I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.
Emily Bronte
Wuthering Heights

zaterdag 4 april 2015

Haworth History Tour

Amberley Publishing has just published a new book about Haworth:
Haworth History Tour
Steven Wood, Ian Palmer
Amberley Publishing
ISBN: 9781445646275
168 x 124 mm | Paperback | 96 pages | 120 illustrations | February 2015

Haworth is a picturesque Pennine village that is now famed for the Brontë family and the steam railway. Behind the tourist village of today lies a long history of people making a living from the uncompromising moorland of this area. Haworth History Tour takes the reader on a journey through the many changes the village has undergone in its long history. While some areas will seem relatively unchanged, many are now unrecognisable. The curious and nostalgic alike will delight in uncovering or rediscovering the roots of Haworth with the help of this wonderfully illustrated guide.

BBC News celebrates the London Letters Live season with a Charlotte Brontë letter:
In celebration of London's Letters Live season, BBC Newsnight invited actress Louise Brealey to read a letter written by Charlotte Brontë following the loss of her sister Emily.
It was composed on Christmas day 1848, six days after the Wuthering Heights author's death, in response to a letter from publisher W S Williams.

vrijdag 3 april 2015

Charlotte Bronte in Brussels

In Villette then, Miss Bronte pictures Lucy Snowe's arrival  in Brussels much as it occurred to herself on her second visit. Now let us follow her, step by step " for the first time " to her predestined home. " Having left behind us the miry Chaussee "hat is to say, the Chaussec de Gand " the diligence rattled over the pavement, passed through the Porte de Flandre, and stopped at the bureau. Hence Dr. John Bretton courteously conducted Miss Snowe along the boulevards, on foot, through darkness, fog, and rain, past the Alice Verte " at that time "

almost a civic pleasaunce, referred to in The Professor^ but now an arid waste of sand and stone, a mere eastern quay to the Canal de Willebroeck " until by the Rue Ducale or the Rue de la Loi the north-east gate of the Park was reached, and the park " crossed " to an opening into the Rue Royale opposite the Montagne du Pare, which descends to the Lower Town. Here her guide left her, after having instructed her how to reach a decent inn by descending the Belliard steps.It has been supposed that this would in reality have been too long a walk; but in the author's eyes it must have been a mere ramble, for in The Professor the newly affianced Crims worth and Frances Henri celebrate their engagement by making *' a tour of the city by the Boulevards " " a jaunt of twice the distance which tired the lady but *'a little." Lucy's progress from this point to the Pensionnat has created some difficulty in readers' minds, yet it is clear enough. Misunderstanding her instructions, she missed the Belliard steps ' to the Rue d'Isabelle, wherein, at its junction with the Rue des Douze Apotres and the Rue de la Chancellerie was supposed to stand the inn of ' The opening in the Rue Royale would not reveal to the passer-by, particularly at night-time, the existence of the Belliard steps, because the head of the stairway is masked by the pedestal of the General's statue. forgottenbooks











 

Rue Ducale 13 – the house where Zoë Parent died



Late in the evening of 9 January 1890, Claire Zoë Parent (b.1804) passed away at Rue Ducale 13, suffering from double pneumonia. In the Brussels Brontë story, she holds a prominent role of course, as directrice of the Rue d'Isabelle pensionnat which Charlotte and Emily attended in 1842–43, and as part model for the characters of Madame Beck (Villette) and Zoraïde Reuter (The Professor) in Charlotte's novels.

In May 1889, Zoë and her husband, Constantin Heger, accompanied by their daughter Louise, left Rue d’Isabelle for Rue Ducale 13. Their new home was a three-storied, neoclassical maison particulière, modest in size compared to other, more palatial houses on the street, but no less elegant. They had not bought their new house, they were only renting it out. Doubtless it was an expensive place to rent, but at this stage the Hegers were a relatively prosperous middle-class family, and were well able to permit themselves some luxury. After Zoë's death, Heger and his daughter remained at Rue Ducale until June 1892, before moving to Rue Montoyer 72 in the nearby Quartier Leopold.
For anyone looking for Rue Ducale 13 today, there is a surprise in store. As one goes along Rue Ducale from the Royal Palace towards Rue Zinner, the house numbers pass from 11 to 15, with no number 13 in between. Yet, with the help of some Brussels City Archives documents, this missing number can be explained. During the period 1892–1912, houses 9, 11, and 13, owned by the Comte t'Kint de Roodenbeke, underwent a series of transformations. As a result, house number 13 was incorporated into number 11. The number 13 was formally cancelled by Brussels City authorities with effect from 28 January 1913. Read more: brusselsbronte


 

