Brontëdle

On this week in 1847 a new author made their writing debut. Published by Smith, Jones & Co. the book Jane Eyre: An Autobiography marked the first appearance before the public of the mysterious Currer Bell. Nobody knew who Bell was or where he had come from, including his own publisher, but the reading public, if not necessarily all the critics, soon agreed that he had written a very excellent book indeed. Two centuries later the reading public still agrees with that, although we now know of course that Mr Currer Bell was in fact Miss Charlotte Brontë.

The precise date of the publication is unknown, but it is generally thought to be on the 16th October 1848 as Elizabeth Gaskell wrote that the date of publication of Jane Eyre was ‘no later than 16th October’. What we do know for sure is that three days later on the 19th October Charlotte received her six free author copies – and what a proud moment that must have been to her. Here is Charlotte’s letter thanking her publisher:

This day was a triumph for great storytelling, a triumph for literature, but it was also a triumph over adversity. Jane Eyre was written in a time of mental and physical darkness for Charlotte. Her first written novel The Professor had been rejected by every single publisher it was sent to, whilst at the same time her sisters Emily and Anne had their novels Wuthering Heights and Agnes Grey accepted. This must have sown great doubts in Charlotte’s mind: she was the older sister, it was she who had always led their writing endeavours, but could it be that whilst her sisters were talented writers she was not?

At the same time, Charlotte had accompanied her father to Manchester where her father Patrick had received eye surgery to restore his sight. Elizabeth Gaskell recalled the scene as recounted to her by Charlotte:

“Among the dispiriting circumstances connected with her anxious visit to Manchester, Charlotte told me that her tale came back upon her hands, curtly 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 Professor return again to try his chance among the London publishers, but she began, in this time of care and depressing 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 genius begin Jane Eyre.”

Charlotte’s publisher George Smith recounted the effect that receipt of Charlotte’s manuscript had upon him and his assistant W. S. Williams. Smith began reading it in his stately London mansion on Sunday morning, cancelled his lunch, cancelled a meeting and read it all in one day. It was published just as quickly, and in fact it reached the shops and circulating libraries before Emily and Anne Brontë’s work had yet been published.

A little over a week after its publication it was clear that Jane Eyre and Currer Bell were an overnight success. Even Charlotte’s hero William Makepeace Thackeray had read the novel and approved of it, as we see from a letter Charlotte, still hiding behind her Currer Bell nom de plume, sent to William Smith Williams:

Typically modest, and typically full of self-doubt, Charlotte ended her letter hoping that the novel would be a success, and ascribing any success that did accrue not to herself but to the efforts her publisher had made! 

Elizabeth Gaskell was right, as she was on so many things connected to her great friend: Charlotte Brontë had the heart of Robert the Bruce, she triumphed because she refused to give in. Let that be an example to us all, and I hope to see you next week for another new Brontë blog post.

Charlotte Brontë is associated with many places – Haworth obviously springs to mind, as does Thornton, the birthplace of the Brontës near Bradford, Scarborough where she travelled with Anne Brontë at the close of Anne’s life, and Brussels, where she went to school. In today’s post we look at another location Charlotte Brontë enjoyed, but one whose association with Charlotte is today little known: Hornsea.

On this very day in 1853 Charlotte Brontë was making her way home after spending a week in Hornsea, the then fashionable resort in the East Riding of Yorskshire, 15 miles northeast of Hull. It expanded greatly after 1864 when the railway arrived in Hornsea, but at the time Charlotte visited a decade earlier it was still very popular among the middle and upper classes who came to seek out its healing waters.

Like Bridlington and Scarborough further up along the east coast, Hornsea had a spa which attracted those who could afford to luxuriate and recuperate there. Charlotte Brontë, however, did not come to Hornsea for the spa but to see one of her oldest friends: Margaret Wooler. Miss Wooler, as Charlotte always respectfully called her, had been Charlotte Brontë’s teacher, then employer and then enduring friend. By 1848 as well as the home in Gomersal which Margaret shared with her sisters she also had a retirement home in Hornsea at which she spent her summers until cold weather sent her back to the West Riding again.
Margaret’s Hornsea abode was 4 Swiss Cottage, now known as 94 Newbegin. Thanks to the power of Google Maps above is a picture of that very building in modern times, hidden behind a vast hedge, and it was here that Charlotte Brontë stayed in October 1853. Hornsea Museum now lies opposite this house. At the time it was home to the Burns family, and in the local paper it advertised that “hot water sea-showers” were available in an adjoining cowshed.

