Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Charlotte, Emily, Anne Brontë (Illustrated) (571 page)

The twenty-eighth day of December
, 1842,
the Will of
Elizabeth Branwell,
late of Haworth
,
in the parish of Bradford
,
in the county of York
,
spinster (having bona notabilia within the province of York
). 
Deceased was proved in the prerogative court of York by the oaths of the Reverend Patrick Brontë
,
clerk
,
brother-in-law
;
and George Taylor
,
two of the executors to whom administration was granted
(
the Reverend Theodore Dury
,
another of the executors
,
having renounced
),
they having been first sworn duly to administer
.

Effects sworn under £1500.

Testatrix died 29th October 1842.

Now hear Mrs. Gaskell: —

The small property
,
which she had accumulated by dint of personal frugality and self-denial
,
was bequeathed to her nieces
. 
Branwell
,
her darling
,
was to have had his share
,
but his reckless expenditure had distressed the good old lady
,
and his name was omitted in her will
.

A perusal of the will in question indicates that it was made in 1833, before Branwell had paid his first visit to London, and when, as all his family supposed, he was on the high road to fame and fortune as an artist.  The old lady doubtless thought that the boy would be able to take
 
good care of himself.  She had, indeed, other nieces down in Cornwall, but with the general sympathy of her friends and relatives in Penzance, Elizabeth Jane Kingston, who it was thought would want it most, was to have a share.  Had the Kingston girl, her mother, and the Brontë girls all died before him, the boy Branwell, it will be seen, would have shared the property with his Branwell cousins in Penzance, of whom two are still alive.  In any case, Branwell’s name was mentioned, and he received ‘my Japan dressing-box,’ whatever that may have been worth.

Three or four letters, above and beyond these already published, were written by Charlotte to her friend in the interval between Miss Branwell’s death and her return to Brussels; and she paid a visit to Miss Nussey at Brookroyd, and it was returned.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

‘Haworth,
November
20
th
, 1842.

‘Dear Ellen, — I hope your brother is sufficiently recovered now to dispense with your constant attendance.  Papa desires his compliments to you, and says he should be very glad if you could give us your company at Haworth a little while.  Can you come on Friday next?  I mention so early a day because Anne leaves us to return to York on Monday, and she wishes very much to see you before her departure.  I think your brother is too good-natured to object to your coming.  There is little enough pleasure in this world, and it would be truly unkind to deny to you and me that of meeting again after so long a separation.  Do not fear to find us melancholy or depressed.  We are all much as usual.  You will see no difference from our former demeanour.  Send an immediate answer.

‘My love and best wishes to your sister and mother.

‘C. Brontë.’

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

‘Haworth,
November
25
th
, 1842.

‘My dear Ellen, — I hope that invitation of yours was given
 
in real earnest, for I intend to accept it.  I wish to see you, and as in a few weeks I shall probably again leave England, I will not be too delicate and ceremonious and so let the present opportunity pass.  Something says to me that it will not be too convenient to have a guest at Brookroyd while there is an invalid there — however, I listen to no such suggestions.  Anne leaves Haworth on Tuesday at 6 o’clock in the morning, and we should reach Bradford at half-past eight.  There are many reasons why I should have preferred your coming to Haworth, but as it appears there are always obstacles which prevent that, I’ll break through ceremony, or pride, or whatever it is, and, like Mahomet, go to the mountain which won’t or can’t come to me.  The coach stops at the Bowling Green Inn, in Bradford.  Give my love to your sister and mother.

‘C. Brontë.’

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

‘Haworth,
January
10
th
, 1843.

‘Dear Nell, — It is a singular state of things to be obliged to write and have nothing worth reading to say.  I am glad you got home safe.  You are an excellent good girl for writing to me two letters, especially as they were such long ones.  Branwell wants to know why you carefully exclude all mention of him when you particularly send your regards to every other member of the family.  He desires to know whether and in what he has offended you, or whether it is considered improper for a young lady to mention the gentlemen of a house.  We have been one walk on the moors since you left.  We have been to Keighley, where we met a person of our acquaintance, who uttered an interjection of astonishment on meeting us, and when he could get his breath, informed us that he had heard I was dead and buried.

