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 13 april 2013

You may laugh as much and as wickedly as you please

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
September 14th, 1850.
‘I wish, dear Ellen, you would tell me what is the “twaddle about my marrying, etc.,” which you hear.  If I knew the details I should have a better chance of guessing the quarter from which such gossip comes—as it is, I am quite at a loss.  Whom am I to marry?  I think I have scarcely seen a single man with whom such a union would be possible since I left London.  Doubtless there are men whom, if I chose to encourage, I might marry; but no matrimonial lot is even remotely offered me which seems to me truly desirable.  And even if that were the case, there would be many obstacles.  The least allusion to such a thing is most offensive to papa.
 
‘An article entitled Currer Bell has lately appeared in the Palladium, a new periodical published in Edinburgh.  It is an eloquent production, and one of such warm sympathy and high appreciation as I had never expected to see.  It makes mistakes about authorships, etc., but these I hope one day to set right. Mr. Taylor (the little man) first informed me of this article. I was somewhat surprised to receive his letter, having concluded nine months ago that there would be no more correspondence from that quarter. I inclose you a note from him received subsequently, in answer to my acknowledgment.  Read it and tell me exactly how it impresses you regarding the writer’s character, etc. His little newspaper disappeared for some weeks, and I thought it was gone to the tomb of the Capulets; however, it has reappeared, with an explanation that he had feared its regular transmission might rather annoy than gratify. I told him this was a mistake—that I was well enough pleased to receive it, but hoped he would not make a task of sending it.  For the rest, I cannot consider myself placed under any personal obligation by accepting this newspaper, for it belongs to the establishment of Smith  Elder.  This little Taylor is deficient neither in spirit nor sense.
 
‘The report about my having published again is, of course, an arrant lie.
 
‘Give my kind regards to all, and—Believe me, yours faithfully,
‘C. B.
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
January 30th, 1851.
‘You are to say no more about “Jupiter” and “Venus”—what do you mean by such heathen trash?  The fact is, no fallacy can be wilder, and I won’t have it hinted at even in jest, because my common sense laughs it to scorn.  The idea of the “little man” shocks me less—it would be a more likely match if “matches” were at all in question, which they are not.  He still sends his little newspaper; and the other day there came a letter of a bulk, volume, pith, judgment, and knowledge, worthy to have been the product of a giant.  You may laugh as much and as wickedly as you please; but the fact is, there is a quiet constancy about this, my diminutive and red-haired friend, which adds a foot to his stature, turns his sandy locks dark, and altogether dignifies him a good deal in my estimation.  However, I am not bothered by much vehement ardour—there is the nicest distance and respect preserved now, which makes matters very comfortable.

‘This is all nonsense, Nell, and so you will understand it.—Yours very faithfully,
‘C. B.
Palladium; a monthly journal of literature, politics, science and art. Edinburgh. July 1850-Mar.1851. Reel 243
Published in Edinburgh, The Palladium contained reviews of current literature, serial novels, and articles concerning literature, politics science and art. Scottish subjects were of special interest, and like most regional magazines, the Palladium did not last long. It was published for only nine months.
 

vrijdag 12 april 2013

Marriage proposal Nr III for Charlotte Bronte

 
The offices of Smith, Elder & Co. at No. 15 Waterloo Place in London
 
Many years were to elapse before Charlotte Brontë received her third offer of marriage.  These were the years of Brussels life, and the year during which she lost her sisters.  It came in the period of her early literary fame, and indeed was the outcome of it.  Mr. James Taylor was in the employment of Smith & Elder.  He was associated with the literary department, and next in command to Mr. W. S. Williams as adviser to the firm.  Mr. Williams appears to have written to Miss Brontë suggesting that Mr. Taylor should come to Haworth in person for the manuscript of her new novel, Shirley, and here is Charlotte’s reply.
 
