Читать книгу Charlotte Brontë and Her Circle - Clement King Shorter - Страница 7
ОглавлениеThe Foundling, by Captain Tree, written in 1833, is a story of thirty-five thousand words, though the manuscript has only eighteen pages. The Green Dwarf, written in the same year, is even longer, and indeed after her return from Roe Head in 1833, Charlotte must have devoted herself to continuous writing. The Adventures of Ernest Alembert is a booklet of this date, and Arthuriana, or Odds and Ends: being a Miscellaneous Collection of Pieces in Prose and Verse, by Lord Charles Wellesley, is yet another.
The son of the Iron Duke is made to talk, in these little books, in a way which would have gladdened the heart of a modern interviewer:
‘Lord Charles,’ said Mr. Rundle to me one afternoon lately, ‘I have an engagement to drink tea with an old college chum this evening, so I shall give you sixty lines of the Æneid to get ready during my absence. If it is not ready by the time I come back you know the consequences.’ ‘Very well, Sir,’ said I, bringing out the books with a prodigious bustle, and making a show as if I intended to learn a whole book instead of sixty lines of the Æneid. This appearance of industry, however, lasted no longer than until the old gentleman’s back was turned. No sooner had he fairly quitted the room than I flung aside the musty tomes, took my cap, and speeding through chamber, hall, and gallery, was soon outside the gates of Waterloo Palace.’
The Secret, another story, of which Mrs. Gaskell gave a facsimile of the first page, was also written in 1833, and indeed in this, her seventeenth year, Charlotte Brontë must have written as much as in any year of her life. When at Roe Head, 1832–3, she would seem to have worked at her studies, and particularly her drawing; but in the interval between Cowan Bridge and Roe Head she wrote a great deal. The earliest manuscripts in my possession bear date 1829—that is to say, in Charlotte’s thirteenth year. They are her Tales of the Islanders, which extend to four little volumes in brown paper covers neatly inscribed ‘First Volume,’ ‘Second Volume,’ and so on. The Duke is of absorbing importance in these ‘Tales.’ ‘One evening the Duke of Wellington was writing in his room in Downing Street. He was reposing at his ease in a simple easy chair, smoking a homely tobacco-pipe, for he disdained all the modern frippery of cigars …’ and so on in an abundance of childish imaginings. The Search after Happiness and Characters of Great Men of the Present Time were also written in 1829. Perhaps the only juvenile fragment which is worth anything is also the only one in which she escapes from the Wellington enthusiasm. It has an interest also in indicating that Charlotte in her girlhood heard something of her father’s native land. It is called—
AN ADVENTURE IN IRELAND
During my travels in the south of Ireland the following adventure happened to me. One evening in the month of August, after a long walk, I was ascending the mountain which overlooks the village of Cahill, when I suddenly came in sight of a fine old castle. It was built upon a rock, and behind it was a large wood and before it was a river. Over the river there was a bridge, which formed the approach to the castle. When I arrived at the bridge I stood still awhile to enjoy the prospect around me: far below was the wide sheet of still water in which the reflection of the pale moon was not disturbed by the smallest wave; in the valley was the cluster of cabins which is known by the appellation of Cahin, and beyond these were the mountains of Killala. Over all, the grey robe of twilight was now stealing with silent and scarcely perceptible advances. No sound except the hum of the distant village and the sweet song of the nightingale in the wood behind me broke upon the stillness of the scene. While I was contemplating this beautiful prospect, a gentleman, whom I had not before observed, accosted me with ‘Good evening, sir; are you a stranger in these parts?’ I replied that I was. He then asked me where I was going to stop for the night; I answered that I intended to sleep somewhere in the village. ‘I am afraid you will find very bad accommodation there,’ said the gentleman; ‘but if you will take up your quarters with me at the castle, you are welcome.’ I thanked him for his kind offer, and accepted it.
