very ego- tistical motive for being pleased ; it seems that even " a lone woman " can be happy, as well as cherished wives and proud mothers. I am glad of that. I speculate much on the existence of unmarried and never-to-be-married women nowadays ; and I have already got to the point of consider- ing that there is no more respectable character on this earth than an unmarried woman, who makes her own way through life quietly, perse veringly, without support of husband or brother ; and who, having attained the age of forty-five or upwards, retains in her possession a well-regulated mind, a disposition to enjoy simple pleasures, and fortitude to support inevitable pains, sympathy with the sufferings of others, and willingness to relieve want as far as her means extend.' During the time that the negotiation with Messrs. Aylott & Jones was going on Charlotte went to visit her old school 306 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE friend, 1 with whom she was in such habits of confidential intimacy ; but neither then nor afterwards did she ever speak to her of the publication of the poems ; nevertheless this young lady suspected that the sisters wrote for maga- zines ; and in this idea she was confirmed when, on one of her visits to Haworth, she saw Anne with a number of 'Chambers's Journal,' s and a gentle smile of pleasure steal- ing over her placid face as she read. 'What is the matter?' asked the friend. 'Why do you smile ?' ' Only because I see they have inserted one of my poems,' was the quiet reply ; and not a word more was said on the subject. To this friend Charlotte addressed the following let- ters : — 'March 3, 1846. 'I reached home a little after two o'clock, all safe and right yesterday ; I found papa very well ; his sight much the same. Emily and Anne were going to Keighley to meet me ; unfortunately I had returned by the old road, while they were gone by the new, and we missed each other. They did not get home till half-past four, and were caught in the heavy shower of rain which fell in the afternoon. I am sorry to say Anne has taken a little cold in consequence, but I hope she will soon be well. Papa was much cheered by my report of Mr. C.'s opinion, and of old Mrs. E.'s ex- perience ; 3 but I could perceive he caught gladly at the idea of deferring the operation a few months longer. I went into the room where Branwell was, to speak to him, about an hour after I got home : it was very forced work to 1 Miss Ellen Nussey. 2 Chambers's Journal was founded in 1832. The present editor of the Journal, Mr. 0. E. S. Chambers, has kindly forwarded to me Mrs. Gaskell's correspondence with the firm, and has endeavoured, without success, to identify Anne's poem. 3 In the original letter it runs, ' Mr. Carr's opinion, and of old Mrs. Carr's experience,' but these identifications are, of course, quite value- less. 1846 CORRESPONDENCE WITH PUBLISHERS 307 address him. I might have spared myself the trouble, as he took no notice and made no reply ; he was stupefied. My fears were not in vain. I hear that he got a sovereign while I have been away, under pretence of paying a press- ing debt ; he went immediately and changed it at a public- house, and has employed it as was to be expected. Emily concluded her account by saying he was a "hopeless being;" it is too true. In his present state it is scarcely possible to stay in the room where he is. What the future has in store I do not know.' ' March 81, 1846. 'Our poor old servant Tabby had a sort of fit, a fortnight since, but is nearly recovered now. Martha" (the girl they had to assist poor old Tabby, and who remains still the faithful servant at the parsonage) 'is ill with a swelling in her knee, and obliged to go home. I fear it will be long before she is in working condition again. I received the number of the " Record " you sent. . . . I read D'AubignS's letter. It is clever, and in what he says about Catholicism very good. The Evangelical Alliance part is not very practicable, yet certainly it is more in accordance with the spirit of the Gospel to preach unity among Christians than to inculcate mutual intolerance and hatred. I am very glad I went to B(rookroyd) when I did, for the changed weather has somewhat changed my health and strength since. How do you get on ? I long for mild south and west winds. I am thankful papa continues pretty well, though often made very miserable by Branwell's wretched conduct. There — there is no change but for the worse.' Meanwhile the printing of the volume of poems was quietly proceeding. After some consultation and deliber- ation the sisters had determined to correct the proofs them- selves. Up to March 28 the publishers had addressed their correspondent as ' C. Bronte, Esq. ;' but at this time some 1 Martha Brown. See note, p. 57. 308 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTfi 'little mistake occurred,' and she desired Messrs. Aylott & Jones in future to direct to her real address, 'Miss Bronte,' &c. She had, however, evidently left it to be implied that she was not acting on her own behalf, but as agent for the real authors, since in a note dated April 6 she makes a proposal on behalf of 'C, B., and A. Bell,' which is to the following effect: that they are preparing for the press a work of fiction, consisting of three distinct and uncon- nected tales, which may be published either together, as a work of three volumes, of the ordinary novel size, or sepa- rately, as single volumes, as may be deemed most advisable. She states, in addition, that it is not their intention to pub- lish these tales on their own account, but that the authors direct her to ask Messrs. Aylott & Jones whether they would be disposed to undertake the work, after having, of course, by due inspection of the MS., ascertained that its contents are such as to warrant an expectation of success. 1 To this letter of inquiry the publishers replied speedily, and the tenor of their answer may be gathered from Char- lotte's, dated April 11. 'I beg to thank you, in the name of C, E., and A. Bell, for your obliging letter of advice. I will avail myself of it to request information on two or three points. It is evi- 1 Here is the actual letter : — 'April 6, 1846. 'Gentlemen, — C, B., and A. Bell are now preparing for the press a work of fiction consisting of three distinct and unconnected tales, which may be published either together, as a work of three volumes, of the ordinary novel size, or separately as single volumes, as shall be deemed most advisable. ' It is not their intention to publish these tales on their own account. They direct me to ask you whether you would be disposed to under- take the work, after having, of course, by due inspection of the MS., ascertained that its contents are such as to warrant an expectation of success. ' An early answer will oblige, as, in case of your negativing the pro- posal, inquiry must be made of other publishers. — I am, gentlemen, yours truly, C. BRONTfi.' 1846 'POEMS' FOR REVIEW 309 dent that unknown authors have great difficulties to con- tend with, before they can succeed in bringing their works before the public. Can you give me any hint as to the way in which these difficulties are best met ? For instance, in the present case, where a work of fiction is in question, in what form would a publisher be most likely to accept the MS., whether offered as a work of three vols., or as tales which might be published in numbers, or as contributions to a periodical ? 'What publishers would be most likely to receive fa- vourably a proposal of this nature ? ' Would it suffice to write to a publisher on the subject, or would it be necessary to have recourse to a personal in- terview ? ' Your opinion and advice on these three points, or on any other which your experience may suggest as important, would be esteemed by us as a favour.' It is evident from the whole tenor of this correspondence that the truthfulness and probity of the firm of publishers with whom she had to deal in this her first literary vent- ure were strongly impressed upon her mind, and was fol- lowed by the inevitable consequence of reliance on their suggestions. And the progress of the poems was not un- reasonably lengthy or long drawn out. On April 20 she writes to desire that three copies may be sent to her, and that Messrs. Aylott & Jones will advise her as to the re- viewers to whom copies ought to be sent. I give the next letter as illustrating the ideas of these girls as to what periodical reviews or notices led public opinion. 'The poems to be neatly done up in cloth. Have the goodness to send copies and advertisements, as early as possible, to each of the undermentioned periodicals: — ' "Oolburn's New Monthly Magazine." ' " Bentley's Magazine." ' " Hood's Magazine." 310 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' " Jerrold's Shilling Magazine." ' " Blackwood's Magazine." * " The Edinburgh Review." ' " Tait's Edinburgh Magazine." ' " The Dublin University Magazine." ' 'Also to the "Daily News" and to the "Britannia" newspapers. ' If there are any other periodicals to which you have been in the habit of sending copies of works, let them be supplied also with copies. I think those I have mentioned will suffice for advertising.' In compliance with this latter request Messrs. Aylott suggest that copies and advertisements of the work should be sent to the ' Athenaeum,' ' Literary Gazette,' ' Critic/ and 'Times;' but in her reply Miss Bronte says that she thinks the periodicals she first mentioned will be sufficient for advertising in at present, as the authors do not wish to lay out a larger sum than two pounds in advertising, esteeming the success of a work dependent more on the notice it receives from periodicals than on the quantity of advertisements. In case of any notice of the poems ap- 1 To the editor of the Dublin University Magazine she wrote on Oc- tober 6, 1846, as follows :— ' Sir, — I thank you in my own name and that of my brothers, Ellis and Acton, for the indulgent notice that appeared in your last number of our first humble efforts in literature ; but I thank you far more for the essay on modern poetry which preceded that notice — an essay in which seems to me to be condensed the very spirit of truth and beauty. If all or half your other readers shall have derived from its perusal the delight it afforded to myself and my brothers, your labours have produced a rich result. ' After such criticism an author may indeed be smitten at first by a sense of his own insignificance — as we were — but on a second and a third perusal he finds a power and beauty therein which stirs him to a desire to do more and better things. It fulfils the right end of criti- cism : without absolutely crushing it corrects and rouses. I again thank you heartily, and beg to subscribe myself, — Your constant and grateful reader, Cukbek Bbll.' 1846 REVIEW IN THE 'ATHENAEUM' 311 pearing, -whether favourable or otherwise, Messrs. Aylott & Jones are requested to send her the name and number of those periodicals in which such notices appear ; as other- wise, since she has not the opportunity of seeing period- icals regularly, she may miss reading the critique. ' Should the poems be remarked upon favourably, it is my inten- tion to appropriate a further sum for advertisements. If, on the other hand, they should pass unnoticed or be con- demned, I consider it would be quite useless to advertise, as there is nothing, either in the title of the work or the names of the authors, to attract attention from a single in- dividual.' I suppose the little volume of poems was published some time about the end of May 1846. It stole into life ; some weeks passed over, without the mighty murmuring public discovering that three more voices were uttering their speech. And, meanwhile, the course of existence moved drearily along from day to day with the anxious sisters, who must have forgotten their sense of authorship in the vital care gnawing at their hearts. On June 17 Charlotte writes : — ' Branwell declares that he neither can nor will do any- thing for himself ; good situations have been offered him, for which, by a fortnight's work, he might have qualified himself, but he will do nothing except drink and make us all wretched.' In the ' Athenasum ' of July 4, under the head of ' Poetry for the Million,' came a short review of the poems of C, B., and A. Bell. The reviewer assigns to Ellis the highest rank of the three 'brothers,' as he supposes them to be; he calls Ellis 'a fine, quaint spirit;' and speaks of 'an evident power of wing that may reach heights not here attempted.' Again, with some degree of penetration, the reviewer says that the poems of Ellis ' convey an impression of originality beyond what his contributions to these volumes embody.' Currer is placed midway between Ellis and Acton. But 312 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE there is little in the review to strain out, at this distance of time, as worth preserving. Still, we can fancy with what interest it was read at Haworth Parsonage, and how the sisters would endeavour to find out reasons for opinions, or hints for the future guidance of their talents. I call particular attention to the following letter of Charlotte's, dated July 10, 1346. To whom it was written matters not ; ' but the wholesome sense of duty in it — the sense of the supremacy of that duty which G-od, in placing us in families, has laid out for us — seems to deserve especial regard in these days : — 'I see you are in a dilemma, and one of a peculiar and difficult nature. Two paths lie before you ; you con- scientiously wish to choose the right one, even though it be the most steep, strait, and rugged; but you do not know which is the right one ; you cannot decide whether duty and religion command you to go out into the cold and friendless world, and there to earn your living by governess drudgery, or whether they enjoin your continued stay with your aged mother, neglecting, for the present, every pros- pect of independency for yourself, and putting up with daily inconvenience, sometimes even with privations. I can well imagine that it is next to impossible for you to de- cide for yourself in this matter, so I will decide it for you. At least I will tell you what is my earnest conviction on the subject; I will show you candidly how the question strikes me. The right path is that which necessitates the greatest sacrifice of self-interest — which implies the greatest good to others ; and this path, steadily followed, will lead, I believe, in time, to prosperity and happiness, though it may seem, at the outset, to tend quite in a contrary direc- tion. Your mother is both old and infirm ; old and infirm people have but few sources of happiness — fewer almost than the comparatively young and healthy can conceive; 1 It was addressed to Ellen Nussey. 1846 CORRESPONDENCE WITH MR. AYLOTT 313 to deprive them of one of these is cruel. If your mother is more composed when you are with her, stay with her. If she would be unhappy in case you left her, stay with her. It will not apparently, as far as short-sighted humanity can see, be for your advantage to remain at B(rookroyd), nor will yon be praised and admired for remaining at home to comfort your mother; yet, probably, your own conscience will approve, and if it does, stay with her. I recommend you to do what I am trying to do myself.' The remainder of this letter is only interesting to the reader as it conveys a peremptory disclaimer of the report that the writer was engaged to be married to her father's curate — the very same gentleman to whom, eight years af- terwards, she was united ; ' and who, probably, even now, although she was unconscious of the fact, had begun his service to her, in the same tender and faithful spirit as that in which Jacob served for Rachel. Others may have no- ticed this, though she did not. A few more notes remain of her correspondence ' on be- half of the Messrs. Bell ' with Mr. Aylott. On July 15 she says, ' I suppose, as you have not written, no other notices have yet appeared, nor has the demand for the work in- creased. Will you favour me with a line stating whether any, or how many copies have yet been sold ?' 1 It runs as follows : — ' Who gravely asked you whether Miss Bronte was not going to be married to her papa's curate ? I scarcely need say that never was rumour more unfounded. A cold, far-away sort of civility are the only terms on which I have ever been with Mr. Nicholls. I could by no means think of mentioning such a rumour to him even as a joke. It would make me the laughing-stock of himself and his fellow cu- rates for half a year to come. They regard me as an old maid, and I regard them, one and all, as highly uninteresting, narrow, and unat- tractive specimens of the coarser sex. ' Write to me again soon, whether you have anything particular to say or not. Give my sincere love to your mother and sisters. 'C. Bronte.' 314 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE But few, I fear; for, three days later, she wrote the fol- lowing : — ' The Messrs. Bell desire me to thank yon for your sug- gestion respecting the advertisements. They agree with you that, since the season is unfavourable, advertising had better be deferred. They are obliged to you for the informa- tion respecting the number of copies sold." On July 23 she writes to Messrs. Aylott & Jones — ' The Messrs. Bell would be obliged to you to post the enclosed note in London. It is an answer to the letter you forwarded, which contained an application for their auto- graphs from a person who professed to have read and ad- mired their poems. I think I before intimated that the Messrs. Bell are desirous for the present of remaining un- known, for which reason they prefer having the note posted in London to sending it direct, in order to avoid giving any clue to residence, or identity by post-mark, &c/ ' 1 The number was two only, as will appear from the following letter, addressed to Thomas De Quincey :* — ' June 16, 1847. ' Sir, — My relatives, Ellis and Acton Bell, and myself, heedless of the repeated warnings of various respectable publishers, have commit- ted the rash act of printing a volume of poems. ' The consequences predicted have, of course, overtaken us : our book is found to be a drug ; no man needs it or heeds it. In the space of a year our publisher has disposed but of two copies, and by what painful efforts he succeeded in getting rid of these two himself only knows. ' Before transferring the edition to the trunkmakers we have decided on distributing as presents a few copies of what we cannot sell ; and we beg to offer you one in acknowledgment of the pleasure and profit we have often and long derived from your works. — I am, sir, yours very respectfully, Curebs Bell.' 8 The application was sent by Mr. F. Enoch, of the Corn Market, * De Quincey Memorials, by Alexander H. Japp. An exactly similar letter was addressed by ' Currer Bell ' to several of the famous authors of her day, to Alfred Tennyson among others. See Alfred, Lord Ten- nyson: a Memoir, by his son. 1898. 1846 THE FAILURE OF THE 'POEMS' 315 Once more, in September, she writes, ' As the work has received no further notice from any periodical, I presume the demand for it has not greatly increased.' In the biographical notice of her sisters she thus speaks of the failure of the modest hopes vested in this publication : — ' The book was printed ; it is scarcely known, and all of it that merits to be known are the poems of Ellis Bell. 'The fixed conviction I held, and hold, of the worth of these poems has not, indeed, received the confirmation of much favourable criticism ; but I must retain it notwith- standing. 5 Warwick. The original autographs are framed and in the possession of the Bronte Museum at Haworth. CHAPTER XV During this summer of 1846, while her literary hopes were waning, an anxiety of another kind was increasing. Her father's eyesight had become seriously impaired by the progress of the cataract which was forming. He was near- ly blind. He could grope his way about, and recognise the figures of those he knew well, when they were placed against a strong light ; but he could no longer see to read ; and thus his eager appetite for knowledge and information of all kinds was severely baulked. He continued to preach. I have heard that he was led up into the pulpit, and that his sermons were never so effective as when he stood there, a grey, sightless old man, his blind eyes looking out straight before him, while the words that came from his lips had all the vigour and force of his best days. Another fact has been mentioned to me, curious as showing the accurateness of his sensation of bime. His sermons had always lasted exactly half an hour. With the clock right before him, and with his ready flow of words, this had been no difficult matter so long as he could see. But it was the same when he was blind ; as the minute hand came to the point, mark- ing the expiration of the thirty minutes, he concluded his sermon. Under his great sorrow he was always patient. As in times of far greater affliction he enforced a quiet endur- ance of his woe upon himself. But so many interests were quenched by this blindness that he was driven inwards, and must have dwelt much on what was painful and distressing in regard to his only son. No wonder that his spirits gave way, and were depressed. For some time before this autumn 1846 AT MANCHESTER 317 his daughters had been collecting all the information they could respecting the probable supcess of operations for cat- aract performed on a person of their father's age. About the end of July Emily and Charlotte had made a journey to Manchester for the purpose of searching out an operator ; and there they heard of the fame of the late Mr. Wilson as an oculist. They went to him at once, but he could not tell, from description, whether the eyes were ready for be- ing operated upon or not. It therefore became necessary for Mr. Bronte to visit him ; and towards the end of August Charlotte brought her father to him. He determined at once to undertake the operation, and recommended them to comfortable lodgings kept by an old servant of his. These were in one of numerous similar streets of small mo- notonous-looking houses, in a suburb of the town. Prom thence the following letter is dated, 1 on August 21, 1846 : — * I just scribble a line to you to let you know where I am, in order that you may write to me here, for it seems to me that a letter from you would relieve me from the feeling of strangeness I have in this big town. Papa and I came here on Wednesday ; we saw Mr. Wilson, the oculist, the same day ; he pronounced papa's eyes quite ready for an opera- tion, and has fixed next Monday for the performance of it. Think of us on that day ! We got into our lodgings yesterday. I think we shall be comfortable ; at least our rooms are very good, but there is no mistress of the house (she is very ill, and gone out into the country), and I am somewhat puzzled in managing about provisions ; we board ourselves. I find myself excessively ignorant. I can't tell what to order in the "way of meat. For ourselves I could contrive, papa's diet is so very simple ; but there will be a nurse coming in a day or two, and I am afraid of not hav- ing things good enough for her. Papa requires nothing, 1 From 83 Mount Pleasant, Boundary Street, Oxford Eoad, Man- cheater. The letter, together with the one that follows it, was writ- ten to Ellen Nussey. 318 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE you know, but plain beef and mutton, tea and bread-and- butter ; but a nurse will probably expect to live much bet- ter : give me some hints, if you can. Mr. Wilson says we shall have to stay here for a month at least. I wonder how Emily and Anne will get on at home with Branwell. They, too, will have their troubles. What would I not give to have you here ! One is forced, step by step, to get expe- rience in the world ; but the learning is so disagreeable. One cheerful feature in the business is that Mr. Wilson thinks most favourably of the case.' ' August 26, 1846. f The operation is over; it took place yesterday. Mr. Wilson performed it ; two other surgeons assisted. Mr. Wilson says he considers it quite successful ; but papa cannot yet see anything. The affair lasted precisely a quarter of an hour ; it was not the simple operation of couching Mr. C. described, but the more complicated one of extracting the cataract. Mr. Wilson entirely disapproves of couching. Papa displayed extraordinary patience and firmness ; the surgeons seemed surprised. I was in the room all the time, as it was his wish that I should be there ; of course I neither spoke nor moved till the thing was done, and then I felt that the less I said, either to papa or the surgeons, the better. Papa is now confined to his bed in a dark room, and is not to be stirred for fonr days ; he is to speak and be spoken to as little as possi- ble. I am greatly obliged to you for your letter, and your kind advice, which gave me extreme satisfaction, because I found I had arranged most things in accordance with it, and, -as your theory coincides with my practice, I feel assured the latter is right. I hope Mr. Wilson will soon allow me to dispense with the nurse ; she is well enongh, no doubt, but somewhat too obsequious ; and not, I should think, to be much trusted ; yet I was obliged to trust her in some things. . . . ' Greatly was I amused by your account of (Joseph Taylor)'s flirtations ; and yet something saddened also. I 1816 AT MANCHESTER 319 think Nature intended him for something better than to fritter away his time in making a set of poor, unoccupied spinsters unhappy. The girls, unfortunately, are forced to care for him, and such as him, because, while their minds are mostly unemployed, their sensations are all un- worn, and consequently fresh and green ; and he, on the contrary, has had his fill of pleasure, and can, with im- punity, make a mere pastime of other people's torments. This is an unfair state of things ; the match is not equal. I only wish I had the power to infuse into the souls of the persecuted a little of the quiet strength of pride — of the supporting consciousness of superiority (for they are superior to him, because purer) — of the fortifying resolve of firmness to bear the present, and wait the end. Could all the virgin population of (Birstall and Gomersal) receive and retain these sentiments, he would continually have to vail his crest before them. Perhaps, luckily, their feel- ings are not so acute as one would think, and the gentle- man's shafts consequently don't wound so deeply as he might desire. I hope it is so.' A few days later she writes thus: 1 ' Papa is still lying in bed, in a dark room, with his eyes bandaged. No inflam- mation ensued, but still it appears the greatest care, per- fect quiet, and utter privation of light are necessary to en- sure a good result from the operation. He is very patient, but of course depressed and weary. He was allowed to try his sight for the first time yesterday. He could see dim- ly. Mr. Wilson seemed perfectly satisfied, and said all was right. I have had bad nights from the toothache since I came to Manchester.' All this time, notwithstanding the domestic anxieties which were harassing them — notwithstanding the ill-success of their poems — the three sisters were trying that other lit- erary venture to which Charlotte made allusion in one of 1 On August 81, 1846, to Ellen Nussey. 320 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE her letters to the Messrs. Aylott. Each of them had written a prose tale, hoping that the three might be published to- gether. ' Wuthering Heights ' and ' Agnes Grey ' are be- fore the world. The third, 'The Professor' — Charlotte's contribution — was published shortly after the appearance of the first edition of this memoir. 1 The plot in itself is of no great interest ; but it is a poor kind of interest that depends upon startling incidents rather than upon dramatic development of character; and Charlotte Bronte never ex- celled one or two sketches or portraits which she has given in ' The Professor/ nor, in grace of womanhood, ever sur- passed one of the female characters there described. By the time she wrote this tale her taste and judgment had revolted against the exaggerated idealisms of her early girlhood, and she went to the extreme of reality, closely de- picting characters as they had shown themselves to her in actual life : if there they were strong even to coarseness — as was the case with some that she had met with in flesh- and-blood existence — she ' wrote them down an ass ; ' if the scenery of such life as she saw was for the most part wild and grotesque, instead of pleasant or picturesque, she described it line for line. The grace of the one or two scenes and characters which are drawn rather from her own imagination than from absolute fact, stand out in exquisite relief from the deep shadows and wayward lines of others, which call to mind some of the portraits of Rembrandt. The three tales had tried their fate in vain together; at length they were sent forth separately, and for many months with still-continued ill success. I have mentioned this here because, among the dispiriting circumstances connected with her anxious visit to Manchester, Charlotte told me that her tale came back upon her hands, curtly 1 The first edition of The Professor was published in two volumes, with a brief introductory note by Mr. A. B. Nicholls, dated Septem- ber 22, 1856. The title-page ran, ' The Professor: a Tale. By Gurrer Bell, Author of "Jane Eyre," "Shirley," " Villette," do. In two volumes. London: Smith, Elder, & Oo., 65 Oornhill. 1857.' 1846 HER BEAVE HEART 321 rejected by some publisher, on the very day when her father was to submit to his operation. But she had the heart of Robert Bruce within her, and failure upon failure daunted her no more than him. Not only did ' The Pro- fessor ' return again to try his chance among the London publishers, but she began, in this time of care and depress- ing inquietude — in those grey, weary, uniform streets, where all faces, save that of her kind doctor, were strange and untouched with sunlight to her — there and then did the brave genius begin ' Jane Byre.' ' Read what she her- self says : — ' Currer Bell's book found acceptance nowhere, nor any acknowledgment of merit, so that something like the chill of despair began to invade his heart.' And, re- member, it was not the heart of a person who, disap- pointed in one hope, can turn with redoubled affection to the many certain blessings that remain. Think of her home, and the black shadow of remorse lying over one in it, till his very brain was mazed, and his gifts and his life were lost ; think of her father's sight hanging on a thread ; of her sisters' delicate health, and dependence on her care ; and then admire, as it deserves to be admired, the steady courage which could work away at -Jane Eyre,' all the time ' that the one - volume tale was plodding its weary round in London.' Some of her surviving friends consider that an incident which she heard, when at school at Miss Wooler's", was the germ of the story of 'Jane Eyre.' But of this nothing can be known, except by conjecture. Those to whom she spoke upon the subject of her writings are dead and silent; and the reader may probably have 1 The Professor was considered by six successive publishers before it was read by Mr. Smith Williams, the ' reader ' for Smith, Elder, & Co. Mr. Smith Williams, on the strength of her statement that she had 'a second narrative in three volumes now in progress' (see p. 336), suggested that she should complete that novel, and submit it to the firm he represented. Hence Jane Eyre was submitted only to the firm that published it. 21 322 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE noticed that in the correspondence from which I have quoted there has been no allusion whatever to the pub- lication of her poems, nor is there the least hint of the intention of the sisters to publish any tales. I remem- ber; however, many little particulars which Miss Bronte gave me, in answer to my inquiries respecting her mode of composition, &c. She said that it was not every day that she could write. Sometimes weeks or even months elapsed before she felt that she had anything to add to that portion of her story which was already written. Then some morn- ing she would waken up, and the progress of her tale lay clear and bright before her, in distinct vision. When this was the case all her care was to discharge her household and filial duties, so as to obtain leisure to sit down and write out the incidents and consequent thoughts, which were, in fact, more present to her mind at such times than her actual life itself. Yet, notwithstanding this ' posses- sion ' (as it were), those who survive, of her daily and household companions, are clear in their testimony that never was the claim of any duty, never was the call of an- other for help neglected for an instant. It had become necessary to give Tabby — now nearly eighty years of age — the assistance of a girl. Tabby relinquished any of her work with a jealous reluctance, and could not bear to be reminded, though ever so delicately, that the acuteness of her senses was dulled by age. The other servant might not interfere with what she chose to consider her exclusive work. Among other things she reserved to herself the right of peeling the potatoes for dinner ; but, as she was growing blind, she often left in those black specks which we in the North call the ' eyes ' of the potato. Miss Bronte" was too dainty a housekeeper to put up with this; yet she could not bear to hurt the faithful old servant by bidding the younger maiden go over the potatoes again, and so reminding Tabby that her work was less effectual than formerly. Accordingly she would steal into the kitchen, and quietly carry off the bowl of vegetables, with- 1846 HER SYSTEM OF WORKING 323 out Tabby's being aware, and, breaking off in the full flow of interest and inspiration in her writing, carefully cut out the specks in the potatoes, and noiselessly carry them back to their place. This little proceeding may show how or- derly and fully she accomplished her duties, even at those times when the ' possession ' was upon her. Any one who has studied her writings, whether in print or in her letters ; any one who has enjoyed the rare privi- lege of listening to her talk, must have noticed her singu- lar felicity in the choice of words. She herself, in writing her books, was solicitous on this point. One set of words was the truthful mirror of her thoughts ; no others, how- ever identical in meaning, would do. She had that strong practical regard for the simple holy truth of expression which Mr. Trench ' has enforced, as a duty too often neg- lected. She would wait patiently, searching for the right term, until it presented itself to her. It might be provin- cial, it might be derived from the Latin ; so that it accu- rately represented her idea she did not mind whence it came ; but this care makes her style present the finish of a piece of mosaic: Bach component part, however small, has been dropped into the right place. She never wrote down a sentence until she clearly understood what she wanted to say, had deliberately chosen the words, and arranged them in their right order. Hence it comes that, in the scraps of paper covered with her pencil writing which I have seen, there will occasionally be a sentence scored out, but seldom, if ever, a word or an expression. She wrote on these bits of paper in a minute hand, holding each against a piece of board, such as is used in binding books, for a desk. 2 This plan was necessary for one so short- sighted as she was ; and, besides, it enabled her to use 1 Richard Chenevix Trench (1807-1886), Archbishop of Dublin. His Study of Words was published in 1851, and English, Past and Present, in 1855. 5 Mr. Nicholls still preserves one of the broken book-covers upon which, he tells me, his wife wrote Jane Eyre. 324 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE pencil and paper, as she sat near the fire in the twilight hours, or if (as was too often the case) she was wakeful for hours in the night. Her finished manuscripts were copied from these pencil scraps, in clear, legible, delicately traced writing, almost as easy to read as print. The sisters retained the old habit, which was begun in their aunt's lifetime, of putting away their work at nine o'clock, and commencing their study, pacing up and down the sitting-room. At this time they talked over the stories they were engaged upon, and described their plots. Once or twice a week each read to the others what she had writ- ten, and heard what they had to say about it. Charlotte told me that the remarks made had seldom any effect in inducing her to alter her work, so possessed was she with the feeling that she had described reality ; but the read- ings were of great and stirring interest to all, taking them out of the gnawing pressure of daily recurring cares, and setting them in a free place. It was on one of these occa- sions that Charlotte determined to make her heroine plain, small, and unattractive, in defiance of the accepted canon. The writer of the beautiful obituary article on ' the death of Currer Bell" most likely learnt from herself what is there stated, and which I will take the liberty of quoting, about 'Jane Eyre.' 'She once told her sisters that they were wrong — even morally wrong — in making their heroines beautiful as a matter of course. They replied that it was impossible to make a heroine interesting on any other terms. Her answer was, " I will prove to you that you are wrong ; I will show you a heroine as plain and as small as myself, who shall be as interesting as any of yours." Hence "Jane Eyre," said she in telling the anecdote : " but she is not myself any further than that." As the work went on the interest deepened to the writer. When she came to "Thornfield" 1 Miss Harriet Martineau in the Daily News. 1846 THE RETURN FROM MANCHESTER 325 she could not stop. Being short-sighted to excess, she wrote in little square paper-books, held close to her eyes, and (the first copy) in pencil. On she went writing inces- santly for three weeks ; by which time she had carried her heroine away from Thornfield, and was herself in a fever which compelled her to pause.' This is all, I believe, which can now be told respecting the conception and composition of this wonderful book, which was, however, only at its commencement when Miss Bronte returned with her father to Haworth, after their anxious expedition to Manchester. They arrived at home about the end of September. Mr. Bronte was daily gaining strength, but he was still forbid- den to exercise his sight much. Things had gone on more comfortably while she was away than Charlotte had dared to hope, and she expresses herself thankful for the good ensured and the evil spared during her ab- sence. Soon after this some proposal, of which I have not been able to gain a clear account, was again mooted for Miss Bronte's opening a school at some place distant from Ha- worth. It elicited the following fragment of a character- istic reply : — 'Leave home ! I shall neither be able to find place nor employment ; perhaps, too, I shall be quite past the prime of life, my faculties will be rusted, and my few acquire- ments in a great measure forgotten. These ideas sting me keenly sometimes ; but, whenever I consult my conscience, it affirms that I am doing right in staying at home, and bitter are its upbraidings when I yield to an eager desire for release. I could hardly expect success if I were to err against such warnings. I should like to hear from you again soon. Bring R to the point, and make him give you a clear, not a vague, account of what pupils he really could promise ; people often think they can do great things 326 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE in that way till they have tried ; but getting pupils is unlike getting any other sort of goods.' 1 Whatever might be the nature and extent of this negotia- tion, the end of it was that Charlotte adhered to the de- cision of her conscience, which bade her remain at home, as long as her presence could cheer or comfort those who were in distress, or had the slighest influence over him who was the cause of it. The next extract gives us a glimpse into the cares of that home. It is from a letter dated De- cember 15. ' I hope you are not frozen up ; * the cold here is dread- 1 Mrs. Gaskell has somewhat abridged this letter, which iD the orig- inal runs as follows :— ' I read your letter with attention, not on my own account, for any project which infers the necessity of my leaving home is impractica- ble to me. If I could leave home I should not be at Haworth now ; I know life is passing away, and I am doing nothing, earning nothing. A very bitter knowledge it is at moments, but I see no way out of the mist. More than one very favourable opportunity has now offered, which I have been obliged to put aside. Probably when I am free to leave home I shall neither be able to find place nor employment ; per- haps, too, I shall be quite past the prime of life, my faculties will be rusted, an'd my few acquirements in a great measure forgotten. These ideas sting me keenly sometimes, but whenever I consult my con- science it affirms that I am doing right in staying at home, and bitter are its upbraidings when I yield to an eager desire for release. I returned to Brussels after aunt's death against my conscience, prompt- ed by what seemed then an irresistible impulse. I was punished for my selfish folly by a total hindrance for more than two years of hap- piness and peace of mind. I could hardly expect success were I to err again in the same way.' It has been urged that this passage, in its suggestion of loss of ' peace of mind,' has reference to the writer's devotion to her profess- or, M. Heger, having been something more than the admiration of a pupil for an honoured instructor. Charlotte Bronte's friend Ellen Nussey, on the other hand, always declared that the reference was to her father having given way to drink during her second sojourn in Brussels. The point is unimportant. 2 In the original letter to Ellen Nussey the words ' frozen up in Northamptonshire ' occur. 1846 ANNE'S 'HEROISM OF ENDURANCE' 327 ful. I do not remember such a series of North-Pole days. England might really have taken a slide up into the Arctic Zone ; the sky looks like ice ; the earth is frozen ; the wind is as keen as a two-edged blade. We have all had severe colds and coughs in consequence of the weather. Poor Anne has suffered greatly from asthma, but is now, we are glad to say, rather better. She had two nights last week when her cough and difficulty of breathing were painful indeed to hear and witness, and must have been most dis- tressing to suffer ; she bore it, as she bears all affliction, without one complaint, only sighing now and then when nearly worn out. She has an extraordinary heroism of en- durance. I admire, but I certainly could not imitate her.' . . . 'You say lam to "tell you plenty." What would you have me say ? Nothing happens at Haworth ; nothing, at least, of a pleasant kind. One little incident occurred about a week ago to sting us to life ; but if it gives no more pleasure for you to hear than it does for us to wit- ness, you will scarcely thank me for adverting to it. It was merely the arrival of a sheriff's officer on a visit to Branwell, inviting him either to pay his debts or take a trip to York. Of course his debts had to be paid. It is not agreeable to lose money, time after time, in this way ; but where is the use of dwelling on such subjects ? It will make him no better.' ' December 28. ' I feel as if it was almost a farce to sit down and write to you now, with nothing to say worth listening to ; and indeed, if it were not for two reasons, I should put off the business at least a fortnight hence. The first reason is, I want another letter, from you, for your letters are interest- ing, they have something in them, some results of experi- ence and observation ; one receives them with pleasure, and reads them with relish ; and these letters I cannot ex- pect to get, unless I reply to them. I wish the corre- spondence could be managed so as to be all on one side. The second reason is derived from a remark in your last, 328 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE thab you felt lonely, something as I was at Brussels, 1 and that consequently you had a peculiar desire to hear from old acquaintance. I can understand and sympathise with this. I remember the shortest note was a treat to me, when I was at the above-named place ; therefore I write. I have also a third reason : it is a haunting terror lest you should imagine I forget you — that my regard cools with absence. It is not in my nature to forget your nature ; though I dare say I should spit fire and explode some- times if we lived together continually; and you, too, would get angry, and then we should get reconciled and jog on as before. Do you ever get dissatisfied with your own temper when you are long fixed to one place, in one scene, subject to one monotonous species of annoyance? I do : I am now in that unenviable frame of mind; my hu- mour, I think, is too soon overthrown, too sore, too de- monstrative and vehement. I almost long for some of the uniform serenity you describe in Mrs. 's disposition ; or, at least, I would fain have her power of self-control and concealment; but I would not take her artificial habits and ideas along with her composure. After all I should prefer being as I am. . . . You do right not to be annoyed at any maxims of conventionality you meet with. Regard all new ways in the light of fresh experience for you : if you see any honey, gather it.' ' . . . 'I don't, after all, con- sider that we ought to despise everything we see in the world, merely because it is not what we are accustomed to. 1 • At Stonegappe and Brussels ' in the original letter, which was ad- dressed to Ellen Nussey. 2 ' See Punch ' is the only omission here. The previous number of Punch (No. 341, vol. x. p. 91, February 21, 1846) had contained a paper entitled 'Little Fables for Little Politicians.' The second of these fables, entitled ' The Drones,' sets forth how ' a swarm of drones lived for a number of years in a rich beehive, helping themselves to the best of the honey, and contributing nothing to the store.' Finally, the drones — that is to say, the Protectionists — were driven out by the bees ; and Punch implores ' our venerable Dukes to have the above little Fable read to them at least once a day.' 1846 THE CLOSE OF 1846 329 I suspect, on the contrary, that there are not unfrequently substantial reasons underneath for customs that appear to us absurd ; and if I were ever again to find myself amongst strangers I should be solicitous to examine before I con- demned. Indiscriminating irony and fault-finding are just suniphishness, and that is all. Anne is now much better, but papa has been for near a fortnight far from well with the influenza; he has at times a most distressing cough, and his spirits are much depressed.' So ended the year 1846. CHAPTER XVI The next year opened with a spell of cold, dreary weather, which told severely on a constitution already tried by anx- iety and care. Miss Bronte describes herself as having ut- terly lost her appetite, and as looking ' grey, old, worn, and sunk/ from her sufferings during the inclement sea- son. The cold brought on severe toothache ; toothache was the cause of a succession of restless, miserable nights ; and long wakefulness told acutely upon her nerves, making them feel with redoubled sensitiveness all the harass of her oppressive life. Yet she would not allow herself to lay her bad health to the charge of an uneasy mind; 'for after all/ said she at this time, ' I have many, many things to be thankful for.' But the real state of things may be gath- ered from the following extracts from her letters. ' March 1. ' Even at the risk of appearing very exacting I can't help saying that I should like a letter as long as your last, every time you write. Short notes give one the feeling of a very small piece of a very good thing to eat — they set the appe- tite on edge, and don't satisfy it — a letter leaves you more contented ; and yet, after all, I am very glad to get notes ; so don't think, when you are pinched for time and ma- terials, that it is useless to write a few lines ; be assured a few lines are very acceptable as far as they go; and though I like long letters I would by no means have you to make a task of writing them. ... I really should like you to come to Haworth, before I again go to B(irstall). And it is natural and right that I should have this wish. To keep 1847 FAMILY TRIALS 331 friendship in proper order the balance of good offices must be preserved ; otherwise a disquieting and anxious feeling creeps in, and destroys mutual comfort. In summer, and in fine weather, your visit here might be much better man- aged than in winter. We could go out more, be more in- dependent of the house and of our room. Bran well has been conducting himself very badly lately. I expect, from the extravagance of his behaviour, and from mysterious hints he drops (for he never will speak out plainly), that we shall be hearing news of fresh debts contracted by him soon. My health is better : I lay the blame of its feeble- ness on the cold weather more than on an uneasy mind.' ' March 24, 1847. ' It is at Haworth, if all be well, that we must next see each other again. I owe you a grudge for giving Miss Wooler some very exaggerated account about my not being well, and setting her on to urge my leaving home as quite a duty. I'll take care not to tell you next time, when I think I am looking specially old and ugly ; as if people could not have that privilege without being supposed to be at the last gasp ! I shall be thirty-one next birthday. My youth is gone like a dream ; and very little use have I ever made of it. What have I done these last thirty years ? Precious little.' 1 The quiet, sad year stole on. The sisters were contem- plating near at hand, and for a long time, the terrible ef- fects of talents misused and faculties abused in the person of that brother once their fond darling and dearest pride. They had to cheer the poor old father, in whose heart all trials sank the deeper, because of the silent stoicism of his endurance. They had to watch over his health, of which, whatever was its state, he seldom complained. They had to save, as much as they could, the precious remnants of his sight. They had to order the frugal household with 1 Both the above letters were addressed to Ellen Nussey. 332 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE increased care, so as to supply wants and expenditure utter- ly foreign to their self - denying natures. Though they shrank from overmuch contact with their fellow beings, for all whom they met they had kind words, if few ; and when kind actions were needed they were not spared, if the sisters at the Parsonage could render them. They visited the parish schools duly ; and often were Charlotte's rare and brief holidays of a visit from home shortened by her sense of the necessity of being in her place at the Sun- day school. In the intervals of such a life as this 'Jane Eyre' was making progress. ' The Professor ' was passing slowly and heavily from publisher to publisher. ' Wuthering Heights ' and 'Agnes Grey' had been accepted by another publisher, ' on terms somewhat impoverishing to the two authors ;' a bargain to be alluded to more fully hereafter. 1 It was lying in his hands, awaiting his pleasure for its passage through the press, during all the months of early summer. The piece of external brightness to which the sisters looked during these same summer months was the hope that the friend to whom so many of Charlotte's letters are addressed, and who was her chosen companion, whenever circumstances permitted them to be together, as well as a favourite with Emily and Anne, would be able to pay them a visit at Ha worth. —Fine weather had come in May, Char- lotte writes, and they hoped to make their visitor decently comfortable. Their brother was tolerably well, having got to the end of a considerable sum of money which he became possessed of in the spring, and therefore under the whole- some restriction of poverty. But Charlotte warns her friend that she must expect to find a change in his appearance, and that he is broken in mind ; and ends her note of entreating invitation by saying, ' I pray for fine weather, that we may get out while you stay.' At length the day was fixed. 1 The two stories were published as if they were one book ; see note, p. 356. 1847 A DISAPPOINTMENT 333 'Friday will suit us very well. I do trust nothing will now arise to prevent your coming. I shall be anxious about the weather on that day ; if it rains I shall ory. Don't ex- pect me to meet yon ; where would be the good of it ? I neither like to meet, nor to be met. Unless, indeed, you had a box or a basket for me to carry ; then there would be some sense in it. Come in black, blue, pink, white, or scarlet, as you like. Come shabby or smart ; neither the colour nor the condition signifies ; provided only the dress contain Ellen, all will be right.' But there came the first of a series of disappointments to be borne. One feels how sharp it must have been to have wrung out the following words : — ' May 20. ' Your letter of yesterday did indeed give me a cruel chill of disappointment. I cannot blame you, for I know it was not your fault. I do not altogether exempt from re- proach. . . . This is bitter, but I feel bitter. As to going to B(irstall), I will not go near the place till you have been to Haworth. My respects to all and sundry, accompanied with a large amount of wormwood and gall, from the ef- fusion of which you and your mother are alone excepted. — C. B. ' You are quite at liberty to tell what I think, if you judge proper. Though it is true I may be somewhat un- just, for I am deeply annoyed. I thought I had arranged your visit tolerably comfortable for you this time. I may find it more difficult on another occasion.' I must give one sentence from a letter written about this time, as it shows distinctly the clear strong sense of the writer. 'I was amused by what she 1 says respecting her wish that, when she marries, her husband will, at least, have a 1 The reference is to a Miss Amelia Ringrose, who married Joseph Taylor, one of Mary Taylor's brothers. 334 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE will of his own, even should he be a tyrant. Tell her, when she forms that aspiration again, she must make it condi- tional : if her husband has a strong will, he must also have a strong sense, a kind heart, and a thoroughly correct notion of justice ; because a man with a weak brain and a strong will is merely an intractable brute ; you can have no hold of him ; you can never lead him right. A tyrant under any circumstances is a curse.' Meanwhile ' The Professor ' had met with many refusals from different publishers ; some, I have reason to believe, not over-courteously worded in writing to an unknown author, and none alleging any distinct reasons for its re- jection. Courtesy is always due ; but it is, perhaps, hardly to be expected that, in the press of business in a great publishing house, they should find time to explain why they decline particular works. Yet, though one course of action is not to be wondered at, the opposite may fall upon a grieved and disappointed mind with all the graciousness of dew ; and I can well sympathise with the published account which 'Currer Bell' gives of the feelings experienced on reading Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co.'s letter containing the rejection of 'The Professor.' ' As a forlorn hope we tried one publishing house more. Ere long, in a much shorter space than that on which ex- perience had taught him to calculate, there came a letter, which he opened in the dreary anticipation of finding two hard, hopeless lines, intimating that "Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co. were not disposed to publish the MS.," and, instead, he took out of the envelope a letter of two pages. He read it trembling. It declined, indeed, to publish that tale for business reasons, but it discussed its merits and demerits so courteously, so considerately, in a spirit so rational, with a discrimination so enlightened, that this very refusal cheered the author better than a vulgarly expressed accept- ance would have done. It was added that a work in three volumes would meet with careful attention.' Mr. Smith has told me a little circumstance connected 1847 UNINITIATED IN PUBLISHERS' WAYS 335 with the reception of this manuscript, which seems to me indicative of no ordinary character. It came (accompanied by the note given below) in a brown paper parcel to 65 Oornhill. Besides the address to Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co. there were on it those of other publishers to whom the tale had been sent, not obliterated, but simply scored through, so that Mr. Smith at once perceived the names of some of the houses in the trade to which the unlucky parcel had gone without success. TO MESSES. SMITH AND ELDER. ' July 15, 1847. ' Gentlemen, — I beg to submit to your consideration the accompanying manuscript. I should be glad to learn whether it be such as you approve, and would undertake to publish at as early a period as possible. Address, Mr. Currer Bell, under cover to Miss Bronte, Haworth, Brad- ford, Yorkshire.' Some time elapsed before an answer was returned. A little circumstance may be mentioned here, though it belongs to a somewhat earlier period, as showing Miss Brontes inexperience of the ways of the world, and willing deference to the opinions of others. She had written to a publisher about one of her manuscripts, which she had sent him, and, not receiving any reply, she consulted her brother as to what could be the reason for the prolonged silence. He at once set it down to her not having enclosed a postage-stamp in her letter. She accordingly wrote again, to repair her former omission, and apologize for it. TO MESSES. SMITH AND ELDEE. ' August 2, 1847. 'Gentlemen, — About three weeks since I sent for your consideration a MS. entitled "The Professor, a tale by Ourrer Bell." I should be glad to know whether it reached your hands safely, and likewise to learn, at your earliest 336 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE convenience, whether it be sneh as you can undertake to publish. — I am, Gentlemen, yours respectfully, ' Cubeeb Bell. * I enclose a directed cover for your reply.' This time her note met with a prompt answer; for, four days later, she writes (in reply to the letter which she after- wards characterised in the Preface to the second edition of ' Wuthering Heights ' as containing a refusal so delicate;, reasonable, and courteous as to be more cheering than some acceptances) — ' Your objection to the want of varied interest in the tale is, I am aware, not without grounds ; yet it appears to me that it might be published without serious risk, if its ap- pearance were speedily followed up by another work from the same pen, of a more striking and exciting character. The first work might serve as an introduction, and accus- tom the public to the author's name ; the success of the second might thereby be rendered more probable. I have a second narrative in three volumes, now in progress, and nearly completed, to which I have endeavored to impart a more vivid interest than belongs to " The Professor." In about a month I hope to finish it, so that if a pub- lisher were found for "The Professor" the second nar- rative might follow as soon as was deemed advisable ; and thus the interest of the public (if any interest was aroused) might not be suffered to cool. Will you be kind enough to favour me with your judgment on this plan?' While the minds of the three sisters were in this state of suspense their long-expected friend came to pay her prom- ised visit. She was with them at the beginning of the glowing August of that year. They were out on the moors for the greater part of the day, basking in the gold- en sunshine, which was bringing on an unusual plenteons- ness of harvest, for which, somewhat later, Charlotte ex- pressed her earnest desire that there should be a thanksgiv- HA WORTH MOOR — SHOWING CHARLOTTE BRONTE S CHAIR. 1847 'JANE EYRE' 337 ing service in all the churches. August was the season of glory for the neighbourhood of Ha worth. Even the smoke, lying in the valley between that village and Keigh- ley, took beauty from the radiant colours on the moors above, the rich purple of the heather bloom calling out an harmonious contrast in the tawny golden light that, in the full heat of summer evenings, comes stealing everywhere through the dun atmosphere of the hollows. And up on the moors, turning away from all habita- tions of men, the royal ground on which they stood would expand into long swells of amethyst - tinted hills, melting away into aerial tints ; and the fresh and fragrant scent of the heather, and the 'murmur of innumerable bees,' would lend a poignancy to the relish with which they welcomed their friend to their own true home on the wild and open hills. There, too, they could escape from the Shadow in the house below. Throughout this time — during all these confidences — not a word was uttered to their friend of the three tales in London — two accepted and in the press, one trembling in the balance of a publisher's judgment — nor did she hear of that other story, 'nearly completed,' lying in manuscript in the grey old parsonage down below. She might have her suspicions that they all wrote with an intention of publication some time; but she knew the bounds which they set to themselves in their communications; nor could she, nor any one else, wonder at their reticence, when re- membering how scheme after scheme had failed, just as it seemed close upon accomplishment. Mr. Bronte, too, had his suspicions of something going on; but, never being spoken to, he did not speak on the subject, and consequently his ideas were vague and uncer- tain, only just prophetic enough to keep him from being actually stunned when, later on, he heard of the success of 'Jane Eyre,' to the progress of which we must now return. 22 338 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE TO MESSES. SMITH AND ELDER. 'August 24. 'I now send you per rail a MS. entitled "Jane Eyre," a novel in three volumes, by Currer Bell. I find I cannot prepay the carriage of the parcel, as money for that purpose is not received at the small station-house where it is left. If, when you acknowledge the receipt of the MS., you would have the goodness to mention the amount charged on delivery, I will immediately transmit it in postage- stamps. It is better in future to address Mr. Currer Bell, under cover to Miss Bronte, Haworth, Bradford, York- shire, as there is a risk of letters otherwise directed not reaching me at present. To save trouble, I enclose an en- velope.' l 1 The letters of Charlotte Bronte are now mainly contained in Mrs.' Gaskell's biography and Charlotte Bronte and her Circle. Conditions of space would have made it impracticable, even were it otherwise desirable, to incorporate all Miss Bronte's letters in the notes to this volume. Through the courtesy of Mr. George Smith, of Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co., I am enabled, however, to add a number of hitherto un- published letters to Mrs. Gaskell's narrative, of which one dated Sep- tember 24 comes first in chronological order : — TO SMITH, ELDER, AND CO. ' Gentlemen, — I have to thank you for punctuating the sheets before sending them to me, as I found the task very puzzling, and, besides, I consider your mode of punctuation a great deal more correct and rational than my own. I am glad you think pretty well of the first part~of Jane Eyre, and I trust, both for your sakes and my own, the public may think pretty well of it too. ' Henceforth I hope I shall be able to return the sheets promptly and regularly. — I am, Gentlemen, yours respectfully, C. Bell.' On September 29 she wrote again — ' Gentlemen, — I trust you will be able to get Jane Eyre out next month. Have the goodness to continue to send the sheets of the third vol. along with those of the second. ' I again thank you for your attention in punctuating the sheets.— I am, Gentlemen, yours respectfully, C. Bell.' 1847 'JANE EYRE' 339 'Jane Eyre' was accepted, and printed and published by October 16. l While it was in the press Miss Bronte went to pay a short visit to her friend at B(rookroyd). The proofs were forwarded to her there, and she occasionally sat at the same table with her friend, correcting them ; but they did not exchange a word on the subject. Immediately on her return to the Parsonage she wrote — ' September. ' I had a very wet, windy walk home from Keighley ; but my fatigue quite disappeared when I reached home, and found all well. Thank God for it. ' My boxes came safe this morning. I have distributed the presents. Papa says I am to remember him most kind- ly to you. The screen will be very useful, and he thanks you for it. Tabby was charmed with her cap. She said " she never thought o' naught o' t' sort as Miss sending her aught, and, she is sure, she can never thank her enough for it." I was infuriated on finding a jar in my trunk. At first I hoped it was empty, but when I found it heavy and replete, I could have hurled it all the way back to (B)irstall. However, the inscription A. B. softened me much. It was at once kind and villanous in you to send it. You ought first to be tenderly kissed, and then after- wards as tenderly whipped. Emily is just now on the floor of the bedroom where I am writing, looking at her apples. She smiled when I gave the collar to her as your present, with an expression at once well pleased and slightly surprised. All send their love. — Yours in a mixture of anger and love.' When the manuscript of ' Jane Eyre ' had been received by the future publishers of that remarkable novel, it fell to 1 It was in three volumes, and the title-page ran as follows : — ' Jane Eyre: an Autobiography. Edited by Ourrer Bell. In Three Volumes. London: Smith, Elder, & Co., Comhill. 