August 24th, 1849.
TO W. S. WILLIAMS
 
My dear Sir,—I think the best title for the book would be Shirley, without any explanation or addition—the simpler and briefer, the better.
‘If Mr. Taylor calls here on his return to town he might take charge of the Ms.; I would rather intrust it to him than send it by the ordinary conveyance.  Did I see Mr. Taylor when I was in London?  I cannot remember him.
‘I would with pleasure offer him the homely hospitalities of the Parsonage for a few days, if I could at the same time offer him the company of a brother, or if my father were young enough and strong enough to walk with him on the moors and show him the neighbourhood, or if the peculiar retirement of papa’s habits were not such as to render it irksome to him to give much of his society to a stranger, even in the house.  Without being in the least misanthropical or sour-natured, papa habitually prefers solitude to society, and custom is a tyrant whose fetters it would now be impossible for him to break.  Were it not for difficulties of this sort, I believe I should ere this have asked you to come down to Yorkshire.  Papa, I know, would receive any friend of Mr. Smith’s with perfect kindness and goodwill, but I likewise know that, unless greatly put out of his way, he could not give a guest much of his company, and that, consequently, his entertainment would be but dull.
‘You will see the force of these considerations, and understand why I only ask Mr. Taylor to come for a day instead of requesting the pleasure of his company for a longer period; you will believe me also, and so will he, when I say I shall be most happy to see him.  He will find Haworth a strange uncivilised little place, such as, I daresay, he never saw before



It is twenty miles distant from Leeds; he will have to come by rail to Keighley (there are trains every two hours I believe).  He must remember that at a station called Shipley the carriages are changed, otherwise they will take him on to Skipton or Colne, or I know not where. 


When he reaches Keighley, he will yet have four miles to travel; a conveyance may be hired at the Devonshire Arms—there is no coach or other regular communication.


‘I should like to hear from him before he comes, and to know on what day to expect him, that I may have the MS. ready; if it is not quite finished I might send the concluding chapter or two by post.
‘I advise you to send this letter to Mr. Taylor—it will save you the trouble of much explanation, and will serve to apprise him of what lies before him; he can then weigh well with himself whether it would suit him to take so much trouble for so slight an end.—Believe me, my dear sir, yours sincerely,
C. Brontë.’
 

donderdag 11 april 2013

Charlotte Brontë's Rate per Word, around £1,000

Alison Flood in The Guardian adds:
A minuscule handwritten poem by Charlotte Brontë, composed when the author was just 13, has been sold for almost £100,000.
Signed C Brontë, and dated by her on 14 December 1829, "I've been wandering in the greenwoods" is written on a piece of paper measuring just three inches square, and is difficult to read without a magnifying glass. Charlotte and her siblings all wrote in a tiny hand, to make the most of a scarce and expensive paper supply, but they were also short-sighted, so would have been able to see what they were writing themselves, even it was illegible to others.
The manuscript was sold by Bonhams as part of the collection of the poet and scholar Roy Davids: it had been given an estimated sale price of £40,000-£45,000, but went for more than double that, selling for £92,450. The Brontë poem, said the auction house, is "extremely rare", because although the author would go on to write around 200 poems, the "vast majority" are in institutions, with "perhaps no more than four" in private hands.
"I've been wandering in the greenwoods" is a celebration of nature, with the precocious young poet elaborating on how she has "been to the distant mountain,/ To the silver singing rill/ By the crystal murmering mountain,/ And the shady verdant hill." It appeared in a printed version in the literary magazine The Young Man's Intelligencer, which was produced by the Brontë children for their own enjoyment. Charlotte took over as editor from her brother Branwell in 1829.Charlotte Brontë's Rate per Word, around £1,000

Wedding proposal Charlotte Bronte nr II. I have heard of love at first sight, but this beats all.

