Brontës
Page 42
In the event, wiser counsels prevailed. The Reverend Henry Heap sensibly absented himself for the first time since he had taken up his post as vicar of Bradford, pleading ill health. Patrick successfully persuaded the constables to adjourn the meeting to the Sunday school after the service and took the chair himself. The meeting, which had to appoint all the new parish officials, lasted four hours but did not degenerate into an unseemly row. Patrick’s ‘able, patient, and impartial conduct’ as chairman was unanimously appreciated in a vote of thanks, prompting the Leeds Intelligencer to add its own eulogy.
though he is far advanced in years, and has suffered much from ill health, [he] displayed his pristine energies and faithfulness. That his life and services in his place may be long continued, is the fervent prayer of every churchman, to which every dissenter, who has the cause of religion at heart, will not fail to add his hearty Amen.41
The Baptists in Haworth did not share this view. Both Winterbotham and Moses Saunders were prominent in organizing a petition from the whole of the parish of Bradford to Government ministers, demanding the abolition of church rates. So strong was the depth of feeling it raised that it eventually secured 19,700 signatures.42 On the morning of a great meeting in Bradford in connection with this petition, there was an incident which the Bradford Observer gleefully reported as ‘a specimen of Church conservatism’. The Haworth band and a number of ‘“bonny Haworth” lads’ were walking to the meeting when they were overtaken by ‘a Haworth blue on horseback’ who deliberately rode into their midst. Several men were knocked down and injured, one so seriously he had to be left behind on the roadside. ‘This outrage’, the Bradford Observer darkly opined, ‘was planned by a little party of fierce & malignant Tories, with a sion [sic] of the Church at their head, who chuckled vastly at the success of their plot’.43 Whether or not Branwell was the actual perpetrator of the incident, the Baptists had no difficulty in seeing his hand in the matter.
Patrick relied on more peaceable means, continuing his campaign against the Poor Law Amendment Act through the newspapers. On 17 April, he wrote a powerful and emotive letter to the Leeds Intelligencer, calling on all men to do their duty and seek its repeal. ‘Petition, remonstrate, and resist powerfully but legally’, he urged. ‘We have religion, reason, justice and humanity, on our side, and by these we are determined to stand or fall.’44 Not for the first time in his career, his appeal fell on deaf ears and the provisions of the Act were to remain in force throughout his lifetime and beyond.
Perhaps because he had incurred such virulent opposition and personal invective during this period, William Hodgson decided that the time had come for him to leave Haworth. Patrick was dismayed at the prospect of losing his curate and rallied to his defence, drawing up a requisition which was a testament to the standing Hodgson had already achieved among the Anglican congregation.
We the undersigned inhabitants of Haworth … being fully satisfied with your faithful and diligent services, both in the desk, pulpit, Sunday School, and parish, earnestly desire (if you can see it to be the path of duty pointed out by Providence) that you would continue in your present situation for another year, at least, or as long as you conveniently can. And at the same time we wish to state it is our hope and belief that, notwithstanding trade is depressed, your subscription will be conducted in a spirit, similar to that which gave rise to it, last year.
To this Patrick added a note stating that the 236 signatures to the requisition, which included his own and Branwell’s, had been collected in a few hours only and that he was convinced that all the church people of the chapelry would sign it, if given the opportunity. Unfortunately for Patrick, Hodgson had been offered the post of vicar of Christ Church at Colne so there was no real prospect of him remaining in Haworth. He signed the registers as curate for the last time on 11 May 183745 and then crossed over the moors into Lancashire to take up his first and last incumbency. In the short time he had been at Haworth, this colourful and lively young man had been Patrick’s right-hand man; he would be sorely missed, particularly as it was to take nearly two years before a replacement could be found. Patrick had once more to shoulder the whole burden of parish duties at a time when he was busier than ever campaigning on a wider stage.
