Chapter XVII: The Rev. Arthur Bell Nicholls (1)

Without the kindly assistance of Mr. Arthur Bell Nicholls, this book could not have been written, and I might therefore be supposed to guide my pen with appalling discretion in treating of the married life of Charlotte Bronte. There are, however, no painful secrets to reveal, no skeletons to lay bare. Mr. Nicholls's story is a very simple one; and that it is entirely creditable to him, there is abundant evidence. Amid the full discussion to which the lives of the Brontes have necessarily been subjected through their ever-continuous fame, it was perhaps inevitable that a contrary opinion should gain ground. Many of Mr. Nicholls's relatives in his own country have frequently sighed over the perverted statements which have obtained currency. 'It is cruel that your uncle Arthur, the best of men, as we know, should be thus treated,' was the comment of Mr. Nicholls's brother to his daughter after reading an unfriendly article concerning Charlotte's husband. Yet it was not unnatural that such an estimate should get abroad; and I may frankly admit that until I met Mr. Nicholls I believed that Charlotte Bronte's marriage had been an unhappy one--an opinion gathered partly from Mrs. Gaskell, partly from current tradition in Yorkshire. Mrs. Gaskell, in fact, did not like Mr. Nicholls, and there were those with whom she came in contact while writing Miss Bronte's Life who were eager to fan that feeling in the usually kindly biographer. Mr. Nicholls himself did not work in the direction of conciliation. He was, as we shall see, a Scotchman, and Scottish taciturnity brought to bear upon the genial and jovial Yorkshire folk did not make for friendliness. Further, he would not let Mrs. Gaskell 'edit' and change _The Professor_, and here also he did wisely and well. He hated publicity, and above all things viewed the attempt to pierce the veil of his married life with almost morbid detestation. Who shall say that he was not right, and that his retirement for more than forty years from the whole region of controversy has not abundantly justified itself? One at least of Miss Bronte's friends has been known in our day to complain bitterly of all the trouble to which she has been subjected by the ill-considered zeal of Bronte enthusiasts. Mr. Nicholls has escaped all this by a judicious silence. Now that forty years and more have passed since his wife's death, it cannot be inopportune to tell the public all that they can fairly ask to know.

Mr. Nicholls was born in Co. Antrim in 1817, but of Scottish parents on both sides. He was left at the age of seven to the charge of an uncle--the Rev. Alan Bell--who was headmaster of the Royal School at Banagher, in King's Co. Mr. Nicholls afterwards entered Trinity College, Dublin, and it was thence that he went to Haworth, his first curacy. He succeeded a fellow countryman, Mr. Peter Augustus Smith, in 1844. The first impression we have of the new curate in Charlotte's letters is scarcely more favourable than that of his predecessors.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_October_ 9_th_, 1844.

'DEAR ELLEN,--We are getting on here the same as usual, only that
Branwell has been more than ordinarily troublesome and annoying of
late; he leads papa a wretched life. Mr. Nicholls is returned just
the same. I cannot for my life see those interesting germs of
goodness in him you discovered; his narrowness of mind always strikes
me chiefly. I fear he is indebted to your imagination for his hidden
treasure.--Yours,

'C. B.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_July_ 10_th_, 1846.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Who gravely asked you whether Miss Bronte was not going
to be married to her papa's curate? I scarcely need say that never
was rumour more unfounded. A cold faraway sort of civility are the
only terms on which I have ever been with Mr. Nicholls. I could by
no means think of mentioning such a rumour to him even as a joke. It
would make me the laughing-stock of himself and his fellow curates
for half a year to come. They regard me as an old maid, and I regard
them, one and all, as highly uninteresting, narrow, and unattractive
specimens of the coarser sex.

'Write to me again soon, whether you have anything particular to say
or not. Give my sincere love to your mother and sisters.

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_November_ 17_th_, 1846.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I will just write a brief despatch to say that I
received yours and that I was very glad to get it. I do not know
when you have been so long without writing to me before. I had begun
to imagine you were gone to your brother Joshua's.

'Papa continues to do very well. He read prayers twice in the church
last Sunday. Next Sunday he will have to take the whole duty of the
three services himself, as Mr. Nicholls is in Ireland. Remember me
to your mother and sisters. Write as soon as you possibly can after
you get to Oundle. Good luck go with you.

'C. BRONTE.'

That Scotch reticence held sway, and told against Mr. Nicholls for many a day to come.

[Picture: THE REV. ARTHUR BELL NICHOLLS]

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_October_ 7_th_, 1847.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I have been expecting you to write to me; but as you
don't do it, and as, moreover, you may possibly think it is my turn,
and not yours, though on that point I am far from clear, I shall just
send you one of my scrubby notes for the express purpose of eliciting
a reply. Anne was very much pleased with your letter; I presume she
has answered it before now. I would fain hope that her health is a
little stronger than it was, and her spirits a little better, but she
leads much too sedentary a life, and is continually sitting stooping
either over a book or over her desk. It is with difficulty we can
prevail upon her to take a walk or induce her to converse. I look
forward to next summer with the confident intention that she shall,
if possible, make at least a brief sojourn at the sea-side.

