Author: insearchofannebronte@hotmail.com

There’s little I like more than searching through archives to find out more about the Brontës and the time and places they knew. That’s why my favourite section of my new book, ‘Crave The Rose: Anne Brontë At 200‘ is the one which contains a series of first person encounters with the Brontës, rescued from the archives and old newspapers. I’ve had lots of people tell me how much they love that section too, and the book as a whole – thank you.

I was reminded this week, however, that I also have lots of archive pictures and stories relating to the Brontë Parsonage in Haworth itself. Thanks go to Paul Mellen who emailed me the link to a story on the British Newspapers Archive blog looking at the history of the parsonage. It seems a perfect time then to share some of these pictures that I’ve collected over the years – some incredibly atmospheric, some fascinating glimpses into social history, and all great fun to look at.

Let’s begin with the beginning of the Brontë Parsonage Museum itself. In this picture we see the huge crowds of people queueing to enter the parsonage when it first opened its doors in August 1928. I love the cloche hats worn by many of the women, so typical of the 1920s in Yorkshire, as well as in Jazz Age New York.

In this picture we see Sir James Roberts addressing the crowd on this momentous day – it was he who had very generously bought the parsonage from the Church of England and then gifted it to the Brontë Society to house their museum. A lovely report of this time reveals that after Sir James handed the title deeds over his wife, Lady Roberts, was handed a bouquet of white moorland heather by a young girl – Lady Roberts stooped to kiss the girl and “this little human touch called forth enthusiastic hurrahs, and even cheers.” I particularly like the end of that article too, detailing some more of the special guests in attendance: “The interest of the occasion was not a little heightened by the announcement that Captain Arthur Branwell, and Mr. and Mrs. Branwell, relatives of the Brontë family, as well as Mr. Holland, grandson of Mrs. Gaskell, were present, and they were invited by Sir James to ascend the platform, to say a few words.”

This picture shows us what the Brontë Parsonage Museum looked like in the months after its opening – it comes from the 1929 biography A Short History Of The Brontës by K. A. R. Sugden. Entitled ‘The room where Emily Brontë died’ we can see that the actual couch where she took her final breath, now a very moving highlight of the museum, was not yet in the museum’s collection, and the upright piano marked the spot.

Sir James Roberts was the first of many illustrious visitors to the museum throughout the decades (Virginia Woolf visited Haworth before the parsonage became a museum), from Charlie Chaplin to Orson Welles, Sylvia Plath, Daphne du Maurier and Patti Smith. Perhaps unique in its history, however, was the visit in April 1939 of James Roosevelt – the son of the President of the United States of America! Roosevelt, the son of FDR, was in Brontë country in his capacity as an employee of Samuel Goldwyn Productions who were about to release their ‘Wuthering Heights’ movie starring Laurence Olivier and Merle Oberon. Officially he was an ‘administrative assistant’ for the movie company, but in reality of course he was one of Goldwyn’s right hand men.

Roosevelt’s arrival in England (he also went to Manchester) was looked on almost as a Presidential visit in its own right, as his father was paralysed and unable to travel (this was kept a closely guarded secret from the American electorate, as was the fact that it was his wife Eleanor who carried out many of his Presidential duties). I love this picture of James Roosevelt meeting an old Haworth woman – two very different worlds brought together by the Brontës.

James Roosevelt served with distinction in the Second World War after his father led the United States decisively into the fray. The Parsonage Museum remained open throughout the war, and was also used as a cinema that showed films to soldiers stationed nearby. Here we see the Parsonage and its hallway in 1944, note that Patrick Brontë’s grandfather clock has not yet taken up its position on the middle landing of the stairs.

From Britannia And Eve magazine eight years later comes this, perhaps the most atmospheric picture inside the parsonage I’ve ever seen. It could almost be a portrait, but in fact its a photograph by Bill Brandt, dark and evocative – Emily’s sofa is now in place illuminated by candlelight. Charlotte’s shoes are on the floor next to her trunk, as if she is about to return at any moment.

In 1953 we see another very special guest being shown around the Parsonage Museum – Madame Beckers, who has travelled from Belgium. She was the granddaughter of Clare and Constantin Heger, founders of the Brussels Pensionnat graced by Charlotte and Emily Brontë. We learn that Mme. Beckers, then in her 80s, forgave Charlotte for the less than flattering way that she’d portrayed her grandmother as Madame Beck in Villette – published a hundred years earlier. The report also states that when younger Mme. Beckers looked so much like her grandmother Clare that a former pupil of the Pensionnat had burst into tears upon seeing her. What would Charlotte have made of this visit?

In 1954 we see yet more guests being given the VIP treatment as they are shown around the Brontë Parsonage Museum. As the cold war really starts to take a grip, a Russian cultural delegation has come to Haworth – showing how much Russians love the Brontës, a love which still continues to this day. We may be tempted to think that these three are spies of one sort or another; they may well be, but the man on the left is actually Leonid Leonov, one of the greatest Russian novelists and playwrights of his time and a man who was awarded the Order of Lenin on six occasions.

1955 at the Brontë Parsonage Museum was devoted to the marking of the centenary of the passing of Charlotte Brontë, and here we see six pictures from inside the museum during this special year. One item shown here is very rarely displayed now, but I find it an incredibly moving piece of history – the wooden cradle in which the infant Brontës slept.

Finally we come much closer to our present time and the Brontë Parsonage Museum as we now know it – from 1980 we get a rare photographic view from inside the parsonage hallway looking out towards the church, a view the Brontës must have seen every day. It’s from this same edition of the Illustrated London News that we get this image of Haworth graveyard.

