A new blog-post for a New Year —— starting as I mean to go on. . .
The sisterly hand responsible for this very personalised portrait of Emily Brontë —— ingeniiously added a foolproof ‘watermark’; disguised from left to right as folds in the sitter’s cloak —— the wearer is boldly identified as “E M I L Y”. . .
Whilst traces of the artist’s signature in the bottom right-hand corner of the original portrait are faded with age and are only just visible to the naked-eye still —— the inner lines of “E M I L Y” remain bold.
In this sense, the identity of the sitter is ineradicable; “E M I L Y” the name —— couldn’t be anymore permanent than if it had been carved in an Oak casement at ‘Wuthering Heights’!
This blog-post is about the etymology of a portrait, namely the ‘lost’ portrait of Emily Brontë, drawn by her sister, Charlotte; such a pencil portrait is known to have existed but it was lost in 1880. Although the drawing in question doesn’t have provenance in the form of documentation, the artist responsible left several clues to trace the portrait’s roots back to Haworth —— to the hand of Charlotte Brontë.
Despite the portrait’s determined cries of “Let me in——let me in!” —— the Brontë Establishment go on ring-fencing the wrong ‘lost’ portrait of ‘Emily’; namely Branwell’s portrait of ‘Emily’ in the National Collection —— that is evidently a portrait of Anne Brontë! The situation is very unfair to the memory of Anne Brontë —— as well as the real ‘lost’ portrait of “E M I L Y”.
Truth be told, Charlotte’s ‘lost’ pencil portrait of Emily went missing in 1880, and was given up as irrevocably lost. . .
All too eagerly and without a shred of evidence against the portrait ‘type’ —— The Brontë Establishment cast ‘The Bonnet Portrait of Emily Brontë’ out into the cold where it has remained unloved for more than one-hundred years. Imagine their disquiet —— when ‘The Bonnet Portrait of Emily Brontë’ in Charlotte’s original format —— came back to haunt them in 2016!!!
Because of the wrong ‘lost’ portrait of ‘Emily Brontë’ in the National Collection —— the Brontë Establishment keep as quiet as the proverbial grave in order to keep a lid on their historic mistake. That said, I often get a feeling that a certain unquiet sleeper beneath St Michael and All Angels in Haworth, knows full well that her precious ‘lost’ portrait of her sister, Emily —— came home on Monday, 15th April 2019 —— but was turned back. I tell you, it’s Charlotte who won’t let this matter rest!
Certainly where the real ‘lost’ portrait of Emily Brontë is concerned —— the etymology of ‘Haworth’ is very apt; it’s my experience that The Brontë Parsonage Museum in Haworth has proved virtually impenetrable! But where there is a will (let alone a The Truth!) there is surely another way. . .
And exactly what is my role in this modern-day fairytale? —— I’m curator/narrator/blogger of the real ‘lost’ portrait of Emily Brontë‘. . .
The Brontë Establishment would happily have the portrait ‘type’ (‘The Bonnet Portrait of Emily Brontë’) banished for good. They’re not concerned if “E M I L Y” goes back to sleep for another hundred years —— but not if I —— or Charlotte —— or the Truth have owt to do with it! Why can’t they (The Brontë Establishment) see that they’re the ones who have been asleep for more than a century with their eyes wide shut! It’s my considered opinion that it’s a dereliction of duty by those ‘concerned’.
To date, The Bronte Establishment have taken a very dim view of my ‘Bonnet’ findings.
“In July, 1879, I paid a visit to Haworth, and had an interesting interview with Martha Brown, the faithful servant who nursed all the Brontës, and saw them all die. She possessed many relics of the famous sisters, which had been given her by Mr. Brontë… Martha Brown possessed a very clearly and boldly drawn pencil sketch of Emily by Charlotte, which I in vain endeavoured to purchase. After her death, what she left was divided among four sisters, with all of whom I communicated without succeeding even in tracing the picture.”Sir William Robertson Nicoll, (The Bookman, vol. 1, p.63)
My first real clue to identifying Charlotte Brontë’s ‘lost’ portrait of “E M I L Y” came from the trees; seeing was literally believing. Photographic evidence taken on Saturday, 26th. November 2016. . .
Home was definitely where Emily Brontë’s heart was ——but her spirit thrived in’t back-yard so to speak! As Charlotte put it —— her sister was “a native and nursling of the moors”.
The eternal Moors gave rise to Emily’s imagination —— and to her only novel, ‘Wuthering Heights’. . .
If “Liberty” was Emily Jane Brontë’s ‘second name’ —— “Perseverance” is mine. . .