'I am sorry I inoculated you with fears about the east wind; I did
not feel the last blast so severely as I have often done. My
sympathies were much awakened by the touching anecdote. Did you
salute your boy-messenger with a box on the ear the next time he came
across you? I think I should have been strongly tempted to have done
as much. Mr. Nicholls is not yet returned. I am sorry to say that
many of the parishioners express a desire that he should not trouble
himself to recross the Channel. This is not the feeling that ought
to exist between shepherd and flock. It is not such as is prevalent
at Birstall. It is not such as poor Mr. Weightman excited.

'Give my best love to all of them, and--Believe me, yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

The next glimpse is more kindly.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_January_ 28_th_, 1850.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I cannot but be concerned to hear of your mother's
illness; write again soon, if it be but a line, to tell me how she
gets on. This shadow will, I trust and believe, be but a passing
one, but it is a foretaste and warning of what _must come_ one day.
Let it prepare your mind, dear Ellen, for that great trial which, if
you live, it _must_ in the course of a few years be your lot to
undergo. That cutting asunder of the ties of nature is the pain we
most dread and which we are most certain to experience. Lewes's
letter made me laugh; I cannot respect him more for it. Sir J. K.
Shuttleworth's letter did not make me laugh; he has written again
since. I have received to-day a note from Miss Alexander, daughter,
she says, of Dr. Alexander. Do you know anything of her? Mary
Taylor seems in good health and spirits, and in the way of doing
well. I shall feel anxious to hear again soon.

'C. B.

'_P.S._--Mr. Nicholls has finished reading _Shirley_; he is delighted
with it. John Brown's wife seriously thought he had gone wrong in
the head as she heard him giving vent to roars of laughter as he sat
alone, clapping his hands and stamping on the floor. He would read
all the scenes about the curates aloud to Papa. He triumphed in his
own character. {468} What Mr. Grant will say is another thing. No
matter.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _July_ 27_th_, 1851.

'DEAR NELL,--I hope you have taken no cold from your wretched journey
home; you see you should have taken my advice and stayed till
Saturday. Didn't I tell you I had a "presentiment" it would be
better for you to do so?

'I am glad you found your mother pretty well. Is she disposed to
excuse the wretched petrified condition of the bilberry preserve, in
consideration of the intent of the donor? It seems they had high
company while you were away. You see what you lose by coming to
Haworth. No events here since your departure except a long letter
from Miss Martineau. (She did not write the article on "Woman" in
the _Westminster_; by the way, it is the production of a man, and one
of the first philosophers and political economists and metaphysicians
of the day.) {469} Item, the departure of Mr. Nicholls for Ireland,
and his inviting himself on the eve thereof to come and take a
farewell tea; good, mild, uncontentious. Item, a note from the
stiff-like chap who called about the epitaph for his cousin. I
inclose this--a finer gem in its way it would be difficult to
conceive. You need not, however, be at the trouble of returning it.
How are they at Hunsworth yet? It is no use saying whether I am
solitary or not; I drive on very well, and papa continues pretty
well.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

I print the next letter here because, although it contains no reference to Mr. Nicholls, it has a bearing upon the letter following it. Dr. Wheelwright shared Mr. Bronte's infirmity of defective eyesight.

TO MISS LAETITIA WHEELWRIGHT

'HAWORTH, _April_ 12_th_, 1852.

'DEAR LAETITIA,--Your last letter gave me much concern. I had hoped
you were long ere this restored to your usual health, and it both
pained and surprised me to hear that you still suffer so much from
debility. I cannot help thinking your constitution is naturally
sound and healthy. Can it be the air of London which disagrees with
you? For myself, I struggled through the winter and the early part
of spring often with great difficulty. My friend stayed with me a
few days in the early part of January--she could not be spared
longer. I was better during her visit, but had a relapse soon after
she left me, which reduced my strength very much. It cannot be
denied that the solitude of my position fearfully aggravated its
other evils. Some long, stormy days and nights there were when I
felt such a craving for support and companionship as I cannot
express. Sleepless, I lay awake night after night; weak and unable
to occupy myself, I sat in my chair day after day, the saddest
memories my only company. It was a time I shall never forget, but
God sent it and it must have been for the best.

'I am better now, and very grateful do I feel for the restoration of
tolerable health; but, as if there was always to be some affliction,
papa, who enjoyed wonderful health during the whole winter, is ailing
with his spring attack of bronchitis. I earnestly trust it may pass
over in the comparatively ameliorated form in which it has hitherto
shown itself.

'Let me not forget to answer your question about the cataract. Tell
your papa my father was seventy at the time he underwent an
operation; he was most reluctant to try the experiment--could not
believe that at his age and with his want of robust strength it would
succeed. I was obliged to be very decided in the matter and to act
entirely on my own responsibility. Nearly six years have now elapsed
since the cataract was extracted (it was not merely depressed). He
has never once, during that time, regretted the step, and a day
seldom passes that he does not express gratitude and pleasure at the
restoration of that inestimable privilege of vision whose loss he
once knew.

'I hope the next tidings you hear of your brother Charles will be
satisfactory for his parents' and sisters' sake as well as his own.
Your poor mamma has had many successive trials, and her uncomplaining
resignation seems to offer us all an example worthy to be followed.
Remember me kindly to her, to your papa, and all your circle,
and--Believe me, with best wishes to yourself, yours sincerely,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO REV. P. BRONTE, HAWORTH, YORKS

'CLIFF HOUSE, FILEY, _June_ 2_nd_, 1852.

