Tonight sees a pivotal moment in England’s World Cup campaign, and this day in 1826 was a pivotal day in the Brontë story.
By 1826 the young Brontë siblings had already known more than their fair share of tragedy. Their mother Maria, and their eldest sisters Maria and Elizabeth had died. One effect of that was that the four remaining siblings were thrown together even closer than before: they ate together, they walked the moors together, they played together. By this point Charlotte Brontë was ten years old and Anne Brontë, the youngest sibling, six: their creativity was already blooming, it just needed a spark to set it blazing.
Patrick Brontë could little have known that he was about to deposit such a spark in Haworth Parsonage, in the shape of twelve wooden soldiers gifted on 5th July 1826. Patrick had been carrying out ecclesiastical duties in Leeds, at the time a growing town which had far more shops than Haworth or its nearest town of Keighley. Being ever a dutiful and caring father, he brought back presents for all his children – we know, for example, that he brought Anne a dancing doll – that is a doll with pins in its legs and arms allowing them to move. It was his present for his only son, Branwell, however that changed literary history forever. Charlotte Brontë gave this account of it:
‘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 one up 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 ‘Waiting-boy’. Branwell chose his, and called him Buonaparte.’
Branwell gave his own, slightly different, account:
‘When I first saw them [the 12 wooden soldiers] in the morning after they were bought, I carried them to Emily, Charlotte and Anne. They each took up a soldier, gave them names, which I consented to, and I gave Charlotte Twemy, to Emily Pare, to Anne Trott to take care of them, though they were to be mine and I to have the disposal of them as I would. Shortly after this I gave them to them as their own.’
It’s worth noting here nine-year-old Branwell’s generosity and how central he was to their sibling group at this time. It wasn’t long until the Brontës started creating stories about the twelve, which evolved into vast, complex kingdoms full of heroes and villains – from thence into the tiny little books which you can still see at the Brontë Parsonage Museum, and eventually would evolve into the Brontë novels the world loves today. Alas, by that time Branwell Brontë was in no state to make a meaningful contribution. If you’re buying presents for a child, grandchild, niece or nephew just think what could someday come of it!
If you’re planning on staying up for the big match tonight I wish you luck, and to any American readers may I wish you a happy, if belated, 4th of July. I hope you can all join me next Sunday for another new Brontë blog post.
Such a seemingly inconsequential gift had such an impact on literary history. So inspiring! I have wondered recently what the Brontë children would have thought of football/soccer. They had an interest in politics, so perhaps it would have carried over to sports?