I will not give up on “E M I L Y” because I know that the drawing is genuine.
The origin —— the etymology of Charlotte’s ‘lost’ pencil portrait of her sister, “E M I L Y” —— can be linked back to an 18th Century engraving boldly called, “WOOD-NYMPH”. . .
When Charlotte prefaced the second edition of ‘Wuthering Heights’ in 1850, she tellingly wrote this about the Nature-loving author:
“Had she but lived, her mind would of itself have grown like a strong tree, loftier, straighter, wider—spreading, and its matured fruits would have attained a mellower ripeness and sunnier bloom. . .”
And let’s not forget —— ‘Wuthering Heights’ is woven around a Family Tree! One can’t escape the tree connections. . .
“This time, I remembered I was lying in the oak closet, and I heard distinctly the gusty wind, and the driving of the snow; I heard, also, the fir bough repeat its teasing sound, and ascribed it to the right cause: but it annoyed me so much, that I resolved to silence it, if possible; and, I thought, I rose and endeavoured to unhasp the casement. The hook was soldered into the staple: a circumstance observed by me when awake, but forgotten. “I must stop it, nevertheless!” I muttered, knocking my knuckles through the glass, and stretching an arm out to seize the importunate branch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the fingers of a little, ice-cold hand!” —— Chapter III ‘Wuthering Heights’
In Classical Mythology there is a particular branch of tree-spirits called ‘Hamadryads’. . .
A ‘Hamadryad’ is a type of Dryad or Wood-Nymph that’s physically part of her tree —— if her tree withers and dies —— or is felled —— she dies too; it could be argued that Emily Brontë was the same. Emily was so deep-rooted in her habitat that she pined whenever she was physically torn from it; if one needed proof that such a being existed in human form —— it must surely be, Emily Brontë! The etymology of ‘dryad’ comes from Old French ‘driade’ meaning ‘wood nymph or tree spirit’ —— the ‘dry’ in dryad comes from the Greek word ‘Oak’.
Emily Bronte’s life was mercilessly cut short by Pulmonary tuberculosis on Tuesday, 19th. December 1848 —— aged only 30. Just six days later —— Charlotte wrote this about the unforgiving nature of Emily’s passing. . .
“So I will not now ask why Emily was torn from us in the fullness of our attachment, rooted up in the prime of her own days, in the promise of her powers; why her existence now lies like a field of green corn trodden down, like a tree in full bearing struck at the root.” —— Charlotte Brontë in a letter to W.S. William of ‘Smith, Elder & Co.’ —— 25th December, 1848.
Even in a raw state of grief —— Charlotte Brontë described Emily as “a tree in full bearing struck down at the root”. So it reasonably follows that Charlotte’s wellspring for a small, personalised portrait of “E M I L Y” has its roots in an engraving called “WOOD-NYMPH”. . .
“WOOD-NYMPH” was published in 1787 after an original painting by royal academician, Samuel Woodforde (1763 —— 1817). . .
Bear in mind too, that the retrospective plot of ‘Wuthering Heights’ is set in the same time frame as Samuel Woodforde’s “WOOD-NYMPH” —— or thereabouts; the engraving was published, in “1787”. . .The engravings metamorphosis from “WOOD-NYMPH” into “E M I L Y” —— has not only captured the outdoorsy, Nature-loving spirit of Emily Brontë —— but is also echoic of ‘Wuthering Heights’. . .
I continue to challenge the Brontë Establishment’s opinion of “E M I L Y” because they harbour a preconceived mindset of the portrait ‘type’ that is out-of-date by at least a hundred years! As an atypical Brontë scholar, I’m not the best read in terms of Brontë Literature but I’m very skilled at reading between the lines of Charlotte Brontë’s Art —— due to the fact that I’m in a rare and privileged position to study every minuscule detail at first hand. . .
If the Brontë Establishment had the grace to admit that Branwell’s portrait of ‘Emily’ in The National Collection is in fact a portrait of Anne Brontë —— Charlotte’s pencil version of the ‘Bonnet Portrait of Emily Brontë’ could be seen in its true light; it is surely the ‘lost’ portrait seen by Sir William Robertson Nicoll in 1879.
It’s official! —— a librarian’s strike-through in this 1927 catalogue, strikes home just how long overdue an official review of the portrait(s) is. . .
Subject wise, “Woman in Leopard Fur” by Charlotte Brontë is also derived from Classical Mythology. . .
