The Key to the Brontë Works / The Key to Charlotte Brontë's 'Wuthering Heights,' 'Jane Eyre,' and her other works.

by John Malham-Dembleby

But the inexorable hand ... was upon Agnes Jones [Helen Burns]. Day by day I saw her pretty cheeks growing thinner and thinner, her eyes sinking still more deeply into her head, her little mouth becoming more blue and ashy, her long, thin fingers more transparent. Her voice, at all times so meek and low, dwindled away to that thin and tiny sound to which we listen as to something absent—already gone—something that comes from above or below us—that is not living amongst us—not breathing as we breathe—a retreating echo, rather than a living voice—a sigh, and not a sound.... It was not much I had learned from Agnes [Helen] since I had been at the institution; but never till then had I known her spirit so genial, her heart so lovingly persuasive; the beneficent lessons of those days, burning like candles within me, have since guided me well through life: she spoke to me like a prophet, and I listened to her like a believer. Oh, I could have lived for ever in that chamber, and Agnes [Helen] might have been to me the world! How often, as our cheeks lay against each other have I wished that I, too, had been ill, so that I also might have died, as she was dying, in my innocence!... One evening, ... just at that pleasant hour of twilight when two of God's wonders—night and day—cross each other like ships on the sea, Agnes [Helen] said:—'Life has its holiness as well as death, Catherine [Jane]; and you may live in the world as purely and justly as those who die in the cradle.'

"The world is full of temptation?"

"So it is, but there lies the merit, my dear; wrestle with temptation and do what is right, ... you must not allow my death to afflict you much, since I rejoice at it.... If you think of me, think of me living, not dead. Think of your playfellow in the garden; think of your elder sister who lived with you for six years."

Maria Brontë, Charlotte's eldest sister, and the original of Helen Burns, died when Charlotte was eight or nine. It is sensational indeed, that M. Sue thus identified Helen Burns seven years before the publication of Mrs. Gaskell's Life of Charlotte Brontë. The death of this character in "Lagrange's Manuscript" is in perfect agreement with that of Helen Burns. I will place the two side by side:—

Jane Eyre.	"Kitty Bell, the Orphan."
Chapter IX. By Currer Bell.	By the Mademoiselle Lagrange, of Eugène Sue's Miss Mary ou L'Institutrice.
The death of Helen Burns.	The death of Agnes Jones.
————	————
That forest dell, where Lowood lay, was the cradle of ... fog-bred pestilence, which ... crept into the Orphan Asylum, breathed typhus through [it] ... and transformed the seminary into a hospital.... One evening ... Mr. Bates came out, and ... a nurse.... I ran up to her. "How is Helen Burns?" "Very poorly," was the answer.... Two hours later ... I reached ... Miss Temple's room, ... I looked in. My eye sought Helen, and feared to find death.... "Helen!" I whispered softly; "are you awake?" ... I got on to her crib and kissed her: her forehead was cold, and her cheek both cold and thin, and so were her hand and wrist, but she smiled as of old. "Jane, ... lie down and cover yourself with the quilt." I did so: she put her arm over me, and I nestled close to her. ... I clasped my arms closer round Helen; she seemed dearer to me than ever; I felt as if I could not let her go; I lay with my face hidden on her neck. Presently she said:—"... Don't leave me, Jane; I like to have you near me." "I'll stay with you, dear Helen; no one shall take me away."... She kissed me, and I her; and we soon slumbered. When I awoke it was day; an unusual movement roused me. A day or two afterwards, I learned that Miss Temple, on returning to her own room at dawn, had found me laid in a little crib; my face against Helen Burn's shoulder, my arms round her neck. I was asleep, and Helen was—dead.	The Master of the Kendall Institution ... had ... been very much shocked by the ravages of typhus fever, and since the reports of Agnes's health had become serious, had sent several times to ascertain how she was.... "Miss Bell, I am come to inquire after our friend, Miss Jones." "... Agnes is always calm and easy-minded.... This is very kind of you." ... As I was preparing to lie down in the room, Agnes called to me:— "Catherine, my dear, I feel rather cold to-night; will you sleep with me?" Of course I complied, and we lay talking in each other's arms until the sweet dove fell asleep. Poor Agnes, she was indeed cold; a strange chill came through me as I lay by her side.... I still heard my sister orphan breathe and pant.... Why did I listen ... so greedily? Why—when the poor thing turned round once in the night, and said: "Another kiss, Catherine!"—why did I feel in giving it her, as if a hundred steel arrows had gone through my heart? How long I lay awake and thinking—wondering at the cold emerging from the pure body at my side, I know not! I must have slept, too; for I remember opening my eyes with the first dawn, before the bells rang. "Agnes!" said I, softly; "are you awake?" But there was no answer!... I called again—then a third, and a fourth time! But still ... no reply! Wondering at this silence, ... I listened for that hard breathing I knew so well. But nothing—not a sound could I hear! Alarmed, but unwilling to trust my fears, I felt for her hand. Oh, God! it was cold as ice, and rigid as stone! Wild with affright, ... I started up ... and rushed out to call the Superintendent [Miss Temple]. I found her preparing to come to us.... When we entered the chamber, we found no Agnes there! No; her spirit had fled, and all we saw was the lifeless body of a poor houseless girl.

Another biographical passage occurs where Catherine Bell first sees the Miss Temple of "Lagrange's Manuscript," who herself, under the name of Ashton (Eshton),[59] is at times Miss Brontë, who took the name of the original of Miss Temple (Evans) for herself in the phase of Frances Evans Henri in The Professor, a work not published, we must note, till after Charlotte Brontë's death:—

"I love you, madam," I said.

"Your name, I believe, is Catherine Bell, is it not?"

"Kitty Bell, if you please, madam," I answered.