Charlotte Brontë And Her Winter Illnesses

January is the longest month, but it can sometimes feel as if it lasts 31 weeks not 31 days. The nights are long and the days are cold and icy. It’s a time of year when people often feel ill or ‘under the weather’, and this was the certainly the case for Charlotte Brontë. In today’s post we’re going to look at two letters she sent on this day in 1852; two letters that lay bare the physical and psychological pressure under which she was living in the years that followed, in rapid succession, the deaths of her siblings Branwell, Emily and Anne Brontë.

Villette was published 170 years (and a day) ago

The letters, sent on the same day exactly 171 years ago, were sent to two members of the same family. Her publisher and friend (and some have speculated another unrequited love) George Smith, and his mother Elizabeth. Charlotte had visited the Smiths in London in June 1851, and it could be that they were expecting her to visit again soon – but she informs them that illness prevents her now and that she feels unable to return to London until certain conditions are fulfilled. It seems likely that Charlotte is referring to the completion of her novel Villette. Yesterday, the 28th of January, marked the anniversary of the novels publication in 1853. Let us turn now to the letters:

Charlotte is staying at Brookroyd in Birstall, the home of her great friend Ellen Nussey, but mental as well as physical torments continue to plague her. With the frankness typical of her letters, Charlotte reveals that she has suffered terribly from depression of spirits in the autumn, followed by “the solitude of life I have felt very keenly this winter.” It makes us think of another letter of Charlotte in which she talks of walking the moors alone, and seeing Anne and Emily everywhere. She loved to read their poetry but now she dare not, because to do so makes her long for her own death.

This must have been a terrifying time for Charlotte, because the physical symptoms she now suffered from were all too familiar to her. The wasting and inability to eat, a shooting pain in her side. Charlotte writes that “my own conclusion was that my lungs were affected.” Charlotte had seen these same symptoms before in all her siblings shortly before they died – she thought that she too had now contracted consumption. Thankfully Charlotte did not have tuberculosis, her lungs and chest were fine, but it is easy to imagine her terror as she waited for a diagnosis.

George Smith
George Smith

In her letter to George Smith, Charlotte writes, “You would find me thin but not exactly ill now”. Despite some of the representations of Charlotte on screen throughout the years, Charlotte was not only small she was very thin too – she is often described as ‘frail’ in appearance by those who knew her. Charlotte called herself, ‘the weakest, puniest, least promising of his [Patrick Brontë’s] six children’, and yet she outlived all her siblings.

Charlotte found herself challenged by mental and physical illness throughout much of her adult life, but she battled on and produced some of the greatest works of fiction the world has ever seen. The dark nights of winter were especially hard for her, but they passed. I hope to see you next week for another new Brontë blog post.

Coping With The Cold In The Brontë Parsonage

One thing I find wonderful is that there are readers of this blog, Brontë lovers, from all corners of the globe. I hope wherever you are, you’re enjoying a happy and healthy start to the year. Those of us in the United Kingdom are certainly ‘enjoying’ a very cold start to the year, and due to huge rises in energy costs many of us are living in colder homes than ever before. Spare a thought for the Brontës – how did they cope with the cold conditions in Haworth Parsonage? We’re going to look at that in today’s post.

As all who are fortunate enough to have visited Haworth in West Yorkshire know, it’s a village that clings to the north west tip of the county, surrounded on three sides by bleakly dramatic Pennine moorland. The Parsonage itself, which was home to the Brontë family for so long, is at the very summit of the village, and the moors sweep away from its very walls. The result is often very beautiful, but even more often extremely cold.

Haworth moors snow
Haworth moorland leading from the Bronte parsonage

The Brontës would have become used to driving rain, heavy snow and howling winds – and its presence finds a way into many Brontë novels and poems. The ‘wuthering’ of Wuthering Heights, for example, references a local dialect word for a particularly icy wind which blows across bleak, open landscapes.

Aunt Branwell must have felt the cold more than most, having spent most of her life in the far warmer climes of Penzance in Cornwall, 400 miles to the south. Ellen Nussey described one way in which she coped with the cold Parsonage: “She had a horror of the climate so far north, and of the stone floors in the parsonage. She amused us by clicking about in pattens whenever she had to go into the kitchen or look after household operations.”

Aunt Branwell display case
Aunt Branwell display case, Bronte Parsonage Museum, showing her pattens

Pattens are metal soles fastened to the bottom of shoes; typically used outside to provide grip in snow or ice, Aunt Elizabeth used them indoors to protect her feet from the freezing stone floor. As can be seen from pairs of boots which still remain part of the Brontë Parsonage Museum collection, early nineteenth century shoes were very different to those we wear today. They were much thinner, and yet the Brontës, especially Emily, would think nothing of walking long distances in them, whatever the weather.

Bronte Shawls

It’s also hard to imagine how they coped with the bitter cold without today’s thermal clothing and quilted coats. One way they coped was to layer up, and to wrap shawls tightly around them. The collection of shawls in the Brontë museum is one of its most beautiful treasures, but they were highly practical and necessary items too.

The harsh winter climate of Haworth contributed to continuous colds and illness, but two letters sent on this day in 1849 deal with a far more serious complaint. Anne Brontë had by this time been diagnosed with terminal consumption, tuberculosis as we would call it today, and Charlotte’s publisher George Smith had offered to pay for leading London specialist Dr. Forbes to visit Haworth Parsonage to see if anything could be done for Anne. Charlotte and her father declined this offer, but instead said they would listen to any advice Dr. Forbes could offer. Alas, Dr. Forbes concurred with Dr. Teale of Leeds, there was nothing more to be done.

