These three brutal rejections, and there may have been more we don’t know of, made it quite clear to both Patrick Brontë and Elizabeth Branwell by the start of 1824 that he would never find another wife; with a large family, little income and his advancing years, he was no longer husband material. Even a marriage of convenience between Patrick and his sister-in-law, which might otherwise have been considered for the sake of the children, was impossible because it was outlawed under incest laws.
There was now a big decision to be made by Elizabeth, one that would completely change the course of her life. As the wind howled under the parsonage door, as it was so apt to do, she thought of warmer evenings in joyous Penzance, and the sisters, nephews and nieces she’d left there. Candle fluttering, she walked quietly around the house, past the large grandfather clock that stood in the centre of the staircase, and looked in at the bedrooms where her sister’s children were sleeping. Finally, she entered the room which had for over two-and-a-half years been her own. They were children she had come to love immensely, and there in a small bed in her room slept the quiet, gentle Anne; now just past her fourth birthday and with no memories of her mother, but a great need for one. Elizabeth blew out the candle, the decision was made.
After breakfast Elizabeth informed Patrick of her decision to remain at the parsonage until the children were married or in situations of their own. Patrick nodded his head in silent gratitude. He knew what a vast sacrifice his sister-in-law was making; after all, she had now willingly become, like the phrase used in his letter to John Buckworth, ‘a stranger in a strange land’. No more would she see the rolling waves break upon the rocks of Mount Bay, the shanties and songs would fade from memory, and the year-round warmth of Penzance would be replaced by wet summers and harsh winters that brought colds, coughs and worse.
A letter was sent to Charlotte and Joseph informing them of her decision, and asking for items of her property to be sent on to Haworth. Thankfully, Elizabeth’s goods avoided the shipwrecked fate of Maria’s, and a selection of them can be seen at the Brontë Parsonage Museum. These items allow us an insight into Elizabeth Branwell’s mind and life, and they include a white nightcap with intricate lace adornment, a beautiful smelling salts bottle with gold trimming, pictures of flowers and the initial EB on the back (Maria had a matching salts bottle with MB on the reverse, so perhaps they were a present from their parents), the lacquered dressing case that meant so much to her, and a pair of wood and iron pattens.
These pattens, designed for outside use, were worn by Elizabeth inside the parsonage as well, and are commented upon in two very different descriptions we have of her at this time. Firstly, we have Ellen Nussey’s depiction:
‘Miss Branwell was a very small, antiquated little lady. She wore caps large enough for half a dozen of the present fashion, and in front of light auburn curls over her forehead. She always dressed in silk. She had a horror of the climate so far north, and of the stone floors in the parsonage. She amused us by clicking about in pattens whenever she had to go into the kitchen or look after household operations7.’
Ellen did concede, however, that Elizabeth ‘probably had been pretty8’ in her youth. We also get a rather more flattering description of Elizabeth’s appearance and apparel from reports given to the early-twentieth century Brontë biographer, Ellis Chadwick, by elderly Haworth residents who still recalled the woman from Cornwall:
‘Those who once remembered her told the writer that she was never to be seen without a shoulder shawl, and several of these shawls are still in existence. Shades of purple and mauve were her favourite colours. Her caps, if large, were always dainty, and her dresses good and becoming – a black silk being her favourite for afternoon wear. Fine dresses were not suitable for the stone floors and rough roads of Haworth, but in order to keep her dainty shoes dry and avoid the damp floors she was in the habit of wearing pattens, much to the annoyance of her nieces, whose sensitive nerves were irritated by the constant and peculiar click of the iron rings on the stone floors9.’
Elizabeth’s decision to remain in Haworth was a godsend to Patrick, not only for the assistance she would provide in raising his children, but also for the financial assistance that she contributed. Patrick Brontë earned around £170 per year as Haworth’s priest, but the family income had been supplemented by Maria’s £50 a year that she received from her father’s will. With Maria’s death, this vital addition was gone. The Haworth trustees were also able to withhold part of his wage, if they saw fit, and he also had to pay for any repairs carried out on church land. On 25 August 1825, after having to pay for a particularly expensive repair, he was forced to write to the Queen Anne’s Bounty board, who supported impoverished clergymen, stating that his bills were:
‘A very large amount, rendering the salary inadequate to support my family, even with the most rigorous economy10.’
