I ought to be at Dewsbury-Moor you know – but I stayed as long as I was able and at length I neither could nor dared stay any longer My health and spirits had utterly failed me and the medical man whom I consulted enjoined me if I valued my life to go home So home I went, the change has at once roused and soothed me – and I am now I trust fairly in the way to be myself again – A calm and even mind like yours Ellen cannot conceive the feelings of the shattered wretch who is now writing to you when after weeks of mental and bodily anguish not to be described something like tranquillity and ease began to dawn again.9
Miss Wooler, recognizing that Charlotte had come to the end of the road, presented her with a particularly thoughtful gift, a copy of Walter Scott’s poems The Vision of Don Roderick and Rokeby, on 23 May 1838, presumably the day she left.10
That Charlotte’s illness was principally in the mind was obvious from the swiftness of her recovery once she was back in the bosom of her family. She was encouraged in this by Mary and Martha Taylor, her lively friends from her own schooldays at Roe Head. They came to stay for a few days at the beginning of June, defeating Charlotte’s attempt to write to Ellen.
They are making such a noise about me I can not write any more. Mary is playing on the piano. Martha is chattering as fast as her little tongue can run
Despite the reviving gaiety at home, Charlotte was still a prey to morbid sensitivity, noting with alarm that Mary appeared far from well and that her symptoms reminded her forcibly of the consumption that had killed Maria and Elizabeth thirteen years earlier.12 Charlotte was obsessed with consumption at this time, believing first of all that Anne had fallen victim to it and then, some six months later, that Mary Taylor was a sufferer. Perhaps, in her highly nervous state at Dewsbury Moor, she had talked herself into believing that she, too, had the fatal symptoms – the cough, the pain in the chest or side and the feverishness were all common enough complaints which could easily seem signs of more deadly disease.
The imaginations of Branwell and her sisters had been more productively engaged. Emily and Anne between them produced a whole stream of poems describing the captivity of Alexandrina Zenobia, her misery at her separation from her lover and the faithlessness of her former friends. Emily was also immersed in classical studies, translating Virgil’s Aeneid and writing notes on the Greek tragedies of Euripides and Aeschylus.13 Anne, too, undoubtedly pursued her lessons at home.
Branwell, as usual, had several ventures on hand at once. While still continuing his story about the unfortunate Henry Hastings and the vicious circle of debauchees, led by George Ellen, into which he had fallen, Branwell had also embarked on a new project, a life of Warner Howard Warner whom he described as one who
has been foremost in all our troubles past and whom I may call the greatest Creation of the Storm. All our other Cheif/ Leaders had been of some account before he alone in our eyes has been born in it and lived in it and
As in his earlier ‘Life of Alexander Percy’, Branwell gave Warner a distinguished pedigree which set him firmly in his own locality. The family lived near Pendle Hill, the famous haunt of witches which lay just across the moors from Haworth. To the founder of the line in the seventeenth century he gave the resonant name Haworth Currer Warner, which may have been the source of Charlotte’s last and most famous pseudonym, Currer Bell.15 The family emigrated to Africa in 1780, where General Warner conquered the province of Angria from the Ashantee, Warner Howard Warner being his great-grandchild. Though the story was abandoned as Branwell’s circumstances changed, it is interesting to see that a scenario similar to Lowood School was envisaged. The six-year-old Warner, a sickly child, was to be sent to Dr Moray’s Hawkscliffe Academy, despite the fact that his mother opposed the plan, ‘pointing out the probable results from her Sons Unbending spirit and want of power to
Once she had recovered her equilibrium, Charlotte added her contribution to the literary activity, writing two long stories in a month. The first, beginning with the now almost obligatory skit on a Methodist service in an Ebenezer chapel, was again a series of loosely connected scenes and kaleidoscopic events featuring Charles Townshend, Charlotte’s favourite narrator, and William Percy, estranged son of Northangerland, who plays an increasingly important role in the juvenilia. She introduced a new heroine, who foreshadows the predatory and beautiful Blanche Ingram of Jane Eyre. Jane Moore is a dazzling beauty, daughter of an Angrian lawyer, who has ambitions to marry a nobleman and, having set her sights on Lord Hartford, proceeds to court him with ruthless ability. Another interesting episode, irrelevant to the story, is a description of Viscount Macara Lofty, who is discovered recovering from an opium-induced stupor. His ecstatic smiles grow less frequent and his ‘almost sensual look of intense gratification & absorption gave place to an air of fatigue’. With throbbing head and shaking hands, he defends his use of opium to the disapproving Townshend:
I was in a state of mind which I will not mock you by endeavouring to describe – but the gloom the despair became unendurable – dread forebodings rushed upon me – whose power I could not withstand – I felt myself on the brink of some hideous disaster & a vague influence ever & anon pushed me over – till clinging wildly to life & reason – I almost lost consciousness in the faintness of mortal terror. Now Townshend – so suffering – how far did I err – when I had recource, to the sovereign specific which a simple narcotic drug offered me?17
Though Charlotte later denied that she had ever taken opium,18 the circumstances in which Lofty resorted to the drug were very similar to her own experiences at Dewsbury Moor.
