Charlotte Bronte and Her Circle Part 15

_How little know we what we are_ _How less what we may be_!

_Four years ago I was at school_. _Since then I have been a governess at Blake Hall_, _left it_, _come to Thorp Green_, _and seen the sea and York Minster_. _Emily has been a teacher at Miss Patchet's school_, _and left it_. _Charlotte has left Miss Wooler's_, _been a governess at Mrs. Sidgwick's_, _left her_, _and gone to Mrs. White's_. _Branwell has given up painting_, _been a tutor in c.u.mberland_, _left it_, _and become a clerk on the railroad_. _Tabby has left us_, _Martha Brown has come in her place_. _We have got Keeper_, _got a sweet little cat and lost it_, _and also got a hawk_. _Got a wild goose which has flown away_, _and three tame ones_, _one of which has been killed_. _All these diversities_, _with many others_, _are things we did not expect or foresee in the July of_ 1837. _What will the next four years bring forth_? _Providence only knows_. _But we ourselves have sustained very little alteration since that time_. _I have the same faults that I had then_, _only I have more wisdom and experience_, _and a little more self-possession than I then enjoyed_. _How will it be when we open this paper and the one Emily has written_? _I wonder whether the Gondaliand will still be flourishing_, _and what will be their condition_. _I am now engaged in writing the fourth volume of Solala Vernon's Life_.

_For some time I have looked upon_ 25 _as a sort of era in my existence_. _It may prove a true presentiment_, _or it may be only a superst.i.tious fancy_; _the latter seems most likely_, _but time will show_.

_Anne Bronte_.

Let us next take up the other two little sc.r.a.ps of paper. They are dated July the 30th, 1845, or Emily's twenty-seventh birthday. Many things have happened, as she says. She has been to Brussels, and she has settled definitely at home again. They are still keenly interested in literature, and we still hear of the Gondals. There is wonderfully little difference in the tone or spirit of the journals. The concluding 'best wishes for this whole house till July the 30th, 1848, and as much longer as may be,' contain no premonition of coming disaster. Yet July 1848 was to find Branwell Bronte on the verge of the grave, and Emily on her deathbed. She died on the 14th of December of that year.

_Haworth_, _Thursday_, _July_ 30_th_, 1845.

_My birthday_--_showery_, _breezy_, _cool_. _I am twenty-seven years old to-day_. _This morning Anne and I opened the papers we wrote four years since_, _on my twenty-third birthday_. _This paper we intend_, _if all be well_, _to open on my thirtieth_--_three years hence_, _in_ 1848. _Since the_ 1841 _paper the following events have taken place_. _Our school scheme has been abandoned_, _and instead Charlotte and I went to Brussels on the_ 8_th_ _of February_ 1842.

_Branwell left his place at Luddenden Foot_. _C. and I returned from Brussels_, _November_ 8_th_ 1842, _in consequence of aunt's death_.

_Branwell went to Thorp Green as a tutor_, _where Anne still continued_, _January_ 1843.

_Charlotte returned to Brussels the same month_, _and_, _after staying a year_, _came back again on New Year's Day_ 1844.

_Anne left her situation at Thorp Green of her own accord_, _June_ 1845.

