Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Charlotte, Emily, Anne Brontë (Illustrated) (563 page)

‘M. Branwell.

‘Mr. Fennell requests Mr. Bedford to call on the man who has had orders to make blankets for the Grove and desire him to send them as soon as possible.  Mr. Fennell will be greatly obliged to Mr. Bedford if he will take this trouble.’

TO REV. PATRICK BRONTË, A.B., Hartshead

‘Wood House Grove,
November
18
th
, 1812.

‘My dear saucy Pat, — Now don’t you think you deserve this epithet far more than I do that which you have given me?  I really know not what to make of the beginning of your last; the winds, waves, and rocks almost stunned me.  I thought you were giving me the account of some terrible dream, or that you had had a presentiment of the fate of my poor box, having no idea that your lively imagination could make so much of the slight reproof conveyed in my last.  What will you say when you get a
real
,
downright scolding
?  Since you show such a readiness to atone
 
for your offences after receiving a mild rebuke, I am inclined to hope you will seldom deserve a severe one.  I accept with pleasure your atonement, and send you a free and full forgiveness.  But I cannot allow that your affection is more deeply rooted than mine.  However, we will dispute no more about this, but rather embrace every opportunity to prove its sincerity and strength by acting in every respect as friends and fellow-pilgrims travelling the same road, actuated by the same motives, and having in view the same end.  I think if our lives are spared twenty years hence I shall then pray for you with the same, if not greater, fervour and delight that I do now.  I am pleased that you are so fully convinced of my candour, for to know that you suspected me of a deficiency in this virtue would grieve and mortify me beyond expression.  I do not derive any merit from the possession of it, for in me it is constitutional.  Yet I think where it is possessed it will rarely exist alone, and where it is wanted there is reason to doubt the existence of almost every other virtue.  As to the other qualities which your partiality attributes to me, although I rejoice to know that I stand so high in your good opinion, yet I blush to think in how small a degree I possess them.  But it shall be the pleasing study of my future life to gain such an increase of grace and wisdom as shall enable me to act up to your highest expectations and prove to you a helpmeet.  I firmly believe the Almighty has set us apart for each other; may we, by earnest, frequent prayer, and every possible exertion, endeavour to fulfil His will in all things!  I do not, cannot, doubt your love, and here I freely declare I love you above all the world besides.  I feel very, very grateful to the great Author of all our mercies for His unspeakable love and condescension towards us, and desire “to show forth my gratitude not only with my lips, but by my life and conversation.”  I indulge a hope that our mutual prayers will be answered, and that our intimacy will tend much to promote our temporal and eternal interest.

[‘I suppose you never expected to be much the richer for me, but I am sorry to inform you that I am still poorer than I
 
thought myself.  I mentioned having sent for my books, clothes, etc.  On Saturday evening about the time you were writing the description of your imaginary shipwreck, I was reading and feeling the effects of a real one, having then received a letter from my sister giving me an account of the vessel in which she had sent my box being stranded on the coast of Devonshire, in consequence of which the box was dashed to pieces with the violence of the sea, and all my little property, with the exception of a very few articles, swallowed up in the mighty deep.  If this should not prove the prelude to something worse, I shall think little of it, as it is the first disastrous circumstance which has occurred since I left my home],
  
and having been so highly favoured it would be highly ungrateful in me were I to suffer this to dwell much on my mind.

‘Mr. Morgan was here yesterday, indeed he only left this morning.  He mentioned having written to invite you to Bierly on Sunday next, and if you complied with his request it is likely that we shall see you both here on Sunday evening.  As we intend going to Leeds next week, we should be happy if you would accompany us on Monday or Tuesday.  I mention this by desire of Miss Fennell, who begs to be remembered affectionately to you.  Notwithstanding Mr. Fennell’s complaints and threats, I doubt not but he will give you a cordial reception whenever you think fit to make your appearance at the Grove.  Which you may likewise be assured of receiving from your ever truly affectionate,

Maria.