We finish this post then with a burst of colour; the Brontës continue to bring colour into our lives, and always will do. By the way, any emails, comments and suggestions are always welcome – I’m currently thinking of ways to allow you to become even more engaged with my blog, as I value the input of every one of my readers so much – thank you! I hope you’ve enjoyed this dip into the archives of this magical building!

As we all know, the Brontë novels are all things of beauty, but that can beauty can be enhanced still further when they are accompanied by wonderful illustrations too. In today’s post we’re going to be looking at perhaps the most beautiful set of Brontë books of them all, illustrated by a master of the genre – Edmund Dulac.

Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë were masters of writing about the human condition and how our minds work, which is why their books are as relevant today as they’ve ever been, but they were also masters of descriptive writing. That’s why their novels are so easily turned into magnificent adaptations on the big and little screens. We can all argue about which is our favourite adaptation of Jane Eyre, and we can all argue about which are the greatest illustrated editions too – which is why I added ‘perhaps’ in the last paragraph. All I can say for certain is that this set of ten books covering all seven Brontë novels (some occupying more than one volume) are among the greatest treasures in my own collection.

What makes the Brontë story so incredible, if we leave aside their incredible works of genius, is that their background was very different to so many writers of the time. Edmund Dulac too had a rather different career in mind to the one that saw him become one of the greatest book illustrators of all time. Born in Toulouse, France in 1882 he was at first a practising lawyer, but found that his love for art was his real passion even above the riches that a career in law could bring. After leaving law behind and training at a Paris art school, Dulac moved to England in 1904 and was quickly recognised for his mastery of the art nouveau style. His illustrations for The Arabian Nights and Stories From Hans Christian Andersen are recognised as works of genius in their own right, but his first commissioned work was illustrating the novels of the Brontë sisters for J. M. Dent in London.

These books are incredibly beautiful, from their elaborate covers with gold relief lettering to the ribbon page marker integrated within them. Each volume contains six illustrations, so I’m now going to introduce you to one picture from each Brontë novel and look at what it tells us about the story:

The Professor

The Professor was Charlotte Brontë’s first novel, but it remained unpublished in her lifetime. She borrowed and improved on the central theme in Villette, but in this picture we see a familiar image from all Charlotte’s works – the young woman who has fallen in love with the older man, but whose social position makes it seemingly impossible for that love to flourish. Where could Charlotte have got that idea from?

Agnes Grey

Agnes Grey by our beloved Anne Brontë is largely biographical in parts, dealing with the heroines two stints as a governess, just as Anne had herself served at Blake Hall and Thorp Green Hall. She allows herself, however, to imagine a happy, love filled ending for Agnes with Reverend Weston – for which we can surely read Anne and Reverend Weightman. In real life, Weightman’s untimely death denied her this love, but nothing could deny Anne’s writing. We know that Weightman was a kindly man who was renowned for helping the Haworth parishioners, and here we see Weston returning a cat he has saved from being shot, with a grateful owner and a besotted Agnes looking on.

Wuthering Heights

Wuthering Heights is a book full of power, energy and magic – and Emily Brontë’s opening is one of the most memorable of them all. This illustration sees Dulac eschew his usual vibrancy, and create a moody, atmospheric image as Heathcliff flies to the window to bid the ghost of Catherine to return and haunt him, after Lockwood’s nocturnal encounter.

The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall

Anne Brontë used The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall to turn a spotlight on many of society’s ills, and especially on the abusive marriages that many women at that time were locked into. Among the outrages that Helen has to suffer, is the growing knowledge that her husband Arthur Huntingdon is having an affair with the haughty Annabella Wilmot, who later marries his best friend Lord Lowborough. Dulac here shows Helen catching Annabella in her room, but worse is to come.

Jane Eyre

Charlotte Brontë could have given up after failing to find a publisher for The Professor, but giving up was never in Charlotte’s nature. Undaunted, she created an overnight sensation when her second novel Jane Eyre was published. One reason for its success, then and today, is that we can all sympathise with Jane, we can all see ourselves in her. She is downtrodden, underestimated, ignored and seemingly beset by ill fortune at every turn – but like her creator she has a mighty heart and a mighty soul, and eventually she will prevail. Here Dulac reveals Jane being browbeaten by her cousin St. John Rivers as he tries to convince her to marry him and leave for India. Her heart is mute because Rochester occupies it, and we all know what happens next.

Shirley

I love Charlotte’s second novel Shirley because, disguised in name, she includes portraits of many of the people and places she has known – including her sister Anne under the guise of Caroline Helstone. Caroline is the real heroin of the novel (Shirley herself, based upon Emily, only appears many chapters in) and here we find Caroline at an emotional moment – she has discovered that Shirley’s governess Mrs Pryor’s real name is Agnes Helstone – she is her long lost mother. With those knowledge Caroline recovers from the illness that had taken her to the verge of death. Anne herself died whilst Charlotte was writing this novel, and she seems determined to save Anne on the page in a way that real life had denied her.

Villette

We return to Brussels for Villette, and this brilliant novel shows how far Charlotte’s powers had progressed since she was on similar territory with The Professor. Dulac’s illustration shows Lucy’s first love Dr. John rescuing a young woman after a theatre fire causes a stampede. She is the young Countess de Bassompierre, but in one of the novels many twists we discover that she is someone who Lucy had once known in very different circumstances (I won’t give this away, as it, like the novel as a whole, deserves to be read and enjoyed). The words are a perfect summary of Charlotte’s novel – Lucy wants someone she can rely on and fasten on to, but her hopes of love seem always adrift and then wrecked.

Edmund Dulac became a British citizen in 1914, and a pillar of the establishment who shortly before his death designed some of the most iconic stamps of Queen Elizabeth II. Like so many of us, however, his heart and mind was captured by those ladies of Haworth Parsonage.

