Most people know about
Charlotte, Emily and Anne Bronte but there were two older sisters who were born
before them – Maria and Elizabeth. Here I am at Cowan Bridge School in
Lancashire where the middle-class clergy sent their daughters and both girls died
as a result of their attendance here. They died of tuberculosis aged 11 and 10
with just six weeks of one another. Charlotte and Emily were also at the school
and brought home to the Haworth Parsonage quickly (shortly before Elizabeth’s
death.)
When I arrived in Cowan Bridge - a one horse town
- I pulled up beside what looked to be the only shop and bought some milk. I
made a coffee in the back of the motorhome but some of the passing traffic was
so fast the motorhome rocked a little as it passed. As I took some photos of
the village and I could see a woman in a window on her telephone. She quickly put
the receiver down and ran out to enquire what I was doing. I said I was strolling
up to the cottages that was once Cowan Bridge School. She was disappointed, hoping
I was from the council and was going to put measures in place to the slow the
traffic as it was “the main rabbit run from Yorkshire up to the Lake District.”
After a chat I walked 100m to the cottages that
once made up part of the school. It was a mild-weathered Saturday afternoon and
the owners were working outside with wheelbarrows and spades. I had a chat with
all three owners and thankfully they were used to visitors and the odd full coach
pulling up. I took a few photos and one of the owners said the cottages were
part of the school but a fire in the main part meant it was demolished. The
cottages shown were thought to be part of the sleeping quarters.
The owners left me to take a few photos and got
on with gardening (“but don’t get my reg plate in any
of the photos will you?” a man said.) The middle cottage has been done up and
you can rent it for short durations. The owner gave me a card with her contact
details however she was not angling for business as it was excellent and the
place was rarely empty. While doing up the place she’d prised off the floorboards
and found some dishes and plates from the time it was a school. About eighty
girls attended the school.
I went across the road I took a few photos and
wondered what the village was like in the 1820s. Quiet, rural, isolated,
slow-paced, sparsely populated, dark at night due to a lack of light, freezing
in the winter. The Bronte girls hated it. After their mum died their dad
Reverend Patrick found bringing up his children stressful and in 1824 four
daughters were sent here. They were some of the youngest boarders here and were
taunted by the older girls. They were classed as “Charity Children” and forced
to wear a uniform. They laughed at Charlotte who was so short-sighted she had
to hold a book inches from her face to read. Two girls shared each bed, they
rose in darkness, washed in cold water (sometimes frozen due to no heating) and
came downstairs for an hour and a half of prayers before often-burnt porridge
for breakfast. Lessons were from 9:30am to 12 noon followed by recreation in
the garden. Lessons continued to 5pm. The day ended with a glass of water, an
oatcake before more prayers and then bed.
Every Sunday pupils had to walk more than three
miles over the fields in all weathers to their pastor's church to attend the
service. As it was a long day there was a cold snack half way through their
devotions and on arriving back at school they had a single slice of bread
spread with rancid butter. Naughtiness meant food and recreation time was
curtailed and being made to sit on a stool for hours without moving while
wearing a dunce's cap.
The Bronte girls bore it out but the saviour was
not far away in the form of typhoid which swept through the village in 1825.
Deaths forced the school to be moved to the coast. Reverend Patrick brought his
daughters back home but his two older daughters soon died. Charlotte was deeply
affected by the deaths and the school remained in her mind, probably resurrecting
as “Lowood School” in her novel "Jane
Eyre".
As I was walking back to the motorhome the lady who
owned the cottage-for-rent came rushing across the road. Had I offended her by
taking too many photos? Thankfully not; she had probably deduced I was a
slightly obsessed geek and said it was worth me heading to the nearby church to
find out the “typhoid graves” in the rear corner of the cemetery. I went for a
look (see photos.) Approximately twenty girls were withdrawn from the school
but it was too late and seven dying shortly after.
If you would like the stay in the cottage the link is here: www.bronteschoolhouse.com
How it looked in its day?…
Is this the original boot
scraper?...
Around the back…
Not much in Cowan Bridge…
Just off the main road is the church
where some of the people who died from typhoid were buried…
Up by the “Typhoid Graves”…
These girls died at the school
itself…