We know little of the day to day details of Charlotte’s visit, but it remained on Charlotte’s mind as two months later she wrote to Margaret:
“I did enjoy that week at Hornsea. I remember it with pleasure and I look forward to Spring as the period when you will fulfil your promise of coming to visit me. I fear you must be very solitary at Hornsea.”

We also have an account that Charlotte gave after arriving back in Haworth from Hornsea – and it reveals rather an eventful journey home on a coach that would take her from Hornsea to Hull train station before a train back to Keighley and from thence on via gig or on foot to Haworth:

That brings a whole new meaning to ‘homesick’. If only Charlotte had had access to those sea-water showers after alighting from the coach! Charlotte didn’t get the chance to return to Hornsea; Margaret did indeed visit Charlotte Brontë in Haworth in the following year, but she did so to give Charlotte away at her wedding to Arthur Bell Nicholls. There is no plaque to Charlotte Brontë in Hornsea today, but until recently she was remembered in a way unique to this rather lovely little town. Hornsea was famous across Britain and beyond for its pottery. Alas, Hornsea Pottery stopped production in 2000, but not before they had brought out a range of crockery bearing the name ‘Brontë’. I have some pieces of Hornsea Brontë-ware myself.

I think this range would have looked very much at home in the Brontë kitchen. I hope you can join me next week for another new Brontë blog post.

This Thursday saw National Poetry Day arrive. I think poetry is too good to confine to just one day, and I’m sure the Brontës would have agreed – after all poetry was their first, and enduring, love and the very first Brontë book was a collection of poetry put together by Charlotte, Emily and Anne: the pseudonymous Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell.

If you live in the United Kingdom you can’t have helped but notice that there is more than an autumnal hint in the air. There is a wuthering chill developing and it won’t be long until we are all saying “winter draws on”. I think it’s fitting therefore that in today’s post we celebrate national poetry day/week with one of Anne Brontë’s poems which celebrates this kind of weather.

‘Lines Composed In A Wood On A Windy Day’ was one of the 21 poems by Anne Brontë selected for inclusion within ‘Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell’. Anne is at long last gaining recognition as one of the finest novelists of the nineteenth century, but I think she deserves to be remembered as one of its finest poets as well, as this composition shows. Composed in December 1842, Anne was seized by the poetic muse as she walked through the Long Plantation woods to the north of Thorp Green Hall where she was then governess (that’s the hall above).

“My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring
And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;
For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,
The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;
The dead leaves, beneath them, are merrily dancing,
The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.
I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing
The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray;
I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing,
And hear the wild roar of their thunder today!”

Aunt Elizabeth Branwell is all too easily overlooked in the Brontë story, and yet she was pivotal to the incredible story of these incredible sisters. On a very human scale she stepped into the breach after her sister Maria’ untimely death and became almost a second mother to the young children in Haworth Parsonage; it was also Elizabeth’s legacy to Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë which gave them the financial freedom to pay for their first book to be published. In today’s post we will look at another vital role she played.

By 1841 the sisters had formed plans to open their own school, and former teacher and employer Margaret Wooler had offered Charlotte the opportunity to take over the Wooler school. Charlotte, however, had been struck by the romance of travel after hearing from friend Mary Taylor, then at school in Brussels. The plan was amended – Charlotte and Emily would now head overseas to learn new language skills, and then return to Haworth to set up their own school. One large problem, however, presented itself – how would they finance such an adventure? A letter sent from Charlotte Brontë to her aunt on this day in 1841 reveals the answer:

It is a diplomatic and carefully worded letter by Charlotte, calculated to appeal to Aunt Branwell’s generous nature. The appeal did not go in vain, and she did indeed pay for Charlotte and Emily to travel to Brussels and attend school there. Could any of them have known, when they embarked for Belgium in the following year, that it would be the last time the two sisters would see their benefactor?

Tragically Aunt Branwell died in October 1842 whilst Charlotte and Emily were in Brussels thanks to the money she had given them. She would never see the fruits of her generosity, but Charlotte’s time in Brussels surely led to The Professor, to Villette, even to Jane Eyre. Without Aunt Branwell I doubt there would be any Brontë books in existence today, and that’s certainly a lasting legacy to leave.