1847.' 340 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE the share of a gentleman connected with the firm to read it first. 1 He was so powerfully struck by the character of the tale that he reported his impression in very strong terms to Mr. Smith, who appears to have been much amused by the admiration excited. 'You seem to have been so enchanted that I do not know how to believe you/ he laughingly said. But when a second reader, in the per- son of a clear-headed Scotchman/ not given to enthusiasm, had taken the manuscript home in the evening, and be- came so deeply interested in it as to sit up half the night to finish it, Mr. Smith's curiosity was sufficiently excited to prompt him to read it for himself ; and great as were the praises which had been bestowed upon it, he found that they had not exceeded the truth. 8 On its publication copies were presented to a few pri- vate literary friends. Their discernment had been rightly reckoned upon. They were of considerable standing in the world of letters; and one and all returned expressions of high praise along with their thanks for the book. Among them was the great writer of fiction for whom Miss Bronte felt so strong an admiration ; * he immediately appreciated and, in a characteristic note to the publishers, acknowledged its extraordinary merits. The Reviews were more tardy, or more cautious. The 1 Mr. William Smith Williams (1800-1875) was the literary adviser to the firm of Smith, Elder, & Co. for many years. From this time forward he became a regular correspondent of Miss Bronte, and the most interesting letters that she wrote — of those that have been pre- served — are addressed to him. This was partially due to the fact that he lent her books with considerable regularity, and thus provoked comment upon her reading. s The ' clear-headed Scotchman ' was Mr. James Taylor, who held a position of considerable responsibility in the firm of Smith, Elder, & Co., and whose name we meet many times in later pages. See note, p. 525. 8 'There will be no preface to Jape Eyre,' Miss Bronte writes to Smith, Elder, & Co. on October 39. ' If you send me six copies of the work they will be amply sufficient, and I shall be obliged to you for them.' 4 Thackeray. 1847 'JANE EYRE' 341 ' Athenaeum ' and the ' Spectator ' gave short notices, con- taining qualified admissions of the power of the author. The 'Literary Gazette ' was uncertain as to whether it was safe to praise an unknown author. The ' Daily News ' de- clined accepting the copy which had been sent, on the score of a rule 'never to review novels ;' but a little later on there appeared a notice of the ' Bachelor of the Albany' in that paper ; and Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co. again for- warded a copy of ' Jane Eyre ' to the editor, with a request for a notice. This time the work was accepted ; but I am not aware what was the character of the article upon it. 1 The ' Examiner ' came forward to the rescue, as far as the opinions of professional critics were concerned. The literary articles in that paper were always remarkable for their genial and generous appreciation of merit; nor was the notice of ' Jane Eyre ' an exception ; it was full of hearty yet delicate and discriminating praise. Otherwise the press in general did little to promote the sale of the novel ; the demand for it among librarians had begun be- fore the appearance of the review in the ' Examjner ;' the power and fascination of the tale itself made its merits known to thp public without the kindly finger-posts of professional criticism ; and early in December the rush began for copies. I will insert two or three of Miss Bronte's letters to her publishers/ in order to show how timidly the idea of suc- cess was received by one so unaccustomed to adopt a san- guine view of any subject in which she was individually 1 The magazines were sufficiently generous of praise. The sec- ond edition of Jane Eyre, published in 1848, contains seven pages of ' opinions of the press.' ' Decidedly the best novel of the season,' was the comment of the Westminster Review. ' Almost all that we require in a novelist the writer has — perception of character and power of de- lineating it, picturesqueness, passion, and knowledge of life,' was Mr. George Henry Lewes's estimate in Uvaser. 1 Almost simultaneously she was writing to Mr. Smith Williams, as the following letter indicates :— •October 4, 1847. 'Dear Sir,— I thank you sincerely for your last letter. It is valu- able to me because it furnishes me with a sound opinion on points re- 342 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE concerned. The occasions on which these notes were writ- ten will explain themselves. TO MESSES. SMITH, ELDER, AND CO. ' October 19, 1847. ' Gentlemen, — The six copies of " Jane Eyre " reached me this morning. Yon have given the work every advan- tage which good paper, clear type, and a seemly outside can supply : if it fails the fault will lie with the author ; you are exempt. ' I now await the judgment of the press and the public. — I am, Gentlemen, yours respectfully, C. Bell.' TO MESSES. SMITH, ELDER, AND CO. ' October 26, 1847. 'Gentlemen, — I have received the newspapers. They speak quite as favourably of "Jane Eyre" as I expected them to do. The notice in the '* Literary Gazette" seems certainly to have been indited in rather a flat mood, and the "Athenaeum" has a style of its own, which I respect, but cannot exactly relish ; still, when one considers that journals of that standing have a dignity to maintain which would be deranged by a too cordial recognition of the specting which I desired to be advised ; be assured I shall do what I can to profit by your wise and good counsel. ' Permit me, however, Sir, to caution you against forming too favour- able an idea of my powers, or too sanguine an expectation of what they can achieve. I am myself sensible both of deficiencies of capacity and disadvantages of circumstance which will, I fear, render it somewhat difficult for me to attain popularity as an author. The eminent writ- ers you mention — Mr. Thackeray, Mr. Dickens, Mrs. Marsh, &c. — doubtless enjoyed facilities for observation such as I have not ; cer- tainly they possess a knowledge of the world, whether intuitive or ac- quired, such as I can lay no claim to, and this gives their writings an importance and a variety greatly beyond what I can offer the public. ' Still, if health be spared and time vouchsafed me, I mean to do my best ; and should a moderate success crown my efforts its value will be greatly enhanced by the proof it will seem to give that your kind counsel and encouragement have not been bestowed on one quite un- worthy. — Yours respectfully, C. Bell.' 1847 : JANE EYRE' 343 claims of an obscure author, I suppose there is every rea- son to be satisfied. ' Meantime a brisk sale would be effectual support under the hauteur of lofty critics. — I am, Gentlemen, yours re- spectfully, C. Bell.' TO MESSRS. SMITH, ELDER, AtfD CO. ' Nov. 13, 1847. ' Gentlemen, — I have to acknowledge the receipt of yours of the 11th inst., and to thank you for the informa- tion it communicates. The notice from the "People's Journal" also duly reached me, and this morning I re- ceived the "Spectator." The critique in the "Spectator" gives that view of the book which will naturally be taken by a certain class of minds ; ' I shall expect it to be fol- lowed by other notices of a similar nature. The way to detraction has been pointed out, and will probably be pur- sued. Most future notices will in all likelihood have a re- flection of the "Spectator" in them. I fear this turn of opinion will not improve the demand for the book — but time will show. If " Jane Eyre " has any solid worth in it, it ought to weather a gust of unfavourable wind. — I am, Gentlemen, yours respectfully, C. Bell." TO MESSRS. SMITH, ELDER, AND CO. 'Nov 30, 1847. 'Gentlemen, — I have received the "Economist," but not the " Examiner ;" from some cause that paper has missed, 1 'The book,' says the Spectator, 'displays considerable skill in the plan, and great power, but rather shown in the writing than in the matter ; and its vigour sustains a species of interest to the last.' 2 On November 27 Miss Bronte writes to Mr. W. Smith Williams — ' Dear Sir, — Will you have the goodness in future to direct all com- munications to me to Ha worth, near Keigldey, instead of to Bradford f With this address they will, owing to alterations in' local post-office arrangements, reach me a day earlier than if sent by Bradford. I have received this week the Glasgow Examiner, the Bath Herald, and Douglas Jerrold's Newspaper. The Examiner, it appears, has not yet given a notice. I am, dear Sir, yours respectfully, C. Bell.' 344 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE as the " Spectator " did on a former occasion ; I am glad, however, to learn through your letter that its notice of " Jane Byre " was favourable, and also that the prospects of the work appear to improve. ' I am obliged to you for the information respecting .he was my first favourable critic; he first gave me encouragement to persevere as an author, consequently I naturally respect him and feel grateful to him. 'Excuse the informality of my letter, and believe me, gentlemen, yours respectfully, Cuekbr Bell.' There is little record remaining of the manner in which the first news of its wonderful success reached and affected the one heart of the three sisters. 1 I once asked Charlotte — we were talking about the description of Lowood School, and she was saying that she was not sure whether she should have written it if she had been aware how instantaneously it would have been identified with Cowan Bridge' — whether 1 Another letter of this period, hitherto unpublished, may be given here. The reference iB, of course, to Leigli Hunt's Jar of Honey from Mount Hybla, of which an early copy of the first edition must have been sent to Miss Bronte. The book was first published in 1848 : — TO MESSRS. SMITH, ELDER, AND CO. ' December 25, 1847. 'Gentlemen, — Permit me to thank you for your present, which reached me yesterday. I was not prepared for anything so truly taste- ful, and when I had opened the parcel, removed the various envelopes, and at last got a glimpse of the chastely attractive binding, I was most agreeably surprised. What is better, on examination I find the con- tents fully to answer the expectation excited by the charming exte- rior ; the Honey is quite as choice as the Jar is elegant. The illustra- tions too are very beautiful, some of them peculiarly so. I trust the public will show itself grateful for the pains you have taken to provide a book so appropriate to the season. C. Bell.' 3 ' Jane Eyre has got down into Yorkshire,' writes Miss Bronte to Mr. Williams under date January 4, 1848 ; ' a copy has even pene- trated into this neighbourhood. I saw an elderly clergyman reading it 346 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE the popularity to which the novel attained had taken her by surprise. She hesitated a little, and then said, 'I be- lieved that what had impressed me so forcibly when I wrote it must make a strong impression on any one who read it. I was not surprised at those who read "Jane Eyre" being deeply interested in it; but I hardly expected that a book by an unknown author could find readers.' The sisters had kept the knowledge of their literary vent- ures from their father, fearing to increase their own anx- ieties and disappointment by witnessing his ; for he took an acute interest in all that befell his children, and his own tendency had been towards literature in the days when he was young and hopeful. It was true he did not much manifest his feelings in words ; he would have thought that he was prepared for disappointment as the lot of man, and that he could have met it with stoicism; but words are poor and tardy interpreters of feelings to those who love one another, and his daughters knew how he would have borne ill-success worse for them than for himself. So they did not tell him what they were undertaking. He says now that he suspected it all along, but his suspicions could take no exact form, as all he was certain of was that his children were perpetually writing— and not writing letters. We have seen how the communications from their publishers were received 'under cover to Miss Bronte.' Once, Charlotte told me, they overheard the postman meeting Mr. Bronte, as the latter was leaving the house, and inquiring from the the other day, and had the satisfaction of hearing him exclaim, "Why, they have got School, and Mr. here, I declare ! and Miss " (naming the originals of Lowood, Mr. Brocklehurst and Miss Temple). He had known them all. I wondered whether he would recognise the portraits, and was gratified to find that he did, and that, moreover, he pronounced them faithful and just. He said, too, that Mr. (Brocklehurst) "deserved the chastisement he had got." ' He did not recognise Currer Bell. What author would be with- out the advantage of being able to walk invisible ? One is thereby enabled to keep such a quiet mind. I make this small observation in confidence.' 1847 RECEPTION OF : JANE EYRE' 347 parson where one Currer Bell could be living, to which Mr. Bronte replied that there was no such person in the par- ish. This must have been the misadventure to which Miss Bronte alludes in the beginning of her correspondence with Mr. Aylott. Now, however, when the demand for the work had assured success to ' Jane Byre,' her sisters urged Charlotte to tell their father of its publication. She accordingly went into his study one afternoon after his early dinner, carrying with her a copy of the book, and two or three re- views, taking care to include a notice adverse to it. She informed me that something like the following con- versation took place between her and him. (I wrote down her words the day after I heard them, and I am pretty sure they are quite accurate.) 'Papa, I've been writing a book.' * Have you, my dear ?' ' Yes ; and I want you to read it.' ' I am afraid it will try my eyes too much.' ' But it is not in manuscript ; it is printed.' ' My dear ! you've never thought of the expense it will be ! It will be almost sure to be a loss ; for how can you get a book sold ? No one knows you or your name.' ' But, papa, I don't think it will be a loss ; no more will you, if you will just let me read you a review or two, and tell you more about it.' So she sat down and read some of the reviews to her father ; and then, giving him the copy of 'Jane Eyre' that she intended for him, she left him to read it. When he came in to tea he said, ' Girls, do you know Charlotte has been writing a book, and it is much better than likely .?' But while the existence of Currer Bell, the author, was like a piece of a dream to the quiet inhabitants of Ha worth Parsonage, who went on with their uniform household life, their cares for their brother being its only variety — the whole reading world of England was in a ferment to dis- cover the unknown author. Even the publishers of - Jane 348 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Byre' were ignorant whether Currer Bell was a real or an assumed name, whether it belonged to a man or a woman. In every town people sought out the list of their friends and acquaintances, and turned away in disappointment. No one they knew had genius enough to be the author. Every little incident mentioned in the book was turned this way and that to answer, if possible, the much -vexed question of sex. All in vain. People were content to re- lax their exertions to satisfy their curiosity, and simply to sit down and greatly admire. I am not going to write an analysis of a book with which every one who reads this biography is sure to be acquainted ; much less a criticism upon a work which the great flood of public opinion has lifted up from the obscurity in which it first appeared, and laid high and safe on the everlasting hills of fame. Before me lies a packet of extracts from newspapers and periodicals, which Mr. Bronte has sent me. It is touching to look them over, and see how there is hardly any notice, however short and clumsily worded, in any obscure provin- cial paper, but what has been cut out and carefully ticketed with its date by the poor bereaved father — so proud when he first read them, so desolate now. For one and all are full of praise of this great unknown genius, which suddenly appeared amongst us. Conjecture as to the authorship ran about like wild-fire. People in London, smooth and pol- ished as the Athenians of old, and, like them, ' spending their time in nothing else but either to tell or to hear some new thing,' were astonished and delighted to find that a fresh sensation, a new pleasure, was in reserve for them in the uprising of an author capable of depicting with accurate and Titanic power the strong, self-reliant, racy, and indi- vidual characters which were not, after all, extinct species, but lingered still in existence in the North. They thought that there was some exaggeration mixed with the peculiar force of delineation. Those nearer to the spot, where the scene of the story was apparently laid, were sure, from the 1847 ADMIRATION FOR THACKERAY 349 very truth and accuracy of the writing, that the writer was no Southron; for though 'dark, and cold, and rugged is the North/ the old strength of the Scandinavian races yet abides there, and glowed out in every character depicted in 'Jane Eyre.' Further than this curiosity, both honourable and dishonourable, was at fault. When the second edition appeared, in the January of the following year, with the dedication to Mr. Thackeray, peo- ple looked at each other and wondered afresh. But Currer Bell knew no more of William Makepeace- Thackeray as an individual man— of his life, age, fortunes, or circumstances — than she did of those of Mr. Michael Angelo Titmarsh. 1 The one had placed his name as author upon the title-page of 'Vanity Fair,' the other had not. She was thankful for the opportunity of expressing her high admiration of a writer whom, as she says, she regarded 'as the social re- generator of his day — as the very master of that working corps who would restore to rectitude the warped state of things. . . . His wit is bright, his humour attractive, but both bear the same relation to his serious genius that the mere lambent sheet-lightning, playing under the edge of the summer cloud, does to the electric death-spark hid in its womb.' Anne Bronte had been more than usually delicate all the summer, and her sensitive spirit had been deeply affected 1 Thackeray sent Vanity Fair and Esmond to Miss Bronte, the first 'With the grateful regards of W. M. Thackeray, July 18, 1848,' the second inscribed, ' Miss Bronte, with W. M. Thackeray's grateful re- gards. October 28, 1852.' On October 28, 1847, Miss Bronte writes to Mr. Smith 'Williams, ' I feel honoured in being approved by Mr. Thackeray, because I approve Mr. Thackeray. This may sound pre- sumptuous perhaps, but I mean that I have long recognised in his writings genuine talent, such as I admired, such as I wondered at and delighted in. No author seems to distinguish so exquisitely as he does dross from ore, the real from the counterfeit. I believed too he had deep and true feelings under his seeming sternness. Now I am sure he has. One good word from such a man is worth pages of praise from ordinary judges.' 350 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE by the great anxiety of her home. But now that 'Jane iEyre' gave such indications of success Charlotte began to plan schemes of future pleasure — perhaps relaxation from care would be the more correct expression — for their dar- ling younger sister, the ' little one ' of the household. But, although Anne was cheered for a time by Charlotte's suc- cess, the fact was that neither her spirits nor her bodily strength were such as to incline her to much active ex- ertion, and she led far too sedentary a life, continually stooping either over her book, or work, or at her desk. ' It is with difficulty/ writes her sister, ' that we can pre- vail upon her to take a walk, or induce her to converse. I look forward to next summer with the confident intention that she shall, if possible, make at least a brief sojourn at the seaside.' In this same letter is a sentence telling how dearly home, even with its present terrible drawback, lay at the roots of her heart ; but it is too much blended with reference to the affairs of others to bear quotation. Any author of a successful novel is liable to an inroad of letters from unknown readers, containing commendation — sometimes of so fulsome and indiscriminating a character as to remind the recipient of Dr. Johnson's famous speech to one who offered presumptuous and injudicious praise — sometimes saying merely a few words, which have power to stir the heart ' as with the sound of a trumpet/ and in the high humility they excite to call forth strong resolutions to make all future efforts worthy of such praise; and occa- sionally containing that true appreciation of both merits and demerits, together with the sources of each, which forms the very criticism and help for which an inexperi- enced writer thirsts. Of each of these kinds of communi- cation Currer Bell received her full share; and her warm heart, and true sense and high standard of what she aimed at, affixed to each its proper value. Among other letters of hers some to Mr. G. H. Lewes ' have been kindly placed 1 George Henry Lewes (1817-1878). Published Biographical Eis- 1847 CORRESPONDENCE 351 by him at my service ; and, as I know Miss Bronte highly prized his letters of encouragement and advice, I shall give extracts from her replies, as their dates occur, because they will indicate the kind of criticism she valued, and also be- cause throughout, in anger as in agreement and harmony, they show her character, unblinded by any self -flattery, full of clear-sighted modesty as to what she really did well, and what she failed in, grateful for friendly interest, and only sore and irritable when the question of sex in author- ship was, as she thought, roughly or unfairly treated. As to the rest, the letters speak for themselves, to those who know how to listen, far better than I can interpret their meaning into my poorer and weaker words. Mr. Lewes has politely sent me the following explanation of that let- ter of his to which the succeeding one of Miss Bronte is a reply :— ' When " Jane Byre " first appeared, the publishers courteously sent me a copy. The enthusiasm with which I read it made me go down to Mr. Parker, and propose to write a review of it for " Eraser's Magazine." He would not consent to an unknown novel — for the papers had not yet declared themselves — receiving such importance, but thought it might make one on " Recent Novels : English and French," which appeared in " Praser," December 1847. Meanwhile I had written to Miss Bronte to tell her the delight with which her book filled me ; and seem to have " sermonised " her, to judge from her reply.' TO G. H. LEWES, ESQ. ' November 6, 1847. ' Dear Sir, — Your letter reached me yesterday. I beg to assure you that I appreciate fully the intention with which it was written, and I thank you sincerely both for its cheer- ful commendation and valuable advice. tory of Philosophy, 1845-6 ; BantJiorpe, 1847 ; Rose, Blanche and Violet, 1848 ; Life of Goethe, 1855 ; Problems of Life and Mind, 1873-79, and many other works. 352 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' You warn me to beware of melodrama, and yon exhort me to adhere to the real. When I first began to write, so impressed was I with the truth of the principles yon advo- cate, that I determined to take Nature and Truth as my sole guides, and to follow to their very footprints ; I re- strained imagination, eschewed romance, repressed excite- ment ; over-bright colouring, too, I avoided, and sought to produce something which should be soft, grave, and true. ' My work (a tale in one volume) being completed, I offered it to a publisher. He said it was original, faithful to nature, but he did not feel warranted in accepting it ; such a work would not sell. I tried six publishers in suc- cession ; they all told me it was deficient in " startling incident " and " thrilling excitement," that it would never suit the circulating libraries, and as it was on those libra- ries the success of works of fiction mainly depended, they could not undertake to publish what would be overlooked there. ' " Jane Eyre " was rather objected to at first, on the same grounds, but finally found acceptance. ' I mention this to you, not with a view of pleading ex- emption from censure, but in order to direct your atten- tion to the root of certain literary evils. It, in your forth- coming article in " Fraser," you would bestow a few words of enlightenment on the public who support the circulat- ing libraries, you might, with your powers, do some good. ' You advise me, too, not to stray far from the ground of experience, as I become weak when I enter the region of fiction ; and you say " real experience is perennially inter- esting, and to all men." ' I feel that this also is true ; but, dear sir, is not the real experience of each individual very limited ? And, if a writer dwells upon that solely or principally, is he not in danger of repeating himself, and also of becoming an ego- tist ? Then, too, imagination is a strong, restless faculty, which claims to be heard and exercised : are we to be quite deaf to her cry, and insensate to her struggles ? When 1847 CORRESPONDENCE 353 she shows us bright pictures, are we never to look at them, and try to reproduce them ? And when she is eloquent, and speaks rapidly and urgently in our ear, are we not to write to her dictation ? 'I shall anxiously search the next number of "Fraser" for your opinions on these points. Believe me, dear sir, yours gratefully, C. Bell.' But while gratified by appreciation as an author she was cautious as to the person from whom she received it ; for much of the value of the praise depended on the sincerity and capability of the person rendering it. Accordingly she applied to Mr. Williams (a gentleman connected with her publishers' firm) for information as to who and what Mr. Lewes was. Her reply, after she had learnt something of the character of her future critic, and while awaiting his criticism, must not be omitted. Besides the reference to him it contains some amusing allusions to the perplexity which began to be excibed respecting the 'identity of the brothers Bell,' and some notice of the conduct of another publisher towards her sister, which I refrain from charac- terising, because I understand that truth is considered a libel in speaking of such people. TO W. S. WILLIAMS, ESQ. ' November 10, 1847. 'Dear Sir, — I have received the "Britannia" and the "Sun," but not the "Spectator," which I rather regret, as censure, though not pleasant, is often wholesome. ' Thank you for your information regarding Mr. Lewes. I am glad to hear that he is a clever and sincere man : such being the case, I can await his critical sentence with forti- tude ; even if it goes against me I shall not murmur ; abil- ity and honesty have a right to condemn, where they think condemnation is deserved. From what you say, however, I trust rather to obtain at lea.st a modified approval. 'Your account of the various surmises respecting the 23 354 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE identity of the brothers Bell amused me much : were the enigma solved it would probably be found not worth the trouble of solution ; but I will let it alone : it suits ourselves to remain quiet, and certainly injures no one else. ' The reviewer who noticed the little book of poems, in the "Dublin Magazine," conjectured that the soi-disant three personages were in reality but one, who, endowed with an unduly prominent organ of self-esteem, and conse- quently impressed with a somewhat weighty notion of his own merits, thought them too vast to be concentrated in a single individual, and, accordingly divided himself into three, out of consideration, I suppose, for the nerves of the much -to -be -astounded public ! This was an ingenious thought in the reviewer — very original and striking, but not accurate. "We are three. 'A prose work, by Ellis and Acton, will soon appear : it should have been out, indeed, long since ; for the first proof sheets were already in the press at the commencement of last August, before Ourrer Bell had placed the MS. of "Jane Byre" in your hands. Mr. Newby, however, does not do business like Messrs. Smith and Elder; a different spirit seems to preside at Mortimer Street to that which guides the helm at 65 Cornhill. . . . My relations have suffered from exhausting delay and procrastination, while I have to acknowledge the benefits of a management at once business-like and gentleman-like, energetic and con- siderate. ' I should like to know if Mr. Newby 1 often acts as he has 1 Thomas Cautley Newby carried on business as a publisher, first at 72 Mortimer Street, Cavendish Square, whence the Bronte books were issued, and afterwards, from 1850 to 1874, at 30 Welbeck Street. Mrs. Riddell, the novelist, has described Mr. Newby as 'a spare man of middle height, who used to " travel" round to the country libraries.' ' He did not,' she says, ' stand well as a publisher. One of his brothers said to me, " Were I you, I should not say that Newby bad published anything for me." ' It is not the least humorous aspect of Newby's mysterious career that Emily Bronte's Withering Heights shocked him greatly. 1847 CORRESPONDENCE 355 done to my relations, or whether this is an exceptional in- stance of his method. Do yon know, and can you tell me anything about him ? You must excuse me for going to the point at once, when I want to learn anything: if my ques- tions are impertinent you are, of course, at liberty to decline answering them. — I am yours respectfully, C. Bell.' TO G. H. LEWES, ESQ. ' November 22, 1847. 'Dear Sir, — I have now read "Ranthorpe." I could not get it till a day or two ago ; but I have got it and read it at last ; and in reading " Ranthorpe " I have read a new book — not a reprint — not a reflection of any other book, but a new look. 'I did not know such books were written now. It is very different to any of the popular works of fiction: it fills the mind with fresh knowledge. Your experience and your convictions are made the reader's ; and to an author, at leastj they have a value and an interest quite unusual. I await your criticism on "Jane Eyre" now with other sentiments than I entertained before the perusal of " Ran- thorpe." ' You were a stranger to me. I did not particularly re- spect you. I did not feel that your praise or blame would have any special weight. I knew little of your right to condemn or approve. Now I am informed on these points. ' You will be severe ; your last letter taught me as much. Well ! I shall try to extract good out of your se- verity ; and besides, though I am now sure you are a just, discriminating man, yet, being mortal, you must be falli- ble ; and if any part of your censure galls me too keenly to the quick — gives me deadly pain — I shall for the pres- ent disbelieve it, and put it quite aside, till such time as I feel able to receive it without torture. — I am, dear sir, yours very respectfully, C. Bell.' In December 1847 'Wuthering Heights' and 'Agnes 356 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Grey' appeared. 1 The first named of these stories has revolted many readers by the power with which wicked and exceptional characters are depicted. Others, again, have felt the attraction of remarkable genius, even when displayed on grim and terrible criminals. Miss Bronte herself says, with regard to this tale, ' Where delineation of human character is concerned the case is different. I am bound to avow that she had scarcely more practical knowledge of the peasantry amongst whom she lived than a nun has of the country people that pass her convent gates. My sister's disposition was not naturally gregari- ous : circumstances favoured and fostered her tendency to seclusion ; except to go to church, or to take a walk on the hills, she rarely crossed the threshold of home. Though her feeling for the people round her was benevo- lent, intercourse with them she never sought, nor, with very few exceptions, ever experienced ; and yet she knew them, knew their ways, their language, their family his- tories ; she could hear of them with interest, and talk of them with detail, minute, graphic, and accurate ; but with them she rarely exchanged a word. Hence it ensued that what her mind had gathered of the real concerning them was too exclusively confined to those tragic and terrible traits df which, in listening to the secret annals of every rude vicinage, the memory is sometimes compelled to receive the impress. Her imagination, which was a spirit more sombre than sunny — more powerful than sportive — found in such traits material whence it wrought creations like Heathcliff, like Earnshaw, like Catherine. Having formed these beings, she did not know what she had done. If the auditor of her work, when read in manuscript, shuddered 1 The book containing Wuthering Heights and Agnes Grey was in three volumes. The title-pages ran as follows : — 'Wuthering Heights: a Novel. By Ellis Bell. Vol.1. (Vol. II.) London: Thomas Cautley Newby, Publisher, 72 Mortimer St., Coven- dishSq. 1847.' ' Agnes Grey : a Novel. By Acton Bell. Vol. III. Lon- don: Thomas Oautley Newby, 72 Mortimer St., Cavendish Sq., 1847.' 1848 DOMESTIC DISTRESS 357 under the grinding influence of natures so relentless and implacable, of spirits so lost and fallen ; if it was com- plained that the mere hearing of certain vivid and fearful scenes banished sleep by night, and disturbed mental peace by day, Ellis Bell would wonder what was meant, and sus- pect the complainant of affectation. Had she but lived, her mind would of itself have grown like a strong tree — loftier, straighter, wider-spreading — and its matured fruits would have attained a mellower ripeness and sunnier bloom ; but on that mind time and experience alone could work ; to the influence of other intellects it was not amenable. Whether justly or unjustly, the productions of the two younger Miss Brontes were not received with much favour at the time of their publication. ' Critics failed to do them justice. The immature, but very real, powers revealed in "Wuthering Heights" were scarcely recognised; its im- port and nature were misunderstood ; the identity of its author was misrepresented : it was said that this was an earlier and ruder attempt of the same pen which had pro- duced "Jane Byre."' . . . 'Unjust and grievous error! We laughed at it at first, but I deeply lament it now.' Henceforward Charlotte Bronte's existence becomes di- vided into two parallel currents — her life as Currer Bell, the author ; her life as Charlotte Bronte, the woman. There were separate duties belonging to each character — not opposing each other ; not impossible, but difficult to be reconciled. When a man becomes an author, it is prob- ably merely a change of employment to him. He takes a portion of that time which has hitherto been devoted to some other study or pursuit; he gives up something of the legal or medical profession, in which he has hitherto endeavoured to serve others, or relinquishes part of the trade or business by which he has been striving to gain a livelihood ; and another merchant, or lawyer, or doctor, steps into his vacant place, and probably does as well as he. But no other can take up the quiet regular duties of the daughter, the wife, or the mother, as well as she whom 358 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE God has appointed to fill that particular place : a woman's principal work in life is hardly left to her own choice ; nor can she drop the domestic charges devolving on her as an individual, for the exercise of the most splendid talents that were ever bestowed. And yet she must not shrink from the extra responsibility implied by the very fact of her possessing such talents. She must not hide her gift in a napkin ; it was meant for the use and service of others. In a humble and faithful spirit must she labour to do what is not impossible, or God would not have set her to do it. I put into words what Charlotte Bronte put into actions. The year 1848 opened with sad domestic distress. It is necessary, however painful, to remind the reader constant- ly of what was always present to the hearts of father and sisters at this time. It is well that the thoughtless critics, who spoke of the sad and gloomy views of life presented by the Brontes in their tales, should know how such words were wrung out of them by the living recollection of the long agony they suffered. It is well, too, that they who have objected to the representation of coarseness, and shrunk from it with repugnance, as if such conceptions arose out of the writers, should learn that not from the imagination — not from internal conception — but from the hard, cruel facts, pressed down, by external life, upon their very senses, for long months and years together, did they write out what they saw, obeying the stern dictates of their con- sciences. They might be mistaken. They might err in writing at all, when their afflictions were so great that they could not write otherwise than they did of life. It is possible that it would have been better to have described only good and pleasant people, doing only good and pleas- ant things (in which case they could hardly have written at any time) ; all I say is, that never, I believe, did women, possessed of such wonderful gifts, exercise them with a fuller feeling of responsibility for their use. As to mis- takes, they stand now — as authors as well as women — be- fore the judgment seat of God. 1848 LETTER TO MR. LEWES 359 'January 11, 1848. ' We have not been very comfortable here at home late- ly. Branwell has, by some means, contrived to get more money, from the old quarter, and has led us a sad life with his absurd and often intolerable conduct. Papa is harassed day and night; we have little peace; he is always sick; 1 has two or three times fallen down in fits; what will be the ultimate end God knows. But who is without their drawback, their scourge, their skeleton behind the curtain ? It remains only to do one's best, and endure with patience what God sends.' I suppose that she had read Mr. Lewes's review on ' Re- cent Novels,' when it appeared in the December of the last year, but I find no allusion to it till she writes to him on January 12, 1848. ' Dear Sir, — I thank you, then, sincerely for your gener- ous review ; and it is with the sense of double content I express my gratitude, because I am now sure the tribute is not superfluous or obtrusive. You were not severe on "Jane Eyre ;" you were very lenient. I am glad you told me my faults plainly in private, for in your public notice you touch on them so lightly, I should perhaps have passed them over, thus indicated, with too little reflection. ' I mean to observe your warning about being careful how I undertake new works ; my stock of materials is not abundant, but very slender ; and, besides, neither my ex- perience, my acquirements, nor my powers are sufficiently varied to justify my ever becoming a frequent writer. I tell you this because your article in " Fraser " left in me an uneasy impression that you were disposed to think better of the author of " Jane Eyre " than that indi- vidual deserved; and I would rather you had a correct than a flattering opinion of me, even though I should never see you. 1 In the original letter it runs, 'he (B.) is always sick.' 360 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' If I ever do write another book, I think I will have nothing of what yon call " melodrama ;" I think so, but I am not sure. I think, too, I will endeavour to follow the counsel which shines out of Miss Austen's "mild eyes," " to finish more and be more subdued ;" but neither am I sure of that. When authors write best, or, at least, when they write most fluently, an influence seems to waken in them, which becomes their master — which will have its own way — putting out of view all behests but its own, dic- tating certain words, and insisting on their being used, whether vehement or measured in their nature; new- moulding characters, giving unthought-of turns to inci- dents, rejecting carefully elaborated old ideas, and suddenly creating and adopting new ones. ' Is it not so ? And should we try to counteract this in- fluence ? Can we indeed counteract it ? 'I am glad that another work of yours will soon appear; most curious shall I be to see whether you will write up to your own principles, and work out your own theories. You did not do it altogether in "Ranthorpe" — at least not in the latter part ; but the first portion was, I think, nearly without fault ; then it had a pith, truth, significance in it which gave the book sterling value; but to write so one must have seen and known a great deal, and I have seen and known very little. ' Why do you like Miss Austen so very much ? I am puzzled on that point. What induced you to say that you would have rather written "Pride and Prejudice" or "Tom Jones," than any of the Waverley Novels ? 'I had not seen " Pride and Prejudice," till I read that sentence of yours, and then I got the book. And what did I find ? An accurate daguerreotyped -portrait of a com- mon-place face ; a carefully fenced, highly cultivated gar- den, with neat borders and delicate flowers ; but no glance of a bright, vivid physiognomy, no open country, no fresh air, no blue hill, no bonny beck. I should hardly like to live with her ladies and gentlemen, in their elegant but 1848 MR. G. H. LEWES 361 confined houses. These observations will probably irritate you, but I shall run the risk. ' Now I can understand admiration of George Sand ; for though I never saw any of her works which I admired throughout (even " Consuelo," which is the best, or the best that I have read, appears to me to couple strange ex- travagance with wondrous excellence), yet she has a grasp of mind which, if I cannot fully comprehend, I can very deeply respect : she is sagacious and profound ; Miss Aus- ten is only shrewd and observant. 'Am I wrong ; or were you hasty in what you said? If you have time I should be glad to hear further on this sub- ject ; if not, or if you think the question frivolous, do not trouble yourself to reply. — I am yours respectfully, '0. Bell.' to g. h. lewes, esq. ' January 18, 1848. ' Dear Sir, — I must write one more note, though I had not intended to trouble you again so soon. I have to agree with you, and to differ from you. 'You correct my crude remarks on the subject of the " influence ;" well, I accept your definition of what the effects of that influence should be ; I recognise the wisdom of your rules for its regulation. . . . ' What a strange lecture comes next in your letter! You say I must familiarise my mind with the fact that " Miss Austen is not a poetess, has no ' sentiment ' " (you scorn- fully enclose the word in inverted commas), "no elo- quence, none of the ravishing enthusiasm of poetry ;" and then you add, I must "learn to acknowledge her as one of the greatest artists, of the greatest painters of human char- acter, and one of the writers with the nicest sense of means to an end that ever lived." ' The last point only will I ever acknowledge. ' Can there be a great artist without poetry ? * What I call — what I will bend to, as a great artist, then — cannot be destitute of the divine gift. But by poetry, I i. 362 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE am sure, yon understand something different to what I do, as you do by " sentiment." It is poetry, as I comprehend the word, which elevates that masculine George Sand, and makes out of something coarse something godlike. It is ' ' sentiment," in my sense of the term — sentiment jealously hidden, but genuine, which extracts the venom from that formidable Thackeray, and converts what might be corro- sive poison into purifying elixir. 'If Thackeray did not cherish in his large heart deep feeling for his kind, he would delight to exterminate ; as it is, I believe, he wishes only to reform. Miss Austen being, as you say, without "sentiment," without poetry, maybe is sensible, real (more real than true), but she can- not be great. ' I submit to your anger, which I have now excited (for have I not questioned the perfection of your darling ?) ; the storm may pass over me. Nevertheless I will, when I can (I do not know when that will be, as I have no access to a circulating library), diligently peruse all Miss Austen's works, as you recommend. . . . You must forgive me for not always being able to think as you do, and still believe me yours gratefully, C. Bell.' I have hesitated a little before inserting the following extract from a letter to Mr. Williams, but it is strikingly characteristic ; and the criticism contained in it is, from that circumstance, so interesting (whether we agree with it or not) that I have determined to do so, though I thereby displace the chronological order of the letters, in order to complete this portion of a correspondence which is very valuable, as showing the purely intellectual side of her character. 1 1 The following letters, addressed to her publishers, come here by right of date : — 'February 17, 1848. ' I have received your letter and its enclosure — a bank bill for 1001. — for which I thank you. Your conduct to me has been such that you 1848 MR. G. H. LEWES 363 TO W. S. WILLIAMS, ESQ. ' April 26, 1848. 'My dear Sir, — I have now read "Rose, Blanche, and Violet," and I will tell you, as well as I can, what I think of it. Whether it is an improvement on "Ranthorpe" I do not know, for I liked " Ranthorpe " much ; but, at any rate, it contains more of a good thing. I find in it the same power, but more fully developed. ' The author's character is seen in every page, which makes the book interesting — far more interesting than any story could do ; but it is what the writer himself says that attracts, far more than what he puts into the mouths of his characters. Gr. H. Lewes is, to my perception, decidedly the most original character in the book. . . . The didactic passages seem to me the best — far the best — in the work ; very acute, very profound, are some of the views there given, and very clearly they are offered to the reader. He is a just thinker ; he is a sagacious observer ; there is wisdom in his theory, and, I doubt not, energy in his practice. But cannot doubt my relatives would have been most happy, had it been in their power to avail themselves of your proposal respecting the pub- lication of their future works, but their present engagements to Mr. Newby are such as to prevent their consulting freely their own in- clinations and interests, and I need not tell you, who have so clearly proved the weight honour has with you as a principle of action, that engagements must be respected whether they are irksome or not. For my own part I peculiarly regret this circumstance.' ' April 20, 1848. 'I have received the parcel containing Mr. Lewes's new work, and a copy of the third edition of Jane Eyre*.- Accept my sincere thanks for your kind present. ' If the circumstance of a gift being at once unexpected and accept- able can enhance its value, I assure you this is valuable to me. The only drawback to my pleasure in receiving it is, that I think I should have purchased it, and not have had it given to me ; but I will not dis- pute the point with your generosity ; there are cases where it is ungra- cious to decline an obligation ; I will endeavour to suppose this one. 'I trust the third edition of Jangjiyre will go off well. Mr. Lewes's work, I do not doubt, will prosper.' 364 LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BRONTE why, then, are you often provoked with him while yon read ? How does he manage, while teaching, to make his hearer feel as if his business was, not quietly to receive the doctrines propounded, but to~combat them ? You acknowl- edge that he offers yon gems of pure truth : why do you keep perpetually scrutinising them for flaws ? 'Mr. Lewes, I divine, with all his talents and honesty, must have some faults of manner ; there must be a touch too much of dogmatism : a dash extra of confidence in him, sometimes. This you think while you are reading the book; but when yon have closed it and laid it down, and sat a few minutes collecting your thoughts, and settling your impres- sions, you find the idea or feeling predominant in your mind to be pleasure at the fuller acquaintance you have made with a fine mind and a true heart, with high abilities and manly principles. I hope he will not be long ere he publishes another book. His emotional scenes are some- what too uniformly vehement : would not a more subdued style of treatment often have produced a more masterly ef- fect ? Now and then Mr. Lewes takes a French pen into his hand, wherein he differs from Mr. Thackeray, who al- ways uses an English quill. However, the French pen does not far mislead Mr. Lewes ; he wields it with British muscles. All honour to him for the excellent general ten- dency of his book ! ' He gives no charming picture of London literary society, and especially the female part of it ; but all coteries, whether they be literary, scientific, political, or religious, must, it seems to me, have a tendency to change truth into affecta- tion. When people belong to a clique, they must, I sup- pose, in some measure, write, talk, think, and live for that clique ; a harassing and narrowing necessity. I trust the press and the public show themselves disposed to give the book the reception it merits ; and that is a very cordial one, far beyond anything due to aBulwer orD'Israeli production.' Let us return from Currer Bell to Charlotte Bronte. The 1848 UNSANITARY STATE OF HA WORTH 365 winter in Hawortk had been a sickly season. Influenza had prevailed amongst the villagers, and where there was a real need for the presence of the clergyman's daughters they were never found wanting, although they were shy of be- stowing mere social visits on the parishioners. They had themselves suffered from the epidemic ; Anne severely, as in her case it had been attended with cough and fever enough to make her elder sisters very anxious about her. There is no doubt that the proximity of the crowded churchyard rendered the Parsonage unhealthy, and oc- casioned much illness to its inmates. Mr. Bronte repre- sented the unsanitary state of Haworth pretty forcibly to the Board of Health ; and, after the requisite visits from their officers, obtained a recommendation that all future interments in the churchyard should be forbidden, a new graveyard opened on the hillside, and means set on foot for obtaining a water supply to each house, instead of the weary, hard-worked housewives having to carry every bucketful from a distance of several hundred yards up a steep street. But he was baffled by the ratepayers ; as, in many a similar instance, quantity carried it against quality ,- numbers against intelligence. And thus we find that illness often assumed a low typhoid form in Haworth, and fevers of various kinds visited the place with sad frequency. In February 1848 Louis Philippe was dethroned. The quick succession of events at that time called forth the fol- lowing expression of Miss Bronte's thoughts on the subject, in a letter addressed to Miss Wooler, and dated March 31: — ' I remember well wishing my lot had been cast in the troubled times of the late war, and seeing in its exciting incidents a kind of stimulating charm, which it made my pulse beat fast to think of : I remember even, I think, being a little impatient that you would not fully sympathise with my feelings on those subjects ; that you heard my as- pirations and speculations very tranquilly, and by no means seemed to think the flaming swords could be any pleasant 366 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE addition to Paradise. I have now outlived youth ; and though I dare not say that I have outlived all its illusions — that the romance is quite gone from life — the veil fallen from truth, and that I see both in naked reality — yet cer- tainly many things are not what they were ten years ago ; and, amongst the rest, " the pomp and circumstance of war " have quite lost in my eyes their fictitious glitter. I have still no doubt that the shock of moral earthquakes wakens a vivid sense of life, both in nations and individuals; that the fear of dangers on a broad national scale diverts men's minds momentarily from brooding over small private perils, and for the time gives them something like large- ness of views ; but as little doubt have I that convulsive revolutions put back the world in all that is good, check civilisation, bring the dregs of society to its surface ; in short, it appears to me that insurrections and battles are the acute diseases of nations, and that their tendency is to exhaust, by their violence, the vital energies of the coun- tries where they occur. That England may be spared the spasms, cramps, and frenzy fits now contorting the Conti- nent, and threatening Ireland, I earnestly pray. With the French and Irish I have no sympathy. With the Ger- mans and Italians I think the case is different ; as differ- ent as the love of freedom is from the lust for license.' Her birthday came round. She wrote to the friend whose birthday was within a week of hers ; wrote the ac- customed letter : but reading it with our knowledge of what she had done, we perceive the difference between her thoughts and what they were a year or two ago, when she said, 'I have done nothing.' There must have been a modest consciousness of having 'done something' present in her mind, as she wrote this year — 'I am now thirty-two. 1 Youth is gone — gone — and will 1 This letter to Ellen Nussey is dated April 22, 1848. Charlotte Bronte's birthday was April 21 . 1848 REPUDIATION OF AUTHORSHIP 367 never come back : can't help it. . . . It seems to me that sorrow must come some time to everybody, and those who scarcely taste it in their youth often have a more brim- ming and bitter cup to drain in after life ; whereas those who exhaust the dregs early, who drink the lees before the wine, may reasonably hope for more palatable draughts to succeed.' The authorship of - Jaiie^Ejre ' was as yet a close secret in the Bronte family ; not even this friend, who was all but a sister, knew more about it than the rest of the world. She might conjecture, it is true, both from her knowledge of previous habits and from the suspicious fact of the proofs having been corrected at B(rookroyd), that some literary project was afoot ; but she knew noth- ing, and wisely said nothing, until she heard a report from others that Charlotte Bronte was an author — had published a novel ! Then she wrote to her, and received the two following letters ; confirmatory enough, as it seems to me now, in their very vehemence and agitation of in- tended denial of the truth of the report : — ' April 28, 1848. ' Write another letter, and explain that last note of yours distinctly. If your allusions are to myself, which I sup- pose they are, understand this : I have given no one a right to gossip about me, and am not to be judged by frivo- lous conjectures, emanating from any quarter whatever. Let me know what you heard, and from whom you heard it.' ' May 3, 1848. ' All I can say to you about a certain matter is this : the report — if report there be — and if the lady, who seems to have been rather mystified, had not dreamt what she fan- cied had been told to her — must have had its origin in some absurd misunderstanding. I have given no one a right either to affirm or to hint, in the most distant man- ner, that I am "publishing" (humbug!) Whoever has 368 LIFE OF CHAKLOTTE BRONTE said it — if any one has, which I doubt — is no friend of mine. Though twenty books were ascribed to me, I should own none. I scout the idea utterly. Whoever, after I have distinctly rejected the charge, urges it upon me will do an unkind and ill-bred thing. The most profound ob- scurity is infinitely preferable to vulgar notoriety ; and that notoriety I neither seek nor will have. If, then, any B — an or G — an 1 should presume to bore you on the subject — to ask you what "novel" Miss Bronte has been "publishing," you can just say, with the distinct firmness of which you are perfect mistress when you choose, that you are author- ised by Miss Bronte to say that she repels and disowns every accusation of the kind. You may add, if you please, that if any one has her confidence you believe you have, and she has made no drivelling confessions to you on the subject. I am at a loss to conjecture from what source this rumour has come; and, I fear, it has far from a friendly origin. I am not certain, however, and I should be very glad if I could gain certainty. Should you hear any- thing more, please let me know. Your offer of " Simeon's Life " is a very kind one, and I thank you for it. I dare say papa would like to see the work very much, as he knew Mr. Simeon. 5 Laugh or scold A out of the pub- lishing notion ; and believe me, through all chances and changes, whether calumniated or let alone, yours faithfully, 'C. Bronte.' The reason why Miss Bronte was so anxious to preserve her secret was, I am told, that she had pledged her word to her sisters that it should not be revealed through her. The dilemmas attendant on the publication of the sisters' novels, under assumed names, were increasing upon them. 1 ' Any Birstallian or Gomersalian ' in original letter. 2 Charles Simeon (1759-1836), an eminent Evangelical divine of the Church of England. He was a Fellow of King's College, Cambridge, and hence Mr. Bronte's acquaintance with him. He would also be known to him as the patron of the living of Bradford Parish Church, of which Haworth is a chapelry. 1848 SUSPICIONS OF THE CRITICS 369 Many critics insisted on believing that all the fictions pub- lished as by three Bells were the works of one author, but written at different periods of his development and ma- turity. No doubt this suspicion affected the reception of the books. Ever since the completion of Anne Bronte's tale of 'Agnes Grey' she had been labouring at a second, 'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.' It is little known; the subject — the deterioration of a character, whose profligacy and ruin took their rise in habits of intemperance, so slight as to be only considered 'good fellowship' — was painfully discordant to one who would fain have sheltered herself from all but peaceful and religious ideas. ' She had ' (says her sister of that gentle 'little one'), 'in the course of her life, been called on to contemplate near at hand, and for a long time, the terrible effects of talents misused and faculties abused ; hers was naturally a sensitive, reserved, and dejected nature ; what she saw sank very deeply into her mind ; it did her harm. She brooded over it till she believed it to be a duty to reproduce every detail (of course with fictitious characters, incidents, and situations), as a warning to others. She hated her work, but would pursue it. When reasoned with on the subject she regarded such reasonings as a temptation to self-indulgence. She must be honest ; she must not varnish, soften, or conceal. This well-meant resolution brought on her misconstruction, and some abuse, which she bore, as it was her custom to bear whatever was unpleasant, with mild, steady patience. She was a very sincere and practical Christian, but the tinge of religious melancholy communicated a sad shade to her brief blameless life.' In the June of this year ' The Tenant of Wildfell Hall" 1 ' The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. By Acton Bell. In three Volumes. London: T. 0. Newby, Publisher. 72 Mortimer St., Cavendish Sq. 1848.' The book went into a second edition the same year, and to this edition Anne Bronte contributed a 'Preface,' in which she said, 'Ke- specting the author's identity, I would have it to be distinctly under- stood that Acton Bell is neither Currer nor Ellis Bell, and therefore let not his faults be attributed to them.' 370 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE was sufficiently near its completion to be submitted to theper- son who had previously published for Ellis and Acton Bell. 1 In consequence of his mode of doing business, consider- able annoyance was occasioned both to Miss Bronte and to them. The circumstances, as detailed in a letter of hers to a friend in New Zealand, were these : — One morning, at the beginning of July, a communication was received at the Parsonage from Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co. which disturbed its quiet inmates not a little, as, though the matter brought under their notice was merely referred to as one which affected their literary reputation, they con- ceived it to have a bearing likewise upon their character. ' Jane JEyre ' had had a great ran in America, and a pub- lisher there had consequently bid high for early sheets of the next work by 'Currer Bell.' These Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co. had promised to let him have. He was there- fore greatly astonished, and not well pleased, to learn that a similar agreement had been entered into with another American house, and that the new tale was very shortly to appear. It turned out, upon inquiry, that the mistake had originated in Acton and Ellis Bell's publisher having as- sured this American house that, to the best of his belief, 'Jane Eyre,' 'Wuthering Heights,' and 'The Tenant of Wildf ell Hall ' (which he pronounced superior to either of the other two) were all written by the same author. 1 Here is a letter addressed to Mr. George Smith, of Smith, Elder, & Co. It is dated Jane 15, 1848 :— ' Mirdbeau reached me this morning ; this is the third valuable and interesting work I have received from your hands ; such often-repeated kindness leaves me at a loss for words in which to express my sense of it. Not being ingenious enough to coin new terms of acknowledg- ment, I must even have recourse to the old ones, and repeat once more, "I thank you." ' Mirabeau being one of the most remarkable characters of a remark- able era, I look forward to the perusal of his life with much interest. I should think the two portraits given are excellent ; they both seem full of character, rendering the strong, striking physiognomy of the original with most satisfactory effect.' 