The second letter sent by Charlotte on this day 174 years ago shows that Ellen Nussey, ever practical and kind, had also offered help. On Anne’s behalf, Ellen purchased a respirator and pairs of cork soles for both Anne and Charlotte. These soles were placed inside shoes, and once again were used to provide some respite from the cold stone floors of Haworth Parsonage. We know from a subsequent letter that the respirator cost Ellen 30 shillings, and the cork sales ten pence each. Charlotte sent Ellen a postal order for two pounds as payment, along with a review of the cork soles: ‘which I find extremely comfortable’.

Warmer weather will soon return as the wheel of the year spins round, but until then let’s all be thankful that we don’t have to cope with winter as the Brontës and so many others did – without the aid of central heating, warm modern clothing, or winter footwear. Keep warm and I hope to see you again next week for another new Brontë blog post.

Ellen Nussey’s Memories Of Anne Brontë

As you read this, and as I sit typing, a cup of coffee never far from my hand, we are just two days away from the 203rd birthday of our beloved Anne Brontë. I have written two books on Anne, thousands of tweets and hundreds of blog posts, and it’s fair to say that my love of Anne Brontë and her work is well documented, and that it has completely changed the course of my life. In today’s post we’re going to look at Anne Brontë in the words and recollections of someone who knew her better than almost anyone else: Ellen Nussey.

Anne, like her sisters, was very shy, although she battled to overcome this shyness and did forge a successful career as a governess. We know that she did make friends outside of her family, friends such as Ann Marshall of Thorp Green Hall for example, Ellen Cook the schoolgirl who doted upon her at Roe Head, and the Robinson girls – Anne’s charges who loved and respected their governess so much that they continued to seek her advice, and visit her at Haworth, long after Anne had left the employ of their mother.

Nobody outside the Brontë family itself, however, had as long a connection to Anne as Ellen Nussey. Ellen became the best friend of Charlotte Brontë whilst they were at school together at the aforementioned Roe Head School, but the lifelong friendship that developed meant that Ellen was often at Haworth.

The Roe Head School, Scribner's 1871
The Roe Head School, Scribner’s 1871

The kind and personable Ellen soon made friendships with Emily and Anne Brontë too, and she was one of the main sources of information on them for Elizabeth Gaskell’s The Life Of Charlotte Brontë (Gaskell herself had never met Emily, Anne or Branwell). Ellen Nussey also remembered Anne during a long article she wrote for Scribner’s Magazine in 1871 and it is from that article that the following information is taken from. Here are the words of Ellen Nussey as she reminisced on her early visits:

“Emily and Anne were like twins – inseparable companions, and in the very closest sympathy, which never had any interruption. Anne -dear, gentle Anne – was quite different in appearance from the others. She was her aunt’s favorite. Her hair was a very pretty, light brown, and fell on her neck in graceful curls. She had lovely, violet-blue eyes, fine penciled eyebrows, and clear, almost transparent complexion. She still pursued her studies, and especially her sewing, under the surveillance of her aunt…

In fine and suitable weather delightful rambles were made over the moors, and down into the glens and ravines that here and there broke the monotony of the moorland. The rugged bank and rippling brook were treasures of delight. Emily, Anne, and Branwell used to ford the streams, and sometimes placed stepping-stones for the other two; there was always a lingering delight in these spots, every moss, every flower, every tint and form, were noted and enjoyed. Emily especially had a gleesome delight in these nooks of beauty, – her reserve for the time vanished. One long ramble made in these early days was far away over the moors to a spot familiar to Emily and Anne. which they called “The Meeting of the Waters.” It was a small oasis of emerald green turf, broken here and there by small clear springs; a few large stones served as resting-places; seated here, we were hidden from all the world, nothing appearing in view but miles and miles of heather, a glorious blue sky, and brightening sun. A fresh breeze wafted on us its exhilarating influence; we laughed and made mirth of each other, and settled we would call ourselves the quartette. Emily, half reclining on a slab of stone, played like a young child with the tadpoles in the water, making them swim about, and then fell to moralizing on the strong and the weak. the brave and the cowardly, as she chased them with her hand. No serious care or sorrow had so far cast its gloom on nature’s youth and buoyancy, and nature’s simplest offerings were fountains of pleasure and enjoyment.”

Haworth Parsonage
Haworth Parsonage, Scribner’s 1871

Ellen later remembered the musical evenings spent in Haworth Parsonage, and mused upon the changes she had seen in Haworth since the departure of the Brontës:

“A little later on, there was the addition of a piano. Emily, after some application, played with precision and brilliancy. Anne played also, but she preferred soft harmonies and vocal music. She sang a little; her voice was weak, but very sweet in tone…

Haworth of the present day. like many other secluded places, has made a step onwards, in that it has now its railway station and its institutions for the easy acquirement of learning, politics, and literature. The parsonage is quite another habitation from the parsonage of former days.

The garden, which was nearly all grass, and possessed only a few stunted thorns and shrubs, and a few currant bushes which Emily and Anne treasured as their own bit of fruit-garden, is now a perfect Arcadia of floral culture and beauty. At first the alteration, in spite of its improvement,strikes one with heart-ache and regret; for it is quite impossible, even in imagination, to people those rooms with their former inhabitants.