Talking of Branwell, in this week we also remember Branwell Brontë, who died on 24th September 1842. I hope you can join me again next Sunday for another new Brontë blog post.

On this day in 1849 Charlotte Brontë contacted her publishers after receiving the initial payment for her second published novel Shirley. In today’s post we’ll look at just how much she was paid, and at an unfortunate error made on the cheque, or bank bills as they were called then, itself.

We know that Charlotte originally received payment on 14th September 1849, as she wrote this effusive letter to publisher George Smith on receipt of the bank bill:

It was over a week later, however, that Charlotte realised that all was not as it should be with the bank bill, as we say in her letter to Smith of 22nd September 1849:

“I return the Bank-Bill, endorsed as you direct.t My Christian name is Charlotte – not Caroline – and it is my only Christian name.

It seems to me that I cannot do better than leave the business in your hands which I do in entire confidence that you will make the best arrangement you can for me. If you would receive the dividends at the Bank, it would of course be to me a great additional convenience.

Should my Railway Shares again rise to par. (which is more than doubtful) I would sell out, and should then be enabled to place a few hundreds more in the Funds – but on this – I must not calculate.

The thought of laying a foundation for a future independency gives me a certain pleasure, and to my father it gives very great pleasure, but you will understand me when I say that I hope never to allow it to become more than a very subordinate motive for writing: I will not permit it to hurry my pen: if I did both you and the Public would soon tire of me, and certainly I should cease to respect myself.

You shall be spared thanks since you do not like them, but believe me, Yours Very Sincerely, C Brontë

Perhaps you will be kind enough to notify the safe arrival of the Bank-Bill. It has just struck me that perhaps I have done wrong to write Charlotte Bronté on the back while Caroline Bronté is written on the face – will it make any difference?”

Perhaps Smith had Charlotte’s novel on his mind when he wrote out the bank bill to his star author, for whilst Shirley Keeldar is the eponymous heroine it is her friend Caroline Helstone who truly dominates the novel? The error must have been corrected, for we know that Smith did invest the money for Charlotte as she recorded: “£500 the price of the copyright of ‘Shirley’ invested in the Funds Oct 1849”. A letter entry by Charlotte records: “£521 17s 6d. The proceeds of the sale of Railway Shares – invested January 1853.” We see then that this investment on the railways led to a profit, whereas we know that an earlier investment made by Emily Brontë fell foul to the collapse of railway shares linked to George Hudson, the infamous ‘Railway King.’

Charlotte pronounced herself ‘rather proud of its amount’ upon receiving her bank bill, and she had received the same amount on the sale of Jane Eyre to Smith, Elder two years earlier. On top of this Charlotte’s books sold well in her lifetime, and she received frequent and sizeable royalty payments.

Just how much was this £500 worth? If we take it on purely inflationary terms, using RPI, then the Measuring Worth website says £500 in 1849 would be worth £65,510 today. However it also explains that this doesn’t show the true value of the money, as money simply went much further in those days when there were no outgoings such as car and fuel bills and the holiday and leisure costs which are so common today. If we also take into account average earnings at this time, then Measuring Worth says that £500 then was actually the equivalent of between £496,800 and £729,100. Not a bad return, but richly deserved for an author of Charlotte’s genius. Alas, the tragic death of her sisters in 1848 and 1849 meant that Emily and Anne never saw the rewards that their work deserved, although Charlotte herself did eventually receive royalties from their novels too.

Under the circumstances, Charlotte was wise not to be too concerned that her publisher had taken to calling her Caroline Brontë! As you know, I don’t monetise this blog in any way, it’s purely a labour of love – so I will never need to worry how much my zero pounds today will be worth in 175 years time! I hope to see you again next week for another new Brontë blog post.

In this blog we look at the life and works of Anne Brontë and her remarkable family. I try to focus on the positive aspects of their story, but of course we all know that they had more than their fair share of tragedy to deal with too – so in today’s post we look at one of the saddest events of all that happened exactly 203 years ago today.

When Patrick Brontë moved to Yorkshire in 1809 to be assistant curate to Reverend John Buckworth of Dewsbury he could little realise how much his life would change. Three years later he met Penzance born Maria Branwell, who had travelled to Yorkshire from Cornwall, and within months they were married. There then followed a succession of six children at regular intervals, concluding with the birth of Anne Brontë in January 1820.