1848 CITRRER AND ACTON BELL IN LONDON 371 Though Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co. distinctly stated in their letter that they did not share in such 'belief/ the sisters were impatient till they had shown its utter ground- lessness, and set themselves perfectly straight. With rapid decision they resolved that Charlotte and Anne should start for London that very day, in order to prove their separate identity to Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co., and demand from the credulous publisher his reasons for a ' belief ' so directly at variance with an assurance which had several times been given to him. Having arrived at this determination, they made their preparations with resolute promptness. There were many household duties to be performed that day ; but they were all got through. The two sisters each packed up a change of dress in a small box, which they sent down to Keighley by an opportune cart ; and after early tea they set off to walk thither — no doubt in some excitement ; for, independently of the cause of their going to London, it was Anne's first visit there. A great thunderstorm overtook them on their way that summer evening to the station ; but they had no time to seek shelter. They only just caught the train at Keighley, arrived at Leeds, and were whirled up by the night train to London. About eight o'clock on the Saturday morning they ar- rived at the Chapter Coffee-house, 1 Paternoster Row — a strange pkce, but they did not well know where else to go. They refreshed themselves by washing, and had some breakfast. Then they sat still for a few minutes, to con- sider what next should be done. , When they had been discussing their project in the quiet 'The Chapter Coffee-house, at the west corner of Paul's Alley, Paternoster Row, -was noted in the last century as the place of meet- ing of the London publishers ' ( Wheatley'a London). It was here in 1777 that the edition of the British poets for which Johnson wrote his Lives was arranged for. The building was destroyed in 1858, and a public-house stands on the site, with a draper's work-rooms above. A set of first editions of the Bronte novels was bound in wood from a beam of the old building by Mr. Elliot Stock, the publisher and book- seller, of Paternoster Row. 372 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE of Haworth Parsonage the day before, and planning the mode of setting about the business on which they were going to London, they had resolved to take a cab, if they should find it desirable, from their inn to Cornhill; but amidst the bustle and 'queer state of inward excitement' in which they found themselves, as they sat and considered their position on the Saturday morning, they quite forgot even the possibility of hiring a conveyance; and when they set forth they became so dismayed by the crowded streets, and the impeded crossings, that they stood still repeatedly, in complete despair of making progress, and were nearly an hour in walking the half-mile they had to go. Neither Mr. Smith nor Mr. Williams knew that they were coming ; they were entirely unknown to the publishers of ' Jane Eyre,' who were not, in fact, aware whether the ' Bells ' were men or women, but had always written to them as to men. On reaching Mr. Smith's Charlotte pat his own letter into his hands, the same letter which had excited so much disturbance at Haworth Parsonage only twenty-four hours before. ' Where did you get this ?' said he, as if he could not believe that the two young ladies dressed in black, of slight figures and diminutive stature, looking pleased yet agitated, could be the embodied Currer and Acton Bell, for whom curiosity had been hunting so eagerly in vain. An explanation ensued, and Mr. Smith at once began to form plans for their amusement and pleasure during their stay in London. He urged them to meet a few literary friends at his house; and this was a strong temptation to Charlotte, as amongst them were one or two of the writers whom she particularly wished to see ; but her resolution to remain unknown induced her firmly to put it aside. The sisters were equally persevering in declining Mr. Smith's invitations to stay at his house. They refused to leave their quarters, saying they were not prepared for a long stay. When they returned back to their inn, poor Charlotte paid for the excitement of the interview, which had wound 1848 CURRER AND ACTON BELL IN LONDON 373 up the agitation and hurry of the last twenty-four hours, by a racking headache and harassing sickness. Towards even- ing, as she rather expected some of the ladies of Mr. Smith's family to call, she prepared herself for the chance by tak- ing a strong dose of sal-volatile, which roused her a little, but still, as she says, she was ' in grievous bodily case ' when their visitors were announced, in full evening costume. The sisters had not understood that it had been settled that they were to go to the Opera, and therefore were not ready. Moreover they had no fine, elegant dresses either with them or in the world. But Miss Bronte resolved to raise no objections in the acceptance of kindness. So, in spite of headache and weariness, they made haste to dress themselves in their plain, high-made country garments. Charlotte says, in an account which she gives to her friend of this visit to London, describing the entrance of her party into the Opera House — ' Pine ladies and gentlemen glanced at us, as we stood by the box door, which was not yet opened, with a slight grace- ful superciliousness, quite warranted by the circumstances. Still I felt pleasurably excited in spite of headache, sick- ness, and conscious clownishness ; and I saw Anne was calm and gentle, which she always is. The performance was Rossini's "Barber of Seville" — very brilliant, though I fancy there are-things I should like better. We had got home after one o'clock. We had never been in bed the night before ; had been in constant excitement for twenty- four hours; you may imagine we were tired. The next day, Sunday, Mr. Williams came early to take us to church ; and in the afternoon Mr. Smith and his mother fetched us in a carriage, and took us to his house to dine. ' On Monday we went to the Exhibition of the Royal Academy, the National Gallery, dined again at Mr. Smith's, and then went home to tea with Mr. Williams at his house. ' On Tuesday morning we left London, laden with books Mr. Smith had given us, and got safely home. A more 374 LIFE OP CHARLOTTE BRONTE jaded wretch than I looked it would be difficult to con- ceive. I was thin when I went, but I was meagre indeed when I returned, my face looking grey and very old, with strange deep lines ploughed in it ; my eyes stared unnatu- rally. I was weak and yet restless. In a while, however, these bad effects of excitement went off, and I regained my normal condition." 1 Mrs. Gaskell made use of a letter addressed to Mary Taylor in her account of this visit to London, but the letter has many characteristic touches which make it not the least valuable of the hitherto unpub- lished material. It is interesting also to compare it with Mrs.Gaskell's skilful paraphrase : — TO MISS MARY TAYLOR. ' Haworth : ' September 4, 1848. ' Dear Polly, — I write you a great many more letters than you write me, though whether they all reach you, or not, Heaven knows ! I dare say you will not be without a certain desire to know how our affairs get on ; I will give you, therefore, a notion as briefly as may be. Acton Bell has published another book ; it is in three volumes, but I do not like it quite so well as Agnes Grey, the subject not being such as the Author had pleasure in handling. It has been praised by some reviews and blamed by others ; as yet only 25Z. have been realised for the copy- right, and, as Acton Bell's publisher is a shuffling scamp, I expected no more. ' About two months since I had a letter from my publishers — Smith and Elder — saying that Jane Eyre had had a great run in America, and that a publisher there had consequently bid high for the first sheets of a new work by Currer Bell, which they had promised to let him have. 'Presently after came another missive from Smith and Elder ; their American correspondent had written to them complaining that the first sheets of a new work by Currer Bell had been already received, and not by their house, but by a rival publisher, and asking the mean- ing of such false play ; it enclosed an extract from a letter from Mr. Newby (A. and E. Bell's publisher) affirming that to the best of his belief Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights and Agnes Grey, and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (the new work) were all the production of one writer. ' This was a lie, as Newby had been told repeatedly that they were the production of three different authors ; but the fact was he wanted to make a dishonest move in the game to make the publie and 1848 CURRER AND ACTON BELL IN LONDON 375 The impression Miss Bronte made upon those with whom she first became acquainted during this visit to Lon- don was of a person with clear judgment and a fine sense ; the trade believe that he had got hold of Currer Bell, and thus cheat Smith and Elder by securing the American publisher's bid. ' The upshot of it was that on the very day I received Smith & Elder's letter Anne and I packed up a small box, sent it down to Keighley, set out ourselves after tea — walked through a snowstorm to the station, got to Leeds, and whirled up by the night train to Lon- don, with the view of pi'oving our separate identity to Smith & Elder, and confronting Newby with his lie. ' We arrived at the Chapter Coffee-house (our old place, Polly ; we did not well know where else to go) about eight o'clock in the morning. We washed ourselves, had some breakfast, sat a few minutes, and then set off in queer inward excitement to 65 Cornhill. Neither Mr. Smith nor Mr. Williams knew we were coming ; they had never seen us ; they did not know whether we were men or women, but had always written to us as men. 'We found 65 to be a large bookseller's shop, in a street almost as bustling as the Strand. We went in, walked up to the counter. There were a great many young men and lads here and there. I said to the first I could accost, ' ' May I see Mr. Smith ?" He hesitated, looked a little surprised. We sat down and waited a while, looking at some oooks on the counter, publications of tHeirs well known to us, of many of which they had sent us copies as presents. At last we were shown up to Mr. Smith. "Is it Mr. Smith ?" I said, looking up through my spectacles at a tall young man. " It is." I then put his own letter into his hand directed to Currer Bell. He looked at it and then at me again. " Where did you get this ?" he said. I laughed at his perplex- ity ; a recognition took place. I gave my real name — Miss Bronte. We were in a small room, ceiled with a great skylight, and there ex- planations were rapidly gone into, Mr. Newby being anathematised, I fear, with undue vehemence. Mr. Smith hurried out and returned quickly with one whom he introduced as Mr. Williams, a pale, mild, stooping man of fifty, very much like a faded Tom Dixon. Another recognition and a long nervous shaking of hands. Then followed talk — talk — talk, Mr. Williams being silent, Mr. Smith loquacious. 'Mr. Smith said we must come and stay at his house, but we were not prepared for a long stay and declined this also ; as we took our leave he told us he should bring his sisters to call on us that evening. We returned to our inn, and I paid for the excitement of the interview by a thundering headache and a harassing sickness. Towards evening, 376 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE and though reserved, possessing unconsciously the power of drawing out others in conversation. She never ex- pressed an opinion without assigning a reason for it ; she as I got no better and expected the Smiths to call, I took a strong dose of sal-volatile. It roused me a little ; still I was in grievous bodily case when they were announced. They came in, two elegant young ladies, in full dress, prepared for the Opera— Mr. Smith him- self in evening costume, white gloves, &c. We had by no means un- derstood that it was settled we were to go to the Opera, and were not ready. Moreover we had no fine, elegant dresses with us, or in the world. However on brief rumination I thought it would be wise to make no objections. I put my headache in my pocket ; we attired ourselves in the plain, high-made country garments we possessed, and went with them to their carriage, where we found Mr. Williams. They must have thought us queer, quizzical-looking beings, especially me with my spectacles. I smiled inwardly at the contrast which must have been apparent between me and Mr. Smith as I walked with him up the crimson-carpeted staircase of the Opera House and stood amongst a brilliant throng at the box door, which was not yet open. Fine ladies and gentlemen glanced at us with a slight graceful supercili- ousness quite warranted by the circumstances. Still I felt pleasantly excited in spite of headache and sickness and conscious clownishness, and I saw Anne was calm and gentle, which she always is. ' The performance was Rossini's opera of the Barber of Seville, very brilliant, though I fancy there are things I should like better. We got home after one o'clock. We had never been in bed the night be- fore, and had been in constant excitement for twenty-four hours. You may imagine we were tired. ' The next day, Sunday, Mr. Williams came early and took us to church. He was so quiet but so sincere in his attentions one could not but have a most friendly leaning towards him. He has a nervous hesitation in speech, and a difficulty in finding appropriate language in which to express himself, which throws him into the background in conversation, but I had been his correspondent and therefore knew with what intelligence he could write, so that I was not in danger of undervaluing him. In the afternoon Mr. Smith came in his carriage with his mother, to take us to his house to dine. Mr. Smith's resi- dence is at Bayswater, six miles from Cornhill ; the rooms, the draw- ing-room especially, looked splendid to us. There was no company — only his mother, his two grown-up sisters, and his brother, a lad of twelve or thirteen, and a little sister, the youngest of the family, very like himself. They are all dark-eyed, dark-haired, and have clear, 1848 CURRER AND ACTON BELL IN LONDON 377 never put a question without a definite purpose ; and yet people felt at their ease in talking with her. All conversa- tion with her was genuine and stimulating ; and when she launched forth in praise or reprobation of books, or deeds, or works of art, her eloquence was indeed burning. She was thorough in all that she said or did ; yet so open and fair in dealing with a subject, or contending with an oppo- nent, that instead of rousing resentment she merely con- vinced her hearers of her earnest zeal for the truth and right. Not the least singular part of their proceedings was the place at which the sisters had chosen to stay. Paternoster Row was for many years sacred to publish- ers. It is a narrow nagged street, lying under the shadow pale faces. The mother is a portly, handsome woman of her age, and all the children more or less well-looking — one of the daughters de- cidedly pretty. We had a fine dinner, which neither Anne nor I had appetite to eat, and were glad when it was over. I always feel under an awkward constraint at table. Dining out would be hideous to me. ' Mr. Smith made himself very pleasant. He is a practical man. I wish Mr. Williams were more so, but he is altogether of the contem- plative, theorising order. Mr. Williams has too many abstractions. ' On Monday we went to the Exhibition of the Royal Academy and the National Gallery, dined again at Mr. Smith's, then went home with Mr. Williams to tea and saw his comparatively humble but neat resi- dence and his fine family of eight children. A daughter of Leigh Hunt was there ; she sang some little Italian airs, which she had picked up among the peasantry in Tuscany, in a manner that charmed me. ' On Tuesday morning we left London, laden with books which Mr. Smith had given us, and got safely home. A more jaded wretch than I looked when I returned it would be difficult to conceive. I was thin when I went, but was meagre indeed when I returned ; my face looked grey and very old, with strange deep lines ploughed in it ; my eyes stared unnaturally. I was weak and yet restless. In a while, however, the bad effects of excitement went off and I regained my normal condition. ' We saw Mr. Newby, but of him more another time. ' Good-bye. God bless you. Write. ' C. B.' 3*78 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE of St. Paul's. The dull warehouses on each side are mostly occupied at present by wholesale booksellers ; if they be publishers' shops, they show no attractive front to the dark and narrow street. Halfway up, on the left-hand side, is the Chapter Coffee-house. I visited it last June. It was then unoccupied. It had the appearance of a dwelling-house, two hundred years old or so, such as one sometimes sees in ancient country towns ; the ceilings of the small rooms were low, and had heavy beams running across them ; the walls were wainscoted breast high ; the staircase was shallow, broad, and dark, taking up much space in the centre of the house. This, then, was the Chapter Coffee-house, which, a century ago, was the re- sort of all the booksellers and publishers ; and where the literary hacks, the critics, and even the wits used to go in search of ideas or employment. This was the place about which Chatterton wrote in those delusive letters he sent to his mother at Bristol, while he was starving in London. 'I am quite familiar at the Chapter Coffee-house, and know all the geniuses there.' Here he heard of chances of em- ployment ; here his letters were to be left. Years later it became the tavern frequented by Univer- sity men and country clergymen who were up in London for a few days, and, having no private friends or access into society, were glad to learn what was going on in the world of letters from the conversation which they were sure to hear in the coffee room. In Mr. Bronte's few and brief visits to town, during his residence at Cambridge, and the period of his curacy in Essex, he had stayed at this house; hither he had brought his daughters, when he was convoy- ing them to Brussels ; and here they came now, from very ignorance where else to go. It was a place solely frequent- ed by men ; I believe there was but one female servant in the house. Few people slept there ; some of the stated meetings of the Trade were held in it, as they had been for more than a century; and, occasionally, country book- sellers, with now and then a clergyman, resorted to it; , 1848 CURRER AND ACTON BELL IN LONDON 379 but it was a strange, desolate place for the Miss Bronte's to have gone to, from its purely business and masculine aspect. The old ' grey-haired, elderly man ' who officiated as waiter seems to have been touched from the very first with the quiet simplicity of the two ladies, and he tried to make them feel comfortable and at home in the long, low, dingy room upstairs, where the meetings of the Trade were held. The high, narrow windows looked into the gloomy Row ; the sisters, clinging together on the most remote window seat (as Mr. Smith tells me he found them when he came, that Saturday evening, to take them to the Opera), could see nothing of motion, or of change, in the grim, dark houses opposite, so near and close, although the whole breadth of the Row was between. The mighty roar of London was round them, like the sound of an un- seen ocean, yet every footfall on the pavement below might be heard distinctly in that unfrequented street. Such as it was, they preferred remaining at the Chapter Coffee- house to accepting the invitation which Mr. Smith and his mother urged upon them ; and, in after years, Charlotte ' Since those days I have seen the West End, the parks, the fine squares ; but I love the City far better. The City seems so much more in earnest ; its business, its rush, its roar are such serious things, sights, sounds. The City is getting its living — the "West End but enjoying its pleasure. At the West End you may be amused ; but in the City you are deeply excited/ ' Their wish had been to hear Dr. Croly on the Sunday morning, and Mr. Williams escorted them to St. Stephen's, Walbrook ; but they were disappointed, as Dr. Croly did not preach. Mr. Williams also took them (as Miss Bronte has mentioned) to drink tea at his house. On the way thither they had to pass through Kensington 1 Villette, vol. i. p. 89. 380 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Gardens, and Miss Bronte was much 'struck with the beauty of the scene, the fresh verdure of the turf, and the soft, rich masses of foliage/ From remarks on the different character of the landscape in the South from what it was in the North, she was led to speak of the softness and varied intonation of the voices of those with whom she conversed in London, which seem to have made a strong impression on both sisters. All this time those who came in contact with the ' Miss Browns ' (an- other pseudonym, also beginning with B) seem only to have regarded them as shy and reserved little countrywomen, with not much to say. Mr. Williams tells me that on the night when he accompanied the party to the Opera, as Charlotte ascended the flight of stairs leading from the grand entrance up to the lobby of the first tier of boxes, she was so much struck with the architectural effect of the splendid decorations of that vestibule and saloon, that involuntarily she slightly pressed his arm and whispered, 'You know I am not accustomed to this sort of thing.' Indeed, it must have formed a vivid contrast to what they were doing and seeing an hour or two earlier the night be- fore, when they were trudging along with beating hearts and high-strung courage on the road between Haworth and Keighley, hardly thinking of the thunderstorm that beat about their heads, for the thoughts which filled them of how they would go straight away to London, and prove that they were really two people and not one impostor. It was no wonder that they returned to Haworth thoroughly fagged and worn out, after the fatigue and excitement of this visit. The next notice I find of Charlotte's life at this time is of a different character from anything telling of enjoyment. ' July 28. ' Branwell is the same in conduct as ever. His constitu- tion seems much shattered. Papa, and sometimes all of us, have sad nights with him. He sleeps most of the day, and 1S48 ABOUT CASTERTON SCHOOL 381 consequently will lie awake at night. But has not every house its trial ?' ' While her most intimate friends were yet in ignorance of the fact of her authorship of 'Jane Eyre/ she received a letter from one of them making inquiries about Casterton School. It is but right to give her answer, written on August 28, 1848. " ' Since you wish to hear from me while you are from home, I will write without further delay. It often happens that when we linger at first in answering a friend's letter obstacles occur to retard us to an inexcusably late period. In my last I forgot to answer a question which you asked me, and was sorry afterwards for the omission. I will begin, therefore, by replying to it, though I fear what information I can give will come a little late. You said Mrs. had some thoughts of sending to school, and wished to know whether the Clergy Daughters' School at Casterton was an eligible place. 1 The following letter to Mr. George Smith is dated August 17, 1848:— ' How you can expect to escape the infliction of thanks by means of that ingenuous explanation of the value (to you) of the books you send me I don't know. Consider yourself now thanked twice as much as ever ; if you are overwhelmed I am sorry, but I cannot help it, nor can I diminish one atom of the burden. The case for me stands as it did before ; it was not so much by the sacrifice your gifts cost you that I reckoned their value, as by the pleasure they gave me, and, as that pleasure is enhanced by what you tell me, I ought to be, and, I hope, am, still more grateful. ' I have received the books ; the parcel from Messrs. Bradbury & Evans contained, as you conjectured, a copy of Vanity Fair. I send the accompanying note of acknowledgment to be posted in London. ' I will not return Charles Lamb, for in truth he is very welcome. I saw a review with extracts in the Examiner, and thought at the time I should much like to read the whole work. But, having accepted this book, I tell you distinctly that I will not accept any more till such time as I shall have finished another manuscript, and you find it such as you like. ' My sister joins me in kind remembrances to your mother, sisters, and yourself.' s To Miss Wooler. 382 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE My personal knowledge of that institution is very much out of date, being derived from the experience of twenty years ago. The establishment was at that time in its infancy, and a sad, rickety infancy it was. Typhus fever decimated the school periodically ;' and consumption and scrofula, in every variety of form bad air and water, bad and insufficient diet can generate, preyed on the ill-fated pupils. It would not then have been a fit place for any of Mrs. 's children ; but I understand it is very much al- tered for the better since those days. The school is re- moved from Cowan's Bridge (a situation as unhealthy as it was picturesque — low, damp, beautiful with wood and wa- ter) to Casterton. The accommodations, the diet, the dis- cipline, the system of tuition — all are, I believe, entirely altered and greatly improved. I was told that such pupils as behaved well, and remained at the school till their edu- cation was finished, were provided with situations as gov- ernesses, if they wished to adopt the vocation, and much care was exercised in the selection; it was added that they were also furnished with an excellent wardrobe on leaving Casterton. . . . The oldest family in Haworth failed lately, and have quitted the neighbourhood where their fathers resided before them for, it is said, thirteen generations. . . . Papa, I am most thankful to say, continues in very good health, considering his age ; his sight, too, rather, I think, improves than deteriorates. My sisters likewise are pretty well.' But the dark cloud was hanging over that doomed house- hold, and gathering blackness every hour. On October 9 she thus writes : a — ' The past three weeks have been a dark interval in our humble home. Branwell's constitution had been failing fast 1 Mr. W. W. Carus Wilson wishes me to mention that this statement is a mistake. He says they have only had typhus fever twice in the school (either at Cowan Bridge or at Casterton) since its institution in 1823 {Note by Mrs. Gaskell). 2 In a letter to Ellen Nussey. 1848 DEATH OF BRANWELL BRONTE 383 all the summer; but still neither the doctors nor himself thought him so near his end as he was. He was entirely confined to his bed but for one single day, and was in the village two days before his death. He died, after twenty minutes' struggle, on Sunday morning, September 24. He was perfectly conscious till the last agony came on. His mind had undergone the peculiar change which frequently precedes death, two days previously ; the calm of better feelings filled it ; a return of natural affection marked his last moments. He is in God's hands now ; and the All- Powerful is likewise the All-Merciful. A deep conviction that he rests at last — rests well after his brief, erring, suf- fering, feverish life — fills and quiets my mind now. The final separation, the spectacle of his pale corpse, gave me more acute, bitter pain than I could have imagined. Till the last hour comes we never know how much we can for- give, pity, regret a near relative. All his vices were and are nothing now. We remember only his woes. Papa was acutely distressed at first, but, on the whole, has borne the event well. Emily and Anne are pretty well, though Anne is always delicate, and Emily has a cold and cough at pres- ent. It was my fate to sink at the crisis, when I should have collected my strength. Headache and sickness came on first on the Sunday ; I could not regain my appetite. Then internal pain attacked me. I became at once much reduced. It was impossible to touch a morsel. At last bilious fever declared itself. I was confined to bed a week — a dreary week. But, thank God ! health seems now re- turning. I can sit up all day, and take moderate nourish- ment. The doctor said at first I should be very slow in re- covering, but I seemed to get on faster than he antici- pated. I am truly much letter.' I have heard, from one who attended Branwell in his last illness, that he resolved on standing up to die. He had repeatedly said that as long as there was life there was strength of will to do what it chose ; and when the last 384 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTfi agony began he insisted on assuming the position just men- tioned. 1 ' October 29, 1848. ' I think I have now nearly got over the effects of my late illness, and am almost restored to my moral condition of health. I sometimes wish that it was a little higher, but 1 The following letter from Charlotte Bronte to her friend Mr. W. S. Williams, of Smith, Elder & Co., supplements the text :— October 2, 1848. 'My dear Sir, — "We have hurried our dead out of our sight." A lull begins to succeed the gloomy tumult of last week. It is not per- mitted us to grieve for him who is gone as others grieve for those they lose. The removal of our only brother must necessarily be regarded by us rather in the light of a mercy than a chastisement. Branwell was his father's and his sisters' pride and hope in boyhood, but since manhood the case has been otherwise. It has been our lot to see him take a wrong bent ; to hope, expect, wait his return to the right path ; to know the sickness of hope deferred, the dismay of prayer baffled ; to experience despair at last — and now to behold the sudden early obscure close of what might have been a noble career. ' I do not weep from a sense of bereavement — there is no prop with- drawn, no consolation torn away, no dear companion lost — but for the wreck of talent, the ruin of promise, the untimely dreary extinction of what might have been a burning and a shining light. My brother was a year my junior. I had aspirations and ambitions for him once, long ago ; they have perished mournfully. Nothing remains of him but a memory of errors and sufferings. There is such a bitterness of pity for his life and death, such a yearning for the emptiness of his whole existence, as I cannot describe. I trust time will allay these feelings. ' My poor father naturally thought more of his only son than of his daughters, and, much and long as he had suffered on his account, he cried out for his loss like David for that of Absalom — " My son ! my son 1" — and refused at first to be comforted. And then, when I ought to have been able to collect my strength and be at hand to support him, I fell ill with an illness whose approaches I had felt for some time pre- viously, and of which the crisis was hastened by the awe and trouble of the death scene, the first I had ever witnessed. The past has seemed to me a strange week. Thank God, for my father's sake, I am better now, though still feeble. I wish indeed I had more general physical strength ; the want of it is sadly in my way. I cannot do what I 1B48 IMPENDING SORROWS 385 we ought to be content with such blessings as we have, and not pine after those that are out of our reach. I feel much more uneasy about my sister than myself just now. Emily's cold and cough are very obstinate. I fear she has pain in her chest, and I sometimes catch a shortness in her breath- ing, when she has moved at all quickly. She looks very thin and pale. Her reserved nature occasions me great un- easiness of mind. It is useless to question her; you get no answers. It is still more useles to recommend remedies ; they are never adopted. Nor can I shut my eyes to Anne's great delicacy of constitution. The late sad event has, I feel, made me more apprehensive than common. I cannot help feeling much depressed sometimes. I try to leave all in God's hands ; to trust in His goodness ; but faith and res- ignation are difficult to practise under some circumstances. The weather has been most unfavourable for invalids of late; sudden changes of temperature, and cold penetrating winds have been frequent here. Should the atmosphere become more settled, perhaps a favourable effect might be produced on the general health, and these harassing colds and coughs be removed. Papa has not quite escaped, but he has so far stood it better than any of us. You must not mention my going to Brookroyd this winter. I could not, and would not, leave home on any account. Miss Heald has been for some years out of health now. These things make one feel, would do for want of sustained animal spirits and efficient bodily- vigour. 'My unhappy brother never knew what his sisters had done in lit- erature ; he was not aware that they had ever published a line. We could not tell him of our efforts for fear of causing him too deep a pang of remorse for his own time misspent and talents misapplied. Now he will never know. I cannot dwell longer of the subject at present ; it is too painful. ' I thank you for you kind sympathy, and pray earnestly that your sons may all do well, and that you may be spared the sufferings my father has gone through. ' Yours sincerely, ' C. BbontS.' 25 386 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE as well as know, that this world is not our abiding-place. We should not knit human ties too close, or clasp human affections too fondly. They must leave us, or we must leave them, one day. God restore health and strength to all who need it !' ' I go on now with her own affecting words in the bio- graphical notices of her sisters. 'But a great change approached. Affliction came in that shape which to anticipate is dread, to look back on grief. In the very heat and burden of the day the labour- ers failed over their work. My sister Emily first declined. . . . Never in all her life had she lingered over any task that lay before her, and she did not linger now. She sank 1 A letter of November 7, 1848, to Mr. George Smith has its place here : — ' I have received your letter containing a remittance of 1001. I think I am chiefly glad of it for the proof it seems to afford that the third edition of Jam Eyre does not lie a dead weight on your hands. I was afraid this might'bTthe case, and it would chagrin me to think that any work of "Currer Bell" acted as a drag on your progress; my wish is to serve a contrary purpose, because it seems to me, from what I hnow, and still more from what I hear of you, that you so well deserve success. In this point of view I sometimes feel anx- ious about the little volume of poems ; I hope it will not be a mere incumbrance in your shop, so as to give you reason to regret having purchased it. ' I will do myself the pleasure of writing to you again when I re- ceive the books you mention. You see I carefully abstain from utter- ing a word of thanks, but I must inform you that the loan of the books is indeed well-timed ; no more acceptable benefit could have been conferred on my dear sister Emily, who is at present too ill to occupy herself with writing, or indeed with anything but reading. She smiled when I told her Mr. Smith was going to send some more books. She was pleased. They will be a source_ of interest for her when her cough and fever will permit her to take interest in any- thing. Now you may judge whether or not you have laid me under an obligation. ' My sister Anne joins with me in kind regards to yourself, your mother and sisters.' 1848 IMPENDING SORROWS 387 rapidly. She made haste to leave us. . . . Day by day, when I saw with what a front she met suffering, I looked on her with an anguish of wonder and love. I have seen nothing like it ; but, indeed, I have never seen her parallel in anything. Stronger than a man, simpler than a child, her nature stood alone. The awful point was that, while full of ruth for others, on herself she had no pity ; the spirit was inexorable to the flesh ; from the trembling hand, the unnerved limbs, the fading eyes, the same ser- vice was exacted as they had rendered in health. To stand by and witness this, and not dare to remonstrate, was a pain no words can render.' In fact Emily never went out of doors after the Sunday succeeding Bran well's death. She made no complaint ; she would not endure questioning ; she rejected sympathy and help. Many a time did Charlotte and Anne drop their sewing, or cease from their writing, to listen with wrung hearts to the failing step, the laboured breathing, the fre- quent pauses, with which their sister climbed the short staircase ; yet they dared not notice what they observed, with pangs of suffering even greater than hers. They dared not notice it in words, far less by the caressing as- sistance of a helping arm or hand. They sat still and silent. ' November 23, 1848. ' I told you Emily was ill in my last letter. She has not rallied yet. She is very ill. I believe, if you were to see her, your impression would be that there is no hope. A more hollow, wasted, pallid aspect I have not beheld. The deep, tight cough continues ; the breathing after the least exertion is a rapid pant ; and these symptoms are accom- panied by pains in the chest and side. Her pulse, the only time she allowed it to be felt, was found to beat 115 per minute. In this state she resolutely refuses to see a doc- tor ; she will give no explanation of her feelings ; she will scarcely allow her feelings to be alluded to. Our posi- 388 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE tion is, and has been for some weeks, exquisitely painful. God only knows how all this is to terminate. More than once I have been forced boldly to regard the terrible event of her loss as possible, and even probable. But nature shrinks from such thoughts. I think Emily seems the nearest thing to my heart in the world.'' ' 'A letter addressed to Mr. Williams on November 22 may be read here : — ' My dear Sir, — I put your most friendly letter into Emily's hands as soon as I had myself perused it, taking care, however, not to say a word in favour of homoeopathy ; that would not have answered. It is best usually to leave her to form her own judgment, and especially not to advocate the side you wish her to favour ; if you do she is sure to lean in the opposite direction, and ten to one will argue herself into non-compliance. Hitherto she has refused medicine, rejected medical advice ; no reasoning, no entreaty has availed to induce her to see a physician. After reading your letter she said, " Mr. Williams's in- tention was kind and good, but he was UDder a delusion: homoeop- athy was only another form of quackery." Yet she may reconsider this opinion and come to a different conclusion ; her second thoughts are often the best. ' The North American Bevieio is worth reading; there is no mincing_ the matter there. What a bad set the Bells must be ! What appalling books they write 1 To-day, as Emily appeared a little easier, I thought the Review would amuse her, so I read it aloud to her and Anne. As I sat between them at our quiet but now somewhat melancholy fire- side I studied the two ferocious authors. Ellis, the "man of uncom- mon talents, but dogged, brutal, and morose," sat leaning back in his easy chair, drawing his impeded breath as he best could, and looking, alas ! piteously pale and wasted ; it is not his wont to laugh, but he smiled, half amused and half in scorn, as he listened. Acton was sewing ; no emotion ever stirs him to loquacity, so he only smiled too, dropping at the same time. a single word of calm amazement to hear his character so darkly portrayed. I wonder what the reviewer would have thought of his own sagacity could he have beheld the pair as I did. Vainly, too, might he have looked round for the masculine partner in the firm of " Bell & Co." How I laugh in my sleeve when I read the solemn assertions that Jane Eyre was written in partner- ship, and that it bears the marks of 'mofeTthan one mind and one sex! ' The wise critics would certainly sink a degree in their own esti- mation if they knew that yours or Mr. Smith's was the first masculine hand that touched the MS. of Jane Eyre, and that till you or he read 1848 ILLNESS OF EMILY BRONTE 389 When a doctor had been sentfor, and wasin the very house, Emily refused to see him. Her sisters could only describe to him what symptoms they had observed; and the medicines which he sent she would not take, denying that she was ill. ' I hardly know what to say to you about the subject which now interests me the most keenly of anything in this world, for, in truth, I hardly know what to think myself. Hope and fear fluctuate daily. The pain in her side and chest is better : the cough, the sharpness of breath, the extreme emaciation continue. I have endured, however, such tortures of uncertainty on this subject that, at length, I could endure it no longer; and, as her repugnance to see a medical man continues immutable — as she declares " no poisoning doctor" shall come near her — I have written, unknown to her, to an eminent physician in London, giv- ing as minute a statement of her case and symptoms as I could draw up, and requesting an opinion. I expect an answer in a day or two. I am thankful to say that my own health at present is very tolerable. It is well such is the case ; for Anne, with the best will in the world to be useful, is really too delicate to do or bear much. She, too, at pres- ent, has frequent pains in her side. Papa is also pretty well, though Emily's state renders him very anxious. ' The s 1 (Anne Bronte's former pupils) were here about a week ago. They are attractive and stylish-looking it no masculine eye had scanned a line of its contents, no masculine ear heard a phrase from its pages. However the view they take of the matter rather pleases me than otherwise. If they like I am not unwilling they should think a dozen ladies and gentlemen aided at the compilation of the book. Strange patchwork it must seem to them — this chapter being penned by Mr. and that by Miss or Mrs. Bell ; that character or scene being delineated by the husband, that other by the wife! The gentleman, of course, doing the rough work, the lady getting up the finer parts. I admire the idea vastly.' 1 The Robinsons; daughters of the Rev. Edmund Robinson, of Thorp Green, Yorks, where Anne was governess and Branwell tutor for a short time. 390 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE girls. They seemed overjoyed to see Anne; when I went into the room they were clinging round her like two chil- dren — she, meantime, looking perfectly quiet and passive. ... J. and H. 1 took it into their heads to come here. I think it probable offence was taken on that occasion, from what cause I know not; and as, if such be the case, the grudge must rest upon purely imaginary grounds, and since, besides, I have other things to think about, my mind rarely dwells upon the subject. If Emily were but well, I feel as if I should not care who neglected, misunderstood, or abused me. I would rather you were not of the number . either. The crab cheese arrived safely. Emily has just reminded me to" thank you for it; it looks very nice. I wish she were well enough to eat it.' But Emily was growing rapidly worse." I remember 1 Joseph and Harry Taylor, Mary Taylor's brothers. 8 A letter to Mr. George Smith concerning Emily's illness is dated November 32, 1848 :— ' I think it is to yourself I should address what I have to say respect- ing a suggestion conveyed through Mr. Williams on the subject of your friend Dr. Forbes. ' The proposal was one which I felt it advisable to mention to my father, and it is his reply which I would now beg to convey to you. ' I am enjoined, in the first place, to express my father's sense of the friendly and generous feeling which prompted the suggestion, and in the second place to assure you that did he think any really useful end could be answered by a visit from Dr. Forbes he would, notwith- standing his habitual reluctance to place himself under obligations, unhesitatingly accept an offer so delicately made. He is, however, convinced that whatever aid human skill and the resources of science can yield my sister is already furnished her in the person of her present medical attendant, in whom my father has reason to repose perfect confidence, and he conceives that to bring down a physician from Lon- don would be to impose trouble in quarters where we have no claim, without securing any adequate result. ' Still, having reported my father's reply, I would beg to add a re- quest of my own, compliance with which would, it appears to me, secure us many of the advantages of your proposal without subjecting vourself or Dr. Forbes to its inconveniences. I would state Mr. 1848 ILLNESS OF EMILY BRONTE 391 Miss Bronte's shiver at recalling the pang she felt when, after having searched in the little hollows and sheltered crevices of the moors for a lingering spray of heather — jnst one spray, however withered — to take in to Emily, she saw that the flower was not recognised by the dim and differ- ent eyes. Yet, to the last, Emily adhered tenaciously to her habits of independence. She would suffer no one to assist her. Any effort to do so roused the old stern spirit. One Tuesday morning, in December, she arose and dressed herself as usual, making many a pause, but doing every- thing for herself, and even endeavouring to take up her employment of sewing. The servants looked on, and knew what the catching, rattling breath and the glazing of the eye too surely foretold ; but she kept at her work ; and Charlotte and Anne, though full of unspeakable dread, had still the faintest spark of hope. On that morning Charlotte wrote thus — probably in the very presence of her dying sister : — ' Tuesday. ' I should have written to you before, if I had had one word of hope to say; but I have not. She grows daily weaker. The physician's opinion was expressed too ob- Teale's opinion of my sister's case, the course of treatment he has recom- mended to be adopted, and should be most happy to obtain, through you, Dr. Forbes's opinion on the regime prescribed. ' Mr. Teale said it was a case of tubercular consumption, with con- gestion of the lungs ; yet he intimated that the malady had not yet reached so advanced a stage as to cut off all hope ; he held out a pros- pect that a truce and even an arrest of disease might yet be procured ; till such truce or arrest could be brought about he forbade the excite- ment of travelling, enjoined strict care, and prescribed the use of cod- liver oil and carbonate of iron. It would be a satisfaction to know whether Dr. Forbes approves these remedies, or whether there are others he would recommend in preference. ' To be indebted to you for information on these points would be felt as no burden either by my sister or myself ; your kindness is of an order which will not admit of entire rejection from any motives ; where there cannot be full acceptance there must be at least a consid- ate compromise.' — - 392 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE scurely to be of use. He sent some medicine, which she would not take. Moments so dark as these I have never known. I pray for God's support to us all. Hitherto He has granted it. 5 The morning grew on to noon. Emily was worse : she could only whisper in gasps. Kbw, when it was too late, she said to Charlotte, ' If you will send for a doctor I will see him now.' About two o'clock she died. ' December 21, 1848. 'Emily suffers no more pain or weakness now. She never will'suffer more in this world. She is gone, after a hard, short conflict. She died on Tuesday, the very day I wrote to you. I thought it very possible she might be with us still for weeks ; and a few hours afterwards she was in eternity. Yes ; there is no Emily in time or on earth now. Yesterday we pixt her poor wasted mortal frame quietly un- der the church pavement. We are very calm at present. Why should we be otherwise ? The anguish of seeing her suffer is over ; the spectacle of the pains of death is gone by ; the funeral day is past. We feel she is at peace. No need now to tremble for the hard frost and the keen wind. Emily does not feel them. She died in a time of promise. We saw her taken from life in its prime. But it is God's will, and the place where she is gone is better than that she has left. ' God has sustained me, in a way that I marvel at, through such agony as I had not conceived. I now look at Anne, and wish she were well and strong ; but she is neither ; nor is papa. Could you now come to us for a few days ? I would not ask you to stay long. Write and tell me if you could come next week, and by what train. I would try to send a gig for you to Keighley. You will, I trust, find us tranquil. Try to come. I never so much needed the consolation of a friend's presence. Pleasure, of course, there would be none for you in the visit, except 1848 DEATH OF EMILY BRONTE 393 what your kind heart would teach you to find in doing good to others." As the old bereaved father and his two surviving chil- dren followed the coffin to the grave they were joined by Keeper, Emily's fierce faithful bulldog. He walked along- side of the mourners, and into the church, and stayed 1 The above letter was written to Ellen Nussey. On December 25 Charlotte wrote to Mr. Williams — ' I will write you more at length when my heart can find a little rest ; now I can only thank you very briefly for your letter, which seemed to me eloquent in its sincerity. ' Emily is nowhere here now ; her wasted mortal remains are taken out of the house. We have laid her cherished head under the church aisle beside my mother's, my two sisters' — dead loDg ago — and my poor hapless brother's. But a small remnant of the race is left — so my poor father thinks. ' Well, the loss is ours — not hers, and some sad comfort I take, as I hear the wind blow and feel the cutting keenness of the frost, in know- ing that the elements bring her no more suffering ; this severity can- not reach her grave ; her fever is quieted, her restlessness soothed ; her deep hollow cough is hushed for ever ; we do not hear it in the night nor listen for it in the morning ; we have not the conflict of the strangely stroDg spirit and the fragile frame before us — relentless con- flict—once seen, never to be forgotten. A dreary calm reigns round us, in the midst of which we seek resignation. ' My father and my sister Anne are far from well. As for me, God has hitherto most graciously sustained me ; so far I have felt adequate to bear my own burden, and even offer a little help to others. I am not ill ; I can get through daily duties, and do something towards keeping hope and energy alive in our mourning household. My father says to me almost hourly, "Charlotte, you must bear up ; I shall sink if you fail me." These words, you can conceive, are a stimulus to nature. The sight, too, of my sister Anne's very still but deep sorrow wakens in me such fear for her that I dare not falter. Somebody must cheer the rest. ' So I will not now ask why Emily was torn from us in the fulness of our attachment, rooted up in the prime of her own days, in the promise of her powers ; why her existence now lies like a field of green corn trodden down, like a tree in full bearing struck at the root. I will only say, sweet is rest after labour and calm after tem- pest, and repeat again and again that Emily knows that now.' 334 LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BBONTE quietly there all the time that the burial service was being read. When he came home he lay down at Emily's chamber door, and howled pitifully for many days. Anne Bronte drooped and sickened more rapidly from that time ; and so ended the year 1848. CHAPTER XVII An article on ' Vanity Pair ' and 'J ane Eyre' h ad appeared in the ' Quarterly Review' of December 1848. Some weeks after Miss Bronte wrote to her pnbtishlirsTasking why it had not been sent to her; and conjecturing that it was un- favourable, she repeated her previous request, that whatever was done with the laudatory, all critiques adverse to the novel might be forwarded to her without fail. The 'Quar- terly Review ' ' was accordingly sent. I am not aware that Miss Bronte took any greater notice of the article than to place a few sentences out of it in the mouth of a hard and vulgar woman in ' Shirley,' where they are so much in 'The Quarterly Review article was written by Miss Rigby, Lady Eastlake (1809-1893). Miss Bronte contemplated a reply, under the title of 'A Word to the Quarterly,' as a preface to Shirley, but, acting on the advice of Mr. Williams, Shirley appeared — in 1849 — without a preface. Writing to Mr. Williams (January 2, 1849), Miss Bronte said — 'Untoward circumstances come to me, I think, less painfully than pleasant ones would just now. The lash of the Quarterly, however severely applied, cannot sting — as its praise probably would not elate me. Currer Bell feels a sorrowful independence of reviews and re- viewers ; their approbation might indeed fall like a sorrowful weight on his heart, but their censure has no bitterness for him.' And on February 4 she writes to him — ' Anne expresses a wish to see the notices of the poems. Tou had better, therefore, send them. We shall expect to find painful allu- sions to one now above blame and beyond praise ; but these must be borne. For ourselves, we are almost indifferent to censure. I read the Quarterly without a pang, except that I thought there were some sentences disgraceful to the critic. He seems anxious to let it be un- 396 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE character that few have recognized them as a quotation. The time when the article was read was good for Miss Bronte ; she was numbed to all petty annoyances by the grand severity of Death. Otherwise she might have felt derstood that he is a person well acquainted with the habits of the upper classes. Be this as it may, I am afraid he is no gentleman ; and, moreover, that no training could make him such. Many a poor man, born and bred to labour, would disdain that reviewer's cast of feeling.' On August 16, 1849, she writes to Mr. Williams — ' To value praise or stand in awe of blame we must respect the source whence the praise and blame proceed, and I do not respect an incon- sistent critic. He says, "If Jane Eyre be the production of a woman, she must be a woman unsexed." ' In that case the book is an unredeemed error, and should be unre- servedly condemned. Jane Eyre is a woman's autobiography ; by a woman it is professedly written. If it is written as no woman would write, condemn it with spirit and decision — say it is bad, but do not eulogise and then detract. I am reminded of the Economist. The literary critic of that paper praised the book if written by a man, and pronounced it "odious " if the work of a woman. ' To such critics I would say, " To you I am neither man nor woman — I come before you as an author only. It is the sole standard by which you have a right to judge me — the sole ground on which I ac- cept your judgment." ' There is a weak comment, having no pretence either to justice or discrimination, on the works of Ellis or Acton Bell. The critic did not know that those writers had passed from time and life. I have read no review since either of my sisters died which I could have wished them to read — none even which did not !render the thought of their departure more tolerable to me. To hear myself praised beyond them was cruel, to hear qualities ascribed to them so strangely the reverse of their real characteristics was scarcely supportable. It is sad even now ; but they are so remote from earth, so safe from its turmoils, I can bear it better. ' But on one point do I now feel vulnerable : I should grieve to see my father's peace of mind perturbed on my account ; for which reason I keep my author's existence as much as possible out of his way. I have always given him a carefully diluted and modified account of the success of Jane Eyre — just what would please without startling him. The book is not mentioned between us once a month. The Quarterly I kept to myself — it would have worried papa. To that same Quarterly I must speak in the introduction to my present work 1849 'QUARTERLY REVIEW ON -JANE EYRE' 397 more keenly than they deserved the criticisms which, while striving to be severe, failed in logic, owing to the misuse of prepositions ; and have smarted under conjectures as to the authorship of 'Jane Eyre/ which, intended to be acute, — just one little word. You once, I remember, said that review was written by a lady — Miss Kigby. Are you sure of this ? ' Give no hint of my intention of discoursing a little with the Quar- terly. It would look too important to speak of it beforehand. All plans are best conceived and executed without noise.' On August 29, 1849, Miss Bronte wrote to Mr. Williams concerning Shirley — ' The book is now finished (thank God) and ready for Mr. Taylor, but I have not yet heard from him. I thought I should be able to tell whether it was equal to Jane Eyre or not, but I find I cannot — it may be better, it may be worse. I shall be curious to hear your opin- ion; my own is of no value. I send the preface, or " Word to the Quarterly," for your perusal.' ' Mr. Williams evidently thought that the preface to Shirley in reply to the Quarterly should be written on different lines, and the author's identity as a woman be avowed. On August 31 Miss Bronte writes to him — s ' August 31, 1849. 'My dear Sir, — I cannot change my preface. I can shed no tears before the public, nor utter any groan in the public ear. The deep, real tragedy of our domestic experience is yet terribly fresh in my mind and memory. It is not a time to be talked about to the indifferent ; it is not a topic for allusion to in print. ' No righteous indignation can I lavish on the Quarterly. I can con- descend but to touch it with the lightest satire. Believe me, my dear Sir, " C. Bronte" must not here appear ; what she feels or has felt is not the question: it is "Currer Bell" who was insulted ; he must re- ply. Let Mr. Smith fearlessly print the preface I have sent — let him depend upon me this once ; even if I prove a broken reed, his fall cannot be dangerous : a preface is a short distance, it is not three vol- umes. 'I have always felt certain that it is a deplorable error in an author to assume the tragic tone in addressing the public about his own wrongs or griefs. What does the public care about him as an indi- vidual ? His wrongs are its sport ; his griefs would be a bore. What we deeply feel is our own — we must keep it to ourselves. Ellis and Acton Bell were, for me, Emily and Anne ; my sisters — to me inti- mately near, tenderly dear — to the public they were nothing — worse 398 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE were merely flippant. But flippancy takes a graver name when directed against an author by an anonymous writer. We call it then cowardly insolence. Every one has a right to form his own conclusion respect- ing the merits and demerits of a book. I complain not of the judgment which the reviewer passes on ' Jane Eyre.' Opinions as to its tendency varied then as they do now. While I write I receive a letter from a clergyman in America, in which he says, ' We have in our sacred of sacreds a special shelf, highly adorned, as a place we de- light to honour, of novels which we recognise as having had a good influence on character, our character. Fore- most is "Jane Eyre."' Nor do I deny the existence of a diametrically opposite judgment. And so (as I trouble not myself about the re- viewer's style of composition) I leave his criticisms regard- ing the merits of the work on one side. But when — forget- than nothing — being speculated upon, misunderstood, misrepresented. If I live the hour may come when the spirit will move me to speak of them, but it is not come yet.' And on the same date (August 81, 1849) she writes to Mr. George Smith— ' I do not know whether you share Mr. Williams's disapprobation of the preface I sent, but, if you do, ask him to show you the note where- in I contumaciously persist in urging it upon you. I really cannot condescend to be serious with the Quarterly : it is too silly for solem- nity. ' Mr. Taylor has just written ; he says he shall be at Haworth on Saturday, September 8, so I shall wait with what patience I may. I am perhaps unduly anxious to know that the manuscript is safely de- posited at 65 Cornhill, and to bear the opinions of my critics there. Those opinions are by no means the less valuable because I cannot al- ways reconcile them to my own convictions. "In the multitude of counsellors there is safety." ' It is my intention to pack with the manuscript some of the books you have been so kind as to lend me— if the charge of so large a par- cel will not be too burdensome for Mr. Taylor. Such works as I have not yet perused I shall take the liberty of retaining a little longer. ' Permit me to thank you for the kind interest you express in my welfare ; I am not ill, but only somewhat overwroughtand unnerved.' 1849 'QUARTERLY REVIEW ON 'JANE EYRE' 399 ting the chivalrous spirit of the good and noble Southey, who said, ' In reviewing anonymous works myself, when I have known the authors I have never mentioned them, taking it for granted they had sufficient reasons for avoiding the publicity' — the 'Quarterly' reviewer goes on into gossip- ing conjectures as to who Currer Bell really is, and pretends to decide on what the writer may be from the book, I pro- test with my whole soul against such want of Christian charity. Not even the desire to write a 'smart article,' which shall be talked about in London, when the faint mask of the anonymous can be dropped at pleasure if the cleverness of the review be admired — not even this tempta- tion can excuse the stabbing cruelty of the judgment. "Who is he that should say of an unknown woman, ' She must be one who for some sufficient reason has long for- feited the society of her sex'? Is he one who has led a wild and struggling and isolated life, seeing few but plain and unspoken Northerns, unskilled in the euphuisms which assist the polite world to skim over the mention of vice ? Has he striven through long weeping years to find excuses for the lapse of an only brother, and through daily contact with a poor lost profligate been compelled into a certain familiarity with the vices that his soul abhors ? Has he, through trials, close following in dread march through his household, sweeping the hearthstone bare of life and love, still striven hard for strength to say, ' It is the Lord : let Him do what seemeth to him good ' — and sometimes striven in vain, until the kindly Light returned? If through all these dark waters the scornful reviewer have passed clear, refined, free from stain — with a soul that has never in all its agonies cried 'Lama sabachthani' — still even then let him pray with the publican rather than judge with the Pharisee. ' January 10, 1849. ' Anne had a very tolerable day yesterday, and a pretty quiet night last night, though she did not sleep much. Mr. Wheelhouse ordered the blister to be put on again. She 400 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE bore it without sickness. I have just dressed it, and she is risen and come downstairs. She looks somewhat pale and sickly. She has had one dose of the cod-liver oil ; it smells and tastes like train oil. I am trying to hope, bnt the day is windy, cloudy, and stormy. My spirits fall at intervals very low ; then I look where you counsel me to look, be- yond earthly tempests and sorrows. I seem to get strength if not consolation. It will not do to anticipate. I feel that hourly. In the night I awake and long for morning : then my heart is wrung. Papa continues much the same; he was very faint when he came down to breakfast. 1 . . . Dear Ellen, your friendship is some comfort to me. I am thankful for it. I see few lights through the darkness of the present time ; but amongst them the constancy of a kind heart attached to me is one of the most cheering and 1 The original letter runs — ' I wrote to Hunsworth (the Taylors), telling them candidly I would rather they did not come, as, owing to circumstances, I felt it was not in my power to receive them as I could wish.' 8 On January 18 she writes to Mr. Williams — '•My dear Sir, — In sitting down to write to you I feel as if I were doing a wrong and a selfish thing. I believe I ought to discontinue my correspondence with you till times change, and the tide of calamity which of late days has set so strongly in against us takes a turn. But the fact is, sometimes I feel it absolutely necessary to unburden my miad. To papa I must only speak cheeringly, to Anne only encour- agingly ; to you I may give some hint of the dreary truth. ' Anne and I sit alone and in seclusion, as you fancy us, but we do not study. Anne cannot study now, she can scarcely read ; she occu- pies Emily's chair ; she does not get well. A week ago we sent for a medical man of skill and experience from Leeds to see her. He ex- amined her with the stethoscope. His report I forbear to dwell on for the present — even skilful physicians have often been mistaken in their conjectures. ' My first impulse was to hasten her away to a warmer climate, but this was forbidden : she must not travel ; she is not to stir from the house this winter ; the temperature of her room is to be kept con- stantly equal. ' Had leave been given to try change of air and scene, I should hardly 1849 ILLNESS OF ANNE BRONTE 401 ' January 15, 1849. ' I can scarcely say that Anne is worse, nor can I say she is better. She varies often in the course of a day, yet each day is passed pretty much the same. The morning is usu- have known how to act. I could not possibly leave papa ; and when I mentioned his accompanying us, the bare thought distressed him too much to be dwelt upon. Papa is now upwards of seventy years of age ; his habits for nearly thirty years have been those of absolute re- tirement ; any change in them is most repugnant to him, and probably could not, at this time, especially when the hand of God is so heavy upon his old age, be ventured upon without danger. 'When we lost Emily 1 thought we had drained the very dregs of our cup of trial, but now when I hear Anne cough as Emily coughed I tremble lest there should be exquisite bitterness yet to taste. How- ever, I must not look forwards, nor must I look backwards. Too of- ten I feel like one crossing an abyss on a narrow plank — a glance round might quite unnerve. ' So circumstanced, my dear Sir, what claim have I on your friend- ship, what right to the comfort of your letters ? My literary char- acter is effaced for the time, and it is by that only you know me. Care of papa and Anne is necessarily my chief present object in life, to the exclusion of all that could give me interest with my publishers or their connections. Should Anne get better, I think I could rally and become Currer Bell once more, but if otherwise I look no further : sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. ' Anne is very patient in her illness, as patient as Emily was un- flinching. I recall one sister and look at the other with a sort of rev- erence as well as affection : under the test of suffering neither has faltered. ' All the days of this winter have gone by darkly and heavily like a funeral train. Since September sickness has not quitted the house. It is strange it did not use to be so, but I suspect now all this has been coming on for years. Unused, any of us, to the possession of robust health, we have not noticed the gradual approaches of de- cay ; we did not know its symptoms : the little cough, the small appe- tite, the tendency to take cold at every variation of atmosphere have been regarded as things of course. I see them in another light now. 'If you answer this, write to me as you would to a person in an average state of tranquillity and happiness. I want to keep myself as firm and calm as I can. While papa and Anne want me, I hope, I pray, never to fail them. Were I to see you I should endeavour to 402 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ally the best time ; the afternoon and the evening the most feverish. Her cough is the most troublesome at night, but it is rarely violent. The pain in her arm still disturbs her. She took the cod-liver oil and carbonate of iron regularly ; she finds them both nauseous, but especially the oil. Her appetite is small indeed. Do not fear that I shall relax in my care of her. She is too precious not to be cherished with all the fostering strength I have. Papa, I am thank- ful to say, has been a good deal better this last day or two. ' As to your queries about myself, I can only say that if I continue as I am I shall do very well. I have not yet got rid of the pains in my chest and back. They oddly return with every change ' of weather ; and are still sometimes accompanied with a little soreness and hoarseness, but I combat them steadily with pitch plasters and bran tea. I should think it silly and wrong indeed not to be regardful of my own health at present ; it would not do to be ill now. ' I avoid looking forward or backward, and try to keep looking upward. This is not the time to regret, dread, or weep. What I have and ought to do is very distinctly laid out for me ; what I want, and pray for, is strength to per- form it. The days pass in a slow, dark march : the nights are the test ; the sudden wakings from restless sleep, the revived knowledge that one lies in her grave, and another, not at my side, but in a separate and sick bed. However, God is over all.' 