Posts tonen met het label Haworth today. Alle posts tonen

vrijdag 2 juni 2023

Video, Bronte sisters heading home.

Pretend you are one of the Brontë sisters and you are heading back home:

donderdag 18 mei 2023

The Old post Office Haworth.

The restored shop front is almost complete; we just need to add the corbels and the horizontal sign panel to the top

 From the Facebookpage of the Old Post Office Haworth 
The Old Post Office Haworth | Haworth | Facebook:

Over a year of careful planning has gone into the design and details of the front of the Old Post Office. We were keen to bring it back to an early Victorian style, complete with smaller window panes and narrow glazing bars. Many thanks to our talented local joiner, Richard, for his meticulous work in making and fitting all the windows and the panelled stall riser. 

The Heritage Officer was keen to retain the existing front door and, although it is later in style (probably Edwardian), it sits well in the newly painted shop front. 

The removal of incongruous concrete steps under the shop window was a massive task, but well worth it; we have now revealed the original cellar window and reinstated the railings around the drop. 

The front of the building will also feature a hanging sign on a Victorian-style ornate bracket, and a heritage Sugg lantern.

N.B.  The larger top step has a little groove in it to carry rain water away from the centre of it! It would form a puddle and freeze in winter without it.

zondag 17 juli 2022

Haworth at 4.30 in the morning.

Beautiful photographes on the Facebook page of Dave Zdanowicz.

Haworth at about 4:30am this morning. Rained just as I got there!

zondag 19 december 2021

Beautiful photographs of Haworth - Dave Zdanowicz Photography

Beautiful photographs of Haworth -

Dave Zdanowicz Photography

facebook/davezphoto

zaterdag 6 november 2021

HAWORTH | Full tour of HAWORTH Village BRONTE COUNTRY England | 4K Walki...

vrijdag 23 juli 2021

Villagers vow to not let historic Yorkshire village Post Office go without a fight.

Campaigners are fighting to save a beloved Post Office on the street where the Brontës lived.

There has been a Post Office on Haworth Main Street, near Keighley, for over 150 years, and the Brontës may well have used the old premises, which was housed just metres away from its current home. Read more: Examiner live

maandag 31 mei 2021

Pretty Penny, Haworth.

This was the tourist office until recently. and (long) before that the Yorkshire Penny Bank and the first home of the Bronte Museum.

Look here for the history of this building: annebronte/treasures-of-the-first-bronte-museums

Owner, Jill Ross, has been a business owner in the village since 2006. She began by opening Cobbles and Clay, a pottery painting café. After success in the café, she opened her first home, fashion and gift shop; Daisy Days. Fast forward a number of years; the café outgrew its premise and moved a few doors up the iconic cobbled Main Street; the shop has since moved into the building that was once the Yorkshire Penny Bank in 1894, hence the name Pretty Penny. The building is steeped in history and we are so pleased to call it ours.

instagram/pretty penny haworth

More great shops of now a days Haworth

busymumlifestyle/haworth

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.

the Brontë Sisters