Ever since I had found out that the Brontë sisters had originated from West Yorkshire last year, I’ve been interested to make a trip to check out the house in which they had grown up. The village which the sisters grew up in is called Haworth and it’s situated very near to Bradford. It is reachable from Leeds with a bus ride away. As a former English Literature student, this is definitely something not to be missed with me living so nearby. On the week before, I sent out invitation to as many as possible to see who’s interested and in the end, only two responded in coming – Leo and Xinzhe. The bus trip took longer than expected and we had to change at Keighley bus station for another bus which heads into the village. Haworth used to have a functional rail station but right now, it’s just for aesthetic fun for tourists who wanna experience steam trains.
One of the locals had overheard us in the bus that we were heading to Brontë Parsonage and offered to lead us there since she’s working in that area. The parsonage is a simple house, nothing grand about it but it is worth noting the words of Charlotte Brontë describing her dwelling place. Inside the parsonage, we get to see the layout of the house – the kitchens and the important rooms. Some of the personal belongings of the family were placed on display. It is quite interesting that among the belongings of the father, Patrick Brontë, were locks of Charlotte’s hair sealed in a locket. Now we know that hair do not decompose and it’s always one of the last things that remain after a person is long gone. So, if we were to take Charlotte’s hair and subject it to some DNA testing, I bet we can find out a thing or two on her family lineage and the reason for the sisters’ early demise to diseases. Another peculiar exhibit was Emily Brontë’s room where pencil scribbles on the house wall were preserved. There were also works of the sisters on display and I’m amazed how they had actually squeezed all their writing in mini-books which were only readable by a magnifying glass. The parsonage does not allow cameras in the house, so it’s unfortunate that I could not take pictures of the interior to share.
After going through the whole house and reading accounts on how life for the sisters were like, I can’t help but feel that the parsonage has an air of tragedy about it. It is interesting to note that Patrick the father survived the longest, outliving his wife and children to a ripe old age. I guess it must have been painful for him to live through the remaining of the years, especially after the death of Charlotte and to see his loved ones wither away while he remained alive. Nevertheless, within that short period of time, the 3 sisters had produced literary works which remained very much respected within the domain of English Literature scholars today. My first encounter with the works was on Wuthering Heights which was briefly touched upon by my primary school English textbook and I had heard of Jane Eyre before. I had never really gotten down to read the books though and maybe after this trip, I should check them out.
After the parsonage visit, we went to check out the surroundings. There was the Haworth church where Patrick used to preach and inside the church is also the Brontë family vault where the remains of the family were laid to rest there with the exception of Anne who was buried in Scarborough. Then there’s the surrounding moorlands where sheep were grazing peacefully. We checked out the small town center of Haworth and proceeded to have lunch at one of the shops over there. After lunch, Leo suggested that we go explore the Brontë trail which stretches deep into the countryside where we will come across a waterfall and streams. That was something which I did not thought of and I was kinda lazy to walk long distance but since we were already here, might as well go taste some Yorkshire countryside. We went to ask for directions in the parsonage shop and we were told that it would take at least 3hrs to go back and forth and one way would be about 5.6km. Wow! It was almost 4pm when we set off but since this is summer time, we need not worry about getting lost in the dark since the sun sets only from 8/9pm+. We had to walk almost 30 mins along the main road before even hitting the start of the trail..haha. As we walked through the dirt path that cuts along the moorlands, we went through plenty of sheep (hence the reason why the United faithful always sing about Elland Road being full of sheep). The terrain gradually became less flat and smooth as we went on and there is a need to climb through rocks and jump across muddy patches. Bronte falls came into view and we had a small wash over by the stream. The water is terribly icy and yes, one could imagine the sisters coming over here for their daily evening walks. But this is only halfway! There is another half more to complete and the end destination in mind was the old willow tree and house on top of a hill which was Emily Brontë’s source of inspiration for Wuthering heights. From the falls, I could spot the willow tree in the horizon. It is quite ubiquitous in its surrounding and there’s a house beside the tree too. There seems to be a strange aura surrounding the tree.
After the rest, we proceeded on by climbing up a steep rocky slope. My mind kinda wondered what would that mysterious house turn out to be. An empty haunted wooden house? A shop? Toilet? Or a place with vending machine? I was joking to the other two that I hope someone would be making us Yorkshire tea at the other end. Part of me hoped that my joke was true because by then, I was extremely thirsty and I didn’t bring any water bottle with me. The house became larger as we moved nearer. It was interesting to note that there were signboards in Chinese. I see that the house has somewhat become an international pilgrimage site for literature lover..lol.
It took quite some time but we made it to the top in the end. And the ‘house’ turns out to be made of stone rather than wood and it lies in ruins without a roof (although from the distance, it looked like it had a roof). There’s still a structure outline of the house and what remains of the living hall is a square filled with plants and weed. There’s a plague which was laid on one of the house walls which mentioned about it being an inspiration to Emily Brontë. What a mysterious house indeed! Who would live all the way out here in isolation and how would life be over here in the 19th Century? The oak tree beside the house looked like a wrinkled gargantuan trunk, and I presume it’s also at least a century old, sitting there through the sands of time in blissful isolation as the world outside of the Yorkshire moorlands crashes to its knees. Anyways, the scenery up there at the house is amazing. I could see vast masses of land in the horizon with nothing but sheep and grass and some modern windmills. Once we were satisfied in exploring the place, we started to descend back to the way we came from. The oak tree started to look smaller and smaller until it became a merely a speck in the horizon. I just can’t help feeling an aura of tragedy swirling around that tree as I watched it from afar. The journey back felt shorter and at the bus-stop, I was thirsty but only had Leo’s potato chips to munch on.
Overall, it was a memorable and reflective journey. The Brontë sisters may have tragic lives but they left behind a legacy in the English Literature world. The track across the countryside was not on my original list of agenda but I was glad to have tried it. Nobody should leave Yorkshire without experiencing its countryside..lol. Looks like I can give another tick now at the list of things-to-do for English Literature!
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