'January 22,1849. ' Anne really did seem to be a little better during some mild days last week, but to-day she looks very pale and languid again. She perseveres with the cod-liver oil, but stift finds it very nauseous. ' She is truly obliged to you for the soles for her shoes, converse on ordinary topics, and I should wish to write on the same — besides, it will be less harassing to yourself to address me as usual. ' May God long preserve to you the domestic treasures you value ; and when bereavement at last comes may He give you strength to bear it. — Yours sincerely, C. Bronte.' 1849 ILLNESS OF ANNE BRONTE 403 and finds them extremely comfortable. I am to commission you to get her just such a respirator as Mrs. (Heald) had. She would not object to give a higher price, if you thought it better. If it is not too much trouble you may likewise get me a pair of soles ; you can send them and the respirator when you send the box. You must put down the price of all, and we will pay you in a post-office order. "Wither- ing Heights " was given to you. (Mary Taylor's address I have always written " % Mr. Waring Taylor, Wellington, New Zealand.") I have sent her neither letter nor parcel. I had nothing but dreary news to write, so preferred that others should tell her. I have not written to (Ellen Tay- lor) either. I cannot write, except when I am quite obliged/ 'February 11, 1849. ' We received the box and its contents quite safely to-day. The penwipers are very pretty, and we are very much obliged to you for them. I hope the respirator will be use- ful to Anne, in case she should ever be well enough to go out again. She continues very much in the same state — I trust not greatly worse, though she is becoming very thin. I fear it would be only self-delusion to fancy her better. What effect the advancing season may have on her I know not ; perhaps the return of really warm weather may give nature a happy stimulus. I tremble at the thought of any change to cold wind or frost. Would that March were well over ! Her mind seems generally serene, and her suffer- ings hitherto are nothing like Emily's. The thought of what may be to come grows more familiar to my mind ; but it is a sad, dreary guest.' 'March 16, 1849. 'We have found the past week a somewhat trying one; it has not been cold, but still there have been changes of temperature whose effect Anne has felt unfavourably. She is not, I trust, seriously worse, but her cough is at times very hard and painful, .and her strength rather diminished than improved. I wish the month of March was well over. 404 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE You are right in conjecturing that I am somewhat de- pressed ; at times I certainly am. It was almost easier to bear up when the trial was at its crisis than now. The feel- ing of Emily's loss does not diminish as time wears on ; it often makes itself most acutely recognised. It brings too an inexpressible sorrow with it ; and then the future is dark. Yet I am well aware it will not do either to complain or sink, and I strive to do neither. Strength, I hope and trust, will yet be given in proportion to the burden; but the pain of my position is not one likely to lessen with habit. Its solitude and isolation are oppressive circum- stances, yet I do not wish for any friends to stay with me ; I could not do with any one — not even you — to share the sadness of the house ; it would rack me intolerably. Mean- time judgment is still blent with mercy. Anne's sufferings still continue mild. It is my nature, when left alone, to struggle on with a certain perseverance, and I believe God will help me.' Anne had been delicate all her life : a fact which perhaps made her father and sister less aware than they would otherwise have been of the true nature of those fatal first symptoms. Yet they seem to have lost but little time be- fore they sent for the first advice that could be procured. She was examined with the stethoscope, and the dreadful fact was announced that her lungs were affected, and that tubercular consumption had already made considerable progress. A system of treatment was prescribed, which was afterwards ratified by the opinion of Dr. Forbes. For a short time they hoped that the disease was arrested. Charlotte — herself ill with a complaint that severely tried her spirits — was the ever-watchful nurse of this youngest, last sister. One comfort was that Anne was the patientest, gentlest invalid that could be. Still, there were hours, days, weeks of inexpressible anguish to be borne, under the pressure of which Charlotte could only pray ; and pray she did, right earnestly. Thus she writes on March 24' — 1 To her old schoolmistress Miss Wooler. 1849 A TIME OF DARKNESS 405 ' Anne's decline is gradual and fluctuating ; but its nat- ure is not doubtful. ... In spirit she is resigned : at heart she is, I believe, a true Christian. . . . May God support her and all of us through the trial of lingering sickness, and aid her in the last hour, when the struggle which sep- arates soul from body must be gone through ! We saw Emily torn from the midst of us when our hearts clung to her with intense attachment. . . . She was scarce buried when Anne's health failed. . . .These things would be too much, if reason, unsupported by religion, were condemned to bear them alone. I have cause to be most thankful for the strength that has hitherto been vouchsafed both to my father and to myself. God, I think, is specially merciful to old age ; and, for my own part, trials, which in perspec- tive would have seemed to me quite intolerable, when they actually came I endured without prostration. Yet I must confess that, in the time which has elapsed since Emily's death, there have been moments of solitary, deep, inert af- fliction, far harder to bear than those which immediately followed our loss. The crisis of bereavement has an acute pang which goads to exertion ; the desolate after-feeling sometimes paralyses. I have learnt that we are not to find solace in our own strength ; we must seek it in God's om- nipotence. Fortitude is good ; but fortitude itself must he shaken under us, to teach us how weak we are !' All through this illness of Anne's Charlotte had the comfort of being able to talk to her about her state ; a comfort rendered inexpressibly great by the contrast which it presented to the recollection of Emily's rejection of all sympathy. If a proposal for Anne's benefit was made, Charlotte could speak to her about it, and the nursing and dying sister could consult with each other as to its desira- bility. I have seen but one of Anne's letters ; it is the only time we seem to be brought into direct personal con- tact with this gentle, patient girl. In order to give the req- uisite preliminary explanation, I must state that the fam- 406 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ily of friends, to which Ellen belonged, proposed that Anne should come to them, in order to try what change of air and diet and the company of kindly people could do towards restoring her to health. In answer to this propo- sal Charlotte writes — ' March 24. ' I read your kind note to Anne, and she wishes me to thank you sincerely for your friendly proposal. She feels, of course, that it would not do to take advantage of it, by quartering an invalid upon the inhabitants of B(rookroyd); but she intimates there is another way in which you might serve her, perhaps with some benefit to yourself as well as to her. Should it in a month or two hence be deemed ad- visable that she should go either to the seaside or to some ' inland watering-place — and should papa be disinclined to move, and I consequently obliged to remain at home — she asks, could you be her companion ? Of course I need not add that in the event of such an arrangement being made, you would be put to no expense. This, dear Ellen, is Anne's proposal ; I make it to comply with her wish ; but, for my own part, I must add that I see serious objections to your accepting it — objections I cannot name to her. She continues to vary ; is sometimes worse, and sometimes better, as the weather changes ; but, on the whole, I fear she loses strength. Papa says her state is most precarions ; she may be spared for some time, or a sudden alteration might remove her before we are aware. Were such an al- teration to take place while she was far from home, and alone with you, it would be terrible. The idea of it dis- tresses me inexpressibly, and I tremble whenever she al- ludes to the project of a journey. In short, I wish we could gain time, and see how she gets on. If she leaves home, it certainly should not be in the capricious month of May, which is proverbially trying to the weak. June would be a safer month. If we could reach June I should have good hopes of her getting through the summer. Write such an answer to this note as I can show Anne. You can 1849 LETTER FROM ANNE BRONTE 407 write any additional remarks to me on a separate piece of paper. Do not consider yourself as confined to discussing only our sad affairs. I am interested in all that interests you/ FROM ANNE BRONTE. ' April 5, 1849. ' My dear Miss (Nussey), — I thank you greatly for your kind letter, and your ready compliance with my proposal, as far as the will can go at least. I see, however, that your friends are unwilling that you should undertake the re- sponsibility of accompanying me under present circum- stances. But I do not think there would be any great re- sponsibility in the matter. I know, and everybody knows, that you would be as kind and helpful as any one could possibly be, and I hope I should not be very troublesome. It would be as a companion, not as a nurse, that I should wish for your company ; otherwise I should not venture to ask it. As for your kind and often-repeated invitation to (Birstall,) pray give my sincere thanks to your mother and sisters, but tell them I could not think of inflicting my presence upon them as I now am. It is very kind of them to make so light of the trouble, but still there must be more or less, and certainly no pleasure, from the society of a silent invalid stranger. I hope, however, that Charlotte will by some means make it possible to accompany me after all. She is certainly very delicate, and greatly needs a change of air and scene to renovate her constitution. And then your going with me before the end of May is appar- ently out of the question, unless you are disappointed in your visitors ; but I should be reluctant to wait till then, if the weather would at all permit an earlier departure. You say May is a trying month, and so say others. The earlier part is often cold enough, I acknowledge, but, according to my experience, we are almost certain of some fine warm days in the latter half, when the laburnums and lilacs are in bloom ; whereas June is often cold, and July generally wet. But I have a more serious reason than this for my 408 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE impatience of delay. The doctors say that change of air or removal to a better climate would hardly ever fail of success in consumptive cases, if the remedy were taken in time; but the reason why there are so many disappoint- ments is, that it is generally deferred till it is too late. Now I would not commit this error ; and, to say the truth, though I suffer much less from pain and fever than I did when you were with us, I am decidedly weaker, and very much thinner. My cough still troubles me a good deal, especially in the night, and, what seems worse than all, I am subject to great shortness of breath on going upstairs or any slight exertion. Under these circumstances I tlrink there is no time to be lost. I have no horror of death : if I thought it inevitable, I think I could quietly resign my- self to the prospect, in the hope that you, dear Miss (Nus- sey), would give as much of your company as you possibly could to Charlotte, and be a sister to her in my stead. But I wish it would please God to spare me, not only for papa's and Charlotte's sakes, but because I long to do some good in the world before I leave it. I have many schemes in my head for future practice — humble and limited indeed — but still I should not like them all to come to nothing, and my- self to have lived to so little purpose. But God's will be done. Remember me respectfully to your mother and sis- ters, and believe me, dear Miss (Nussey), yours most affec- tionately. Anns Bronte.' It must have been about this time that Anne composed her last verses, before ' the desk was closed, and the pen laid aside for ever/ I hoped that with the brave and strong My portioned task might lie ; To toil amid the busy throng, With purpose pure and high. 1849 LAST VERSES OF ANNE BRONTE 409 But God has fixed another part, And He has fixed it well : I said so with my bleeding heart When first the anguish fell. Thou, God, hast taken our delight, Our treasured hope away ; Thou bidst us now weep through the night, And sorrow through the day. These weary hours will not be lost, These days of misery — These nights of darkness, anguish-tost — Can I but turn to Thee, With secret labour to sustain In humble patience every blow To gather fortitude from pain, And hope and holiness from woe. Thus let me serve Thee from my heart, Whate'er may be my written fate ; Whether thus early to depart, Or yet a while to wait. VII. If Thou shouldst bring me back to life, More humbled I should be ; More wise — more strengthened for the strife, More apt to lean on Thee. Should death be standing at the gate, Thus should I keep my vow ; But, Lord, whatever be my fate, Oh ! let me serve Thee now ! 410 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE I take Charlotte's own words as the best record of her thoughts and feelings during all this terrible time. •April 12. ' I read Anne's letter to you ; it was touching enough, as you say. If there were no hope beyond this world — no eternity — no life to come — Emily's fate, and that which threatens Anne, would be heart-breaking. I cannot forget Emily's death day ; it becomes a more fixed, a darker, a more frequently recurring idea in my mind than ever. It was very terrible. She was torn, conscious, panting, reluc- tant, though resolute, out of a happy life. But it will not do to dwell on these things. 'I am glad your friends object to your going with Anne: it would never do. To speak truth, even if your mother and sisters had consented I never could. It is not that there is any laborious attention to pay her ; she requires, and will accept, but little nursing ; but there would be hazard, and anxiety of mind, beyond what you ought to be subject to. If, a month or six weeks hence, she continues to wish for a change as much as she does now, I shall (D.V.) go with her myself. It will certainly be my paramount duty ; other cares must be made subservient to that. I have consulted Mr. T(eale) : he does not object, and rec- ommends Scarborough, which was Anne's own choice. I trust affairs may be so ordered that you may be able to be with us at least part of the time. . . . Whether in lodg- ings or not, I should wish to be boarded. Providing one- self is, I think, an insupportable nuisance. I don't like keeping provisions in a cupboard, locking up, being pil- laged, and all that. It is a petty wearing annoyance.' The progress of Anne's illness was slower than that of Emily's had been ; and she was too unselfish to refuse try- ing means, from which, if she herself had little hope of benefit, her friends might hereafter derive a mournful sat- isfaction. 1849 ILLNESS OF ANNE BRONTE 411 ' I began to flatter myself she was getting strength. But the change to frost has told upon her : she suffers more of late. Still her illness has none of the fearful rapid symp- toms which appalled us in Emily's case. Could she only get over the spring, I hope summer may do much for her, and then early removal to a warmer locality for the winter might, at least, prolong her life. Could we only reckon upon another year I should be thankful ; but can we do this for the healthy ? A few days ago I wrote to have Dr. Forbes's opinion. He is editor of the " Medical Review " and one of the first authorities in England on consumptive cases. 1 He warned us against entertaining sanguine hopes of recovery. The cod-liver oil he considers a peculiarly efficacious medicine. He, too, disapproved of change of residence for the present. There is some feeble consola- tion in thinking we are doing the very best that can be done. The agony of forced total neglect is not now felt, as during Emily's illness. Never may we be doomed to feel such agony again ! It was terrible. I have felt much less of the disagreeable pains in my chest lately, and much less also of the soreness and hoarseness. I tried an appli- cation of hot vinegar, which seemed to do good.' 'May 1. ' I was glad to hear that when we go to Scarborough you will be at liberty to go with us, but the journey and its consequences still continue a source of great anxiety to me ; I must try to put it off two or three weeks longer if I can : perhaps by that time the milder season may have 1 Dr. Forbes (1787-1861) was knighted and became Sir John Forbes in 1853. He was born at Cuttlebrae, Banffshire, and was educated at the Aberdeen Grammar School and Marischal College. He settled as a medical practitioner at Penzance about the time that Maria Bran- well left that town to become Mrs. Bronte. In 1849 Forbes was a fashionable London doctor, physician to the Queen's Household, and a prominent investigator of mesmerism. He had edited the British and Foreign Medical Beview from its start in 1836 until its discontinu- ance in 1847. 412 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE given Anne more strength — perhaps it will be otherwise ; I cannot tell. The change to fine weather has not proved beneficial to her so far. She has sometimes been so weak, and suffered so much pain in the side, during the last few days, that I have not known what to think. . . . She may rally again and be much better, but there must be some improvement before I can feel justified in taking her away from home. Yet to delay is painful ; for, as is always the case, I believe, under her circumstances, she seems herself not half conscious of the necessity for such delay. She wonders, I believe, why I don't talk more about the jour- ney : it grieves me to think she may even be hurt by my seeming tardiness. She is very much emaciated — far more than when you were with us ; her arms are no thicker than a little child's. The least exertion brings a shortness of breath. She goes out a little every day, but we creep rather than walk. . . . Papa continues pretty well. I hope I shall be enabled to bear up. So far I have reason for thankfulness to God/ May had come, and brought the milder weather longed for ; but Anne was worse for the very change. A little later on it became colder, and she rallied, and poor Char- lotte began to hope that, if May were once over, she might last for a long time. Miss Bronte wrote to engage the lodgings at Scarborough — a place which Anne had former- ly visited with the family to whom she was governess. 1 1 ' "We have engaged lodgings at Scarbro',' she writes to Miss Ellen Nussey. ' We stipulated for a good-sized sitting-room and an airy double-bedded lodging room, with a sea view, and, if not deceived, have obtained these desiderata at No. 2 Cliff. Anne says it is one of the best situations in the place. It would not have done to have taken lodgings either in the town or on the bleak steep coast, where Miss Wooler's house is situated. If Anne is to get any good she must have every advantage. Miss Outh waite [her godmother] left her in her will a legacy of 200Z., and she cannot employ her money better than in obtain- ing what may prolong existence, if it does not restore health. We hope to leave home on the 23rd, and I think it will be advisable to rest at York, and stay all night there. I hope this arrangement will suit 1849 A JOURNEY TO SCARBOROUGH 413 They took a good-sized sitting-room, and an airy double- bedded room (both commanding a sea view), in one of the best situations of the town. Money was as nothing in com- parison with life ; besides, Anne had a small legacy left to her by her godmother, and they felt that she could not better employ this than in obtaining what might prolong life, if not restore health. On May 16 Charlotte writes — 'It is with a heavy heart I prepare: and earnestly do I wish the fatigue of the journey were well over. It may be borne better than I expect ; for temporary stimulus often does much ; but when I see the daily increasing weakness I know not what to think. I fear you will be shocked when you see Anne ; but be on your guard, dear Ellen, not to express your feelings ; indeed, I can trust both your self- possession and kindness. I wish my judgment sanctioned the step of going to Scarborough more fully than it does. You ask how I have arranged about leaving papa. I could make no special arrangement. He wishes me to go with Anne, and would not hear of Mr. N 's ' coming, or any- thing of that kind ; so I do what I believe is for the best, and leave the result to Providence.' They planned to rest and spend a night at York ; and, at Anne's desire, arranged to make some purchases there. Charlotte ends the letter to her friend, in which she tells her all this, with — ' May 23. 'I wish it seemed less like a dreary mockery in us to you. We reckon on your society, dear Ellen, as a real privilege and pleasure. We shall take little luggage, and shall have to buy bonnets and dresses and several other things either at York or Scarbro' ; which place do you think would be best ? Oh, if it would please God to strengthen and revive Anne, how happy we might be together I His will, however, must be done, and if she is not to recover it remains to pray for strength and patience.' 1 Mr. Nicholls, the curate at Haworth, who afterwards became Charlotte Bronte's husband. 414 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE talk of buying bonnets, &c. Anne was very ill yesterday. She had difficulty of breathing all day, even when sitting perfectly still. To-day she seems better again. I long for the moment to come when the experiment of the sea air will be tried. Will it do her good ? I cannot tell ; I can only wish. Oh! if it would please God to strengthen and revive Anne, how happy we might be together : His will, however, be done!" The two sisters left Haworth on Thursday, May 24. They were to have done so the day before, and had made an appointment with their friend to meet them at the Leeds station, in order that they might all proceed to- gether. But on Wednesday morning Anne was so ill that it was impossible for the sisters to set out ; yet they had no means of letting their friend know of this, and she conse- quently arrived at the Leeds station at the time specified. There she sat waiting for several hours. It struck her as sh - ange at the time — and it almost seems ominous to her fancy now — that twice over, from two separate arrivals on the line by which she was expecting her friends, coffins were carried forth, and placed in hearses which were wait- ing for their dead, as she was waiting for one in four days to become so. The next day she could bear suspense no longer, and set out for Haworth, reaching there just in time to carry the feeble, fainting invalid into the chaise which was wait- ing to take them down to Keighley. The servant who stood at the Parsonage gates saw Death written on her face, and spoke of it. Charlotte saw it and did not speak of it — it would have been giving the dread too distinct a form; and if this last darling yearned for the change to Scar- borough, go she should, however Charlotte's heart might be wrung by impending fear. The lady who accompanied them, Charlotte's beloved friend of more than twenty years, has kindly written out for me the following account of the journey — and of the end: — 1849 LAST DAYS OF ANNE BRONTE 415 ' She left her home May 24, 1849— died May 28. Her life was calm, qniet, spiritual : such was her end. Through the trials and fatigues of the journey she evinced the pious courage and fortitude of a martyr. Dependence and help- lessness were ever with her a far sorer trial than hard, rack- ing pain. ' The first stage of our journey was to York ; and here the dear invalid was so revived, so cheerful, and so happy, we drew consolation, and trusted that at least temporary improvement was to be derived from the change which she had so longed for, and her friends had so dreaded for her. ' By her request we went to the Minster, and to her it was an overpowering pleasure ; not for its own imposing and impressive grandeur only, but because it brought to her susceptible nature a vital and overwhelming sense of omnipotence. She said, while gazing at the structure, " If finite power can do this, what is the . . . ?" and here emo- tion stayed her speech, and she was hastened to a less ex- citing scene. ' Her weakness of body was great, but her gratitude for every mercy was greater. After such an exertion as walk- ing to her bedroom she would clasp her hands and raise her eyes in silent thanks, and she did this not to the ex- clusion of wonted prayer, for that too was performed on bended knee, ere she accepted the rest of her couch. ' On the 25th we arrived at Scarborough ; our dear in- valid having, during the journey, directed our attention to every prospect worthy of notice. ' On the 26th she drove on the sands for an hour ; and lest the poor donkey should be urged by its driver to a greater speed than her tender heart thought right, she took the reins and drove herself. When joined by her friend she was charging the boy-master of the donkey to treat the poor animal well. She was ever fond of dumb things, and would give up her own comfort for them. 'On Sunday, the 27th, she wished to go to church, and her eye brightened with the thought of once more worship- 416 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ping her God amongst her fellow creatures. 1 We thought it prudent to dissuade her from the attempt, though it was evident her heart was longing to join in the puhlic act of devotion and praise. ' She walked a little in the afternoon, and meeting with a sheltered and comfortable seat near the beach, she begged we would leave her, and enjoy the various scenes near at 1 On Sunday, the 27th, the day before her sister died, Charlotte wrote to Mr. Williams — ' No. 2 Cliff, Scarboro' : May 27, 1849. 'My dear Sir, — The date above will inform you why I have not an- swered your letter more promptly. I have been busy with prepara- tions for departure and with the journey. I am thankful to say we reached our destination safely, having rested one night at York. We found assistance wherever we needed it ; there was always an arm ready to do for my sister what I was not quite strong enough to do- lift her in and out of the carriages, carry her across the line, &c. ' It made her happy to see both York and its Minster and Scarboro' and its bay once more. There is yet no revival of bodily strength ; I fear, indeed, the slow ebb continues. People who see her tell me I must not expect her to last long ; but it is something to cheer her mind. ' Our lodgings are pleasant. As Anne sits at the window she can look down on the sea, which this morning is calm as glass. She says if she could breathe more freely she would be comfortable at this mo- ment ; but she cannot breathe freely. ' My friend Ellen is with us. I find her presence a solace. She is a calm, steady girl — not brilliant, but good and true. She suits and has always suited me well. I like her, with her phlegm, repose, sense, and sincerity, better than I should like the most talented without these qualifications. ' If ever I see you again I should have pleasure in talking over with you the topics you allude to in your last — or rather in hearing you talk them over. We see these things through a glass darkly — or at least I see them thus. So far from objecting to speculation on, or dis- cussion of, the subject, I should wish to hear what others have to say. By others I mean only the serious and reflective ; levity in such matters shocks as much as hypocrisy. ' Write to me. In this strange place your letters will come like the visits of a friend. Fearing to lose the post, I will add no more at pres- ent. — Believe me yours sincerely, ' C. Bronte.' 1849 LAST DAYS OP ANNE BRONTE 417 hand, which were new to us but familiar to her. She loved the place, and wished us to share her preference. ' The evening closed in with the most glorious sunset ever witnessed. The castle on the cliff stood in proud glory, gilded by the rays of the declining sun. The distant ships glittered like burnished gold ; the little boats near the beach heaved on the ebbing tide, inviting occupants. The view was grand beyond description. Anne was drawn in her easy chair to the window, to enjoy the scene with us. Her face became illumined almost as much as the glorious scene she gazed upon. Little was said, for it was plain that her thoughts were driven by the imposing view before her to penetrate forwards to the regions of unfading glory. She again thought of public worship, and wished us to leave her, and join those who were assembled at the house of God. We declined, gently urging the duty and pleasure of staying with her, who was now so dear and so feeble. On returning to her place near the fire she conversed with her sister upon the propriety of returning to their home. She did not wish it for her own sake, she said; she was fearing others might suffer more if her decease occurred where she was. She probably thought the task of accom- panying her lifeless remains on a long journey was more than her sister could bear — more than the bereaved father could bear, were she borne home another and a third ten- ant of the family vault in the short space of nine months. ' The night was passed without any apparent accession of illness. She rose at seven o'clock, and performed most of her toilet herself, by her expressed wish. Her sister always yielded such points, believing it was the truest kindness not to press inability when it was not acknowl- edged. Nothing occurred to excite alarm till about 11 a.m. She then spoke of feeling a change. " She believed she had not long to live. Could she reach home alive, if we prepared immediately for departure ?" A physician was sent for. Her address to him was made with perfect composure. She begged him to say " how long he thought 27 418 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE she might live — not to fear speaking the truth, for she was not afraid to die." The doctor reluctantly admitted that the angel of death was already arrived, and that life was ebbing fast. She thanked him for his truthfulness, and he departed to come again very soon. She still occupied her easy chair, looking so serene, so radiant : there was no opening for grief as yet, though all knew the separation was at hand. She clasped her hands, and reverently invoked a blessing from on high ; first upon her sister, then upon her friend, to whom she said, "Be a sister in my stead. Give Charlotte as much of your company as you can." She then thanked each for her kindness and attention. 'Ere long the restlessness of approaching death appeared, and she was borne to the sofa. On being asked if she were easier she looked gratef ally at her questioner, and said, "It is not you who can give me ease, but soon all will be well through the merits of our Redeemer." Shortly after this, seeing that her sister could hardly restrain her grief, she said, "Take courage, Charlotte; take courage." Her faith never failed, and her eye never dimmed till about two o'clock, when she calmly, and without a sigh, passed from the temporal to the eternal. So still and so hallowed were her last hours and moments. There was no thought of assistance or of dread. The doctor came and went two or three times. . The hostess knew that death was near, yet so little was the house disturbed by the presence of the dying, and the sorrow of those so nearly bereaved, that dinner was announced as ready, through the half-opened door, as the living sister was closing the eyes of the dead one. She could now no more stay the welled-up grief of her sister with her emphatic and dying "Take courage," and it burst forth in brief but agonising strength. Charlotte's affec- tion, however, had another channel, and there it turned in thought, in care, and in tenderness. There was bereave- ment, but there was not solitude ; sympathy was at hand, and it was accepted. With calmness came the considera- tion of the removal of the dear remains to their home rest- 1849 DEATH OF ANNE BRONTE 419 ing-place. This melancholy task, however, was never per- formed ; for the afflicted sister decided to lay the flower in the place where it had fallen. She believed that to do so would accord with the wishes of the departed. She had no preference for place. She thought not of the grave, for that is but the body's gaol, but of all that is beyond it. ' Her remains rest 'Where the south sun warms the now dear sod, Where the ocean billows lave and strike the steep and turf-covered rock.' Anne died on the Monday. On the Tuesday Charlotte wrote to her father ; but knowing that his presence was required for some annual church solemnity at Haworth, she informed him that she had made all necessary arrange- ments for the interment, and that the funeral would take place so soon that he could hardly arrive in time for it. 1 The surgeon who had visited Anne on the day of her death offered his attendance, but it was respectfully declined. ' A lady from the same neighbourhood as Ellen was stay- ing in Scarborough at this time ; she, too, kindly offered sympathy and assistance ; and when that solitary pair of mourners (the sister and the friend) arrived at the church this lady was there, in unobtrusive presence, not the less kind because unobtrusive.' Mr. Bronte wrote to urge Charlotte's longer stay at the seaside. Her health and spirits were sorely shaken ; and much as he naturally longed to see his only remaining child, he felt it right to persuade her to take, with her friend, a few more weeks' change of scene, though even that could not bring change of thought. 1 The inscription on the tomb at Scarborough churchyard runs as follows : — ' Here lie tlie Remains of Anne Bronte, Daughter of the Bev. P. Bronte, Incumbent of Haworth, Yorkshire. She Died, aged 38, May 28, 1849.' 420 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE The younger servant, Martha Brown, who has been oc- casionally alluded to in these memoirs, who was with Miss Bronte in her last days, and who still remains the faithful servant at Haworth Parsonage, has recently sent me a few letters which she received from her dearly loved mistress : one of them I will insert here, as it refers to this time: 'June 5, 1849. 'Dear Martha, — I was very much pleased with your note, and glad to learn that all at home are getting on pretty well. It will still be a week or ten days before I return, and you must not tire yourself too much with the clean- ing. ' My sister Anne's death could not be otherwise than a great trouble to me, though I have known for many weeks that she could not get better. She died very calmly, and gently : she was quite sensible to the last. About three minutes before she died she said she was very happy, and believed she was passing out of earth into heaven. It was not her custom to talk much about religion ; but she was very good, and I am certain she is now in a far better place than any this world contains. ' I mean to send one of the boxes home this week, as I have more luggage than is convenient to carry about. Give my best love to Tabby. — I am, dear Martha, your sincere friend, C. Bronte.' ' July 1849. ' ' I intended to have written a line to you to-day, if I had not received yours. We did indeed part suddenly ; it made my heart ache that we were severed without the time to exchange a word ; and yet perhaps it was better. I got here a little before eight o'clock. All was clean and bright, waiting for me. Papa and the servants were well ; and all received me with an affection which should have consoled. The dogs seemed in strange ecstasy. I am certain they re- 1 To Ellen Nussey. 1849 RETURN TO THE HOUSE OF MOURNING 421 garded me as the harbinger of others. The dumb creatures thought that, as I was returned, those who had been so long absent were not far behind. ' I left papa soon, and went into the dining-room : I shut the door — I tried to be glad that I was come home. I have always been glad before — except once — even then I was cheered. But this time joy was not to be the sensation. I felt that the house was all silent — the rooms were all empty. I remembered where the three were laid — in what narrow, dark dwellings — never more to reappear on earth. So the sense of desolation and bitterness took possession of me. The agony that was to be undergone, and was not to be avoided, came on. I underwent it, and passed a dreary evening and night, and a mournful morrow ; to-day I am better. ' I do not know how life will pass, but I certainly do feel confidence in Him who has upheld me hitherto. Solitude may be, cheered and made endurable beyond what I can believe. The great trial is when evening closes and night approaches. At that hour we used to assemble in the dining-room — we used to talk. Now I sit by myself — necessarily I am silent. I cannot help thinking of their last days, remembering their sufferings, and what they said and did, and how they looked in mortal affliction. Perhaps all this will become less poignant in time. 'Let me thank you once more, dear Ellen, for your kindness to me, which I do not mean to forget. How did you think all looking at your home ? Papa thought me a little stronger ; he said my eyes were not so sunken.' ' July 14, 1849. ' ' I do not much like giving an account of myself. I like better to go out of myself, and talk of something more cheerful. My cold, wherever I got it, whether at Easton or elsewhere, is not vanished yet. It began in my head, 1 To Ellen Nussey. 422 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE then I had a sore throat, and then a sore chest, with a cough, but only a trifling cough, which I still have at times. The pain between my shoulders likewise amazed me much. Say nothing about it, for I confess I am too much disposed to be nervous. This nervousness is a hor- rid phantom. I dare communicate no ailment to papa; his anxiety harasses me inexpressibly. ' My life is what I expected it to be. Sometimes when I wake in the morning, and know that Solitude, Remem- brance, and Longing are to be almost my sole companions all day through — that at night I shall go to bed with them, that they will long keep me sleepless — that next morning I shall wake to them again — sometimes, Nell, I have a heavy heart of it. But crushed I am not, yet ; nor robbed of elasticity, nor of hope, nor quite of endeavour. I have some strength to fight the battle of life. I am aware, and can acknowledge, I have many comforts, many mercies. Still I can get on. But I do hope and pray that never may you, or any one I love, be placed as I am. To sit in a lonely room — the clock ticking loud through a still house — and have open before the mind's eye the record of the last year, with its shocks, sufferings, losses, is a trial. ' I write to you freely, because I believe you will hear me with moderation — that you will not take alarm or think me in any way worse off than I am.' CHAPTER XVIII The tale of ' Shirley ' had been begun soon after the publi- cation of ' Jane Byre.' If the reader will refer to the ac- count I have given of Miss Bronte's school days at Eoe Head, he will there see how every place surrounding that house was connected with the Luddite riots, and will learn how stories and anecdotes of> that time were rife among the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages; how Miss Wooler herself, and the elder relations of most of her school- fellows, must have known the actors in those grim disturb- ances. What Charlotte had heard there as a girl came up in her mind when, as a woman, she sought a subject for her next work ; and she sent to Leeds for a file of the 'Mer- curies' of 1812, '13, and '14, in order to understand the spirit of those eventful times. She was anxious to write of things she had known and seen ; and among the number was the West Yorkshire character, for which any tale laid among the Luddites would afford full scope. In 'Shirley' she took the idea of most of her characters from life, al- though the incidents and situations were, of course, ficti- tious. She thought that if these last were purely imagi- nary, she might draw from the real without detection ; but in this she was mistaken : her studies were too closely ac- curate. This occasionally led her into difficulties. People recognised themselves, or were recognised by others, in her graphic descriptions of their personal appearance, and modes of action and turns of thought, though they were placed in new positions, and figured awry in scenes far dif- ferent from those in which their actual life had been passed. Miss Bronte was struck by the force or peculiarity of the 424 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE character of some one whom she knew ; she studied it, and analysed it with subtle power ; and having traced it to its germ, she took that germ as the nucleus of an imaginary character, and worked outwards — thus reversing the proc- ess of analysation, and unconsciously reproducing the same external development. The 'three curates 'were real living men, haunting Haworth and the neighbouring dis- trict ; and so obtuse in perception that, after the first burst of anger at having their ways and habits chronicled was over, they rather enjoyed the joke of calling each other by the names she had given them. 'Mrs. Pryor' was well known to many who loved the original dearly. The whole family of the Yorkes were, I have been assured, almost daguerreotypes. Indeed, Miss Bronte told me that, before publication, she had sent those parts of the novel in which these remarkable persons are introduced to one of the sons; and his reply, after reading it, was simply that ' she had not drawn them strong enough.' Prom those many-sided sons, I suspect, she drew all that there was of truth in the charac- ters of the heroes in her first two works. They, indeed, were almost the only young men she knew intimately, be- sides her brother. There was much friendship, and still more confidence, between the Bronte family and them — although their intercourse was often broken and irregular. There was never any warmer feeling on either side. The character of Shirley herself is Charlotte's representa- tion of Emily. I mention this because all that I, a stranger, have been able to learn about her has not tended to give either me, or my readers, a pleasant impression of her. But we must remember how little we are acquainted with her, compared with that sister, who, out of her more intimate knowledge, says that she 'was genuinely good, and truly great,' and who tried to depict her character in Shirley Keeldar, as what Emily Bronte would have been, had she been placed in health and prosperity. Miss Bronte took extreme pains with 'Shirley.' She felt that the fame she had acquired imposed upon her a double 1849 'VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH' 425 responsibility. She tried to make her novel like a piece of actual life — feeling sure that if she but represented the product of personal experience and observation truly good would come out of it in the long run. She carefully studied the different reviews and criticisms that had appeared on 'Jane Eyre/ in hopes of extracting precepts and advice from which to profit. Down into the very midst of her writing came the bolts of death. She had nearly finished the second volume of her tale when Branwell died — after him Emily — after her Anne ; the pen, laid down when there were three sisters living and loving, was taken up when one alone remained. Well might she call the first chapter that she wrote after this 'The Valley of the Shadow of Death.' I knew in part what the unknown of 'Shirley' must have suffered, when I read those pathetic words which oc- cur at the end of this and the beginning of the succeeding chapter : — ' Till break of day she wrestled with God in earnest prayer. 'Not always do those who dare such divine conflict pre- vail. Night after night the sweat of agony may burst dark on the forehead ; the supplicant may cry for mercy with that soundless voice the soul utters when its appeal is to the Invisible. " Spare my beloved," it may implore. " Heal my life's life. Eend not from me what long affection en- twines with my whole nature. God of heaven — bend — hear — be clement !" And after this cry and strife the sun may rise and see him worsted. That opening morn, which used to salute him with the whispers of zephyrs, the carol of skylarks, may breathe, as its first accents, from the dear lips which colour and heat have quitted, " Oh ! I have had a suffering night ! This morning I am worse. I have tried to rise. I cannot. Dreams I am unused to have troubled me." ' Then the watcher approaches the patient's pillow, and sees a new and strange moulding of the familiar features, 436 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE feels at once that the insufferable moment draws nigh, knows that it is God's will his idol should be broken, and bends his head, and subdues his soul to the sentence he cannot avert, and scarce can bear. . . . 'No piteous, unconscious moaning sound — which so wastes our strength that, even if we have sworn to be firm, a rush of unconquerable tears sweeps away the oath — pre- ceded her waking. No space of deaf apathy followed. The first words spoken were not those of one becoming estranged from this world, and already permitted to stray at times into realms foreign to the living.' She went on with her work steadily. But it was dreary to write without any one to listen to the progress of her tale — to find fault or to sympathise — while pacing the length of the parlour in the evenings, as in the days that were no more. Three sisters had done this — then two, the other sister dropping off from the walk— and now one was left desolate, to listen for echoing steps that never came, and to hear the wind sobbing at the windows, with an almost articulate sound. But she wrote on, struggling against her own feelings of illness ; ' continually recurring feelings of slight cold ; slight soreness in the throat and chest, of which, do what I will,' she writes, ' I cannot get rid.' In August there arose a new cause for anxiety, happily but temporary. ' August 23, 1849. ' Papa has not been well at all lately. He has had an- other attack of bronchitis. I felt very uneasy about him for some days — more wretched indeed than I care to tell you. After what has happened one trembles at any ap- pearance of sickness ; and when anything ails papa I feel too keenly that he is the last — the only near and dear rela- tive I have in the world. Yesterday and to-day he has seemed much better, for which I am truly thankful. . . . ' From what you say of Mr. C , I think I should like 1849 COMPLETION OF 'SHIRLEY' 427 him very much. A wants shaking to be put out abouthis appearance. What does it matter whether her husband dines in a dress coat or a market coat, provided there be worth and honesty and a clean shirt underneath ?' ' September 10, 1849. ' My piece of work is at last finished, and despatched to its destination. You must now tell me when there is a chance of your being able to come here. I fear it will now be difficult to arrange, as it is so near the marriage day. Note well, it would spoil all my pleasure if you put your- self or any one else to inconvenience to come to Haworth. But when it is convenient I shall be truly glad to see you. . . . Papa, I am thankful to say, is better, though not strong. He is often troubled with a sensation of nausea. My cold is very much less troublesome ; I am sometimes quite free from it. A few days since I had a severe bilious attack, the consequence of sitting too closely to my writing ; but it is gone now. It is the first from which I have suf- ■ fered since my return from the seaside. I had them every month before.' ' September 13, 1849. 'If duty and the well-being of others require that you should stay at home, I cannot permit myself to complain ; still I am very, very sorry that circumstances will not per- mit us to meet just now. I would without hesitation come to Birstall if papa were stronger ; but uncertain as are both his health and spirits, I could not possibly prevail on my- self to leave him now. Let us hope that when we do see each other our meeting will be all the more pleasurable for being delayed. Dear Ellen, you certainly have a heavy burden laid on your shoulders ; but such burdens, if well borne, benefit the character ; only we must take the great- est, closest, most watchful care not to grow proud of our strength, in case we should be enabled to bear up under the trial. That pride, indeed, would be a sign of radical weakness. The strength, if strength we have, is certainly never in our own selves ; it is given us.' 428 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE TO W. S. WILLIAMS, ESQ. ' September 21, 1849. 'My dear Sir, — I am obliged to you for preserving my secret, being at least as anxious as ever {more anxious I cannot well be) to keep quiet. You asked me in one -of your letters lately whether I thought I should escape iden- tification in Yorkshire. I am so little known that I think I shall. Besides, the book is far less founded on the Real than perhaps appears. It would be difficult to explain to you how little actual experience I have had of life, how few persons I have known, and how very few have known me. 'As an instance how the characters have been managed take that of Mr. Helstone. If this character had an origi- nal it was in the .person of a clergyman who died some years since at the advanced age of eighty. I never saw him except once — at the consecration of a church — when I was a child of ten years old. I was then struck with his appearance and stern, martial air. At a subsequent period I heard him talked about in the neighbourhood where he had resided : some mentioned him with enthusiasm, others with detestation. I listened to various anecdotes, balanced evidence against evidence, and drew an inference. The original of Mr. Hall I have seen ; he knows me slightly ; but he would as soon think I had closely observed him or taken him for a character — he would as soon, indeed, sus- pect me of writing a book — a novel — as he would his dog Prince. Margaret Hall called "Jane Eyre" a "wicked book," on the authority of the "Quarterly;" an expres- sion which, coming from her, I will here confess, struck somewhat deep. It opened my eyes to the harm the " Quarterly " had done. Margaret would not have called it " wicked " if she had not been told so. 'No matter — whether known or unknown — misjudged or the contrary — I am resolved not to write otherwise. I shall bend as my powers tend. The two human beings who understood me, and whom I understood, are gone. I have 1849 ILLNESS OF 'TABBY' 439 .some that love me yet, and whom I love without expecting, or having a right to expect, that they shall .perfectly under- stand me. I am satisfied; but I must have my own way in the matter of writing. The loss of what we possess near- est and dearest to us in this world produces an effect upon the character : we search out what we have yet left that can support, and, when found, we cling to it with a hold of new-strung tenacity. The faculty of imagination lifted me when I was sinking, three months ago ; its active exer- cise has kept my head above water since; its results cheer me now, for I feel they have enabled me to give pleasure to others. I am thankful to God, who gave me the faculty; and it is for me a part of my religion to defend this gift, and to profit by its possession. — Yours sincerely, 'Chaklotte Bronte.' At the time when this letter was written both Tabby and the young servant whom they had to assist her were ill in bed ; and, with the exception of occasional aid, Miss Bronte had all the household work to perform, as well as to nurse the two invalids. The serious illness of the younger servant was at its height, when a cry from Tabby called Miss Bronte into the kitchen, and she found the poor old woman of eighty laid on the floor, with her head under the kitchen grate ; she had fallen from her chair in attempting to rise. When I saw her, two years later, she described to me the tender care which Charlotte had taken of her at this time; and wound up her account of how 'her own mother could not have had more thought for her nor Miss Bronte had,' by saying, * Eh ! she's a good one — she is !' But there was one day when the strung nerves gave way — when, as she says, ' I fairly broke down for ten minutes ; sat and cried like a fool. Tabby could neither stand nor walk. Papa had just been declaring that Martha was in imminent danger. I was myself depressed with headache and sickness. That day I hardly knew what to do or where 430 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE to turn. Thank God! Martha is now convalescent: Tabby, I trust, will be better soon. Papa is pretty well. I have the satisfaction of knowing that my publishers are delighted with what I sent them. This supports me. But life is a battle. May we all be enabled to fight it well!' The kind friend, to whom she thus wrote, saw how the poor overtaxed system needed bracing, and accordingly sent her a shower-bath — a thing for which she had long been wishing. The receipt of it was acknowledged as fol- lows : — ' September 28, 1849. ' . . . Martha is now almost well, and Tabby much bet- ter. A huge monster package, from " Nelson, Leeds," came yesterday. You want chastising roundly and soundly. Such are the thanks yon get for all your trouble. . . . When- ever you come to Haworth you shall certainly have a thor- ough drenching in your own shower-bath. I have not yet unpacked the wretch. Yours, as you deserve, C. B.' There was misfortune of another kind impending over her. There were some railway shares, which, so early as 1846, she had told Miss Wooler she wished to sell, but had kept because she could not persuade her sisters to look upon the affair as she did, and so preferred running the risk of loss to hurting Emily's feelings by acting in opposition to her opinion. The depreciation of these same shares was now verifying Charlotte's soundness of judgment. They were in the York and North Midland Company, which was one of Mr. Hudson's pet lines, and had the full benefit of his peculiar system of management. She applied to her friend and publisher, Mr. Smith, for information on the subject ; and the following letter is in answer to his reply: — ' October, 4, 1849. ' My dear Sir, — I must not thank you for, but acknowl- edge the receipt of, your letter. The business is certainly very bad; worse than I thought, and much worse than my father has any idea of. In fact, the little railway property 1849 LOSS ON EAILWAY SHARES 431 I possessed, according to original prices, formed already a small competency for me, with my views and habits. Now scarcely any portion of it can, with security, be calculated upon. I must open this view of the case to my father by degrees; and, meanwhile, wait patiently till I see how affairs are likely to turn. . . . However the matter may terminate, I ought perhaps to be rather thankful than dis- satisfied. When I look at my own case, and compare it with that of thousands besides, I scarcely see room for a murmur. Many, very many, are by the late strange rail- way system deprived almost of their daily bread. Such, then, as have only lost provision laid up for the future should take care how they complain. The thought that "Shirley" has given pleasure at Cornhill yields me much quiet comfort. No doubt, however, you are, as I am, pre- pared for critical severity ; but I have good hopes that the vessel is sufficiently sound of construction to weather a gale or two, and to make a prosperous voyage for you in the end.' Towards the close of October in this year she went to pay a visit to her friend ; but her enjoyment in the holiday, which she had so long promised herself when her work was completed, was deadened by a continual feeling of ill-health ; either the change of air or the foggy weather produced con- stant irritation at the chest. Moreover she was anxious about the impression which her second work would pro- duce on the public mind. For obvious reasons an author is more susceptible to opinions pronounced on the book which follows a great success than he has ever been before. Whatever be the value of fame, he has it in his possession, and is not willing to have it dimmed or lost. 'Shirley ' was published on October 26. ' 1 On October 24 she wrote to Mr. George Smith from Brookroyd, her friend's home — ' Your note, enclosing the banker's receipt, reached me safely. I should have acknowledged it before had I not been from home. ' I am glad Shirley is so near the day of publication, as I now and 432 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE When it came oat, but before reading it, Mr. Lewes wrote to tell her of his intention of reviewing it in the ' Edinburgh/ Her correspondence with him had ceased for some time : much had occurred since. TO G. H. LEWES, ESQ. ' November 1, 1849. ' My dear Sir, — It is about a year and a half since you wrote to me ; but it seems a longer period, because since then it has been my lot to pass some black milestones in the journey of life. Since then there have been intervals when I have ceased to care about literature and critics and fame ; when I have lost sight of whatever was prominent in my thoughts at the first publication of "Jane Byre;" but now I want these things to come back vividly, if possi- ble : consequently it was a pleasure to receive your note. I wish you did not think me a woman. I wish all reviewers believed "Currer Bell" to be a man ; they would be more just to him. You will, I know, keep measuring me by some standard of what you deem becoming to my sex ; where I am not what you consider graceful you will condemn me. All mouths will be open against that first chapter, and that first chapter is as true as the Bible, nor is it exceptionable. Come what will, I cannot, when I write, think always of myself and of what is elegant and charming in f emineity ; it is not on those terms, or with such ideas, I ever took pen in hand : and if it is only on such terms my writing will be tolerated I shall pass away from the public and trouble it no more. Out of obscurity I came, to obscurity I can easily return. Standing afar off, I now watch to see what will become of " Shirley." My expectations are very low, and my anticipations somewhat sad and bitter ; still, I earnestly conjure you to say honestly what you think ; flat- then fe,el anxious to know its doom and learn what sort of reception it will get. In another month some of the critics will have pronounced their fiat, and the public also will have evinced their mood towards it. Meanwhile patience.' 1849 PUBLICATION OF 'SHIRLEY' 433 tery would be worse than vain ; there is no consolation in flattery. As for condemnation, I cannot, on reflection, see why I should much fear it ; there is no one but myself to suffer therefrom, and both happiness and suffering in this life soon pass away. Wishing you all success in your Scot- tish expedition, I am, dear Sir, yours sincerely, J y/si-. ^. ^ ^L_ , f~ -for +—- ^^-~- ^- ^lO^teT^. LwS^-i^Ce^,^ pL^L-Co-t^^f-^j Ou—t^tf «_ ^»t_^ ^*- <***-<*-£} £c. ")V&sO &^ &■ #*^ vZ^i, n~-c^ /*£Uw^Ji . : £7 1850 THACKERAY AS A SATIRIST 453 utterly fatigued, and be obliged to go to bed, questioning himself sadly as to where- all his former strength of body had gone to. His strength of will was the same as ever. That which he resolved to do he did, at whatever cost of weariness ; but his daughter was all the more anxious from seeing him so regardless of himself and his health. 1 1 1 give here two letters, one to Mr. George Smith's mother, dated January 9, 1850, and addressed to 4 Westbourne Place: — ' My dear Mrs. Smith, — Since you are kind enough to answer my let- ters, you shall occasionally hear from me, but not too often ; you shall not be "bored " (as Mr. Thackeray would say) with too frequent a call for replies. ' Speaking of Mr. Thackeray, you ask me what I think of his Christ- mas book. I think it is like himself, and all he says and writes; harsh and kindly, wayward and wise, benignant and bitter; its pages are overshadowed with cynicism, and yet they sparkle with feeling. As to his abuse of Rowena and of women in general — I will tell you my dear Madam what I think he deserves — first to be arrested, to be kept in prison for a month, then to be tried by a jury of twelve matrons, and subsequently to undergo any punishment they might think proper to inflict ; and I trust they would not spare him ; for the scene of Ro- wena's death-bed alone he merits the extremest penalty — the poor woman is made with her last breath lo prove that a narrow rankling jealousy was a sentiment more rooted in her heart than either conju- gal or maternal love. It is too bad. For that scene his mother ought to chastise him. ' You suggest the election of Mr. Chorley as our champion ; no, no, my dear Madam — we will not have Mr. Chorley — I doubt whether he would be true to us ; I will tell you who would better espouse and defend our cause ; the very man who attacks us; in Mr. Thackeray's nature is a good angel and a bad, and I would match the one against the other. ' Will you ask Mr. Smith whether the two volumes of Violet reached him safely ? I returned them by post, as I remembered he said they were borrowed. ' Give my kind regards to all your family circle, tell little Bell to be sure and not wear out her eyes with too much reading, or she will re- pent it when she is grown a woman. Believe me, my dear Mrs. Smith, Yours sincerely, ' C. BrontE. ' You demand a bulletin respecting the " little socks." I am sorry I cannot issue a more favourable one ; they continue much the same. 454 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE The hours of retiring for the night had always been early in the Parsonage ; now family prayers were at eight o'clock, directly after which Mr. Bronte and old Tabby went to bed, and Martha was not long in following. But Charlotte could not have slept if she had gone — could not have rested on her desolate couch. She stopped up — it was very tempting — late and later ; striving to beguile the lonely night with some employment, till her weak eyes failed to Should they ever be finished, you shall certainly have them as a me- mento of " Currer Bell." ' The second letter is addressed to Mr. George Smith, and is dated January 15 : — 'I have received the Morning Chronicle. I like Mr. Thackeray's letter. As you say, it is manly ; it breathes rectitude and indepen- dence ; now and then the satirist puts in a word, but, on the whole, its tone is as earnest as its style is simple. It needs a comparison between Mr. Thackeray and all the whining small fry of quill-drivers to take the full measure of his stature ; it needs such a comparison as his own words suggest to discover what a giant he is (morally I mean, not physically), and with what advantage and command he towers above the Leigh Hunts, the Levers, the Jerrolds. ' I have likewise got Mr. Doyle's book in its beautiful lapis-lazuli cover. All comment on the circumstance of your sending a second copy after the first had been lost would, I feel, be quite unavailing. I leave the correction of such proceedings to the "man of business" within you : on the " close-fisted " Head of the Establishment in Corn- hill devolves the duty of reprimanding Mr. Q- e S th ; they may settle accounts between themselves, while Currer Bell looks on and wonders, but keeps out of the melee. ' On reflection I think it would be wiser to abstain from adding any more prefatory remarks to the cheap edition of Jane Eyre, for it does not appear that I am very happy in such matters ; I lack Mr. Thack- eray's nice quiet tact and finished ease. I am glad to hear that the bonnets suited, and regret exceedingly that it is not in my power to give any assurance of the substantial existence of Miss Helstone. You must be satisfied if that young person has furnished your mind with a pleasant idea ; she is a native of Dreamland, and as such can have neither voice nor presence except for the fancy, neither being nor dwelling except in thought. 'N. B. — That last sentence is not to be read by the "man of busi- ness;" it sounds mnch too bookish.' 1850 VISITORS TO HA WORTH 455 read or sew, and could only weep in solitude over the dead that were not. Ko one on earth can even imagine what those hours were to her. All the grim superstitions of the North had been implanted in her during her childhood by the servants who believed in them. They recurred to her now — with no shrinking from the spirits of the Dead, but with such an intense longing once more to stand face to face with the souls of her sisters as no one but she could have felt. It seemed as if the very strength of her yearn- ing should have compelled them to appear. On windy nights cries, and sobs, and wailings seemed to go round the house, as of the dearly beloved striving to force their way to her. Some one conversing with her once objected, in my presence, to that part of ' Jane Eyre ' in which she hears Rochester's voice crying out to her in a great crisis of her life, he being many, many miles distant at the time. I do not know what incident was in Miss Bronte's recollec- tion when she replied, in a low voice, drawing in her breath, 'But it is a true thing; it really happened.' The reader who has even faintly pictured to himself her life at this time — the solitary days — the waking, watching nights — may imagine to what a sensitive pitch her nerves were strung, and how such a state was sure to affect her health. It was no bad thing for her that about this time various people began to go over to Haworth, curious to see the scenery described in ' Shirley/ if a sympathy with the writer, of a more generous kind than to be called mere curiosity, did not make them wish to know whether they could not in some way serve or cheer one who had suffered so deeply. Among this number were Sir James and Lady Kay-Shut- tleworth. 