But after-thought shows one the folly of such regret; for what the Brontës cared for and lived in most were the surroundings of nature, the free expanse of hill and mountain, the purple heather, the dells, and glens, and brooks, the broad sky view, the whistling winds, the snowy expanse, the starry heavens, and the charm of that solitude and seclusion which sees things from a distance without the disturbing atmosphere which lesser minds are apt to create.”

Haworth Village, Scribner's 1871
Haworth Village, Scribner’s 1871

Ellen later made a very detailed account of the last days of Anne Brontë’s life, but as we are celebrating the birth of Anne we will leave that sad but beautiful document to another time. For now, thanks to Ellen, we can picture Anne by the piano with her sweet face and sweet voice, knitting by the side of the aunt who loved her dearly, or laughing as she leapt from stone to stone at ‘the meeting of the waters’,with Emily and Branwell leading the way. A fitting portrait, I think, to remember Anne by as her special day approaches.

What You Please Anne Bronte

I hope you will join me in thinking of Anne Brontë on Tuesday, and I hope you’ll join me next Sunday for another new Brontë blog post.

Charlotte Brontë, The Hegers, And Art From Suffering

The early days of a year are often a time for reflection. This can be a positive exercise, but for many it can lead to sad introspection and a longing for times that have gone. That certainly seemed to be the case at the start of 1845, as we see from a letter written on this day in that year and which we will examine in today’s new Brontë blog post.

Charlotte had returned from Brussels to Haworth just over a year earlier but she wasted no time in writing letters to Constantin Heger, her former Professor and then colleague at the Pensionnat Heger school. The picture at the top of this post shows Brussels in the nineteenth century. From this letter, below, and others there can be no doubt at all that Charlotte held a passionate love for Monsieur Heger – unfortunately for her it was an unrequited love, as Constantin was married to the proprietor of the school Claire Heger.

Claire Heger-Parent, proprietor of the Pensionnat Heger

I present the letter in both its original and translated forms below. The images are taken from my very well thumbed copy of Selected Letters Of Charlotte Brontë edited by Margaret Smith and they can also be found in volume one of the Collected Letters – both books I hugely recommend to Brontë lovers.

This is undoubtedly a sad, mournful letter – especially with hindsight as we know that Constantin Heger never responded to Charlotte. The fact that this letter was cut into pieces and then stitched back together by an unknown hand (usually presumed to be Clare Heger) adds to its mystery and its pathos. This was a terrible, heartbreaking time for Charlotte and yet it played a huge part in the great works of literature which were to come. Less than a year later Charlotte was writing her first novel, The Professor about an English teacher in Brussels who falls in love with his pupil; shortly after she wrote Jane Eyre, and surely Constantin Heger is writ large across the character of Rochester? In both these novels the heroine manages to overcome social divides and marries the man who holds a position of power. An ending denied Charlotte in real life, but one she immortalised on the page.

Was Constantin Heger the villain of this story – did he lead Charlotte on, or was he an unwilling source of her affection? We can never know, although we have conflicting testimonies on this matter.

Constantin Heger
Constantin Heger inspired some of Charlotte’s greatest work

After Heger’s death, family friend Albert Colis wrote a glowing testimony to Constantin – and one in which he took aim at Charlotte Brontë. According to Colis, Charlotte had begged to remain at the Pensionnat and when Clare Heger refused, Charlotte ‘warned Madame Heger that she would take her revenge, and this threat was soon carried out… M. Heger felt deeply the ingratitude of his former pupil, with whom, it need hardly be added, he never afterwards held any conversation.’

In 1915, however, a Mrs O’Brien wrote to the Carluke and Lanark Gazette to recollect a conversation she had once held with an employee of the Pensionnat Heger many years after Charlotte’s sojourn there.

This young woman painted a very different picture of Constantin Heger: ‘In those days Mme. Heger was still ruling, and her husband, when questioned as to his famous pupil, replied with insufferable vanity that he had liked his English élevé [a famous, elevated person], and she had responded with a warmer feeling. The tone of his reply disgusted my friend, both with the speaker and with her surroundings. Her heart ached at the thought of what Charlotte Brontë had suffered in that place, at the hands of those people, who had prospered and done well.’

Charlotte and Heger
Charlotte and Monsieur Heger emerge from the tunnel of mystery in ‘Devotion’ – possibly not the most accurate portrayal

The Hegers will always remain an enigma, but what is undoubted is their influence upon Charlotte Brontë. Charlotte suffered greatly, but from her suffering came greatness which endures.

I hope that your start to the year has been a happy one, and I hope you can join me again next Sunday for another new Brontë blog post – à bientôt.

Happy New Year: A Day Of Change For The Brontës

Happy new year! So we have made it through another year – and what a year it was! Three Prime Ministers, an Olympics and a World Cup, an Emily Brontë biopic which was rather not to my liking and the passing of the crown from mother to son. It was certainly a year of uncertainty, so thank goodness that we had the certainty of great books by the Brontës to turn to in times of need.

This very date also marked momentous changes for two members of the Brontë family. The 1st of January 1809 saw Patrick Brontë conduct his final service as an Assistant Curate in Wethersfield, Essex, before heading to a new parish in Shropshire. It was there he would meet William Morgan and the Fennels who would later persuade him to follow them north to Yorkshire. The rest is literary history.