‘The Art of the Brontës’ doesn’t give any information at all about the original source of Charlotte’s ‘Woman In Leopard Fur’. In other words, I didn’t read that Charlotte’s ‘Woman In Leopard Fur’ is a copy of an engraving by Edward Smith after James Northcote; as the “Library Angels” would have it, I came across Charlotte’s source last year. . .
I wonder if Charlotte’s ‘Woman In Leopard Fur’ was the seed-thought for Bertha Mason, the madwoman in the attic in ‘Jane Eyre’? As crazy as this may first sound, it isn’t. The ‘Woman in Leopard Fur’ is a ‘Maenad’ —— her free-flowing hair and Leopard-skin are the giveaway clues to her identity. In Greek mythology, Maenads are the female groupies of Dionysus —— god of wine and ecstasy! The etymology of ‘Maenad’ literally means ‘raving one’ or ‘madwoman’.
Discovering Charlotte’s source for ‘Woman in Leopard Fur’ shows that Charlotte expressed more than a passing interest in Classical Mythology. . .
‘Dyradology’ is the study of Tree-Spirits —— and is probably a made-up word for the sole purpose of this blog-post —— but the rest is all totally factual. . .
To recap, Charlotte’s portrait of “E M I L Y” is based on an 18th century engraving titled “WOOD-NYMPH” —— engraved by John Raphael Smith after an original oil painting by Samuel Woodforde R.A.. “Wood-Nymph” is another name for a ‘Dryad’ or ‘Tree-Spirit’. . .Like grain through wood —— the identity of the sitter is ingrained from left to right; “E M I L Y” it says in five, bold pencil strokes. . .
In the same vein that Charlotte’s novels are semi-autobiographical —— “E M I L Y” is figuratively drawn from life. . .
Charlotte wove a whole chapter around a “Dryad” in ‘Villette’ —— her last novel published in 1853. . .
Charlotte’s “Dryad” turns out to be the restless soul of a nun, who in breach of her vows was incarcerated alive in a vault beneath an ancient fruit-bearing tree. The veiled figure is most likely a figment of the author’s imagination as well as Lucy Snowe’s —— the novel’s main protagonist —— but “The Methuselah of a pear-tree” existed. Charlotte’s inspiration for “The Dryad” has roots that were firmly planted in her reality —— from her time studying at the Pensionnat Héger in Brussels where she and Emily studied from 1842-1843.
Owing to the fact that I spend a disproportionate amount of time gleaning the Art of the Brontës rather than reading all of Charlotte’s four novels —— I realise in hindsight why I failed to connect the links between Charlotte’s obvious interest in ‘Dryadology’ —— and “E M I L Y” the drawing. It’s all because I hadn’t read ‘Villette’ —— mea culpa!!! That said, what I lack in studiousness —— I more than make up for in intuitiveness. . .
My interest in ‘Villette’ was ignited by a scroll-stopping photograph I recently saw on eBay for a copy of ‘Villettë’ —— costing £4.20 no less! —— plus free postage and packing. Divine providence I call that! In terms of clarity, the seller’s image didn’t sell the book to me because it didn’t show anything, as in the book’s age or condition. This is the bookseller’s image; it was the ‘lightsaber’ that sold “Villette” to me. . .
I didn’t even need another edition of ‘Villette’ as I already had a perfectly readable one —— albeit unread!!! But I felt like something or someone had tapped me on my shoulder again and whispered, “Buy It Now”. . .
Held in my own hand, my first impression was that “Villette” looked small and plain —— and dare I say it, disappointingly ordinary! For starters, I’d anticipated it to be black like a small, antique Bible but in reality it is a dull sage-green. Inside the front cover there is a little magick ‘square’ of provenance —— in the form of the original bookseller’s ticket, “R. R. Balfour” of Montrose, Scotland. . .
Hastily, I ran my finger down the contents page(s) looking for something significant to leap out at me —— it was then that I experienced my own lightsaber moment, circled. . .
It’s a scene that’s all too familiar in ‘The Bonnet’ book too. . .
Charlotte’s source for her portrait of “E M I L Y” —— was published in 1787. Objectively speaking, this means that a hand-coloured stipple engraving of Samuel Woodforde’s original painting called, “WOOD-NYMPH” was reproduced in print in 1787 —— and was in circulation for twenty-nine years before Charlotte Brontë was even born! Add to that, the engraver was “the most celebrated engraver of the period” —— John Raphael Smith. Be certain to click the link to see who’s words these are about John Raphael Smith (1751-1812). . .