1 Their house lies over the crest of the moors 1 Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth (1804-1877), a doctor of medicine, who was made a baronet in 1849, on resigning the secretaryship of the Committee of Council on Educalion ; assumed the name of Shuttle- worth on his marriage, in 1842, to Janet, the only child and heiress of 456 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE which rise above Haworth, afc about a dozen miles' distance as the crow flies, though much further by the road. But, according to the acceptation of the word in that uninhabited Robert Shuttleworth of Gawthorpe Hall, Burnley (died 1872). His son, the present baronet, is the Right Hon. Sir Ughtred James Kay- Shuttleworth. 'Amongst others,' writes Charlotte Bronte to Miss Nussey (March 5, 1850), ' Sir J. K. -Shuttleworth and Lady S. have persisted in com- ing ; they were here on Friday. The baronet looks in vigorous health ; he scarcely appears more than thirty - five, but he says he is forty-four. Lady Shuttleworth is rather handsome, and still young. They were both quite unpretending. When here they again urged me to visit them. Papa took their side at once — would not hear of my refusing. I must go — this left me without plea or defence. I consented to go for three days. They wanted me to return with them in the carriage, but I pleaded off till to-morrow. I wish it was well over.' To Mr. Williams Miss Bronte writes (March 16, 1850)— Mrs. Gaskell quotes a fragment of the letter in the text : — ' I mentioned, I think, that we had one or two visitors at Haworth lately ; amongst them were Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth and his lady. Before departing they exacted a promise that I would visit them at Gawthorpe Hall, their residence on the borders of East Lancashire. I went reluctantly, for it is always a difficult and painful thing to me to meet the advances of people whose kindness I am in no position to repay. Sir James is a man of polished manners, with clear intellect and highly cultivated mind. On the whole I got on very well with him. His health is just now somewhat broken by his severe official labours ; and the quiet drives to old ruins and old halls situate amongst older hills and woods, the dialogues (perhaps I should rather' say monologues, for I listened far more than I talked) by the fireside in his antique oak-panelled drawing-room, while they suited him did not too much oppress and exhaust me. The house, too, is very much to my taste, near three centuries old, grey, stately, and picturesque. On the whole, now that the visit is over, I do not regret having paid it. The worst of it is that there is now some menace hanging over my head of an invitation to go to them in London during the season ; this, which would doubtless be a great enjoyment to some people, is a perfect terror to me. I should highly prize the advantages to be gained in an extended range of observation, but I tremble at the thought of the price I must necessarily pay in mental distress and' HAWOKTH OLD HALL. 1850 JARGON ABOUT ART 457 district, they were neighbours, if they so willed it. Ac- cordingly Sir James and his wife drove over one morning, at the beginning of March, to call upon Miss Bronte" and her father. Before taking leave they pressed her to visit them at Gawthorpe Hall, their residence on the borders of Bast Lancashire. After some hesitation, and at the urgency of her father, who was extremely anxious to procure for her any change of scene and society that was offered, she consented to go. On the whole she enjoyed her visit very much, in spite of her shyness, and the difficulty she always experi- enced in meeting the advances of those strangers whose kindness she did not feel herself in a position to repay. She took great pleasure in the ' quiet drives to old ruins and old halls, situated among older hills and woods ; the dialogues by the old fireside in the antique oak-panelled drawing-room, while they suited him, 1 did not too much oppress and exhaust me. The house, too, is much to my taste; near three centuries old, grey, stately, and pictu- resque. On the whole, now that the visit is over, I do not regret having paid it. The worst of it is that there is now some menace hanging over my head of an invitation to go to them in London during the season. This, which would be a great enjoyment to some people, is a perfect terror to me. I should highly prize the advantages to be gained in an ex- tended range of observation ; but I tremble at the thought of the price I must necessarily pay in mental distress and physical wear and tear.' On the same day on which she wrote the above she sent the following letter to Mr. Smith. ' March 16, 1850. ' I ( return Mr. H 's note, after reading it carefully. I tried very hard to understand all he says about art ; but, to speak truth, my efforts were crowned with incomplete suc- cess. There is a certain jargon in use amongst critics on physical wear and tear. But you shall have no more of my confes- sions ; to you they will appear folly.' 1 Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth. 458 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE this point through which it is physically and morally im- possible to me to see daylight. One thing, however, I see plainly enough, and that is, Mr. Currer Bell needs improve- ment, and ought to strive after it; and this (D.V.) he honestly intends to do — taking his time, however, and fol- lowing as his guides Nature and Truth. If these lead to what the critics call art, it is all very well ; but if not, that grand desideratum has no chance of being run after or caught. The puzzle is, that while the people of the South object to my delineation of Northern life and manners, the people of Yorkshire and Lancashire approve. They say it is precisely the contrast of rough nature with highly arti- ficial cultivation which forms one of their main charac- teristics. Such, or something very similar, has been the observation made to me lately, whilst I have been from home, by members of some of the ancient Bast Lancashire families, whose mansions lie on the hilly borderland be- tween the two counties. The question arises, whether do the London critics, or the old Northern squires, understand the matter best ? ' Any promise you require respecting the books shall be willingly given, provided only I am allowed the Jesuit's principle of a mental reservation, giving license to f orgeb and promise whenever oblivion shall appear expedient. The last two or three numbers of " Pendennis" will not, I dare say, be generally thought sufficiently exciting, yet I like them. Though the story lingers (for me), the interest does not flag. Here and there we feel that the pen has been guided by a tired hand, that the mind of the writer has been somewhat chafed and depressed by his recent illness, or by some other cause ; but Thackeray still proves himself greater when he is weary than other writers are when they are fresh. The public, of course, will have no compassion for his fatigue, and make no allowance foi the ebb of inspira- tion ; but some true-hearted readers here and there, while grieving that such a man should be obliged to write when he is not in the mood, will wonder that, under such circum- 1850 WELCOME BOOKS 459 stances, he should write so well. The parcel of books will come, I doubt not, at such time as it shall suit the good pleasure of the railway officials to send it on — or rather to yield it up to the repeated and humble solicitations of Haworth carriers — till when I wait in all reasonable patience and resignation, looking with docility to that model of active self-helpfulness "Punch" friendly offers the "Women of England " in his " Unprotected Female."" i The books lent her by her publishers were,, as I have be- fore said, a great solace and pleasure to her. There was much interest in opening the Cornhill parcel. But there was pain too ; for, as she untied the cords, and took out the volumes one by one, she could scarcely fail to be re- minded of those who once, on similar occasions, looked on so eagerly. 'I miss familiar voices, commenting mirth- fullyand pleasantly ; the room seems very still — very empty. But yet there is consolation in remembering that papa will ■ take pleasure in some of the books. Happiness quite un- shared can scarcely be called happiness ; it has no taste.' She goes on to make remarks upon the kind of books sent. ' I wonder how you can choose so well ; on no account would I forestall the choice. I am sure any selection I might make for myself would be less satisfactory than the selection others so kindly and judiciously make for me; besides, if I knew all that was coming it would be com- paratively flat. I would much rather not know. 'Amongst the especially welcome works are " Southey's Life,"" the "Women of Prance," 3 Hazlitt's " Essays," Em- 1 In Punch, from November 3, 1849, to April 20, 1850, there appeared twenty ' Scenes from the Life of an Unprotected Female,' in dialogue and stage directions. a The Life and Correspondence of the late Robert Southey, in six vol- umes, edited by his son the Rev. Charles Cuthbert Southey, was pub- lished by the LoDgmans in 1849-50. 3 Women in France during the Eighteenth Century was by Julia Kav- anagh (1824-1877). 460 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE erson's " Representative Men ;" but it seems invidious to particularise when all are good. ... I took up a second small book, Scott's "Suggestions on Female Education;" 1 that, too, I read, and with unalloyed pleasure. It is very good ; justly thought, and clearly and felicitously ex- pressed. The girls of this generation have great advan- tages ; it seems to, me that they receive much encourage- ment in the acquisition of knowledge and the cultivation of their minds ; in these days women may be thoughtful and well read, without being universally stigmatised as " Blues " and " Pedants." Men begin to approve and aid, instead of ridiculing or checking them in their efforts to be wise. I must say that, for my own part, whenever I have been so happy as to share the conversation of a really intellectual man, my feeling has been, not that the little I knew was accounted a superfluity and impertinence, but that I did not know enough to satisfy just expectation. I have always to explain, " In me you must not look for great attainments : what seems to you the result of. read- ing and study is chiefly spontaneous and intuitive." . . . Against the teaching of some (even clever) men, one in- stinctively revolts. They may possess attainments, they may boast varied knowledge of life and of the world ; but if of the finer perceptions, of the more delicate phases of feel- ing, they may be destitute and incapable, of what avail is the rest ? Believe me, while hints well worth considera- tion may come from unpretending sources, from minds not highly cultured, but naturally fine and delicate, from hearts kindly, feeling, and unenvious, learned dictums delivered with pomp and sound may be perfectly empty, stupid, and contemptible. No man ever yet "by aid of Greek climbed Parnassus," or taught others to climb it. . . . ' I enclose for your perusal a scrap of paper which came into my hands without the knowledge of the writer. He 1 Suggestions on Female Education, by Alexander John Scott (1805— 1866), the first Principal of Owens College, was published in 1849. 1850 THE CURATES OF 'SHIRLEY' 461 is a poor working man of this village — a thoughtful, read- ing, feeling being, whose mind is too keen for his frame, and wears it out. I have not spoken to him above thrice in my life, for he is a Dissenter, and has rarely come in my way. The document is a sort of record of his feelings, after the perusal of "Jane Eyre ;" it is artless and earnest, genuine and generous. You must return it to me, for I value it more than testimonies from higher sources. He said " Miss Bronte, if she knew he had written it, would scorn him ;" but, indeed, Miss Bronte does not scorn him ; she only grieves that a mind of which this is the emanation should be kept crushed by the leaden hand of poverty — by the trials of uncertain health and the claims of a large family. 'As to the "Times," as you say, the acrimony of its critique has proved, in some measure, its own antidote ; to have been more effective it should have been juster. I think it has had little weight up here in the North : it may be that annoying remarks, if made, are not suffered to reach my ear ; but certainly, while I have heard little condemna- tory of "Shirley," more than once have I been deeply moved by manifestations of even enthusiastic approbation. I deem it unwise to dwell much on these matters ; but for once I must permit myself to remark, that the generous pride many of the Yorkshire people have taken in the mat- ter has been such as to awake and claim my gratitude, es- pecially since it has afforded a source of reviving pleasure to my father in his old age. The very curates, poor fel- lows ! show no resentment : each characteristically finds solace for his own wounds in crowing over his brethren. Mr. Donne was, at first, a little disturbed ; for a week or two he was in disquietude, but he is now soothed down ; only yesterday I had the pleasure of making him a com- fortable cup of tea, and seeing him sip it with revived com- placency. 1 It is a curious fact that, since he read "Shirley," 1 The three curates of Shirley were, it will be remembered, Mr. Donne, curate of Whinbury ; Mr. Malone, curate of Briarfield ; and 462 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE he has come to the house oftener than ever, and been re- markably meek, and assiduous to please. Some people's natures are veritable enigmas : I quite expected to have had one good scene at least with him ; but as yet nothing of the sort has occurred/ Mr. Sweeting, curate of Nunnely. Mr. Donne was Mr. Grant of Ox- enhope ; Mr. Malone was Mr. Smith of Haworth ; Mr. Sweeting was Mr. Bradley of Oakworth. Mr. Smith was succeeded in the Haworth curacy by Mr. A. B. Nicholls, who is pleasantly referred to in Shirley as successor to Mr. Malone. OHAPTEE XX During the earlier months of this spring Haworth was extremely unhealthy. The weather was damp, low fever was prevalent, and the household at the Parsonage suffered along with its neighbours. Charlotte says, ' I have felt it (the fever) in frequent thirst and infrequent appetite ; papa too, and even Martha, have complained.' This depression of health produced depression of spirits, and she grew more and more to dread the proposed journey to London with Sir James and Lady Kay-Shuttleworth. ' I know what the ef- fect and what the pain will be, how wretched I shall often feel, and how thin and haggard I shall get ; but he who shuns suffering will never win victory. If I mean to im- prove, I must strive and endure. ... Sir James has been a physician, and looks at me with a physician's eye : he saw at once that I could not stand much fatigue, nor bear the presence of many strangers. I believe he would partly un- derstand how soon my stock of animal spirits was brought to a low ebb ; but none — not the most skilful physician — can get at more than the outside of these things : the heart knows its own bitterness, and the frame its own poverty, and the mind its own struggles. Papa is eager and restless for me to go ; the idea of a refusal quite hurts him." 1 On April 18 she wrote to Mr. George Smith— ' As you say, the dividend business had better be deferred till I come to London ; I shall then have an opportunity of emulating " Mrs. Martha Struggles" by going to the Bank for myself. 'You must be kind enough to thank your mother and sisters for their friendly remembrances. Probably I shall look forward to seeing them with at least as much pleasure as they will anticipate seeing me. 464 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE But the sensations of illness in the family increased ; the symptoms were probably aggravated, if not caused, by the immediate vicinity of the churchyard, ' paved with rain- blackened tombstones/ On April 29 she writes — * We have had but a poor week of it at Haworth. Papa continues far from well ; he is often very sickly in the morning, a symptom which I have remarked before in his aggravated attacks of bronchitis; unless he should get much better I shall never think of leaving him to go to London. Martha has suffered from tic-donloureux, with sickness and fever, just like you. I have a bad cold, and a stubborn sore throat ; in short, everybody but old Tabby is out of sorts. When was here he complained of a sudden headache, and the night after he was gone I had something similar, very bad, lasting about {hree hours.' A fortnight later she writes — ' I did not think papa well enough to be left, and accord- ingly begged Sir James and Lady Kay-Shuttleworth to re- turn to London without me. It was arranged that we were to stay at several of their friends' and relatives' house on the way ; a week or more would have been taken up on the journey. I cannot say that I regret having missed this I have but a vague idea of the chances for observing society my in- tended visit may afford, but my imagination is very much inclined to repose on the few persons I already know, as a sort of oasis in the wil- derness. Introduction to strangers is only a trial ; it is the meeting with friends that gives pleasure. ' On no account should you have dreamed that I was coming to town ; I confess with shame that I have so much superstition in my nature as makes me reluctant to hear of the fulfilment of my dream, however pleasant ; if the good dreams come true, so may the bad ones, and we have more of the latter than of the former. ' That there are certain organisations liable to anticipating impres- sions in the form of dream or presentiment I half believe, but that you, a man of business, have any right to be one of these I wholly deny. "No prophet can come out of Nazareth" (i.e. Cornhill).' 1850 JOU11NEY TO LONDON POSTPONED 465 ordeal ; I would as lief have walked among red-hot plough- shares ; but I do regret one great treat, which I shall now miss. Next Wednesday is the anniversary dinner of the Eoyal Literary Fund Society, held in Freemason's Hall. Octavian Blewitt, the secretary, offered me a ticket for the ladies' gallery. 1 I should have seen all the great literati and artists gathered in the hall below, and heard them speak ; Thackeray and Dickens are always present among the rest. This cannot now be. I don't think all London can afford another sight to me so interesting.' It became requisite, however, before long, that she should go to London on business ; and, as Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth was detained in the country by indispo- sition, she accepted Mrs. Smith's invitation to stay quietly at her house while she transacted her affairs. In the interval between the relinquishment of the first plan and the adoption of the second she wrote the follow- ing letter to one who was much valued among her literary friends: ' ' May 22. 'I had thought to bring the " Leader" and the " Athe- naeum " myself this time, and not to have to send them by post, but it turns out otherwise ; my journey to London is again postponed, and this time indefinitely. Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth's state of health is the cause — a cause, I fear, not likely to be soon removed. . . . Once more, then, I settle myself down in the quietude of Haworth Parsonage, with books for my household companions and an occasional letter for a visitor ; a mute society, but neither quarrelsome, nor vulgarizing, nor unimproving. ' One of the pleasures I had promised myself consisted in asking you several questions about the " Leader," which is really, in its way, an interesting paper. I wanted, amongst 1 The custom of admitting ladies to the gallery when the dinner is over, in order that they may listen to the speeches, still obtains at Eoyal Literary Fund dinners. 2 James Taylor. 466 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE other things, to ask yon the real names of some of the con- tributors, and also what Lewes writes besides his "Appren- ticeship of Life." I always think the article headed "Lit- erature " is his. Some of the communications in the " Open Council " department are odd productions ; but it seems to me very fair and right to admit them. Is not the system of the paper altogether a novel one ? I do not remember seeing anything precisely like it before. ' I have just received yours of this morning ; thank you for the enclosed note. The longings for liberty and leisure, which May sunshine wakens in you, stir my sympathy. I am afraid Cornhill is little better than a prison for its inmates on warm spring or summer days. It is a pity to think of you all toiling at your desks in such genial weather as this. For my part, I am free to walk on the moors ; but when I go out there alone everything reminds me of the times when others were with me, and then the moors seem a wilderness, featureless, solitary, saddening. My sister Emily had a particular love for them, and there is not a knoll of heather, not a branch of fern, not a young bilberry leaf, not a fluttering lark or linnet, but reminds me of her. The distant prospects were Anne's delight, and when I look round she is in the blue tints, the pale mists, the waves and shadows of the horizon. In the hill-country silence their poetry comes by lines and stanzas into my mind : once I loved it ; now I dare not read it, and am driven often to wish I could taste one draught of oblivion, and forget much that, while mind remains, I never shall forget. Many peo- ple seem to recall their departed relatives with a sort of mel- ancholy complacency, but I think these have not watched them through lingering sickness, nor witnessed their last moments : it is these reminiscences that stand by your bed- side at night, and rise at your pillow in the morning. At the end of all, however, exists the Great Hope. Eternal Life is theirs now.' She had to write many letters, about this time, to au- 1850 LETTER TO A STRANGER 467 thors who sent her their books, and strangers who expressed their admiration of her own. The following was in reply to one of the latter class, and was addressed to a young man at Cambridge : — ' May 23, 1850. ' Apologies are indeed unnecessary for a " reality of feel- ing, for a genuine, unaffected impulse of the spirit," such as prompted you to write the letter which I now briefly ac- knowledge. ' Certainly it is " something to me " that what I write should be acceptable to the feeling heart and refined intel- lect ; undoubtedly it is much to me that my creations (such as they are) should find harbourage, appreciation, indul- gence at any friendly hand, or from any generous mind. You are very welcome to take Jane, Caroline, and Shirley for your sisters, and I trust they will often speak to their adopted brother when he is solitary, and soothe him when he is sad. If they cannot make themselves at home in a thoughtful, sympathetic mind, and diffuse through its twi- light a cheering domestic glow, it is their fault ; they are not, in that case, so amiable, so benignant, not so real as they ought to be. If they can, and can find household altars in human hearts, they will fulfil the best design of their creation in therein maintaining a genial flame, which shall warm but not scorch, light but not dazzle. 'What does it matter that part of your pleasure in such beings has its source in the poetry of your own youth rather than any magic of theirs ? What that perhaps, ten years hence, you may smile to remember your present recollec- tions, and view under another light both " Currer Bell " and his writings ? To me this consideration does not de- tract from the value of what you now feel. Youth has its romance, and maturity its wisdom, as morning and spring have their freshness, noon and summer their power, night and winter their repose. Each attribute is good in its own season. Your letter gave me pleasure, and I thank you for it. Cubeer Bkll.' 468 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BEONTE Miss Bronte went up to town at the beginning of June, 1 and much enjoyed her^ stay there ; seeing very few per- sons, according to the agreement she made before she went; and limiting her visit to a fortnight, dreading the feverishness and exhaustion which were the inevitable con- sequences of the slightest excitement upon her susceptible frame. ' June 12. ' Since I wrote to you last I have not had many moments to myself, except such as it was absolutely necessary to 1 On May 25 she wrote to Mrs. Smith, now residing at 76 Gloucester Terrace — 'You shall hear exactly how I am situated. Yesterday's post brought me a note from Sir J. K.-Shuttleworth, intimating that he is something better, reminding me that my visit is only postponed, and requesting an assurance to the effect that I will keep myself dis- engaged, adding these words : " Promise me that your first venture in this oceanic life shall be with me." As the note betrayed much of that nervous anxiety inseparable from his state of health, I hastened to give him this promise ; this, you will perceive, ties me down for the present. 'I consider it, however, very doubtful whether he will be well enough to render my visit advisable ; and even should I go, still my conviction is that a brief stay will seem to me the best. In that case, after a few days with my "fashionable friends" as you call them, I believe I should be excessively disposed, and probably profoundly thankful, to subside into any quiet corner of your drawing-room where I might find a chair of suitable height. ' I am sorry you have changed your residence, as I shall now again lose my way in going up and down stairs, and stand in great tribu- lation, contemplating several doors and not knowing which to open. ' I regret that my answer to your kind note must be so incon- clusive ; the lapse of a fortnight or three weeks will probably facili- tate a decision. In the meantime, with kindest regards to your fam- • ily circle . . . ' Any peculant post-office clerk who shall mistake the contents of this letter for a bank note will find himself in the wrong box. You see they are finished.'* * The reference is to a pair of baby's socks that Miss Bronte had knitted. 1850 VISIT TO LONDON 469 give to rest. On the whole, however, I have thus far got on very well, suffering much less from exhaustion than I did last time. ' Of course I cannot give you in a letter a regular chroni- cle of how my time has been spent. I can only just notify what I deem three of its chief incidents — a sight of the Duke of "Wellington at the Chapel Koyal (he is a real grand old man), a visit to the House of Commons (which I hope to describe to you some day when I see you), and last, not least, an interview with Mr. Thackeray. He made me a morning call, and sat about two hours. Mr. Smith only was in the room the whole time. He described it after- wards as a "queer scene," and I suppose it was. The giant sate before me ; I was moved to speak to him of some of his shortcomings (literary of course) ; one by one the faults came into my head, and one by one I brought them out, and sought some explanation or defence. He did defend himself like a great Turk and heathen — that is to say, the excuses were often worse than the ci'ime itself. The matter ended in decent amity ; if all be well I am to dine at his house this evening. 'I have seen Lewes too. 1 ... I could not feel otherwise to him than half sadly, half tenderly — a queer word that last, but I use it because the aspect of Lewes's face almost moves me to tears ; it is so wonderfully like Emily — her eyes, her features, the very nose, the somewhat prominent mouth, the forehead — even, at moments, the expression ; whatever Lewes says, I believe I cannot hate him. An- other likeness I have seen, too, that touched me sorrow- fully. You remember my speaking of a Miss Kavanagh,* 1 The omitted passage runs — ' He is a man with both weaknesses and sins, but, unless I err greatly, the foundation of his nature is not bad, and were he almost a fiend in character I could not feel,' &c. (letter to Miss Ellen Nussey, dated June 12, 1850). Mrs. Gaskell omits a line or two. Lewes described Charlotte Bronte as ' a little, plain, provincial , sickly-looking, old maid ' {Life of George Eliot, by J. W. Cross). 2 Julia Kavanagh, who is here compared with Martha Taylor, was 470 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE a young authoress, who supported her mother by writing ? Hearing that she had a longing to see me, I called on her yesterday. . . . She met me half frankly, half trembling- ly ; we sat down together, and when I had talked with her five minutes her face was no longer strange, but mournfully familiar — it was Martha 1 in every lineament. I shall try to find a moment to see her again. ... I do not intend to stay here, at the furthest, more than a week longer ; but at the end of that time I cannot go home, for the house at Haworth is just now unroofed ; repairs were become neces- sary.' That same day, June 12, she wrote Martha the follow- ing letter. I give these letters with particular pleasure, as they show her peculiarly womanly character ; and the care with which they have been preserved, and the reverence with which they are looked upon, serve to give the lie to Rochefoucauld's celebrated maxim. Charlotte Bronte was a heroine to her servant Martha — and to those who knew her best. ' London : June 15, 1850. ' Dear Martha, — I have not forgotten my promise of writing to you, though a multitude and variety of engage- ments have hitherto prevented me from fulfilling it. 'It appears, from a letter I received from papa this morning, that you are now all in the bustle of unroofing ; and I look with much anxiety on a somewhat cloudy sky, hoping and trusting that it will not rain till all is covered in. ' You and Martha Redman are to take care not to break your backs with attempting to lift and carry heavy weights ; also you are not foolishly to run into draughts, go out with- out caps or bonnets, or otherwise take measures to make yourselves ill. I am rather curious to know how you have managed about a sleeping-place for yourself and Tabby. an Irish writer who was born at Thurles, co. Tipperary, in 1824, and died at Nice in 1877. Madelaine an&Nathalie were her principal works. 1 The friend of her youth, who died at Brussels {Note by Mrs. Gaskett). 1850 LONDON AND EDINBURGH COMPARED 471 'You must not expect that I should give you any par- ticular description of London, as that would take up a good deal of time, and I have only a few minutes to spare. I shall merely say that it is a Babylon of a place, and just now particularly gay and noisy, as this is what is called the height of the London season, and all the fine people are in town. I saw a good many lords and ladies at the Opera a few nights since, and, except for their elegant dresses, do not think them either much better or much worse than other people. ' In answer to this you may, when yon have time, write me a few lines, in which you may say how papa is, how you and Tabby are, how the house is getting on, and how Mr. Nicholls prospers. 'With kind regards to Tabby, and Martha Redman, I am, dear Martha, your sincere friend, C. Bronte.' She soon followed her letter to the friend to whom it was written ; but her visit was a very short one, for, in accord- ance with a plan made before leaving London, she went on to Edinburgh to join the friends with whom she had been staying in town. She remained only a few days in Scot- land, and those were principally spent in Edinburgh, with which she was delighted, calling London a ' dreary place ' in comparison. 'My stay in Scotland,' she wrote some weeks later, 1 'was short, and what I saw was chiefly comprised in Edinburgh and the neighbourhood, in Abbotsford, and in Melrose, for I was obliged to relinquish my first intention of going from Glasgow to Oban, and thence through a portion of the High- lands ; but though the time was brief, and the view of ob- jects limited, I found such a charm of situation, association, and circumstance, that I think the enjoyment experienced in that little space equalled in degree, and excelled in kind, 1 To Miss Lsetitia Wheelwright. The letter is dated Haworth, July 30, 1850. 472 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE all which London yielded during a month's sojourn. Edin- burgh compared to London is like a vivid page of history- compared to a large dull treatise on political economy ; and as to Melrose and Abbotsford, the very names possess music and magic' And again, in a letter to a different correspondent, 1 she 'I would not write to you immediately on my arrival at home, because each return to this old house brings with it a phase of feeling which it is better to pass through quiet- ly before beginning to indite letters. The six weeks of change and enjoyment are past, but they are not lost ; memory took a sketch of each as it went by, and, especial- ly, a distinct daguerreotype of the two days I spent in Scot- land. Those were two very pleasant days. I always liked Scotland as an idea, but now, as a reality, I like it far bet- ter ; it furnished me with some hours as happy almost as any I ever spent. Do not fear, however, that I am going to bore you with description; you will, before now, have received a pithy and pleasant report of all things, to which any addition of mine would be superfluous. My present endeavours are directed towards recalling my thoughts, cropping their wings, drilling them into correct discipline, and forcing them to settle to some useful work : they are idle, and keep taking the train down to London, or making a foray over the Border — especially are they prone to per- petrate that last excursion ; and who, indeed, that has once seen Edinburgh, with its couchant crag-lion, but must see it again in dreams, waking or sleeping ? My dear Sir, do not think I blaspheme when I tell you that your great London, as compared to Dun-Edin, "mine own romantic town," is as prose compared to poetry, or as a great rumbling, rambling, heavy epic compared to a lyric, brief, bright, clear, and vital as a flash of lightning. You 1 Mr. W. Smith Williams. 1850 RETURN TO HAWORTH 473 have nothing like Scott's monument, or if you had that, and all the glories of architecture assembled together, you have nothing like Arthur's Seat, and above all you have not the Scotch national character ; and it is that grand character after all which gives the land its true charm, its true greatness.' On her return from Scotland she again spent a few days with her friends, 1 and then made her way to Haworth. 1 At Brookroyd with the Nusseys. From Brookroyd she writes to Mr. George Smith on June 27 — ' It is written that I should not meet you at Tarbet, and at this perversity of the Fates I should be much more concerned than I am if I did not feel very certain that the loss in the matter will be chiefly my own. Of your three plans the last is the only one found practicable ; Edinburgh is the true Philippi, and there I hope (D. V.) to see you again next Wednesday. 'I left Sarah much better, but I think your mother had decided against her going to Scotland, thinking the journey too long. ' Before I left London I had the opportunity of bidding Mr. Thack- eray good-bye without going to his house for the purpose, and of this I was very glad. 'My call on Mrs. and Miss proved ineffectual as the two ladies were gone out of town for the day, a circumstance keenly to be regretted, as I thus lose the pleasure of communicating a few words of "latest intelligence" where they would be so acceptable. ' With kind regards to your sister, and hopes that she has thus far borne her journey well.' She wrote to Mrs. Smith on June 28 — 'I arrived here safely about four o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, having performed the journey with less inconvenience from headache, &c., than I ever remember to have experienced before ; nor was I ill the next day. 'It is now settled that I may go to Edinburgh, but not to Tarbet, and I have written to Mr. Smith to that effect. I only hope he will not be at all disappointed ; and indeed, as he is now in the full excite- ment of his term, the change of plan will probably appear of no con- sequence. ' I could fill a page or two with acknowledgments of your kindness to me while in London, but I don't think you would care to hear much on the subject ; I will only say that I never remember to have 474 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE 'July 15. ' 'I got home very well, and full glad was I that no in- superable obstacle had deferred my return one single day longer. Just at the foot of Bridgehouse Hill I met John (Greenwood), staff in hand ; he fortunately saw me in the cab, stopped, and informed me he was setting off to B(rook- royd), by Mr. Bronte's orders, to see how I was, for that he had been quite miserable ever since he got Miss (N ussey)'s letter. I found, on my arrival, that papa had worked him- self up to a sad pitch of nervous excitement and alarm, in which Martha and Tabby were but too obviously joining him. . . . The house looks very clean, and, I think, is not damp ; there is, however, still a great deal to do in the way of settling and arranging, enough to keep me disagreeably busy for some time to come. I was truly thankful to find papa pretty well, but I fear he is just beginning to show symptoms of a cold : my cold continues better. ... An article in a newspaper I found awaiting me on my arrival amused me ; it was a paper published while I was in Lon- don. I enclose it to give you a laugh ; it professes to be written by an author jealous of authoresses. I do not know who he is, but he must be one of those I met. 2 . . . The "ugly men," giving themselves "Rochester airs," is no bad hit ; some of those alluded to will not like it.' While Miss Bronte was staying in London she was in- duced to sit for her portrait to Richmond. It is a crayon drawing; in my judgment an admirable likeness, though, of course, there is some difference of opinion on the sub- ject ; and, as usual, those best acquainted with the original were the least satisfied with the resemblance. 3 Mr. Bronte enjoyed myself more in the same length of time. With love to Sarah and Bell believe me, my dear Mrs. Smith.' . . . 1 To Miss Ellen Nussey. 2 The omitted words are ' I saw Geraldine Jewsbury and Mrs. Crowe.' 3 The portrait, which has been reproduced three separate times, is, 1850 PORTRAIT BY RICHMOND 475 thought that it looked older than Charlotte did, and that her features had not been flattered; but he acknowledged that the expression was wonderfully good and lifelike. ' She sent the following amusing account of the arrival of the portrait to the donor : — as has been said already, the only extant likeness of Miss Bronte. It was engraved for the earlier editions of Mrs. Gaskell's Memoir, pho- tographed and reproduced In photogravure in Charlotte Bronte and her Circle, and sent over from Ireland for reproduction in the edition of Jane Eyre with which this volume is issued. The portrait was the gift of Mr. George Smith to Mr. Bronte (see note, p. 58). Other por- traits, including one that was long in the possession of Martha Brown's family, are declared by Mr. Nicholls to be copies of Richmond's por- trait slightly altered. Patrick Bronte's portrait of his sister was de- stroyed, and the Bradford artist- friends of Branwell had left the neighbourhood before Charlotte became sufficiently famous to make a portrait desirable. 1 She wrote to Mr. George Smith on July 27 — 'Papa will write and thank you himself for the portrait when it arrives. As for me, you know, a standing interdict seals my lips. ' You thought inaccurately about the copy of the picture as far as my feelings are concerned, and yet you judged rightly on the whole ; for it is my intention that the original drawing shall one day return to your hands. As the production of a true artist it will always have a certain worth, independently of subject. ' I owe you two debts : I did not pay for my cards, nor for the power of attorney. Let me request you to be at once good and just, and tell me to what these little items amouuted. 'Were you still in Glencoe, or even in Edinburgh, I might write you a longer and more discursive letter, but, mindful of the " fitness of things," and of the effect of locality, reverent too of the claims of busi- ness, I will detain your attention no longer. ' Tell your sister Eliza I am truly glad to hear that she has derived so much benefit from her excursion ; remember me very kindly to her your mother, and the rest of your circle.' The letter that Mr. Bronte himself wrote in acknowledgment of Mr. Smith's gifts is fittingly given here. ' Haworth, near Keighley : 'August 2, 1850. 'My dear Sir,— The two portraits have, at length, safely arrived, Rnrt have been as safely hung up, in the best light and most favour- 476 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' August 1. 'The little box for me came at the same time as the large one for papa. When you first told me that yon had had the Duke's picture framed, and had given it to me, I felt half provoked with yon for performing such a work of supererogation, but now, when I see it again, I cannot but acknowledge that, in so doing, you were felicitously in- spired. It is his very image, and, as papa said when he saw it, scarcely in the least like the ordinary portraits ; not only the expression, but even the form of the head is dif- ferent, and of a far nobler character. I esteem it a treas- ure. The lady who left the parcel for me was, it seems, able position. Without flattery the artist, in the portrait of my daughter, has fully proved that the fame which he has acquired has been fairly earned. Without ostentatious display, with admirable tact and delicacy, he has produced a correct likeness, and succeeded in a graphic representation of mind as well as matter, and with only black and white has given prominence and seeming life, and speech, and motion. I may be partial, and perhaps somewhat enthusiastic, in this case, but in looking on the picture, which improves upon acquaint- ance, as all r^al works of art do, I fancy I see strong indications of the genius of the author of Shirley and Jane Eyre. ' The portrait of the Duke of Wellington of all which I have seen comes the nearest to my preconceived idea of that great man, to whom Europe, and the other portions of the civilised world, in the most dangerous crisis of their affairs, entrusted their cause, and in whom, under Providence, they did not trust in vain. It now remains for me only to thank you, which I do most sincerely. For the sake of the giver as well as the gift I will lay the portraits up for life amongst my most highly valued treasures, and have only to regret that some are missing who, with better taste and skill than I have, would have fully partaken of my joy. ' I beg leave to remain, with much respect, ' My dear Sir, ' Yours faithfully, 'P. Bronte. •G. Smith, Esq., 65 Cornhill, London.' ' Please to give my kindest and most respectful regards to Mr. Will- iams, whom I have often heard of but never seen, and to Mr. Taylor, whom I had the pleasure of seeing when he ventured into this wild region.' 1850 MOMENTS OF ANXIETY 477 Mrs. Gore. 1 The parcel contained one of her works, "The Hamiltons," and a very civil and friendly note, in which I find myself addressed as " Dear Jane." Papa seems much pleased with the portrait, as do the few other persons who have seen it, with one notable exception, viz. our old ser- vant, who tenaciously maintains that it is not like — that it is too old-looking — but, as she, with equal tenacity, as- serts that the Duke of Wellington's picture is a portrait of "the Master" (meaning papa), I am afraid not much weight is to be ascribed to her opinion ; doubtless she con- fuses her recollections of me as I was in childhood with present impressions. Eequesting always to be very kindly remembered to your mother and sisters, I am yours very thanklessly (according to desire), C. Bkojtte.' It may easily be conceived that two people living to- gether as Mr. Bronte and his daughter did, almost entirely dependent on each other for society, and loving each other deeply (although not demonstratively) — that these two last members of a family would have their moments of keen anxiety respecting each other's health. There is not one letter of hers which I have read that does not contain some mention of her father's state in this respect. Either she thanks God with simple earnestness that he is well, or some infirmities of age beset him, and she mentions the fact, and then winces away from it, as from a sore that will not bear to be touched. He, in his turn, noted every in- disposition of his one remaining child, exaggerated its nat- ure, and sometimes worked himself up into a miserable state of anxiety, as in the case she refers to, when, her friend having named in a letter to him that his daughter was suffering from a bad cold, he could not rest till he despatched a messenger, to go, ' staff in hand,' a distance 1 Catherine Grace Frances Moody, Mrs. Gore (1799-1861), wrote about seventy books ; The Hamiltons, or the New Era, published in 1834, be- ing her sixteenth. 478 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE of fourteen miles, and see with his own eyes what was her real state, and return and report. She evidently felt that this natural anxiety on the part of her father and friend increased the nervous depression of her own spirits whenever she was ill ; and in the fol- lowing letter she expresses her strong wish that the sub- ject of her health should be as little alluded to as possi- ble: 1 — •There is a letter to Mr. George Smith, dated August 5: — 'My dear Sir, — You are rather formidable in your last note, and yet your menace has for me little terror. The charge is drawn from your two barrels by this fact: I do not thank you in ignorance, nor in puerile misconception, nor on hollow grounds. Do not fear that I suppose the benefit to be all on my side. Rest assured I regard these matters from a less unpractical point of view than you perhaps imagine. Though women are not taught the minutiae and the mysteries of busi- ness, yet in the course of observation they manage to gather up some general idea of the leading principles on which it is conducted, and, if you reflect, it would betray a redundancy of vanity, as well as a lack of common sense, in any individual who should imagine that, in car- rying out those principles, an exception has been made in her fa- vour. ' Apart, however, from considerations of business there are others such as cannot indeed be entered in a ledger, nor calculated by rules of arithmetic, but of which, nevertheless, we all keep a record, and to which, according to our cast of mind, and also our cast of circum- stances, we ascribe a greater or less value. The manner of doing a kind, or, if you will, merely a just action, the degree of pleasure that manner imparts, the amount of happiness derived from a given source — these things cannot indeed be handled, paid away and bartered for material possessions, as many can, but they colour our thoughts and leaven our feelings, just as the sunshine of a warm day or the im- pressions of delight left by fine scenery might do. "We may owe as deep a debt for golden moments as can ever be incurred for golden coin. ' This will be read in Cornhill, and will not sound practical, but yet it is practical ; I believe it to be a sober theory enough. 'I enclose a post-office order for 11. lis. Qd., and beg to subscribe myself yours, &c.(is not this an unobjectionable form?), C. Bronte. 'P.S. — The peculating post-office clerk, evidently holding a pub- lisher's principles respecting the value of poetry, has not paid Words- 1850 LETTER TO HER PUBLISHER 479 ' August 7. 'I am truly sorry that I allowed the words to which you refer to escape my lips, since their effect on you has been unpleasant; but try to chase every shadow of anxiety from your mind, and, unless the restraint be very disagreeable to you, permit me to add an earnest request that you will broach the subject to me no more. It is the undisguised and most harassing anxiety of others that has fixed in my mind thoughts and expectations which must canker wher- ever they take root ; against which every effort of religion or philosophy must at times totally fail ; and subjugation to which is a cruel, terrible fate — the fate, indeed, of him whose life was passed under a sword suspended by a horse- hair. I have had to entreat papa's consideration on this point. My nervous system is soon wrought on. I should wish to keep it in rational strength and coolness ; but to do so I must determinedly resist the kindly meant but too irksome expression of an apprehension for the realisation or defeat of which I have no possible power to be responsi- ble. At present I am pretty well. Thank God, papa, I trust, is no worse, but he complains of weakness.' worth's book the compliment of detaining it ; it arrived safely and promptly. ' May I tell you how your mourning reveries respecting Glencoe and Loch Katrine will probably end? The thought has just come into my head and must be written down. Some day — you will be even later than usual in making your appearance at breakfast — your anxious mother, on going up to make enquiries, will find you deep in unde- niable inspiration, on the point of completing the 12th canto of "The Highlands : a Grand Descriptive, Romantic, and Sentimental POEM, by Geobge Smith, Esq." ' CHAPTEE XXI Her father was always anxious to procure every change that was possible for her, seeing, as he did, the benefit which she derived from it, however reluctant she might have been to leave her home and him beforehand. This August she was invited to go for a week to the neighbour- hood of Bowness, where Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth had taken a house ; but she says, ' I consented to go, with re- luctance, chiefly to please papa, whom a refusal on my part would much have annoyed ; but I dislike to leave him. I trust he is not worse, but his complaint is still weakness. It is not right to anticipate evil, and to be al- ways looking forward with an apprehensive spirit ; but I think grief is a two-edged sword, it cuts both ways ; the memory of one loss is the anticipation of another.' It was during this visit at the Briery — Lady Kay-Shut- tleworth having kindly invited me to meet her there — that I first made acquaintance with Miss Bronte. 1 If I copy 1 There are two or three earlier references to Mrs. Gaskell in Misa Bronte's correspondence. The first is in a letter to Mr. Smith Will- iams, dated November 20, 1849 ; the second in a letter to the same correspondent, dated November 29 in the same year (see Introduction, p. xxiv). On January 1, 1850, Miss Bronte wrote to Mr. Williams — ' May I beg that a copy of Wuihering 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. 1 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.' In a letter, to her father, dated August 10, 1850, from the Briery, Windermere, Charlotte Bronte says — ' Sir James came to meet me at the station ; both he and Lady Shut- 1850 AT THE BRIERY 481 out part of a letter which I wrote soon after this to a friend, who was deeply interested in her writings, I shall probably convey my first impressions more trnly and fresh- ly than by amplifying what I then said into a longer de- scription. ' Dark when I got to Windermere station ; a drive along the level road to Low-wood ; then a stoppage at a pretty house, and then a pretty drawing-room, in which were Sir James and Lady Kay-Shuttleworth, and a little lady in a black silk gown, whom I could not see at first for the daz- zle in the room ; she came up and shook hands with me at once. I went up to unbonnet, &c. ; came down to tea. The little lady worked away and hardly spoke, but I had time for a good look at her. She is (as she calls herself) undeveloped, thin, and more than half a head shorter than I am ; soft brown hair, not very dark ; eyes (very good and expressive, looking straight and open at you) of the same colour as her hair ; a large mouth ; the forehead square, broad, and rather overhanging. She has a very sweet voice ; rather hesitates in choosing her expressions, but when chosen they seem without an effort admirable, and just befitting the occasion ; there is nothing overstrained, but perfectly simple. . . . After breakfast we four went out on the lake, and Miss Bronte agreed with me in liking Mr. Newman's " Soul," and in liking "Modern Painters," and the idea of the " Seven Lamps ;" and she told me about Father Newman's lectures at the Oratory in a very quiet, concise, graphic way. . . . She is more like Miss than any one in her ways — if you can fancy Miss to have gone through suffering enough to have taken out every spark of merriment, and to be shy and silent from the habit of extreme, intense solitude. Such a life as Miss tleworth 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. ' 31 482 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Bronte's I have never heard of before. described her home to me as in a village of grey stone houses, perched up on the north side of a bleak moor, looking over sweeps of bleak moors, &c. &c. ' We were only three days together, the greater part of which was spent in driving about, in order to show Miss Bronte the Westmoreland scenery, as she had never been there before. We were both included in an invitation to drink tea quietly at Fox How ; and then I saw how severe- ly her nerves were taxed by the effort of going amongst strangers. We knew beforehand that the number of the party would not exceed twelve ; but she suffered the whole day from an acute headache brought on by apprehension of the evening. ' Briery Close was situated high above Low- wood, and of course commanded an extensive view and wide horizon. I was struck by Miss Bronte's careful examination of the shape of the clouds and the signs of the heavens, in which she read, as from a book, what the coming weather would be. I told her that I saw she must have a view equal in extent at her own home. She said that I was right, but that the character of the prospect from Haworth was very different ; that I had no idea what a companion the sky became to any one living in solitude — more than any in- animate object on earth — more than the moors them- selves.' The following extracts 1 convey some of her own impres- sions and feelings respecting this visit : — 'You said I should stay longer than a week in West- moreland ; you ought by this time to know me better. Is it my habit to keep dawdling at 'a place, long after the time I first fixed on for departing ? I have got home, and I am thankful to say papa seems — to say the least — no worse than when I left him, yet I wish he were stronger. My 1 From a letter to Ellen Nussey, dated Haworth, August 26, 1850. 1850 AT THE BRIEEY 483 visit passed off very well ; I am very glad I went. The scenery is, of course, grand ; could I have wandered about amongst those hills alone, I could have drunk in all their beauty; even in a carriage with company it was very well. Sir James was all the while as kind and friendly as he could be ; he is in much better health. 1 . . . Miss Martineau was from home ; she always leaves her house at Ambleside during the Lake season, to avoid the influx of visitors to which she would otherwise be subject. ' If I could only have dropped unseen out of the car- riage, and gone away by myself in amongst those grand hills and sweet dales, I should have drunk in the full power of this glorious scenery. In company this can hardly be. Sometimes, while Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth was warn- ing me against the faults of the artist class, all the while vagrant artist instincts were busy in the mind of his lis- tener. ' I forgot to tell you that, about a week before I went to Westmoreland, there came an invitation to Harden Grange ' (Mr. Busfield Ferrand's place 2 ), 'which, of course, I de- clined. Two or three days after a large party made their appearance here, consisting of Mrs. F (errand) ahd sundry other ladies and two gentlemen ; one tall and stately, black- haired and whiskered, who turned out to be Lord John Manners; the other not so distinguished-looking, shy, and a little queer, who was Mr. Smythe, the son of Lord Strangford. I found Mrs. F(errand) a true lady in man- 1 The following passage is in the original letter : ' Lady Shuttle- worth 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.' , 8 Mr. Ferrand was a considerable landowner, whose ' place,' Harden Grange, is four miles from Haworth. He died in 1889. His wife was the second daughter of the eleventh Lord Blantyre. Mrs. Ferrand died in 1896. 484 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ners and appearance ' (she is the sister or daughter, I for- get which, of Lord Blantyre), ' very gentle and unassum- ing. Lord John Manners Drought in his hand a brace of grouse for papa, which was a well-timed present : a day or two befo»e papa had been wishing for some.' To these extracts I must add one other from a letter re- ferring to this time. It is addressed to Miss Wooler, the kind friend of both her girlhood and womanhood, who had invited her to spend a fortnight with her at her cottage lodgings. ' Hawortii : September 27, 1850. ' When I tell yon that I have already been to the Lakes this season, and that it is scarcely more than a month since I returned, yon will understand that it is no longer within my option to accept your kind invitation. I wish I could have gone to you. I have already had my excursion, and there is an end to it. Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth is resid- ing near Windermere, at a house called the " Briery," and it was there I was staying for a little time this August. He very kindly showed me the neighbourhood, as it can be seen from a carriage, and I discerned that the Lake country is a glorious region, of which I had only seen the similitude in dreams, waking or sleeping. Decidedly I find it does not agree with me to prosecute the search of the picturesque in a carriage. A wagon, a spring-cart, even a post-chaise might do ; but the carriage upsets everything. I longed to slip ont unseen, and to run away by myself in amongst the hills and dales. Erratic and vagrant instincts tormented me, and these I was obliged to control, or rather suppress, for fear of growing in any degree enthusiastic, and thus draw- ing attention to the "lioness" — the authoress. ' You say that you suspect I have formed a large circle of acquaintances by this time. No : I cannot say that I have. I doubt whether I possess either the wish or the power to do so. A few friends I should like to have, and those few I should like to know well ; if such knowledge 1850 HER FIRST LETTER TO THE AUTHOR 485 brought proportionate regard, I could not help concentrat- ing my feelings ; dissipation, I think, appears synonymous with dilution. However I have, as yet, scarcely been tried. During the month I spent in London in the spring I kept very quiet, having the fear of lionising before my eyes. I only went out once to dinner, and once was present at an evening party ; and the only visits I have paid have been to Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth's and my publisher's. Prom this system I should not like to depart ; as far as I can see, indiscriminate visiting tends only to a waste of time and a vulgarising of character. Besides, it would be wrong to leave papa often ; he is now in his seventy-fifth year ; the infirmities of age begin to creep upon him ; during the sum- mer he has been much harassed by chronic bronchitis, but I am thankful to say that he is now somewhat better. I think my own health has derived benefit from change to exercise. ' Somebody in Dewsbury professes to have authority for saying that "when Miss Bronte was in London she neg- lected to attend Divine service on the Sabbath, and in the week spent her time in going about to balls, theatres, and operas." On the other hand, the London quidnuncs make my seclusion a matter of wonder, and devise twenty ro- mantic fictions to account for it. Formerly I used to listen to report with interest, and a certain credulity, but I am now grown deaf and sceptical : experience has taught me how absolutely devoid of foundation her stories may be.' I must now quote from the first letter I had the privilege of receiving from Miss Bronte. It is dated August 27. ' Papa and I have just had tea ; he is sitting quietly in his room, and I in mine ; " storms of rain " are sweeping over the garden and churchyard : as to the moors, they are hidden in thick fog. Though alone I am not unhappy ; I have a thousand things to be thankful for, and, amongst the rest, that this morning I received a letter from you, and that this evening I have the privilege of answering it. 486 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' I do not know the " Life of Sydney Taylor ;" ' whenever I have the opportunity I will get it. The little French book you mention shall also take its place on the list of books to be procured as soon as possible. It treats a sub- ject interesting to all women — perhaps more especially to single women, though, indeed, mothers, like you, study it for the sake of their daughters. The "Westminster Re- view" is not a periodical I see regularly, but some time since I got hold of a number — for last January, I think — in which there was an article entitled "Woman's Mission" (the phrase is hackneyed), containing a great deal that seemed to me just and sensible. Men begin to regard the position of woman in another light than they used to do ; and a few men, whose sympathies are fine and whose sense of justice is strong, think and speak of it with a candour that commands my admiration. They say, however — and, to an extent, truly — that the amelioration of our condition depends on ourselves. Certainly there are evils which our own efforts will best reach ; but as certainly there are other evils — deep-rooted in the foundations of the social system — which no efforts of ours can touch ; of which we can- not complain ; of which it is advisable not too often to think. 'I have read Tennyson's " In Memoriam," 2 or rather part of it ; I closed the book when I had got about halfway. It is beautiful ; it is mournful ; it is monotonous. Many of the feelings expressed bear, in their utterance, the stamp of truth ; yet, if Arthur Hallam had been somewhat nearer Alfred Tennyson — his brother instead of his friend — I should have distrusted this rhymed, and measured, and printed monument of grief. What change the lapse of years may work I do not know ; but it seems to me that bitter sorrow, while recent, does not flow out in verse. 1 Selections from the Writings of J. Sydney Taylor, with a Brief Sketch of his Life. London, 1843. John Sydney Taylor (1795-1841) was a London journalist of Irish origin. 2 Tennyson's In Memoriam was published in 1850. 1850 A LETTER TO A LITERARY FRIEND 487 'I promised to send you Wordsworth's "Prelude," 1 and, accordingly, despatch it by this post ; the other little vol- ume shall follow in a day or two. I shall be glad to hear from you whenever yon have time to write to, me, but you are never on any account to do this except when inclination prompts and leisure permits. I should never thank you for a letter which you had felt it a task to write.' A short time after we had met at the Briery she sent me the volume of Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell's poems, and thus alludes to them in the note that accompanied the parcel : — ' The little book of rhymes was sent by way of fulfilling a rashly made promise ; and the promise was made to prevent you from throwing away four shillings in an injudicious pur- chase. I do not like my own share of the work, nor care that it should be read : Ellis Bell's I think good and vigor- ous, and Acton's have the merit of truth and simplicity. Mine are chiefly juvenile productions, the restless efferves- cence of a mind, that would not be still. In those days the sea too often " wrought and was tempestuous," and weed, sand, shingle — all turned up in the tumult. This image is much too magniloquent for the subject, but you will par- don it.' Another letter of some interest was addressed, about this time, to a literary friend," on September 5. 'The reappearance of the "Athenaeum" is very accept- able, not merely for its own sake — though I esteem the op- portunity of its perusal a privilege — but because, as a week- ly token of the remembrance of friends, it cheers and gives 1 The Prelude ; or, Growth of a Poet's Mind : an Autobiographical Poem, by William Wordsworth, was published, after his death in 1850, by Edward Moxon, Dover Street, London. 8 Mr. James Taylor. 488 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE pleasure. I only fear that its regular transmission may be- come a task to you ; in this case, discontinue it at once. 