_Anne and I went our first long journey by ourselves together_, _leaving home on the_ 30_th_ _of June_, _Monday_, _sleeping at York_, _returning to Keighley Tuesday evening_, _sleeping there and walking home on Wednesday morning_. _Though the weather was broken we enjoyed ourselves very much_, _except during a few hours at Bradford_. _And during our_ _excursion we were_, _Ronald Macalgin_, _Henry Angora_, _Juliet Augusteena_, _Rosabella Esmaldan_, _Ella and Julian Egremont_, _Catharine Navarre_, _and Cordelia Fitzaphnold_, _escaping from the palaces of instruction to join the Royalists who are hard driven at present by the victorious Republicans_. _The Gondals still flourish bright as ever_. _I am at present writing a work on the First War_. _Anne has been writing some articles on this_, _and a book by Henry Sophona_. _We intend sticking firm by the rascals as long as they delight us_, _which I am glad to say they do at present_. _I should have mentioned that last summer the school scheme was revived in full vigour_. _We had prospectuses printed_, _despatched letters to all acquaintances imparting our plans_, _and did our little all_; _but it was found no go_. _Now I don't desire a school at all_, _and none of us have any great longing for it_. _We have cash enough for our present wants_, _with a prospect of acc.u.mulation_. _We are all in decent health_, _only that papa has a complaint in his eyes_, _and with the exception of B._, _who_, _I hope_, _will be better and do better hereafter_. _I am quite contented for myself_: _not as idle as formerly_, _altogether as hearty_, _and having learnt to make the most of the present and long for the future with the fidgetiness that I cannot do all I wish_; _seldom or ever troubled with nothing to do_, _and merely desiring that everybody could be as comfortable as myself and as undesponding_, _and then we should have a very tolerable world of it_.

_By mistake I find we have opened the paper on the_ 31_st_ _instead of the_ 30_th_. _Yesterday was much such a day as this_, _but the morning was divine_.

_Tabby_, _who was gone in our last paper_, _is come back_, _and has lived with us two years and a half_; _and is in good health_.

_Martha_, _who also departed_, _is here too_. _We have got Flossy_; _got and lost Tiger_; _lost the hawk Hero_, _which_, _with the geese_, _was given away_, _and is doubtless dead_, _for when I came back from Brussels I inquired on all hands and could_ _hear nothing of him_. _Tiger died early last year_. _Keeper and Flossy are well_, _also the canary acquired four years since_. _We are now all at home_, _and likely to be there some time_. _Branwell went to Liverpool on Tuesday to stay a week_. _Tabby has just been teasing me to turn as formerly to_ '_Pilloputate_.' _Anne and I should have picked the black currants if it had been fine and sunshiny_. _I must hurry off now to my turning and ironing_. _I have plenty of work on hands_, _and writing_, _and am altogether full of business_. _With best wishes for the whole house till_ 1848, _July_ 30_th_, _and as much longer as may be_,--_I conclude_.

_Emily Bronte_.

Finally, I give Anne's last fragment, concerning which silence is essential. Interpretation of most of the references would be mere guess-work.

_Thursday_, _July the_ 31_st_, 1845. _Yesterday was Emily's birthday_, _and the time when we should have opened our_ 1845 _paper_, _but by mistake we opened it to-day instead_. _How many things have happened since it was written_--_some pleasant_, _some far otherwise_. _Yet I was then at Thorp Green_, _and now I am only just escaped from it_. _I was wishing to leave it then_, _and if I had known that I had four years longer to stay how wretched I should have been_; _but during my stay I have had some very unpleasant and undreamt-of experience of human nature_. _Others have seen more changes_. _Charlotte has left Mr. White's and been twice to Brussels_, _where she stayed each time nearly a year_. _Emily has been there too_, _and stayed nearly a year_. _Branwell has left Luddenden Foot_, _and been a tutor at Thorp Green_, _and had much tribulation and ill health_. _He was very ill on Thursday_, _but he went with John Brown to Liverpool_, _where he now is_, _I suppose_; _and we hope he will be better and do better in future_. _This is a dismal_, _cloudy_, _wet evening_. _We have had so far a very cold wet summer_. _Charlotte has lately been to Hathersage_, _in_ _Derbyshire_, _on a visit of three weeks to Ellen Nussey_. _She is now sitting sewing in the dining-room_. _Emily is ironing upstairs_.

_I am sitting in the dining-room in the rocking-chair before the fire with my feet on the fender_. _Papa is in the parlour_. _Tabby and Martha are_, _I think_, _in the kitchen_. _Keeper and Flossy are_, _I do not know where_. _Little d.i.c.k is hopping in his cage_. _When the last paper was written we were thinking of setting up a school_.