The turmoil in Haworth culminated in the election campaign which took place in the summer. King William IV died on 20 June 1837 and, in consequence, Parliament was dissolved and a general election called. Haworth, despite its comparatively small size, was dignified by visits from at least two of the main candidates. On 17 July, the Tory James Stuart Wortley spoke at the hustings there and, surprisingly, ‘had a patient and quiet hearing’, though when questioned by a Radical on his opinion of the Poor Law Amendment Act his views did not come up to those professed by his committee and friends, who included the Brontës, father and son.46 Three days later, the Whig candidate, Lord Morpeth, arrived, obliging Patrick to put off an invitation to tea with the Taylors at Stanbury.
As Lord Morpeth is coming to Haworth, tomorrow evening at four O’Clock and Miss Branwell and my Children, wish to see and hear him – and it is likely that there will be a good deal of drunkness, and confusion on the roads, I must request that you will excuse us, for not accepting your kind invitation –47
Patrick was being modest when he said that his family only wished to hear Lord Morpeth, for he took a prominent role in the proceedings himself. The son of the Haworth tailor has left us a vivid account of that day.
Elections at Haworth in those days were very violent affairs … The Tories, or ‘Blues’, were very few in number, and dared hardly show their faces. On this occasion the platforms for the two parties were erected nearly opposite each other, the Liberals being located against a laithe which stood on the now open space in front of the Black Bull Inn. The vicar and his son Branwell were on the ‘Blue’ platform … The Liberals were there in great numbers. Robert Pickles, a noted politician, having brought a considerable body from the outskirts. When Mr Brontë began to question Lord Morpeth a regular ‘hullabulloo’ was set up. Branwell, in his impetuous way, rushed to the front crying, ‘If you won’t let my father speak, you shan’t speak’.48
Another contemporary said that Branwell first became publicly known at this election, not only for this intervention but also because, as Secretary for the Conservative Committee of the District, he displayed his great abilities, ‘notably his powers of conversation & the facility with which he wrote with either hand or with both at one time’. Certainly Branwell made himself conspicuous, so much so that he became the object of revenge.
After that election Branwell’s effigy, bearing a herring in one hand and a potato in the other, in allusion to his nationality, was carried through the main street of Haworth and afterwards burned. Branwell witnessed the procession from a shop in the village.49
The Brontës’ efforts were unavailing; Lord Morpeth was returned for the West Riding and Lord Melbourne and his Whig ministry took up office once more.
Apart from the single instance of attending the election hustings, the tumultuous events in Haworth seem to have passed the Brontë sisters by. There is no reference to them in any of Charlotte’s letters and, unlike the election of 1835, they were not reflected in Angria or Gondal. Indeed, Charlotte seems to have deliberately clung to quite a different view of Haworth. One dull Saturday afternoon at Roe Head, she amused herself by conjuring up a vision of home.
Remembrance yields up many a fragment of past twilight hours – spent in that little unfurnished room – There have I sat on the low bed-stead my eyes fixed on the window, through which appeared no other landscape than a monotonous stretch of moorland, a grey church tower, rising from the centre of a church-yard so filled with graves, that the rank-weed & coarse grass scarce had room to shoot up between the monuments. Over these hangs in the eye of memory a sky of such grey clouds as often veil the chill close of an October day & low on the horizon
Emily’s view of Haworth was equally remote from what was actually going on. Despite the fact that she was at home and therefore in the thick of things, she seems to have been oblivious to all but the narrow confines of life in the parsonage and the wider expanse of her own imagination. The diary paper she wrote with Anne on 26 June, Branwell’s twentieth birthday, is startling evidence of the lack of impact the outside world had upon her.