'I did indeed enjoy my trip to Scotland, and yet I saw little of the face of the country ; nothing of its grander or finer scenic features ; but Edinburgh, Melrose, Abbotsford — these three in themselves sufficed to stir feelings of such deep in- terest and admiration that neither at the time did I regret, nor have I since regretted, the want of wider space over which to diffuse the sense of enjoyment. There was room and variety enough to be very happy, and "enough," the proverb says, " is as good as a feast." The Queen, indeed, was right to climb Arthur's Seat with her husband and children. I shall not soon forget how I felt when, having reached its summit, we all sat down and looked over the city, towards the sea and Leith, and the Pentland Hills. No doubt you are proud of being a native of Scotland — proud of your country, her capital, her children, and her literature. You cannot be blamed. ' The article in the " Palladium " ' is one of those notices over which an author rejoices trembling. He rejoices to find his work finely, fully, fervently appreciated, and trem- bles under the responsibility such appreciation seems to devolve upon him. I am counselled to wait and watch — D.V. I will do so; yet it is harder to wait with the hands bound, and the observant and reflective faculties at their silent and unseen work, than to labour mechanically. 1 This article was by Sydney Thompson Dobell (1824-1874), poet and critic, whose review of Currer Bell was afterwards republished in his Life and Letters, vol. i. pp. 163-86 (1878). The article contains a brilliant appreciation of Wutliering Heights. In a letter to Dr. Samuel Brown, Sydney Dobell writes, ' Of larger calibre and metal more " tried in the fire " is Currer Bell. You would have been charmed with a let- ter of hers which her friend Miss Martineau sent me the other day. A noble letter, simple and strong ; but tender all over with amenities that showed like ripples on a wave. I was amused with her playful suspicion that "if Mr. Dobell could see her, sometimes darning a stock- ing, or making a pie in the kitchen of an old parsonage in the ob- scurest of Yorkshire villages, he might recall his sentence." — A fig for Mr. D.'s discernment, if he did not confirm it — with costs.' 1850 CRITICAL NOTICES 489 ' I need not say how I felt the remarks on " Wuthering Heights ;" they woke the saddest yet most grateful feel- ings ; they are true, they are discriminating, they are full of late justice, but it is very late — alas ! in one sense, too late. Of this, however, and of the pang of regret for a light prematurely extinguished, it is not wise to speak much. Whoever the author of this article may be, I remain his debtor. ' Yet you see, even here, " Shirley " is disparaged in comparison with " JaneEvre ;" and yet I took great pains with "Shirley." Ptfifl"iioti hurry ; I tried to do my best, and my own impression was that it was not inferior to the former work ; indeed, I had bestowed on it more time, thought, and anxiety : but great part of it was written under the shadow of impending calamity ; and the last volume, I cannot deny, was composed in the eager, rest- less endeavour to combat mental sufferings which were scarcely tolerable. ' You sent the tragedy of " Galileo Galilei," by Samuel Brown, 1 in one of the Cornhill parcels ; it contained, I re- member, passages of very great beauty. Whenever you send any more books (but that must not be till I return what I now have) I should be glad if you would include amongst them the "Life of Dr. Arnold." Do you know also the "Life of Sydney Taylor"? I am not familiar even with the name, but it has been recommended to me as a work meriting perusal. Of course, when I name any book, it is always understood that it should be quite con- venient to send it." 1 Samuel Brown (1817-1856) was a cousin of Dr. John Brown, author of Bab and his Friends. He was a chemist and wrote Lectures on the Atomic Theory and Essays Scientific and Literary. His tragedy Galileo Galilei was published in 1850. ' Miss Bronte wrote to Mr. George Smith on September 18, 1850— 'Feeling sure that any application of mine to Mr. Newby would merely result in some evasive reply, I have adopted your second sug- gestion and written the statement enclosed. I felt more than reluctant 490 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE to give you any trouble about the matter, but your note presents the case in a manner which seems to do away with much of its intricacy and difficulty ; in your hands, therefore, I leave it. ' If you should extract any money from Mr. Newby (of which I am not sanguine), I shall regard it in the light of a providential windfall and dispose of part of it — at least — accordingly ; one half of what- ever you may realise must be retained in your possession to add to any sum you may decide on giving Miss Kavanagh for her next work. This, however, is a presumptuous enumeration of chickens ere the eggs are hatched. ' Mr. Thackeray did very right to bring his Christmas book to you ; I hope it will be a good one, better (that is, juster and more amiable) than Rebecca and Rowena ; if otherwise I can only wish that whenever he goes to the Elysian Fields (long may it be ere then !) he may be immediately caught by his own Eowena (not Sir Walter Scott's) and compelled by her into a conjugal union. That would be "poetical justice," I think. ' Mr. Ruskin's fairy tale* will no doubt offer a delicate contrast to the Christmas book — something like a flower and a branch of oak. Mrs. Gaskell, it seems, has likewise written a Christmas book. I won- der by whom it is to be published ; I half expected from some things that were said when I saw her that you would have had the first offer of her next work. 'You should be very thankful that books cannot "talk to each other as well as to their reader." Conceive the state of your ware- house if such were the case. The confusion of tongues at Babel, or a congregation of Irvingites in full exercise of their miraculous gift, would offer but a feeble type of it. Terrible, too, would be the quar- relling. Yourself and Mr. Taylor and Mr. Williams would all have to go in several times in the day to part or silence the disputants. Br. Knox alone, with his Race : a Fragment (a book which I read with combined interest, amusement, and edification), would deliver the voice of a Stentor if any other book ventured to call in question his favourite dogmas. ' Still I like the notion of a mystic whispering amongst the lettered leaves, and perhaps at night, when London is asleep and Cornhill desert, when all your clerks and men are away, and the warehouse is shut up, such a whispering may be heard — by those who have ears to hear. ' I find, on referring again to Mr. Newby's letter to my sister, he * The King of the Golden River. By John Ruskin. Smith, Elder, &Co., 1851. 1850 LITERARY JUDGMENTS 491 says that the sale of 250 copies of Wuthering Heights would " leave a surplus of 1002. to be divided." ' And a little later she wrote — ' Wufliering Heights and Agnes Grey were published by Mr. Newby on the condition that my sister should share the risk. Accordingly they advanced 501., Mr. Newby engaging to repay it as soon as the work should have sold a sufficient number of copies-lo defray expen- ses ; and Mr. Newby mentions in his letter to my sister on the sub- ject that " the sale of 250 copies would leave a surplus of 1002. to be divided." No portion of the sum advanced has yet been returned, and, as it appears that the work is now entirely out of print, I should feel greatly obliged if you would call upon Mr. Newby and enquire whether it be convenient to him to refund the amount received. 'For The Tenant of Wildfell Hall my sister Anne was to receive 251. on the day of publication, a second 252. on the sale reaching 250 copies, 502. more on its extending to 400 copies, and another 502. on 500 being sold. 'Two instalments of 252. each were paid to my sister. I should be glad if you could learn how many copies of the work have been sold on the whole, and whether any further sum is now due.' CHAPTER XXII It was thought desirable about this time to republish ' Wuthering Heights ' and ' Agnes Grey,' the works of the two sisters, and Charlotte undertook the task of editing them. She wrote to Mr. "Williams, September 29, 1850, ' It is my intention to write a few lines of remark on " Wuther- ing Heights," which, however, I propose to place apart as a brief preface before the tale. I am likewise compelling myself to read it over, for the first time of opening the book since my sister's death. Its power fills me with re- newed admiration ; but yet I am oppressed : the reader is scarcely ever permitted a taste of unalloyed pleasure; every beam of sunshine is poured down through black bars of threatening cloud ; every page is surcharged with a sort of moral electricity ; and the writer was unconscious of all this — nothing could make her conscious of it. ' And this makes me reflect ; perhaps I am too incapable of perceiving the faults and peculiarities of my own style. ' I should wish to revise the proofs, if it be not too great an inconvenience to send them. It seems to me advisable to modify the orthography of the old servant Joseph's speeches ; for though as it stands it exactly renders the Yorkshire dialect to a Yorkshire ear, yet I am sure South- erns must find it unintelligible ; and thus one of the most graphic characters in the book is lost on them. ' I grieve to say that I possess no portrait of either of my sisters.' To her own dear friend, 1 as to one who had known and 1 To Ellen Kussey. The letter is dated October 3, 1850. 1850 A DEPRESSION OP SPIRITS 493 loved her sisters, she writes still more fully respecting the painfulness of her task. ' There is nothing wrong, and I am writing you aline as you desire, merely to say that I am busy just now. Mr. Smith wishes to reprint some of Emily's and Anne's works, with a few little additions from the papers they have left ; and I have been closely engaged in revising, transcribing, preparing a preface, notice, &c. As the time for doing this is limited, I am obliged to be industrious. I found the task at first exquisitely painful and depressing ; but regarding it in the light of a sacred duty, I went on, and now can bear it bet- ter. It is work, however, that I cannot do in the evening, for if I did I should have no sleep at night. Papa, I am thankful to say, is in improved health, and so, I think, am I ; I trust you are the same. 'I have just received a kind letter from Miss Martineau. She has got back to Ambleside, and had heard of my visit to the Lakes. She expressed her regret, &c, at not being at home. ' I am both angry and surprised at myself for not being in better spirits ; for not growing accustomed, or at least resigned, to the solitude and isolation of my lot. But my late occupation left a result for some days, and indeed still, very painful. The reading over of papers, the re- newal of remembrances, brought back the pang of bereave- ment, and occasioned a depression of spirits wellnigh intolerable. For one or two nights I scarcely knew how to get on till morning ; and when morning came I was still haunted with a sense of sickening distress. I tell you these things because it is absolutely necessary to me to have some relief. You will forgive me, and not trouble yourself, or imagine that I am one whit worse than I say. It is quite a mental ailment, and I believe my hope is bet- ter now. I think so, because I can speak about it, which I never can when grief is at its worst. 'I thought to find occupation and interest in writing, 494 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE when alone at home, but hitherto my efforts have been yain ; the deficiency of every stimulus is so complete. You will recommend me, I dare say, to go from home ; but that does no good, even could I again leave papa with an easy mind (thank God ! he is better). I cannot describe what a time of it I had after my return from. London, Scotland, &c. There was a reaction that sank me to the earth ; the deadly silence, solitude, desolation, were awful ; the craving for companionship, the hopelessness of relief, were what I should dread to feel again. 'Dear Nell, when I think of you it is with a compassion and tenderness that scarcely cheer me. Mentally, I fear, you also are too lonely and too little occupied. It seems our doom, for the present at least. May God in His mercy help us to bear it !' During her last visit to London, as mentioned in one of her letters, she had made the acquaintance of her corre- spondent Mr. Lewes. That gentleman says — 'Some months after' (the appearance of the review of 'Shirley' in the 'Edinburgh') 'Currer Bell came to Lon- don, and I was invited to meet her at your house. You may remember she asked you not to point me out to her, but allow her to discover me if she could. She did rec- ognise me almost as soon as I came into the room. You tried me in the same way ; I was less sagacious. However I sat by her side a great part of the evening, and was greatly interested by her conversation. On parting we shook hands, and she said, " We are friends now, are we not?" "Were we not 'always, then?" I asked. "No! not always," she said, significantly ; and that was the only allusion she made to the offending article. I lent her some of Balzac's and George Sand's novels to take with her into the country ; and the following letter was written when they were returned : — ' " I am sure you will have thought me very dilatory in returning the books you so kindly lent me ; the fact is, hav- 1850 HER INTERVIEW WITH MR. LEWES 495 ing some other books to send, I retained yours to enclose them in the same parcel. ' " Accept my thanks for some hours of pleasant reading. Balzac was for me quite a new author ; and in making his acquaintance, through the medium of 'Modeste Mignon' and ' Illusions Perdues,' you cannot doubt I have felt some interest. At first I thought he was going to be painfully minute, and fearfully tedious ; one grew impatient of his long parade of detail, his slow revelation of unimportant circumstances, as he assembled his personages on the stage ; but by-and-by I seemed to enter into the mystery of his craft, and to discover, with delight, where his force lay : is it not in the analysis of motive, and in a subtle perception of the most obscure and secret workings of the mind ? Still, admire Balzac as we may, I think we do not like him ; we rather feel towards him as towards an ungenial acquaint- ance who is for ever holding up in strong light our defects, and who rarely draws forth our better qualities. ' "Truly I like George Sand better. ' "Fantastic, fanatical, unpractical enthusiast as she of- ten is — far from truthful as are many of her views of life — misled, as she is apt to be, by her feelings, George Sand has a better nature than M. de Balzac ; her brain is larger, her heart warmer than his. The ' Lettres d'un Voyageur ' are full of the writer's self ; and I never felt so strongly, as in the perusal of this work, that most of her very faults spring from the excess of her good qualities : it is this ex- cess which has often hurried her into difficulty, which has prepared for her enduring regret. ' " But I believe her mind is of that order which disas- trous experience teaches, without weakening, or too much disheartening, and, in that case, the longer she lives the better she will grow. A hopeful point in all her writings is the scareity of false French sentiment; I wish I could say its absence ; but the weed flourishes here and there even in the 'Lettres.'"' I remember the good expression of disgust which Miss 496 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Bronte made use of in speaking to me of some of Balzac's novels : ' They leave such a bad taste in my month/ The reader will notice that most _ of the letters from which I now quote are devoted to critical and literary subjects. These were, indeed, her principal interests at this time ; the revision of her sisters' works, and writing a short memoir of them, was the painful employment of every day during the dreary autumn of 1850. Wearied out by the vividness of her sorrowful recollections, she sought relief in long walks on the moors. A friend of hers, who wrote to me on the appearance of the eloquent article in the 'Daily News' upon the 'Death of Currer Bell,' gives an anecdote which may well come in here. ' They are mistaken in saying she was too weak to roam the hills for the benefit of the air. I do not think any one, certainly not any woman, in this locality, went so much on the moors as she did, when the weather permitted. In- deed, she was so much in the habit of doing so that peo- ple, who live quite away on the edge of the common, knew her perfectly well. I remember on one occasion an old woman saw her at a little distance, and she called out, " How ! Miss Bronte ! Hey yah (have you) seen ought o' my cofe (calf) ?" Miss Bronte told her she could not say, for she did not know it. " Well!" she said, "yah know, it's getting up like nah (now) , between a cah (cow) and a cofe — what we call a stirk, yah know, Miss Bronte ; will yah turn it this way if yah happen to see't as yah're going back, Miss Bronte ? Nah do, Miss Bronte." ' It must have been about this time that a visit was paid to her by some neighbours, who were introduced to her by a mutual friend. This visit has been described in a letter from which I am permitted to give extracts, which will show the impression made upon strangers by the character of the country round her home, and other circumstances. ' Though the weather was drizzly we resolved to make our REV. PATRICK BRONTE. From u, Photograph. 1850 A VISIT TO HAWORTH PARSONAGE 497 long-planned excursion to Haworth ; so packed ourselves into the buffalo skin, and that into the gig, and set off about eleven. The rain ceased, and the day was just suited to the scenery — wild and chill — with great masses of cloud glooming over the moors, and here and there a ray of sunshine covertly stealing through, and resting with a dim magical light upon some high bleak village ; or darting down into some deep glen, lighting up the tall chimney, or glistening on the windows and wet roof of the mill which lies couching in the bottom. The country got wilder and wilder as we approached Haworth ; for the last four miles we were ascending a huge moor, at the very top of which lies the dreary, black-looking village of Ha- worth. The village street itself is one of the steepest hills I have ever seen, and the stones are so horribly jolting that I should have got out and walked with W , if pos- sible,but, having once begun the ascent, to stop was out of the question. At the top was the inn where we put up, close by the church ; and the clergyman's house, we were told, was at the top of the churchyard. So through that we went — a dreary, dreary place, literally paved with rain- blackened tombstones, and all on the slope ; for at Ha- worth there is on the highest height a higher still, and Mr. Bronte's house stands considerably above the church. There was the house before us, a small oblong stone house, with not a tree to screen it from the cutting wind ; but how we were to get at it from the churchyard we could not see ! There was an old man in the church- yard, brooding like a ghoul over the graves, with a sort of grim hilarity on his face. I thought he looked hardly human ; however he was human enough to tell us the way, and presently we found ourselves in the little bare parlour. Presently the door opened, and in came a su- perannuated mastiff, followed by an old gentleman very like Miss Bronte, who shook hands with us, and then went to call his daughter. A long interval, during which we coaxed the old dog, and looked at a picture of Miss 498 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Bronte, by Richmond, the solitary ornament of the room, looking strangely out of place on the bare walls, and at the books on the little shelves, most of them evidently the gift of the authors since Miss Bronte's celebrity. Pres- ently she came in, and welcomed us very kindly, and took me upstairs to take off my bonnet, and herself brought me water and towels. The uncarpeted stone stairs and floors, the old drawers propped on wood, were all scrupulously clean and neat. When we went into the parlour again we began talking very comfortably, when the door opened and Mr. Bronte looked in ; seeing his daughter there, I suppose he thought it was all right, and he retreated to his study on the opposite side of the passage, presently emerging again to bring W a country newspaper. This was his last appearance till we went. Miss Bronte spoke with the greatest warmth of Miss Martineau, and of the good she had gained from her. Well ! we talked about various things — the character of the people, about her solitude, &c. — till she left the room to help about dinner, I suppose, for she did not return for an age. The old dog had van- ished ; a fat curly-haired dog honoured us with his com- pany for some time, but finally manifested a wish to get out, so we were left alone. At last she returned, followed by the maid and dinner, which made us all more comfort- able ; and we had some very pleasant conversation, in the midst of which time passed quicker than we supposed, for at last W found that it was half-past three, and we had fourteen or fifteen miles before us. So we hurried off, having obtained from her a promise to pay us a visit in the spring ; and the old gentleman having issued once more from his study to say good-bye, we returned to the inn, and made the best of our way homewards. ' Miss Bronte put me so in mind of her own "Jane Eyre." She looked smaller than ever, and moved about so quietly, and noiselessly, just like a little bird, as Rochester called her, barring that all birds are joyous, and that joy can never have entered that house since it was first built ; 1850 JUSTICE TO THE DEAD 499 and yet, perhaps, when that old man married, and took home his bride, and children's voices and feet were heard about the house, even that desolate crowded graveyard and biting blast could not quench cheerfulness and hope. Now there is something touching in the sight of that little creat- ure entombed in such a place, and moving about herself like a spirit, especially when you think that the slight still frame encloses a force of strong fiery life, which nothing has been able to freeze or extinguish.' In one of the preceding letters Miss Bronte referred to an article in the ' Palladium ' which had rendered what she considered the due meed of merit to ' Wuthering Heights,' her sister Emily's tale. Her own works were praised, and praised with discrimination, and she was grateful for this. But her warm heart was filled to. the brim with kindly feel- ings towards him who had done justice to the dead. She anxiously sought out the name of the writer ; and having discovered that it was Mr. Sydney Dobell, he immediately became one of her Peculiar people whom Death had made dear. i She looked with interest upon everything he wrote ; and before long we shall find that they corresponded. TO W. S. WILLIAMS, ESQ. ' October 25. ' The box of books came last night, and, as usual, I have only gratefully to admire the selection made : Jeffrey's "Essays," "Dr. Arnold's Life," "The Eoman," "Alton Locke," » these were all wished for and welcome. ' You say I keep no books ; pardon me — I am ashamed of my own rapaciousuess : I have kept Macaulay's "History," and Wordsworth's "Prelude," and Taylor's "Philip Van 1 Jeffrey's Ussays appeared in one volume in 1844 ; Dr. Arnold's Life, by Dean Stanley, in 1845 ; The Roman, by Sidney Dobell, in 1850 ; and Alton Locke, by Charles Kingsley, in 1850. 500 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Artevelde." I soothe my conscience by saying that the two last — being poetry — do not connt. This is a convenient doctrine for me: I meditate acting upon it with reference to " The Roman," so I trust nobody in Cornhill will dispute its validity or affirm that " poetry " has a value, except for trunk-makers. ' I have already had Macaulay's " Essays," Sidney Smith's "Lectures on Moral Philosophy," and Knox on "Race." Pickering's work on the same subject I have not seen ; nor all the volumes of Leigh Hunt's "Autobiography." How- ever I am now abundantly supplied for a long time to come. I liked Hazlitt's "Essays" much. 1 ' The autumn, as you say, has been very fine. I and sol- ■ itude and memory have often profited by its sunshine on the moors. * I had felt some disappointment at the non-arrival of the proof sheets of " Wuthering Heights;" a feverish im- patience to complete the revision is apt to beset me. The work of looking over papers, &c, could not be gone through with impunity and with unaltered spirits ; associations too tender, regrets too bitter, sprang out of it. Meantime the Cornhill books now, as heretofore, are my best medicine, affording a solace which could not be yielded by the very same books procured from a common library. ' Already I have read the greatest part of " The Ro- man;" passages in it possess a kindling virtue such as true poetry alone can boast ; there are images of genuine gran- deur ; there are lines that at once stamp themselves on the memory. Can it be true that a new planet has risen on the 1 Macaulay's Essays first appeared in 1843 ; Sydney Smith's Lectures delivered in 1804-6 were published in 1850 under the title of Elemen- tary Sketches of Moral Philosophy. The Races of Men : a Fragment, by Dr. Robert Knox (1791-1862), entomologist and anatomist, first ap- peared in 1850. The Maces of Man, by C. Pickering, was published in 1850, as was also the first edition of Leigh Hunt's Autobiography. The edition of Hazlitt would be the reprint in 1845-6 of Table Talk, or Original Essays on Men and Manners, which first appeared in 1821-2. 1850 SYDNEY DOBELL'S 'ROMAN' 501 heaven, whence all stars seemed fast fading ? I believe it is ; for this Sydney or Dobell speaks with a voice of his own, unborrowed, unmimicked. You hear Tennyson, in- deed, sometimes, and Byron sometimes, in some passages of " The Eoman ;" but then again you have a new note, nowhere clearer than in a certain brief lyric, sung in a meeting of minstrels, a sort of dirge over a dead brother; that not only charmed the ear and brain, it soothed the heart/ 1 1 She wrote the following letter to Mr. George Smith on October 31, 1850:— ' My dear Sir, — It is pleasing to find that already a species of prep- aration is commencing in your mind, and, I doubt not, in the minds of others in Cornhill, &c, towards a due reception of that " Coming Man" the great Cardinal Archbishop Wiseman. After his arrival London will not be what it was, nor will this day and generation be either what or where they were. A new Joshua — a greater even than Joshua — will command the sun — not merely to stand still, but to go back six centuries. ' I could have fancied something — if not in your letter yet in the clever scribe it enclosed — savouring of the Middle Ages, Yielding to the impulse of fancy, I cannot help anticipating the time when 65 Cornhill shall be honoured by the daily domiciliary visit of a " friar of orders grey," and when that small back room (I do not know what its present mundane use and denomination may be), lit by a skylight, shall be fitted up as an oratory, with a saint in a niche, two candles always burning, a prie-dieu, and a handsomely bound Missal ; also a confessional chair — very comfortable — for the priest, and a square of carpet, or better the bare boards, for the penitent. ' Here, every morning, when you, Mr. Taylor, and Mr. Williams come in to business, you will, instead of at once repairing to your desks in heathenish sort, enter, tell your beads (each of you will wear a goodly rosary and crucifix), sign yourselves with holy water (of which there will always be a small vase properly replenished), and— once a month at least — you will duly make confession and receive absolution. The ease this will give to your now never-disburthened heretic con- sciences words can but feebly express. ' So gratifying is this picture that I feel reluctant to look on any other ; Imagination, however, obstinately persists in showing the re- verse. What if your organ of Firmness should withstand " Holy Obedience"? What if your causative and investigatory faculties 502 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE The following extract will be read with interest as con- veying her thoughts after the perusal of Dr. Arnold's 'Life:'— ' November 6. ' I have'jnst finished reading the " Life of Dr. Arnold ;" but now, when I wish, according to your request, to ex- should question the infallibilty of Rome ? "What if that presumptu- ous self-reliance, that audacious championship of Reason and Common Sense which ought to have been crushed out of you all in your cra- dles, or at least during your school days, aud which, perhaps, on the contrary, were encouraged and developed, what if these things should induce you madly to oppose the returning supremacy and advancing victory of the Holy Catholic Church 1 ' The answer is afflicting, but must be given ; indeed, you give it yourself when you allude to " the preparations in Smithfield." The chances are that some First Sunday in Advent (1880) you find your- selves duly robed in the yellow "San Benito," walking in the proces- sion of as fine an " auto da fe" as ever made Christendom exult. ' The two post-office orders came safely. I showed papa the Paper Lantern ;* he was greatly amused with it, and would like to see the whole when it is completed to show the curates, whose case it will fit with much nicety. ' What you say about the present dulness and dreariness of London, and the sort of longing for fresh air and freedom your words rather imply than express, contain for me the germs of a wholesome sermon — a sermon which I shall often preach to myself on these long autumn evenings and longer winter evenings that approach. To quote an old Puritan tract, " there is a crook in every lot." ' Be sure not to give yourself much trouble about Mr. Newby ; I have not the least expectation that you will be able to get anything from him ; he has an evasive, shuffling plan of meeting, or rather eluding, such demands, against which it is fatiguing to contend. If you think payment would be really inconvenient, do not urge it. I must now, however, dissuade you from calling on him. As to that information which is to earn "a statue in Paternoster Row," I hope Mr. Wyatt will have nothing to do with the said statue, and also that it will not be equestrian. As to the costume, doubtless felicitous * A Paper Lantern for Puaeyites, by ' Will o' the Wisp,' a satire in verse, was first published by Smith, Elder & Co. in 1843 ; a new and revised edition of the pamphlet being issued by the same firm in 1850. 1850 HER CHARACTER OF DR. ARNOLD 503 press what I think of it, I do not find the task very easy ; proper terms seem wanting. This is not a character to be dismissed with a few laudatory words ; it is not a one-sided character ; pure panegyric would be inappropriate. Dr. Arnold (it seems to me) was not quite saintly ; his great- ness was cast in a mortal mould ; he was a little severe, almost a little hard ; he was vehement and somewhat op- pugnant. Himself the most indefatigable of workers, I know not whether he could have understood, or made al- lowance for, a temperament that required more rest ; yet not to one man in twenty thousand is given his giant faculty of labour ; by virtue of it he seems to me the greatest of working men. Exacting he might have been, then, on this point ; and granting that he were so, and a little hasty, stern, and positive, those were his sole faults (if, indeed, that can be called a fault which in no shape degrades the individual's own character, but is only apt to oppress and overstrain the weaker nature of his neighbours). After- wards come his good qualities. About these there is noth- ing dubious. Where can we find justice, firmness, indepen- dence, earnestness, sincerity, fuller and purer than in him ? 'But this is not all, and I am glad of it. Besides high intellect and stainless rectitude his letters and his life attest his possession of the most true-hearted affection. Without this, however one might admire, one could not love him ; but with it I think we love him much. A hundred such men — fifty — nay, ten, or five, such righteous men might save any country ; might victoriously champion any cause. ideas will be suggested on that head by the novelties which, report says, are likely to be introduced at the Great Exhibition. ' Forgive all the nonsense of this letter, there is such a pleasure and relief either in writing or talking a little nonsense sometimes to any- body who is sensible enough to understand and good-natured enough to pardon it. ' Believe me ' Yours sincerely, ' C. BrontE. ' George Smith, Esq.' 504 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' I was struck, too, by the almost unbroken happiness of his life ; a happiness resulting chiefly, no doubt, from the right use to which he put that health and strength which G-od had given him, but also owing partly to a singular exemption from those deep and bitter griefs which most human beings are called on to endure. His wife was what he wished ; his children were healthy and promising ; his own health was excellent ; his undertakings were crowned with success ; even death was kind, for however sharp the pains of his last hour they were but brief. God's blessing seems to have accompanied him from the cradle to the grave. One feels thankful to know that it has been per- mitted to any man to live such a life. ' When I was in Westmoreland last August I spent an evening at Fox How, where Mrs. Arnold and her daugh- ters still reside. It was twilight as I drove to the place, and almost dark ere I reached it ; still I could perceive that the situation was lovely. The house looked like a nest half buried in flowers and creepers ; and, dusk as it was, I could feel that the valley and the hills round were beauti- ful as imagination could dream." If I say again what I have said already before, it is only 1 A letter to Mr. George Smith is dated December 3, 1850 :— ' Your Will o' the Wisp is a very pleasant and witty sprite, and though not venomous his pungency may be none the less effective on that account. Indeed, I believe a good-natured kind of ridicule is a weapon more appropriate to the present crisis than bitter satire or serious indignation. We are in no danger. Why should we be angry? I only wish the author had rectified some of her rhymes (such as se- dilia and familiar, tiara and bearer), but critics will surely not be se- vere with the little book. ' Mr. M. A. Titmarsh holds out an alluring invitation to the Rhine. I hope thousands will take advantage of the facilities he offers to make the excursion in the "polite society" of the Kickleburys. ' As to Mr. Newby, he charms me. First there is the fascinating coyness with which he shuns your pursuit. For a month, or nearly two months, have you been fondly hoping to win from him an inter- view, while he has been making himself scarce as violets at Christ- mas, aristocratically absenting himself from town, evading your grasp 1850 DREARY MONOTONY OF LIFE 505 to impress and re-impress upon my readers the dreary monotony of her life at this time. The dark, bleat season of the year brought back the long evenings, which tried her severely, all the more so because her weak eyesight rendered her incapable of following any occupation but knitting by candle-light. For her father's sake, as well as for her own, she found it necessary to make some exertion to ward off settled depression of spirits. She accordingly accepted an invitation to spend a week or ten days with Miss Martineau at Ambleside. She also proposed to come like a publisher metamorphosed into a rainbow. Then, when you come upon him in that fatal way in Regent Street, pin him down, and hunt him home with more promptitude than politeness, and with a want of delicate consideration for your victim's fine feelings calcu- lated to awaken emotions of regret, that victim is still ready for the emergency. Scorning to stand on the defensive, he at once assumes the offensive. Not only has he realised no profit, he has sustained actual loss ; and, to account for this, adds, with a sublime boldness of invention, that the author " wished him to spend all possible profits in advertisements." ' Equally well acted too is the artless simplicity of his surprise at the news you communicate ; and his pretty little menace of a "Chan- cery injunction " consummates the picture and makes it perfect. 'Any statement of accounts he may send I shall at once trans- mit to you. In your hands I leave him ; deal with him as you list, but I heartily wish you well rid of the business. ' On referring to Mr. Newby's letters I find in one of them a boast that he is "advertising vigorously." I remember that this flourish caused us to look out carefully for the results of his vast exertions ; but though we everywhere encountered Jane Eyre it was as rare a thing to find an advertisement of Wuthering Heights as it appears to be to meet with Mr. Newby in town at an unfashionable season of the year. The fact is he advertised the book very scantily and for a very short time. Of course we never expressed a wish or ut- tered an injunction on the subject ; nor was it likely we should, as it was rather important to us to recover the 501. we had advanced ; more we did not ask. ' I would say something about regret for the trouble you have had in your chase of this ethereal and evanescent ornament of " the Trade," but I fear apologies would be even worse than thanks. Both these shall be left out.' 506 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE to Manchester and see me, on her way to Westmoreland. But, unfortunately, I was from home, and not able there- fore to receive her. The friends with whom I was staying in the South of England (hearing me express my regret that I could not accept her friendly proposal, and aware of the sad state of health and spirits which made some change necessary for her) wrote to desire that she would come and spend a week or two with me at their house. She ac- knowledged this invitation in a letter to me, dated ' December 13, 1850. ' My dear Mrs. Gaskell, — Miss 's kindness and yours is such that I am placed in the dilemma of not knowing how adequately to express my sense of it. This I know, however, very well — that if I could go and be with you for a week or two in such a quiet south-country house, and with such kind people as you describe, I should like it much. I find the proposal marvellously to my taste ; it is the pleasantest, gentlest, sweetest temptation possible ; but, delectable as it is, its solicitations are by no means to be yielded to without the sanction of reason, and therefore I desire for the present to be silent, and to stand back till I have been to Miss Martineau's, and returned home, and considered well whether it is a scheme as right as agree- able. ' Meantime the mere thought does me good.' On December 10 the second edition of ' Wuthering Heights' was published. She sent a copy of it to Mr. Dobell, with the following letter : — Hawortta, Keighley, near Yorkshire : ' December 8, 1850. 'I offer this little book to my critic in the "Palladium," and he must believe it accompanied by a tribute of tbe sin- cerest gratitude; not so much for anything he has said of myself as for the noble justice he has rendered to one dear to me as myself — perhaps dearer — and perhaps one kind word 1850 HER LETTER TO MR. DOBELL 507 spoken for her awakens a deeper, tenderer sentiment of thankfulness than eulogies heaped on my own head. As you will see when you have read the biographical notice, my sister cannot thank you herself; she is gone out of your sphere and mine, and human blame and praise are nothing to her now. But to me, for her sake, they are something still ; it revived me for many a day to find that, dead as she was, the work of her genius had at last met with worthy appreciation. ' Tell me, when you have read the introduction, whether any doubts still linger in your mind respecting the author- ship of " Wuthering Heights," " Wildfell Hall," &c. Your mistrust did me some injustice ; it proved a general con- ception of character such as I should be sorry to call mine; but these false ideas will naturally arise when we only judge an author from his works. In fairness I must also disclaim the flattering side of the portrait. I am no "young Penthe- silea mediis in millibus," but a plain country parson's daughter. ' Once more I thank you, and that with a full heart. ' C. Bbonte.' CHAPTEE XXIII Immediately after the republication of her sister's book she went to Miss Martineau's. ' I can write to you now, dear Ellen, 1 for I am away from home, and relieved, temporarily at least, by change of air and scene, from the heavy burden of depression which, I confess, has for nearly three months been sinking me to the earth. I shall never forget last autumn. Some days and nights have been cruel ; but now, having once told you this, I need say no more on the subject. My loathing of solitude grew extreme, my recollection of my sisters into^rably poignant. I am better now. I am at Miss Martineau's for a week. Her house is very pleasant, both within and without ; arranged at all points with admirable neatness and comfort. Her visitors enjoy the most perfect liberty ; what she claims for herself she allows them. I rise at my own hour, breakfast alone (she is up at five, takes a cold bath, and a walk by starlight, and has finished breakfast and got to her work by seven o'clock). [I must insert a correction of this mistake as to Miss Martineau's hours, the fact being that Miss Martineau rose at six, and went to work at half-past eight, breakfasting separately from her visitor ; as she says in a letter with which she has favoured me, "it was my practice to come and speak to C. B. when she sat down to breakfast, and before I went to work."] I pass the morning in the drawing-room — she, in 1 This letter to Ellen Nussey is dated December 18, 1850, from The Knoll, Ambleside. 1850 IMPRESSIONS OF MISS MARTINEAU 509 her study. At two o'clock we meet — work, talk, and walk together till five, her dinner hour, spend the evening to- gether, when she converses fluently and abundantly, and with the most complete frankness. I go to my own room soon after ten ; she sits up writing letters till twelve. She appears exhaustless in strength and spirits, and indefati- gable in the faculty of labour. She is a great and good woman ; of course not without peculiarities, but I have seen none as yet that annoy me. She is both hard and warm hearted, abrupt and affectionate, liberal and despotic. I believe she is not at all conscious of her own absolutism. When I tell her of it she denies the charge warmly ; then I laugh at her. I believe she almost rules Ambleside. Some of the gentry dislike her, but the lower orders have a great regard for her. ... I thought I should like to spend two or three days with you before going home ; so, if it is not inconvenient to you, I will (D.V.) come on Monday and stay till Thursday. ... I have truly enjoyed my visit here. I have seen a good many people, and all have been so marvellously kind ; not the least so the family of Dr. Arnold. Miss Martineau I relish inexpressibly. 1 1 To her father she writes under date December 15, 1850 (the letter is wrongly dated in Charlotte Bronte and lier Circle): — ' Dear Papa, — I think I shall not come home till Thursday. If all be well I shall leave here on Monday and spend a day or two with Ellen Nussey. I have enjoyed my visit exceedingly. Sir J. K.- Shuttleworth has called several times and taken me out in his car- riage. He seems very truly friendly ; but, I am sorry to say, he looks pale and very much wasted. I greatly fear he will not live very long unless some change for the better soon takes place. Lady S. is ill too, and cannot go out. I have seen a good deal of Dr. Arnold's family, and like them much. As to Miss Martineau, I admire her and won- der at her more than I can say. Her powers of labour, of exercise, and social cheerfulness are beyond my comprehension. In spite of the unceasing activity of her colossal intellect she enjoys robust health. She is a taller, larger, and more strongly made woman than I had Imagined from that first interview with her. She is very kind to me, though she must think I am a very insignificant person compared to herself. She has just been into the room to show me a chapter of 510 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Miss Bronte paid the visit she here proposes to her friend, bat only remained two or three days. She then re- turned home, and immediately began to suffer from her old enemy, sickly and depressing headache. This was all the more trying to bear as she was obliged to take an active share in the household work, one servant being ill in bed, and the other, Tabby, aged upwards of eighty. This visit to Ambleside did Miss Bronte much good, and gave her a stock of pleasant recollections, and fresh inter- ests, to dwell upon in her solitary life. There are many references in her letters to Miss Martineau's character and kindness. ' She is certainly a woman of wonderful endowments, both intellectual and physical ; and though I share few of her opinions, and regard her as fallible on certain points of judgment, I must still award her my sincerest esteem. The manner in which she combines the highest mental cult- ure with the nicest discharge of feminine duties filled me with admiration, while her affectionate kindness earned my gratitude/ 'I think her good and noble qualities far out- weighed her defects. It is my habit to consider the indi- vidual apart from his (or her) reputation, practice indepen- dent of theory, natural disposition isolated from acquired opinions. Harriet Martineau's person, practice, and char- acter inspire me with the truest affection and respect/ ' You ask me whether Miss Martineau made me a convert to mesmerism. Scarcely ; yet I heard miracles of its effi- cacy, and could hardly discredit the whole of what was told her history which she is now writing, relating to the Duke of Wel- lington's character and his proceedings in the Peninsula. She wanted an opinion on it, and I was happy to be able to give a very approving one. She seems to understand and do him justice. ' You must not direct any more letters here, as they will not reach me after to-day. Hoping, dear papa, that you are well, and with kind regards to Tabby and Martha, I am your affectionate daughter, 'C. Bronte.' 1850 A CHARMING ENTHUSIASM 511 me. I even underwent a personal experiment ; and though the result was not absolutely clear it was inferred that in time I should prove an excellent subject. The question of mesmerism will be discussed with little reserve, I believe, in a forthcoming work of Miss Martineau's ; and I have some painful anticipations of the manner in which other subjects, offering less legitimate ground for speculation, will be handled.' Miss Martineau sends me the following account of the 'personal experiment' to which Miss Bronte refers : — 'By the way, for the mesmeric experiment on C. B. I was not responsible. She was strangely pertinacious about that, and I most reluctant to bring it before her at all, we being alone, and I having no confidence in her nerves. Day after day she urged me to mesmerise her. I always, and quite truly, pleaded that I was too tired for success, for we had no opportunity till the end of the day. At last, on Sunday evening, we returned from early tea somewhere ; I could not say I was tired, and she insisted. I stopped the mo- ment she called out that she was under the influence, and I would not resume it.' Miss Martineau has kindly permitted me to make use of one or two anecdotes which she remembers, and which re- fer to this period. ' One trait may interest you. Her admiration of Welling- ton brought it to my mind. One morning I brought her the first page of the chapter on the Peninsular War in my Introductory History, and said, "Tell me if this will do for a beginning," &c. I read the page or two to her, as we stood before the fire, and she looked up at me and stole her hand into mine, and to my amazement the tears were run- ning down her cheeks. She said, " Oh ! I do thank you ! Oh ! we are of one mind ! Oh ! I thank you for this justice to the man." I saw at once there was a touch of idolatry in the case, but it was a charming enthusiasm. ... As to the lecture about which you ask, C. B. sat sideways to me. 513 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE It was long, for I got interested and forgot the time. She kept her eyes on me the whole time, till her neck must have ached desperately. She stole up to the little platform on which I was standing, while the people dispersed, and as the light shone down into her eyes repeated (in my very voice) " Is my son dead ?" (Edward III.'s words at the wind- mill during the hattle of Crecy). We came home in silence (a very little way). In the drawing-room the first thing I did was to light the lamp, and the first flare showed C. B. with large eyes, staring at me, and repeatiug "Is my son dead ?" ' LETTER EEOM C. B. TO MISS W. 1 ' Your last letter evinced such a sincere and discriminating admiration for Dr. Arnold that perhaps you will not be wholly uninterested in hearing that, during my late visit to Miss Martineau, I saw much more of Fox How and its in- mates, and daily admired, in the widow and children 2 of 1 This letter was not addressed to Miss W(ooler), but to Mr. James Taylor. It is dated Jan. 15, 1851, and is contained in the packet of letters lent by Mr. Taylor to Mrs. Gaskell. It is now in the posses- sion of Mr. Taylor's executors. 2 Matthew Arnold, the most famous of the Arnold children, thus re- called one of these visits in his correspondence : ' I talked to Miss Bronte (past thirty and plain, with expressive grey eyes though) of her curates, of French novels, and her education in a school at Brus- sels. ' Miss Bronte in a letter to Mr. James Taylor, printed at length in Charlotte Bronte and her Circle, gives a further impression of the Ar- nolds. ' Mrs. Arnold is, indeed, as I judge from my own observations no less than from the unanimous testimony of all who really know her, a good and amiable woman ; but the intellectual is not her forte, and she has no pretensions to power or completeness of character. The same remark, I think, applies to her daughters. You admire in them the kindliest feelings towards each other and their fellow creatures, and they offer in their home circle a beautiful example of family unity, and of that refinement which is sure to spring thence; but when the conversation turns on literature or any subject that offers a test for the intellect, you usually felt that their opinions were rather 1851 DR. ARNOLD'S FAMILY 513 one of the greatest and best men of his time, the posses- sion of qualities the most estimable and endearing. Of my kind hostess herself I cannot speak in terms too high. Without being able to share all her opinions, philosophi- cal, political, or religions — without adopting her theories — I yet find a worth and greatness in herself, and a con- sistency, benevolence, perseverance in her practice, such as wins the sincerest esteem and affection. She is not a per- son to be judged by her writings alone, but rather by her imitative than original, rather sentimental than sound. Those who have only seen Mrs. Arnold once will necessarily, I think, judge o£ her unfavourably ; her manner on introduction disappointed me sen- sibly, as lacking that genuineness and simplicity one seemed to have a right to expect in the chosen life companion of Dr. Arnold. On my remarking as much to Mrs. Gaskell and Sir J. K.-Shuttleworth I was told for my consolation it was a " conventional manner," but that it vanished on closer acquaintance ; fortunately this last assurance proved true. It is observable that Matthew Arnold, the eldest son, and the author of the volume of poems to which you allude, inherits his mother's defect. Striking and prepossessing in appearance, his man- ner displeases from its seeming foppery. I own it caused me at first to regard him with regretful surprise; the shade of Dr. Arnold seemed to me to frown on his young representative. I was told, however, that "Mr. Arnold improved upon acquaintance." So it was: ere long a real modesty appeared under his assumed conceit, and some genuine intellectual aspirations, as well as high educational acquirements, dis- placed superficial affectations. I was given to understand that his theological opinions were very vague and unsettled, and indeed he betrayed as much in the course of conversation. Most unfortunate for him, doubtless, has been the untimely loss of his father.' Thomas Arnold (1795-1842), the famous head-master of Rugby, had been dead some years when Charlotte Bronte visited Fox How, a pleasant house at Ambleside still. occupied by members of his family. Matthew Arnold (1823-1888), distinguished alike as a poet and a critic, was just on the eve of his appointment as an inspector of schools at this time. He had published Alaric at Borne (1840), Cromwell (1843), The Strayed Reveller (1849) — three little volumes of verse — before 1851. His years of fame were all before him. He sent his Poems of 1853 to Miss Bronte, and the book is still in her husband's library. His poem on ' Haworth Churchyard * was first published in leaser's Magazine, May 1855, and reprinted in Poems, 2 vols., 1877. 33 514 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE own deeds and life, than which nothing can be more ex- emplary or nobler. She seems to me the benefactress of Ambleside, yet takes no sort of credit to herself for her active and indefatigable philanthropy. The government of her honsehold is admirably administered: all she does is well done, from the writing of a history down to the quietest female occupation. ~No sort of carelessness or neglect is allowed under her rule, and yet she is not over- strict or too rigidly exacting : her servants and her poor neighbours love as well as respect her. 'I must not, however, fall into the error of talking too much about her, merely because my own mind is just now deeply impressed with what I have seen of her intellectual power and moral worth. Faults she has : but to me they appear very trivial weighed in the balance against her ex- cellences. 'Your account of Mr. Atkinson tallies exactly with Miss Martineau's. She too said that placidity and mildness (rather than originality and power) were his external char- acteristics. She described him as a combination of the antique Greek sage with the European modern man of science. Perhaps it was mere perversity in me to get the notion that torpid veins, and a cold, slow-beating heart, lay under his marble outside. But he is a materialist : he serenely denies us our hope of immortality and quietly blots from man's future Heaven and the Life to come. That is why a savour of bitterness seasoned my feeling towards him. 'All you say of Mr. Thackeray is most graphic and characteristic. He stirs in me both sorrow and anger. Why should he lead so harassing a life ? Why should his mocking tongue so perversely deny the better feelings of his better moods ?' For some time, whenever she was well enough in health and spirits, she had been employing herself upon ' Vil- lette ;' but she was frequently unable to write, and was 1851 LETTER TO MR. SMITH 515 both grieved and angry with herself for her inability. 1 In February she writes as follows to Mr. Smith : — 'Something yon say abont going to London ; but the words are dreamy, and fortunately I am not obliged to hear or answer them. London and summer are many months away : our moors are all white with snow just now, and little redbreasts come every morning to the window for crumbs. One can lay no plans three or four months beforehand. Besides, I don't deserve to go to London : nobody merits a change or a treat less. I secretly think, on the contrary, I ought to be put in prison, and kept on bread and water in solitary confinement — without even a letter from Oornhill — till I have written a book. One of two things would certainly result from such a mode of treatment pursued for twelve months ; either I should come out at the end of that time with a three -volume MS. in my hand, or else with a condition of intellect that would exempt me ever after from literary efforts and expectations.' 3 1 She writes to Mr. George Smith on January 19, 1851 : — 'The enclosed copy should have been returned ere this, if I had been able to attend to ordinary matters, but I grew worse after I wrote to you laBt and was very ill for some days. Weak I still con- tinue, but believe I am getting better, and very grateful do I feel for the improvement — grateful for my father's sake no less than for my own. ' It made me sorrowful to hear that you too had been ill, but I trust you are now quite recovered. I thought you would hardly ever be ill ; you looked so healthy, but over-anxiety and confining labour will undermine the strongest. 'I have not heard a word from Miss Martineau and conclude her silence is of no good omen.' 2 There are some interesting omissions from this letter to her pub- lisher, which is dated February 5, 1851 : — 'Perhaps it is hardly necessary to trouble you with an answer to your last, as I have already written to Mr. Williams, and no doubt he will have told you that I have yielded with ignoble facility in the matter of The Professor. Still, it may be proper to make some at- 516 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Meanwhile she was disturbed and distressed by the pub- lication of Miss Martineau's ' Letters/ &c. ; ' they came tempt towards dignifying that act of submission by averring that it was done " under protest." ' The Professor has now had the honour of being rejected nine times by the " Tr-de " (three rejections go to your own share) ; you may affirm that you accepted it this last time, but that cannot be admitted ; if it were only for the sake of symmetry and effect I must regard this martyrised MS. as repulsed, or at any rate withdrawn for the ninth time I Few, I flatter myself, have earned an equal distinction, and of course my feelings towards it can only be paralleled by those of a doting parent towards an idiot child. Its merits, I plainly perceive, will never be owned by anybody but Mr. Williams and me ; very particu- lar and unique must be our penetration, and I think highly of us both accordingly. You may allege that that merit is not visible to the naked eye. Granted ; but the smaller the commodity the more inesti- mable its value. 'You kindly propose to take The Professor into custody. Ah, no ! His modest merit shrinks at the thought of going alone and unbe- friended to a spirited publisher. Perhaps with slips of him you might light an occasional cigar, or you might remember to lose him some- where, and a Cornhill functionary would gather him up and consign him to the repositories of waste paper, and thus he would prematurely find his way to the "butter man " and trunkmakers. No, I have put him by and locked him up, not indeed in my desk, where I could not tolerate the monotony of his demure Quaker countenance, but in a cupboard by himself. ' You touch upon invitations from baronets, &c. As you are well aware, a fondness for such invitations and an anxious desire to obtain them is my weak point. Aristocratic notice is what I especially covet, cultivate, and cling to. It does me so much good ; it gives me such large, free, and congenial enjoyment. How happy I am when coun- selled or commended by a baronet or noticed by a lord I ' Those papers on the London poor are singularly interesting ; to me they open a new and strange world, very dark, very dreary, very noisome in some of its recesses, a world that is fostering such a future as I scarcely dare imagine, it awakens thoughts not to be touched on in this foolish letter. The fidelity and simplicity of the letterpress details harmonise well with the daguerreotype illustrations. ' You must thank your mother and sisters for their kind remem- brances and offer mine in return.' 1 Letters on tlie Laws of Man's Social Nature, by Harriet Martineau and H. G. Atkinson, 1851. 1851 MISS MARTINEAU'S 'LETTERS,' ETC. 517 down with a peculiar force and heaviness upon a heart that looked, with fond and earnest faith, to a future life as to the -meeting-place with those who were ' loved and lost awhile.' 'February 11, 1851. ' My dear Sir, — Have you yet read Miss Martineau's and Mr. Atkinson's new work, " Letters on the Nature and De- velopment of Man"? If you have not it would be worth your while to do so. ' Of the impression this book has made on me I will not now say much. It is the first exposition of avowed atheism and materialism I have ever read ; the first unequivocal dec- laration of disbelief in the existence of a God or a future life I have- ever seen. In judging of such exposition and declaration, one would wish entirely to put aside the sort of instinctive horror they awaken, and to consider them in an impartial spirit and collected mood. This I find it dif- ficult to do. The strangest thing is that we are called on to rejoice over this hopeless blank — to receive this bitter bereavement as great gain — to welcome this unutterable desolation as a state of pleasant freedom. Who could do this if he would ? Who would do it if he could ? ' Sincerely, for my own part, do I wish to find and know the Truth ; but if this be Truth, well may she guard her- self with mysteries, and cover herself with a veil. If this be Truth, man or woman who beholds her can but curse the day he or she was born. I, said, however, I would not dwell on what / thought ; I wish to hear, rather, what some other person thinks, some one whose feelings are unapt to bias his judgment. Read the book, then, in an unprej- udiced spirit, and candidly say what you think of it. 1 I mean, of course, if you have time — not otherwise.' 1 ' I do most entirely agree with you in what you say about Miss Martineau's and Mr. Atkinson's book,' Miss Bronte writes to Mr. James Taylor (March 24, 1851). ' I deeply regret its publication for the lady's sake ; it gives a death-blow to her future usefulness. Who can trust the word, or rely on the judgment, of an avowed atheist ?' 518 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE And yet she could not bear the contemptuous tone in which this work was spoken of by many critics ; it made her more indignant than almost any other circumstance during my acquaintance with her. Much as she regretted the publication of the book, she could not see that it had given any one a right to sneer at any action, certainly prompted by no wordly motive. ' Your remarks on Miss Martineau and her book pleased me greatly, from their tone and spirit. I have even taken the liberty of transcribing for her benefit one or two phrases, because I know they will cheer her ; she likes sympathy and appreciation (as all people do who deserve them); and most fully do I agree with you in the dislike you express of that hard, contemptuous tone in which her work is spoken of by many critics.' Before I return from the literary opinions of the author to the domestic interests of the woman I must copy out what she felt and thought about ' The Stones of Ven- ice." ' " The Stones of Venice" seem nobly laid and chiselled. How grandly the quarry of vast marbles is disclosed! Mr. Ruskin seems to me one of the few genuine writers, as dis- tinguished from book-makers, of this age. His earnestness even amuses me in certain passages ; for I canuot help laughing to think how utilitarians will fume and fret over his deep, serious (and, as they will think), fanatical rever- ence for Art. That pure and severe mind you ascribed to him speaks in every line. He writes like a consecrated priest of the Abstract and Ideal. ' I shall bring with me " The Stones of Venice ;" all the foundations of marble and of granite, together with the mighty quarry out of which they were hewn ; and, into the bargain, a small assortment of crotchets and dicta — the private property of one John Ruskin, Esq/ 1 The Stones of Venice, by John Ruskin, appeared in three volumes, 1851-2-3. Miss Bronte must, therefore, have received the first volume from Smith, Elder, & Co., who then published Mr. Ruskin's works. 1851 BENEFIT FROM COMPANIONSHIP 519 As spring drew on the depression of spirits to which she was subject began to grasp her again, and ' to crush her with a day-and-night-mare.' She became afraid of sinking as low as she had done in the autumn ; and, to avoid this, she prevailed on her old friend and schoolfellow to come and stay with her for a few weeks in March. She found great benefit from this companionship, both from the con- genial society itself and from the self-restraint of thought imposed by the necessity of entertaining her and looking after her comfort. On this occasion Miss Bronte said, ' It will not do to get into the habit of running away from home, and thus temporarily evading an oppression instead of facing, wrestling with, and conquering it, or being con- quered by it." 1 On March 8 she writes to Mr. Smith — ' I have read Rose Douglas, read it with a tranquil but not a shallow pleasure ; full well do I like it. It is a good book — so simple, so natu- ral, so truthful, so graphic, so religious — in a word, so Scottish in the best and kindliest sense of the term. Surely it will succeed, for no critic can speak otherwise than well of it. ' I could not refrain from writing these few lines respecting it, and you must be forgiving should my note intrude on a busy moment.' The letter is continued on March 11 : — ' The preceding was written before I received yours ; a few more lines must now be added. ' Do you know that the first part of your note is most dangerous- ly suggestive ? What a rich field of subject you point out in your allusions to Cornhill, &c. — a field at which I myself should only have ventured to glance like the serpent at Paradise ; but when Adam him- self opens the gates and shows the way in, what can the honest snake do but bend its crest in token of gratitude and glide rejoicingly through the aperture? 