I have just received a copy of Patrick Bronte: Father of Genius by Dudley Green. This is the first biography of Patrick for over forty years which is a lowering thought, as it was reading that biography all those years ago which started me off on my Bronte obsession. What with discovering on Sunday that I had attended a production of Don Carlos fifty years ago, I am beginning to feel somewhat fragile and am thinking of purchasing my zimmer frame as the time for it cannot be that far away...
Flipping through the pages at my desk, always a dangerous thing to do when work is calling, I came across a letter to the Bishop of Ripon, previously undiscovered, sent by Patrick after Charlotte's death, which I found so sorrowful and moving and decided to post it here so you can all read it:
".........If a season of sorrow needs a word of consolation and support, ours is that season. I have lived long enough to bury a beloved Wife and six children - all that I had - I greatly enjoyed their conversation and company.........now they are all gone, their image and memory remain and meet me at every turn, but they, themselves have left me, a bereaved Old Man and I hop'd and wish'd that the Lord would spare them to see me laid in my grave, but the Lord has ordered it otherwise....I have not only my great sorrow to bear but I am distress'd for Mr Nicholls whose grief is very great, his union with my daughter was a happy one - they were well fitted for each other and naturally looked forward to future scenes of happiness for a long time to come, but the Lord give and the Lord took early away. May we both be able from our hearts to say blessed be the name of the Lord but I have often found, and find in this last sad trial, that it is frequently extremely difficult to walk entirely by faith and sincerely to pray 'Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven'....Mr Nicholls, who is everything I could desire, to the Church and to me, intends to stay with me during the brief remainder of my life. May we beg that your Lordship, will sometimes remember us in your prayers..."
My eyes welled up on reading this and I hope that the Bishop did remember them both in his prayers. Arthur Nicholls was a true and faithful son to Patrick and did, indeed, keep him company until his death. Imagine the sorrow of these two men in the loneliness of the Parsonage at Haworth.
Almost too much to bear. I am looking forward to reading this book immensely and to reacquainting myself with Haworth when I visit in September.