His request was declined at this time, and further economies had to be made, although he may also have received financial assistance from his friends, including Elizabeth. Patrick Brontë was a proud man, but had no option other than to be realistic, and he could ill-afford to turn down loans and gifts that were offered to him in times of need. Never was this needed more than after the death of Maria, as he had exhausted all his savings and run up considerable debts, in the search for a cure. The Morgans and Fennells, the Elizabeths Firth and Branwell, Reverends Buckworth and Redhead, who unlike Patrick, were clergymen from wealthy backgrounds, and others, cleared Patrick’s debts that would otherwise have led to penury for him and his young family. He received £150 from his friends11, and a banknote for the substantial amount of £50 from ‘a benevolent individual, a wealthy lady, in the West Riding of Yorkshire12’. This woman is now believed to have been a wealthy estate owner from Eshton Hall in North Yorkshire who was noted for her works of charity and support of the clergy; her name would, by coincidence or otherwise, become associated with Patrick’s third daughter: she was Miss Frances Richardson-Currer, a likely source of the pen-name Currer Bell later adopted by Charlotte Brontë
Elizabeth had quickly discerned the financial situation that the Brontës were in after her arrival in Haworth in the summer of 1821, and realised that it would become much worse after her sister’s death. Approaching Patrick as tactfully as possible, she told him that one of the conditions of her staying at the parsonage was that she would pay rent out of the annuity she received, as if she wasn’t allowed to do so it would be an affront to her pride13. In this way she replaced Maria’s contribution with her own, although she still managed to keep some money in reserve to add to her established savings – money that would later be used to support her nieces in a variety of endeavours, even after her death.
An additional opportunity to be of financial assistance came in July 1824, when Maria and Elizabeth were sent to the Clergy Daughters’ School at Cowan Bridge in what is now Cumbria. Charlotte followed in August, and Emily arrived at the end of the year. We have a letter that Patrick addressed to his bank manager on 10 November 1824 in anticipation of Emily’s departure:
‘Dear Sir, I take this opportunity to give you notice that in the course of a fortnight it is my intention to draw about twenty pounds out of your savings bank. I am going to send another of my little girls to school, which at the first will cost me some little – but in the end I shall not lose14.’
We will see just how much he was about to lose at the school famously, and infamously, portrayed as Lowood in Jane Eyre, but he and Elizabeth would have felt no forebodings at the time. Maria and Elizabeth Brontë had already enjoyed a term at Crofton Hall school near Wakefield, an establishment with an excellent reputation and one that had been attended by Brontë godmothers, Elizabeth Firth and Fanny Outhwaite, who probably paid most of the fees on this occasion. Nevertheless, it was an expensive school to attend, and Patrick couldn’t expect the women to pay the Crofton Hall fees interminably, so he looked for a more affordable option.
Elizabeth’s opinion was sought on the sc
hool he found; it was newly-established but as it was designed purposely for daughters of the clergy, and run by a clergyman himself, Reverend Carus Wilson, Elizabeth had no reason to doubt that it would prove eminently suitable. Up to this point, she had been teaching the children herself, but she knew that a formal education would help her nieces secure jobs in the future, and it is likely that she also helped to pay the school fees. Standing outside the parsonage, waving at the carriage that drove Maria and Elizabeth away from her, she felt the swelling of pride and sorrow so familiar to parents today as they watch their child leave for their first day at school.
Patrick, who travelled with his children on this occasion, would greatly miss the company of his eldest daughter Maria, who was already showing prodigious gifts and with whom he could converse on any subject of the day as if she was an adult. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was more saddened at the departure of her niece of the same name, a girl she had formed a strong attraction to since being named as her godmother. The then eight-year-old Elizabeth’s academic achievements were assessed by the school upon her entry:
‘Reads little. Writes pretty well. Ciphers none. Works very badly. Knows nothing of grammar, history, geography or accomplishments15.’