Having finished this story on 28 June, Charlotte promptly began another which, in a method totally new to her but which would be used by all the sisters in their published novels, told the story through the medium of letters. Curiously, the subject she chose this time was Augusta di Segovia, Alexander Percy’s first wife, whom she wilfully transformed into his mistress. Perhaps because Branwell had already covered the ground so well in his first volume of ‘The Life of Alexander Percy’, Charlotte could make no headway. At the beginning of her eighth chapter she admitted:
One cannot live always in solitude. One cannot continually keep one’s feelings wound up to the pitch of romance and reverie. I began this work with the intention of writing something high and pathetic.
She had intended to describe the deathbed of Augusta, poisoned by Robert King, alias Sdeath, and dying alone in agony.
But reader, why should I pursue this subject? All this has been told you before in far higher language than I can use! Revenons à nos moutons! Let it suffice to say that I found this pitch far too high for me. I could not keep it up. I was forced to descend a peg … I grew weary of heroics and longed for some chat with men of common clay19
Far from being ‘men of common clay’, the conversationalists were Sir William Percy, Lord Hartford and the inevitable Zamorna, and their ‘chat’ turned on Percy’s appointment to delicate secret diplomatic negotiations in Paris. Charlotte thus fell back on developing the story she had begun in her previous work.
While Charlotte tried to forget Dewsbury Moor by burying herself in her writing, Branwell was preparing to embark on his chosen profession. Any plans to go to the Royal Academy or on a continental tour had now been dropped completely: more surprisingly, the idea of any sort of artistic career had also been ruled out. On 23 February 1838 Patrick had written to John Driver, a merchant and banker in Liverpool:
You are aware, that I have been looking out, during some time, in order to procure a respectable situation, for my Son Branwell. As yet, however, I have not succeeded, according to my wishes, or his. I once thought that he might get into the mercantile line – but there seem to be many and great difficulties in reference to this. I then, turned my attention to a University Education, but this would require great expense, and four or five years from hence, ere he could, in a pecu
niary way, do Any thing for himself. These, are serious, and important considerations, which demand great precaution. I am now, of opinion, that it might be, the most prudent of all plans, under all the circumstances of the case, to endeavour to procure for him, a Situation, as Clerk, in a Bank. This would be respectable, and in time, should he conduct himself well, sufficiently lucrative, and might ultimately lead, to something more desirable. I have made no attempt – either in Halifax, Bradford, or Leeds, since, I think it would be to his advantage to go farther from home, And to see a little more of the World. London, Liverpool, or Manchester, would Answer better, on many accounts, and would open a wider field, for talent, and suitable connexions. On these grounds, I have taken the liberty of applying to You, as the most likely of any Gentleman, I know – requesting, that you would be so good, as to do what you can, Amongst your Friends, at home, and abroad in order to procure an opening for him, as Clerk in some Respectable Bank. I know not what the usual terms are, on which a Young man enters upon such a line of life, but I have heard, that they are comparatively easy, as far as money matters are concerned.20
Whether no clerkship was available or the cost of providing sureties proved prohibitive, this plan too came to nothing. So it was really as a last resort, rather than the culmination of his dreams, that Branwell returned to the idea of earning his living as an artist. The Reverend William Morgan proved more helpful than Mr Driver and it was under his patronage that Branwell now set up as a professional portrait painter in a studio in Bradford.
