A post about when the ‘Wolf’ in Charlotte Bronte’s ‘Jane Eyre’ met ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ – dedicated to another ‘Emily’ – a wee Scots lassie called, Emily Anderson – also a clergyman’s daughter. . .
‘Emily Anderson’. Detail from an engraving by Timothy Stansfeld Engleheart – after Sir Thomas Lawrence’s original painting of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’.
Engleheart’s engraving of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ provided the frontispiece in ‘The New Year’s Gift and Juvenile Souvenir.’ – for the year, 1832. . .
In 2013, a small watercolour painting of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ – after Sir Thomas Lawrence’s portrait of Emily Anderson – sparked in me – what has become, a fervent interest in ‘The Art of the Brontës’. Six years on – ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ wraps up all my other Brontë inspired posts so that I can draw a line under the lot; I have nothing more beyond the last word – of the 2251 words in this post, I can add. . .
Facially, almost certainly a portrait of Anne Brontë by her sister, Charlotte Brontë… “Her hair was a very pretty light brown, and fell on her neck in graceful curls. She had lovely violet-blue eyes, fine pencilled eyebrows and a clear almost transparent complexion.” – a description of Anne Bronte by Ellen Nussey – Charlotte’s life-long friend.
Two things are certain – it’s not the face of Emily Anderson, neither is it her hair; in Sir Thomas Lawrence’s original portrait of Emily Anderson (1821) – Emily’s hair is the colour of Ebony. . .
One of Charlotte’s weaknesses… “The body appears to be out of proportion and too small for the head and shoulders, a mistake commonly made by Charlotte in her drawing.” from ‘The Art Of The Brontës’ (page 211) And just look at those tiny feet!
Significantly, ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ is painted on ‘J.Whatman’ paper with a watermark for 1843. . .
“Much of the paper Charlotte used bears the watermark ‘J Whatman’ and the dates 1827 to 1833, indicating she used the finest white paper of her day.” The Art of The Brontës” – Christine Alexander and Jane Sellars.
1843 marked the year that both Charlotte – and Emily – returned to England from their studies in Brussels; they both attended the ‘Pensionnat Héger’ from 1842 to 1843. It was after this period away that all three sisters set about becoming novelists. The watermark proves that the painting could not have been painted before 1843.
Charlotte’s first successful novel was ‘Jane Eyre’ – published on the 16th. October 1847 under the pen name ‘Currer Bell’.
Between 1843 and 1847 – the three sister’s would have spent much time together – fomenting storylines for their novels; it’s clear that Charlotte drew inspiration from the fairytale ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ for one of her characters in ‘Jane Eyre’. Charlotte describes the puritanical and sadistic supervisor of ‘Lowood’ – a school for poor and orphaned girls – as wolfish in appearance. Her description of ‘Mr. Brocklehurst’s’ countenance is copied verbatim from the story of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’…
“What a face he had … what a great nose! And what a mouth! And what large prominent teeth…” Charlotte wrote of ‘Mr Brocklehurst’ in ‘Jane Eyre’.
‘Little Red Riding Hood’ cradles a bunch of white flowers; in the language of flowers ‘white’ connotes – innocence and purity…
And what of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’s’ dress ‘code’ – is she not orphan-like? with her tattered sleeve – and her red cloak ‘bleeding’ at the hem – as if to symbolise the journey from girlhood into adulthood. Jane attended ‘Lowood’ for a total of eight years – from the age of ten through to becoming a teacher in her own right; transition complete. . .
‘Frost at Midsummer’…
Another noticeable thing about the painting is the frost on the path – and on the leaf in the foreground – yet the trees are all in full-leaf…
I love the detail of snow stuck to the sole of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’s’ shoe…
In ‘Jane Eyre’ – Charlotte describes Jane’s mental state after her marriage to Rochester is interrupted: “A Christmas frost had come at mid-summer: a white December storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses; on hay-field and corn-field lay a frozen shroud…and the woods, which twelve hours since waved leafy and fragrant as groves between the tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and white as pine-forests in wintry Norway. My hopes were all dead…”
The white flowers, the ‘bleeding’ cloak – the frost in mid-summer – are all in-line with Charlotte’s wont to meticulously copy engravings and then add her own spin; none of the above details are evident on any engravings – or the original portrait of Emily Anderson by Sir Thomas Lawrence. Which strongly suggests – the version of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ painted on a piece of J. Whatman paper with a watermark for 1843 – is by the hand of quite a storyteller – and I don’t mean Charles Perrault – nor the Brothers Grimm neither!