 
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
August 4th, 1839.
My dearest Ellen,—I have an odd circumstance to relate to you—prepare for a hearty laugh!  The other day Mr. Hodgson, papa’s former curate, now a vicar, came over to spend the day with us, bringing with him his own curate.  The latter gentleman, by name Mr. Price, is a young Irish clergyman, fresh from Dublin University.  It was the first time we had any of us seen him, but, however, after the manner of his countrymen, he soon made himself at home.  His character quickly appeared in his conversation: witty, lively, ardent, clever too, but deficient in the dignity and discretion of an Englishman.  At home, you know, Ellen, I talk with ease, and am never shy, never weighed down and oppressed by that miserable mauvaise honte which torments and constrains me elsewhere.  So I conversed with this Irishman and laughed at his jests, and though I saw faults in his character, excused them because of the amusement his originality afforded.  I cooled a little, indeed, and drew in towards the latter part of the evening, because he began to season his conversation with something of Hibernian flattery, which I did not quite relish.  However, they went away, and no more was thought about them.  A few days after I got a letter,  of which puzzled me, it being in a hand I was not accustomed to see.  Evidently, it was neither from you nor Mary Taylor, my only correspondents.  Having opened and read it, it proved to be a declaration of attachment and proposal of matrimony, expressed in the ardent language of the sapient young Irishman!  Well! thought I, I have heard of love at first sight, but this beats all.  I leave you to guess what my answer would be, convinced that you will not do me the injustice of guessing wrong.  When we meet I’ll show you the letter.  I hope you are laughing heartily.  This is not like one of my adventures, is it?  It more nearly resembles Martha Taylor’s.  I am certainly doomed to be an old maid.  Never mind, I made up my mind to that fate ever since I was twelve years old.  Write soon.

C. Brontë
 
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
January 24th, 1840.
My dear Ellen,—Mr. Price is dead.  He had fallen into a state of delicate health for some time, and the rupture of a blood-vessel carried him off.  He was a strong, athletic-looking man when I saw him, and that is scarcely six months ago.  Though I knew so little of him, and of course could not be deeply or permanently interested in what concerned him, I confess, when I suddenly heard he was dead, I felt both shocked and saddened: it was no shame to feel so, was it?  I scold you, Ellen, for writing illegibly and badly, but I think you may repay the compliment with cent per cent interest.  I am not in the humour for writing a long letter, so good-bye.  God bless you.
‘C. B.’
 

woensdag 10 april 2013

AUTOGRAPH MANUSCRIPT POEM from Charlotte bronte


Today's the day when Charlotte Brontë's manuscript poem is going under the hammer at Bonhams. La Stampa (Italy) features the poem.

AUTOGRAPH MANUSCRIPT POEM WRITTEN IN HER MINUSCULE HAND SIGNED 'C. BRONTE', dated by her 14 December 1829 and with the autograph note 'from the Young Mans Intelligencer', on a small slip of paper (c. 3 x 3 inches, formerly part of the address leaf of a letter - on the verso survive 'Miss Br' and 'Rev' with a hand-inscribed postal rate), [Haworth Rectory], 14 December 1829
 
 
 
I've been wandering in the greenwoods
And mid flowery smiling plains
I've been listening to the dark floods
To the thrushes thrilling strains

I have gathered the pale primrose
And the purple violet sweet
I've been where the Asphodel grows
And where lives the red deer fleet.

I've been to the distant mountain,
To the silver singing rill
By the crystal murmering mountain,
And the shady verdant hill.

I've been where the poplar is springing
From the fair Inamelled ground
Where the nightingale is singing
With a solemn plaintive sound.
 
Juliet Barker explains that it was probably the expense and shortage of supply of paper that led to the tiny writing adopted by the Brontë children -- 'they developed a minuscule hand, designed to look like bookprint, which allowed them to write many more words to the page. The writing cannot be read without a magnifying glass but as all the young Brontës were shortsighted, this would not have been so much of a problem to them. The tiny hand also had the advantage of being illegible to their father and aunt, so the children enjoyed the delicious thrill knowing that the contents of their little books were a secret shared only among themselves.' The present manuscript is written on the recto of an address leaf addressed to Miss Br[ontë].