'But no! Don't be alarmed. You are all safe from Currer Bell — safe from his satire — safer from his eulogium. We cannot (or at least /cannot) write of our acquaintance with the consciousness that others will recognise their portraits, or that they themselves will know the hand which has sketched them. Under such circumstances the pencil would falter in the fingers and shrink alike from the indication of bold shades and brilliant lights (especially the last, because it would 520 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE I shall now make an extract from one of her letters, which is purposely displaced as to time. 1 I quote it because look like flattery) ; plain speaking would seem audacious, praise ob- trusive. ' "Were it possible that I could take you all fearlessly, like so many abstractions, or historical characters that had been dust a huudred years, could handle, analyse, delineate you, without danger of the picture being recognised either by yourselves or others, I should think my material abundant and rich. This, however, is no more possible than that the nurse should give the child the moon out of the sky. So — I repeat it — you are very safe.' 'Letter to Ellen Nussey, dated April 9, 1851. ' Papa was much pleased with Mr. Buskin's pamphlet * only he thought the scheme of amalgamation suggested towards the close- impracticable. For my part I regard the brochure as a refreshing piece of honest writing, good sense uttered by pure lips. The Pusey- ite priesthood will not relish it ; it strips them mercilessly of their pompous pretensions. ' Was not Mr. Thackeray's speech at Macready's farewell dinner peculiarly characteristic? I fancied so from the outline I saw of it in the papers. ' It seemed to me scarcely to disguise a secret sneer at the whole concern — the hero and his worshippers — and indeed Mr. Mac- ready's admirers exaggerate their enthusiasm. Your description of Mr. Forster made me smile ; I can well fancy him in that state of ebullient emotion. ' ' I paused in a sort of wonder over what you say in referring to your new Indian undertaking. While earnestly wishing you all suc- cess in it I cannot but wish with at least equal earnestness that it may not bring too much additional care and labour. ' May not trade have its Alexanders as well as war ? and does not many a man begin with a modest Macedon in the City and end by desiring another world for his speculations ? ' But I suppose your work is your pleasure and your responsibility your strength, and very likely what a looker-on regards as a grievous burden is only the weight necessary to steady the arch. Your im- plied injunction to discretion is not uttered in a negligent ear, nor is Currer Bell insensible to the compliment of being told something . about business ; that he does not understand all the bearings of the communication by no means diminishes his gratification in receiving and looking upon it ; he turns it in his hand as a savage would a new * Noteson the Construction of Sheepfolds. By John Ruskin, 1851. 1851 THIRD OFFER OF MARRIAGE 521 it relates to a third offer of marriage which she had, and be- cause I find that some are apt to imagine, from the extraor- dinary power with which she represented the passion of love in her novels, that she herself was easily susceptible of it. ' Could I ever feel enough for ' to accept of him as a husband? Friendship — gratitude— esteem — I have ; -but each moment he came near me, and that I could see his eyes fastened on me, my veins ran ice. Now that he is away I feel far more gentle towards him ; it is only close by that I grow rigid, stiffening with a strange mixture of apprehension and anger, which nothing softens but his re- treat and a perfect subduing of his manner. I did not want to be proud, nor intend to be proud, but I was forced to be so. Most true it is that we are overruled by One above us, that in His hands our very will is as clay in the hands of the potter.' I have now named all the offers of marriage she ever re- ceived, until that was made which she finally accepted. The gentleman referred to in this letter retained so much regard for her as to be her friend to the end of her life, a circumstance to his credit and to hers. Before her friend Ellen took her departure Mr. Bronte trinket or tool of unknown use, and likes without fully comprehend- ing it. ' I hope Mr. Taylor will bear the voyage and the change of climate well. ' I am truly soiTy to hear that your mother has not been well, and especially that her indisposition arose from so harassing a cause as family annoyance of any kind; give my kind regards to her and your sisters.' 1 ' Mr. Taylor.' This was James Taylor, who, as managing clerk in the employment of Smith, Elder, & Co., is frequently mentioned in the correspondence. He was, soon after Charlotte Bronte refused to marry him, despatched by Smith, Elder, & Co. to Bombay, where for a few years he conducted the branch house of Smith, Taylor, & Co. That venture was unsuccessful, but Mr. Taylor prospered in Bombay, married, and shortly before his death was elected sheriff. The in- scription on his tomb in the Bombay cemetery runs, ' James Taylor, died April 29, 1874, aged 57.' 522 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE caught cold, and continued for some weeks much out of health, with an attack of bronchitis. His spirits, too, became much depressed, and all his daughter's efforts were directed towards cheering him. When he grew better, and had regained his previous strength, she resolved to avail herself of an invitation which she had received some time before to pay a visit in London. This year, 1851, was, as every one remembers, the time of the Great Exhibition ; but even with that at- traction in prospect she did not intend to stay there long ; and, as usual, she made an agreement with her friends, before finally accepting their offered hospitality, that her sojourn at their house was to be as quiet as ever, since any other way of proceeding disagreed with her both mentally and physically. She never looked excited except for a moment, when something in conversation called her out ; but she often felt so, even about comparative trifles, and the exhaustion of reaction was sure to follow. Under such circumstances she always became extremely thin and hag- gard ; yet she averred that the change invariably did her good afterwards. 1 1 There are five new letters, of dates prior to this London visit, three addressed to Mr. Smith and two to his mother. ' March 81, 1851. 'My dear Sir, — Mrs. Gaskell's letter had not remained unanswered a week, but the fact is she was taken with a little fit of impatience, whereof she has duly recorded her confession and repentance, and all is right now. ' I am in very reasonably good health, thank you, and always in as good spirits as I can manage to be. ' I dare offer no word of sympathy to Cornhill, hard-tasked as are its energies just now. Since you are doing right and serving with fidelity and courage in the ranks of duty, you must in a measure be happy — more happy than you have leisure to recognise. Dr. Forbes ■will tell you, and tell you truly, that successful labour to a good end is one of the best gifts of Heaven to man, and Duty, your present sovereign lady, though she wears an austere brow, has also a grateful heart, and will one day repay loyal service with noble recompense. ' What you say about relinquishing your proposed Continental trip 1851 PROPOSED VISIT TO GREAT EXHIBITION 523 Her preparations in the way of dress for this visit, in the gay time of that gay season, were singularly in accordance with her feminine taste ; quietly anxious to satisfy her loye stirs in me a feeble spirit of emulation. By way of imitation on a small scale I would fain give up all thoughts of going to London or elsewhere this spring or summer. Were I but as sure as you are of being able to work to some purpose, gladly, gladly would I make the sacrifice — indeed, it would be no sacrifice. I have before this found in absorbing work a curative and comforting power not to be yielded by relaxation. 'The Stones of Venice is a splendid and most tasteful volume, speak- ing of the mere outside and illustrations ; the letterpress I have as yet only glanced over, catching sparkles of living eloquence here and there, but I hold in reserve the pleasure of studying it thoroughly. ' You speak highly of Mr. Taylor, and I think deservedly so. I be- lieve he is a good man, firm-principled, right-minded, and reliable. His belongs to that better order of character to which it is difficult to render full justice in an early stage of acquaintance. To be appreci- ated he must be known. In him the kernel is not without its husk ; and you must have time and opportunity to penetrate beneath the outside, to get inured to the manner before j r ou even understand the man. So I think at least. ' With inly felt wishes for your success, and renewed and earnest injunctions that you will never permit the task of writing to Currer Bell to add however slightly to your burdens (for, whether you think so or not, he is a disciplined person who can endure long fastings and exist on Very little food — just what Fate chooses to give — and indeed can do without), I am sincerely yours, ' C. BrontE. 'George Smith, Esq.' ' Haworth : April 17, 1851. ' My dear Mrs. Smith, — Before I received your note I was nursing a comfortable and complacent conviction that I had quite made up my mind not to go to Loudon this year ; the Great Exhibition was noth- ing — only a series of bazaars under a magnified hot-house, and I myself was in a Pharisaical state of superiority to temptation. But Pride has its fall. I read your invitation, and immediately felt a great wish to descend from my stilts. Not to conceal the truth, I should like to come and see you extremely well. ' I think with you, however, that June would be the best time to name — better than an earlier period. My father, though now much better than he was, has usually somewhat variable health throughout 524: LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE for modest, dainty, neat attire, and not regardless of the becoming, yet remembering consistency, both with her gen- eral appearance and with her means, in every selection she made. the spring, and till warmer weather fairly sets in I should hardly think it right or feel happy to leave him. ' Mr. Taylor, whose brief visit gave me great pleasure, told me, to my regret, that you had all been ill of the influenza, and that Miss Smith especially had suffered. This I was very sorry to hear, because she is not one of the strongest, and I fear would not hastily lose the debilitating effects of influenza. I trust she is now quite recovered. ' With kindest regards to her and all your circle, and with my fa- ther's acknowledgment and response to your kind remembrance of him, ' I am, my dear Mrs. Smith, ' Sincerely yours, ' 0. Bronte. ' P.S. — A sudden reproach occurs to me. When I was last in Lon- don I professed to be working a cushion of which I meant when fin- ished to make an offering to you. That cushion — or rather the can- vas which ought ere this to have matured into a cushion — lies neatly papered up in a drawer, justasit was last summer. Could even Car- dinal Wiseman grant absolution for shortcomings of this description ? But you shall have a cushion, and a pretty one, only you must not be too particular in asking me how I came by it. You will indeed have the perfect goodness to suppose it of my work ; the circumstance of its being from the same pattern as the one I intended to manufacture will favour this benevolent delusion. On second thoughts I might quite well have passed it off as such, if I had not gone and spoiled that plan by the above confession.' ' April 19, 1851. ' My dear Sir, — My scheme of emulation appears to have terminated in a somewhat egregious failure, as perhaps your mother may have told you. One can't help it. One does not profess to be made out of granite. ' Your project, depend on it, has been quite providentially put a stop to. And do you really think I would have gone to the Bhine this summer ? Do you think I would have partaken in all that un- earned pleasure ? ' Now listen to a serious word. You might possibly have persuaded me to go (I do not think that you would, but it does not become me to be very positive on that point, seeing that proofs of inflexibility do not 1851 PREPARING FOR A VISIT TO LONDON 525 ' By the by, I meant to ask you when yon went to Leeds to do a small errand for me, but fear your hands will be too full of business. It was merely this : in case you chanced abound), yet had I gone I should not have been truly happy ; self-re- proach would have gnawed at the root of enjoyment ; it is only drones and wasps'who willingly eat honey they have not hived, and I protest against being classed with either of these insects. Ergo, though I am sorry for your own and your sister's sake that your castle on the Rhine has turned out a castle in the air, I am not at all sorry for mine. ' May I be so egotistical as to say a word or two about my health ? Two ladies, neither of them unknown to fame, whom I reverence for their talents and love for their amiability, but of whom I would beg the small favour of being allowed to remain in tolerable health, seem determined between them that I shall be a sort of invalid ; and, chiefly owing to them, I am occasionally kept in hot water by people asking me how I am. If I do not answer the letters of these ladies by return of post — which, without being precisely a person overwhelmed with business, one may not always have time to do — flying rumours present- ly reach me derogatory to my physical condition. Twice kind but mis- led strangers living in southern counties have with the greatest good- ness written to ask me to tlieir houses for the benefit of a milder cli- mate, offering every " accommodation suitable to an invalid lady." 'This, in one sense, touches me with almost painful gratitude, but in another it makes me a little nervous. Why may not I be well like other people ? I think I am reasonably well — not strong or capable of much continuous exertion (which I do not remember that I ever was), and apt, no doubt, to look haggard if over-fatigued, but other- wise I have no ailment, and I maintain that I am well, and hope (D.V.) to continue so awhile. I hope you are well too. You may be sure I was very glad to see Mr. Taylor, and that he was most cord- ially welcome at Haworth. Please to tell Mr. Williams that I dare on no account to come to London till he is friends with me, which I am sure he cannot be, as I have never heard from him for nearly three months. ' Will you have the goodness to forward the enclosed note to Dr. Forbes, whose address I do not know ? It is an acknowledgment of his gift of his little book, the lecture, which I like very much. 'I am * Yours sincerely, ' George Smith, Esq. ' C. Bronte.' ' May 12, 1851. ' My dear Sir, — I fear it cannot be denied that Mr. Thackeray has actually gone and written a poem. The whole of the Mayday Ode is 526 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE to be in any shop where the lace cloaks, both black and white, of which I spoke, were sold, to ask their price. I suppose they would hardly like to send a few to Haworth not poetry — that I will maintain ; it opens with decent prose — but at the fourth stanza — "I felt a thrill of love and awe" — it begins to swell ; towards the middle it waxes strong and rises high, takes a tone sustained and sweet, fills the ear with music, the heart with glow and expansion — becomes, in a word, poetry. ' Shame and sin that the man who can write thus should write thus so seldom ! ' Different indeed is Mr. Ruskin. (I have read the Stones of Venice through.) Thackeray has no love for his art or his work; he neglects, it ; he mocks at it ; he trifles with it. Ruskin — for Ms art and Ms work — has a deep, serious passion. We smile sometimes at Ruskin's intense earnestness of feeling towards things that can feel nothing for him in return — for instance, when he breaks out in an apostrophe to a sepulchre, " O pure aud lovely Monument — My most beloved in Italy — that land of Mourning !" ' I wondered to myself once or twice whether there would be any chance of hearing Mr. Ruskin's lectures. No doubt they will be blent throughout with sarcasm calculated to vex one to the heart ; but still just out of curiosity, one would like to know what he will say. ' I do not quite understand about the ' ' Guild of Literature," though I have seen it mentioned in the papers ; you must be kind enough to explain it better when I see you. ' Of course I am not in the least looking forwards to going to London, nor reckoning on it, nor allowing the matter to take any particular place in my thoughts ; no, I am very sedulously cool and nonchalaut. Moreover I am uot going to be glad to see anybody there ; gladness is an exaggeration of sentiment one does not permit oneself ; to be pleased is quite enough — and not too well pleased either, only with "pleasure of a. faint, tepid kind, and to a stinted, penurious amount. Perhaps when I see your mother and Mr. Williams again I shall just be able to get up a weak flicker of gratification, but that will be all. From even this effort I shall be exempt on seeing you. Authors and publishers are never expected to meet with any other than hostile feel- ings and on shy and distant terms. They never ought to have to shake hands ; they should just bow to each other and pass by on opposite sides, keeping several yards distance between them. And besides, if obliged to communicate by post, they should limit what they have to 1851 PREPARING FOR A VISIT TO LONDON 527 to be looked at ; indeed, if they cost very much it would be useless, but if they are reasonable and they would send them I should like to see them ; and also some chemisettes of small size (the full woman's size don't fit me), both of simple style for every day and good quality for best. 1 . . . * It appears I could not rest satisfied when I was well off. I told you I had taken one of the black lace mantles, but when I came to try it with the black satin dress, with which I should chiefly want to wear it, I found the effect was far say to concise notes of about three lines apiece, which reminds me that this is too long, and that it is time I thanked you for sending the divi- dend, and begged with proper form to be permitted to subscribe my- self ' Respectfully yours, ' C. Bronte. ' George Smith, Esq.' 'May 20, 1851. 'My dear Mrs. Smith, — It is pleasant to hear that Mr. Thackeray still brings a lively appetite to a good dinner ; I did not know whether his nervous anxiety about the forthcoming lectures might not possibly have impaired it. One of the prettiest sights of the Exhibition, I should think, would be to see Jacob Omnium conducting hither and thither his tiny and fragile charge,. W. M. Thackeray, Esq. You can keep your little socks for Jacob Omnium's nurseling if you like. If they are too large one might (in another year's time) knit a smaller pair for the purpose. ' If all be well, and if my father continues in his present satisfactory state of health, I shall be at liberty to come to London on Wednesday week, i.e. the 29th. I will not say much about being glad to see you all. Long ago, when I wa« a little girl, I received a somewhat sharp lesson on the duty of being glad in peace and quietness, in fear and moderation ; this lesson did me good, and has never been forgotten. ' Should there be any objection to the day I have fixed, you will be kind enough to tell me. If I do not hear from you I shall conclude that it is approved. I should come by the express train which arrives in Euston Square at 10 p.m. ' With kindest regards — my father's as well as my own — to you and yours, ' I am, my dear Mrs. Smith, ' Yours very sincerely, ' Mrs. Smith, 76 Gloucester Terrace.' ' & Bbonte - 1 Prom a letter to Ellen Nussey, dated April 12, 1851. 528 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE from good ; the beauty of the lace was lost, and it looked somewhat brown and rusty ; I wrote to Mr. Stocks, request- ing him to change it for a white mantle of the same price ; he was extremely courteous and sent to London for one, which I have got this morning. The price is less, being but 11. lis. ; it is pretty, neat, and light, looks well on black ; and, upon reasoning the matter over, I came to the philosophic conclusion that it would be no shame for a per- son of my means to wear a cheaper thing ; so I think I shall take it, and if you ever see it and call it "trumpery" so much the worse. 1 ' Do you know that I was in Leeds on the very same day with you — last Wednesday ? I had thought of telling you where I was going, and having your help and company in buying a bonnet, &c, but then I reflected this would merely be making a selfish use of you, so I determined to manage or mismanage the matter alone. I went to Hurst & Hall's for the bonnet, and got one which seemed grave and quiet there amongst all the splendours ; but now it looks infinitely too gay with its pink lining. I saw some beautiful silks of pale sweet colours, but had not the spirit nor the means to launch out at the rate of five shillings per yard, and went and bought a black silk at three shillings after all. I rather regret this, because papa says he would have lent me a sov- ereign if he had known. I believe, if you had been there, you would have forced me to get into debt.' ... I really can no more come to Birstall before I go to London than I can fly. I have quantities of sewing to do, as well as house- hold matters to arrange, before I leave, as they will clean, &c, in my absence. Besides, I am grievously afflicted with the headache, which I trust to change of air for re- lieving ; but meantime, as it proceeds from the stomach, it makes me very thin and grey ; neither you nor anybody else would fatten me up or put me into good condition for 1 From a letter to Ellen Nussey, dated April 23, 1851. 'Letter to Ellen TSTussey, dated May 10, 1851. 1851 LETTER TO MR. DOBELL 529 the visit ; it is fated otherwise. No matter. Calm your pas- sion; yet I am glad to see it. Such spirit seems to prove health. Good-bye, in haste. ' Your poor mother is like Tabby, Martha, aud papa ; all these fancy I am somehow, by some mysterious process, to be married in London, or to engage myself to matrimony. How I smile internally ! How groundless and improbable is the idea! Papa seriously told me yesterday that if I married and left him he should give up housekeeping and go into lodgings V ' I copy the following, for the sake of the few words de- scribing the appearance of the heathery moors in late sum- mer : — TO SYDNEY DOBELL, ESQ. ' May 24, 1851. 'My dear Sir, — I hasten to send Mrs. Dobell the auto- graph. It was the word "Album" that frightened me : I thought she wished me to write a sonnet on purpose for it, which I could not do. 'Your proposal respecting a journey to Switzerland is deeply kind ; it draws me with the force of a mighty Temp- tation, but the stem Impossible holds me back. No ! I cannot go to Switzerland this summer. ' Why did the editor of the " Eclectic " erase that most powerful and pictorial passage ? He could not be insen- sible to its beauty ; perhaps he thought it profane. Poor man! ' I know nothing of such an orchard country as you de- scribe. I have never seen such a region. Our hills only confess the coming of summer by growing green with, young fern and moss, in secret little hollows. Their bloom is reserved for autumn ; then they burn with a kind of dark glow, different, doubtless, from the blush of garden blossoms. About the close of next month I expect to go to London, to pay a brief and quiet visit. I fear chance 1 Letter to Ellen Nussey, dated May 31, 1851. 530 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE will not be so propitious as to bring you to town while I am there ; otherwise how glad I should be if you would call ! With kind regards to Mrs. Dobell, believe me sincerely yours, 0. Bkonte.' Her next letter is dated from London. 1 ' June 2. 'I came here on Wednesday, being summoned a day sooner than I expected, in order to be in time for Thack- eray's second lecture, which was delivered on Thursday afternoon. This, as you may suppose, was a genuine treat to me, and I was glad not to miss it. It was given in Willis's Rooms, where the Almack's balls are held — a great painted and gilded saloon with long sofas for benches. The audience was said to be the cream of London society, and it looked so. I did not at all expect the great lecturer would know me or notice me under these circumstances, with admiring duchesses and countesses seated in rows be- fore him ; but he met me as I entered — shook hands — took me to his mother, whom I had not before seen, and intro- duced me. She is a fine, handsome, young-looking old lady ; was very gracious, and called with one of her grand- daughters next day. 'Thackeray called, too, separately. I had a long talk with him, and I think he knows me now a little better than he did ; but of this I cannot yet be sure ; he is a great and strange man. There is quite a furore for his lectures. They are a sort of essays, characterised by his own pecul- iar originality and power, and delivered with a finished taste and ease, which is felt, but cannot be described. Just before the lecture began somebody came behind me, leaned over, and said, "Permit me, as a Yorkshire man, to introduce myself." I turned round, saw a strange, not handsome face, which puzzled me for half a minute, and 1 Prom 112 Gloucester Terrace, Hyde Park. It was written to Ellleu Nussey. 1851 'CURRER BELL' AT WILLIS'S ROOMS 531 then I said, "You are Lord Carlisle." 1 He nodded and smiled ; he talked a few minutes very pleasantly and cour- teously. ' Afterwards came another man with the same plea, that he was a Yorkshire man, and this turned out to be Mr. Monckton Milnes." Then came Dr. Forbes, whom I was sincerely glad to see. On Friday I went to the Crystal Palace; 3 it is a marvellous, stirring, bewildering sight — a mixture of a genii palace and a mighty bazaar, but it is not much in my way; I liked the lecture better. On Saturday I saw the Exhibition at Somerset House ; about half a dozen of the pictures are good and interesting, the rest of little worth. Sunday — yesterday — was a day to be marked with a white stone : through most of the day I was very happy, without being tired or over-excited. In the afternoon I went to hear D'Aubign6, the great Protestant French preacher; 4 it was pleasant — half sweet, half sad — and strangely suggestive, to hear the French language once more. For health, I have so far got on very fairly, considering 'that I came here far from well.' The lady who accompanied Miss Bronte to the lecture of Thackeray's alluded to says that, soon after they had taken their places, she was aware that he was pointing out her companion to several of his friends, but she hoped that Miss Bronte herself would not perceive it. After some time, however, during which many heads had been turned 1 This Lord Carlisle was George William Frederick Howard, 7th Earl (1803-1864). He won the Chancellor's prize for Latin verse, anrl the Newdegate in 1821, succeeded his father in the earldom in 1848, and wrote A Diary in Turkish and Greek Waters, 1853. 8 Afterwards Lord Houghton (1809-1885). Wrote Poems of Many Tears (1838), Life of Keats (1848), and other works. 3 It will be remembered that the Great Exhibition was called the Crystal Palace, and that the buildiDg was at this time in Hyde Park. 4 Jean Henri Merle d'Aubigne (1794-1872) was pastor of the French Protestant Church at Hamburg. He wrote a History of the Reforma- tion and other works. 532 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE round, and many glasses put up, in order to look at the author of 'Jane Eyre,' Miss Bronte said, ' I am afraid Mr. Thackeray has been playing me a trick ;' but she soon be- came too much absorbed in the lecture to notice the atten- tion which was being paid to her, except when it was di- rectly offered, as in the case of Lord Carlisle and Mr. Monckton Milnes. When the lecture was ended Mr. Thack- eray came down from the platform, and making his way towards her asked her for her opinion. This she men- tioned to me not many days afterwards, adding remarks almost identical with those which I subsequently read in 'Villette,' where a similar action on the part of M. Paul Emanuel is related. • As our party left the Hall he stood at the entrance; he saw and knew me, and lifted his hat ; he offered his hand in passing, and uttered the words, "Qu'en dites-vous ?" — question eminently characteristic, and reminding me, even in this his moment of triumph, of that inquisitive restless- ness, that absence of what I considered desirable self-con- trol, which were amongst his faults. He should not have cared just then to ask what I thought, or what anybody thought ; but he did care, and he was too natural to con- ceal, too impulsive to repress, his wish. Well ! if I blamed his over-eagerness I liked his naivete. I would have praised him ; I had plenty of praise in my heart ; but, alas ! no words on my lips. Who has words at the right moment ? I stam- mered some lame expressions ; bat was truly glad when other people, coming up with profuse congratulations, cov- ered my deficiency by their redundancy.' As they were preparing to leave the room her com- panion saw with dismay that many of the audience were forming themselves into two lines, on each side of the aisle down which they had to pass before reaching the door. Aware that any delay would only make the ordeal more trying, her friend took Miss Bronte's arm in hers, 1851 'CURRER BELL' AT WILLIS'S ROOMS 533 and they went along the avenue of eager and admiring faces. During this passage through the 'cream of so- ciety ' Miss Bronte's hand trembled to such a degree that her companion feared lest she should turn faint and be unable to proceed ; and she dared not express her sym- pathy or try to give her strength by any touch or word, lest it might bring on the crisis she dreaded. Sarely such thoughtless manifestation of curiosity is a blot on the scutcheon of true politeness ! The rest of the account of this her longest visit to London shall be told in her own words. 1 1 In a letter to Ellen Nussey, dated June 11, 1851. There is a letter from Miss Bronte to her father, dated June 7, and written from 112 Gloucester Terrace, Hyde Park : — 'I was veiy glad to hear that you continued in pretty good health, and that Mr, Oartman came to help you on Sunday. I fear you will not have had a very comfortable week in the dining-room ; but by this time I suppose the parlour reformation will be nearly com- pleted, and you will soon be able to return to your old quarters. The letter you sent me this morning was from Mary Taylor. She contin- ues well and happy in New Zealand, and her shop seems to answer well. The French newspaper duly arrived. Yesterday I went for the second time to the Crystal Palace. We remained in it about three hours, and I must say I was more struck with it on this occasion than at my first visit. It is a wonderful place — vast, strange, new, and im- possible to describe. Its grandeur does not consist in one thing, but in the unique assemblage of all things. Whatever human indus- try has created you find there, from the great compartments filled with railway engines and boilers, with mill machinery in full work, with splendid carriages of all kinds, with harness of every descrip- tion, to the glass-covered and velvet-spread stands loaded with the most gorgeous work of the goldsmith and silversmith, and the care- fully guarded caskets full of real diamonds and pearls worth hun- dreds of thousands of pounds. It may be called a bazaar or a fair, but it is such a bazaar or fair as Eastern genii might have created. It seems as if magic only could have gathered this mass of wealth from all the ends of the earth — as if none but supernatural hands could have arranged it thus, with such a blaze and contrast of col- ours and marvellous power of effect. The multitude filling the great aisles seems ruled and subdued by some invisible influence. Amongst the thirty thousand souls that peopled it the day I was there not one 534 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ' I sit down to write to you this morning in an inex- pressibly flat state ; having spent the whole of yesterday and the day before in a gradually increasing headache, which grew at last rampant and violent, ended with ex- cessive sickness, and this morning I am quite weak and -washy. I hoped to leave my headaches behind me at Haworth ; but it seems I brought them carefully packed in my trunk, and very much have they been in my way since I came. . . . Since I wrote last I have seen various things worth describing, Eachel, the great French actress, amongst the number. But to-day I really have no pith for the task. I can only wish you good-bye with all my heart. 'I cannot boast that London has agreed with me well this time ; the oppression of frequent headache, sickness, and a low tone of spirits has poisoned many moments which might otherwise have been pleasant. Sometimes I have felt this hard, and have been tempted to murmur at Fate, which compels me to comparative silence and solitude for eleven months in the year, and in the twelfth, while offering social enjoyment, takes away the vigour and cheerfulness which should turn it to account. But cir- cumstances are ordered for us, and we must submit. 1 loud noise was to be heard, not one irregular movement seen ; the liv- ing tide rolls on quietly, with a deep hum like the sea heard from the distance. 'Mr. Thackeray is in high spirits about the success of his lect- ures. It is likely to add largely both to his fame and purse. He has, however, deferred this week's lecture till next Thursday, at the earnest petition of the duchesses and marchionesses, who, on the day it should have been delivered, were necessitated to go down with the Queen and Court to Ascot Races. I told him I thought he did wrong to put it off on their account, and I think so still. The amateur per- formance of Bulwer's play for the Guild of Literature has likewise been deferred on account of the races. I hope, dear papa, that you, Mr. Nicholls, and all at home continue well. Tell Martha to take her scrubbing and cleaning in moderation and not overwork herself. With kind regards to her and Tabby.' 1 This sentence is from a letter to Ellen Nussey, dated June 19, 1851. 1851 THE SIGHTS OF LONDON 535 ' Your letter ' would have been answered yesterday, but I was already gone out before post time, and was out all day. People are very kind, and perhaps I shall be glad of what I have seen afterwards, but it is often a little trying at the time. On Thursday the Marquis of Westminster asked me to a great party, to which I was to go with Mrs. D(aveuport), a beautiful and, I think, a kind woman too ; but this I resolutely declined. On Friday I dined at the Shuttleworths' and met Mrs. D(avenport) and Mr. Monck- ton Milnes. On Saturday I went to hear and see Rachel ; a wonderful sight — terrible as if the earth had cracked deep at your feet, and revealed a glimpse of hell. I shall never forget it. She made me shudder to the marrow of my bones ; in her some fiend had certainly taken up an incarnate home. She is not a woman ; she is a snake ; she is the . On Sunday I went to the Spanish Ambassa- dor's Chapel, where Cardinal Wiseman, in his archiepis- copal robes and mitre, held a confirmation. The whole scene was impiously theatrical. Yesterday (Monday) I was sent for at ten to breakfast with Mr. Rogers, the patriarch poet. Mrs. D(avenport) and Lord Glenelg were there ; no one else : this certainly proved a most calm, refined, and intellectual treat. After breakfast Sir David Brewster 2 came to take us to the Crystal Palace. I had rather dreaded this, for Sir David is a man of profoundest sci- ence, and I feared it would be impossible to understand his explanations of the mechanism, &c. ; indeed, I hardly knew how to ask him questions. I was- spared all the trouble : without being questioned he gave information in the kindest and simplest manner. After two hours spent at the Exhibition, and where, as you may suppose, I was very tired, we had to go to Lord Westminster's and spend 1 A letteT to Ellen Nussey, dated June 24, 1851. s Sir David Brewster (1781-1868). Born at Jedburgh. Was knight- ed in 1832. Published, among other works, a Life of Newton (1828) ; Letters on Natural Magic (1831) ; More Worlds than One (1854). 536 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE two hours more in looking at the collection of pictures in his splendid gallery." 1 Two letters to her father from London (which have already been printed) cover much the same ground. ' 112 Gloucester Terrace, Hyde Park, ' London : June 17, 1851. ' Dear Papa, — I write a line in haste to tell you that I find they will not let me leave London till next Tuesday ; and, as I have promised to spend a day or two with Mrs. Gaskell on my way home, it will probably be Friday or Saturday in next week before I return to Haworth. Martha will thus have a few days' more time, and must not hurry or overwork herself. Yesterday I saw Cardinal Wiseman and heard him speak. It was at a meeting of the Roman Catholic Society of St. Vincent de Paul ; the Cardinal presided. He is a big, portly man, something of the shape of Mr. Morgan ; he has not merely a double but a treble and quadruple chin ; he has a very large mouth with oily lips, and looks as if he would relish a good dinner with a bottle of wine after it. He came swimming into the room smiling, simpering, and bowing like a fat old lady, and- sat down very demure in bis chair and looked the picture of a sleek hypo- crite. He was dressed in black, like a bishop or dean in plain clothes, but wore scarlet gloves and a brilliant scarlet waistcoat. A bevy of inferior priests surrounded him, many of them very dark-looking and sinister men. The Cardinal spoke in a smooth whining manner, just like a canting Methodist preacher. The audi- ence seemed to look up to him as to a god. A spirit of the hottest zeal pervaded the whole meeting. I was told afterwards that except myself and the person who accompanied me there was not a single Protestant present. All the speeches turned on the necessity of strain- ing every nerve to make converts to Popery. It is in such a scene that one feels what the Catholics are doing. Most persevering and enthusiastic are they in their work ! Let Protestants look to it. It cheered me much to hear that you continue pretty well. Take every care of yourself. Remember me kindly to Tabby and Martha, also to Mr. Nicholls, and believe me, dear papa, your affectionate daughter. 'C. Bkontb.' ' 112 Gloucester Terrace : ' June 26, 1851. ' Dear Papa, — I have not yet been able to get away from London, but if all be well I shall go to-morrow, stay two days with Mrs. Gas- kell at Manchester, and return home on Monday, 30th, without fail. During this last week or ten days I have seen many things, some of 1851 VISIT TO THE GREAT EXHIBITION 537 To another friend ' she writes — ' Ellen Nussey may have told yon that I have spent a month in London this summer. When you come you shall ask what questions you like on that point, and I will answer to the best of my stammering ability. Do not press me much on the subject of the " Crystal Palace." I went there five times, and certainly saw some interesting things, and the coup d'oeil is striking and bewildering enough; but I never was able to get up any raptures on the subject, and each renewed visit was made under coercion rathan than my own free will. It is an excessively bustling place, and, after all, its wonders appeal too exclusively to the eye and them very interesting, and have also been in much better health than I was during the first fortnight of my stay in London. Sir James and Lady Shuttleworth have really been very kind, and most scrupulously attentive. They desire their regards to you, and send all manner of civil messages. The Marquis of Westminster and the Earl of Biles- mere each sent me an order to see their private collection of pictures, which I enjoyed very much. Mr. Rogers, the patriarch poet, now eighty-seven years old, invited me to breakfast with him. His break- fasts, you must understand, are celebrated throughout Europe for their peculiar refinement and taste. He never admits at that meal more than four persons to his table — himself and three guests. The morn- ing I was there I met Lord Glenelg and Mrs. Davenport, a relation of Lady Shuttleworth's, and a very beautiful and fashionable woman. The visit was very interesting ; I was glad that I had paid it after it was over. An attention that pleased and surprised me more, I think, than aDy other was the circumstance of Sir David Brewster, who is one of the first scientific men of his day, coming to take me over the Crystal Palace and pointing out and explaining the most remarkable curiosi- ties. You will know, dear papa, that I do not mention those things to boast of them, but merely because I think they will give you pleas- ure. Nobody, I find, thinks the worse of me for avoiding publicity and declining to go to large parties, and everybody seems truly courteous and respectful, a mode of behaviour which makes me grate- ful, as it ought to do. Good-bye till Monday. Give my best regards to Mr. Nicholls, Tabby, and Martha, and believe me your affectionate dau S hter ' 'C. Bronte.' 1 This letter was written to Miss Wooler, and is dated Haworth, July 14, 1851. 538 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE rarely touch the heart or head. I make an exception to the last assertion, in favour of those who possess a large range of scientific knowledge. Once I went with Sir David Brewster, and perceived that he looked on objects with other eyes than mine.' Miss Bronte returned from London by Manchester, and paid us a visit of a couple of days at the end of June. The weather was so intensely hot, and she herself so much fa- tigued with her London sight-seeing, that we did little but sib indoors, with open windows, and talk. The only thing she made a point of exerting herself to procure was a pres- ent for Tabby. It was to be a shawl, or rather a large handkerchief, such as she could pin across her neck and shoulders, in the old-fashioned country manner. Miss Bronte took great pains in seeking out one which she thought would please the old woman. On her arrival at home she addressed the following let- ter to the friend with whom she had been staying in Lon- don : — 'Ha worth: July 1, 1851. ' My dear Mrs. Smith, — Once more I am at home, where, I am thankful to say, I found my father very well. The journey to Manchester was a little hot and dusty, but other- wise pleasant enough. The two stout gentlemen who filled a portion of the carriage when I got in quitted it at Rugby, and two other ladies and myself had it to ourselves the rest of the way. The visit to Mrs. G-askell formed a cheering break in the journey. Haworth Parsonage is rather a con- trast ; yet even Haworth Parsonage does not look gloomy in this bright summer weather ; it is somewhat still, but with the windows open I can hear a bird or two singing on certain thorn trees in the garden. My father and the servants think me looking better than when I left home, and I certainly feel better myself for the change. You are too much like your son to render it advisable I should say much about your kindness during my visit. However, one 1851 VISIT TO THE AUTHOR 539 cannot help (like Captain Cuttle) making a note of these matters. Papa says I am to thank you in his name, and offer you his respects, which I do accordingly. — With truest regards to all your circle believe me very sincerely yours, was stimulatingly in- teresting. I long to see you, to get you to say it, and many other things, all over again. My father continues better. I am better too ; but to-day I have a headache again, which will hardly let me write coherently. Give my dear love to Meta and Marianne, dear happy girls as they are. You cannot now transmit my message to Flossy and Julia. I prized the little wild-flower — not that I think the sender cares for me ; she does not, and cannot, sudden seizure, which, without seeming greatly to affect his general health, brought on for a time total blindness. He could not discern between day and night. I feared the optic nerve was paralysed, and that he would never see more. Vision has, however, been partially restored, but it is now very imperfect. He sometimes utters a wish tliat he could see the camp at Cobham, but that would not be possible under present circumstances. I think him very patient with the ap- prehension of what, to him, would be the greatest of privations hang- ing over his head. I can but earnestly hope that what remains of sight may be spared him to the end. ' I trust your mother and sisters are well, and that you have ere now secured assistance and are relieved from some part of your hard work, and consequently that your health and spirits are improved.' 1 Harriet Beecher Stowe (1811-1896) wrote Uncle Tom's Gaiin in 1851. 1853 LETTER TO MRS. GASKELL 629 for she does not know me ; but no matter. In my remi- niscences she is a person of a certain distinction. I think hers a fine little nature, frank and of genuine promise. I often see her, as she appeared, stepping supreme from the portico towards the carriage, that evening we went to see "Twelfth Night." I believe in Julia's future; I like what speaks in her movements, and what is written upon her face.' The following letter was addressed to me soon after my return from a short tour in Normandy : — ' I was glad to get your little note, glad to hear you were at home again. Not that, practically, it makes much differ- ence to me whether you are in Normandy or Manchester : the shorter distance separates perhaps as effectually as the longer, yet there is a mutual comfort in thinking that but thirty miles intervene. ' Come to Haworth as soon as you can ; the heath is in bloom now : I have waited and watched for its purple sig- nal as the forerunner of your coming. It will not be quite faded before the 16th, but after that it will soon grow sere. Be sure to mention the day and hour of your arrival at Keighley. ' My father has passed the summer, not well, yet better than I expected. His chief complaint is of weakness and depressed spirits; the prospect of your visit still affords him pleasure. I am surprised to see how he looks forward to it. My own health has been much better lately. £ I suppose that Meta is ere this returned to school again. This summer's tour will no doubt furnish a life- long remembrance of pleasure to her and Marianne. Great would be the joy of the little ones at seeing you all home 'I saw in the papers the death of Mr. S., of scarlet fever, at his residence in Wales. Was it not there you left Flossy and Julia? This thought recurred to me, with some chill- 630 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE ing fears of what might happen; but I trust that all is safe now. How is poor Mrs. S.? 'Remember me very, very kindly to Mr. Gaskell and the whole circle. Write when you have time ; come at the earliest day, and believe me yours very truthfully. '0. Bronte.' Towards the latter end of September I went to Haworth. At the risk of repeating something which I have previous- ly said I will copy out parts of a letter which I wrote at the time. ' It was a dull, drizzly, Indian-inky day all the way on the railroad to Keighley, which is a rising wool-manufact- uring town, lying in a hollow between hills^-not a pretty hollow, but more what the Yorkshire people call a "bot- tom," or " botham." I left Keighley in a car for Haworth, four miles off — four tough, steep, scrambling miles, the road winding between the wavelike hills that rose and fell on every side of the horizon, with a long, illimitable, sinu- ous look, as if they were a part of the line of the Great Serpent which the Norse legend says girdles the world. The day was lead-coloured ; the road had stone factories alongside of it ; grey, dull-coloured rows of stone cottages belonging to these factories ; and then we came to poor, hungry-looking fields — stone fences everywhere, and trees nowhere. Haworth is a long, straggling village : one steep narrow street — so steep that the flagstones with which it is paved are placed endways, that the horses' feet may have something to cling to, and not slip down backwards, which if . they did they would soon reach Keighley. But if the horses had cats' feet and claws they would do all the better. Well, we (the man, horse, car, and I) clambered up this street, and reached the church dedicated to St. Antest (who was he ?) ;' then we turned off into a lane on the left, 1 Mrs. Gaskell was misinformed as to 'St. Autest.' The church at Haworth is dedicated to St. Michael. It is a perpetual curacy, and the 1853 BIOGRAPHER'S VISIT TO HAWORTH 631 past the curate's lodging at the sexton's, past the school- house, up to the Parsonage yard-door. I went round the house to the front door, looking to the church ; — moors everywhere beyond and above. The crowded graveyard surrounds the house and small grass enclosure for drying ctothes. ' I don't know that I ever saw a spot more exquisitely clean ; the most dainty place for that I ever saw. To be sure the life is like clockwork. No one comes to the house ; nothing disturbs the deep repose ; hardly a voice is heard ; you catch the ticking of the clock in the kitchen, or the buzzing of a fly in the parlour, all over the house. Miss Bronte sits alone in her parlour, breakfasting with her fa- ther in his study at nine o'clock. She helps in the house work ; for one of their servants, Tabby, is nearly ninety, and the other only a girl. Then I accompanied her in her ' walks on the sweeping moors ; the heather bloom had been blighted by a thunderstorm a day or two before, and was all of a livid brown colour, instead of the blaze of purple glory it ought to have been. Oh ! those high, wild, deso- late moors, up above the whole world, and the very realms of silence ! Home to dinner at two. Mr. Bronte has his dinner sent in to him. All the small table arrangements had the same dainty simplicity about them. Then we rested, and talked over the clear bright fire ; it is a cold country, and the fires gave a pretty warm dancing light all over the house. The parlour has been evidently refur- nished within the last few years, since Miss Bronte's success has enabled her to have a little more money to spend. Everything fits into, and is in harmony with, the idea of a net value is stated to be 170Z. per annum. The name of ' Eutest ' is found in a Latin inscription in the tower, but this was probably (J. Horsfall Turner's Haworth, Past and Present) a stonemason's spelling of Bustat, a contraction of Eustatius. On another stone is the inscrip- tion 'Pray for ye Soul of Autest — 600' — probably the rough and ready translation of a seventeenth-century incumbent, ambitious for the antiquity of his church. 632 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE country parsonage, possessed by people of very moderate means. The prevailing colour of the room is crimson, to make a warm setting for the cold grey landscape without. There is her likeness by Richmond, and an engraving from Lawrence's picture of Thackeray ; and two recesses, on each side of the high, narrow, old-fashioned mantelpiece, filled with books — books given to her, books she has bought, and which tell of her individual pursuits and tastes ; not standard books. ' She cannot see well, and does little beside knitting. The way she weakened her eyesight was this : When she was sixteen or seventeen, she wanted much to draw; and she copied nimini-pimini copper-plate engravings out of annuals ("stippling" don't the artists call it?), every little point put in, till at the end of six months she had produced an exquisitely faithful copy of the engraving. She wanted to learn to express her ideas by drawing. After she had tried to draw stories, and not succeeded, she took the bet- ter mode of writing, but in so small a hand that it is al- most impossible to decipher what she wrote at this time. ' But now to return to our quiet hour of rest after din- ner. I soon observed that her habits of order were such that she could not go on with the conversation if a chair was out of its place ; everything was arranged with delicate regularity. We talked overthe old times of her childhood; of her elder sister's (Maria's) death, just like that of Helen Burns in " Jane_Eyre_" — of the desire (almost amounting to illness) of expressing herself in some way, writing or drawing; of her weakened eyesight, which prevented her doing anything for two years, from the age of seventeen to nineteen ; of her being a governess ; of her going to Brussels ; whereupon I said I disliked Lucy Snowe, and we discussed M. Paul Emanuel ; and I told her of 's admiration of " Shirley," which pleased her, for the char- acter of Shirley was meant for her sister Emily, about whom she is never tired of talking, nor I of listening. Emily must have been a remnant of the Titans, great- 1853 VISIT TO HAWORTH 633 granddaughter of the giants who used to inhabit the earth. One day Miss Bronte brought down a rough, common-look- ing oil painting, done by her brother, of herself — a little rather prim-looking girl of eighteen — and the two other sisters, girls of sixteen and fourteen, with cropped hair, and sad dreamy-looking eyes. . . . Emily had a great dog — half mastiff, half bulldog — so savage, &c. . . . This dog went to her funeral, walking side by side with her father ; and then, to the day of its death, it slept at her room door, snuffing under it, and whining every morning. ' We have generally had another walk before tea, which is at six ; at half-past eight prayers ; and by nine all the household are in bed, except ourselves. We sit up together till ten, or past ; and after I go I hear Miss Bronte come down and walk up and down the room for an hour or so.' Copying this letter has brought the days of that pleasant visit very clear before me — very sad in their clearness. We were so happy together ; we were so full of interest in each other's subjects. The day seemed only too short for what we had to say and to hear. I understood her life the better for seeing the place where it had been spent — where she had loved and suffered. Mr. Bronte was a most cour- teous host; and when he was with us — at breakfast in his study, or at tea in Charlotte's parlour — he had a sort of grand and stately way of describing past times, which tal- lied well with his striking appearance. He never seemed quite to have lost the feeling that Charlotte was a child to be guided and ruled, when she was present ; and she her- self submitted to this with a quiet docility that half amused, half astonished me. But when she had to leave the room then all his pride in her genius and fame came out. He eagerly listened to everything I could tell him of the high admiration I had at any time heard expressed for her works. He would ask for certain speeches over and over again, as if he desired to impress them on his memory. 634 LIFE OF CHAELOTTE BRONTE I remember two or three subjects of the conversations which she and I held in the evenings, besides those alluded to in my letter. I asked her whether she had ever taken opium, as the description given of its effects in 'Villette' was so exactly like what I had experienced — vivid and exaggerated pres- ence of objects, of which the outlines were indistinct or lost in golden mist, &c. She replied that she had never, to her knowledge, taken a grain of it in any shape, but that she had followed the process she always adopted when she had to describe anything which had not fallen within her own experience ; she had thought intently on it for many and many a night before falling to sleep — wondering what it was like, or how it would be — till at length, sometimes after the progress of her story had been arrested at this one point for weeks, she wakened up in the morning with all clear before her, as if she had in reality gone through the ex- perience, and then could describe it, word for word, as it had happened. I cannot account for this psychologically ; I only am sure that it was so, because she said it. ■ She made many inquiries as to Mrs. Stowe's personal appearance ; and it evidently harmonised well with some theory of hers to hear that the author of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' was small and slight. It was another of her theories that no mixtures of blood produce such fine characters, mentally and morally, as the Scottish and English. I recollect, too, her saying how acutely she dreaded a charge of plagiarism when, after she had written - Jane Eyre,' she read the thrilling effect of the mysterious scream at midnight in Mrs. Marsh's ' story of the ' Deformed.' She 1 Mrs. Marsh (1799-1874), whose maiden name was Anne Caldwell, wrote many novels and some historical works. Of Mordaunt Hall the Sun of 1849 wrote that it was ' the most beautiful of many beautiful tales yet written by its author. It fascinates the attention of the reader like Scott's never to be forgotten story of Lucy Ashton;' and the Spec- tator wrote of Norman's Bridge that it ' surpasses anything that this writer — or perhaps any other writer — has done, if we except Godwin's chef-d'cBuwe.' 1853 REMINISCENCES OF CONVERSATIONS 635 also said that, when she read the 'Neighbours/ she thought every one would fancy that she must have taken her con- ception of Jane Eyre's character from that of 'Francesca,' the narrator of Miss Bremer's story. For my own part, I cannot see the slightest resemblance between the two char- acters, and so I told her ; but she persisted in saying that Francesca was Jane Eyre married to a good-natured 'Bear' of a Swedish surgeon. We went, not purposely, but accidentally, to see various poor people in our distant walks. From one we had bor- rowed an umbrella ; in the house of another we had taken shelter from a rough September storm. In all these cot- tages her quiet presence was known. At three miles from her home the chair was dusted for her, with a kindly ' Sit ye down, Miss Bronte ;' and she knew what absent or ailing members of the family to inquire after. Her quiet, gentle words, few though they might be, were evidently grateful to those Yorkshire ears. Their welcome to her, though rough and curt, was sincere and hearty. We talked about the different courses through which life ran. She said in her own composed manner, as if she had accepted the theory as a fact, that she believed some were appointed beforehand to sorrow and much disappointment ; that it did not fall to the lot of all — as Scripture told us — to have their lines fall in pleasant places ; that it was well for those who had rougher paths to perceive that such was God's will concerning them, and try to moderate their ex- pectations, leaving hope to those of a different doom, and seeking patience and resignation as the virtues they were to cultivate. I took a different view : I thought that hu- man lots were more equal than she imagined ; that to some happiness and sorrow came in strong patches of light and shadow (so to speak), while in the lives of others they were pretty equally blended throughout. She smiled, and shook her head, and said she was trying to school herself against ever anticipating any pleasure ; that it was better to be brave and submit faithfully ; there was some good reason, which 636 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE we should know in time, why sorrow and disappointment were to be the lot of some on earth. It was better to ac- knowledge this, and face out the truth in a religious faith. In connection with this conversation she named a little abortive plan which I had not heard of till then ; how, in the previous July, she had been tempted to join some friends (a married couple and their child) in an excursion to Scot- land. They set out joyfully ; she with special gladness, for Scotland was a land which had its roots deep down in her imaginative affections, and the glimpse of two days at Ed- inburgh was all she had yet seen of it. But, at the first stage after Carlisle, the little yearling child was taken with a slight indisposition ; the anxious parents fancied that strange diet had disagreed with it, and hurried back to their Yorkshire home as eagerly as, two or three days be- fore, they had set their faces northward in hopes of a month's pleasant ramble. We parted with many intentions, on both sides, of renew- ing very frequently the pleasure we had had in being to- gether. We agreed that when she wanted bustle, or when I wanted quiet, we were to let each other know, and ex- change visits as occasion required. I was aware that she had a great anxiety on her mind at this time ; and being acquainted with its nature, I could not but deeply admire the patient docility which she dis- played in her conduct towards her father. Soon after I left Haworth she went on a visit to Miss Wooler, who was then staying at Hornsea. The time passed quietly and happily with this friend, whose society was endeared to her by every year. TO MISS WOOLER. ' December 12, 1853. ■ I wonder how you are spending these long winter even- ings. Alone, probably, like me. The thought often crosses me, as I sit by myself, how pleasant it would be if you lived within a walking distance, and I could go to you 1854 LETTER TO MR. DOBELL ON 'BALDER' 637 sometimes, or have yon to come and spend a day and night with me. Yes ; I did enjoy that week at Hornsea, and I look forward to spring as the period when you will fulfil your promise of coming to visit me. I fear yon must be very solitary at Hornsea. How hard to some people of the world it would seem to live your life ! how utterly impos- sible to live it with a serene spirit and an unsoured disposi- tion ! It seems wonderful to me, because you are not, like Mrs. R , phlegmatic and impenetrable, but received from nature feelings of the very finest edge. Such feel- ings, when they are locked up, sometimes damage the mind and temper. They don't with you. It must be partly principle, partly self-discipline, which keeps you as you are/ Of course, as I draw nearer to the years so recently closed, it becomes impossible for me to write with the same fulness of detail as I have hitherto not felt it wrong to use. Miss Bronte passed the winter of 1853-4 in a solitary and anxious manner. But the great conqueror Time was slowly achieving his victory over strong preju- dice and human resolve. By degrees Mr. Bronte became reconciled to the idea of his daughter's marriage. There is one other letter — addressed to Mr. Dobell — which develops the intellectual side of her character, be- fore we lose all thought of the authoress in the timid and conscientious woman about to become a wife, and in the too short, almost perfect, happiness of her nine months of wedded life. 4 Haworth, near Keighley • ' February 3, 1854. ' My dear Sir, — I can hardly tell you how glad I am to have an opportunity of explaining that taciturnity to which you allude. Your letter came at a period of danger and care, when my father was very ill, and I could not leave his bedside. I answered no letters at that time, and yours was one of three or four that, when leisure returned to 638 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE me, and I came to consider their purport, it seemed to me that the time was past for answering them, and I laid them finally aside. If you remember, yon asked me to go to London ; it was too late either to go or to decline. I was sure you had left London. One circumstance you mentioned — your wife's illness — which I have thought of many a time, and wondered whether she is better. In your present note you do not refer to her, but I trust her health has long ere now been quite restored. ' " Balder " ' arrived safely. I looked at him, before cutting his leaves, with singular pleasure. Remembering well his elder brother, the potent " Roman," it was natural to give a cordial welcome to a fresh scion of the same house and race. I have read him. He impresses me thus : He teems with power ; I found in him a wild wealth of life, but I thought his favourite and favoured child would bring his sire trouble — would make his heart ache. It seemed to me that his strength and beauty were not so much those of Joseph, the pillar of Jacob's age, as of the Prodigal Son, who troubled his father, though he always kept his love. ' How is it that while the first - born of genius often brings honour the second almost as often proves a source of depression and care ? I could almost prophesy that your third will atone for any anxiety inflicted by this his imme- diate predecessor. ' There is power in that character of " Balder," and to me a certain horror. Hid you mean it to embody, along with force, any of the special defects of the artistic char- acter ? It seems to me that those defects were never 1 Sydney Dobell's Balder, published in 1853, was, writes Professor Nichol in the Dictionary of National Biograpliy, 'with the general public and the majority of critics less fortunate than The Soman. It is harder to read, as it was harder to write . . . but it exhibits the highest flights of the author's imagination and his finest pictures of Nature. The descriptions of Chamouni, of the Coliseum, of spring, and of the summer's day on the hill almost sustain the comparisons which they provoke.' 