When we arrived at the castle I was shown into a large parlour, in which was an old lady sitting in an arm-chair by the fireside, knitting. On the rug lay a very pretty tortoise-shell cat. As soon as mentioned, the old lady rose; and when Mr. O’Callaghan (for that, I learned, was his name) told her who I was, she said in the most cordial tone that I was welcome, and asked me to sit down. In the course of conversation I learned that she was Mr. O’Callaghan’s mother, and that his father had been dead about a year. We had sat about an hour, when supper was announced, and after supper Mr. O’Callaghan asked me if I should like to retire for the night. I answered in the affirmative, and a little boy was commissioned to show me to my apartment. It was a snug, clean, and comfortable little old-fashioned room at the top of the castle. As soon as we had entered, the boy, who appeared to be a shrewd, good-tempered little fellow, said with a shrug of the shoulder, ‘If it was going to bed I was, it shouldn’t be here that you’d catch me.’ ‘Why?’ said I. ‘Because,’ replied the boy, ‘they say that the ould masther’s ghost has been seen sitting on that there chair.’ ‘And have you seen him?’ ‘No; but I’ve heard him washing his hands in that basin often and often.’ ‘What is your name, my little fellow?’ ‘Dennis Mulready, please your honour.’ ‘Well, good-night to you.’ ‘Good-night, masther; and may the saints keep you from all fairies and brownies,’ said Dennis as he left the room.
As soon as I had laid down I began to think of what the boy had been telling me, and I confess I felt a strange kind of fear, and once or twice I even thought I could discern something white through the darkness which surrounded me. At length, by the help of reason, I succeeded in mastering these, what some would call idle fancies, and fell asleep. I had slept about an hour when a strange sound awoke me, and I saw looking through my curtains a skeleton wrapped in a white sheet. I was overcome with terror and tried to scream, but my tongue was paralysed and my whole frame shook with fear. In a deep hollow voice it said to me, ‘Arise, that I may show thee this world’s wonders,’ and in an instant I found myself encompassed with clouds and darkness. But soon the roar of mighty waters fell upon my ear, and I saw some clouds of spray arising from high falls that rolled in awful majesty down tremendous precipices, and then foamed and thundered in the gulf beneath as if they had taken up their unquiet abode in some giant’s cauldron. But soon the scene changed, and I found myself in the mines of Cracone. There were high pillars and stately arches, whose glittering splendour was never excelled by the brightest fairy palaces. There were not many lamps, only those of a few poor miners, whose rough visages formed a striking contrast to the dazzling figures and grandeur which surrounded them. But in the midst of all this magnificence I felt an indescribable sense of fear and terror, for the sea raged above us, and by the awful and tumultuous noises of roaring winds and dashing waves, it seemed as if the storm was violent. And now the mossy pillars groaned beneath the pressure of the ocean, and the glittering arches seemed about to be overwhelmed. When I heard the rushing waters and saw a mighty flood rolling towards me I gave a loud shriek of terror. The scene vanished, and I found myself in a wide desert full of barren rocks and high mountains. As I was approaching one of the rocks, in which there was a large cave, my foot stumbled and I fell. Just then I heard a deep growl, and saw by the unearthly light of his own fiery eyes a royal lion rousing himself from his kingly slumbers. His terrible eye was fixed upon me, and the desert rang and the rocks echoed with the tremendous roar of fierce delight which he uttered as he sprang towards me. ‘Well, masther, it’s been a windy night, though it’s fine now,’ said Dennis, as he drew the window-curtain and let the bright rays of the morning sun into the little old-fashioned room at the top of O’Callaghan Castle.
C. Brontë.
April the 28th, 1829.
Six numbers of The Young Men’s Magazine were written in 1829; a very juvenile poem, The Evening Walk, by the Marquis of Douro, in 1830; and another, of greater literary value, The Violet, in the same year. In 1831 we have an unfinished poem, The Trumpet Hath Sounded; and in 1832 a very long poem called The Bridal. Some of them, as for example a poem called Richard Coeur de Lion and Blondel, are written in penny and twopenny notebooks of the kind used by laundresses. Occasionally her father has purchased a sixpenny book and has written within the cover—
All that is written in this book must be in a good, plain, and legible hand.—P. B.
While upon this topic, I may as well carry the record up to the date of publication of Currer Bell’s poems. A Leaf from an Unopened Volume was written in 1834, as were also The Death of Darius, and Corner Dishes. Saul: a Poem, was written in 1835, and a number of other still unpublished verses. There is a story called Lord Douro, bearing date 1837, and a manuscript book of verses of 1838, but that pretty well exhausts the manuscripts before me previous to the days of serious literary activity. During the years as private governess (1839–1841) and the Brussels experiences (1842–1844), Charlotte would seem to have put all literary effort on one side.