The National Portrait Gallery has an engraving in the national collection by Richard James Lane – published in 1824, entitled: ‘Miss Anderson as Little Red Riding Hood’ – which can be viewed here…
Alternatively, here’s an engraving by T.S. Engleheart – published by Fisher, Son & Co London 1836 – for comparison…
Of course, both engravings are copies from an original painting by Sir Thomas Lawrence – entitled ‘Emily Anderson Little Red Riding Hood’ – which can be referenced here.
Very little is known about ‘Emily Anderson’ – other than she was born around 1805 to 1810 to the Rev. William Anderson of Udale, Cromarty Bay, Firth, Scotland. I think Emily Anderson was just the kind of figure that would have caught Charlotte’s fascination and imagination…
Through ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ – Emily Anderson and Sir Thomas Lawrence – one finds another link back to the Brontës in Haworth – through Leed’s artist William Robinson. William Robinson was under the tutelage of Sir Thomas Lawrence — and in turn – he tutored Branwell Brontë! The connections are there – as are the influences around Charlotte – who herself had ideas of wanting to be a portrait artist. When the photogravure reproduction of the ‘Bonnet Portrait’ first appeared in the ‘Woman at Home’ in 1894 – an article in the ‘Pall Mall Gazette – 22nd June 1894’ stated…
“The hair is rolled into thick short curls over the forehead, somewhat after the manner of Sir Thomas Lawrence, but loosened so as to accord rustically with a great gypsy hat tied down with a striped handkerchief knotted under the chin.”
The ‘Sir Thomas Lawrence’ influence is plain to see.
When Charlotte’s hitherto unpublished portrait of her sister Emily – was published in the ‘Woman at Home’ in 1894 – the whereabouts of the original remained a complete mystery – and its whereabouts has remained a mystery until NOW.
When literary critic, Clement Shorter – falsely labelled the ‘Bonnet’ portrait reproduction in the ‘Woman at Home’ as “entirely spurious” – the ‘Bonnet’ portrait was damned in less than a sentence. . .
“The supposed portrait which appeared in The Woman at Home for July 1894 is now known to have been merely an illustration from a ‘Book of Beauty,’ and entirely spurious.” Clement Shorter.
Shorter’s use of the word ‘known’ is subjective – made up.
Who would credit it? that one person’s unfounded opinion could influence the minds of so many – even those in high places – and that’s the trouble! It’s become a ‘conspiracy of silence’ – helped in no small way by the National Portrait Gallery – that clings to a false notion that the portrait of Emily Brontë by Branwell Brontë in the national collection – is the ‘lost’ portrait that was seen by William Robertson Nicoll; it isn’t.
Ever since 1914 – when Branwell’s portrait of Emily went on permanent display – a question mark has hovered over the identity of the sitter; is it a portrait of Emily or Anne? Evidence suggests that it is actually a portrait of Anne Brontë.
Regardless of whether Branwell’s portrait is of Emily or Anne? – Nicoll made it crystal clear that the ‘lost’ portrait of Emily that he witnessed on a visit to Haworth in 1879 – was a portrait of Emily by Charlotte – not Branwell. And even though his statements differ regarding the medium – Charlotte is firmly named as the artist responsible.
Yet because of an incorrect notion that Branwell’s portrait of Emily in the National Portrait Gallery – is the ‘lost’ portrait seen by William Robertson Nicoll in 1879 – the real McCoy gets to be kept permanently in the dark.
Seemingly, officialdom prefers ‘to let sleeping dogs lie’ – that way the pretender gets to keep it’s current status in perpetuity. Oh! How easy it is to turn a blind eye when you’ve got the upper hand!
Dogged intransigence coupled with ingrained prejudice – that the ‘Bonnet’ portrait ‘type’ is a fake – equals a situation that is seemingly unchallengable; NOT!!!
