I’ve felt strangely drawn towards this Infra-red photo-fit of Branwell Brontë’s “obliterated figure” —— since it arrived through my door in November. . . 

Branwell’s ghostly figure is enfolded in a souvenir 1984 fold-out poster from The National Portrait Gallery —— that features ‘THE BRONTE PORTRAITS’ in the National Collection —— although I bought it secondhand online – on Sunday, 1st November, 2020.

The following is a blog-post about two follow-on finds —— nay Three, that includes a heavy, blue tome titled ‘Napoleon’ by Emil Ludwig, complete with these rather pertinent words forwarded by a previous keeper. . .

“No shadow falls but there behind it stands the light, Behind the wrongs and sorrows of life’s troublous ways stands right.”. . .

Whilst at work ♻️ —— Wednesday, 9th. December 2020, I miraculously found a picture of the very ‘template’ I was ‘looking’ for —— in relation to a newly discovered pencil portrait on card. . . Opposite page 100 — there’s a famous unfinished portrait of Napoleon Bonaparte by Jacques-Louis David. . .  On page 220 in ‘The Art of The Brontës’ by Christine Alexander and Jane Sellars — there’s another unfinished portrait titled: 105 ‘Alexander Percy’ — who was Branwell Brontë’s fictional alter ego. . . When Revd. Patrick Brontë famously brought home a box of toy soldiers for Branwell —— Branwell chose ‘Bonaparte’! ‘Boney’ for short. Charlotte chose ‘Wellington’! By comparing the two portraits — I think it’s reasonable to speculate that Charlotte Brontë must have seen a reproduction of the ‘Unfinished Portrait of Napoleon Bonaparte’ printed in a magazine or book — and that it inspired her unfinished watercolour of ‘Alexander Percy’; for this reason, I think Charlotte deliberately left hers unfinished too. Turning to the pencil portrait in question — I also think that the subject’s pose is derived from Jacques-Louis David’s ‘Unfinished Portrait of Napoleon Bonaparte’. . .

Although sporting impressive, manly sideburns —— the fizzog on the right (or maybe that should be ‘frizzogg’!) —— could be described as baby-faced when compared to Napoleon Bonaparte’s demeanour. It’s a portrait of a young man minus his spectacles —— whose military prowess and leadership was acted out in the realms of imagination only. . . The pencil drawing in question — is very much in the style of Charlotte’s pencil portrait of William Weightman.📚

The Brontës were heavily influenced by all things Scottish 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 —— so it’s not surprising that this bonny ‘Highlander’ wears a plaid over his shoulder. Traditionally, a plaid is worn over the wearer’s left shoulder — which is another pointer that this portrait was drawn by a non-Scottish hand! Although I think that it’s a deliberate mistake that can be put down to artistic license; as in it’s all about the placing of the left arm —— à la Jacque-Louis David’s ‘Unfinished Portrait’!

It’s a show of the young man’s allegiance to Bonaparte —— whilst the drawing’s Scottish vibe is surely a nod to the artist’s —— and sitter’s —— Scottish Literary Greats; Sir Walter Scott, Rabbie Burns ‘The Bard of Ayrshire’, James Hogg —— and not forgetting William Blackwood whose publications inspired the Brontës to create their own miniature versions of ‘Blackwood’s Magazine’. . .  

The drawing is signed “C BRONTË” — and there is also a date “1835” above the signature…

I’m certain too that the ‘markings’ on his sash are yet another example of Charlotte Brontë’s steganographic style. . .

Spells ‘GENII’. 

The oblique ‘shapes’ of ‘G.E.N.I.I.’ —— can be seen again in a portrait of Queen Victoria after a portrait by Sir William Ross in the Royal Collection Trust. . .The young Brontës —— or four ‘Genii’, Brannii (Branwell), Tallii (Charlotte), Emmii (Emily), and Annii (Anne) —— were huge fans of Queen Victoria; even naming a pet goose ‘Victoria’ in her honour —— such was their adoration! Its pair was ‘Adelaide’ after Queen Victoria’s much loved Aunt. However, it was only Charlotte that snatched a fleeting glimpse of the Queen for real; when their paths crossed on the ‘Rue Royale’, in 1843. Charlotte was in her second year at the Pensionnat Héger in Brussels – whist the Queen was visiting her beloved Uncle, King Leopold I of Belgium.