_The scheme has been dropt_, _and long after taken up again and dropt again because we could not get pupils_. _Charlotte is thinking about getting another situation_. _She wishes to go to Paris_. _Will she go_? _She has let Flossy in_, _by-the-by_, _and he is now lying on the sofa_. _Emily is engaged in writing the Emperor Julius's life_.

_She has read some of it_, _and I want very much to hear the rest_.

_She is writing some poetry_, _too_. _I wonder what it is about_?

_I have begun the third volume of Pa.s.sages in the Life of an Individual_. _I wish I had finished it_. _This afternoon I began to set about making my grey figured silk frock that was dyed at Keighley_. _What sort of a hand shall I make of it_? _E. and I have a great deal of work to do_. _When shall we sensibly diminish it_?

_I want to get a habit of early rising_. _Shall I succeed_? _We have not yet finished our Gondal Chronicles that we began three years and a half ago_. _When will they be done_? _The Gondals are at present in a sad state_. _The Republicans are uppermost_, _but the Royalists are not quite overcome_. _The young sovereigns_, _with their brothers and sisters_, _are still at the Palace of Instruction_. _The Unique Society_, _above half a year ago_, _were wrecked on a desert island as they were returning from Gaul_. _They are still there_, _but we have not played at them much yet_. _The Gondals in general are not in first-rate playing condition_. _Will they improve_? _I wonder how we shall all be and where and how situated on the thirtieth of July_ 1848, _when_, _if we are all alive_, _Emily will be just_ 30. _I shall_ _be in my_ 29th _year_, _Charlotte in her_ 33rd, _and Branwell in his_ 32nd; _and what changes shall we have seen and known_; _and shall we be much changed ourselves_? _I hope not_, _for the worse at least_. _I for my part cannot well be flatter or older in mind than I am now_. _Hoping for the best_, _I conclude_.

_Anne Bronte_.

Exactly fifty years were to elapse before these pieces of writing saw the light. The interest which must always centre in Emily Bronte amply justifies my publishing a fragment in facsimile; and it has the greater moment on account of the rough drawing which Emily has made of herself and of her dog Keeper. Emily's taste for drawing is a pathetic element in her always pathetic life. I have seen a number of her sketches.

There is one in the possession of Mr. Nicholls of Keeper and Flossy, the former the bull-dog which followed her to the grave, the latter a little King Charlie which one of the Miss Robinsons gave to Anne. The sketch, however, like most of Emily's drawings, is technically full of errors.

She was not a born artist, and possibly she had not the best opportunities of becoming one by hard work. Another drawing before me is of the hawk mentioned in the above fragment; and yet another is of the dog Growler, a predecessor of Keeper, which is not, however, mentioned in the correspondence. Upon Emily Bronte, the poet, I do not propose to write here. She left behind her, and Charlotte preserved, a ma.n.u.script volume containing the whole of the poems in the two collections of her verse, and there are other poems not yet published. Here, for example, are some verses in which the Gondals make a slight reappearance.

[Picture: Facsimile of two pages of Emily Bronte's Diary]

'_May_ 21_st_, 1838.

GLENEDEN'S DREAM.

'Tell me, whether is it winter?

Say how long my sleep has been.

Have the woods I left so lovely Lost their robes of tender green?

'Is the morning slow in coming?

Is the night time loth to go?

Tell me, are the dreary mountains Drearier still with drifted snow?

'"Captive, since thou sawest the forest, All its leaves have died away, And another March has woven Garlands for another May.

'"Ice has barred the Arctic waters; Soft Southern winds have set it free; And once more to deep green valley Golden flowers might welcome thee."

'Watcher in this lonely prison, Shut from joy and kindly air, Heaven descending in a vision Taught my soul to do and bear.

'It was night, a night of winter, I lay on the dungeon floor, And all other sounds were silent-- All, except the river's roar.