‘Both the doctor and his lady very much wish to know what kind of address we make use of in our letters to each other.  I think they would scarcely hit on
this
!!’

TO REV. PATRICK BRONTË, A.B., Hartshead

‘Wood House Grove,
December
5
th
, 1812.

‘My dearest Friend, — So you
thought
that
perhaps
I
might
expect to hear from you.  As the case was so doubtful, and you
 
were in such great haste, you might as well have deferred writing a few days longer, for you seem to suppose it is a matter of perfect indifference to me whether I hear from you or not.  I believe I once requested you to judge of my feelings by your own — am I to think that
you
are thus indifferent?  I feel very unwilling to entertain such an opinion, and am grieved that you should suspect me of such a cold, heartless, attachment.  But I am too serious on the subject; I only meant to rally you a little on the beginning of your last, and to tell you that I fancied there was a coolness in it which none of your former letters had contained.  If this fancy was groundless, forgive me for having indulged it, and let it serve to convince you of the sincerity and warmth of my affection.  Real love is ever apt to suspect that it meets not with an equal return; you must not wonder then that my fears are sometimes excited.  My pride cannot bear the idea of a diminution of your attachment, or to think that it is stronger on my side than on yours.  But I must not permit my pen so fully to disclose the feelings of my heart, nor will I tell you whether I am pleased or not at the thought of seeing you on the appointed day.

‘Miss Fennell desires her kind regards, and, with her father, is extremely obliged to you for the trouble you have taken about the carpet, and has no doubt but it will give full satisfaction.  They think there will be no occasion for the green cloth.

‘We intend to set about making the cakes here next week, but as the fifteen or twenty persons whom you mention live probably somewhere in your neighbourhood, I think it will be most convenient for Mrs. B. to make a small one for the purpose of distributing there, which will save us the difficulty of sending so far.

‘You may depend on my learning my lessons as rapidly as they are given me.  I am already tolerably perfect in the A B C, etc.  I am much obliged to you for the pretty little hymn which I have already got by heart, but cannot promise to sing it scientifically, though I will endeavour to gain a little more assurance.

 
‘Since I began this Jane put into my hands Lord Lyttelton’s
Advice to a Lady
.  When I read those lines, “Be never cool reserve with passion joined, with caution choose, but then be fondly kind, etc.” my heart smote me for having in some cases used too much reserve towards you.  Do you think you have any cause to complain of me?  If you do, let me know it.  For were it in my power to prevent it, I would in no instance occasion you the least pain or uneasiness.  I am certain no one ever loved you with an affection more pure, constant, tender, and ardent than that which I feel.  Surely this is not saying too much; it is the truth, and I trust you are worthy to know it.  I long to improve in every religious and moral quality, that I may be a help, and if possible an ornament to you.  Oh let us pray much for wisdom and grace to fill our appointed stations with propriety, that we may enjoy satisfaction in our own souls, edify others, and bring glory to the name of Him who has so wonderfully preserved, blessed, and brought us together.

‘If there is anything in the commencement of this which looks like pettishness, forgive it; my mind is now completely divested of every feeling of the kind, although I own I am sometimes too apt to be overcome by this disposition.

‘Let me have the pleasure of hearing from you again as soon as convenient.  This writing is uncommonly bad, but I too am in haste.

‘Adieu, my dearest. — I am your affectionate and sincere

‘Maria.’

Mr. Brontë was at Hartshead, where he married, for five years, and there his two eldest children, Maria and Elizabeth, were born.  He then moved to Thornton, near Bradford, where Charlotte was born on the 21st of April 1816, Branwell in 1817, Emily in 1818, and Anne in 1819.  In 1820 the family removed to the parsonage of Haworth, and in 1821 the poor mother was dead.  A year or two later Miss Elizabeth Branwell came from Penzance to act as a mother to her orphaned nephew and nieces.  There is no reason to accept the theory that Miss Branwell was quite
 