On this day in 1842 two British girls were settling down to a life that was completely alien to the one they had known. They were four hundred miles from home, in a country where the language was alien to them and the Catholic atmosphere just as foreign. They were of course Charlotte Brontë and Emily Brontë, who arrived at the Pensionnat Heger school in Brussels on 15^th February 178 years ago. Today we’ll look at how this Belgian adventure affected Charlotte, Emily and Anne.

Let’s begin, appropriately for this blog and especially in this year, with Anne. Of course, Anne never made it to Brussels, indeed never travelled outside of England, but why did Charlotte choose Emily to accompany her to Belgium and not her youngest sister? On one hand, Anne would have seemed a more obvious choice for two reasons: Emily had lasted only a brief time at her previous school, Roe Head, before she was sent home suffering from such severe home sickness that Charlotte was worried she would die – it would not be so easy to return from Brussels as it had been from Mirfield should the same symptoms recur. Secondly, Emily was proving of huge value in Haworth Parsonage because of her domestic skills.

A clue to Charlotte’s choice comes in a letter that she sent to Aunt Branwell in August 1841 (from Rawdon where she was then a governess) in an effort to secure the funds she and Emily would need:

‘Dear Aunt… my friends recommend me, if I desire to secure permanent success, to delay commencing the school for six months longer, and by all means to contrive, by hook or by crook, to spend the intervening time in some school on the continent. They say schools in England are so numerous, competition so great, that without some such step towards attaining superiority we shall probably have a very hard struggle, and may fail in the end. They say, moreover, that the loan of £100, which you have been so kind as to offer us, will, perhaps, not all be required now, as Miss Wooler will lend us the furniture; and that, if the speculation is intended to be a good and successful one, half the sum, at least, ought to be laid out in the manner I have mentioned… These are advantages which would turn to vast account, when we actually commenced a school – and, if Emily could share them with me, only for a single half-year, we could take a footing in the world afterwards which we can never do now. I say Emily instead of Anne; for Anne might take her turn at some future period, if our school answered.’

Of course we know that in the end the school did not answer, but the generous aunt did, and she provided the money that allowed Charlotte and Emily to leave for the continent. Anne was always Aunt Branwell’s favourite niece, as attested to by Ellen Nussey, so Charlotte was careful to explain the possibility that Anne could also travel to Belgium at a later date. I believe that this was indeed Charlotte’s plan, rather than being in any way a snub to Anne. Anne Brontë was at that time a governess at Thorp Green Hall near York, and highly valued in her job, so it would have seemed more expedient to let Anne continue to hone these skills, and earn her salary, and take Emily to Brussels instead. Nevertheless, we can imagine Anne’s heart sinking as she thought of her sisters starting their continental adventure whilst she remained in a daily routine which she found a drudgery.

Charlotte’s years in Belgium (she spent almost two years there whereas Emily returned for Aunt Branwell’s funeral in the autumn of 1842 and remained in Haworth thereafter) were turbulent yet formative ones. She found love with Monsieur Constantin Heger, who was first her teacher and then her colleague, but it was not reciprocated, and she also lost her beloved friend Martha Taylor who was also in Brussels at the time.

These events were searingly painful for Charlotte; they changed her life for ever, and yet they changed her writing too. We see Martha as Jessy Yorke in Shirley, and her Belgian funeral is referenced twice in Villette. Heger casts an even larger shadow, as he can be seen in all Charlotte’s heroes and anti-heroes, most notably as Rochester and Paul Emanuel.

Charlotte’s letters to Constantin after she has left Belgium are difficult to read, and not only because they were at one point cut into pieces before being stitched back together again. For those of us who love Charlotte and her writing it is terrible to witness her heart in such turmoil, but as always her letters are brutally honest. We see her begging her love to write back to her, as on 8^th June 1845:

‘I know that you will lose patience when you read this letter. You will say that I am over-excited – that I have black thoughts etc. So be it Monsieur. I do not seek to justify myself, I submit to all kinds of reproaches – all I know is that I cannot – I will not resign myself to the total loss of my master’s friendship – I would rather undergo the greatest bodily pains than have my heart constantly lacerated by searing regrets.’

Charlotte begged for reproaches, even they would be better than the terrible silence which she had then endured for a year and a half, but reply came there none. We know, of course, that Charlotte Brontë had nothing to reproach herself for, other than a heart encountering the torments of love for the first time. Monsieur Heger, however, may not have been completely blame-free. 1915 saw a Scottish newspaper, the Carluke and Lanark Gazette, print a letter from a correspondent whose friend served as a teacher at the Heger school many years after Charlotte had. Her friend had found Heger’s vain and unfeeling attitude towards his conquest of Charlotte so distasteful, that she left her job:

Finally, we come to Emily Brontë. The months that Emily spent in Brussels were a struggle, and yet she conquered her demons in a way that she had been unable to when younger in Mirfield. Emily’s skills as a pianist were soon noted, and the Hegers not only arranged for her to receive tuition from a leading Brussels musician Monsieur Chapelle, they also hired Emily to teach the piano to other pupils.

Charlotte’s letters from Brussels to Ellen Nussey back in England at first revealed her worry that Emily would struggle as she knew not a word of French, and lessons were conducted solely in that language. She also wrote that Emily and Constantin Heger didn’t get on, and yet she soon won the hard hearted tutor over with her brilliance. He said of Emily that: ‘She should have been a man – a great navigator. Her powerful reason would have deduced new spheres of discovery from the knowledge of the old; and her strong, imperious will would never have been daunted by opposition or difficulty; never have given way but with life.’

Perhaps in her strength of character he found a kindred spirit in Emily, but he could never hope to match her brilliant mind. Wuthering Heights is not the only prose writing we have from Emily, for we also have a selection of her French language essays, or devoirs. When reading them now, translated into English by Sue Lonoff, it is incredible to think that she wrote them without any access to a dictionary, and within weeks of starting to learn the language.

