The Sunday after the public examinations, the Reverend Samuel Redhead, making his first visit to Haworth since he had been so rudely ejected over twenty years before, came to give the afternoon and evening sermons on behalf of the Church Sunday school. Redhead was accompanied by his son-in-law, the Reverend J. Hodgson Ramsbotham, and the pair would undoubtedly have had to be entertained and put up for the night at the parsonage before their return home to Calverley.97 On more secular affairs, Patrick chaired a meeting to discuss the growing problem of the scarcity of water in the township. It was agreed to set up a committee to look into the feasibility of bringing water from the only effective source of supply, a spring at West End on the common. As far as Patrick was concerned, this was the start of a fourteen-year battle to improve the water supply and sanitary arrangements in Haworth. No doubt he was also involved in the meetings which were held to promote and investigate a possible railway link from Keighley up to Haworth, which would have made a considerable difference to the trade of the township.98
Throughout all this activity, Charlotte remained almost stupefied by low spirits. Only Ellen seemed able to rouse her to anything like her old self, inviting her over to Brookroyd for a couple of weeks in March, where she was pampered into feeling somewhat more lively. She returned bearing a gift of Sicilian Pea and crimson cornflower seeds from Ellen to Emily, only to find her sister grieving over the death of the family cat – an animal so pampered that it seemed to have lost a cat’s nature and subsided into luxurious amiability and contentment. The sisters made the most of a spell of good weather by walking out frequently on the moors ‘to the great damage of our shoes but I hope to the benefit of our health’.99
In June, Anne and Branwell came home for their holiday, an occasion which seems to have been marked by a trip out to Bolton Bridge, a local beauty spot, close to the picturesque ruins of Bolton Abbey.100 Though one might have thought that her brother and sister would have welcomed the chance to relax at home without company, Charlotte lost little time in inviting Ellen over for a visit. In the end, she was only able to share the last week of their holiday before they departed to join the Robinsons at Scarborough. Nevertheless, they had an enjoyable time walking on the moors and paying visits. There was ‘plenty of fun & fatigue’ with the Heatons at Ponden Hall, a walk ‘under umbrellas’ in the Greenwoods’ garden at Oxenhope and even a trip to Bradford. Ellen was also gratified to hear Samuel Redhead preach and Tom Parker sing on her last Sunday at Haworth.101 Just as there had been in the days of William Weightman, flirtation was in the air. To the girls’ evident amusement, the new curate, Mr Smith, was particularly attentive to Ellen, arousing semi-serious expectations about his intentions. For the first and only time in his life, Patrick intervened in the family’s affairs of the heart and expressed his views on his curate quite forcibly.
Papa has two or three times expressed a fear that since Mr Smith paid you so much attention he will perhaps have made
Patrick’s unflattering opinion of his curate seems to have been justified, as Charlotte was swift to inform Ellen.
Mr Smith has not mentioned your name since you left – except once when papa said you were a nice girl – he said – ‘Yes – she – is a nice girl – rather quiet– – – I suppose she has no money’ – and that is all – I think the words speak volumes – they do not prejudice one in favour of Mr Smith – I can well believe what papa has often affirmed – and continues to affirm – i.e. that Mr Smith is a very fickle man – that if he marries he will soon get tired of his wife – and consider her as a burden – also that money will be a principal consideration with him in marrying102
Mr Smith’s departure for the curacy of Keighley in the middle of October seems to have been felt as a general relief all round. Patrick had been anxious to find an early replacement and seems to have welcomed his departure, despite the additional duties which then devolved on him as a result of the seven-month vacancy.103 Charlotte would later lampoon Smith mercilessly in her novel, Shirley, as the obnoxious and pugnacious Mr Malone whose father ‘termed himself a gentleman: he was poor and in debt, and besottedly arrogant; and his son was like him’.104 Like another of Patrick’s colleagues, Mr Collins, Smith would end his clerical career ignominiously, absconding four years later to Canada without the knowledge of his friends and family and leaving behind a mass of debts, including money that he had been given for charitable purposes but had appropriated for his own use.105 The curates in Shirley were milksops compared to the real ones of Charlotte’s experience.