There is only one letter of Charlotte Brontë’s childhood. It is indorsed by Mr. Brontë on the cover Charlotte’s First Letter, possibly for the guidance of Mrs. Gaskell, who may perhaps have thought it of insufficient importance. That can scarcely be the opinion of any one to-day. Charlotte, aged thirteen, is staying with the Fennells, her mother’s friends of those early love-letters.
TO THE REV. P. BRONTË
‘Parsonage House, Crosstone,
September 23rd, 1829.
‘My dear Papa—At Aunt’s request I write these lines to inform you that “if all be well” we shall be at home on Friday by dinner-time, when we hope to find you in good health. On account of the bad weather we have not been out much, but notwithstanding we have spent our time very pleasantly, between reading, working, and learning our lessons, which Uncle Fennell has been so kind as to teach us every day. Branwell has taken two sketches from nature, and Emily, Anne, and myself have likewise each of us drawn a piece from some views of the lakes which Mr. Fennell brought with him from Westmoreland. The whole of these he intends keeping. Mr. Fennell is sorry he cannot accompany us to Haworth on Friday, for want of room, but hopes to have the pleasure of seeing you soon. All unite in sending their kind love with your affectionate daughter,
‘Charlotte Brontë.’
The following list includes the whole of the early Brontë Manuscripts known to me, or of which I can find any record:—
UNPUBLISHED BRONTË LITERATURE.
BY CHARLOTTE BRONTË
| The Young Men’s Magazines. In Six Numbers [Only four out of these six numbers appear to have been preserved.] | 1829 |
| The Search after Happiness: A Tale. By Charlotte Brontë | 1829 |
| Two Romantic Tales; viz. The Twelve Adventures, and An Adventure in Ireland | 1829 |
| Characters of Great Men of the Present Age, Dec. 17th | 1829 |
| Tales of the Islanders. By Charlotte Brontë:— | |
| Vol. i. dated June 31, 1829 | |
| Vol. ii. dated December 2, 1829 | |
| Vol. iii. dated May 8, 1830 | |
| Vol. iv. dated July 30, 1830 | |
| [Accompanying these volumes is a one-page document detailing ‘The Origin of the Islanders.’ Dated March 12, 1829.] | |
| The Evening Walk: A Poem. By the Marquis Douro | 1830 |
| A Translation into English Verse of the First Book of Voltaire’s Henriade. By Charlotte Brontë | 1830 |
| Albion and Marina: A Tale. By Lord Wellesley | 1830 |
| The Adventures of Ernest Alembert: A Fairy Tale. By Charlotte Brontë | 1830 |
| The Violet: A Poem. With several smaller Pieces. By the Marquess of Douro. Published by Seargeant Tree. Glasstown, 1830 | 1830 |
| The Bridal. By C. Brontë | 1832 |
| Arthuriana; or, Odds and Ends: Being a Miscellaneous Collection of Pieces in Prose and Verse. By Lord Charles A. F. Wellesley | 1833 |
| Something about Arthur. Written by Charles Albert Florian Wellesley | 1833 |
| The Vision. By Charlotte Brontë | 1833 |
| The Secret and Lily Hart: Two Tales. By Lord Charles Wellesley [The first page of this book is given in facsimile in vol. i. of Mrs. Gaskell’s Life of Charlotte Brontë.] | 1833 |
| Visits in Verdopolis. By the Honourable Charles Albert Florian Wellesley. Two vols. | 1833 |
| The Green Dwarf: A Tale of the Perfect Tense. By Lord Charles Albert Florian Wellesley. Charlotte Brontë. | 1833 |
| The Foundling: A Tale of our own Times. By Captain Tree | 1833 |
| Richard Cœur de Lion and Blondel. By Charlotte Brontë, 8vo, pp. 20. Signed in full Charlotte Brontë, and dated Haworth, near Bradford, Dec. 27th, 1833 | 1833 |