Because Charlotte Brontë was an appreciator and a meticulous copier of 18th and early 19th century engravings —— it’s logical that Charlotte singled out the exact lines and stipples of the Georgian Era’s “most celebrated engraver”. Before Charlotte turned to writing as a way of earning her living —— her intention was to be an artist; Charlotte honed her skill by meticulously copying engravings. Pencil was Charlotte’s most favoured medium, indeed it was her forte! It’s imperative to read the following quote from Mrs Gaskell —— in order that one gets a proper grasp of Charlotte’s engraving obsession. . .
“It is singular how strong a yearning the whole family had towards the art of drawing. Mr. Bronte had been very solicitous to get them good instruction; the girls themselves loved everything connected with it —— all descriptions or engravings of great pictures; and, in default of good ones, they would take and analyse any print or drawing which came in their way, and find out how much thought had gone to its composition, what ideas it was intended to suggest, and what it DID suggest. In the same spirit, they laboured to design imaginations of their own; they lacked the power of execution, not of conception. At one time, Charlotte had the notion of making her living as an artist, and wearied her eyes in drawing with pre-Raphaelite minuteness, but not with pre-Raphaelite accuracy, for she drew from fancy rather than from nature.” —— from Elizabeth Gaskell’s ‘The Life of Charlotte Brontë’.
For all Charlotte’s so-called meticulousness —— she often made alterations in order to make the subject matter her own; her portrait of “E M I L Y” after John Raphael Smith’s “WOOD-NYMPH” is a shining example of this.
An incidental observation I made during my searches of “Samuel Woodforde” is that the artist’s father’s christian name was, “Heighes”; an unusual name —— from the Anglo-Saxon meaning ‘high’. At first sight, the name ‘Heighes’ in print —— conjured up thoughts of Emily Bronte’s ‘Wuthering Heights’.
The Bonnet Collection’s own centuries-old, hand-coloured engraving of “WOOD-NYMPH” —— brought into sharper focus. . .
And let us remind ourselves of Charlotte’s words again, following Emily’s passing. . .
“So I will not now ask why Emily was torn from us in the fullness of our attachment, rooted up in the prime of her own days, in the promise of her powers; why her existence now lies like a field of green corn trodden down, like a tree in full bearing struck at the root.” —— Charlotte Brontë in a letter to W.S. William of ‘Smith, Elder & Co.’ —— 25th December, 1848.
It’s a great shame that the Brontë Establishment can’t grasp my arguments for “The Bonnet Portrait of Emily Brontë” —— and that they claim they can’t even perceive the visual clues that Charlotte worked into her pencil drawings, including at least two drawings that are right under their noses in the official collection in Haworth. Because of this, it’s imperative to reference two of my previous fact-finding missions, links at the foot of this post —— that expose Charlotte’s secret ‘WordArt’ for what it is; they’re the facts as I literally see them before me. . .
My research has to be understood objectively, not subjectively —— because the drawing is totally verifiable. If science could be implemented like that seen on the BBC’s [Fake or Fortune?] —— my findings would all make perfect sense because Charlotte’s minuscule details that are in the portrait itself would be revealed —— let alone a possible signature and date. . .
I sensed very early on that the key to “E M I L Y” is in the trees. . .
For fear of lightning striking twice, I left extricating “Lady with Bonnet” for at least another day!
Knowing what I now know about “E M I L Y” —— I realise trees in some shape, form or other have been key to discovering the drawing’s ‘lost’ identity. Trees and the drawing that I identify as “E M I L Y” are intrinsically linked; they’re the same.
Disappointingly, the Brontë Establishment remain indifferent to “E M I L Y” —— and I can’t explain beyond this blog-post, just how I know that the drawing is Charlotte’s ‘lost’ portrait of her sister, “E M I L Y”.
I mean, it’s not easy to put into words that trees told me so! —— but science could prove I’m right about “E M I L Y”.
I can only describe watching Frances O’Connor’s new biopic ‘Emily’ as a blast of fresh moorland air! In the literary world of the Brontës, that’s mostly ruled by stuffed shirts —— Emily’s on-screen passion with assistant curate, William Weightman —— is no doubt viewed by some as heretical but I loved the movie!
In the quiet of my own home, with only the drawing I identify as “E M I L Y” in the next room for company, I found the final scene when Charlotte looks to the trees more affecting than the mask scene. This is the beautiful soundtrack composed by Abel Korzeniowski that accompanies the final scene of the film, and it’s pertinently called, “The Autumn Tree”. . .
http://somethingaboutdartmoor.com/2020/05/02/spelling-it-out-the-art-of-steganography-in-the-art-of-charlotte-bronte/
http://somethingaboutdartmoor.com/2022/05/17/the-lost-portrait-of-emily-bronte-charlottes-name-game-uncovered/