The Life of Charlotte Brontë — Volume 1Gaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn
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The Life of Charlotte Brontë — Volume 1
Gaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn
Brontë, Charlotte, 1816-1855; Novelists, English -- 19th century -- Biography
"E." was eagerly welcomed by Charlotte, freely admitted by Emily, and
kindly received by Anne, whenever she could visit them; and this
Christmas she had promised to do so, but her coming had to be delayed on
account of a little domestic accident detailed in the following letter:--
"Dec. 29, 1837.
"I am sure you will have thought me very remiss in not sending my
promised letter long before now; but I have a sufficient and very
melancholy excuse in an accident that befell our old faithful Tabby, a
few days after my return home. She was gone out into the village on
some errand, when, as she was descending the steep street, her foot
slipped on the ice, and she fell; it was dark, and no one saw her
mischance, till after a time her groans attracted the attention of a
passer-by. She was lifted up and carried into the druggist's near;
and, after the examination, it was discovered that she had completely
shattered and dislocated one leg. Unfortunately, the fracture could
not be set till six o'clock the next morning, as no surgeon was to be
had before that time, and she now lies at our house in a very doubtful
and dangerous state. Of course we are all exceedingly distressed at
the circumstance, for she was like one of our own family. Since the
event we have been almost without assistance--a person has dropped in
now and then to do the drudgery, but we have as yet been able to
procure no regular servant; and consequently, the whole work of the
house, as well as the additional duty of nursing Tabby, falls on
ourselves. Under these circumstances I dare not press your visit
here, at least until she is pronounced out of danger; it would be too
selfish of me. Aunt wished me to give you this information before,
but papa and all the rest were anxious I should delay until we saw
whether matters took a more settled aspect, and I myself kept putting
it off from day to day, most bitterly reluctant to give up all the
pleasure I had anticipated so long. However, remembering what you
told me, namely, that you had commended the matter to a higher
decision than ours, and that you were resolved to submit with
resignation to that decision, whatever it might be, I hold it my duty
to yield also, and to be silent; it may be all for the best. I fear,
if you had been here during this severe weather, your visit would have
been of no advantage to you, for the moors are blockaded with snow,
and you would never have been able to get out. After this
disappointment, I never dare reckon with certainty on the enjoyment of
a pleasure again; it seems as if some fatality stood between you and
me. I am not good enough for you, and you must be kept from the
contamination of too intimate society. I would urge your visit yet--I
would entreat and press it--but the thought comes across me, should
Tabby die while you are in the house, I should never forgive myself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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