They are miniature masterpieces that always take a philosophical turn. For example, when she was asked to write a devoir on ‘the butterfly’, she wrote:

‘During my soliloquy I picked a flower at my side; it was fair and freshly opened, but an ugly caterpillar had hidden itself among the petals and already they were shrivelling and fading. “Sad image of the earth and its inhabitants!” I exclaimed. “This worm lives only to injure the plant that protects it. Why was it created, and why was man created? He torments, he kills, he devours; he suffers, dies, is devoured – there you have his whole story.”’

We see a similar theme when Emily is asked to write about a cat. Her essay ‘Le chat’ was written again within weeks of her first encounter with the French language; not for Emily are platitudes such as ‘the cat has whiskers’ or ‘the cat is black with four legs’. Emily eschews the bland and instead produces sheer brilliance:

‘A cat, in its own interest, sometimes hides its misanthropy under the guise of amiable gentleness; instead of tearing what it desires from its master’s hand it approaches with a caressing air, rubs its pretty little head against him, and advances a paw whose touch is as soft as down. When it has gained its end, it resumes its character of Timon; and that artfulness in it is called hypocrisy. In ourselves, we give it another name, politeness, and he who did not use it to hide his real feelings would soon be driven from society. “But,” says some delicate lady, who has murdered half a dozen lap-dogs through pure affection, “the cat is such a cruel beast, he is not content to kill his prey, he torments it before its death; you cannot make that accusation against us.” More or less, Madam. Your husband, for example, likes hunting very much, but foxes being rare on his land, he would not have the means to pursue this amusement often, if he did not manage his supplies thus: once he has run an animal to its last breath, he snatches it from the jaws of the hounds and saves it to suffer the same infliction two or three more times, ending finally in death. You yourself avoid the bloody spectacle because it wounds your weak nerves. But I have seen you embrace your child it transports, when he came to show you a beautiful butterfly crushed between his cruel fingers; and at that moment, I really wanted to have a cat, with the tail of a half-devoured rat hanging from its mouth to present as the image, the true copying of your angel.’

It is incredible to think that Emily wrote all this in perfect French, so there is little wonder that Constantin Heger soon became awed by her abilities. We think also of Charlotte explaining that whilst Emily mixed little with the people in the outside world, somehow she knew them. It also brings to mind Ellen Nussey’s assertion that Emily was to her without doubt the greatest genius of the first half of the century.

Emily Brontë had a unique and powerful mind, if only she had lived to write other novels than Wuthering Heights there can be little doubt that they would all have been masterpieces. Like her sister Charlotte her time in Brussels changed her life forever, and those changes would find their way onto the pages of the books the whole world now loves.

Storm Ciara is battering the United Kingdom and Ireland this weekend, so it seems a perfect time to look at storms and wind in the Brontë’s writing and lives. As visitors on Brontë pilgrimages soon find out, Haworth is in an elevated position, surrounded on three sides by moorland. Situated at the top of the steep Main Street, the Brontë Parsonage itself is particularly exposed, so it can often be subjected to severe winds and heavy rain.

For visitors today this only adds to its beauty and atmosphere, but for its Brontë inhabitants it could also bring problems, as Charlotte Brontë made clear in a letter to Ellen Nussey in December 1846: ‘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 distressing 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 endurance. I admire, but I certainly could not imitate her.’

Nevertheless, Anne and Emily Brontë especially loved the wild, windy weather. Perhaps this is even more remarkable when we consider that we wouldn’t head out today without thick, waterproof coats on and sturdy boots, but nothing of the sort would have been available to the Brontës. Stormy weather wouldn’t stop Emily and Anne from taking a walk across the moors, the solution for them was to put on an extra layer or wrap another shawl tightly around themselves.

Their love of stormy weather can be seen plainly in their work. One of Anne’s earliest extant poems is even called ‘The North Wind’ and in it, under the disguise of a Gondal setting, she reveals how much she adores hearing the wild wind:

‘That wind is from the North, I know it well;
No other breeze could have so wild a swell.
Now deep and loud it thunders round my cell,
The faintly dies,
And softly sighs,
And moans and murmurs mournfully.
I know its language; thus is speaks to me —
‘I have passed over thy own mountains dear,
Thy northern mountains – and they still are free,
Still lonely, wild, majestic, bleak and drear,
And stern and lovely, as they used to be
When thou, a young enthusiast,
As wild and free as they,
O’er rocks and glens and snowy heights
Didst often love to stray.’

Emily was also inclined to praise stormy weather in her poetry, on more than one occasion. It often personifies a longing for, or love of, home as in this extract from Emily’s brilliant ‘F. De Samara To A.G.A.’ – more commonly known by its opening words, ‘light up thy halls!’:

‘How gloomy grows the Night! ‘Tis Gondal’s wind that blows,
I shall not tread again the deep glens where it rose –
I feel it on my face – Where, wild blast, dost thou roam?
What do we, wanderer, here, so far away from home?
I do not need thy breath to cool my death-cold brow,
But go to that far land, where she is shining now;’

Of course, the most well known reference to stormy winds in all the Brontë canon can be found in the title of Emily’s only novel Wuthering Heights – wuthering being a Yorkshire dialect word for a cold, howling wind of the kind that would be familiar to those living out on the moors like the Earnshaws and the Lintons (or the Brontës). Wild weather is almost a character in this novel, with the word ‘wind’ occurring 29 times and ‘storm’ featuring on a dozen occasions.