The family gathering in the summer prompted some discussions about the Brontës’ future and an important decision was taken. Teaching was really the only option and, as Charlotte had pointed out, everyone expected her to open a school on her return from Brussels. Unwilling to leave home again, Charlotte now settled on a slightly different plan. She would open her school in the parsonage, beginning with five or six girls who would board in the rooms vacated by Anne and Branwell. The new scheme had some obvious advantages which allowed Patrick to give it his full support. It would avoid the problem of an initial expensive outlay in buying or renting a property and fitting it out and, if it failed, there would be no great financial loss. The housekeeping duties could be taken on by Emily, who would not have to leave their father unattended and could easily expand her present role to care for a small number of girls with the assistance of tried and trusted servants. ‘Emily does not like teaching much’, Charlotte told Monsieur Heger, ‘but she would always do the housekeeping and, although she is a little reclusive, she has too good a heart not to do everything for the wellbeing of the children.’106 On the other hand, there were two great disadvantages. Should Patrick die, the school would be evicted from the parsonage, either to close or relocate elsewhere. Perhaps more importantly, Haworth was too far from any centre of population for the school to be able to draw on the day pupils which would make all the difference to its finances.
Charlotte stirred herself into activity, writing round to old contacts in the hope of securing pupils. The Whites of Upperwood had unfortunately just committed their eldest daughter to Miss Cockhail’s school at Batley, though they indicated that they would have quite happily sent her to Haworth. In view of her family and social connections, Charlotte also wrote to Mrs Busfeild, wife of the present vicar of Keighley, sending her the precious diploma from Monsieur Heger as evidence of her capabilities. Mrs Busfeild’s reaction to the school scheme was typical of that of nearly everyone Charlotte approached: she thought it a praiseworthy idea, that the fees were moderate especially in view of the quality of education offered and that the limited number of pupils was an advantage in that it would ensure more individual attention. She feared, however, that the disadvantage of the ‘retired situation’ would outweigh all the benefits and that the Brontës would find it extremely difficult to attract pupils.107
In fact, the fees were actually quite high compared to similar establishments in the area. The Brontës proposed to offer board and a general education, comprising writing, arithmetic, history, grammar, geography and needlework, at a standard rate of thirty-five pounds a year. In addition, pupils could have lessons in French, German, Latin, music and drawing for an extra guinea per subject per quarter. A small charge of five shillings a quarter would be made for the use of the piano and a further fifteen shillings a quarter for laundry. Each young lady was to be provided with one pair of sheets, pillow cases, four towels, a dessert spoon and a teaspoon. Charlotte had some cards of terms printed, advertising ‘The Misses Brontë’s Establishment’, and sent copies to Ellen to circulate around the Dewsbury area.108
Despite Ellen’s best efforts,
it soon became obvious that the school scheme was getting nowhere. By the beginning of October Charlotte had to write to Ellen to confess as much.