Three months after Anne’s birth the family moved to a new parish in Haworth, and their future looked bright indeed, but just a year after the move Patrick’s world came crashing down. He recalled the events in a letter sent to his old friend and employer John Buckworth on 27th November 1821:

“I was at Haworth, a stranger in a strange land. It was under these circumstances, after every earthly prop was removed, that I was called on to bear the weight of the greatest load of sorrows that ever pressed upon me. One day, I remember it well; it was a gloomy day, a day of clouds and darkness, three of my little children were taken ill of scarlet fever; and, the day after, the remaining three were in the same condition. Just at that time death seemed to have laid his hand on my dear wife in a manner which threatened her speedy dissolution. She was cold and silent and seemed hardly to notice what was passing around her.

At the earliest opportunity I called in different medical gentlemen to visit the beloved sufferer; but all their skill was in vain … after above seven months of more agonizing pain than I ever saw anyone endure she fell asleep in Jesus, and her soul took its flight to the mansions of glory …

Do you ask how I felt under all these circumstances? I would answer to this, that tender sorrow was my daily portion; that oppressive grief sometimes lay heavy on me and that there were seasons when an affectionate, agonizing something sickened my whole frame … And when my dear wife was dead and buried and gone, and when I missed her at every corner, and when her memory was hourly revived by the innocent yet distressing prattle of my children, I do assure, my dear sir, from what I felt, I was happy at the recollection that to sorrow, not as those without hope, was no sin; that our Lord himself had wept over his departed friend, and that he had promised us grace and strength sufficient for such a day.”

Maria Brontë died on 15th September 1821. It is often said that she died of uterine cancer, but in the 1970s eminent obstetrician and Brontë fan Professor Philip Rhodes said this was unlikely given the facts we knew about Maria’s demise. He instead concluded: “All in all, I would lean to the idea of chronic pelvic sepsis together with increasing anaemia as the probable cause of her death. It is to be remembered that this was before the age of bacteriological knowledge… Gynaecological knowledge was primitive, there was no ante-natal care and no attempt at follow-up after childbirth.”

It seems likely then, in a further tragic twist, that it was the aftermath of the birth of Anne Brontë that led to the death of her mother when Anne was just one year old (The header image of this post shows portraits of Maria and her daughter Anne.) This was a dark time for Patrick and his children, but Maria’s sister Elizabeth travelled from Cornwall to Haworth never to return to Penzance again. For over twenty years she was an unflinching comfort to Patrick, a financial support (she was undoubtedly one of the people who cleared the debts Patrick had amassed when seeking medical help for his wife), and almost a second mother to the Brontë children – particularly to baby Anne. In that same letter to Reverend Buckworth, Patrick explained:

“Her sister, Miss Branwell, arrived, and afforded great comfort to my mind, which has been the case ever since, by sharing my labours and sorrows, and behaving as an affectionate mother to my children.”

A tragic milestone in the Brontë story, but Maria’s legacy of love, and the selfless and steadfast support of her sister Elizabeth Branwell, is still remembered today. I hope to see you next week for another new Brontë blog post.

There are at least four known portraits of Anne Brontë. Three by Charlotte Brontë, and Anne also features on the far left of Branwell Brontë’s youthful portrait of his sisters. There is also a beautiful painting by Branwell which many consider to be of Emily, although I believe the evidence points to it being of Anne. In today’s post, however, we’re also going to consider whether there could be other portraits of Anne hiding in plain sight.

First we’ll begin with the known portraits of Anne – Branwell’s ‘pillar portrait’ (so called because he painted himself, or possibly his father, out behind a pillar) features at the head of this post. We now show Charlotte’s three portraits of Anne, finishing with a rather beautiful picture of her youngest sister beneath which Patrick Brontë has written, “Anne Brontë by my daughter Charlotte”:

So we see that Charlotte made at least three portraits of her youngest sister Anne, but we have no extant portraits by her of Branwell or Emily Brontë. Why should this be? I think the most likely explanation is that from a young age Anne was very patient and obliging – if asked to sit still for a portrait she would do so, whereas Emily and Branwell were less likely to be compliant. As Anne herself said, in her preface to the second edition of The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall, “I love to give innocent pleasure.”