However fleetingly the Queen sped by Charlotte in her “carriage and six” – it’s become empirically evident to me —— that young Victoria made a lasting impression on Charlotte. Charlotte was the Queen’s senior by three years; Charlotte was born in April 1816 —— and Victoria in May 1819. We know that Charlotte wrote home to Emily about seeing the Queen —— so it figures that Charlotte created her own image of a real Queen of a real Empire and made her subject an ‘Honorary Genii’; ‘Reginnii’ perhaps? —— as in ‘Regina’ Latin for ‘Queen’. . .   Moving as swiftly on as the Queen’s “carriage and six” —— to ‘The art of Stonemasonry’ — and an interesting sketch in pen and ink ✍🏻 —— of an older-looking, more whiskery, geometric-shaped man with a Parsonage for a nose!👃🏻When I say a ‘Parsonage for a nose’ —— I mean aerially speaking; as per the Brontë Parsonage in the days of the Brontës — when there was only the main gabled roof plus a smaller gabled extension at the rear. To illustrate my point, I’ve improvised with what I have to hand —— my ‘Tey Pottery’ Parsonage! The straight green dividing line demarcates the original structure from the later extension built on in 1878 represented by the green squiggly line. . .Obviously, one needs to bear in mind the anatomy of a human nose in the context of a portrait, but there is something undeniably architectural about the shape and shading of Octagon Man’s nose; it’s a focal point(s) amongst many!!! 

Speaking on olfactory lines — I find it curious how ‘Octagon Man’ has exactly the same sweet essence as the ‘Bonnet(s)’ do —— and ‘Queen Victoria’ for that matter! They all possess a certain sensory something —— a smell —— that’s akin to being inside an old church; it’s a smell of sleeping dust and beeswax with a faint whiff of Frankincense. . .

‘Octagon Man’ looks to be sketched on top of another’s meticulous handiwork — that’s all beautifully penned in French.🇫🇷

Verso —— there are multiple rulered columns of ‘unequateable’ numbers — some underscored. . .Q: What do they all add up to?🤔

A: Someone clearly interested in architecture I’d say, a stonemason perhaps?⚒ — even a Freemason?🏛 Note the pediment hovering above his head — and those two columnar legs supporting his body. . .The Octagon is a symbol of resurrection; see the rays! And is that the semblance of a ‘Croix de Lorraine’ above the pediment? symbol of the Knights Templar, an organisation in Freemasonry. . .

I’ve got more than a sneaking suspicion I know the exact name of the individual that doodled this temple of self-expression —— simply because it’s ‘scribbled’ in his tash!

So Charlotte clearly wasn’t the only ‘Steganographer’ in the family; be certain to follow my link!

Finally to round-up, I shall return to The National Portrait Gallery’s fold-out poster that seemed to be the touchpaper for my latest findings. As a simple, old-fashioned cut and ‘paste’ experiment – I laid the faces of the portraits that I believe to be genuine ‘lost’ Brontë portraits of the three Sisters – over Branwell’s ‘Pillar Portrait’. It seemed like a good way of constructively utilising the poster; although my intention was not to cover up the joins. I wanted the portraits to be seen as a simple honest experiment rather than an exercise in deceptive photoshopping. When one is up against the Establishment and a hundred years plus — of entrenched misattribution against the ‘Bonnet Portrait’ of Emily Brontë by Charlotte — that’s for no proven reason other than prejudice and dislike — one has to get creative!!!✂️

This is the result of my original scissor-cutting experiment; no originals were harmed in the process —— and neither was my ‘inspiration’ —— the NPG poster!

“Super work!!! Such a shame no Branwell…They really do look at home on the pillar portrait, you can tell it is the same people.” remarked EmilyInGondal over on my Instagram page —— on Tuesday, 10th. November 2020.

In this instance, my Branwellesque discoveries came like buses —— because all Three metaphorically arrived together this December —— and we’re still only midway through the month! If one counts the quartered ‘touchpaper’ —— it’s Four ‘buses’!

I wonder where the National Portrait Gallery’s poster has been since 1984? Perhaps it was left folded on top of someone’s wardrobe —— just like the real painting. . .Again, I’m remembering those pertinent words on the bookplate in Emil Ludwig’s ‘Napoleon’. . .

“No shadow falls but there behind it stands the light, Behind the wrongs and sorrows of life’s troublous ways stands right.” . . .

There’s something doubly uncanny about these likenesses.