Biography of Charlotte Bronte

Charlotte Bronte (1816 ?1855) Novelist and Poet.

Charlotte was the daughter of the Rev. Patrick Bronte,with her sisters Emily and Anne, Charlotte was brought up in a small parsonage in the Yorkshire village of Haworth. Whilst still in her childhood the Bronte sisters lost their mother and as the eldest Charlotte took up the a role of looking out for her sisters Emily and Anne. Charlotte was described as: "the motherly friend and guardian of her younger sisters,"

The sisters had an unusual upringing in that their house overlooked the village graveyard. To escape from these surroundings and the loss of their mother they would often spend time creating stories of fantasy lands. These fantasy stories were often based on the soldiers of their strict, religious aunt, Elisabeth Branwell. Later in a poem Charlotte wrote:

"We wove a web in childhood, / A web of sunny air."

After various efforts as schoolmistresses and governesses, the sisters took to literature and published a volume of poems under the names of Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell Unfortunately these early publications were a commercial failure. However this did not deter Charlotte and she continued with her novels such as "The Professor" and "Jane Eyre". Jane Eyre proved to be tremendously popular with the public when it appeared in 1854. The novel has gained status as one of the classic's of English literature for its originality and strength of writing.

Charlotte was married to her father's curate, the Rev. A. Nicholls, but after a short though happy married life she died in childbirth in 1855.

Quote by Charlotte Bronte

"Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee is not to lift an impious hand to the Crown of Thorns. "

Poem by Charlotte Bronte - LIFE

Life, believe, is not a dreamSo dark as sages say;Oft a little morning rainForetells a pleasant day.Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,But these are transient all;If the shower will make the roses bloom,O why lament its fall ?

Rapidly, merrily,Life's sunny hours flit by,Gratefully, cheerily,Enjoy them as they fly !

What though Death at times steps inAnd calls our Best away ?What though sorrow seems to win,O'er hope, a heavy sway ?Yet hope again elastic springs,Unconquered, though she fell;Still buoyant are her golden wings,Still strong to bear us well.Manfully, fearlessly,The day of trial bear,For gloriously, victoriously,Can courage quell despair !

Written for http://www.poetseers.org

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