'DEAR PAPA,--Thank you for your letter, which I was so glad to get
that I think I must answer it by return of post. I had expected one
yesterday, and was perhaps a little unreasonably anxious when
disappointed, but the weather has been so very cold that I feared
either you were ill or Martha worse. I hope Martha will take care of
herself. I cannot help feeling a little uneasy about her.

'On the whole I get on very well here, but I have not bathed yet as I
am told it is much too cold and too early in the season. The sea is
very grand. Yesterday it was a somewhat unusually high tide, and I
stood about an hour on the cliffs yesterday afternoon watching the
tumbling in of great tawny turbid waves, that made the whole shore
white with foam and filled the air with a sound hollower and deeper
than thunder. There are so very few visitors at Filey yet that I and
a few sea-birds and fishing-boats have often the whole expanse of
sea, shore, and cliff to ourselves. When the tide is out the sands
are wide, long, and smooth, and very pleasant to walk on. When the
high tides are in, not a vestige of sand remains. I saw a great dog
rush into the sea yesterday, and swim and bear up against the waves
like a seal. I wonder what Flossy would say to that.

'On Sunday afternoon I went to a church which I should like Mr.
Nicholls to see. It was certainly not more than thrice the length
and breadth of our passage, floored with brick, the walls green with
mould, the pews painted white, but the paint almost all worn off with
time and decay. At one end there is a little gallery for the
singers, and when these personages stood up to perform they all
turned their backs upon the congregation, and the congregation turned
_their_ backs on the pulpit and parson. The effect of this manoeuvre
was so ludicrous, I could hardly help laughing; had Mr. Nicholls been
there he certainly would have laughed out. Looking up at the gallery
and seeing only the broad backs of the singers presented to their
audience was excessively grotesque. There is a well-meaning but
utterly inactive clergyman at Filey, and Methodists flourish.

'I cannot help enjoying Mr. Butterfield's defeat; and yet in one
sense this is a bad state of things, calculated to make working
people both discontented and insubordinate. Give my kind regards,
dear papa, to Mr. Nicholls, Tabby, and Martha. Charge Martha to
beware of draughts, and to get such help in her cleaning as she shall
need. I hope you will continue well.--Believe me, your affectionate
daughter,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_December_ 15_th_, 1852.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I return the note, which is highly characteristic, and
not, I fear, of good omen for the comfort of your visit. There must
be something wrong in herself as well as in her servants. I inclose
another note which, taken in conjunction with the incident
immediately preceding it, and with a long series of indications whose
meaning I scarce ventured hitherto to interpret to myself, much less
hint to any other, has left on my mind a feeling of deep concern.
This note you will see is from Mr. Nicholls.

'I know not whether you have ever observed him specially when staying
here. Your perception is generally quick enough--_too_ quick, I have
sometimes thought; yet as you never said anything, I restrained my
own dim misgivings, which could not claim the sure guide of vision.
What papa has seen or guessed I will not inquire, though I may
conjecture. He has minutely noticed all Mr. Nicholls's low spirits,
all his threats of expatriation, all his symptoms of impaired
health--noticed them with little sympathy and much indirect sarcasm.
On Monday evening Mr. Nicholls was here to tea. I vaguely felt
without clearly seeing, as without seeing I have felt for some time,
the meaning of his constant looks, and strange, feverish restraint.
After tea I withdrew to the dining-room as usual. As usual, Mr.
Nicholls sat with papa till between eight and nine o'clock; I then
heard him open the parlour door as if going. I expected the clash of
the front door. He stopped in the passage; he tapped; like lightning
it flashed on me what was coming. He entered; he stood before me.
What his words were you can guess; his manner you can hardly realise,
nor can I forget it. Shaking from head to foot, looking deadly pale,
speaking low, vehemently, yet with difficulty, he made me for the
first time feel what it costs a man to declare affection where he
doubts response.

'The spectacle of one ordinarily so statue-like thus trembling,
stirred, and overcome, gave me a kind of strange shock. He spoke of
sufferings he had borne for months, of sufferings he could endure no
longer, and craved leave for some hope. I could only entreat him to
leave me then and promise a reply on the morrow. I asked him if he
had spoken to papa. He said he dared not. I think I half led, half
put him out of the room. When he was gone I immediately went to
papa, and told him what had taken place. Agitation and anger
disproportionate to the occasion ensued; if I had _loved_ Mr.
Nicholls, and had heard such epithets applied to him as were used, it
would have transported me past my patience; as it was, my blood
boiled with a sense of injustice. But papa worked himself into a
state not to be trifled with: the veins on his temples started up
like whip-cord, and his eyes became suddenly bloodshot. I made haste
to promise that Mr. Nicholls should on the morrow have a distinct
refusal.