| My Angria and the Angrians. By Lord Charles Albert Florian Wellesley | 1834 |
| A Leaf from an Unopened Volume; or, The Manuscript of an Unfortunate Author. Edited by Lord Charles Albert Florian Wellesley | 1834 |
| Corner Dishes: Being a small Collection of … Trifles in Prose and Verse. By Lord Charles Albert Florian Wellesley | 1834 |
| The Spell: An Extravaganza. By Lord Charles Albert Florian Wellesley. Signed Charlotte Brontë, June 21st, 1834. The contents include: 1. Preface, half page; 2. The Spell, 26 pages; 3. High Life in Verdopolis: or The Difficulties of Annexing a Suitable Title to a Work Practically Illustrated in Six Chapters. By Lord C. A. F. Wellesley, March 20, 1834, 22 pages; 4. The Scrap-Book: A Mingling of Many Things. Compiled by Lord C. A. F. Wellesley. C. Brontë, March 17th, 1835, 31 pages. [This volume is in the British Museum.] | |
| Death of Darius Cadomanus: A Poem. By Charlotte Brontë. Pp. 24. Signed in full, and dated | 1835 |
| Saul and Memory: Two Poems. By C. Brontë. Pp. 12 | 1835 |
| Passing Events | 1836 |
| ‘We Wove a Web in Childhood’: A poem (pp. vi.), signed C. Brontë, Haworth, Dec’br. 19th, 1835 | 1835 |
| The Wounded Stag, and other Poems. Signed C. Brontë. Jan’y. 19, 1836. Pp. 20 | 1836 |
| Lord Douro: A Story. Signed C. Brontë. July 21st, 1837 | 1837 |
| Poems. By C. Brontë. Pp. 16 | 1838 |
| Lettre d’Invitation à un Ecclésiastique. Signed Charlotte Brontë. Le 21 Juillet, 1842. Large 8vo, pp. 4. A French exercise written at Brussels | 1842 |
| John Henry. By Charlotte Brontë, Crown 8vo, pp. 36, written in pencil | circa 1852 |
| Willie Ellin. By Charlotte Brontë. Crown 8vo, pp. 18 | May and June 1853 |
| The following, included in Charlotte’s ‘Catalogue of my Books’ printed by Mrs. Gaskell, are not now forthcoming: | |
| Leisure Hours: A Tale, and two Fragments | July 6th, 1829 |
| The Adventures of Edward de Crak: A Tale | Feb. 2nd, 1830 |
| An Interesting Incident in the Lives of some of the most eminent Persons of the Age: A Tale | June 10th, 1830 |
| The Poetaster: A Drama. In two volumes, | July 12th, 1830 |
| A Book of Rhymes, finished | December 17th, 1829 |
| Miscellaneous Poems, finished [These Miscellaneous Poems are probably poems written upon separate sheets, and not forming a complete book—indeed, some half dozen such separate poems are still extant. The last item given in Charlotte’s list of these Miscellaneous Poems is The Evening Walk, 1820; this is a separate book, and is included in the list above.] | May 3rd, 1830 |
BY EMILY BRONTË
| A volume of Poems, 8vo, pp. 29; signed (at the top of the first page) E. J. B. Transcribed February 1814. Each poem is headed with the date of its composition. Of the poems included in this book four are still unprinted, the remainder were published in the Poems of 1846. The whole are written in microscopic characters | 1844 |
| A volume of Poems, square 8vo, pp. 24. Each poem is dated, and the first is signed E. J. Brontë, August 19th, 1837. Written in an ordinary, and not a minute, handwriting. All unpublished | 1837–1839 |
| A series of poems written in a minute hand upon both sides of fourteen or fifteen small slips of paper of various sizes. All unpublished | 1833–1839 |
| Lettre and Réponse. An exercise in French. Large 8vo, pp. 4. Signed E. J. Brontë, and dated 16 Juillet | 1842 |
| L’Amour Filial. An exercise in French. Small quarto, pp. 4. Signed in full Emily J. Brontë, and dated 5 Aout | 1842 |
BY ANNE BRONTË.