St Mary Magdalene Wethersfield
St Mary Magdalene, Wethersfield – Patrick Bronte left here on New Year’s Day 1809

Patrick arrived at his parish of Dewsbury, in the West Riding of Yorkshire, in the summer of 1812. He supplemented his income by becoming an examiner at Woodhouse Grove school which had been newly founded by the Fennels he had known in Shropshire. Also arriving at the school at this time was a new assistant – their niece from Cornwall, Maria Branwell. Within five months of their first meeting Patrick and Maria were married – in fact this week marked the 210th anniversary of their wedding on 29th December 1812. At the same ceremony at St. Oswald’s church, Guiseley near Leeds, Maria’s cousin Jane Fennel married Patrick’s best friend William Morgan, whilst at the same time in Penzance, Cornwall, Maria’s younger sister Charlotte married her (and Maria and Jane’s) cousin Joseph Branwell. At Guiseley, Patrick officiated at William’s wedding and William at Patrick’s, and the two brides were also bridesmaids. Phew! Thankfully, Charlotte Branwell’s daughter, another Charlotte, later recalled the event to a local newspaper to clarify this triple celebration!

Within seven years and a month of this wedding, Patrick and Maria had a family of six children: Maria, Elizabeth, Charlotte, Patrick Branwell, Emily Jane and baby Anne.

Fast forward 32 years and third child Charlotte Brontë was making a big change of her own. On 1st January 1844 Charlotte left the Pensionnat Heger school in Brussels and started her journey back to her Haworth home – she would never leave England again.

Happy New Year card

Charlotte had arrived nearly two years earlier with Emily Brontë by her side. After a year as a pupil she then spent a year as a teacher and her experiences in Belgium would greatly influence her novels The Professor and Villette. Held in her hand as she left Brussels was a diploma from Monsieur Constantin Heger that she intended to use to set up her own school alongside her sisters; held in her heart, however, was something far more enduring: the unrequited love for the self same Constantin Heger – it would dominate her thoughts and feelings for years to come, and eventually influence her great literary protagonists from Edward Rochester to Paul Emanuel.

Pensionnat Heger
The Pensionnat Heger. Charlotte Bronte left here on New Year’s Day 1844

The start of a new year was a time for major change for the Brontës and it can be for us too. After the unpredictability of recent times, who knows what this new year will bring? All we can do is carpe diem until we can carpe diem no more! Seize the day and take actions today to do that thing you’ve always wanted to do. As a great philosopher said, enjoy yourself – it’s later than you think. And I hope you will continue to enjoy my Brontë blogs – I’ll have another one for you right here next Sunday. Thank you so much for all your support, kindness and encouragement throughout 2022, it meant the world to me. Let me finish by wishing you and your loved ones a very happy new year, and by leaving this image of Auld Lang Syne, a musical score copied by hand by Anne Brontë herself and surely the subject of communal sing-alongs in Haworth Parsonage on new year’s long ago.

Anne Brontë Advent Week Four: Flossy Completed

A very Merry Christmas to you all, thank you for joining me for the festive countdown over the last four Sundays and for supporting my Anne Brontë (and family) blog throughout many years and many hundreds of posts now. It means so much to me! It’s time to light the final Advent (Anne-vent) candle with a special item befitting this most special of days!

Victorian Christmas card

Pets are for life, of course, and not just for Christmas, but there’s no denying that there are few things in life that add greater value and happiness than having a four legged companion of some kind. Anne Brontë thought so, and she was especially close to her beloved spaniel Flossy. Flossy was a gift from the Robinson girls that she was governess for at Thorp Green Hall near York, and this most thoughtful gift shows how much they loved Anne and how successful she was in her job. Flossy was painted by Emily Brontë and Anne sketched herself and Flossy together as shown below:

Today’s Advent candle, however, is represented by the following two paintings that Anne made, and which show the love that she and Flossy shared!

Flossy by Anne Bronte

Unfinished Flossy by Anne Bronte

Both pictures are unfinished, which perhaps showed that Flossy wasn’t the best at sitting still in a window (indeed Charlotte Brontë later commented how much Flossy loved chasing across the moors after sheep). In one painting Anne made a lot of progress on Flossy’s body, and in the other she made a very detailed study of Flossy’s head but the body is far from finished. I’ve often thought how wonderful it would be if we could somehow combine the two, so with a little technical jiggery-pokery that’s exactly what I’ve done as a Christmas gift to you all. Here then is my completed Flossy with more than a little help from Anne Brontë!

As you know I never charge for this blog and never have adverts, and I never will. It’s a labour of love that I’m happy to share with Brontë lovers across the globe. You may also know that as well as writing books and blogs about the Brontës I also work for the wonderful The Sheffield Cats Shelter. I therefore give you this link to our Christmas appeal; if any of you can donate anything to help our cats and kittens in need it would be my very best Christmas present, thank you! https://justgiving.com/campaign/catsatchristmas

Not five but two gold rings – the collars of Flossy and Keeper

I leave you now, as has become my tradition, with Anne Brontë’s poem set on this very day. May you and your loved ones have a very Happy Christmas, and to all of you missing a special someone on this day I send my sincerest love and best wishes – a family of Brontë lovers worldwide is thinking of you and is with you in spirit, just as your loved ones are. I leave you now, until next week’s New Year post, with Anne Brontë’s ‘Music On Christmas Morning’:

Music I love – but never strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine –
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne.
Though Darkness still her empire keep,
And hours must pass, ere morning break;
From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep,
That music kindly bids us wake:
It calls us, with an angel’s voice,
To wake, and worship, and rejoice;
To greet with joy the glorious morn,
Which angels welcomed long ago,
When our redeeming Lord was born,
To bring the light of Heaven below;
The Powers of Darkness to dispel,
And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.
While listening to that sacred strain,
My raptured spirit soars on high;
I seem to hear those songs again
Resounding through the open sky,
That kindled such divine delight,
In those who watched their flocks by night.
With them, I celebrate His birth –
Glory to God, in highest Heaven,
Good-will to men, and peace on Earth,
To us a Saviour-king is given;
Our God is come to claim His own,
And Satan’s power is overthrown!
A sinless God, for sinful men,
Descends to suffer and to bleed;
Hell must renounce its empire then;
The price is paid, the world is freed,
And Satan’s self must now confess,
That Christ has earned a Right to bless:
Now holy Peace may smile from heaven,
And heavenly Truth from earth shall spring:
The captive’s galling bonds are riven,
For our Redeemer is our king;
And He that gave his blood for men
Will lead us home to God again.

Haworth Christmas pillar portrait
Happy Christmas from me, Anne, Emily, Branwell and Charlotte – to you all!

Anne Brontë Advent: Week Three – Friendships

Time flies, as the Brontës knew only too well, and can you believe that we are just one week away from Christmas Day 2022? I hope that you have everything well in hand for the big day, and that you’ll find time to relax with a good book in the week ahead. Whatever your beliefs, Christmas is surely a time for love, family and friendship – and it’s friendship which is at the heart of today’s third Anne-vent candle.

Roe Head school at Mirfield saw Charlotte, Emily (briefly) and Anne pass through its doors as pupils, and Charlotte also took up teaching duties there. Charlotte and Anne both excelled as pupils at the school, which was far removed from the deadly Cowan Bridge school which Charlotte and Emily had earlier attended, and which would be immortalised as the ‘Lowood’ of Jane Eyre. Both Charlotte and Anne received medals for their good conduct and performance whilst at Roe Head: here’s the medal presented to Charlotte Brontë, on the front it says ’emulation’ and on the reverse it says ‘rewarded’:

It is not this medal, however, which represents today’s Anne Brontë-related Advent candle. It is this prayer book which belonged to Charlotte at Roe Head school, and which made what I think were rather misleading headlines recently when a faint pencil written inscription was discovered inside it:

Ann Cook prayerbook
Ann Cook’s pencilled inscription on Charlotte Bronte’s prayer book

The inscription reads ‘Pray don’t forget my my sweet little thing, A.C.’ and the speculation at the time was that it was from a pupil of Charlotte’s named Ann Cook – which in turn brought speculation as to the propriety of their relationship. When we look just a little closer, however, it seems clear to me that this is a touching token of friendship intended for someone else who was a Roe Head pupil at the time: Anne Brontë.

The key to unlocking this mystery comes in a letter Ellen Nussey sent to Elizabeth Gaskell at the time she was writing her brilliant biography of Charlotte Brontë. Ellen writes:

“I enclose also a notice which dear C. made in a letter on the death of a young lady who was a pupil at the time Anne Brontë was at school, a pupil who attached herself to Anne B. and Anne bestowed upon her a great deal of quiet affection and genial notice. I think the young ladies friends would most probably be gratified if dear C.’s comments on the deceased were inserted. They are monied and influential people in the neighbourhood, some of them not very friendly to Currer Bell’s emanations. Would they not be won by her kindly thought of one of their own?”

This wealthy young lady who died tragically young was Ann Cook, daughter of wealthy and influential Dewsbury industrialist Thomas Cook, and so it seems to me that the message in the prayerbook was not for Charlotte but another who young Ann Cook knew would use and see it – her beloved school friend Anne Brontë.

We have evidence that Charlotte Brontë made a friend whilst a teacher at the Pensionnat Heger in Brussels years later, although you might not think so from Charlotte’s Belgium-based novels The Professor and Villette which hardly paint a glowing picture of Belgian schools and society. It is from a teacher known to us as Mademoiselle Sophie, and here it is translated from its original French – written 179 years ago yesterday:

A pencilled inscription and a letter sent at Christmas-time, both testaments to friends that the Brontës made and therefore perfect representations of today’s Advent candle. I have been closing these Advent posts with Anne Brontë poetry, but I choose instead today a poem inspired by Anne Brontë. Written by Emily Brontë it uses imagery especially prevalent at this time of year to look at the supremacy, in Emily’s eyes, of friendship over love. Emily loved one person more than any other, her closest friend and younger sister Anne Brontë. I leave you with ‘Love And Friendship’ and hope to see you next Sunday, on Christmas Day itself, for another new Brontë blog post and the ‘lighting’ of our final Advent candle.

Love and friendship

Anne Brontë Advent: Week Two

With just two weeks until Christmas Day itself it’s time to ensure that the festive preparations are well under way. One lovely tradition that many still indulge is the making of Christmas cake – and of course you have to start those preparations early to ensure that it gets thoroughly doused in booze of one kind or another. As daughters of the village priest the Brontë siblings would have had to distribute this cake among parishioners, and here (from the rather lovely book The Brontës’ Christmas) is a traditional recipe from the time:

Our preparations here at annebronte.org involve lighting a second Advent candle today, so today’s Anne-vent offering is one of the very first pieces of ‘writing’ we have from Anne. It wasn’t created by pencil, quill or dip pen – it was created through the art of needlework. Here then is today’s candle – the sampler made by Anne Brontë to mark her tenth birthday.