We should not read too much into this report as most of the pupils, including Maria and Charlotte, had similarly critical appraisals, although the young Emily garnered an unusually glowing report. What is telling, however, is that the school records also show what profession the girls are to be schooled for. Maria, Charlotte and Emily are listed as future governesses, while Elizabeth is listed as being prepared for the role of a housekeeper.
Elizabeth may not have been as academically gifted as her sisters, but she was a kind and practical girl, and these qualities are sure to have won the affection of her aunt. She was also stoic in the face of pain, as remembered by the Superintendent of the school, Miss Evans:
‘The second, Elizabeth, is the only one of the [Brontë] family of whom I have a vivid recollection, from her meeting with a rather alarming accident, in consequence of which I had her for some days and nights in my bed-room, not only for the sake of her greater quiet, but that I might watch over her myself. Her head was severely cut, but she bore all the consequent suffering with exemplary patience, and by it won much upon my esteem16.’
It is clear that Elizabeth had suffered a terrible injury, but far worse was to come for her and her sister Maria. The story has often been told, not least in a disguised form in Jane Eyre, of how the atrocious conditions of Cowan Bridge, its poor food, strict discipline and unhealthy location, ‘transformed the seminary into a hospital17’. Epidemics of typhoid and tuberculosis broke out, and Maria was among the first to succumb; she was sent home to Haworth suffering from ‘ill health’ as the school recorded it, with Elizabeth also returned just a month later. They died of tuberculosis with their father and aunt watching over them on 6 May and 15 June 1825 respectively, at just 11 and 10 years old.
It was a devastating occurrence for Elizabeth Branwell, who had encouraged the children to be sent to the school, and helped to pay for it. She had left the warmth and light of Penzance for this, a windswept house where she had already witnessed three people die; the little girl she had held in her arms at Thornton’s church ten years earlier, making solemn vows before God to protect her, was now held lifeless in those same arms. Patrick, consumed by grief and anger, fetched Charlotte and Emily home forthwith; unable to bear the loss of another child they would now be taught at home, and Elizabeth Branwell, veteran of the penny school on Chapel Street, was given the central role.
Chapter 10
Curiosity and a Quick Intellect
‘He took her education entirely on himself, and made it an amusement. Fortunately, curiosity and a quick intellect made her an apt scholar: she learned rapidly and eagerly, and did honour to his teaching.’
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
As a child, Elizabeth Branwell had learned largely from her parents, although external tutors may also have been used. Years later she put those lessons to good use as she passed on all she knew to the Brontë children. They were, in general, able and eager students, although they also demonstrated a mischievous streak from time to time.
After the return of Charlotte and Emily from Cowan Bridge, the children’s education became the responsibility of Elizabeth and her brother-in-law. Patrick took upon himself primarily the teaching of Branwell, leaving his three girls to take instruction from their aunt. As is evident from their novels, the Brontë sisters were highly intelligent women with a wide breadth of knowledge, even though the lessons given by their Aunt Branwell were not always to their taste.
Elizabeth had no doubt how prodigious her nieces were, even from the youngest age, but she also knew that their cleverness and talent would be of little use to them in later life unless it was channelled correctly. For that reason, practical subjects were always at the heart of her schooling, and she drummed into Charlotte, Emily and Anne by repetition, the skills that would be most helpful in obtaining a post of governess or teacher. Among these skills were reading and arithmetic, study of the Bible, and a smattering of history and geography.
These lessons were carried out in the bedroom that Elizabeth shared with her youngest niece Anne, with the beds pushed back to create space for the classroom. Above all else, they were taught sewing1, spending hours working upon making clothing or repairing it. This was especially trying to Charlotte, who had inherited her father’s poor eyesight, and for whom the intricate skills of needlework were a severe physical test as well as a test of patience. The girls had little option but to submit to Elizabeth’s directions, tiresome though they found it, as their aunt knew this was a skill vital for both today and tomorrow.