as formidable or offensive a personage as the Mrs. Read in
Jane Eyre
.  That she was a somewhat rigid and not over demonstrative woman, we may take for granted.  The one letter to her of any importance that I have seen — it is printed in Mrs. Gaskell’s life — was the attempt of Charlotte to obtain her co-operation in the projected visit to a Brussels school.  Miss Branwell provided the money readily enough it would seem, and one cannot doubt that in her later years she was on the best of terms with her nieces.  There may have been too much discipline in childhood, but discipline which would now be considered too severe was common enough at the beginning of the century.  The children, we may be sure, were left abundantly alone.  The writing they accomplished in their early years would sufficiently demonstrate that.  Miss Branwell died in 1842; and from her will, which I give elsewhere, it will be seen that she behaved very justly to her three nieces.

The reception by Mr. Brontë of his children’s literary successes has been very pleasantly recorded by Charlotte.  He was proud of his daughters, and delighted with their fame.  He seems to have had no small share of their affection.  Charlotte loved and esteemed him.  There are hundreds of her letters, in many of which are severe and indeed unprintable things about this or that individual; but of her father these letters contain not one single harsh word.  She wrote to him regularly when absent.  Not only did he secure the affection of his daughter, but the people most intimately associated with him next to his own children gave him a lifelong affection and regard.  Martha Brown, the servant who lived with him until his death, always insisted that her old master had been grievously wronged, and that a kinder, more generous, and in every way more worthy man had never lived.  Nancy Garrs, another servant, always spoke of Mr. Brontë as ‘the kindest man who ever drew breath,’ and as a good and affectionate father.  Forty years have gone by
 
since Charlotte Brontë died; and thirty-six years have flown since Mr. Nicholls left the deathbed of his wife’s father; but through all that period he has retained the most kindly memories of one with whom his life was intimately associated for sixteen years, with whom at one crisis of his life, as we shall see, he had a serious difference, but whom he ever believed to have been an entirely honourable and upright man.

A lady visitor to Haworth in December 1860 did not, it is true, carry away quite so friendly an impression.  ‘I have been to see old Mr. Brontë,’ she writes, ‘and have spent about an hour with him.  He is completely confined to his bed, but talks hopefully of leaving it again when the summer comes round.  I am afraid that it will not be leaving it as he plans, poor old man!  He is touchingly softened by illness; but still talks in his pompous way, and mingles moral remarks and somewhat stale sentiments with his conversation on ordinary subjects.’  This is severe, but after all it was a literary woman who wrote it.  On the whole we may safely assume, with the evidence before us, that Mr. Brontë was a thoroughly upright and honourable man who came manfully through a somewhat severe life battle.  That is how his daughters thought of him, and we cannot do better than think with them.
 

 
Mr. Brontë died on June 7, 1861, and his funeral in Haworth Church is described in the
Bradford Review
of the following week: —

‘Great numbers of people had collected in the churchyard, and a few minutes before noon the corpse was brought out through the eastern gate of the garden leading into the churchyard.  The Rev. Dr. Burnet, Vicar of Bradford, read the funeral service, and led the way into the church, and the following clergymen were the bearers of the coffin: The Rev. Dr. Cartman of Skipton; Rev. Mr. Sowden of Hebden Bridge; the Incumbents of Cullingworth, Oakworth, Morton, Oxenhope, and St. John’s Ingrow.  The chief mourners were the Rev. Arthur Bell Nicholls, son-in-law of the deceased; Martha Brown, the housekeeper; and her sister; Mrs. Brown, and Mrs. Wainwright.  There were several gentlemen followed the corpse whom we did not know.  All the shops in Haworth were closed, and the people filled every pew, and the aisles in the church, and many shed tears during the impressive reading of the service for the burial of the dead, by the vicar.  The body of Mr. Brontë was laid within the altar rails, by the side of his daughter Charlotte.  He is the last that can be interred inside of Haworth Church.  On the coffin was this inscription: “Patrick Brontë, died June 7th, 1861, aged 84 years.”’