The actual date is not known. He was certainly at home when the Taylors came to stay in the first week of June. On 22 July 1838, Morgan paid a rare visit to Haworth to give the afternoon sermon in aid of the church Sunday school and it seems logical that Branwell should have taken advantage of his visit to return to Bradford with him. In any event, he was established in Bradford by 31 July, and living in lodgings only a stone’s throw from Morgan’s Christ Church.21
The house was a modest one, in the middle of a stone-built terrace which lay at right angles to the top of Darley Street, a busy thoroughfare leading to the heart of the town. It was well placed for businessmen seeking their own or their families’ portraits, though it was in a residential area rather than in a commercial centre. Branwell’s ‘Genteel & Comfortable lodgings … suitable for a Single Gentleman, or a Lady & Gentleman without incumbrance’, were at No. 2, Fountain Street where the owner, Isaac Kirby, lived with his wife and two children. Kirby advertised himself as a ‘dealer in London & Dublin, Double XX Stout, Porter etc’, which he sold from his commercial premises opposite the Rawson Arms in Market Street.22 It is surely evidence of the fact that Branwell was not yet a confirmed drinker that his father and William Morgan allowed him to lodge with a dealer in beer in his first foray away from home.
The Kirbys and their niece, Margaret Hartley, were among those who sat to their lodger, but Branwell was also able to cultivate the much wealthier clerical circle surrounding his extremely influential patron. He is known to have painted Morgan himself and even the vicar of Bradford, Henry Heap.23 Though his portrait of Mrs Kirby is unflattering in the extreme, with its sharply angled face and Pinocchio-esque nose, other portraits of the period show that Branwell was a perfectly competent, though not a great artist. As he settled into his new lodgings, he had every prospect of making at least a modest success of his chosen career.
Though the fact that Branwell was now in a way to earn his own living eased the financial pressures on the rest of his family, it was still an absolute necessity that his sisters should be able to support themselves. Patrick was sixty-one and still working as hard as ever, since he had been without a curate for over a year. His continued good health, let alone his continued existence, could not be relied upon. Charlotte had little option, therefore, but to revoke her decision not to return to Dewsbury Moor after her extended summer holiday ended. On 24 August 1838, she wrote to Ellen Nussey, who had moved on from one brother in London to stay with another, Joshua, in Bath.
I am again at Dewsbury-Moor engaged in the old business teach – teach – teach … When will you come home? Make haste you have been at Bath long enough for all purposes – by this time you have acquired polish enough I am sure – if the varnish is laid on much thicker I am afraid the good wood underneath will be quite concealed and your old Yorkshire friends won’t stand that – Come – Come I am getting really tired of your absence Saturday after Saturday comes round and I can have no hope of hearing your knock at the door and then being told that ‘Miss Ellen Nussey is come.’ O dear in this monotonous life of mine that was a pleasant event24
Charlotte, as usual, exaggerated her plight. She was still in touch with Mary and Martha Taylor, who were about to take a tour in Wales, and she had ‘seen a great deal’ of one of her former pupils, Ann Cook. It is a measure of Charlotte’s changing mood that a girl whom she had once described as one of the ‘fat-headed oafs’ at Roe Head was now transformed into someone who was ‘still the same warm-hearted – affectionate – prejudiced – handsome girl as ever’ whom Charlotte did not think at all altered ‘except that her carriage &c. is improved’. Of events or gossip in the neighbourhood, Charlotte could only say, ‘I have nothing at all to tell you’ – this despite the fact that in the previous two weeks Dewsbury had been torn apart by some of the worst riots in its history. The new Poor Law guardians had recently held their first meetings in the town, causing the Radicals to hold a protest rally: the mob went on the rampage, physically attacking the guardians, who had to call out the troops to protect themselves. Only four days before Charlotte wrote her letter, there had been a second anti-Poor Law riot in Dewsbury even though troops were now stationed in the town to keep the populace in order.25 Of these dramatic events, despite her once-vaunted interest in politics, Charlotte remained oblivious, wrapped up in her own little world at Heald’s House.