Monday evening June 26 1837
A bit past 4 o’Clock Charolotte working in Aunts room Branwell reading Eugene Aram to her Anne and I writing in the drawing room – Anne a poem beginning ‘fair was the evening and brightly the sun – I Agustus Almedas life 1st vol – 4th page from the last a fine rather coolish thin grey cloudy but Sunny day Aunt working in the little Room papa gone out. Tabby in the Kitchin – the Emperors and Empresses of Gondal and Gaaldine preparing to depart from Gaaldine to Gondal to prepare for the coranation which will be on the 12th of July Queen Victoria ascended the throne this month. Northangerland in Monceys Isle – Zamorna at Eversham. all tight and right in which condition it is to be hoped we shall all be on this day 4 years at which time Charollote will be 25 and 2 months – Branwell just 24 it being his birthday – myself 22 and 10 months and a peice Anne 21 and nearly a half I wonder where we shall be and how we shall be and what kind of a day it will be then let us hope for the best
Emily Jane Brontë – Anne Brontë51
Under the diary note, Emily drew a rough, labelled sketch of herself and Anne sitting at the table with ‘The Papers’ and ‘The Tin Box’ in which they were stored strewn across its surface. In this, as in her other diary papers, Emily deliberately drew only a back view of herself as if the sketch was done by someone standing a few paces behind her. Her own face is concealed; that of Anne is a blank. Below the sketch, Emily reported the conversation that evidently followed its completion.
Aunt. come Emily its past 4 o’clock
Emily Yes Aunt
Anne Well/ do you intend to write in the evening
Emily well what think you (we agreed to go out 1st to make sure if we get into a humor we may Stay [out? in?] )
After further discussion a final postscript was squeezed up the right-hand margin of the drawing:
I guess that this day 4 years we shall all be in this drawing room comfortable I hope it may be so
Anne guesses we shall all be gone somewhere together comfortable we hope it may be either52
The sole external event which percolated through into the diary paper was the accession of the eighteen-year-old Queen Victoria. Even then, one suspects that the interest was solely because the romantic accession of a young girl, the same age as Emily herself, was the very stuff of Gondal – and may indeed have inspired the forthcoming coronation in the imaginary kingdom.
The diary paper reveals that Emily and Anne were perfectly au fait with what was happening in Angria; they must have read Branwell’s work as soon as he produced it, as the events they mention were entirely topical. Without the prose stories of Gondal, which have been lost or destroyed, it is next to impossible to re-create that world.53 However, it is clear from the poems which survive that Gondal owed much to Angria both in the general sweep of events and scenes and in the detail of character and plot.
We have some clues to its layout. In her copy of A Grammar of General Geography by the Reverend J. Goldsmith, Emily carefully inserted in minuscule script the names and brief details of some of the imaginary places in a gazetteer of real ones. We learn that Gondal was a large island in the north Pacific and that Regina was its capital. Just as Branwell and Charlotte had moved on from the Verdopolitan Union to conquer and found the new kingdom of Angria, Emily and Anne had expanded into new territory. Gaaldine was ‘a large Island newly discovered in the south pacific’ which was divided up into a large province, Zedora, governed by a Viceroy, and a number of kingdoms, Alexandra, Almedore, Elseraden, Zelona and Ula.54 The last of these, in a manner reminiscent of the early days of the four Genii, was ruled by four sovereigns.
Echoes of Angria occur constantly. There is the same sharp contrast between the harsh climate and scenery in the north, with its moorlands and snow-capped mountains, and the soft, wooded landscape of the south. Names, and possibly characters too, are borrowed: a young pair of lovers, for instance, are called Alexander and Zenobia after Alexander Percy and his third wife.55 The lives and destinies of these characters, who are all of aristocratic or royal birth, are closely bound up in the fate of their kingdoms. Like the Angrians, they endure wars, civil wars and revolutions: Gondal in 1837 saw the siege and capture of Tyndarum and victory for the kingdom of Almedore, which, like Angria, displayed the crimson ensign.56 Even in death, whether pining for a long-lost lover or fatally wounded in battle, they are, like Mary Percy, children of the earth, torn reluctantly from the beauties of nature.
And there he lay among the bloom
His red blood dyed a deeper hue
Shuddering to feel the ghastly gloom
That coming Death around him threw –
Sickening to think one hour would sever
The sweet, sweet world and him for ever
To think that twilight gathering dim
Would never pass away to him –57
The format of the stories, we can assume, was much the same as for Angria. Emily tells us in her diary paper that she was working on the first volume of a life of Augusta Almeda, a fact that was reflected in the number of poems she produced about Augusta at this time.58 This is consistent with Branwell’s recent preoccupation with writing a life of Alexander Percy in several volumes, which also spawned many poems. Like Branwell, Emily had the freedom to pursue her imaginings and capture them on paper and, if the number of poems written in 1837 is anything to go by, she, like him, was the dominant member of the partnership. Anne, like Charlotte, was away from home too much to contribute anything more than the occasional poem.
