LANDMARK
Maids of the moors
USHA MUKUNDA
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A visit to Haworth sheds light on the life of the Bronte sisters.
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We stood there marvelling at the spirit of the sisters who wrote such masterpieces while living in such a dark and heavy atmosphere.
Bleak house: The parsonage at Haworth.
"THERE was no possibility of taking a walk that day... " So begins the unforgettable story of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. For those who have read the book first as a romantic story and then later begun to appreciate the author's literary genius, the possibility of seeing her home would be irresistible.
Tucked away in the north of England is the remote village of Haworth, in Yorkshire. This was the home of English literary history's most prolific and creative family, the Brontes. The Reverend Patrick Bronte came to the parish church in 1820 with his wife, five daughters and a son.
Prolific writers
By the time he died in 1861, he was the sole surviving member of the family. But in the space of that time, the Bronte sisters had published a book of poems under the male names of Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell, written and published novels of great originality, intensity and passion — and had all died before they reached 40!
What were the environment and the conditions under which Charlotte Bronte wrote her classic novel? On a visit to the U.K. to take in literary sites, I found that Haworth was not listed on any of the maps and barely mentioned in guidebooks. By a stroke of luck, a writer-friend who lived at Leeds knew exactly how to get there and was happy to accompany us.
It was a typical Bronte day. A cold wind, sombre clouds and a penetrating rain, as we set out from the Lake District by train to a place called Keighly (pronounced Keetly). After changing trains every 10 minutes, we steamed in to the station to be met by our friends armed with umbrellas and sandwiches. A short walk to the bus station and we were soon seated in a bus headed for Haworth.
The landscape changed very quickly from bustling town life to lonely stretches of bare land. We got off at a crossroads reliving Jane's feelings when the coach in which she was fleeing from Rochester deposited her on a gloomy moor. We began to walk towards the first signs of habitation we could see. This was the narrow and steep main street of Haworth.
Life at Haworth
As we walked, I remembered what I had read about the Brontes. Within a few years of moving here, Mrs. Bronte died. The father sent the girls to a charity school, which had the most appalling conditions. The two older daughters died there and the others were brought back suffering from consumption, which was to shorten their lives. Charlotte portrayed this school as Lorwood in her novel where Jane's friend Helen Burns dies.
At home the sisters entertained themselves by making up stories about imaginary lands and people. Their brother, Branwell who joined them was especially gifted in these make-believe games. He was also a talented portrait painter. But he did not shine academically and perhaps the pressure and expectations from his father led him to turn to drink and debauchery. As we walked up the street past a pub, we read a sign saying Branwell used to frequent the place.
We went on and then as the slope ended, there it was — the parsonage with the small church next door. The house looks cheerful from the outside, with a garden stretching out and windows all along the front. But when you enter, the rooms are many and rather small. The low roofs add to a feeling of constriction and the windows do not let in much light. Mr. Bronte's study, where he spent most of his time, had his personal belongings on his desk and we could visualise his daily routine.
Next the dining room where all three sisters wrote their novels on the table. We lingered there for as long as we were permitted, contemplating the astounding fact that the three of them had brought out three novels in the same year — Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, Anne Bronte's Agnes Grey and of course Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre.
Inside the parsonage
On the way upstairs, was a grandfather clock wound by Mr. Bronte every night as he went up to bed. His bedroom was the largest but, for many years, Branwell slept there with his father. The miniscule children's room where the siblings gathered to make up their fantasies...
An art gallery was added much later to show Branwell's works. This brought him a little money. His famous portrait of Emily and another of the three sisters hangs in the National Portrait Gallery in London.
Charlotte's room, which she shared with her husband towards the end of her life, was where he nursed her faithfully through her last illness linked to pregnancy.
Walking through the rooms, examining their most personal belongings, glancing out of the windows to see what they could see, vividly brought back the family's bleak yet amazingly creative lives.
Looming presence
We were told that the surroundings and the landscape had not changed much since then. As we left from the back door, we walked down a narrow path and round the corner of the house lay the moors — barren, desolate and a looming presence.
We stood there absorbing the mood of the place, marvelling at the spirit of the sisters who wrote such masterpieces while living in such a dark and heavy atmosphere.
The house has an excellent library containing all the works written by the sisters, the first editions and related material. The bookshop had some interesting items like a facsimile postcard with Charlotte's scribbling from Jane Eyre.
We went into the parish church and looked at the pillar inside, under which the entire family was buried. Omnes eodem cogimur — we are all driven into the same fold. ( Horace)
We returned with much to think about. How did Charlotte manage to infuse her novel with so much humour and playfulness living in such surroundings and haunted by the spectre of ill health?
For further information, log on to www.bronte.info. What would the Rev. Bronte have made of that?
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