'I wrote yesterday and got this note. There is no need to add to
this statement any comment. Papa's vehement antipathy to the bare
thought of any one thinking of me as a wife, and Mr. Nicholls's
distress, both give me pain. Attachment to Mr. Nicholls you are
aware I never entertained, but the poignant pity inspired by his
state on Monday evening, by the hurried revelation of his sufferings
for many months, is something galling and irksome. That he cared
something for me, and wanted me to care for him, I have long
suspected, but I did not know the degree or strength of his feelings.
Dear Nell, good-bye.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.

'I have letters from Sir J. K. Shuttleworth and Miss Martineau, but I
cannot talk of them now.'

With this letter we see the tragedy beginning. Mr. Bronte, with his daughter's fame ringing in his ears, thought she should do better than marry a curate with a hundred pounds per annum. For once, and for the only time in his life there is reason to believe, his passions were thoroughly aroused. It is to the honour of Mr. Nicholls, and says much for his magnanimity, that he has always maintained that Mr. Bronte was perfectly justified in the attitude he adopted. His present feeling for Mr. Bronte is one of unbounded respect and reverence, and the occasional unfriendly references to his father-in-law have pained him perhaps even more than when he has been himself the victim.

'Attachment to Mr. Nicholls you are aware I never entertained.' A good deal has been made of this and other casual references of Charlotte Bronte to her slight affection for her future husband. Martha Brown, the servant, used in her latter days to say that Charlotte would come into the kitchen and ask her if it was right to marry a man one did not entirely love--and Martha Brown's esteem for Mr. Nicholls was very great. But it is possible to make too much of all this. It is a commonplace of psychology to say that a woman's love is of slow growth. It is quite certain that Charlotte Bronte suffered much during this period of alienation and separation; that she alone secured Mr. Nicholls's return to Haworth, after his temporary estrangement from Mr. Bronte; and finally, that the months of her married life, prior to her last illness, were the happiest she was destined to know.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _December_ 18_th_, 1852.

'DEAR NELL,--You may well ask, how is it? for I am sure I don't know.
This business would seem to me like a dream, did not my reason tell
me it has long been brewing. It puzzles me to comprehend how and
whence comes this turbulence of feeling.

'You ask how papa demeans himself to Mr. Nicholls. I only wish you
were here to see papa in his present mood: you would know something
of him. He just treats him with a hardness not to be bent, and a
contempt not to be propitiated. The two have had no interview as
yet; all has been done by letter. Papa wrote, I must say, a most
cruel note to Mr. Nicholls on Wednesday. In his state of mind and
health (for the poor man is horrifying his landlady, Martha's mother,
by entirely rejecting his meals) I felt that the blow must be
parried, and I thought it right to accompany the pitiless despatch by
a line to the effect that, while Mr. Nicholls must never expect me to
reciprocate the feeling he had expressed, yet, at the same time, I
wished to disclaim participation in sentiments calculated to give him
pain; and I exhorted him to maintain his courage and spirits. On
receiving the two letters, he set off from home. Yesterday came the
inclosed brief epistle.

'You must understand that a good share of papa's anger arises from
the idea, not altogether groundless, that Mr. Nicholls has behaved
with disingenuousness in so long concealing his aim. I am afraid
also that papa thinks a little too much about his want of money; he
says the match would be a degradation, that I should be throwing
myself away, that he expects me, if I marry at all, to do very
differently; in short, his manner of viewing the subject is on the
whole far from being one in which I can sympathise. My own
objections arise from a sense of incongruity and uncongeniality in
feelings, tastes, principles.

'How are you getting on, dear Nell, and how are all at Brookroyd?
Remember me kindly to everybody.--Yours, wishing devoutly that papa
would resume his tranquillity, and Mr. Nicholls his beef and pudding,

'C. BRONTE.

'I am glad to say that the incipient inflammation in papa's eye is
disappearing.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_January_ 2_nd_, 1853.

'DEAR NELL,--I thought of you on New Year's night, and hope you got
well over your formidable tea-making. I trust that Tuesday and
Wednesday will also pass pleasantly. I am busy too in my little way
preparing to go to London this week, a matter which necessitates some
little application to the needle. I find it is quite necessary I
should go to superintend the press, as Mr. Smith seems quite
determined not to let the printing get on till I come. I have
actually only received three proof-sheets since I was at Brookroyd.
Papa wants me to go too, to be out of the way, I suppose; but I am
sorry for one other person whom nobody pities but me. Martha is
bitter against him; John Brown says "he should like to shoot him."
They don't understand the nature of his feelings, but I see now what
they are. He is one of those who attach themselves to very few,
whose sensations are close and deep, like an underground stream,
running strong, but in a narrow channel. He continues restless and
ill; he carefully performs the occasional duty, but does not come
near the church, procuring a substitute every Sunday. A few days
since he wrote to papa requesting permission to withdraw his
resignation. Papa answered that he should only do so on condition of
giving his written promise never again to broach the obnoxious
subject either to him or to me. This he has evaded doing, so the
matter remains unsettled. I feel persuaded the termination will be
his departure for Australia. Dear Nell, without loving him, I don't
like to think of him suffering in solitude, and wish him anywhere so
that he were happier. He and papa have never met or spoken yet. I
am very glad to learn that your mother is pretty well, and also that
the piece of challenged work is progressing. I hope you will not be
called away to Norfolk before I come home: I should like you to pay a
visit to Haworth first. Write again soon.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_March_ 4_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--We had the parsons to supper as well as to tea. Mr. N.
demeaned himself not quite pleasantly. I thought he made no effort
to struggle with his dejection but gave way to it in a manner to draw
notice; the Bishop was obviously puzzled by it. Mr. Nicholls also
showed temper once or twice in speaking to papa. Martha was
beginning to tell me of certain "flaysome" looks also, but I desired
not to hear of them. The fact is, I shall be most thankful when he
is well away. I pity him, but I don't like that dark gloom of his.
He dogged me up the lane after the evening service in no pleasant
manner. He stopped also in the passage after the Bishop and the
other clergy were gone into the room, and it was because I drew away
and went upstairs that he gave that look which filled Martha's soul
with horror. She, it seems, meantime, was making it her business to
watch him from the kitchen door. If Mr. Nicholls be a good man at
bottom, it is a sad thing that nature has not given him the faculty
to put goodness into a more attractive form. Into the bargain of all
the rest he managed to get up a most pertinacious and needless
dispute with the Inspector, in listening to which all my old
unfavourable impressions revived so strongly, I fear my countenance
could not but shew them.