I will leave you with Anne’s brilliantly evocative poem, ‘Lines Composed In A Wood On A Windy Day’. This poem expresses Anne’s joy at wild weather, whether it be at Haworth, Thorp Green (where she composed this poem in 1842) or at her beloved Scarborough, watching waves crash against rocks. Even so, I don’t think Anne would have been wise to take a walk in conditions such as those that Ciara is bringing us – my advice to you all is take care, keep indoors, and settle down with a good book and a cup of something warm (whether that be tea, coffee, cocoa or whiskey I leave down to you). Let the storm do its worst!

‘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!’

Today I’m going to be reviewing a new Brontë book – Glass Town by Isabel Greenberg. As the name suggests it tells the story of the Brontë juvenilia, but it does so much more than this too. Before I begin my review it’s only fair to say that I was sent a copy of this book free of charge by the publisher Jonathan Cape – but regardless of that fact I’m going to give my honest and full opinion of this book.

I’ve read many books on the Brontës, from the sublime, such as the weighty fact filled biography by Juliet Barker and the series of books by Winifred Gerin, to the ridiculous where pages are spent describing the author’s car problems. Nevertheless, I’ve never before read a Brontë related book like Glass Town. In part that’s because of the format – this is a graphic novel; not a genre I’m overly familiar with, but I know they’re very popular, and to be frank if they’re all up to this standard I can see why.

I don’t want to give too much of the plot, or the ending, away, but the title places this firmly in the early days of the Brontë writing – the days when the ‘scribblemania’, as Charlotte called it, took hold, resulting in the tiny little books that we can still marvel at within the Brontë Parsonage Museum in Haworth.

The earliest incarnation of the, by then, four Brontë siblings’ creative world was Glass Town, which later expanded into the world of Angria. At this point the writing was carried out by Charlotte and Branwell Brontë only. It took Charlotte’s voyage to Roe Head School in Mirfield to liberate Emily and Anne Brontë, at which point they created their own fictional worlds of Gondal and Gaaldine – one that Emily in particular found solace within throughout her life.

This is all contained within this marvellous book. I said ‘by then’ in the preceding paragraph because the eldest Brontë sisters, Maria and Elizabeth, had tragically died from tuberculosis before the writing adventures had begun. I was pleased to see that this was referenced by the author, and emphasis was placed upon how the eldest sisters were always remembered.

We also see the catalyst for this early creativity – the present of twelve toy soldiers that Patrick Brontë made to Branwell Brontë in July 1826, and which he then shared with his sisters. I found it very moving how reference is also made to Anne’s soldier being named ‘waiting boy’, as we learnt from Charlotte’s later account of this incident – in this year especially, Anne need wait no longer for the love and acclaim she deserves.

This is a large, thick book that is an absolute pleasure to look upon and hold, with a beautiful red ribbon incorporated as a page marker. Each page turn is a sheer delight, and I love the way that each pair of pages are different – some are monochrome, some bold and colourful; some consist of a single image, some of many individual boxes. It is simply beautiful, and I found that it had a very cinematic quality too, particularly when Greenberg utilises moments of silence, and lets the emotion so inherent in the pictures do the talking.

Is this then simply a telling of how the Brontë children became such powerful and proficient writers? In fact, it’s far more than this. It is three stories in one novel, woven together immaculately. Yes, we see the young Brontës as they grow up, and there’s a lot of biographical information included – the author is clearly a Brontë enthusiast who has revelled in her research. We also see a telling of these early writings themselves, so we enter Glass Town and see how the devilish Zamorna becomes locked in a deadly power struggle with Northangerland and others. We also see Charlotte herself dragged by Zamorna into Glass Town – she is not only the writer, she has become a character.

I found this particularly magical – it is a look at the power of the creative process, and how Charlotte in particular as a youth, and Emily in adulthood, became obsessed by the worlds and people they created. In this, it has almost a Magic Realism touch to it, as the lines between reality and the imagination become blurred. Glass Town asks us which is more real, our day to day lives, or the words we speak and the ideas we conjure up? Can Charlotte ever escape her Glass Town world – does she even want to? Is it better sometimes to live in our own imaginary kingdoms rather than face what can be sad, painful realities? This is a deep question that this book addresses, but I will leave you to discover the answer for yourself.

It is clear that Isabel Greenberg is a master of this genre; an excellent artist, a wonderful wordsmith, and, above all, this is a book with a mighty soul. I found it incredibly moving in places, and it has certainly brought me solace when I needed it. In short, I can’t recommend this book highly enough. It could be a quick read, but I found myself lingering over each page – it’s certainly an object of beauty as well, that would enliven any shelf or coffee table. If I was giving marks I would have no hesitation in giving this ten out of ten. If you want an in depth look at the large and varied juvenile output of the Brontës I would always recommend Nicola Friar’s remarkable blog on that matter – but this serves as a fascinating introduction to what can be a complex subject. Is it a graphic novel, a biography, a work of fiction? It’s all three, and it’s also a book that I have no hesitation in recommending. I found it a very worthy addition to the canon of Brontë related books in Anne’s special year.

Glass Town by Isabel Greenberg is available in hard back and Kindle editions, and is published by Jonathan Cape on 6^th February.

It’s been a busy ten days for literary anniversaries. Yesterday was the birthday of Virginia Woolf, who visited Haworth Parsonage in 1904 and wrote about Emily and Charlotte Brontë in ‘A Room Of One’s Own’, and Robbie Burns, much loved by the Brontës. Of course, they were both trumped by the 200^th birthday of our much loved Anne Brontë just nine days ago, so today we’re going to look back at last weekend’s Anne Brontë celebrations in Haworth and Scarborough.

Anne’s big day was last Friday, the 17^th of January, and I myself marked the day by travelling to the place she and her family are most associated with: Haworth. Clouds were overhead but, rarely for a winter’s day, there was no rain as I climbed that famous steep hill once more. Now called Main Street it had been called Kirkgate as Anne made her first voyage along it aged just three months in April 1820.