The Brontë children could not afford to buy new clothing at regular intervals as many others of their social standing did, so they had to rely on hand-me-downs, in the case of the younger children Emily or Anne, or repair their clothes until they could be repaired no more. This had the inevitable effect of leaving their clothing behind the times, something that was also levelled at Elizabeth Branwell herself in a letter sent by Charlotte’s friend Mary Taylor to Elizabeth Gaskell after the publication of her biography of Charlotte Brontë:
‘When I saw Miss Branwell she was a very precise person, and looked very odd, because her dress was so utterly out of fashion. She corrected one of us once for using the word “spit” or “spitting.” She made a great favourite out of Branwell. She made her nieces sew, with purpose or without, and as far as possible discouraged any other culture. She used to keep the girls sewing charity clothing, and maintained to me that it was not for the good of the recipients but of the sewers2.’
Mary Taylor was herself a very precise and forthright person, but although she shared a school, Roe Head in Mirfield, with Charlotte, she came from a much wealthier family, and does Elizabeth a great disservice in her description above. Mary Taylor saw her on only a few brief visits, and could not have known Elizabeth’s own background, nor that she had loved fashion in her own younger days but was now putting aside her own desires in order to save money for her nephew and nieces. This was an act of charity akin to the charity work she made her charges do, but she was confident that these acts of kindness were themselves an essential lesson that would bring their own reward.
Charlotte herself later found how useful her needlework classes had been when she took on a short-lived job as governess to the White family of Rawdon:
‘Mrs White expects a good deal of sewing from me – I cannot sew “much” during the day on account of the children – who require the closest attention3.
Elizabeth also took it upon herself to instruct the children in cooking and how to keep a home, lessons that she knew her sister Maria would have provided. Under her instruction, and her supervision of the parsonage servants Nancy and Sarah Garrs and later Tabby Aykroyd, the parsonage was kept spotlessly clean, a thing often commented upon by visitors.
/> Nevertheless, children will be children, and the Brontës would on occasion talk back to their aunt, or complain that they would rather be out playing, as we see in Emily and Anne’s diary paper of 24 November 1834. Emily and Anne produced regular diary papers at three or four yearly intervals. This first extant diary paper was written jointly by the sisters who were so close to each other that they were described by Ellen Nussey as being like twins in all but appearance4, arms constantly entwined. By this time, they were 16 and 14 respectively, but still being instructed by their aunt and being watched over by her eagle eye:
‘Aunt has just come into the kitchen now and said where are your feet Anne, Anne answered on the floor Aunt … It is past Twelve o’clock, Anne and I have not tidied ourselves, done our bed work or done our lessons and we want to go out to play5.’
It seems that Elizabeth had walked into the kitchen and found Anne swinging her legs through the air, or perhaps leaning back dangerously in her chair, and even though she had developed a great affection for her youngest niece, she was not going to let this go without admonishment. Without doubt the girls would also have had to finish their lessons before going out to play, just as later in the diary paper Emily has to lay down her pen and help Tabby with the task of peeling potatoes.
Tabby Aykroyd arrived as a servant at Haworth Parsonage in 1824, after Nancy Garrs had left to be married, with her sister Sarah leaving shortly after. Tabby was then 53, five years older than Elizabeth, and remained at the parsonage until her death in 1855, except for a period of around three years that she spent with her sister Susannah while she recovered from a serious leg injury6.
Patrick stated that he decided to employ Tabby because he thought that one ‘elderly’ woman would be better for his children than two young ones7. This decision was reached after consultation with Elizabeth, who now shared with him in all major household decisions. Called in to the parsonage for an informal interview, Elizabeth was impressed by the straight-talking Yorkshire woman’s common sense approach as well as by the practical skills she possessed. It also meant that Elizabeth would no longer be the oldest person in the parsonage, which, although she was never a vain woman, was no doubt a relief.
Aunt Branwell and the Brontë Legacy Page 10