Did Charlotte limit herself to just these three paintings of Anne, or could there be more? I believe that the following two compositions by Charlotte deserve close examination: from 1833 and 1834 respectively, so around the same time as Charlotte’s verified picture of Anne above, they seem to me to have at least a passing resemblance when it comes to the sitter.

And then we turn to Emily’s portraits. Emily was a very accomplished artist, perhaps the finest of all the Brontës (in fairness Emily excelled at all she turned her hand to). We have many beautiful portraits by Emily of animals and nature, but did she forego to paint a portrait of the sister she loved dearly – the sister with whom Ellen Nussey said Emily shared a twin-like existence? Or could Anne have provided an inspiration for Emily’s 1841 portrait of ‘Woman’s Head With A Tiara?’

Let’s turn again to Ellen Nussey’s description of Anne from around this time: “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.”

Do we get a glimpse of that appearance in the three images above? I believe so, and I believe that, even if they were completed as part of the sisters’ artistic studies, Anne Brontë was the likely model for them.

I hope you can join me next Sunday for another new Brontë blog post where we’ll paint another picture in the lives of our favourite writing sisters.

I’ve been visiting London again this week, and as always I stayed in Bankside on the south shore of the River Thames. It’s a great location, walked by the likes of Shakespeare, Dickens, Chaucer and many others – and across the Thames via the Millennium Bridge lies the majestic St. Paul’s Cathedral designed by Sir Christopher Wren.

It’s been a breathtaking sight for over four centuries now, and whilst I stay across the river from it, the Brontë sisters stayed in the very shadow of St. Paul’s, as I hope to show in today’s post. The London location favoured by the Brontës was the Chapter Coffee House.

By the time the Brontës stayed in the coffee house (which also served as a guest house) it already had a fine literary reputation as it had served as a late eighteenth century meeting point for writers like Oliver Goldsmith, Samuel Johnson and Thomas Chatterton. There’s a more likely reason why it became the London residence of the Brontës however: its proximity to St. Paul’s.

The streets around this area show its ecclesiastical influence, with names such as Amen Corner and Ave Maria Lane. It is likely that the Chapter Coffee House was in extensive use by members of the clergy visiting St. Paul’s and that this was how it came to the attention of Reverend Patrick Brontë. Patrick visited it in 1842, with his daughters Charlotte and Emily Brontë, a year before this picture of the house was made:

At this time Patrick was accompanying his daughters en route to them entering school in Brussels. He helpfully drew a map of the area, and marked the location of the Chapter Coffee House upon it:

Charlotte returned to London in 1848, and this time it was her youngest sister Anne Brontë with her. They had journeyed to the capital in some haste after receiving a letter implying that the Bell brothers (Currer, Ellis and Acton) were one and the same person. So rapidly did they travel that they had given no thought to where they might stay when they arrived in London in the early hours of a Saturday morning. Charlotte later recalled how they ordered a horse drawn cab to take them and their luggage to the Chapter Coffee House simply because it was the only place in London she knew.

But just where is, or was, the Chapter Coffee House? It’s not there now, but the area around St. Paul’s was badly damaged during the Ritz and I believe that the Chapter Coffee House burned down during the war. I also believe that we can still see where the house once stood, and explain why in this video I made:

A transcript of the video follows here: “I’m here in St Paul’s Churchyard in search of the location of the Chapter Coffee House. The Chapter Coffee House was destroyed by fire during World War II. It’s here that Charlotte and Anne Brontë stayed in London in 1848 in a few days that changed literary history forever. So behind me is St Paul’s Cathedral and in this direction is Ave Maria Lane. Behind me is St Paul’s Alley. These were all marked on Patrick Brontë’s map and behind me through there is Paternoster Row where the Chapter Coffee House was.

Now this gap behind me was caused by the destruction during the blitz of World War II. I believe this is the very spot where the Chapter Coffee House stood and where Charlotte and Anne Brontë stayed. And now right next to it we have a coffee house, Paul’s Coffee House. I believe this is the Brontë’s home in London.”

After posting this on my Twitter account (where I tweet daily about the Brontes) I received some validation from the staff of St. Paul’s Cathedral itself:

When we walk in the shadow of St. Paul’s we walk in the footsteps of Charlotte, Emily and ANne Brontë, and I recommend it to anyone who visits London. I’m back in Yorkshire now, and hope you can join me next Sunday for another new Brontë blog post.