My first port of call was the Brontë Parsonage Museum itself, or rather it’s shop annex. The Parsonage building is out of action throughout January as this is the time when the year’s new display is installed and essential cleaning and conservation work is carried out. Thankfully, however, the museum had opened its Bonnell Room especially for Anne’s birthday celebrations, and what a treat it was.

Henry Houston Bonnell was a major donor to the museum collection. A wealthy American from Philadelphia who loved all things Brontë, his generous bequest has seen part of the museum named after him. Unfortunately he never got to see this recognition, for he died in 1926, two years before the parsonage museum was opened to the public. For those familiar with the museum, it’s the room at the far end of the shop, or alternatively the final room that you enter as you walk down the stairs after visiting the parsonage itself.

This year it has been dedicated to Anne, and after kindly partaking of a glass of bubbly I was offered, I walked with excitement into it. Anne’s exhibition, entitled ‘Amid The Brave And Strong’ opens in full to the public next month, and I can’t wait to see it and report back on its treasure, but if the Bonnell Room is anything to go by, we’re in for a real treat.

The numerous cabinets contain a wide selection of Anne Brontë items that tell her story from beginning to end. Thus we have her pebble collection, one of her drawings of her spaniel Flossy, and a large and varied selection of her poetry and art. We also have the blood stained handkerchief with her initials in the corner, and the walls themselves are beautifully decorated with the cross-written letter which she sent to Ellen Nussey in the last weeks of her life.

Above is a photograph of the first pair of display cases, containing Anne’s stunning turquoise and carnelian necklaces, as well as the small round portrait of Anne wearing that very same carnelian necklace aged around 12 or 13, drawn by Charlotte Brontë.

From the moment of seeing that first case I was incredibly moved. At last, Anne Brontë was centre stage. As a child she had been called ‘waiting boy’, but now Anne has to wait no longer for the love and recognition she deserves. The attendant asked what I thought of the exhibition at which point I promptly burst into tears – maybe the bubbly had gone to my head, but I think I was overcome with how wonderful the exhibition was, how fitting and tastefully done – there is no doubt now that this is Anne Brontë’s year, and I found seeing that an incredibly emotional experience. When I visit the full exhibition next month I aim to be more in control of my emotions, but I’ll take a hanky or ten along just in case.

After leaving the parsonage, I made my way to the neighbouring church where Anne’s father served so well for more than 40 years. From there, it was a short stroll to the Old School Rooms, the building founded by Patrick Brontë and in which Anne spent many hours as a much loved and respected Sunday School teacher. A talk was given on Anne Brontë there which was informative and well presented – there was one little error in which a picture of Anne by Charlotte was described as being a ‘fantasy figure of a woman’ drawn by Anne, but otherwise it was a fitting tribute to Anne on her special day and hit exactly the right tone.

I headed home to South Yorkshire full of love and delight at how Anne was being remembered – well done to all who have been involved in the exhibition, including Brontë Society supremo Kitty Wright who I was pleased to bump into again in Haworth.

Sunday saw the celebrations switch to Scarborough, but unfortunately I was struck down by manflu at this most inappropriate time and was unable to attend. Thankfully I received a number of reports of the weekend, all of which praised it fulsomely. The ‘Anne Brontë p.200’ art exhibition organised by Lindsey Tyson was a huge hit, and the book that accompanies it, containing 200 images created from ‘The Tenant of Wildfell Hall’, has delighted everyone lucky enough to have a copy. The exhibition itself will soon be moving to Haworth, giving everyone another chance to see it.

Venerable Brontë biographer Edward Chitham gave a talk which was very well received. Now in his mid-eighties he has lost none of his passion for Anne Brontë and her sisters, nor his ability to convey that to an audience.

A large group of people then made their way to the South Bay beach, where they each wrote a phrase or word onto a pebble relating to Anne before throwing them into the sea. I think this was a lovely idea, as this beach was walked by Anne many times; she even crossed it in a donkey drawn cart (you can still get donkey rides here in summer) and chose it as the setting for the reunion between Agnes Grey and Reverend Weston. I couldn’t be there in person but I was there in spirit, so I was absolutely delighted to see that I was represented on the pebbles thanks to two very special Brontë enthusiasts. Rachel Maria Bell wrote ‘Crave The Rose‘ on a pebble to represent my latest book, whilst Pamela Nash, organiser of the Anne Brontë event in Manchester in March, wrote ‘In Search’ (after my first Bronte biography, ‘In Search Of Anne Brontë‘) and ‘Spirit’ on her pebbles. I was really happy to see this, so thank you very much to Rachel and Pamela.

There was then a procession up the steep hill (steep hills seemed to follow the Brontës wherever they went) to Anne’s final resting place at St. Mary’s Church beneath Scarborough Castle. I have to give great thanks here too to Eileen Prunty Hynes, who had not only travelled from Ireland to pay tribute to Anne Brontë but who sent me a picture of my book on Anne’s memorial. A huge honour for me, and Eileen also brought me a present all the way from the Brontë fatherland of Drumballyroney in County Down – thank you very much! I was thrilled beyond measure at these kind thoughts and actions, and even more thrilled to see how wonderfully Anne had been remembered in Scarborough – as represented by the candles and white roses around her memorial.

Anne’s immortal creation Helen, the tenant of Wildfell Hall, famously plucks a white winter rose and uses it to represent her own courage and resilience. It also, of course, perfectly represents the courage and resilience of Anne Brontë.

Next week I will be reviewing a new Brontë graphic novel called ‘Glass Town’ by Isabel Greenberg – is it a fitting book to mark Anne’s special year? (Spoiler alert: yes it is, but more on that next week). For now I just want to thank all who have remembered Anne in the last ten days, wherever in the world they are. We are in the year of Anne Brontë, and it’s about time.