1854 LETTER TO MR. DOBELL ON 'BALDER' 639 thrown out in stronger lines. I did not and could not think you meant to offer him as your cherished ideal of the true great poet ; I regard him as a vividly coloured picture of inflated self-esteem, almost frantic aspiration ; of a nature that has made a Moloch of intellect — offered up, in pagan fires, the natural affections — sacrificed the heart to the brain. Do we not all know that true great- ness is simple, self -oblivious, prone to unambitious, un- selfish attachments ? I am certain you feel this truth in your heart of hearts. ' But if the critics err now (as yet I have seen none of their lucubrations) you shall one day set them right in the second part of " Balder." You shall show them that you too know — better, perhaps than they — that the truly great man is too sincere in his affections to grudge a sacrifice ; too much absorbed in his work to talk loudly about it ; too intent on finding the best way to accomplish what he un- dertakes to think great things of himself — the instrument. And if God places seeming impediments in his way — if his duties sometimes seem to hamper his powers — he feels keenly, perhaps writhes under, the slow torture of hin- drance and delay ; but if there be a true man's heart in his breast he can bear, submit, wait patiently. ' Whoever speaks to me of " Balder " — though I live too retired a life to come often in the way of comment — shall be answered according to your suggestion and my own im- pression. Equity demands that you should be your own interpreter. Good-bye for the present, and believe me, faithfully and gratefully, Charlotte Bkonte.' A letter to her Brussels schoolfellow 1 gives an idea of the external course of things during this winter. ' March 8. ' I was very glad to see your handwriting again. It is, I believe, a year since I heard from you. Again and again 1 Lsetitia Wheelwright. 640 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE you have recurred to my thoughts lately, and I was be- ginning to have some sad presages as to the cause of your silence. Your letter happily does away with all these ; it brings, on the whole, glad tidings both of your papa, mamma, your sisters, and, last but not least, your dear respected English self. c My dear father has borne the severe winter very well, a circumstance for which I feel the more thankful as he had many weeks of very precarious health last summer, follow- ing an attack from which he suffered in June, and which for a few hours deprived him totally of sight, though neither his mind, speech, nor even his powers of motion, were in the least affected. I can hardly tell you how thankful I was when, after that dreary and almost despairing interval of utter darkness, some gleam of daylight became visible to him once more. I had feared that paralysis had seized the optic nerve. A sort of mist remained for a long time ; and, indeed, his vision is not yet perfectly clear, but he can read, write, and walk about, and he preaches twice every Sunday, the curate only reading the prayers. You can well understand how earnestly I wish and pray that sight may be spared him to the end ; he so dreads the privation of blindness. His mind is just as strong and active as ever, and politics interest him as they do your papa. The Czar, the war, the alliance between France and England — into all these things he throws himself heart and soul ; they seem to carry him back to his comparatively young days, and to renew the excitement of the last great European struggle. Of course my father's sympathies (and mine too) are all with Justice and Europe against Tyranny and Russia. ' Circumstanced as I have been, you will comprehend that I have had neither the leisure nor the inclination to go from home much during the past year. I spent a week with Mrs. Gaskell in the spring, and a fortnight with some other friends more recently, and that includes the whole of my visiting since I saw you last. My life is, indeed, very uni- 1854 HER ENGAGEMENT 641 form and retired — more so than is quite healthful either for mind or body : yet I find reason for often-renewed feel- ings of gratitude, in the sort of support which still comes and cheers me on from time to time. My health, though not unbroken, is, I sometimes fancy, rather stronger on the whole than it was three years ago : headache and dyspepsia are my worst ailments. Whether I shall come up to town this season for a few days I do not yet know ; but if I do I shall hope to call in Phillimore Place.' In April she communicated the fact of her engagement to Miss Wooler. 'Haworth: April 12. ' My dear Miss Wooler, — The truly kind interest which you have always taken in my affairs makes me feel that it is due to you to transmit an early communication on a subject respecting which I have already consulted you more than once. I must tell you then that since I wrote last papa's mind has gradually come round to a view very different to that which he once took ; and that after some correspondence, and as the result of a visit Mr. Nicholls paid here about a week ago, it was agreed that he was to resume the curacy of Haworth, as soon as pa- pa's present assistant is provided with a situation, and in due course of time he is to be received as an inmate into this house. 'It gives me unspeakable content to see that now my father has once admitted this new view of the case he dwells on it very complacently. In all arrangements his convenience and seclusion will be scrupulously respected. Mr. Nicholls seems deeply to feel the wish to comfort and sustain his declining years. I think from Mr. Nicholls's character I may depend on this not being a mere transitory, impulsive feeling, but rather that it will be accepted steadi- ly as a duty, and discharged tenderly as an office of affec- tion. The destiny which Providence in His goodness and wisdom seems to offer me will not, I am aware, be gen- 41 642 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE erally regarded as brilliant, but I trust I see in it some germs of real happiness. I trust the demands of both feeling and duty will be in some measure reconciled by the step in contemplation. It is Mr. Mcholls's wish that the marriage should take place this summer ; he urges the month of July, but that seems very soon. 'When you write to me, tell me how you are. ... I have now decidedly declined the visit to London ; the en- suing three months will bring me abundance of occupation ; I could not afford to throw away a month. . . . Papa has just got a letter from the good and dear Bishop, which has touched and pleased us much ; it expresses so cordial an approbation of Mr. Nicholls's return to Haworth (respect- ing which he was consulted), and such kind gratification at the domestic arrangements which are to ensue. It seems his penetration discovered the state of things when he was here in June, 1853.' She expressed herself in other letters as thankful to One who had guided her through much difficulty and much dis- tress and perplexity of mind ; and yet she felt what most thoughtful women do who marry when the first flush of careless youth is over, that there was a strange, half -sad feeling in making announcements of an engagement — for cares and fears came mingled inextricably with hopes. One great relief to her mind at this time was derived from the conviction that her father took a positive pleasure in all the thoughts about and preparations for her wedding. He was anxious that things should be expedited, and was much interested in every preliminary arrangement for the recep- tion of Mr. Nlcholls into the Parsonage as his daughter's husband. This step was rendered necessary by Mr. Bronte's great age and failing sight, which made it a paramount obligation on so dutiful a daughter as Charlotte to devote as much time and assistance as ever in attending to his wants. Mr. Nicholls, too, hoped that he might be able to add some comfort and pleasure by his ready presence on a. a jt*/*^> : Zfr,>/>, a/i/ie(lyt"/iJ> >»""<* ?<-?6/ . 1854 PREPAKATIONS FOR HER MARRIAGE 643 any occasion when the old clergyman might need his ser- vices. 1 At the beginning of May Miss Bronte left home to pay three visits before her marriage. The first was to ns. She 1 The following letter to Mr. George Smith is dated April 25, 1854. Mrs. Richmond Ritchie, the daughter of Thackeray, recalls that Mr. George Smith read it to her father when she — then a very little girl — was present: — 'Thank you for your congratulations and good wishes ; if these last are realised but in part, I shall be very thankful. It gave me also sin- cere pleasure to be assured of your own happiness, though of that I never doubted. I have faith also in its permanent character, provided Mrs. George Smith is what it pleases me to fancy her to be. You never told me any particulars about her, though I should have liked them much, but did not like to ask questions, knowing how much your mind and time would be engaged. What / have to say is soon told. ' The step in contemplation is no hasty one ; on the gentleman's side at least it has been meditated for many years, and I hope that in at last acceding to it I am acting right; it is what I earnestly wish to do. My future husband is a clergyman. He was for eight years my father's curate. He left because the idea of this marriage was not entertained as he wished. His departure was regarded by the parish as a calam- ity, for he had devoted himself to his duties with no ordinary dili- gence. Various circumstances have led my father to consent to his return, nor can I deny that my own feelings have been much im- pressed and changed by the nature and strength of the qualities brought out in the course of his long attachment. I fear I must ac- cuse myself of having formerly done him less than justice. However he is to come back now. He has foregone many chances of prefer- ment to return to the obscure village of Haworth. I believe I do right in marrying him. I mean to try to make him a good wife. There has been heavy anxiety, but I begin to hope all will end for the best. My expectations, however, are very subdued — very different, I dare say, to what yours were before you were married. Care and Fear stand so close to Hope I sometimes scarcely can see her for the shadow they cast. And yet I am thankful too, and the doubtful future must be left with Providence. ' On one feature in the marriage I can dwell with unmingled satis- faction, with a certainty of being right. It takes nothing from the at- tention I owe to my father. I am not to leave him ; my future hus- band consents to come here ; thus papa secures by the step a devoted 644 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE only remained three days, as she had to go to the neighbour- hood of Leeds, there to make such purchases as were re- quired for her marriage. Her preparations, as she said, could neither be expensive nor extensive, consisting chieflj in a modest replenishing of her wardrobe, some repapering and repainting in the Parsonage, and, above all, converting the small flagged passage room, hitherto used only for stores (which was behind her sitting-room), into a study for hei husband. On this idea, and plans for his comfort, as well as her father's, her mind dwelt a good deal ; and we talked them over with the same unwearying happiness which, I suppose, all women feel in such discussions, especially when money considerations call for that kind of contrivance which Charles Lamb speaks of in his 'Essay on Old China' as forming so great an addition to the pleasure of obtain- ing a thing at last. 'Haworth: May 22. ' Since I came home I have been very busy stitching ; the little new room is got into order, and the green and white curtains are up ; they exactly suit the papering, and look neat and clean enough. I had a letter a day or two since announcing that Mr. Nicholls comes to-morrow. I feel anxious about him ; more anxious on one point than I dare quite express to myself. It seems he has again been suffering sharply from his rheumatic affection. I hear this not from himself, but from another quarter. He was ill while I was in Manchester and Brookroyd. He uttered no complaint to me ; dropped no hint on the subject. Alas ! he was hoping he had got the better of it, and I know how this contradiction of his hopes will sadden him. For un- selfish reasons he did so earnestly wish this complaint and reliable assistant in his old age. There can, of course, be no rea- son for withholding the intelligence from your mother and sisters; remember me kindly to them whenever you write. ' I hardly know in what form of greeting to include your wife's name, as I have never seen her ; say to her whatever may seem to you most appropriate and most expressive of goodwill.' 1854 PREPARATIONS FOR HER MARRIAGE 645 might not become chronic. I fear— I fear; 1 but if he is doomed to suffer so much the more will he need care and help. Well ! come what may, God help and strengthen both him and me ! I look forward to to-morrow with a mixture of impatience and anxiety.' Mr. Bronte' had a slight illness, which alarmed her much. Besides, all the weight of care involved in the household preparations pressed on the bride in this case — not un- pleasantly, only to the full occupation of her time. She was too busy to unpack her wedding dresses for several days after they arrived from Halifax ; yet not too busy to think of arrangements by which Miss Wooler's journey to be present at the marriage could be facilitated. ' I write to Miss Wooler to-day. Would it not be better, dear, 2 if you and she could arrange to come to Haworth on the same day, arrrive at Keighley by the same train ? Then I could, order the cab to meet you at the station, and bring you on with your luggage. In this hot weather walking would be quite out of the question, either for you or for her ; and I know she would persist in doing it if left to herself, and arrive half killed. I thought it better to mention this arrangement to you first, and then, if you liked it, you could settle the time, &c, with Miss Wooler, and let me know. Be sure and give me timely information, that I may write to the Devonshire Arms about the cab. 'Mr. Nicholls is a kind, considerate fellow. With all his masculine faults he enters into my wishes about having the thing done quietly, in a way that makes me grateful ; and if nobody interferes and spoils his arrangements he will manage it so that not a soul in Haworth shall be aware of 1 A passage omitted by Mrs. Gaskell runs — 'But, however, I mean to stand by him now, whether in weal or woe. This liability to rheumatic pain was one of the strong arguments used against the marriage. It did not weigh somehow. If he is doomed to suffer,' &c. ! Miss Ellen Nussey. The letter is dated June 16, 1854. 646 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE the day. He is so thoughtful, too, about "the ladies" — that is, you and Miss Wooler. Anticipating, too, the Yery arrangements I was going to propose to him about provid- ing for your departure, &c. He and Mr. Sowden 1 come to Mr. Grant's the evening before ; write me a note to let me know they are there; precisely at eight in the morning they will be in the church, and there we are to meet them. Mr. and Mrs. Grant are asked to the breakfast, not to the cere- mony.' It was fixed that the marriage was to take place on June 29. Her two friends arrived at Haworth Parsonage the day before ; and the long summer afternoon and evening were spent by Charlotte in thoughtful arrangements for the morrow, and for her father's comfort during her ab- sence from home. When all was finished — the trunk packed, the morning's breakfast arranged, the wedding dress laid out — just at bedtime, Mr. Bronte announced his intention of stopping at home while the others went to church. What was to be done ? Who was to give the bride away ? There were only to be the officiating clergy- man, the bride and bridegroom, the bridesmaid, and Miss Wooler present. The Prayer Book was referred to, and there it was seen that the rubric enjoins that the minister shall receive 'the woman from her father's or friend's hand,' and thab nothing is specified as to the sex of the friend. So Miss Wooler, ever kind in^emergency, volun- teered to give her old pupil away. The news of the wedding had slipt abroad before the little party came out of church, and many old and humble friends were there, seeing her look ' like a snowdrop,' as they say. Her dress was white embroidered muslin, with a 1 The Rev. Sutcliffe Sowden, who performed the marriage ceremony for Charlotte Bronte and Mr. Nicholls, has been dead for many years now. He and his brother the Rev. George Sowden (1823-1899), canon of Wakefield Cathedral and vicar of Hebden Bridge, Yorks, were the most intimate friends of Mr. Nicholls at the time of his marriage. 1854 WEDDED HAPPINESS 647 lace mantle, and white bonnet trimmed with green leaves, which perhaps might suggest the resemblance to the pale wintry flower. Mr. Nicholls and she went to visit his friends and rela- tions in Ireland ; and made a tour by Killarney, Glengariff, Tarbert, Tralee, and Cork, seeing scenery of which she says, ' Some parts exceeded all I had ever imagined. ... I must say I like my new relations. My dear husband, too, ap- pears in a new light in his own country. More than once I have had deep pleasure in hearing his praises on all sides. Some of the old servants and followers of the family tell me I am a most fortunate person ; for that I have got one of the best gentlemen in the country. ... I trust I feel thankful to God for having enabled me to make what seems a right choice ; and I pray to be enabled to repay as I ought the affectionate devotion of a truthful, honour- able man.' Henceforward the sacred doors of home are closed upon her married life. We, her loving friends, standing out- side, caught occasional glimpses of brightness, and pleas- ant, peaceful murmurs of sound, telling of the gladness within ; and we looked at each other, and gently said, 'After a hard and long struggle — after many cares and many bitter sorrows — she is tasting happiness now !' We thought of the slight astringencies of her character, and how they would turn to full ripe sweetness in that calm sunshine of domestic peace. We remembered her trials, and were glad in the idea that God had seen fit to wipe away the tears from her eyes. Those who saw her saw an outward change in her look, telling of inward things. And we thought, and we hoped, and we prophesied, in our great love and reverence. 1 1 Mr. Nicholls repudiates a statement that has received currency to the effect that he discouraged his wife's literary activities. He recalls that she sat with him one evening at Haworth, and as they read to- gether the opening chapter of a new novel they chatted pleasantly over the possible development of the plot. 648 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE But God's ways are not as oar ways ! Hear some of the low murmurs of happiness we, who listened, heard: 1 — ' I really seem to have had scarcely a spare moment since that dim, quiet June morning when you, Ellen, and my- self all walked down to Haworth Church. Wot that I have been wearied or oppressed ; but the fact is my time is not my own now ; somebody else wants a good portion of it, and says, " We mast do so and so." We do so and so, ac- cordingly ; and it generally seems the right thing. . . . We have had many callers from a distance, and latterly some little occupation in the way of preparing for a small village entertainment. Both Mr. Nicholls and myself wish- ed much to make some response for the hearty welcome and general goodwill shown by the parishioners on his re- turn ; accordingly the Sunday and day scholars and teach- ers, the church ringers, singers, &c, to the number of five hundred, were asked to tea and supper in the schoolroom. They seemed to enjoy it much, and it was very pleasant to see their happiness. One of the villagers, in proposing my husband's health, described him as a " consistent Cliristiah and a kind gentleman." I own the words touched me deeply, and I thought (as I know you would have thought had you been present) that to merit and win such a char- acter was better than to earn either wealth, or fame, or power. I am disposed to echo that high but simple eulo- gium. . . . My dear father was not well when we returned from Ireland. I am, however, most thankful to say that he is better now. May God preserve him to us yet for some years ! The wish for his continued life, together with a certain solicitude for his happiness and health, seems, I scarcely know why, even stronger in me now than before I was married. Papa has taken no duty since we returned ; and each time I see Mr. Nicholls put on gown 1 Letter to Miss Wooler. 1854 HAPPY MARRIED LIFE 649 or surplice I feel comforted to think that this marriage has secured papa good aid in his old age.' ' September 19. 'Yes ! I am thankful to say my husband is in improved health and spirits. It makes me content and grateful to hear him from time to time avow his happiness in the brief, plain phrase of sincerity. My own life is more occupied than it used to be : I have not so much time for thinking: I am obliged to be more practical, for my dear Arthur is a very practical as well as a very punctual and methodical man. Every morning he is in the National School by nine o'clock; he gives the children religious instruction till half- past ten. Almost every afternoon he pays visits amongst the poor parishioners. Of course he often finds a little work for his wife to do, and I hope she is not sorry to help him. I believe it is not bad for me that his bent should be so wholly towards matters of life and active usefulness, so little inclined to the literary and contemplative. As to his continued • affection and kind attentions, it does not become me to say much of them ; but they neither change nor diminish.' Her friend and bridesmaid came to pay them a visit in October. I was to have gone also, but I allowed some little obstacle to intervene to my lasting regret. ' I say nothing about the war ; but when I read of its horrors I cannot help thinking that it is one of the great- est curses that ever fell upon mankind. I trust it may not last long, for it really seems to me that no glory to be gained can compensate for the sufferings which must be endured. This may seem a little ignoble and unpatriotic ; but I think that as we advance towards middle age noble- ness and patriotism have a different signification to us to that which we accept while young. ' You kindly inquire after papa. He is better, and seems to gain strength as the weather gets colder ; indeed, of late 650 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE years his health has always been better in winter than in summer. We are all indeed pretty well ; and, for my own part, it is long since I have known such comparative im- munity from headache, &c, as during the last three months. My life is different from what it used to be. May God make me thankful for it ! I have a good, kind, attached husband, and every day my own attachment to him grows stronger.' Late in the autumn Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth crossed the border hills that separate Lancashire from Yorkshire, and spent two or three days with them. About this time Mr. Nicholls was offered a living of much greater value than his curacy at Haworth, 1 and in many ways the proposal was a very advantageous one, but he felt himself bound to Haworth as long as Mr. Bronte lived. Still, this offer gave his wife great and true pleasure, as a proof of the respect in which her husband was held. ' November 39. ' I intended to have written a line yesterday, but just as I was sitting down for the purpose Arthur called to me to take a walk. We set off, not intending to go far ; but, though wild and cloudy, it was fair in the morning ; when we had got about half a mile on the moors Arthur sug- gested the idea of the waterfall ; after the melted snow, he said, it would be fine. I had often wished to see it in its winter power ; so we walked on. It was fine indeed ; a perfect torrent racing over the rocks, white and beautiful ! It began to rain while we were watching it, and we returned home under a streaming sky. However I enjoyed the walk inexpressibly, and would not have missed the spectacle on any account.' She did not achieve this walk of seven or eight miles in such weather with impunity. She began to shiver soon after her return home, in spite of every precaution, and 1 At Padiham, near Gawthorpe, in the gift of Sir J. Kay-Shuttle- worth. 1855 HER LAST ILLNESS 651 had a bad, lingering sore throat and cold, which hung about her and made her thin and weak. 'Did I tell you that our poor little Flossy is dead ? She drooped for a single day, and died quietly in the night without pain. The loss even of a dog was very saddening ; yet, perhaps, no dog ever had a happier life or an easier death.' On Christmas Day she and her husband walked to the poor old woman whose calf she had been set to seek in former and less happy days, carrying with them a great spice cake to make glad her heart. On Christmas Day many a humble meal in Haworth was made more plentiful by her gifts. Earlyin the new year (1855) Mr. and Mrs. Nicholls went to visit Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth at Gawthorpe. They only remained two or three days, but it so fell out that she increased her lingering cold by a long walk over damp ground in thin shoes. Soon after her return she was attacked by new sensations of perpetual nausea and ever recurring faintness. After this state of things had lasted for some time she yielded to Mr. Mcholls's wish that a doctor should be sent for. He came, and assigned a natural cause for her miserable indis- position ; a little patience and all would go right. She, who was ever patient in illness, tried hard to bear up and bear on. But the dreadful sickness increased and in- creased, till the very sight of food occasioned nausea. ' A wren would have starved on what she ate during those last six weeks,' says one. Tabby's health had suddenly and ut- terly given way, and she died in this time of distress and anxiety respecting the last daughter of the house she had served so long. Martha tenderly waited on her mistress, and from time to time tried to cheer her with the thought of the baby that was coming. ' I dare say I shall be glad some time,' she would say ; ' but I am so ill— so weary ' Then she took to her bed, too weak to sit up. From that Is is 652 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE last conch she wrote two notes in pencil. The first, which has no date, is addressed to her own ' Dear Nell." 'I must write one line out of my dreary bed. The news of Mercy's probable recovery came like a ray of joy to me. I am not going to talk of my sufferings ; it would be use- less and painful. I want to give you an assurance which I know will comfort you, and that is that I find in my hus- band the tenderest nurse, the kindest support, the best earthly comfort that ever woman had. His patience never fails, and it is tried by sad days and broken nights. Write and tell me about Mrs. 's case ; how long was she ill, and in what way ? Papa — thank God !— is better. Our poor old Tabby is dead and buried. Give my kind love to Miss Wooler. May God comfort and help you ! ' C. B. Nicholls.' The other — also in faint, faint pencil marks — was to her Brussels schoolfellow. 'February 15. 'A few lines of acknowledgment your letter shall have, whether well or ill. At present I am confined to my bed with illness, and have been so for three weeks. Up to this period, since my marriage, I have had excellent health. My husband and I live at home with my father ; of course I could not leave him. He is pretty well, better than last summer. No kinder, better husband than mine, it seems to me, there can be in the world. I do not want now for kind companionship in health and the tenderest nursing in sickness. Deeply I sympathise in all you tell me about Dr. W. and your excellent mother's anxiety. I trust he will not risk another operation. I cannot write more now ; for I am much reduced and very weak. Good bless you all ! — Yours affectionately, C. B. Nicholls.' 1 There were actually three pencil notes, two to Miss Nussey and one to Miss Wheelwright. The late Miss Nussey's letters are in the Bronte Museum at Haworth. Miss "Wheelwright's pencilled letter, and a few of the others that Miss Bronte addressed to her, are still in her possession. 1855 HER LAST ILLNESS 653 I do not think she ever wrote a line again. 1 Long days and longer nights went by ; still the same relentless nausea and faintness, and still borne on in patient trust. About the third week in March there was a change ; a low, wan- dering delirium came on ; and in it she begged constantly for food and even for stimulants. She swallowed eagerly now ; but it was too late. Wakening for an instant from this stupor of intelligence, she saw her husband's woe- worn face, and caught the sound of some murmured words of prayer that God would spare her. ' Oh!' she whispered forth, ' I am not going to die, am I ? He will not separate us, we have been so happy.' Early on Saturday morning, March 31, the solemn toll- ing of Haworth church bell spoke forth the fact of her death to the villagers who had known her from a child, and whose hearts shivered within them as they thought of the two sitting desolate and alone in the old grey house. 1 This letter to Miss Nussey would seem to have been written a lit- tle later. It is not dated, but it is printed later in the privately issued volume of letters to which reference has been made else- where : — ' My dear Ellen, — Thank you very much for Mrs. Hewitt's sensible, clear letter. Thank her too. In much her case was wonderfully like mine, but I am reduced to greater weakness ; the skeleton emaciation is the same. I cannot talk. Even to my dear, patient, constant Arthur I can. say but few words at once. ' These last two days I have been somewhat better, and have taken some beef-tea, a spoonful of wine and water, a mouthful of light pud- ding at different times. ' Dear Ellen, I realise full well what you have gone through and will have to go through with poor Mercy. Oh, may you continue to be supported and not sink ! Sickness here has been terribly rife. Kindest regards to Mr. and Mrs. Clapham, your mother, Mercy. Write when you can. — Yours, ' 0. B. Nicholls.' CHAPTER XXVIII I have always been much struck with a passage in Mr. Forster's 'Life of Goldsmith/ 1 Speaking of the scene after his death, the writer says — ' The staircase of Brick Court is said to have been filled with mourners, the reverse of domestic ; women without a home, without domesticity of any kind, with no friend but him they had come to weep for ; outcasts of that great soli- tary wicked city, to whom he had never forgotten to be kind and charitable.' This came into my mind when I heard of some of the circumstances attendant on Charlotte's funeral. Pew beyond that circle of hills knew that she, whom the nations praised far off, lay dead that Easter morning. Of kith and kin she had more in the grave to which she was soon to be borne than among the living. The two mourn- ers, stunned with their great grief, desired not the sym- pathy of strangers." One member out of most of the 1 John Forster (1812-1876) wrote his Life of Goldsmith in 1848. 2 Mr. Bronte wrote to Mr. George Smith as follows : — 'Haworth, near Keighley: ' April 20, 1855. * My dear Sir, — I thank you for your kind sympathy. Having heard my dear daughter speak bo much about you and your family, your letter seemed to be one from an old friend. Her husband's sorrow and mine is indeed very great. We mourn the loss of one whose like we hope not ever to see again, and, as you justly state, we do not mourn alone. That you may never experimentally know sorrow such 1855 MOURNERS AT HER FUNERAL 655 families in the parish was bidden to the funeral ; and it be- came an act of self-denial in many a poor household to give up to another the privilege of paying their last homage to her ; and those who were excluded from the formal train of mourners thronged the churchyard and church, to see carried forth and laid beside her own people, her whom, not many months ago, they had looked at as a pale white bride, entering on a new life with trembling happy hope. Among those humble friends who passionately grieved over the dead was a village girl that had been betrayed some little time before, but who had found a holy sister in Charlotte. She had sheltered her with her help, her coun- sel, her strengthening words ; had ministered to her needs in her time of trial. Bitter, bitter was the grief of this poor young woman, when she heard that her friend was sick unto death, and deep is her mourning until this day. A blind girl, living some four miles from Haworth, loved Mrs. Nicholls so dearly that, with many cries and entreaties, she implored those about her to lead her along the roads, and over the moor paths, that she might hear the last sol- emn words, ' Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust ; in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ. 5 Such were the mourners over Charlotte Bronte's grave. I have little more to say. If my readers find that I have not said enough, I have said too much. I cannot measure or judge of such a character as hers. I cannot map out vices, and virtues, and debatable land. One who knew her long and well — the ' Mary' of this Life — writes thus of her as ours, and that when trouble does come you may receive due aid from Heaven, is the sincere wish and ardent prayer of ' Tours very respectfully and truly, — 'P. Bbontb. 'To ' George Smith, Esq., ' 65 Gornhill, London." 656 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BEONTE dead friend : ' She thought much of her duty, and had loftier and clearer notions of it than most people, and held fast to them with more success. It was done, it seems to me, with much more difficulty than people have of stronger nerves and better fortunes. All her life was but labour and pain; and she never threw down the burden for the sake of present pleasure. I don't know what use you can make of all I have said. I have written it with the strong desire to obtain appreciation for her. Yet what does it matter ? She herself appealed to the world's judg- ment for her use of some of the faculties she had — not the best, but still the only ones she could turn to stran- gers' benefit. They heartily, greedily enjoyed the fruits of her labours, and then found out she was much to be blamed for possessing such faculties. Why ask for a judg- ment on her from such a world ?' But I turn from the critical, unsympathetic public, in- clined to judge harshly because they have only seen super- ficially and not thought deeply. I appeal to that larger and more solemn public who know how to look with ten- der humility at faults, and errors, how to admire generous- ly extraordinary genius, and how to reverence with warm, full hearts all noble virtue. To that Public I commit the memory of Charlotte Bronte. INDEX Abbotstord, 471, 488 Academy of Arts, Royal, 139-40, 171, 373, 377 re, 631 1 Agnes Grey,' see Anne Bronte's works Ahaderg, co. Down, 36 re Ambleside, 493, 606, 508 ff, 699 re Antwerp, 263 Arnold, Matthew, 612-13 Arnold, Mrs., 504, 512-13 Arnold, Thomas (Dr.), 489, 499, 502-603, 509, 512-13 'Athenasum, The,' 310, 341, 342, 434, 466, 487, 608 re Atkinson, H. G., 514, 517 Atkinson, Mr., 136 Audubon, J. J., 135 Aueten, Jane, 360-62, 664 n, 619 Aykroyd, Tabitha ('Tabby'), 57 «, 61 re, 82, 83, 129, 167, 175, 187, 214 n, 264, 276, 281-82, 307, 322-23, 429-30, 470-71, 510, 534 n, 638, 591, 631, 651 Aylott and Jones, 300-303, 305, 308- 11, 313-15 Balzac, II. de, 494, 607 re Bardsley, Rev. T. W., 201 n Bath, 164 'Bath Herald,' 343 re Batley, 99 Batt, Captain, 100 Bell Church, Thornton, 46 n Bell, Rev. Alan, 604 re ** Benson, A. 0., his life of Archbishop Benson quoted, 177 n 'Bentley's Magazine,' 309 Bewick, T., 135 Bierley, 46 n Biggar, Miss, 566 u Birch, Attorney - General and Major- General, 101 Birstall, 99, 102 re, 135, 181, 184, 199, 201, 209, 279, 303, 330, 333, 427, 628 'Blackwood's Magazine,' 88, 154 re, 213, 310 Blake Hall, 176 n, 193 re, 214 re Blanche, Mile., 234, 263-64 re, 271 ™ Bland, Susan, 203 'Bookman, The,' 617 re Book of Common Prayer, 128 re Borrow, George, his ' Bible in Spain,' 303 re Bossuet, 242 Bradford, 1, 15, 205 re Bradford, Vicar of, The patron of Haworth, 27 Bradley, Rev. Richard, 462 re Branwell, Anne, 41 re Branwell, Charlotte, 41 n Branwell, Elizabeth, 41, 61-63, 83, 124, 128 re, 152, 169, 174, 191-92, 217, 251 re, 252 Branwell, John, 200 re Branwell, Maria, see Mrs. Patrick Bronte Branwell, Thomas, 39, 41 re Branwells of Cornwall, 41 re Bremer, Frederika, 558, 635 Brewster, Sir David, 535, 537-38,561 Bridlington, see Burlington Briery, 480 ff, 484 ' Britannia,' 310, 353 'Brocklehurst, Mr.,' 346, see also Rev. Carus Wilson 657 658 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Bromsgrove, 306 Bronte, Anne her birth, 8 re, 10 re, 38 re, 46 baptism, 47 re childhood, 50 ff, 59, 86 ff and Miss Branwell, 61 re, 191, i 253 n at school, 151 n, 170 as governess, 175 re, 193, 213-14, 221 and Emily, 166 and Miss Nussey, 167, 406 ff and Charlotte, 170,176, 211, 215- 16, 349, 356, 369, 396-97 », 466 her diary, 212-13 n her visit to London, 371-72 and the Misses Robinson, 389 her letters to Miss Nussey, 405, 407 and Miss Outhwaite, 412 n her illnesses, 327, 350, 365, 389 at Scarborough, 411-20 her last illness and death, 392- 94, 399-418, 419 her grave, 419 re, 586 mural tablet to, 8-10 her appearance, 129 her portrait, 138 her works : — juvenile writings, 92 re Poems, 299 ff, 306, 395 re, 408 ff, 487 'Agnes Grey,' 176, 298, 320, 332, 354, 355, 374 re, 491, 492 ' The Tenant of Wildfell Hall,' 302 «, 369-70, 374 re, 491, 507 Bronte, Charlotte her birth, 8 re, 10 n, 38 re, 46 baptism, 47 re childhood, 50, 56-59 and MisB Branwell, 61 re, 191, 25.3 re school life at Cowan Bridge, 64, 72, 77 ff, 80, 82, 104 school life at Roe Head, 98, 101 ff, 120-21, 170 her portraits, 58, 138, 474-76, 497-98, 614, 632 her list of painters, 89 Bronte, Charlotte — cont. as Sunday school teacher, 125 203, 332 her eyesight, 125 re, 290, 632 her study of French, 126, 231 n 236-43, 265-69, 277 ff her fear of death, 130, 144 on the choice of books, 134 visits the Nusseys, 126, 136, 144 279, 293, 305, 306, 339, 473,' 510, 571-73, 698 re as a teacher at Koe Head, 140-51 her religious views, 146-48, 157, 165-66, 244, 271-72,635 writes to Coleridge, 153 correspondence with Southey, 153, 159-64 and Anne, 170, 176, 210, 216, 349-50, 356, 369, 396-97 n, 466 and Emily, 232-34, 235, 243, 248, 252, 386 ff, 397 re, 410-11, 424 first offer of marriage, 173-74 second offer of marriage, 184 third offer of marriage, 521 fourth offer of marriage, 602-604 as a governess, 175-80, 201, 203, 206-10, 214 n projects for keeping a school, 192, 211-13, 216-20, 283-86, 825 early pseudonyms, 195 on marriage, 198, 220-21 re, 305 on French literature, 200 at Brussels, 218, 220-22, 223-63, 268-78 at the Chapter Coffee House, 225, 258, 371, 375 re, 378 and the Hegers, 232-43 her study of German, 240 re, 269, 263 re, 269-70, 274 and the Confessor, 271-72 her love of animals, 280-81 her investments, 304, 430-31 her father's operation for the cataract, 316-20 ^her method of writing, 323-25 and Harriet Martineau, 324, 440- 41 and Thackeray, 340, 349, 864, 666 re, 622-24 INDEX 659 Bronte, Charlotte — cont. and G. H. Lewe3, 341 n, 350-55, 359-64 her visits to London, 225, 258, 371-80, 438-41,468-72, 526- 38, 601 re, 604 ff at the opera, 373, 376, 380 and the ' Quarterly Review,' 395- 98, 428 visits Scarborough, 411-28, 586- 88 visits Edinburgh, 471 visits a phrenologist, 640 ff on Mr. George Smith's ' phreno- logical estimate,' 542 re ff, 551- 52 re and Thackeray's portrait, 614-15 visited by Mrs. Gaskell, 496-99, 627, 629-36 her engagement with Mr. Nich- olls, 602 ff, 637, 642 ff her marriage, 645 ff her illness and death, 651 ff mural tablet to, 9-10 her appearance, 103 ff, 190 ff her character, 248, 603 her father, see Rev. Patrick Bronte her mother, see Mrs. Patrick Bronte her sisters, see Anne Bronte, Emily Bronte, Elizabeth Bronte, Marie Bronte her brother, see Patrick Bran- well Bronte her works : — juvenile writings, 86-93, 95 early literary attempts, 163, 194 Poems, 95, 153, 299 ff, 487 see Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell ' Emma,' 194 re -*-tfane Eyre,' 130, 144, 173, 302 n, 323, 684 re, 632, 634 authorship of, 345 n, 368- 72, 388 re inception, 321, 323 ff, 332 manuscript of, 838, 339 publication of, 339 preface, 340 re Bronte, Charlotte — cord,. her works : — 1 Jane Eyre ' — cont. dedication, 349 reprint, 363, 386, 454 re in America, 370, 474 re reception, 340 ff, 359-60, 461, 489 Cowan Bridge controversy, 64, 346, 381 and the ' Quarterly Review,' 395 ff, 428 in France, 436 and Miss Martineau, 608 ff 'Brocklehurst,' 346 ' Helen Burns,' 73, 632 ' Rochester,' 455, 474 'The Professor,' 194, 320-21 seeking a publisher, 332, 334-36, 352, 515-16 re 'Shirley,' 100, 103, 158 re, 395-96, 632 its composition, 424-27, 592 the curates of, 424, 461 authorship of, 433, 447-48 Charlotte on, 467, 592 . — ■ reprint of, 579-80, 588, 597 Rev. A. B. Nicholls on, 447 general reception of, 431 ff, 436 ff, 439, 489 ' Caroline Helstone,' 102 re, 103 •Villette,' 577, 589, 592 its inception, 514-15, 561, 567 n, 692 in manuscript, 696 re, 69J" publication, 605 its reception, 607 ff, 617 ff Mr. George Smith and, 592, 604-605, 619-20 re 'M. Paul Emanuel,' 532, 619-20, 632 confession incident in, 271- 72 'LucySnowe,' 595, 696,632 Charlotte Bronte on, 599- 600 and Miss Martineau, 620 re Bronte (Charlotte) and her Circle,' 102 re, 263 re, 271 », 338 re, 475 re, 509 » 660 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Bronte Museum, 315 n Bronte, Elizabeth, 59, 77 ff, 106, 110 her birth, 10 n, 46 her baptism, 46 ff at Cowan Bridge school, 64, VI, 80 her death, IS mural tablet to, 8, 10 n Bronte, Emily Jane birth, 8 n, 10 «, 38 n, 46 baptism, 47 n at Haworth, 176, 187, 192, 318 her childhood, 51, 59, 86 ff schooldays at Cowan Bridge, 66, n, 72, 77, 80, 81 schooldays at Roe Head, 140-41 as governess at Halifax, 143, 151, 171, 214 n * in London, 225 at Brussels, 143, 218, 223-53 and the Hegers, 232 ff Charlotte's letters to, 178, 180, 263-64, 271-72, 276 her friendship for Anne, 166 and Branwell, 287, 306 ~*»Jjer religious views, 146 her appearance, 61, 129, 232, 248 her portrait, 138-39 her likeness to G. H. Lewes, 469 and Miss Nussey, 167, 339 her dog, see Keeper learns drawing, 125 her illness and death, 386 ff, 391- 94, 401 re, 437 n mural tablet to, 8 ff »^Jier character, 138, 152, 166, 226, 248, 632 and Shirley, 632 Charlotte Bronte on, 366-57, 396 n Sydney Dobell on, 499, 506 her love of the moors, 142, 143, 283, 466 her study of French, 225, 232 ff, 235, 241, 243 her study of German, 143, 243 and Miss Branwell, 191, 253 n her diary, 212-13 n her works : — juvenile writings, 92 n Poems, 298 ff, 307, 487 ff Bronte, Emily Jane — cord. her works : — _!_Wuthering Heights,' 151 n 298, 303 n, 320. 336, 344 499 authorship of, 370 ff, 374 n publication of, 332, 364, 356 491 reprint of, 492, 500, 506 its light on Emily, 367 Charlotte on, 356-67 sent to Mrs. Gaskell, 480 n 'Joseph,' 12 ' Heatholiffe,' 356 Bronte, Hugh (Rev. P. Bronte's fa- ther, biographical note on, 36 n Bronte, Hugh (Rev. P. Bronte's broth- er), biographical note on, 36 n Bronte, Maria, 47-48, 50, 67, 59 ff, 77, 106, 170, 632 her birth, 10 n, 46 her baptism, 46 n at Cowan Bridge School, 64, 71, 80 her death, 73 ff mural tablet to, 8, 9 n Bronte, Rev. Patrick his birth and descent, 36 n, 37 » his early life, 37 at Cambridge, 37, 219, 378 at Weatherfield, 38 « at Heartshead, 39, 45 at Thornton, 38 », 46, 47 goes to Haworth, 36, 39 n, 47 his courtship, 42-45 his marriage, 39, 45 his wife, see Bronte, Mrs. Patrick his curates, 182, 196, 313 n his home, 47 his study, 6, 49 his library, 127, 131 his children at home, 68-59, 90, 138, 174-175 takes his children to school, 72, 80 and Miss Branwell, 169-170 and his son, 297, 331, 881, 383-85 and Charlotte, 631 and Jane Eyre, 337, 356-48 Charlotte's letter to, 509 n, 533-34 n, 536-37 n INDEX 661 Bronte, Rev. Patrick — cont. and Charlotte's portrait, 474-75 and Charlotte's marriage, 604, 637, 646. See also Nieholls, Rev. A. B. and Emily, 389 and the Rev. A. B. Nieholls, 53 «, 182 », 603-604, 641 ff, 660 and Miss Nussey, 339, 668, 591 and Miss Wooler, 170 and M. Heger, 254-56 his gun, 53 takes Charlotte and Emily to Brussels, 225 and ' Villette,' 607 n his illnesses, 56, 137, 400, 426, 462, 464, 588, 645 his eyesight, 276-277, 316, 321, 325, 626-27 n and Mrs. Gaskell, 498, 626 and Mr. George Smith, 607 «, 626 n, 654-55 n his character, 53-56 his exclusiveness, 47-50 Mrs. Gaskell's view of, 52 n, 63 n his will, 38 n mural tablet to, 10 n Bronte, Mrs. Patrick, 41 her birth, 10 » her descent, 41 n her love letters, 42-44, 451 her books, 127 her marriage, 39, 45 her death, 56, 61 her life at Haworth, 48, 51 her portrait, 41 « her monument, 7, 9 n Bronte, Patrick Branwell birth, 8 n, 10 a, 46 baptism, 47 n childhood, 58-59, 83, 86-88 and the Royal Academy of Arts, 139, 171, 188, 214 n at Luddenden Foot, 202 n, 213 in Miss Branwell's will, 253 and Anne, 287, 369 and Miss Branwell, 128 n, 129, 191 and Charlotte, 125 n, 286-88, 290 Bronte, Patrick Branwell — cont. Charlotte's letters to, 106, 107 and Emily, 287, 306 and his father, 297 and his sisters' novels, 335, 385 n and the Robinsons, 295, 484-85 n his drawings and paintings, 138, 633 his letter to Wordsworth, 153- 55 his writings, 92 n, 154-56, 190 his character, 137, 188-90 his appearance, 129, 190 his idleness and bad habits, 276, 286, 287, 290, 294, 295, 297, 304, 305, 306, 307, 311, 327, 331, 368-59, 380, 282 ft his death, 382-86 mural tablet to, 8, 9 n his knowledge of London, 140, 188 as railway clerk, 202, 213, 2-14 «, 221 as tutor, 202 n, 214 n Brooke, Mrs., 201, 203 ff Brookroyd, 102 n, 307, 339, 473 ff, 572 ff, 644 Brougham, Lord, biographical note on, 136 n Broughton-in-Furness, 202 n Brown, John, 447 n Brown, Martha, 52 n, 66 n, 214 n, 307, 420, 429, 447, 464, 470-71, 606-607 Brown, Samuel, 489 Browne, Dr., the phrenologist, 540 ff Brussels, 108 n, 215, 218-22, 223 ff, 259 ff Bryce, Rev. David, 183, 193 n Bulwer, Sir Edward Lytton (after- wards first Lord Lytton), 364, 534 n Burlington, 183, 186 », 201,212, 253, 291 ' Burns, Helen,' 73, 632 Busfield, Mrs., 283-84 Byron, Lord, 134, 135, 601 Caldwell, Anne, see Mrs. Marsh Campbell, Thomas, 134 662 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Carlisle, Earl of, 631-32 ' Caroline Helatone,' see ' Shirley ' Carrodus, J. F., 2 n Carter, Anne, 193 Carter, Rev. E. N., 97 n Cartman, Rev. Dr., 633 n Cartwright's Mill, 111 ff Casterton, 62 ff, 382 Chambers, W. &R., 299 ' Chambers's Journal,' 306 Charnock, Mr., 26, 28 Chorley, H, F., 463 n ' Christian Remembrancer, The ' 617 m ' ' Christopher North,' see John Wilson Clapham, Mr. and Mrs., 663 n Cleathorpe, 181 ff Clergy Daughters' School, see Cowan Bridge Cobbett, William, 124 Cockayne, Alderman, 14 ' Colburn's New Monthly Magazine ' 309 Coleridge, S. T., 153, 190, 290 Collins, Mr., 196 ff Commonwealth, The, 14 ff, 242 ' Cornhill Magazine,' 194 m Cowan Bridge, 63 ff, 104, 382 Cowper, W., 145, 147 Craik, Mrs., 619-20 'Cranford,' see Mrs. Gaskell, her works 'Critic, The,' 310 Cromwell, Oliver, 16, 242 Cross Stone Vicarage, 42 n Crosse, Rev. John, 33 Crowley, Rev. Dr., 379 Crystal Palace, see Exhibition of 1851 ' Daily News,' 310, 324 «, 341, 496, 607 n, 608 D'Aubigne, 307, 531, 560 Davenport, Mrs., 535, 537 n Davy, Dr., 39, 41 Day, Tho.mas, 51 ' Deerbrook,' see Harriet Martineau Derby, 442 Derby, Lord, 579 De Quincey, Thomas, 314 n De Renzi, Rev. Mr., 182 n, 604 n Dewsbury, 38 n Dewsbury Moor, 151, 156, 164, 170, 172, 217, 220 Dickens, Charles, 342 m, 465, 553 his ' Bleak House,' 678 n 'Dictionary of National Biography' quoted, 14 n, 638 n Disraeli, Benjamin (afterwards Earl of Beaconsfield), 364, 679 Dixon, George, 245 », 274 Dixon, Miss Mary, 246 n, 260, 273 Dobell, Sydney, '488, 499-501, 506- 607, 529-30, 637 his ' Balder,' 638-39 Donnington, 173 n Douro, Marquis of, 84, 85 Driver, Dr., 88 Dublin University Magazine,' 310, 354 Earnley Rectory, 173 n Eastlake, Lady, 395 n ff Easton, 185 Eckermann's ' Conversations with Goethe,' 434 ' Eclectic, The,' 629 ' Economist, The,' 343, 396 n Edinburgh, Charlotte Bronte in, 471- 73, 475 n, 488 ' Edinburgh Review,' 310, 432, 448, 494 Ellesmere, Earl of, 537 n ' Emanuel Paul,' see ' Villette * Emdale, 36 n Emerson, R. W., 459-60 ' Emma,' see Charlotte Bronte's works Enoch, F., 314 n ' Esmond,' see W. M. Thackeray 'Examiner, The,' 341, 343-44, 381 n 607 », 627 n Exhibition of 1851, The Great (Crys- tal Palace), 522, 523 n, 527 n, 631, 533 n ff, 548, 560 Eyre, Joan, 294 n ff Eyre, Robert, 294 n 'Fair Carew, The,' 564-66 n ' Fanshawe Ginevra,' see Mrs. Robert- son — Maria Miller Fearneley, Fairfax, 101 INDEX 663 Fennell, Miss (Mrs. Morgan), 43 ™, 46 n Fennell, Rev. John, 42 ff, 46 n Ferrand, Mrs. Busfield, 483 1 Field Head,' 100 Fielding, Henry, 577 n, 623-24 his ' Tom Jones,' 360 his ' Jonathan Wild,' 577-78 n Filey, 586-88 'Florence Sackville,' 565-68 n Flossy, the dog, 662, 651 Fonblanque, A. W., 435, 437 Forbes, Dr., 390-91 n, 404, 411, 522 n, 525, 531, 627 n Forcade Eugene, 436-37 Forster, John, 520 n, 679 Fox, George, 164 n Fox Howe, Westmoreland, 504, 512 'Fraser's Magazine,' 341 «, 351-52 n, 513 1 Free Lance,' 662 n Froude, J. A., 447 Garrs, Nancy, 53-54 », 57 n Garrs, Sarah, 57 n Gaskell, Mrs., 490 n, 522 n on Rev. Cams Wilson, 66 ff, 382 n and Sir Wemyss Reid, 78 n on Branwell Bronte, 294 Charlotte Bronte on, 483 n, 646 raff meets Charlotte Bronte, 480 ff visit3 Charlotte Bronte, 496-99, 426, 630-36 letters from Charlotte Bronte, 485-87, 506, 647-50, 604-605, 615, 625-29, 644 visited by Charlotte Bronte, 536-38, 620-22, 640, 643 on Charlotte Bronte, 322 ff, 605 ff, 631 ff on Emily Bronte, 632-33 on Rev. Patrick Bronte, 631, 633 on Rev. A. B. Nicholls, 602 ff, 625, 642, 647 n and Charlotte Bronte's letters to Miss Nussey, 102 n and Miss Nussey, 102 n, 122 on Mary Taylor, 108 n - on Miss Wooler, 103 Gaskell, Mrs. — cord, and Miss Martineau, 667 n, 609- 10« and Miss Lsetitia Weelwright, 246 n and Thackeray, 627 n her works : — the 'Life of Charlotte Bronte,' 246 n, 602 ' Cranford,' 627 ' Mary Barton,' 554 n 1 Moorland Cottage,' 480 n 'Ruth,' 601, 604-605 Gaskell, Miss Julia, 550, 553, 328 Gaskell, Miss Marianne, 550, 563, 628 ff Gaskell, Miss Meta, 548, 553, 628 ff Gaskell, Rev. W., 12 n, 553-54 Gawthorpe Hall, 457 'Germ, The,' 300 n Glascar, 37 n ' Glasgow Examiner,' 343 n Glenelg, Lord, 635, 537 n Goethe, 434 Goethe, Lewes' 'Life' of, 351 n Goldsmith, Oliver, 128 n, 134, 564 n, 664 Gomersal, 97 n, 108 n, 119, 120, 175, 199-200 Gore, Mrs., 477 Grant, Rev. Mr., 462 n, 646 Greenwood, John, 299 n, 474 Grey, Earl, 106, 132 Grimshaw, Rev. W., 6 n, 22 ff, 49 Guizot, 242 Gulston, Miss Josepha ('Talbot Gwynne'), 581 n Halifax, 16, 39, 151, 171, 300 ' Halifax Guardian,' 79 n Hallam, Arthur, 486 Hardaker, Elizabeth, 168 « Hare, J. and A., their 'Guesses at Truth,' 42 Harrogate, 184 Hartshead, 38, 113, 130 Hathersage, 173 n, 293 Hausse, Mile., 263 n Haworth, 3, 135, 337, 365, 630 church and churchyard, 6 ff, 48, 630 664 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Haworth — cont. mural tablet to the Brontes, 7-10 curates, 182, 196, 313 n museum, 315 n Matthew Arnold's verses on 'Haworth Churchyard,' 513 n parsonage, 4, 48, 62, 130, 278, 497 ff, 554, 632 population of, 3 n villagers, 21, 31 ff dissenters, 6 n, 49 'Black Bull,' 26, 29, 137, 191 Mrs. Gaskell and, 630 Hazlitt, William, 459, 500 Heald, Miss Mary, 385 Heald, Rev. W. M., 164 n Heald's Hall, 113 Heap, Mr., 33 Heap, Mrs., 205 n Hebden Bridge, 202 n Heckmondwike, 97 m, 1 13, 1 17 ff, 176 n Heger, M., 223, 230 ff, 252 ff, 259 ff, 263 ff, 277 ff, 290, 326 n Heger, Mme., 223, 230 ff, 234, 243, 246 ff, 252, 259 ff, 273 ff, 277 ff Heger's Pensionnat, 223, 227 ff, 279 Helps, Sir Arthur, his 'Friends in Council,' 434 Hero, the hawk, 213-214 n Hewitt, Mrs., 653 n Hey wood, ' Life of Oliver,' 16, 26 ff, 100 n Higgins, M. J. (' Jacob Omnium '), 527 n Hodgson, Rev. W, 182 ff Homoeopathy, 388-89 n ' Hood's Magazine,' 309 Hornsea, 637 Hotel Clusyenaar, 246 n Houghton, Lord, see Monckton Milnes House of Commons, 469 Howitt, William, 435 Howley Hall, 98 Huddersfield, 148, 201 n Hudson, John, 186 Hugo, Victor, 236 Hume, David, 134 Hunsworth, 286 n, 400 n Hunt, Leigh, 454 n his ' Autobiography,' 500 his ' Jar of Honey,' 645 n ' Imitation op Christ,' 56 n, 128 n Inchbald, Mrs., 564 n Ingham, Mrs., 175, 193 n Ireland, 366 'Jacob Omnium,' see M. J. Hig- gins 'Jane Eyre,' see Charlotte BrontS's Works Jannoy, Hortense, 263 n Jar of Honey," see Leigh Hunt Jeffrey's ' Essay,' 499 Jenkins, Rev. Mr., 218, 222 n, 223, 225 Jenkins, Mrs., 218, 222 n, 223, 226, 245 Jerrold, Douglas, 454 n ' Jerrold's Newspaper,' 343 n Jerrold's ' Shilling Magazine,' 310 ' John Bull,' 88 Johnson, Dr., 107, 181, 135, 360, 371 n, 664 n Kavanagh, Julia, 469 n, 470, 490 n, 580 Keeper, the dog, 213-14 n, 276, 281- 82, 393, 562, 633 Keighley, 1, 49, 88, 198, 257, 337, 371, 392, 680 ' Kenilworth,' see Sir Walter Scott Key worth, Rev. Thomas, 151 n ' King of the Golden River, The,' see John Ruskin Kingsley, Charles, 499 n, 550 Kirby Lonsdale, 66 Kirkstall Abbey, 42 Knox, Dr. Robert, 600 ' Ladies' Magazine,' 127 Lamb, Charles, 57, 381 », 644 Law Hill, 151 n Lawrence, Samuel, his portrait of W. M. Thackeray, 614 ff, 632 'Leader, The,' 465, 554 n, 566 «, 579 n, 598 Leeds, 181, 202, 258, 871, 414, 628 ' Leeds Intelligencer,' 88 ' Leeds Mercury,' 7 n, 88, 190, 607 « Leopold, King of the Belgians, 223, 277 Lewea, George Henry, 341 n, 350-56, INDEX 665 359-64, 432-33, 448-60, 466, 469, 494-95, 566 re his ' Ranthorpe,' 351 n, 355, 363 his ' Rose, Blanche, and Violet,' 351 re, 863 Leyland, Francis A., his 'Bronte Family,' 125 re, 202 re Lille, 221 ff 'Literary Gazette, The,' 310, 340, 342, 542, 607 re Liverpool, 182 ff Liversedge, 111, 113 Lockhart, J. 6., 135 London Bridge Wharf, 258 London, see Charlotte Bronte in London the Chapter Coffee House, 225, 258, 371, 375 n, 378 St. Paul's Cathedral, 130, 225, 378 Trafalgar Square, 548 Louis-Philippe, King, 365 ' Lowood School,' 65 'Lucy Snowe,' see Charlotte Bronte — ' Villette ' Luddenden Foot, 22, 202, 213 Luddite Riots, 110 ff Lyttou, Lord, see Sir E. L. Bulwer Macadlay, Lord, his 'Essays,' 600, 679 re his ' History of England,' 499 McClory, Alice, 36 re McCrowdie, Miss, 566 re Macready, W., 620 re Manchester, 13 re, 202, 246 re, 317 ff, 325, 538, 620, 625, 644 Manners, Lord John, 483 Marie, Mile., 234 Marsh, Mrs., 342 re, 634 Martineau, Harriet, 324, 440-41, 447, 483, 493, 498, 606, 508-18, 546-48, 550-61, 555 re, 658, 559 re, 565 re, 678 re, 698, 599 re, 607 re, 620 re her 'Deerbrook,' 440, 571 re Martineau, Rev. James, 651 ' Mary Barton,' see Mrs. Gaskell, her workB Marzials, Mme., 222 re Maurice, Rev. F. D., 660 Melrose, 471, 488 Melville, Rev., 660 Merrell, Michael, 6 re ' Methodist Magazine,' 127 Mill, John Stuart, 552-53 Miller, Maria, see Mrs. Robertson Milnes, Monckton, 531-32, 535 Milton, John, 134 ' Mirabeau,' 370 n Mirfield, 175 re ' Mirror, The,' 125 re, 131 ' Modern Painters,' see John Ruskin Moore, Thomas, his ' Lives ' of Byron and Sheridan, 135 'Moorland Cottage, The,' see Mrs. Gaskell, her works Morgan, Rev. William, 43 n, 46 re ' Morning Chronicle," 454 n Morrison, Mr. Alfred, 301 re Miihl, Mile., 263 re Mulock, Mis3 Dinah M., see Mrs. Craik Napoleon, 265-69 National Gallery, 373, 377 re Newby, Thomas Cautley, 364, 356 re, 363 re, 869 re, 374 re, 489 re, 502 n, 504-505 re, 671 n Newman, F. W., 447, 481 Newman, Father (afterwards Cardi- nal), 481 Newton, Rev. John, 22 Nicholls, Rev. Arthur Bell, 313, 413, 462 re, 471, 634 re, 625 and Mrs. Gaskell, 567-68 re, 602 ff, 625, 642, 647 re and Rev. Patrick Bronte, 63 re, 182 re, 602-604, 641 ff, 650 his engagement with Charlotte Bronte, 602-604, 637, 641 marriage with Charlotte BroDte, 645 ff his study at Ha worth Parsonage, 48 re, 644 in Ireland, 604 re, 647 and ' Shirley,' 447 on Emily Bronte's portrait, 139 re and 'The Professor,' 320 re and ' Jane Eyre,' 447 Nicholls, Rev. — , 22 666 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE Nicoll, Dr. Robertson, 617 » 'Nineteenth Century,' 63 Noel, Baptiste, 221-22 ' Nonconformist, The,' 607 n ' North American Review,' 388 n Nussey, Miss Ellen, biographical note, 101-102 n at school, 101 ff at Haworth, 129, 147, 222 n, 332, 336, 619, 646, 663, 683, 684 ff, 606 visited by Charlotte Bronte, 126, 135, 144, 279, 293, 306, 339, 473-74, 610, 571, 598 help to Mrs. Gaskell, 102 re, 122 her recollections of Anne Bronte", 414 ff her recollections of Emily Bronte, 129 letter from Anne Bronte, 407- 408 her description of Miss Bran well, 61 re her description of 'Tabby,' 61 re visits London, 130-33 and Charlotte Bronte's wedding, 645 ff her death, 102 re letters from Charlotte Bronte, 122-23, 126, 131-35, 146- 51,156-57, 164-68,172-76, 179-80, 181-87, 193, 199- '205, 208-12, 213-16, 219- 22, 234-36, 243^4, 250-51, 259-60, 262-63, 273-75, 278- 79, 291-93, 295-96, 306-307, 312-13, 317-19, 325-29, 330- 33, 339, 366-68, 382-86, 389- 93, 399-404, 406-407, 410- 12, 420-22, 426-27,430, 436- 38, 441 n, 447-48, 450-51, 456 re, 468-70, 474, 482-84, 492-94, 508-509, 521, 525-29, 530-31, 633-36, 563, 579, 584- 85, 586-88, 590-91, 645, 652 Nussey, George, 148, 291 Nussey, Rev. Henry, 135, 173 n, 294 n Nussey, Mercy, 653 n Oakwell Hall, 99 Oberlin, J. P., ' Life' of, 160 O'Connell, D., 132 Olipbant, Mrs., 154 m ' Oliver Weld,' 568 ff, 678 Outhwaite, Miss, 128 re, 412 n Palladium, 488, 499, 506 Palmerston, Lord, 38 ' Paris Sketch Book, The,' see W. M. Thackeray Parker, John W., 351 Parker, Thomas, 33 n Fatchett, Miss, 151 re, 214 re Peel, Sir Robert, 90, 105, 132, 136 ' Pendennis,' see W. M. Thackeray Penn, William, 679 re Penzance, 39, 61 ' People's Journal,' 343 Phillips, George Searle, 125 re Pickering, C, 500 ' Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell,' 298, 300 ff, 306, 319, 354, 487 Pope, A., 134 Postlethwaite, Mr., 202 re ' Prelude, The,' see W. Wordsworth 'Professor, The,' see Charlotte Bronte, her works ' Punch,' 329 re, 489 ' Puseyites,a Paper Lantern for,' 602 n, 504 » 'Qcarterly Review, The,' 395-99 Quillinan, Edward, 154 Rachel, Mile., 635, 660 Ramsbottom, Dr., 31 ' Ranthorpe,' see G. H. Lewes Rawdon, 206 re, 213 n Rawfolds, 111 ff 'Rebecca and Rowena,' see W. M. Thackeray Redhead, Rev. Mr., 28-31, 118 ' Reed, Mrs,' 61 n Reform Bill, 105 Reid, Sir Wemyss, 53 n, 54 n, 78 n, 102 re ' Revue des Deux Mondes,' 436 Richmond, Legh, 160 Richmond, George, his portrait of Charlotte Bronte, 58, 474,497, 632 Riddell, Mrs., 354 n INDEX 667 Rigby, Miss, see Lady Eastlake Ringrose, Miss, 883 n Ripon, Bishop of, 616 Ritchie, Mrs. Richmond, 648 n 'Rivista Britannica,' 554 « Roberson, Hammond, 113— lY, 165 n Robinson, Rev. Edmond, 218, 295, 389 Robinson, the Misses, 389 Robinson, William, of Leeds, 125 n Rochdale, 21 ' Rochester,' 455, 474 Roe Head, 98, 109, ll 1 ?, 125, 140, 149, 151 Rogers, Samuel, 535, 537 n Rollin, 135 ' Rose, Blanche, and Violet,' see G. H. Lewes ' Rose Douglas,' see Mrs. Whitehead Rousseau, J. J., 51 Rowe, Mrs. Elizabeth, 128 Rue d'Isabelle (' Rue Fossette '), 225, 227, 229, 246, 259, 273 Rue Royale, 227 Ruskin, John, 490, 518, 520 n, 526 ff, 552, 627 his 'King of the Golden River,' 491 his ' Modern Painters,' 481 his ' Seven Lamps of Architect- ure,' 481 his ' Stones of Venice,' 518, 523 n, 526 », 553 Russell, Lord John, 679 'Ruth,' see Mrs. Gaskell, her works Rydings, The, 102 m, 126 St. Clair, Lady Harriet, 619, 620 n St. Gudule, 226, 229 St. James' Palace, 132 St. John's College, Cambridge, 37 St. Paul's Cathedral, 131, 225, 378 Sand, George, 361, 362, 494, 495 Scarborough, 213, 411 ff, 586 'Scatcherd,' Miss, 73 'School for Fathers, The,' 581 Scoresby, Dr., 28 Scott, Alexander J., 460 Scott, Rev. James, 119 n Scott, Sir Walter, 127, 134, 228 n, 360, 490 his ' Keuil worth ' 128 Shakespeare, 134 Sheridan, R. B., 107 Shuttleworth, Lady, 455-56, 463-64, 480-81, 537 n, 612 Shuttleworth, Sir James Kay, 455, 463 -64, 468 n, 480-81, 509 n, 613 n, 535, 537 n, 612, 650-51 'Shirley,' see Charlotte Bronte, her works Sidgwick, JohD, of Stonegappe, 177- 79 Sidgwick, Mrs, 193 n, 262 Simeon, Charles, 368 Smith, Elder & Co., 302 «, 321 n, 335, 341, 370-71, 375, 480, 521 Charlotte Bronte's letters to, 335- 38, 342-45, 362-63 n Smith, Mr. Alick, 562 n, 590 n, 600 n Smith, Mr. George, 339 ff and Anne Bronte, 372, 386 n, 493 and Emily Bronte, 386 n, 493 and 'Jane Eyre,' 339-40, 388 n and ' Shirley,' 397 n, 579-80 and 'Vilette,' 692-95, 697, 601, 605, 608 n and Miss Martineau, 567 n ff sends books to Charlotte Bronte, 370 n, 381 n, 446-47, 454 n, 459, 478 n, 627 n meets Charlotte Bronte, 372 ff and Charlotte Bronte's visits to London, 373 ff, 435 n, 438 ff, 469, 485 and Charlotte Bronte's visit to a phrenologist, 540 ff and Thackeray, 643 n and ' The Professor,' 335 ff, 615- 16 n Charlotte Bronte's opinion of, 377 n and Charlotte Bronte's marriage, 643^4 n CharlotteBronte's letters to,303n, 370 », 381 n, 386 n, 390-91 m, 398 », 430-31, 434-37, 443- 44 n, 454-55 m, 457-62, 463- 64 n, 473 n, 475 n, 489-90 n, 501-603 n, 504-505 n, 515- 16 n, 519-20 m, 522-23 n, 524- 27 n, 539-40 n, 542-43 ra, 546- 668 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE 47 re, 560-52 re, 654-56 re, 658 -59 re, 565-67 re, 586 re, 589- 90 re, 592-95, 599-600, 607- 608 re, 614-15, 619-20 re, 626 -28 re, 643-44 re Smith, Mi's. (Mr. George Smith's moth- er), 373, 377 re, 439 re, 440, 442, 465, 567 «, 590 re, 598, 604-605, 612 Charlotte Bronte's letters to, 443, 453-54 re, 473-74 re, 523- 24 re, 627 re, 538-39, 572-73 n, 698-601 » Smith, John Stores, 562 re Smith, Rev. Peter Augustus 182 re, 462 re, 604 re Smith, Sydney, 500 Sophie, Mile., 234, 263 re Southey, Cuthbert, 159, 161, 449 re Southey, Robert, 127, 134, 153, 159 ff, 195-6, 290, 399, 459 his ' Commonplace Book,' 66 Southowram, 161 re Sowden, Rev. George, 646 re Sowden, Rev. Sutcliffe, 646 Sowerby Bridge, 202 re 'Spectator, The,' 341, 343, 344, 363, 566 re 'Standard, The,' 7 re Stead, J. J., 118 re Sterne, Lawrence, 640 'Stones of Venice, The,' see John Ruskin Stonegappe, 177 re Storey, Rev. T. W., 5 re Stowe, Mrs. Beecher, 628, 634 her 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,' 591, 693-94, 634 Stuart, Dr. J. A. Erskine, 164 re ' Summerson, Miss Esther,' 678 re ' Sun, The,' 353 Swift, Dean, 623 ' Tabby,' see Tabitha Aykroyd ' Tait's Edinburgh Magazine,' 310 Tarbet, 473 re Taylor, Ellen, 403, 576 Taylor, Harry, 390 Taylor, Sir Henry, his 'Philip Van Artevelde,' 499-500 Taylor, James, 340, 397 re, 435 re, 476 re, 490 re, 501 re, 517 re, 521 re, 670 re at Haworth, 398 re, 524 re Charlotte Bronte on, 521 re, 623 Charlotte Bronte's letters to, 465-66, 487-89, 512-14, 560- 61 Taylor, Joseph, 318-19, 333 re, 390 Taylor, Mrs. Joseph, 578 Taylor, Joshua, 158 re, 225 Taylor Martha, 108 re, 159, 171-72, 214, 245, 250-51, 272, 470 Taylor, Mary, 107 at School, 102 ff at Brussels, 215, 225, 248 in New Zealand, 108 re, 159, 291, 403, 533 re, 576 illness of, 193 re description of Charlotte Bronte, 102-103, 106-107, 124-25, 144 -45, 444-45 and Charlotte Bronte, 141, 146, 171, 199, 222, 245, 248-50, 273-75, 286-88, 370, 374-77 and Mrs. Gaskell's biography, 374 re, 655-56 her death, 108 re Teale, Mr., 391, 410 ' Temple, Miss,' 73-74, 76 ' Tenant, of Wildfell Hall,' see Anue Bronte, her works Tennyson, Alfred, 501 his ' In Memoriam,' 486 Thackeray, W. M., 342 re, 364, 437- 40, 444, 453-64, 490 re, 514, 520 re, 525-27 re, 654-55 re, 564-65 re, 574-76, 597, 614, 627 re, 632, 643 re and 'Jane Eyre,' 341, 349, 439 meets Charlotte Bronte, 469, 473 re, 530 sends ' Vanity Fair ' to Charlotte Bronte, 349 his mother, 530 his lectures, 530-34, 640, 546 re, 553, 560, 622-23 his 'Esmond,' 349 re, 574-76, 578-79 re, 590 re, 595, 597-98, 601 his ' Kickleburys on the Rhine,' 504 re INDEX 669 Thackeray, W. M. — cont. his ' Paria Sketch Book,' 576 re, 578 n his 'Pendennis,' 468 his ' Vanity Fair,' 349 re, 881 re, 395 his ' Rebecca and Kowena,' 490 re Thomson, James, 134 ■Thornfield,' 102 re, 324 Thornton, 38 re, 46 Thornton Old Bell Church, 46 Thorp Green, 214 re Tiger, the dog, 276 Tighe, Rev. Mr., 37 'Times, The,' 310, 439, 461, 565 re, 691, 599 re, 601 re Titmarsh, M. A., see W. M. Thacke- ray Trench, Archbishop, 323 Turner, J. Horsfall, 102 n ' Two Families, The,' see Mrs. White- head ' Uncle Tom's Cabin,' see Mrs. Beecher Stowe Upperwood House, Rawdon, 206 n, 213 n ' Vanity Fair,' see W. M. Thackeray Victoria, Queen, 277, 488, 634 re 'Villette,' see Charlotte Bronte, her works Voltaire's ' Henriade,' 231 re Wade, Rev. John, 5 re, 6 Walton, Miss Agnes, 198 n, 200 re, 202 re Watts's 'Improvement of the Mind,' 151 re Weatherfield, Essex, 38 n Weightman, Rev. William, 182 re, 196-98, 199-200 re, 202 re, 203, 251 re Wellington, Salop, 38 n Wellington, New Zealand, 108 re, 576 re Wellington, Duke of, 85, 87, 89-91, 105, 132, 268 ff, 469, 476, 510 re, 611, 590, 614 Wenlock, Lady, 687 Wesley, John, 23, 127 Westminster Abbey, 131 Westminster, Marquis of, 535-37 ' Westminster Review,' 341 re, 552 Wheelwright, Dr., 246 re, 273, 652 Wheelwright, Lsetitia, 230 re, 232 re, 246-47 re, 436 ff, 442, 471, 481 ff, 639, 652 ff White, Gilbert, 135 White, Henry Kirke, 37 re Whitefield, Rev. George, 23 Whitehead, Mrs. : — her Rose Douglas,' 619 re, 580 and ' The Two Families,' 580 Whites of Rawdon, 206 n ff, 213- 14 n, 217, 261, 283 Wilberforce, 'Memoir' of, 150 ' Will O' the Wisp,' see Puseyites Williams, W. S., 476 n, 490 n, 501 n, 515-16 n, 526-26 n, 578 n ff, 694, 620 n discovery of Charlotte Bronte, 340 ft' sends books to Charlotte Bronte, 499-500, 680-81 and ' The Professor,' 331 n Charlotte Bronte's letters to, 341-42 n, 343, 349 n, 363-55, 363-64, 384-85 n, 388-89 m, 393 n, 395-97 n, 401-402 n, 416 n, 428-29, 437 n, 443-45, 456-67 n, 472-73, 480 n, 499- 501, 545-46, 556-57, 564- 66 n, 579-82, 588-89, 595-97, 618-19 Wilson, Rev. Carus, 66 ff, 81 n, 382 n Wilson, John (' Christopher North '), 88 Windermere, 481, 484 Wise, Thomas J., 102 n Wiseman, Cardinal, 601 it, 524 ™, 535 ff Wordsworth, William, 124, 134, 163, 154, 160, 190, 301 his 'Prelude,' 487, 499 Wooler, Catherine, 93, 234 Wooler, Eliza, 166 re, 205 re Wooler, Mrs., 166 n Wooler, Margaret, 97, 404, 451 her school, 101, 103, 110, 120, 140, 164, 217, 219-20 Charlotte Bronte's letters to, 303-304, 365-66, 381-83, 512- 670 LIFE OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE 15, B36-S8, 691-92, 613-14, 636-37, 641-42, 648 Charlotte Bronte and, 128 n, 141 ff, 171-77, 201, 331, 646 and Anne Bronte, 170 ff and Charlotte Bronte's wedding, 645-46 visit to Haworth, 559 Wright's 'Bronte's in Ireland,' 36 «ff 'Wuthering Heights,' see Emily Bronte, her works Yokk, 214 n, 4i4-15 Torkshiremen, Character of, 11 ' Young Men's Magazine,' 85 THE END