‘C. Brontë.’

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

‘Haworth,
January
15
th
, 1843.

‘Dear Nell, — I am much obliged to you for transferring the roll of muslin.  Last Saturday I found the other gift, for which you deserve smothering.  I will deliver Branwell your message. 
 
You have left your Bible — how can I send it?  I cannot tell precisely what day I leave home, but it will be the last week in this month.  Are you going with me?  I admire exceedingly the costume you have chosen to appear in at the Birstall rout.  I think you say pink petticoat, black jacket, and a wreath of roses — beautiful!  For a change I would advise a black coat, velvet stock and waistcoat, white pantaloons, and smart boots.  Address Rue d’Isabelle.  Write to me again, that’s a good girl, very soon.  Respectful remembrances to your mother and sister.

‘C. Brontë.’

Then she is in Brussels again, as the following letter indicates.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

‘Brussels,
January
30
th
, 1843.

‘Dear Ellen, — I left Leeds for London last Friday at nine o’clock; owing to delay we did not reach London till ten at night — two hours after time.  I took a cab the moment I arrived at Euston Square, and went forthwith to London Bridge Wharf.  The packet lay off that wharf, and I went on board the same night.  Next morning we sailed.  We had a prosperous and speedy voyage, and landed at Ostend at seven o’clock next morning.  I took the train at twelve and reached Rue d’Isabelle at seven in the evening.  Madame Héger received me with great kindness.  I am still tired with the continued excitement of three days’ travelling.  I had no accident, but of course some anxiety.  Miss Dixon called this afternoon.
 
  Mary Taylor had told her I should be in Brussels the last week in January.  I am going there on Sunday, D.V.  Address — Miss Brontë, Chez Mme. Héger, 32 Rue d’Isabelle, Bruxelles. — Good-bye, dear.

‘C. B.’

This second visit of Charlotte Brontë to Brussels has given rise to much speculation, some of it of not the
 
pleasantest kind.  It is well to face the point bluntly, for it has been more than once implied that Charlotte Brontë was in love with M. Héger, as her prototype Lucy Snowe was in love with Paul Emanuel.  The assumption, which is absolutely groundless, has had certain plausible points in its favour, not the least obvious, of course, being the inclination to read autobiography into every line of Charlotte Brontë’s writings.  Then there is a passage in a printed letter to Miss Nussey which has been quoted as if to bear out this suggestion: ‘I returned to Brussels after aunt’s death,’ she writes, ‘against my conscience, prompted by what then seemed an irresistible impulse.  I was punished for my selfish folly by a total withdrawal for more than two years of happiness and peace of mind.’

It is perfectly excusable for a man of the world, unacquainted with qualifying facts, to assume that for these two years Charlotte Brontë’s heart was consumed with an unquenchable love for her professor — held in restraint, no doubt, as the most censorious admit, but sufficiently marked to secure the jealousy and ill-will of Madame Héger.  Madame Héger and her family, it must be admitted, have kept this impression afloat.  Madame Héger refused to see Mrs. Gaskell when she called upon her in the Rue d’Isabelle; and her daughters will tell you that their father broke off his correspondence with Miss Brontë because his favourite English pupil showed an undue extravagance of devotion.  ‘Her attachment after her return to Yorkshire,’ to quote a recent essay on the subject, ‘was expressed in her frequent letters in a tone that her Brussels friends considered it not only prudent but kind to check.  She was warned by them that the exaltation these letters betrayed needed to be toned down and replaced by what was reasonable.  She was further advised to write only once in six months, and then to limit the subject of her letters to her own health and that of her family, and to a plain account of her circumstances
 
and occupations.’
 