Anne has handily dated it the 23rd of January 1830, meaning that she completed it six days after her milestone birthday, although she may have commenced her work on the big day itself. In case you don’t know what a sampler is, they were needlework creations designed to showcase the skill of the young person making it. They typically included a self-chosen quotation from the Bible, and often had the alphabet and numbers at the start or end, with an elaborate border around the perimeter.

Samplers like Anne’s were an important rite of passage for lower middle-class children like the Brontës. Working class children were faced with a life of danger and drudgery from an early age, whilst upper and upper-middle class children were prepared for a life of luxury and leadership from an early age. Girls who, like the Brontës, dwelt in the social strata between these extremes were destined for two possible careers: being a teacher or a governess, until such time as they became wives and mothers. It was essential therefore that they could sew and teach others to sew, so the sampler became a way to hone their skills and demonstrate it to others.

Anne, as we have seen before in this blog and in my books such as In Search Of Anne Brontë and Crave The Rose: Anne Brontë At 200 was the most successful Brontë in terms of employment. She was governess to the Robinson family of Thorp Green Hall for over five years, a term far longer than sisters Charlotte and Emily managed, and was much loved by the children in her care. She was also the most deeply devout of the Brontë siblings, so even by the age of ten she would have been very familiar with the scriptures. It is a beautiful choice that Anne has selected for her sampler, one of the most poetic sections of the Old Testament, and I particularly like: ‘She is more precious than rubies, and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her.’

Samplers were created throughout a girl’s schooling, so let’s see a bonus sampler from Anne – this time an even earlier example, made by an eight year old Anne in November 1828. This is the very earliest thing created by Anne Brontë in existence today, and already we see a theme which will recur in The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall: ‘It is better to trust in the Lord than put confidence in man.’

Anne Bronte's sampler

Anne’s needlework is very impressive for an eight year old, especially by today’s standards of course, but there are a number of errors in this sampler? How many can you spot? (here’s a starter: Anne has missed 16 out and jumped from 15 to 17). By the sampler at the top of the post the errors had disappeared – Anne Brontë was never scared of hard work.

I leave you now with another beautiful poem by Anne. As we are looking at early work by the youngest Brontë, I present to you the very earliest extant poem by her: ‘Verses by Lady Geralda’, written by Anne when she was 16 years old and set in Gondal, the fictional land created by herself and Emily Brontë. It’s a suitably wintry poem, and it was written in December 1836. I hope to see you next week as we light our third Anne-vent candle with another new Brontë blog post.

“Why, when I hear the stormy breath
Of the wild winter wind
Rushing o’er the mountain heath,
Does sadness fill my mind?
For long ago I loved to lie
Upon the pathless moor,
To hear the wild wind rushing by
With never ceasing roar;
Its sound was music then to me;
Its wild and lofty voice
Made by heart beat exultingly
And my whole soul rejoice.
But now, how different is the sound?
It takes another tone,
And howls along the barren ground
With melancholy moan.
Why does the warm light of the sun
No longer cheer my eyes?
And why is all the beauty gone
From rosy morning skies?
Beneath this lone and dreary hill
There is a lovely vale;
The purling of a crystal rill,
The sighing of the gale,
The sweet voice of the singing bird,
The wind among the trees,
Are ever in that valley heard;
While every passing breeze
Is loaded with the pleasant scent
Of wild and lovely flowers.
To yonder vales I often went
To pass my evening hours.
Last evening when I wandered there
To soothe my weary heart,
Why did the unexpected tear
From my sad eyelid start?
Why did the trees, the buds, the stream
Sing forth so joylessly?
And why did all the valley seem
So sadly changed to me?
I plucked a primrose young and pale
That grew beneath a tree
And then I hastened from the vale
Silent and thoughtfully.
Soon I was near my lofty home,
But when I cast my eye
Upon that flower so fair and lone
Why did I heave a sigh?
I thought of taking it again
To the valley where it grew.
But soon I spurned that thought as vain
And weak and childish too.
And then I cast that flower away
To die and wither there;
But when I found it dead today
Why did I shed a tear?
O why are things so changed to me?
What gave me joy before
Now fills my heart with misery,
And nature smiles no more.
And why are all the beauties gone
From this my native hill?
Alas! my heart is changed alone:
Nature is constant still.
For when the heart is free from care,
Whatever meets the eye
Is bright, and every sound we hear
Is full of melody.
The sweetest strain, the wildest wind,
The murmur of a stream,
To the sad and weary mind
Like doleful death knells seem.
Father! thou hast long been dead,
Mother! thou art gone,
Brother! thou art far away,
And I am left alone.
Long before my mother died
I was sad and lone,
And when she departed too
Every joy was flown.
But the world’s before me now,
Why should I despair?
I will not spend my days in vain,
I will not linger here!
There is still a cherished hope
To cheer me on my way;
It is burning in my heart
With a feeble ray.
I will cheer the feeble spark
And raise it to a flame;
And it shall light me through the world,
And lead me on to fame.
I leave thee then, my childhood’s home,
For all thy joys are gone;
I leave thee through the world to roam
In search of fair renown,
From such a hopeless home to part
Is happiness to me,
For nought can charm my weary heart
Except activity.”

Anne Brontë Advent: Week One

We head ever closer to the big day, and the chill in the air is certainly an indicator of things to come – let’s hope that Santa can afford to fuel his sleigh this year! I’ve decided to turn this December into an Anne Brontë Advent! Each Sunday I’ll ‘light’ an Anne Brontë advent candle by focusing on one wonderful Anne Brontë related item, and I’ll finish each post with an Anne Brontë poem. The fourth and final Anne-vent candle will be lit on Christmas day itself, so it’s time to light our first candle with our new Brontë blog post.