'Dear Nell, I consider that on the whole it is a mercy you have been
at home and not at Norfolk during the late cold weather. Love to all
at Brookroyd.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_March_ 9_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I am sure Miss Wooler would enjoy her visit to you, as
much as you her company. Dear Nell, I thank you sincerely for your
discreet and friendly silence on the point alluded to. I had feared
it would be discussed between you two, and had an inexpressible
shrinking at the thought; now less than ever does it seem a matter
open to discussion. I hear nothing, and you must quite understand
that if I feel any uneasiness it is not that of confirmed and fixed
regard, but that anxiety which is inseparable from a state of
absolute uncertainty about a somewhat momentous matter. I do not
know, I am not sure myself, that any other termination would be
better than lasting estrangement and unbroken silence. Yet a good
deal of pain has been and must be gone through in that case.
However, to each his burden.

'I have not yet read the papers; D.V. I will send them
to-morrow.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.

'Understand that in whatever I have said above, it was not for pity
or sympathy. I hardly pity myself. Only I wish that in all matters
in this world there was fair and open dealing, and no underhand
work.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _April_ 6_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--My visit to Manchester is for the present put off by
Mr. Morgan having written to say that since papa will not go to
Buckingham to see him he will come to Yorkshire to see papa; when, I
don't yet know, and I trust in goodness he will not stay long, as
papa really cannot bear putting out of his way. I must wait,
however, till the infliction is over.

'You ask about Mr. Nicholls. I hear he has got a curacy, but do not
yet know where. I trust the news is true. He and papa never speak.
He seems to pass a desolate life. He has allowed late circumstances
so to act on him as to freeze up his manner and overcast his
countenance not only to those immediately concerned but to every one.
He sits drearily in his rooms. If Mr. Grant or any other clergyman
calls to see, and as they think, to cheer him, he scarcely speaks. I
find he tells them nothing, seeks no confidant, rebuffs all attempts
to penetrate his mind. I own I respect him for this. He still lets
Flossy go to his rooms, and takes him to walk. He still goes over to
see Mr. Sowden sometimes, and, poor fellow, that is all. He looks
ill and miserable. I think and trust in Heaven that he will be
better as soon as he fairly gets away from Haworth. I pity him
inexpressibly. We never meet nor speak, nor dare I look at him;
silent pity is just all that I can give him, and as he knows nothing
about that, it does not comfort. He is now grown so gloomy and
reserved that nobody seems to like him. His fellow-curates shun
trouble in that shape; the lower orders dislike it. Papa has a
perfect antipathy to him, and he, I fear, to papa. Martha hates him.
I think he might almost be _dying_ and they would not speak a
friendly word to or of him. How much of all this he deserves I can't
tell; certainly he never was agreeable or amiable, and is less so now
than ever, and alas! I do not know him well enough to be sure that
there is truth and true affection, or only rancour and corroding
disappointment at the bottom of his chagrin. In this state of things
I must be, and I am, _entirely passive_. I may be losing the purest
gem, and to me far the most precious, life can give--genuine
attachment--or I may be escaping the yoke of a morose temper. In
this doubt conscience will not suffer me to take one step in
opposition to papa's will, blended as that will is with the most
bitter and unreasonable prejudices. So I just leave the matter where
we must leave all important matters.

'Remember me kindly to all at Brookroyd, and--Believe me, yours
faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_May_ 16th, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--The east winds about which you inquire have spared me
wonderfully till to-day, when I feel somewhat sick physically, and
not very blithe mentally. I am not sure that the east winds are
entirely to blame for this ailment. Yesterday was a strange sort of
a day at church. It seems as if I were to be punished for my doubts
about the nature and truth of poor Mr. Nicholls's regard. Having
ventured on Whit Sunday to stop the sacrament, I got a lesson not to
be repeated. He struggled, faltered, then lost command over
himself--stood before my eyes and in the sight of all the
communicants white, shaking, voiceless. Papa was not there, thank
God! Joseph Redman spoke some words to him. He made a great effort,
but could only with difficulty whisper and falter through the
service. I suppose he thought this would be the last time; he goes
either this week or the next. I heard the women sobbing round, and I
could not quite check my own tears. What had happened was reported
to papa either by Joseph Redman or John Brown; it excited only anger,
and such expressions as "unmanly driveller." Compassion or relenting
is no more to be looked for than sap from firewood.