Charlotte was not alone in returning to the teaching profession. In September, Emily, who was now twenty years old, sought paid employment for the first time. Miss Wooler could not afford to employ another teacher at Dewsbury Moor, so Emily had to look elsewhere and found herself a post at Law Hill, a girls’ school at Southowram on the outskirts of Halifax.
Law Hill is little changed today. It stands in glorious isolation high on a hillside with panoramic views across miles of open moor and farmland. To the north lie Queensbury and Shelf, to the southeast, across the wooded grounds of Kirklees Hall, are the familiar landmarks of the tower of Patrick’s old church at Hartshead and the site of Roe Head. On a clear day, the view extends far into the heart of the East Riding. Below the house, the hillside falls away steeply into the beautiful wooded Shibden Valley; the village of Southowram is a good half mile further down the hill and its church, which the ladies of Law Hill attended, is another half mile beyond the village.
The house itself had once belonged to a gentleman farmer and it reflects that comparative wealth and solidity. Built of blackened sandstone, the house is square and austere, three storeys high with large sash windows, one on each side of the door and three on each of the upper floors. At the front is a small garden and to the side, across a large cobbled yard with a stone mounting block, was a big stone barn which had been converted into the schoolroom. Out of sight, behind the hill, lay the wealthy and highly cultured town of Halifax. Besides giving the girls an enviable proximity to exhibitions and museums, Halifax attracted eminent musicians from all over Europe. During Emily’s residence, there was a concert by Johann Strauss and his waltz band, who performed to great applause in the Halifax theatre. In terms of location, therefore, Law Hill had much to offer Emily.26
The school was well established and had been run for many years by Elizabeth and Maria Patchett, sisters of a Halifax banker. The younger sister, who was described as ‘very gentle’, had got married and gone to live in Dewsbury almost exactly a year before Emily’s appointment. It was possibly through her that Emily found out about the situation, for her husband was Titus Senior Br
ooke. Patrick knew the Brookes from his days as a curate in Dewsbury and Leah and Maria Brooke had both been at school with Charlotte. Though the post may have come to Emily’s notice by word of mouth from the Dewsbury district, it is just as likely that she responded to an advertisement in the local press.27
Opinion was divided about Elizabeth Patchett, the forty-two-year-old spinster who remained in charge of the school. According to her former pupils, she was a very beautiful woman, who wore her hair in long curls and was a skilful rider. She was fond of teaching, a kind schoolmistress and the daily walks in her company were much prized. On the other hand, a contemporary who lived near the school in the winter of 1836–7 described her as ‘stately and austere. We always understood she knew how to keep things in order’.28 This seems to have been the Brontë view of the school. Even Charlotte was forced to admit that Emily’s lot was harder than her own.
My sister Emily is gone into a Situation as teacher in a large school of near forty pupils near Halifax. I have had one letter from her since her departure it gives an appalling account of her duties – Hard labour from six in the morning until near eleven at night,. with only one half-hour of exercise between – this is slavery I fear she will never stand it.29
Of the forty-odd pupils at the school, all aged between eleven and fifteen, approximately half were boarders, hence the lateness of the hours Emily had to work. Despite its size, Miss Patchett ran her school with just two other teachers, so Emily’s workload would inevitably have been greater than Charlotte’s.30
Emily did not stand the ‘slavery’ of Law Hill for long. As had happened before at Roe Head, her health broke down under the strain of living in the disciplined and demanding atmosphere of a boarding school. This was a fairly gradual process; Emily’s first term does not appear to have been particularly unhappy. According to several old pupils who remembered her, she was not unpopular ‘though she could not easily associate with others, and her work was hard because she had not the faculty of doing it quickly’. The only recorded incident concerning her which survives from this time is typical: one schoolgirl remembered that Emily was devoted to the house dog and once told her class that it was dearer to her than any of them were.31
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