'Over Death and Desolation, Fireless hearths, and lifeless homes; Over orphans' heartsick sorrows, Patriot fathers' b.l.o.o.d.y tombs;

'Over friends, that my arms never Might embrace in love again; Memory ponderous until madness Struck its poniard in my brain.

'Deepest slumbers followed raving, Yet, methought, I brooded still; Still I saw my country bleeding, Dying for a Tyrant's will.

'Not because my bliss was blasted, Burned within the avenging flame; Not because my scattered kindred Died in woe or lived in shame.

'G.o.d doth know I would have given Every bosom dear to me, Could that sacrifice have purchased Tortured Gondal's liberty!

'But that at Ambition's bidding All her cherished hopes should wane, That her n.o.blest sons should muster, Strive and fight and fall in vain.

'Hut and castle, hall and cottage, Roofless, crumbling to the ground, Mighty Heaven, a glad Avenger Thy eternal Justice found.

'Yes, the arm that once would shudder Even to grieve a wounded deer, I beheld it, unrelenting, Clothe in blood its sovereign's prayer.

'Glorious Dream! I saw the city Blazing in Imperial shine, And among adoring thousands Stood a man of form divine.

'None need point the princely victim-- Now he smiles with royal pride!

Now his glance is bright as lightning, Now the knife is in his side!

'Ah! I saw how death could darken, Darken that triumphant eye!

His red heart's blood drenched my dagger; My ear drank his dying sigh!

'Shadows come! what means this midnight?

O my G.o.d, I know it all!

Know the fever dream is over, Unavenged, the Avengers fall!'

There are, indeed, a few fragments, all written in that tiny handwriting which the girls affected, and bearing various dates from 1833 to 1840. A new edition of Emily's poems, will, by virtue of these verses, have a singular interest for her admirers. With all her gifts as a poet, however, it is by _Wuthering Heights_ that Emily Bronte is best known to the world; and the weirdness and force of that book suggest an inquiry concerning the influences which produced it. Dr. Wright, in his entertaining book, _The Brontes in Ireland_, recounts the story of Patrick Bronte's origin, and insists that it was in listening to her father's anecdotes of his own Irish experiences that Emily obtained the weird material of _Wuthering Heights_. It is not, of course, enough to point out that Dr. Wright's story of the Irish Brontes is full of contradictions. A number of tales picked up at random from an illiterate peasantry might very well abound in inconsistencies, and yet contain some measure of truth. But nothing in Dr. Wright's narrative is confirmed, save only the fact that Patrick Bronte continued throughout his life in some slight measure of correspondence with his brothers and sisters--a fact rendered sufficiently evident by a perusal of his will. Dr. Wright tells of many visits to Ireland in order to trace the Bronte traditions to their source; and yet he had not--in his first edition--marked the elementary fact that the registry of births in County Down records the existence of innumerable Bruntys and of not a single Bronte. Dr. Wright probably made his inquiries with the stories of Emily and Charlotte well in mind. He sought for similar traditions, and the quick-witted Irish peasantry gave him all that he wanted. They served up and embellished the current traditions of the neighbourhood for his benefit, as the peasantry do everywhere for folklore enthusiasts. Charlotte Bronte's uncle Hugh, we are told, read the _Quarterly Review_ article upon _Jane Eyre_, and, armed with a shillelagh, came to England, in order to wreak vengeance upon the writer of the bitter attack. He landed at Liverpool, walked from Liverpool to Haworth, saw his nieces, who 'gathered round him,' and listened to his account of his mission. He then went to London and made abundant inquiries--but why pursue this ludicrous story further?

In the first place, the _Quarterly Review_ article was published in December 1848--after Emily was dead, and while Anne was dying. Very soon after the review appeared Charlotte was informed of its authorship, and references to Miss Rigby and the _Quarterly_ are found more than once in her correspondence with Mr. Williams. {158}