It’s not like the ‘Bonnet’ drawing has nothing to connect it to the Brontës – it’s got stacks! It’s my opinion that the National Portrait Gallery’s non proactive ‘modus operandi’ in this matter is unjust; the drawing warrants to be physically seen. The century old myth that Branwell’s painting of ‘Emily’ is the ‘lost’ portrait – should not be allowed to go on unchecked – now that the original ‘Bonnet’ portrait has been found; it’s a drawing that more accurately fits with William Robertson Nicoll’s description of the ‘lost’ portrait…
“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…”
William Robertson Nicoll, 1891
In fairness to the National Portrait Gallery – they have at least read and preserved the stack of information I have sent them about the ‘Bonnet’ drawing – to ‘The Heinz Archive and Library’ no less! Apparently it’s there for the use of “other interested researchers”; ‘other’ and ‘interested’ being key words as far as the National Portrait Gallery is ‘concerned’!!! For the record, I don’t think that parroting a few subjective words from the ‘poison pen’ of a long-dead literary critic – amounts to a worthy evaluation from a great art institution who’s aim it is – and I quote – “to be the foremost centre for the study of and research into portraiture.”
It’s not like the pencil portrait of Emily – has got nowt about it…
The ‘Lost’ Portrait of Emily Bronte drawn by Charlotte Bronte. Is the sitter not clearly and boldly drawn?
Even when “an original drawing of Emily Brontë by her sister, Charlotte” and “a photogravure of the same” came up for auction in 1933 at Sotheby’s – it failed to generate any real interest and disappeared into obscurity once more. . .
Annotated page from Sotheby’s Catalogue – courtesy of ‘The British Library’ . SOLD ‘Halliday’.
The fact that ‘Lot 115’ went for a song suggests that the original portrait up for auction had something about it that put most bidders with a serious interest in ‘Brontëana’ off bidding. ‘Lot 115’ sold for 30s to a buyer called, ‘Halliday’ – a sum that today would have a purchasing power of less than a hundred pounds. One would have thought that the National Portrait Gallery – or the Brontë Society – would have snapped up ‘Lot 115’ as a matter of course; it was a bargain for heaven’s sake – as cheap as chips!!!
That said, if the general disposition towards the ‘Bonnet’ portrait was as fixed in 1933 as it is today – then one begins to realise how the ‘lost’ portrait of Emily Brontë has been poisoned by just two words penned by one Clement Shorter. Really it’s a national disgrace that a portrait of one of this country’s greatest poets – drawn by one of this country’s best-loved novelists (let alone that they’re famous for being sisters too) —— has been allowed to moulder in the dark for well over a century. And yes, the ‘lost’ portrait has suffered a bit of foxing over the years but is it any wonder when it’s been rejected and neglected for so long!
Could Charlotte have made the identification of the sitter anymore integral? The sitter’s name is interwoven into the bold lines of the drapery – from left to right the bold lines spell, E.M.I.L.Y.
I shall round off this post – by returning to Charlotte’s painting of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ – and a few micro-numbers hidden therein. . .
‘5’ and ‘8’ just below the hem.
‘6’ ‘8’ ‘3’ ‘9’ below right eye. Of course it ‘goes without saying’ that there are many more micro-numbers hidden around Little Red Riding Hood’s attire.
Rounding up the ‘famous’ five. . .
The one thing that’s certain about all five ‘Brontë’ drawings and paintings I’ve blogged about on ‘Something about Dartmoor’ – is that they manifest an energy of their own making. It’s an entity so strong – it feels like it’s taken over my blog——even my reason for being – yikes!!! It’s definitely time to let them quietly work their own special magick from now on – while I head back up to the Moor. . .
Ever onwards and upwards for the ‘famous’ five – reet to top o hill…
Enlightenment above Haworth’s elemental quarter – the graveyard. Taken on a visit to the Brontë Parsonage Museum in 2017. Left: Branwell Brontë’s self-portrait – from ‘The art of the Brontës’.
‘I see Branwell’
The ‘Pillar Portrait’ by Branwell Brontë in the National Portrait Gallery – was the eye-opener that first made me realise that there are masses of ‘hidden’ numbers in authenticated artworks too. It’s apparent to me that all the Brontë siblings hid numbers in their art – though I feel that Branwell was the one who most likely initiated the practice. Whether the presence of hidden numbers proves significant in relation to validating the artworks that I have researched remains to be seen?
To summerise:
Our argument FOR the ‘Bonnet’ portrait of Emily Brontë has been methodically worked out and adds up – whereas Clement Shorter guessed – and got it WRONG.