Continue reading Happy 200th Birthday To Anne Brontë!

We’re less than one week from the 200^th birthday of the great Anne Brontë, so I’m thrilled to say that my new book to mark this occasion, ‘Crave The Rose: Anne Brontë At 200’ is available right now from its publisher Valley Press, based in Anne’s beloved Scarborough, from Amazon or by ordering from your local book shop (even better if it’s an independent bookshop of course).

I don’t like to blow my own trumpet, but I’m really pleased with this book and as I know there are lots of Anne fans reading this book, I thought I’d briefly share details of Crave The Rose. It contains things never seen in a Brontë book before, and thanks to the team at Valley Press it looks absolutely beautiful too.

My book is in three sections, the first of which is a mini-biography of Anne Brontë over the course of nine chapters. Each chapter opens with an Anne Brontë poem that is relevant to that part of her life, and this biography contains new information that has come to my attention since I wrote ‘In Search Of Anne Brontë‘ five years ago.

The middle section looks at a recently discovered essay by Anne Brontë which has never appeared in a book before. The essay is included in full, and I also explain where the essay was found, how it was verified that Anne was the author, and why I believe that these are the final words that Anne Brontë ever wrote.

The final section also contains things that can be found in no other Brontë book, as we take a walk back to the nineteenth century archives and hear first person accounts of people who met the Brontës face to face in their everyday lives. It gives us real insight into what the Brontës were like, and many of the accounts are incredibly moving – and often very surprising too.

I hope you will enjoy reading ‘Crave The Rose: Anne Brontë At 200’ as much as I enjoyed writing it. Next Friday there will be a birthday post to mark Anne’s big day itself, and I may see some of you at Brontë 200 events in Bradford on Friday and Scarborough (I hope to be there on Sunday). For now I leave you with ‘The Narrow Way’, Anne’s magnificent poem which contains the title words to my new book:

‘Believe not those who say
The upward path is smooth,
Lest thou shouldst stumble in the way
And faint before the truth.
It is the only road
Unto the realms of joy;
But he who seeks that blest abode
Must all his powers employ.
Bright hopes and pure delights
Upon his course may beam,
And there amid the sternest heights,
The sweetest flowerets gleam; –
On all her breezes borne
Earth yields no scents like those;
But he, that dares not grasp the thorn
Should never crave the rose.
Arm, arm thee for the fight!
Cast useless loads away:
Watch through the darkest hours of night;
Toil through the hottest day.
Crush pride into the dust,
Or thou must needs be slack;
And trample down rebellious lust,
Or it will hold thee back.
Seek not thy treasure here;
Waive pleasure and renown;
The World’s dread scoff undaunted bear,
And face its deadliest frown.
To labour and to love,
To pardon and endure,
To lift thy heart to God above,
And keep thy conscience pure, –
Be this thy constant aim,
Thy hope and thy delight, –
What matters who should whisper blame,
Or who should scorn or slight?
What matters – if thy God approve,
And if within thy breast,
Thou feel the comfort of his love,
The earnest of his rest?’

We have made it into a new year, so happy 2020 one and all! This isn’t any old new year, of course, but the end of a six year period which has seen the 200^th anniversaries of the births of the Brontë children. They’ve saved the best for last, for this year sees the 200^th birthday of our beloved Anne Brontë.

In fact, the big day is just twelve days away as I type this, so we’re not only in the year of Anne, but the month of Anne too! The History Press, who published my ‘In Search Of Anne Brontë’ in 2016 and who will be publishing my book on Charlotte Brontë and Ellen Nussey later this year, have dubbed this month ‘Janneuary’ – I like that, so I’m borrowing it to give a Janneuary update on three Brontë birthday celebrations heading rapidly towards us.

Scarborough

Brontë pilgrims often make their way to Haworth, and understandably so – it’s worth a visit on any day of the year, but Anne Brontë lovers should also try to get to Scarborough. It’s a beautiful place on a sunny day, which is why Anne loved it so much. She is buried there of course, in St. Mary’s churchyard in the shadow of the ancient castle, but she also spent large chunks of her summers there during her years as a governess to the Robinson family of Thorp Green.

Anne always remembered Scarborough fondly, and it’s good to see that they remember her fondly too, for they’ve put together an exciting sequence of events to mark this special occasion. The first event gets under way next week, and it’s a brilliant way to mark Anne’s life and her artistic as well as writing talent. Called ‘Anne Brontë p.200’ it runs from 11^th January to 8^th February, and is at Woodend Creative, a large building in beautiful grounds just a short walk from the Grand Hotel and adjacent to Scarborough’s excellent art gallery.

The brainchild of local artist Lindsey Tyson, it is based upon an excellent idea that takes Anne’s ‘The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall’ and turns it into 200 individual pieces of art by 200 artists, each of whom has used a page from the book as their base. The results are incredible, and if you can’t get along to the exhibition you can buy the complete set of Anne inspired artwork in this stunning book that you can purchase at the event or from Lindsey via this link:

That’s not all that’s taking place on the east coast this month. On the 14^th, Tim Tubbs is giving a talk on ‘The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall’, and on the 17^th and 18^th, Eddie Lawler is presenting his ‘Tracking The Brontës’ show. Eddie has performed at Haworth on many occasions, and now lives at Scarborough with his wife Olga who painted this fantastic version of Branwell’s portrait of the sisters. It’s a brilliant show – fun, moving and packed full of facts (with a little Yorkshire rapping thrown in for good measure). All of those events are also at Woodend.