I – Emily & Anne are truly obliged to you for the efforts you have made in our behalf – and if you have not been successful you are only like ourselves – every one wishes us well – but there are no pupils to be had – We have no present intention however of breaking our hearts on the subject – still less of feeling mortified at defeat – The effort must be beneficial whatever the result may be – because it teaches us experience and an additional knowledge of the world109
Ellen continued to dispense cards of terms despite Charlotte’s dire warnings: ‘Depend upon it Ellen if you were to persuade a Mamma to bring her child to Haworth – the aspect of the place would frighten her and she would probably take the dear thing back with her instanter’.110
The school scheme was abandoned with little regret. Patrick and Emily were no doubt relieved that their privacy was not to be invaded by strangers, however few and ladylike the pupils might have been. Anne and Branwell had, of necessity, been excluded, at least in the initial stages, so they too had lost nothing by the school’s failure. Even Charlotte, who had most to lose and gain by the plan, seems to have been little more than perfunctory in attempting to ensure its success. Compared with her single-minded determination to get to Brussels, for instance, her efforts on behalf of the school scheme were desultory. All her drive and enthusiasm had deserted her, all her passion was directed into a futile correspondence with Monsieur Heger and a self-destructive longing to return to Brussels to see him once more. ‘Oh it is certain that I shall see you again one day —’, she wrote to him, ‘it must be – for as soon as I have earned enough money to go to Brussels I will go there – and I will see you again even if it is only for a moment.’ In preparation for that forlorn hope she still learnt half a page of French by heart each day so that she did not forget the language and so that she would not have to remain dumb before him when they next met.111 To Monsieur Heger alone Charlotte confided the pain of her depressed spirits and the consequent lethargy which afflicted her.
I would not know this lethargy if I could write – in the past I could spend days, weeks, whole months writing and not without reward – for Southey and Coleridge – two of our best authors to whom I had sent certain manuscripts were good enough to show their approbation of them – but at present my sight is too weak to write – if I write much I will go blind. This weakness of sight is a terrible privation for me – without it do you know what I would do Monsieur? – I would write a book and I would dedicate it to my literature master – to the only master I have ever had – to you Monsieur. I have often told you in French how much I respect you – how much I am indebted to your goodness, to your advice, I would like to say it once in English – it cannot be – it must not be thought of – the career of letters is closed to me – that of teaching alone is open to me – it does not offer me the same attractions – it does not matter, I will enter it and if I do not go far it will not be for lack of diligence.112
The fact that she was writing in French seems to have broken down the natural reticence and modesty which would once have held Charlotte back from declaring her feelings for any man so openly. It was almost as if the constraints of writing in a foreign language actually liberated her: she could put into French what she could not say in English because she did not have to face up to the hard truth of what she had said. She wrote frequently to Monsieur Heger throughout 1844, though he seems to have destroyed her more excessive outpourings, and even those letters which have survived were torn into pieces and later painstakingly reconstructed.113
The failing eyesight of which Charlotte complained seems to have been a purely imaginary affliction, symptomatic of her depressed state of mind. Her letters to Monsieur Heger and Ellen Nussey show no sign of any difficulty with her eyes: the writing is as tiny, neat and meticulous as ever and, on occasion, a long letter is packed into a half sheet of paper divided into four pages. This is in stark contrast to Patrick, whose approaching blindness is fully borne out by his increasingly large and untidy writing, uncharacteristically marked with blots and heavily punctuated as he paused, pen in hand, to peer at what he had written. This was a return of Charlotte’s morbid depression and resulting hypochondria in the late spring of 1838, which drove her into resignation from Roe Head. Then she had convinced herself that she was suffering from consumption, as she imagined her sister, Anne, and her friend, Mary Taylor, to be. Now, she persuaded herself that she was going blind, like her father. It was certainly a good excuse for not writing a book but, had it been true, it would have made her intention of setting up school totally impractical. Charlotte was simply wallowing in misery and self-pity, unable to shake off her prostration of spirits and afraid to venture out beyond the safe haven of her home. It would take a major crisis to force her to take up the threads of her life again.