This rather beautiful necklace is made of carnelian, an orangey-red mineral belonging to the chalcedony family. Its vivid colour has long made it a popular choice for jewellery and it must have been a favourite of Anne’s for it was she who wore this necklace made of it.

How do we know that Anne wore this necklace? The answer to that is what makes this Anne Brontë treasure so special, and a fitting choice to represent our first blog candle of this Advent period. A 13 year old Anne is pictured wearing this very necklace in the sketch by her elder sister Charlotte Brontë which can be seen above the necklace itself.

This is one of a number of jewellery items once belonging to Anne Brontë within the Brontë Parsonage Museum Collection. Anne clearly liked beautiful things, and it is perhaps this which also inspired her love of collecting pebbles and brightly coloured stones from Scarborough beach. Perhaps this love was passed down from her Aunt Branwell? Elizabeth Branwell was very close to Anne in many ways, and they shared a bedroom throughout Anne’s childhood years. We know that Elizabeth habitually wore plain, dark clothing (probably because she preferred to spend her money on her nephew and nieces) but she also had a love of beautiful objects, as can be seen from some of the Aunt Branwell items which now form part of the museum collection in Haworth.

It seems likely to me that these items reminded Aunt Branwell of her younger years in her beloved Cornwall, a subject she never tired of. Ellen Nussey went so far as to state that Aunt Branwell liked nothing more than talking about the ‘gaieties of her native town’, so we can be sure that she often discussed them with her favourite niece Anne. It’s not a huge leap to surmise that it was from these early talks that Anne Brontë developed the love of the sea and the love of beautiful items and jewellery which we see in her later life.

Elizabeth Branwell and Arthur Nicholls
Elizabeth Branwell and Arthur Bell Nicholls

It’s fitting to mention Elizabeth Branwell, for we reached the 246th anniversary of her birth this week. She was born on 2nd December 1776, and this date also marks the passing of Arthur Bell Nicholls, widower of Charlotte Brontë, who died on 2nd December 1906. Two people who were vital to the Brontë story, and yet whose shared anniversary is 130 years apart.

Many of us are facing challenges this Christmas, whether emotionally, physically or financially. Nevertheless, I hope this Advent period proves a happy one for you and your loved ones, and I hope you can join me again next week for another new Brontë blog post and the lighting of our second Anne-vent calendar. I leave you now with one of Anne Brontë’s finest poems, and one with a suitably wintry setting: ‘The Student’s Serenade.’

The Student's Serenade Anne Bronte
‘The Student’s Serenade’ by Anne Bronte

Obituaries Of Ellen Nussey, Great Friend Of The Brontës

Exactly 125 years ago yesterday the death occurred of a woman central to the Brontë story: Ellen Nussey. Ellen Nussey was the best friend of Charlotte Brontë, and also a close friend of Anne Brontë and (probably uniquely) Emily Brontë. It was Ellen who travelled to Scarborough with Charlotte and Anne in 1849, and she who carried the dying Anne downstairs on her final day. Charlotte later sent Ellen this brooch and necklace made from Anne Brontë’s hair to remember her by:

Ellen Nussey’s later years saw her working tirelessly to preserve and promote the Brontë legacy. She hoped to leave Charlotte Brontë’s letters to a national museum, or to turn them into a book, but she instead fell victim to fraudsters who ‘borrowed’ the letters and then sold them to collectors overseas. Nevertheless, it is thanks to Ellen Nussey keeping hundreds of Charlotte’s letters that we know so much about the Brontë family. Charlotte herself paid this simple yet beautiful tribute to Ellen while she was alive, but we will follow it with reports of and obituaries for Ellen that came after her death, aged 80, on 26th November 2022. You will also see photographs of Ellen Nussey throughout this post.

Yorkshire Post, 27th November 1897, “Death Of Miss Ellen Nussey: Friend Of Charlotte Brontë”

‘The death took place yesterday at Moor Lane House, Gomersal, of Miss Ellen Nussey, the schoolmate and friend of Charlotte Brontë, at whose marriage she officiated as first bridesmaid. Miss Nussey, who was born at the Rydings, Birstall, lived in the neighbourhood all her life, and at her death was 83 years of age [born a year after Charlotte, she was in fact 80]. The authoress was in her fifteenth year when she met Ellen Nussey at Miss Wooler’s school at Roe Head, and the friendship was a case of love at first sight. In the following year Charlotte paid her first visit to the Rydings, and their acquaintance ripened during the assistant-teachership period which followed. It was not, however, until July, of 1836, that Miss Nussey visited Haworth; and it was two years later (her brother’s proposal of marriage rejected meanwhile [Henry Nussey had proposed to Charlotte]) that they paid a visit together to Mr. Hudson’s, at Easton, near Bridlington.