| Verses by Lady Geralda, and other poems. A crown 8vo volume of 28 pages. Each poem is signed (or initialled) and dated, the dates extending from 1836 to 1837. The poems are all unpublished | 1836–1837 |
| The North Wind, and other poems. A crown 8vo volume of 26 pages. Each poem is signed (or initialled) and dated, some having in addition to her own name the nom-de-guerre Alexandrina Zenobia or Olivia Vernon. The dates extend from 1838 to 1840. The poems are all unpublished | 1838–1840 |
| To Cowper, and other poems. 8vo, pp. 22. Of the nine poems contained in this volume three are signed Anne Brontë, four are signed A. Brontë, and two are initialled ‘A. B.’ All are dated. Part of these Poems are unpublished, the remainder appeared in the Poems of 1846 | 1842–1845 |
| A thin 8vo volume of poems (mostly dated 1845), pp. 14, each being signed A. Brontë, or simply ‘A. B.’—some having in addition to, or instead of, her own name the nom-de-guerre Zerona. A few of these poems are unprinted; the remainder are a portion of Anne’s contribution to the Poems of 1846 | circa 1845 |
| Song: ‘Should Life’s first feelings be forgot’ (one octavo leaf) [A fair copy (2 pp. 8vo) of a poem by Branwell Brontë, in the hand-writing of Anne Brontë.] | 1845 |
| The Power of Love, and other poems. Post octavo, pp. 26. Each poem is signed (or initialled) and dated | 1845–1846 |
| Self Communion, a Poem. 8vo, pp. 19. Signed ‘A. B.’ and dated April 17th, 1848 | 1848 |
BY BRANWELL BRONTË.
| The Battle of Washington. By P. B. Brontë. With full-page coloured illustrations [An exceedingly childish production, and the earliest of all the Brontë manuscripts.] | 1827 |
| History of the Rebellion in my Army | 1828 |
| The Travels of Rolando Segur: Comprising his Adventures throughout the Voyage, and in America, Europe, the South Pole, etc. By Patrick Branwell Brontë. In two volumes | 1829 |
| A Collection of Poems. By Young Soult the Rhymer. Illustrated with Notes and Commentaries by Monsieur Chateaubriand. In two volumes | 1829 |
| The Liar Detected. By Captain Bud | 1830 |
| Caractacus: A Dramatic Poem. By Young Soult | 1830 |
| The Revenge: A Tragedy, in three Acts. By Young Soult. P. B. Brontë. In two volumes. Glasstown [Although the title page reads ‘in two volumes,’ the book is complete in one volume only.] | 1830 |
| The History of the Young Men. By John Bud | 1831 |
| Letters from an Englishman. By Captain John Flower. In six volumes | 1830–1832 |
| The Monthly Intelligencer. No. 1 [The only number produced of a projected manuscript newspaper, by Branwell Brontë. The MS. consists of 4 pp. 4to, arranged in columns, precisely after the manner of an ordinary journal.] | March 27, 1833 |
| Real Life in Verdopolis: A Tale. By Captain John Flower, M.P. In two volumes. P. B. Brontë | 1833 |
| The Politics of Verdopolis: A Tale. By Captain John Flower. P. B. Brontë | 1833 |
| The Pirate: A Tale. By Captain John Flower [The most pretentious of Branwell’s prose stories.] | 1833 |
| Thermopylae: A Poem. By P. B. Brontë. 8vo, pp. 14 | 1834 |
| And the Weary are at Rest: A Tale. By P. B. Brontë | 1834 |
| The Wool is Rising: An Angrian Adventure. By the Right Honourable John Baron Flower | 1834 |
| Ode to the Polar Star, and other Poems. By P. B. Brontë. Quarto, pp. 24 | 1834 |
| The Life of Field Marshal the Right Honourable Alexander Percy, Earl of Northangerland. In two volumes. By John Bud. P. B. Brontë | 1835 |
| The Rising of the Angrians: A Tale. By P. B. Brontë | 1836 |
| A Narrative of the First War. By P. B. Brontë | 1836 |
| The Angrian Welcome: A Tale. By P. B. Brontë | 1836 |
| Percy: A Story. By P. B. Brontë A packet containing four small groups of Poems, of about six or eight pages each, mostly without titles, but all either signed or initialled, and dated from 1836 to 1838 | 1837 |
| Love and Warfare: A Story. By P. B. Brontë | 1839 |
| Lord Nelson, and other Poems. By P. B. Brontë. Written in pencil. Small 8vo, pp. 26 [This book contains a full-page pencil portrait of Branwell Brontë, drawn by himself, as well as four carefully finished heads. These give an excellent idea of the extent of Branwell’s artistic skill.] | 1844 |