The Parlour

The Parlour

Parsonage

Parsonage

Charlotte Bronte

Presently the door opened, and in came a superannuated mastiff, followed by an old gentleman very like Miss Bronte, who shook hands with us, and then went to call his daughter. A long interval, during which we coaxed the old dog, and looked at a picture of Miss Bronte, by Richmond, the solitary ornament of the room, looking strangely out of place on the bare walls, and at the books on the little shelves, most of them evidently the gift of the authors since Miss Bronte's celebrity. Presently she came in, and welcomed us very kindly, and took me upstairs to take off my bonnet, and herself brought me water and towels. The uncarpeted stone stairs and floors, the old drawers propped on wood, were all scrupulously clean and neat. When we went into the parlour again, we began talking very comfortably, when the door opened and Mr. Bronte looked in; seeing his daughter there, I suppose he thought it was all right, and he retreated to his study on the opposite side of the passage; presently emerging again to bring W---- a country newspaper. This was his last appearance till we went. Miss Bronte spoke with the greatest warmth of Miss Martineau, and of the good she had gained from her. Well! we talked about various things; the character of the people, - about her solitude, etc., till she left the room to help about dinner, I suppose, for she did not return for an age. The old dog had vanished; a fat curly-haired dog honoured us with his company for some time, but finally manifested a wish to get out, so we were left alone. At last she returned, followed by the maid and dinner, which made us all more comfortable; and we had some very pleasant conversation, in the midst of which time passed quicker than we supposed, for at last W---- found that it was half-past three, and we had fourteen or fifteen miles before us. So we hurried off, having obtained from her a promise to pay us a visit in the spring... ------------------- "She cannot see well, and does little beside knitting. The way she weakened her eyesight was this: When she was sixteen or seventeen, she wanted much to draw; and she copied nimini-pimini copper-plate engravings out of annuals, ('stippling,' don't the artists call it?) every little point put in, till at the end of six months she had produced an exquisitely faithful copy of the engraving. She wanted to learn to express her ideas by drawing. After she had tried to draw stories, and not succeeded, she took the better mode of writing; but in so small a hand, that it is almost impossible to decipher what she wrote at this time.

I asked her whether she had ever taken opium, as the description given of its effects in Villette was so exactly like what I had experienced, - vivid and exaggerated presence of objects, of which the outlines were indistinct, or lost in golden mist, etc. She replied, that she had never, to her knowledge, taken a grain of it in any shape, but that she had followed the process she always adopted when she had to describe anything which had not fallen within her own experience; she had thought intently on it for many and many a night before falling to sleep, - wondering what it was like, or how it would be, - till at length, sometimes after the progress of her story had been arrested at this one point for weeks, she wakened up in the morning with all clear before her, as if she had in reality gone through the experience, and then could describe it, word for word, as it had happened. I cannot account for this psychologically; I only am sure that it was so, because she said it. ----------------------She thought much of her duty, and had loftier and clearer notions of it than most people, and held fast to them with more success. It was done, it seems to me, with much more difficulty than people have of stronger nerves, and better fortunes. All her life was but labour and pain; and she never threw down the burden for the sake of present pleasure. I don't know what use you can make of all I have said. I have written it with the strong desire to obtain appreciation for her. Yet, what does it matter? She herself appealed to the world's judgement for her use of some of the faculties she had, - not the best, - but still the only ones she could turn to strangers' benefit. They heartily, greedily enjoyed the fruits of her labours, and then found out she was much to be blamed for possessing such faculties. Why ask for a judgement on her from such a world?" elizabeth gaskell/charlotte bronte



Poem: No coward soul is mine

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the worlds storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heavens glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.


O God within my breast.
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life -- that in me has rest,
As I -- Undying Life -- have power in Thee!


Vain are the thousand creeds
That move mens hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,


To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by Thine infinity;
So surely anchored on
The steadfast Rock of immortality.


With wide-embracing love
Thy Spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.


Though earth and man were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou wert left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.


There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou -- Thou art Being and Breath,
And what Thou art may never be destroyed.


--
Emily Bronte

Family tree

The Bronte Family

Grandparents - paternal
Hugh Brunty was born 1755 and died circa 1808. He married Eleanor McClory, known as Alice in 1776.

Grandparents - maternal
Thomas Branwell (born 1746 died 5th April 1808) was married in 1768 to Anne Carne (baptised 27th April 1744 and died 19th December 1809).

Parents
Father was Patrick Bronte, the eldest of 10 children born to Hugh Brunty and Eleanor (Alice) McClory. He was born 17th March 1777 and died on 7th June 1861. Mother was Maria Branwell, who was born on 15th April 1783 and died on 15th September 1821.

Maria had a sister, Elizabeth who was known as Aunt Branwell. She was born in 1776 and died on 29th October 1842.

Patrick Bronte married Maria Branwell on 29th December 1812.

The Bronte Children
Patrick and Maria Bronte had six children.
The first child was Maria, who was born in 1814 and died on 6th June 1825.
The second daughter, Elizabeth was born on 8th February 1815 and died shortly after Maria on 15th June 1825. Charlotte was the third daughter, born on 21st April 1816.

Charlotte married Arthur Bell Nicholls (born 1818) on 29th June 1854. Charlotte died on 31st March 1855. Arthur lived until 2nd December 1906.

The first and only son born to Patrick and Maria was Patrick Branwell, who was born on 26th June 1817 and died on 24th September 1848.

Emily Jane, the fourth daughter was born on 30th July 1818 and died on 19th December 1848.

The sixth and last child was Anne, born on 17th January 1820 who died on 28th May 1849.

Top Withens in the snow.

Top Withens in the snow.

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