'I never saw a battle more sternly fought with the feelings than Mr.
Nicholls fights with his, and when he yields momentarily, you are
almost sickened by the sense of the strain upon him. However, he is
to go, and I cannot speak to him or look at him or comfort him a
whit, and I must submit. Providence is over all, that is the only
consolation.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_May_ 19_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I cannot help feeling a certain satisfaction in finding
that the people here are getting up a subscription to offer a
testimonial of respect to Mr. Nicholls on his leaving the place.
Many are expressing both their commiseration and esteem for him. The
Churchwardens recently put the question to him plainly: Why was he
going? Was it Mr. Bronte's fault or his own? "His own," he
answered. Did he blame Mr. Bronte? "No! he did not: if anybody was
wrong it was himself." Was he willing to go? "No! it gave him great
pain." Yet he is not always right. I must be just. He shows a
curious mixture of honour and obstinacy--feeling and sullenness.
Papa addressed him at the school tea-drinking, with _constrained_
civility, but still with _civility_. He did not reply civilly; he
cut short further words. This sort of treatment offered in public is
what papa never will forget or forgive, it inspires him with a silent
bitterness not to be expressed. I am afraid both are unchristian in
their mutual feelings. Nor do I know which of them is least
accessible to reason or least likely to forgive. It is a dismal
state of things.

'The weather is fine now, dear Nell. We will take these sunny days
as a good omen for your visit to Yarmouth. With kind regards to all
at Brookroyd, and best wishes to yourself,--I am, yours sincerely,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _May_ 27_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--You will want to know about the leave-taking? The
whole matter is but a painful subject, but I must treat it briefly.
The testimonial was presented in a public meeting. Mr. Taylor and
Mr. Grant were there. Papa was not very well and I advised him to
stay away, which he did. As to the last Sunday, it was a cruel
struggle. Mr. Nicholls ought not to have had to take any duty.

'He left Haworth this morning at six o'clock. Yesterday evening he
called to render into papa's hands the deeds of the National School,
and to say good-bye. They were busy cleaning--washing the paint,
etc., in the dining-room, so he did not find me there. I would not
go into the parlour to speak to him in papa's presence. He went out,
thinking he was not to see me; and indeed, till the very last moment,
I thought it best not. But perceiving that he stayed long before
going out at the gate, and remembering his long grief, I took courage
and went out, trembling and miserable. I found him leaning against
the garden door in a paroxysm of anguish, sobbing as women never sob.
Of course I went straight to him. Very few words were interchanged,
those few barely articulate. Several things I should have liked to
ask him were swept entirely from my memory. Poor fellow! But he
wanted such hope and such encouragement as I could not give him.
Still, I trust he must know now that I am not cruelly blind and
indifferent to his constancy and grief. For a few weeks he goes to
the south of England, afterwards he takes a curacy somewhere in
Yorkshire, but I don't know where.

'Papa has been far from strong lately. I dare not mention Mr.
Nicholls's name to him. He speaks of him quietly and without
opprobrium to others, but to me he is implacable on the matter.
However, he is gone--gone, and there's an end of it. I see no chance
of hearing a word about him in future, unless some stray shred of
intelligence comes through Mr. Sowden or some other second-hand
source. In all this it is not I who am to be pitied at all, and of
course nobody pities me. They all think in Haworth that I have
disdainfully refused him. If pity would do Mr. Nicholls any good, he
ought to have, and I believe has it. They may abuse me if they will;
whether they do or not I can't tell.

'Write soon and say how your prospects proceed. I trust they will
daily brighten.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS LAETITIA WHEELWRIGHT

'HAWORTH, _March_ 18_th_, 1854.

'MY DEAR LAETITIA,--I was very glad to see your handwriting again; it
is, I believe, a year since I heard from you. Again and again you
have recurred to my thoughts lately, and I was beginning to have some
sad presages as to the cause of your silence. Your letter happily
does away with all these; it brings, on the whole, good tidings both
of your papa, mamma, your sister, and, last but not least, your dear
respected English self.

'My dear father has borne the severe winter very well, a circumstance
for which I feel the more thankful, as he had many weeks of very
precarious health last summer, following an attack from which he
suffered last June, and which for a few hours deprived him totally of
sight, though neither his mind, speech, nor even his powers of motion
were in the least affected. I can hardly tell you how thankful I
was, dear Laetitia, when, after that dreary and almost despairing
interval of utter darkness, some gleam of daylight became visible to
him once more. I had feared that paralysis had seized the optic
nerve. A sort of mist remained for a long time, and indeed his
vision is not yet perfectly clear, but he can read, write, and walk
about, and he preaches _twice_ every Sunday, the curate only reading
the prayers. _You_ can well understand how earnestly I pray that
sight may be spared him to the end; he so dreads the privation of
blindness. His mind is just as strong and active as ever, and
politics interest him as they do _your_ papa. The Czar, the war, the
alliance between France and England--into all these things he throws
himself heart and soul. They seem to carry him back to his
comparatively young days, and to renew the excitement of the last
great European struggle. Of course, my father's sympathies, and mine
too, are all with justice and Europe against tyranny and Russia.