The whole world knows that the three writing Brontë sisters (Charlotte Brontë, Emily Brontë and Anne Brontë) were authors and poets of the finest quality – geniuses whose novels are still read and adapted across the world over 200 years after their births. They were also excellent artists, along with their brother Branwell Brontë, and showed prodigious talent from an early age. In today’s Brontë blog post we are looking at the early art of Anne Brontë.

Art was something that Anne Brontë excelled at, and something she loved – and we’ll look at some evidence of this to be found in one of her novels later. Coming from a lower middle class background (their father’s position as a Church of England priest was completely respectable, but they had little money and no property of their own), there were two obvious career paths that presented themselves to the young Brontë girls: teacher or governess. 

For this reason, from an early age they would have been taught the essential skills that they would pass on to their future pupils; needlework (which we know was taught by their Aunt Branwell) and artwork would have been especially prized. A letter from Charlotte Brontë to her father Patrick sent in 1829 (when she was 13 and Anne 9) reveals how the siblings (at the time on a visit to their Uncle Fennell in the nearby parish of Crosspool) spent their time drawing and painting:

“Branwell has taken two sketches from nature, and Emily, Anne and myself, have likewise each of us drawn a piece from some views of the lakes which Mr Fennell brought with him from Westmoreland.”

We see then that the Brontës were copying artworks, and also sketching from nature. It is from this period in time that we have this drawing of a church surrounded by trees by Anne Brontë. She has kindly dated it for us, so that we can see that Anne was just eight years old when she completed this:

No doubt noticing his girls’ talents for art, and always keen to encourage their learning and creativity, Patrick Brontë arranged for his daughters to have formal art lessons from John Bradley of Keighley. Bradley was an established local artist of some talent, although he wasn’t usually an art teacher so it’s possible that Bradley taught the girls as a favour to his friend Patrick.

These lessons helped the Brontës’ art flourish, so that by the age of just 16 years old Anne Brontë had produced this sublime image entitled ‘Man With A Dog Before A Villa.’:

We know that Anne continued to draw and paint throughout her all too short life, and I think it’s safe to say that she did that not only by necessity during her years as a governess, but also because she greatly enjoyed creating works of art. After all, in her second novel The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall what career does Anne choose for her heroine Helen to pursue? She is a professional artist as we see from the opening of chapter five when Gilbert and Rose make their first visit to Wildfell Hall’s new tenant:

‘It was about the close of the month, that, yielding at length to the urgent importunities of Rose, I accompanied her in a visit to Wildfell Hall. To our surprise, we were ushered into a room where the first object that met the eye was a painter’s easel, with a table beside it covered with rolls of canvas, bottles of oil and varnish, palette, brushes, paints, &c. Leaning against the wall were several sketches in various stages of progression, and a few finished paintings—mostly of landscapes and figures.

“I must make you welcome to my studio,” said Mrs. Graham; “there is no fire in the sitting-room to-day, and it is rather too cold to show you into a place with an empty grate.”

And disengaging a couple of chairs from the artistical lumber that usurped them, she bid us be seated, and resumed her place beside the easel—not facing it exactly, but now and then glancing at the picture upon it while she conversed, and giving it an occasional touch with her brush, as if she found it impossible to wean her attention entirely from her occupation to fix it upon her guests. It was a view of Wildfell Hall, as seen at early morning from the field below, rising in dark relief against a sky of clear silvery blue, with a few red streaks on the horizon, faithfully drawn and coloured, and very elegantly and artistically handled.

“I see your heart is in your work, Mrs. Graham,” observed I: “I must beg you to go on with it; for if you suffer our presence to interrupt you, we shall be constrained to regard ourselves as unwelcome intruders.”

“Oh, no!” replied she, throwing her brush on to the table, as if startled into politeness. “I am not so beset with visitors but that I can readily spare a few minutes to the few that do favour me with their company.”

“You have almost completed your painting,” said I, approaching to observe it more closely, and surveying it with a greater degree of admiration and delight than I cared to express. “A few more touches in the foreground will finish it, I should think. But why have you called it Fernley Manor, Cumberland, instead of Wildfell Hall, ——shire?” I asked, alluding to the name she had traced in small characters at the bottom of the canvas.