Six years passed before they had much converse again [in fact, as the letters show, they were in constant correspondence], and then Charlotte was at [Ellen’s home] Brookroyd; nor was there another important meeting until just before the marriage in 1854. Thus it cannot be said that in a friendship unbroken during 24 years they spent a great deal of time together. Nevertheless, it is to Miss Nussey that the public owe the greater part of their knowledge of Charlotte Brontë’s life. The friends kept up a correspondence, in which there were 370 of Charlotte’s letters. When she died and Mrs. Gaskell undertook to write the biography, these were placed in her hands; and her Life Of Charlotte Brontë contains extracts from more than 100 of them, although Miss Nussey’s name is not mentioned. Afterwards Sir Wemyss Reid had access to them, and lastly they were placed in the hands of Mr. Clement Shorter [one of the men who defrauded Ellen] for the preparation of his brilliant book on Charlotte Brontë And Her Circle. Mr. Shorter, indeed, seems to say that the book was begun at Miss Nussey’s suggestion…

Her own personality has always been modestly kept in the background; but one receives from the correspondence a strong impression of her homely good sense, affectionate nature, and admirable simplicity.’

We will pass over a number of inaccuracies in this obituary, except for the article’s assertion that there was no ‘important meeting’ between Ellen and Charlotte for 12 years between 1842 and 1854. In fact there were many visits between the two in those years – many of them hugely significant, including their month in Hathersage together which was pivotal to the creation of Jane Eyre and their 1849 journey together to Scarborough with Anne Brontë to be there with Anne at her passing – obviously not an ‘important’ event as far as the obituary writer was concerned. The same newspaper provided a more personal tribute to Ellen two days later:

Yorkshire Post, 29th November 1897, “A West Riding Lady’s Interview With Miss Nussey”

‘A West Riding lady sends us the following notes of a recent interview she had with the late Miss Nussey:

“Like thousands of your readers, I read with much regret the news of the death of the venerable Miss Nussey, so intimately associated with the Brontë family. Miss Nussey has been waited upon by many persons for literary purposes, but I believe an interview I had with her during the autumn just passed was the last she was able to grant. It was in a state of great nervousness that I found myself at the inner door of Moor Lane House, Gomersal. With my heart in my mouth I saw Miss Nussey come forward to the door. All nervousness, however, vanished under the charming manners of this gracious old lady. Taking me into the drawing-room, I noticed she wore an old-fashioned brown silk dress and a rather modish cap of black, and white silk over her thick white hair. A noticeable feature was her bright eyes when she removed her spectacles. One of the first questions Miss Nussey asked was, ‘What religion are you?’ ‘Church of England, and from a long line of Church-people,’ I replied. My answer gratified her, and I soon found that she was an ardent, nay a passionate Church-woman.

One of the chief objects of my visit was to obtain her opinion on a portion of a letter said to be written by Charlotte Brontë to a correspondent unknown to me and all others to whom the document had been shown. What I had with me was a photograph. Upon inspecting it she said, ‘Undoubtedly the original is Charlotte’s handwriting.’ She soon decided to whom the letter had been addressed – Miss Leah Brooke, of Aldams House, Dewsbury, a former schoolfellow. Miss Nussey gave some interesting particulars about the then girl and her relatives. This led to a chat about Charlotte’s god-parents,the Rev. Thomas Atkinson and his wife, he the successor of Charlotte’s father in the vicarage of Hartshead. In Charlotte’s childhood she was a frequent visitor at their home. There was no vicarage house at Hartshead in those days, and the pair, who loved Charlotte dearly, bore the expense of her education at Roe Head…

Speaking of the Rev. P. Brontë, Miss Nussey said he was very fond of horses and dogs, but not to the extent his girls were; also that in his later years he became somewhat boastful of his conquests with ladies, a failing which much annoyed Charlotte, and which she always tried to check. He was a high-spirited man, full of courage.

In connection with her correspondence with Charlotte, Miss Nussey said she had often been badly treated, and I quite agreed with her when she informed me of the circumstances. This led me to tell her I had heard something of the kind before, and that I had felt diffident about seeking an interview, but that at last I had yielded, the suggestion being that I should ‘beard the lioness in her den.’ She laughed heartily, and exclaimed, ‘That’s exactly what I am, a lioness. I have to be, because of the way I have been treated.’ To me she was all kindness, and the interview throughout seemed to be mutually satisfactory. We parted, but she called me again to the house door, and then with a nervous air said, ‘Remember! All who have anything to do with the Brontës have had great trouble.’

I parted from the venerable lady with much admiration for her mental powers and great manners.”’

Yorkshire Post, 29th November 1897, “Ellen Nussey’s Last Moments”

‘Up to the very last Miss Nussey retained possession of her intellectual faculties. She had been ill for seven weeks with pleurisy, but on Thursday she was able to sit up a little. She was conversing quietly with her lady companion when the end came next day. A sudden spasm, and the long life was over.’

Ellen Nussey, aged 65

London Illustrated News, 4th December 1897

Yorkshire Post, 1st December 1897, “The Funeral Of Miss Ellen Nussey”

‘The funeral of Miss Ellen Nussey, the friend of Charlotte Brontë, took place yesterday in St. Peter’s Churchyard, Birstall. The weather was very inclement, and there was consequently not a very large attendance. The Brontë Society sent a wreath and was represented at the funeral.’

This photo hangs on my wall, I believe it to be the last picture of Ellen Nussey.

It’s sad that such a long life should end with few mourners at her funeral (St Peter’s church at Birstall, where she lies, is at the head of this post), just as Ellen herself had been one of only three mourners at the funeral of someone who lived a far shorter life: Anne Brontë. I hope to see you next week for another new Brontë blog post, and in the meantime I leave you with a final obituary which really sums up who Ellen Nussey was. Thank you Ellen Nussey from all Brontë lovers, and for always being a kind and generous woman to those who needed it most.