'Circumstanced as I have been, you will comprehend that I had neither
the leisure nor inclination to go from home much during the past
year. I spent a week with Mrs. Gaskell in the spring, and a
fortnight with some other friends more recently, and that includes
the whole of my visiting since I saw you last. My life is indeed
very uniform and retired, more so than is quite healthful either for
mind or body; yet I feel reason for often renewed feelings of
gratitude in the sort of support which still comes and cheers me from
time to time. My health, though not unbroken, is, I sometimes fancy,
rather stronger on the whole than it was three years ago; headache
and dyspepsia are my worst ailments. Whether I shall come up to town
this season for a few days I do not yet know; but if I do I shall
hope to call in Phillimore Place. With kindest remembrances to your
papa, mamma, and sisters,--I am, dear Laetitia, affectionately yours,

'C. BRONTE.'

Mr. Nicholls's successor did not prove acceptable to Mr. Bronte. He complained again and again, and one day Charlotte turned upon her father and told him pretty frankly that he was alone to blame--that he had only to let her marry Mr. Nicholls, with whom she corresponded and whom she really loved, and all would be well. A little arrangement, the transfer of Mr. Nicholls's successor, Mr. De Renzi, to a Bradford church, and Mr. Nicholls left his curacy at Kirk-Smeaton and returned once more to Haworth as an accepted lover.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _March_ 28_th_, 1854.

'MY DEAR ELLEN,--The inclosure in yours of yesterday puzzled me at
first, for I did not immediately recognise my own hand-writing; when
I did, the sensation was one of consternation and vexation, as the
letter ought by all means to have gone on Friday. It was intended to
relieve him of great anxiety. However, I trust he will get it
to-day; and on the whole, when I think it over, I can only be
thankful that the mistake was no worse, and did not throw the letter
into the hands of some indifferent and unscrupulous person. I wrote
it after some days of indisposition and uneasiness, and when I felt
weak and unfit to write. While writing to him, I was at the same
time intending to answer your note, which I suppose accounts for the
confusion of ideas, shown in the mixed and blundering address.

'I wish you could come about Easter rather than at another time, for
this reason: Mr. Nicholls, if not prevented, proposes coming over
then. I suppose he will stay at Mr. Grant's, as he has done two or
three times before, but he will be frequently coming here, which
would enliven your visit a little. Perhaps, too, he might take a
walk with us occasionally. Altogether it would be a little change,
such as, you know, I could not always offer.

'If all be well he will come under different circumstances to any
that have attended his visits before; were it otherwise, I should not
ask you to meet him, for when aspects are gloomy and unpropitious,
the fewer there are to suffer from the cloud the better.

'He was here in January and was then received, but not pleasantly. I
trust it will be a little different now.

'Papa breakfasts in bed and has not yet risen; his bronchitis is
still troublesome. I had a bad week last week, but am greatly better
now, for my mind is a little relieved, though very sedate, and rising
only to expectations the most moderate.

'Sometime, perhaps in May, I may hope to come to Brookroyd, but, as
you will understand from what I have now stated, I could not come
before.

'Think it over, dear Nell, and come to Haworth if you can. Write as
soon as you can decide.--Yours affectionately,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_April_ 1_st_, 1854.

'MY DEAR ELLEN,--You certainly were right in your second
interpretation of my note. I am too well aware of the dulness of
Haworth for any visitor, not to be glad to avail myself of the chance
of offering even a slight change. But this morning my little plans
have been disarranged by an intimation that Mr. Nicholls is coming on
Monday. I thought to put him off, but have not succeeded. As Easter
now consequently seems an unfavourable period both from your point of
view and mine, we will adjourn it till a better opportunity offers.
Meantime, I thank you, dear Ellen, for your kind offer to come in
case I wanted you. Papa is still very far from well: his cough very
troublesome, and a good deal of inflammatory action in the chest.
To-day he seems somewhat better than yesterday, and I earnestly hope
the improvement may continue.

'With kind regards to your mother and all at Brookroyd,--I am, dear
Ellen, yours affectionately,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _April_ 11_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Thank you for the collar; it is very pretty, and I will
wear it for the sake of her who made and gave it.

'Mr. Nicholls came on Monday, and was here all last week. Matters
have progressed thus since July. He renewed his visit in September,
but then matters so fell out that I saw little of him. He continued
to write. The correspondence pressed on my mind. I grew very
miserable in keeping it from papa. At last sheer pain made me gather
courage to break it. I told all. It was very hard and rough work at
the time, but the issue after a few days was that I obtained leave to
continue the communication. Mr. Nicholls came in January; he was ten
days in the neighbourhood. I saw much of him. I had stipulated with
papa for opportunity to become better acquainted. I had it, and all
I learnt inclined me to esteem and affection. Still papa was very,
very hostile, bitterly unjust.

'I told Mr. Nicholls the great obstacle that lay in his way. He has
persevered. The result of this, his last visit, is, that papa's
consent is gained, that his respect, I believe, is won, for Mr.
Nicholls has in all things proved himself disinterested and
forbearing. Certainly, I must respect him, nor can I withhold from
him more than mere cool respect. In fact, dear Ellen, I am engaged.