This poem is one of her earliest (which date from July to December 1829). In all she wrote about 200 and in 1836, when she wrote to Southey asking for his opinion of her talents, she told him that she wished 'to be for ever known' as a poetess. Southey infamously told her she possessed 'in no inconsiderable degree...the faculty of verse... But it is not with a view to distinction that you should cultivate this talent, if you consult your own happiness.'
 

dinsdag 9 april 2013

Henry Nussey finally married

In 1839 Henry Nussey proposed marriage to several young women of his acquaintance, including Charlotte Brontë. “I have no personal repugnance to the idea of a union with you,” she wrote in her unenthusiastic reply, but she claimed to refuse him for altruistic reasons: “mine is not the sort of disposition calculated to form the happiness of a man like you” (to HN, 5 Mar 1839). When he was – or thought he was – engaged later in the same year, she wrote honoring him for “not hunting after wealth” (to HN, 28 Oct 1839), but when he actually got engaged she told Ellen “I am glad . . . to hear that Henry is really going to be married, and still more so to learn that his wife elect has a handsome fortune” (to EN, 14 Nov 1844). blackwellreference

Emily Prescott was the daughter of a gentleman of Hampshire origins, and a citizen of Everton, whence she was married, with Ellen as bridesmaid. The latter’s first impressions were favorable: “She is very pious but very agreeably so and quite free from all affectation” (EN to Mary Gorham, 6 Aug 1845). These impressions proved false. “I could not live with one so cold and narrow,” Charlotte was soon writing, though she adds, unflatteringly for Ellen’s brother, “still I think she is just the person for Henry – she will obtain influence over him and keep it” (to EN, 8 Sep 1845).

Ellen Nussey was at Hathersage to prepare a home for her  brother, Henry Nussey, who had been appointed Vicar of  Hathersage, and had married Emily Prescott. His sister stayed at the Vicarage whilst he was on his honeymoon; she even had to select some of the furniture,  and engage the servants, and have everything in readiness for  the return of the bride and bridegroom. So anxious was she to persuade Charlotte Bronte to be with her at this time that she got her brother to write to Charlotte whilst he was on his honeymoon, " for which you deserve smothering," wrote Charlotte to Ellen Nussey in reply.

In Jane Eyre we can read a discription about this happening :

The three days were, as she had foretold, busy enough. I had thought all the rooms at Thornfield beautifully clean and well arranged; but it appears I was mistaken. Three women were got to help; and such scrubbing, such brushing, such washing of paint and beating of carpets, such taking down and putting up of pictures, such polishing of mirrors and lustres, such lighting of fires in bedrooms, such airing of sheets and feather-beds on hearths, I never beheld, either before or since. Mrs. Fairfax had pressed me into her service, and I was all day in the storeroom, helping (or hindering) her and the cook; learning to make custards and cheese-cakes and French pastry, to truss game and garnish desert-dishes.

Emily Prescott seems to have tried to make Ellen pay for her own washing while she remained with them at Hathersage after their return from their honeymoon, suggesting she was the sort of rich person who is bent on holding on to what she has. She and Henry did not remain long at Hathersage. He seems to have got on the wrong side of people in his new parish, including the Duke of Devonshire. Henry ceased to be a practicing clergyman (like many others in the Brontë story), and he and his wife lived for a time in the South of France. She died in Nice in 1907. The notion that they were unhappy in their marriage and separated seems to be untrue. ... blackwellreference

jane-eyre-hathersage-and-the-apostles-cupboard
---------------------------


Charlotte Bronte visited Hathersage in 1845 and used it as the 'Norton' of the story 'Jane Eyre' - taking the heroine's surname from the local family. She also used North Lees Hall, an Elizabethan manor house 2km north of Hathersage as the house where Mrs Rochester jumped from the roof to her death. North Lees is one seven halls built by Robert Eyre of Highlow (there were many local Robert Eyres) for his seven sons and is one of the finest Elizabethan buildings in the region - a tall square tower with a long wing adjoining.
 

zondag 7 april 2013

Wedding proposal Charlotte Bronte nr 1. "I am not the serious, grave, cool-hearted individual you suppose; you would think me romantic and eccentric."

 
Charlotte Brontë turned down four separate marriage proposals as she was determined not to live with a man she did not think her intellectual moral equal.
 