  Now to all this I do not hesitate to give an emphatic contradiction, a contradiction based upon the only independent authority available.  Miss Lætitia Wheelwright and her sisters saw much of Charlotte Brontë during this second sojourn in Brussels, and they have a quite different tale to tell.  That misgiving of Charlotte, by the way, which weighed so heavily upon her mind afterwards, was due to the fact that she had left her father practically unprotected from the enticing company of a too festive curate.  He gave himself up at this time to a very copious whisky drinking, from which Charlotte’s home-coming speedily rescued him.
 

Madame Héger did indeed hate Charlotte Brontë in her later years.  This is not unnatural when we remember how that unfortunate woman has been gibbeted for all time in the characters of Mlle. Zoraïde Reuter and Madame Beck.  But in justice to the creator of these scathing portraits, it may be mentioned that Charlotte Brontë took every precaution to prevent
Villette
from obtaining currency in the city which inspired it.  She told Miss Wheelwright, with whom naturally, on her visits to London, she often discussed the Brussels life, that she had received a promise that there should be no translation, and that the book would never appear in the French language.  One cannot therefore fix upon Charlotte Brontë any responsibility for the circumstance that immediately after her death the novel appeared in the only tongue understood by Madame Héger.

Miss Wheelwright informs me that Charlotte Brontë did certainly admire M. Héger, as did all his pupils, very heartily.  Charlotte’s first impression, indeed, was not flattering: ‘He is professor of rhetoric, a man of power as to mind, but
 
very choleric and irritable in temperament; a little black being, with a face that varies in expression.  Sometimes he borrows the lineaments of an insane tom-cat, sometimes those of a delirious hyena; occasionally, but very seldom, he discards these perilous attractions and assumes an air not above 100 degrees removed from mild and gentleman-like.’  But he was particularly attentive to Charlotte; and as he was the first really intelligent man she had met, the first man, that is to say, with intellectual interests — for we know how much she despised the curates of her neighbourhood — she rejoiced at every opportunity of doing verbal battle with him, for Charlotte inherited, it may be said, the Irish love of debate.  Some time after Charlotte had returned to England, and when in the height of her fame, she met her Brussels school-fellow in London.  Miss Wheelwright asked her whether she still corresponded with M. Héger.  Charlotte replied that she had discontinued to do so.  M. Héger had mentioned in one letter that his wife did not like the correspondence, and he asked her therefore to address her letters to the Royal Athenée, where, as I have mentioned, he gave lessons to the boys.  ‘I stopped writing at once,’ Charlotte told her friend.  ‘I would not have dreamt of writing to him when I found it was disagreeable to his wife; certainly I would not write unknown to her.’  ‘She said this,’ Miss Wheelwright adds, ‘with the sincerity of manner which characterised her every utterance, and I would sooner have doubted myself than her.’  Let, then, this silly and offensive imputation be now and for ever dismissed from the minds of Charlotte Brontë’s admirers, if indeed it had ever lodged there.
 

 
Charlotte had not visited the Wheelwrights in the Rue Royale during her first visit to Brussels.  She had found the companionship of Emily all-sufficing, and Emily was not sufficiently popular with the Wheelwrights to have made her a welcome guest.  They admitted her cleverness, but they considered her hard, unsympathetic, and abrupt in manner.  We know that she was self-contained and homesick, pining for her native moors.  This was not evident to a girl of ten, the youngest of the Wheelwright children, who was compelled to receive daily a music lesson from Emily in her play-hours.  When, however, Charlotte came back to Brussels alone she was heartily welcomed into two or three English families, including those of Mr. Dixon, of the Rev. Mr. Jenkins, and of Dr. Wheelwright.  With the Wheelwright children she sometimes spent the Sunday, and with them she occasionally visited the English Episcopal church which the Wheelwrights attended, and of which the clergyman was a Mr. Drury.  When Dr. Wheelwright took his wife for a Rhine trip in May he left his four children — one little girl had died at Brussels, aged seven, in the preceding November — in the care of Madame Héger at the Pensionnat, and under the immediate supervision of Charlotte.