'Mr. Nicholls, in the course of a few months, will return to the
curacy of Haworth. I stipulated that I would not leave papa; and to
papa himself I proposed a plan of residence which should maintain his
seclusion and convenience uninvaded, and in a pecuniary sense bring
him gain instead of loss. What seemed at one time impossible is now
arranged, and papa begins really to take a pleasure in the prospect.

'For myself, dear Ellen, while thankful to One who seems to have
guided me through much difficulty, much and deep distress and
perplexity of mind, I am still very calm, very inexpectant. What I
taste of happiness is of the soberest order. I trust to love my
husband. I am grateful for his tender love to me. I believe him to
be an affectionate, a conscientious, a high-principled man; and if,
with all this, I should yield to regrets that fine talents, congenial
tastes and thoughts are not added, it seems to me I should be most
presumptuous and thankless.

'Providence offers me this destiny. Doubtless, then, it is the best
for me. Nor do I shrink from wishing those dear to me one not less
happy.

'It is possible that our marriage may take place in the course of the
summer. Mr. Nicholls wishes it to be in July. He spoke of you with
great kindness, and said he hoped you would be at our wedding. I
said I thought of having no other bridesmaid. Did I say rightly? I
mean the marriage to be literally as quiet as possible.

'Do not mention these things just yet. I mean to write to Miss
Wooler shortly. Good-bye. There is a strange half-sad feeling in
making these announcements. The whole thing is something other than
imagination paints it beforehand; cares, fears, come mixed
inextricably with hopes. I trust yet to talk the matter over with
you. Often last week I wished for your presence and said so to Mr.
Nicholls--Arthur, as I now call him, but he said it was the only time
and place when he could not have wished to see you. Good-bye.--Yours
affectionately,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_April_ 15_th_, 1854.

'MY OWN DEAR NELL,--I hope to see you somewhere about the second week
in May.

'The Manchester visit is still hanging over my head. I have deferred
it, and deferred it, but have finally promised to go about the
beginning of next month. I shall only stay three days, then I spend
two or three days at Hunsworth, then come to Brookroyd. The three
visits must be compressed into the space of a fortnight, if possible.

'I suppose I shall have to go to Leeds. My purchases cannot be
either expensive or extensive. You must just resolve in your head
the bonnets and dresses; something that can be turned to decent use
and worn after the wedding-day will be best, I think.

'I wrote immediately to Miss Wooler and received a truly kind letter
from her this morning. If you think she would like to come to the
marriage I will not fail to ask her.

'Papa's mind seems wholly changed about the matter, and he has said
both to me and when I was not there, how much happier he feels since
he allowed all to be settled. It is a wonderful relief for me to
hear him treat the thing rationally, to talk over with him themes on
which once I dared not touch. He is rather anxious things should get
forward now, and takes quite an interest in the arrangement of
preliminaries. His health improves daily, though this east wind
still keeps up a slight irritation in the throat and chest.

'The feeling which had been disappointed in papa was ambition,
paternal pride--ever a restless feeling, as we all know. Now that
this unquiet spirit is exorcised, justice, which was once quite
forgotten, is once more listened to, and affection, I hope, resumes
some power.

'My hope is that in the end this arrangement will turn out more truly
to papa's advantage than any other it was in my power to achieve.
Mr. Nicholls in his last letter refers touchingly to his earnest
desire to prove his gratitude to papa, by offering support and
consolation to his declining age. This will not be mere talk with
him--he is no talker, no dealer in professions.--Yours
affectionately,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_April_ 28_th_, 1854.

'MY DEAR ELLEN,--I have delayed writing till I could give you some
clear notion of my movements. If all be well, I go to Manchester on
the 1st of May. Thence, on Thursday, to Hunsworth till Monday, when
(D.V.) I come to Brookroyd. I must be at home by the close of the
week. Papa, thank God! continues to improve much. He preached twice
on Sunday and again on Wednesday, and was not tired; his mind and
mood are different to what they were, so much more cheerful and
quiet. I trust the illusions of ambition are quite dissipated, and
that he really sees it is better to relieve a suffering and faithful
heart, to secure its fidelity, a solid good, than unfeelingly to
abandon one who is truly attached to his interest as well as mine,
and pursue some vain empty shadow.

'I thank you, dear Ellen, for your kind invitation to Mr. Nicholls.
He was asked likewise to Manchester and Hunsworth. I would not have
opposed his coming had there been no real obstacle to the
arrangement--certain little awkwardnesses of feeling I would have
tried to get over for the sake of introducing him to old friends; but
it so happens that he cannot leave on account of his rector's
absence. Mr. C. will be in town with his family till June, and he
always stipulates that his curate shall remain at Kirk-Smeaton while
he is away.

'How did you get on at the Oratorio? And what did Miss Wooler say to
the proposal of being at the wedding? I have many points to discuss
when I see you. I hope your mother and all are well. With kind
remembrances to them, and true love to you,--I am, dear Nell,
faithfully yours,

'C. BRONTE.

'When you write, address me at Mrs. Gaskell's, Plymouth Grove,
Manchester.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_May_ 22_nd_, 1854.