On Sunday 19^th a beautiful celebration of Anne’s life will take place, beginning at the Grand Hotel, on the site of which Anne spent her final moments. A torchlit procession will then lead to the South Bay beach, where pebbles will be thrown into the sea. The procession will then lead uphill to St. Mary’s church where bells will ring out in Anne’s name.

Manchester

Anne Brontë never crossed the Pennines to Manchester, but her family did. It was in that city that her father Patrick had his cataracts cut away without anaesthetic, and where Charlotte commenced the writing of ‘Jane Eyre’ as she nursed him. Emily Brontë had earlier visited the city with Charlotte too, to consult an eye specialist.

It is now a bustling, modern city but it hosts its very own Anne Brontë tribute under the banner of ‘Project Anne Brontë 200’. It takes place on 28^th March of this year in a very fitting setting – Manchester’s ‘Cross Street Chapel’. I say fitting, because the minister of this very chapel, in its original form, in the mid-nineteenth century was a certain Reverend William Gaskell, husband of Charlotte Brontë’s friend and biographer Elizabeth Gaskell.

Pamela Nash has put together a magnificent programme of musical highlights that pays great tribute to Anne, and as Anne loved to play and listen to music she will surely appreciate this tribute. The hugely acclaimed up and coming composer Lucy Pankhurst has written a piece especially for the event – a setting of Anne Brontë’s poem ‘The Bluebell‘ which she has entitled ‘A Fine And Subtle Spirit’. It’s being performed by professional singers and a children’s choir, so it should be a truly memorable event. There will also be performances of hymns by Anne and poems by Emily set to music, and I will be there to say a few introductory words myself (please don’t let that put you off). This is an event not to be missed if you are in or near Manchester, and I will bring more details on it as that final Saturday in March approaches.

Bradford

Anne was born in Thornton near Bradford of course, the last of the six Brontë siblings and just three months before the family moved to Haworth. Unfortunately there won’t be a special event at the Thornton birthplace of the Brontës and the powers that be are keeping the Parsonage at Haworth closed on that day (January is the month when they change out the exhibitions), but they have organised a party at the Delius Arts & Cultural Centre in the centre of Bradford.

Here is the official description of the event on the Brontë Society website:

“Come down to be entertained by an exciting line-up of musicians, poets and DJs, and try your hand at zine-making, badge-making and other DIY crafts. This is a night to throw on your glad-rags, revel in performances, and enjoy delicious food and drink all for Anne Brontë’s birthday.”

It sounds like there’s something for almost everyone, and no advance booking is required – simply turn up and pay what you want.

The truth is that if you carry Anne Brontë in your hearts, she will be with you wherever you are on Friday the 17^th, so why not have your own celebration even if you’re on your own with an Anne Brontë book and a slice of cake (that’s what I plan to be doing in Haworth on the day)? If you can couple that celebration with one of the fabulous events in Scarborough or Manchester as well then you can make it a JAnneuary and MAnnearch to remember!

Happy New Year! May I wish all of my readers a very happy 2020, your support really does mean everything, so I hope you’ve enjoyed my blog in the year that’s gone and continue to enjoy it in the year that’s come along!

Whether you like to call them ‘resolutions’ or not, I hope that you achieve your dreams and goals in the year ahead. It’s a year that will see me have two more Brontë books published – probably my last ever Brontë books, so I hope I’ve done their subjects justice. ‘Charlotte and Ellen‘ will be out in autumn, and ‘Crave The Rose: Anne Brontë At 200’ will be out later this month! It’s worth pointing out that whilst Amazon seems to say that it’s out on the 2^nd, tomorrow, it will be a little later than this as the festive period have slowed down the usual typesetting, printing and distribution service with Valley Press. Fear not, however, it will be out later in January, hopefully in time for Anne’s 200^th birthday, so you can pre-order now – I hope you will think it worth the wait; it has some things in it that have never been seen in book form before, and I’m really excited about making them available to the public.

Did you spend New Year’s Eve linking arms, and singing Auld Lang Syne? Wouldn’t it be nice to think of the Brontës doing just that – with Anne leading the chorus in that voice described by Ellen Nussey: “She sang a little; her voice was weak, but very sweet in tone.”

Ellen also described how Anne and Ellen loved to play the piano which can still be seen by visitors to Haworth’s Brontë Parsonage Museum. How lovely to think of Anne at the piano, maybe Emily alongside her as she so often was, as they all sang the words written by Robbie Burns in 1788 and which have now become forever associated with Hogmanay celebrations.

Only a dream? Actually, it’s almost certain that this is what took place in the Brontë’s parsonage over the new year period. How do we know this? Because we still have Anne Brontë’s music books. She loved to copy pieces of music by hand onto blank music paper that she would then play on the piano – and we still have Anne’s own handwritten and annotated copy of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ – here it is!

The Brontës were fans of anything Scottish, and especially of Walter Scott, James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, and Burns, the Bard of Ayrshire. Whilst Burns’ name will forever be associated with these New Year words he himself said it was an ancient song which had been passed on to him by an old man, and he had merely set it in print.

Wherever the song originates it resonates powerfully today – should old acquaintances be forget, because they date from long since (‘lang syne’ in the Ayrshire idiom)? No, says Burns, these old acquaintances will meet again and share a cup of friendship again. It’s a simple message – we move on to the future, but we should always remember and cherish the past. So we move on to 2020, and are now just over two weeks from Anne Brontë’s 200^th birthday – I wish you all a very happy new year and hope you had a joyous Hootenanny, and as I thank you for your acquaintance I leave you with this timeless song that Anne played on the parsonage piano:

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!
[Chorus:] For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp!
And surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak a cup o’kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
[Chorus]
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou’d the gowans fine;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
Sin’ auld lang syne.
[Chorus]
We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin’ auld lang syne.
[Chorus]
And there’s a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie’s a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.
[Chorus]