Though Gondal clearly owed much to Angria, there were subtle differences in style and character which seem to have arisen, in part at least, because this was a world created and directed by women. Warfare and politics were the backdrop for all the stories, but this was not a man’s world in which women were simply the beautiful playthings of leisure time. Gondal women play a far greater and more active role than their counterparts in Angria and from Queen Augusta Almeda downwards they are strong-minded, ambitious and resourceful. The passive beauties, literally dying for a kind look from Zamorna, are unknown in Gondal.
Nor was the Gondal landscape simply a re-creation of the moorlands of Haworth. Though frequently bleak and undoubtedly hill country, Haworth does not have the snow-capped mountains or ruined castles which are features of Gondal.59 These are borrowed from the novels and ballads of Sir Walter Scott. The wilderness of the northern mountains reflects the Scottish Highlands and the lusher wooded hills of the south conjure up the richer beauty of the Borders. Scott’s influence on the Brontës was extremely marked, so much so that Branwell paused at the beginning of a new chapter he was writing in December 1837, to comment on it:
Among all the descriptions I have read I do not recollect one to me more beautiful than that in the commencement of the Tales of My Landlord which describes the Burial-place of the Covenanters at the Valley Head among the lonely Lowland Hills, and I like it so much because there is not about it that selection of the sublime or beautiful in Nature wherewith to seize the mind independantly of power in the writer or of sentiment in his subject for exepting in the Grave stones themselves half buried it is only the picture of one among many ‘lone vales of green Bracken’ with a rude ill cultivated Country below and a brown fern Hidden brook within and dull stony swells around and a Marshy monotonous Moor beyond But I born and bred upon the Hill sides want no more of the great or striking to make me adore that discription for I feel enough of the Associations called up at sight of those
ernness of man fitly accorded with the Moors and Mosses of their Mountain Land.60
These sentiments were certainly shared by Emily and Anne, though probably not by Charlotte, who had always had a hankering for the exotic. Branwell was obviously getting at his older sister when he continued:
I would doubt the genius of that writer who loved more to dwell upon Indian Palm Groves or Genii palaces than on the Wooded Manors and cloudy skies of England So when I see upon that page the reflection of objects which I have always been surrounded with I must the more delight in the description itself and in the Noble Head that framed it for it shews me both its own Sacred Grave yard and what I have only to lift my eyes from the pages to look on61
Walter Scott had always been one of Emily’s passions: as long ago as December 1827, when she was a child of nine, she had chosen him for her chief man and Arran for her island for the play of‘Tales of the Islanders’. Now she and Anne borrowed the Scottish scenery of his novels for Gondal, and adapted his romantic stories and his characters. There is a strong preponderance of Scottish names among the heroes and heroines of Gondal and Gaaldine. In addition to references in the poems and diary papers, there are at least three extant lists of Gondal characters, scrawled haphazardly on fragments of paper and on the backs of poems. Among the names are Ronald Stew[a]rt and his wife Flora, Una Campbell, Lucia MacElgin, Halbert Clifford, Archibald Muray and Helen Douglas.62
Another significant Scottish influence, particularly on Emily, was David Moir, whose poetry was published extensively in Blackwood’s Magazine under the pseudonym ‘Delta’. In terms of subject, style and treatment, his work struck a responsive chord in Emily. Like her, he was frequently moved to rapture by the beauties of nature and included descriptive passages in almost all his poems. Like her, he had a predilection for graveside laments and elegiac stanzas: in his spare and deceptively simple style, with his fondness for words such as ‘drear’ and ‘stirless’, one can see a model for much of Emily’s own poetry. Indeed, complete lines, even whole poems, are occasionally echoed in her verse and his ballad tales of Scottish history and the deeds of Douglas set the scene for many Gondal lyrics and stories.63