Chapter Sixteen
MRS ROBINSON
A crisis was indeed brewing: one that would explode on the unsuspecting Brontë family in the summer of 1845. For the first few months of the new year, however, those at Haworth remained unaware of incipient trouble at Thorp Green. Patrick toiled away, refusing to make any concessions to his fast-failing vision. Charlotte, writing to Ellen, described how
his sight diminishes weekly and can it be wondered at – that as he sees the most precious of his faculties leaving him, his spirits sometimes sink? It is so hard to feel that his few and scanty pleasures must all soon go – he now has the greatest difficulty in either reading or writing – and then he dreads the state of dependence to which blindness will inevitably reduce him – He fears that he will be nothing in his parish –1
Despite being ‘anxious and dejected’, Patrick remained a force to be reckoned with. Though he had once been an outspoken critic of Dr Scoresby’s policies, he also appreciated the good he had done, particularly in the field of education. Dr Scoresby was now threatening to resign because of the weight of parochial opposition to him. Though unable to get to Bradford to attend a meeting to dissuade the vicar from his purpose, Patrick nevertheless sent a strongly worded letter of support.
should the Address you speak of, be one to thank Dr Scoresby, the vicar of Bradford, for his past, able and faithful services, or to
He also lent his beleaguered vicar a show of practical support, inviting him to Haworth to deliver the annual Sunday school sermon in the church.3
Patrick had at long last secured a replacement curate in the place of the unsatisfactory Mr Smith. The Reverend Arthur Bell Nicholls had much in common with his new parson. He was an Irishman, like Patrick, born in January 1819 near Belfast in Northern Ireland. His father, William Nicholls, seems to have been a poor farmer, like Hugh Brontë, but Arthur was orphaned at an early age. From the age of seven he had been brought up and educated by his maternal uncle, Dr Alan Bell, who was headmaster of the renowned Royal School at Banagher in the south of Ireland. Dr Bell seems to have continued his financial support of his nephew, sending him up to Trinity College, Dublin as a fee-paying pensioner in July 1836. He matriculated the following year, in January 1837, when he would have been just eighteen, and he graduated as a Bachelor of Arts almost exactly seven years later, in February 1844.4 When he came to Haworth, he was a young man, twenty-six years old, fresh from his ordination as a deacon at Ripon on 18 May 1845. He took his first duty the following Sunday, 25 May, followed by his first marriage on 28 May and his first burial the following day. Charlotte’s earliest impressions were unusually favourable: ‘he appears a respectable young man, reads well, and I hope will give satisfaction’.5 Within a few months of his arrival he had almost completely taken over all the official duties – a sign not only of Patrick’s failing sight, but also of the fact that the new curate enjoyed his parson’s full confidence.
The fi
nal innovations of this spring were also pleasant ones. On 29 April Patrick convened a meeting in the church vestry to consider raising a subscription to replace the three church bells with a peal of six. The response was enthusiastic and in just over two months enough money had been raised to enable him to place an order for the casting of the bells with Mr Mears of London. By the end of October, the new bells were in place, enabling the team of ringers to join in the new fashion for change-ringing competitions.6 Of greater significance was the building of the first church in the newly created parish of Oakworth, which lay between Haworth and Keighley. This marked the beginning of a more realistic demarcation of the Haworth chapelry borders, belatedly taking into account the population changes over the last few decades. Patrick and Arthur Nicholls were undoubtedly among the clergy who attended the public ceremony on 28 July to lay the foundation stone of the new church.7
Charlotte, meanwhile, moped about at home, unable to forget Monsieur Heger but doing little to help herself to do so. Despite an expense she could ill afford, for instance, she had all the books he had given her bound and took delight in contemplating her ‘little library’.8 When Joe Taylor had announced the previous autumn that he was going to Brussels she seized the opportunity to write to Monsieur Heger, from whom she had heard nothing for over six months. She awaited Joe’s return in the new year with eager anticipation, sure that he would at last bring her a letter. Her disappointment was doubly bitter when he returned empty-handed. In anger and sorrow she wrote reproachfully to Monsieur Heger yet again. ‘Mr Taylor has returned, I asked him if he had a letter for me – “No, nothing”. “Patience” – I say – “His sister will return soon” – Miss Taylor has returned “I have nothing for you from Monsieur Heger” says she “neither a letter nor a message.”’ Unable to contain herself any longer, she burst out in uncontrollable pain and despair.
Brontës Page 67