On March 5, 1839, Charlotte Bronte writes to the Reverend Henry Nussey, declining marriage.

"Before answering your letter, I might have spent a long time in consideration of its subject; but as from the first moment of its reception and perusal I determined on which course to pursue, it seemed to me that delay was wholly unnecessary. You are aware that I have many reasons to feel gratified to your family, that I have peculiar reasons for affection towards one at least of your sisters, and also that I highly esteem yourself. Do not therefore accuse me of wrong motives when I say that my answer to your proposal must be a decided negative. In forming this answer -- I trust I have listened to the dictates of conscience more than to those of inclination; I have no personal repugnance to the idea of a union with you -- but I feel convinced that mine is not the sort of disposition calculated to form the happiness of a man like you. It has always been my habit to study the character of those amongst whom I chance to be thrown, and I think I know yours and can imagine what description of woman would suit you for a wife. Her character should not be too marked, ardent and original -- her temper should be mild, her piety undoubted, her spirits even and cheerful, and her 'personal attractions' sufficient to please your eye and gratify your just pride. As for me, you do not know me, I am not this serious, grave, cool-headed individual you suppose -- You would think me romantic and eccentric -- you would say I was satirical and severe. However, I scorn deceit and I will never for the sake of attaining the distinction of matrimony and escaping the stigma of an old maid take a worthy man whom I am conscious I cannot render happy."
"Before I conclude let me thank you warmly for your other proposal regarding the school near Torrington...the fact is I could not at present enter upon such a project because I have not the capital necessary...It is a pleasure to me to hear that you are so comfortably settled...let me say also that I admire the good sense, and absence of flattery and cant which your letter displayed --! I shall always be glad to hear from you as a friend."
manuscripts/bronte-charlotte-autograph

Charlotte's polite demurral seemingly aroused no apparent resentment on the part of the Nusseys, nor does it seem to have weighed on Charlotte's mind, for she remained on companiable terms with Henry for many years, as attested by the following two letters. Published in Letters ed. T.J. Wise and Symington, no.72.

To Ellen Nussey:

You ask me, my dear Ellen, whether I have received a letter from Henry.  I have, about a week since.  The contents, I confess, did a little surprise me, but I kept them to myself, and unless you had questioned me on the subject, I would never have adverted to it.  Henry says he is comfortably settled at Donnington, that his health is much improved, and that it is his intention to take pupils after Easter.  He then intimates that in due time he should want a wife to take care of his pupils, and frankly asks me to be that wife.  Altogether the letter is written without cant or flattery, and in a common-sense style, which does credit to his judgment.
‘Now, my dear Ellen, there were in this proposal some things which might have proved a strong temptation.  I thought if I were to marry Henry Nussey, his sister could live with me, and how happy I should be.  But again I asked myself two questions: Do I love him as much as a woman ought to love the man she marries?  Am I the person best qualified to make him happy?  Alas! Ellen, my conscience answered no to both these questions.  I felt that though I esteemed, though I had a kindly leaning towards him, because he is an amiable and well-disposed man, yet I had not, and could not have, that intense attachment which would make me willing to die for p. 297him; and, if ever I marry, it must be in that light of adoration that I will regard my husband.  Ten to one I shall never have the chance again; but n’importe.  Moreover, I was aware that Henry knew so little of me he could hardly be conscious to whom he was writing.  Why, it would startle him to see me in my natural home character; he would think I was a wild, romantic enthusiast indeed.  I could not sit all day long making a grave face before my husband.  I would laugh, and satirise, and say whatever came into my head first.  And if he were a clever man, and loved me, the whole world weighed in the balance against his smallest wish should be light as air.  Could I, knowing my mind to be such as that, conscientiously say that I would take a grave, quiet, young man like Henry?  No, it would have been deceiving him, and deception of that sort is beneath me.  So I wrote a long letter back, in which I expressed my refusal as gently as I could, and also candidly avowed my reasons for that refusal.  I described to him, too, the sort of character that would suit him for a wife.—Good-bye, my dear Ellen. gutenberg.org/files

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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