But immediately I was sensible of having committed an act of impertinence in so doing; for she coloured and hesitated; but after a moment’s pause, with a kind of desperate frankness, she replied:—

“Because I have friends—acquaintances at least—in the world, from whom I desire my present abode to be concealed; and as they might see the picture, and might possibly recognise the style in spite of the false initials I have put in the corner, I take the precaution to give a false name to the place also, in order to put them on a wrong scent, if they should attempt to trace me out by it.”

“Then you don’t intend to keep the picture?” said I, anxious to say anything to change the subject.

“No; I cannot afford to paint for my own amusement.”

“Mamma sends all her pictures to London,” said Arthur; “and somebody sells them for her there, and sends us the money.”’

When we look at the novels, poetry and art of the Brontë sisters we cannot help but be in awe of their talent and genius, and Anne deserves to be considered just as much of a genius as her sisters Charlotte and Anne. I hope you can join me next week for another new Brontë blog post.

The Brontës hold a fascination for people the world over thanks to the unique combination of their magnificent literature and their fascinating, at times tragic, lives. Charlotte Brontë was still alive when the first literary pilgrims began making their way to Haworth, and in the many decades since the interest has only grown – and so has the value of anything associated with the Brontës. In today’s post we’re going to look at some of the astonishing bargains that Brontë lovers were able to pick up in the last century.

In my recent visit to the Brontë Parsonage Museum in Haworth I saw many items which were new to their display because they had once formed part of the private Honresfield Library Collection. There had been fears that its treasures would be lost to the nation forever, but thanks to public support and some very generous donors led by Sir Len Blavatnik the collection was bought and then gifted back to the nation. The cost of this collection? A cool £15 million, but just a century ago similar treasures could be picked up at a series of auctions for rather less; they could also be found in rather unusual circumstances, as this 1933 report from the Sunderland Daily Echo shows:

There are still undoubtedly Brontë treasures hidden away yet to be discovered, so if you ever buy an old book do give it a good examination. The bulk of Brontë items on display around the world today, however, have a known provenance. Many came from Haworth Parsonage itself and were among lots auctioned off after the deaths of Charlotte and then Patrick Brontë. Others have passed down from collections that once belonged to Charlotte’s widower Arthur Bell Nicholls, her best friend Ellen Nussey and from the long standing parsonage servant Martha Brown. Still others, rather more sadly, have their origins in the many letters and items that were tricked out of Ellen Nussey by unscrupulous conmen and then sold to wealthy Brontë collectors in America and beyond. One such letter was coming up for auction in 1937, as we see from the following Yorkshire Post report:

It’s interesting to see that five years earlier in 1932, there had been an auction of Charlotte Brontë’s childhood ephemera and “a batch of her schoolgirl stories and verses, written on small scraps of paper.” These sold for £1884. Today we would recognise them as one of her tiny books, and attach a value approaching six figures or more.

We now turn to the Bradford Daily Telegraph of December 16th 1916. Across the sea in France and Flanders, World War One is raging – and the newspaper carries pictures of local men killed or wounded in action. The Battle Of The Somme has recently ended, but smaller tragedies continue across the Western Front. Meanwhile, away from the trenches and tear gas, away from the death and dull despair, away from the senseless savagery and selfless sacrifices the wider world continues much as before – including an auction of Brontë items reported on below:

This large collection of items were from the estates of Mary Anna Bell Nicholls, who had recently died and who had been the second wife of Arthur Bell Nicholls, and from the estate of Brontë collector J. H. Dixon. Among the incredible bargains to be had that day were a ring containing Charlotte Brontë’s hair which she had gifted to her husband – yours for £35. For £39 you could have one of Charlotte’s Brussels notebooks in which she had written a series of short stories. A letter sent by Charlotte to Ellen Nussey on the first day of her honeymoon fetched £44, and with it came a lock of Charlotte Brontë’s hair.

Perhaps the most moving of all the lots that came up for auction that day was the comb used by Emily Brontë on the day of her death – the middle is burnt out after it fell from Emily’s hands onto the fire. Remarkably, there were no bids at all for that item and it was withdrawn unsold. 

These small items, added together, tell of a remarkable life, and it’s one that still fascinates us today. As the exponential increase in the value of Brontë letters and items shows, that fascination shows no sign of stopping. Thankfully you don’t need to be a millionaire to see many of them, simply head to the Brontë Parsonage Museum in Haworth. I hope to see you next week for another new Brontë blog post.