Saturday 26 March 2022

Charlotte Brontë and Jane Eyre: some 'coincidences' revisited

The 'coincidence' of Charlotte Brontë's childhood obsession with Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington and the subsequent appearance in her life of Arthur Bell Nichols was first mentioned in an article about being careful what you dwell on and again in an article featuring Jean Rhys.  

Another 'coincidence' in Charlotte Brontë's life that is worth highlighting and was also mentioned earlier is her accident involving a horse that echoes something that happened in Jane Eyre, which was published seven years before the event. 

Other people have noticed these connections. While they may assume that they are just interesting, but not particularly significant, coincidences, I thought at the time that certain unseen influences were at work, and I still think so.

Many years have passed since I first mentioned these two 'coincidences'. Since then, I have come across other examples of such coincidences and accidents. 

Something I recently read in Carole Angier's biography of Jean Rhys inspired me to take another look at the two incidents involving horses in the light of some of the later discoveries and produce an updated and enhanced version of events and my ideas about them.

Jane Eyre and the horse incident
The incident involving Jane Eyre and a horse occurs when she first encounters Mr Rochester. 

On the way to post a letter on a freezing winter's day, she sits on a stile for a while. She hears the sound of approaching hooves, then Mr Rochester comes into view on his black horse. Just as they are passing her, the horse slips on the ice and comes crashing down. Mr Rochester is hurt, so he asks Jane to catch the horse for him. This is not an easy task:

I...went up to the tall steed; I endeavoured to catch the bridle, but it was a spirited thing, and would not let me come near its head; I made effort on effort, though in vain: meantime, I was mortally afraid of its trampling fore-feet.

From Jane Eyre


Jane Eyre in mortal fear of the horse's trampling fore-feet:


Charlotte Brontë and the horse incident
The incident involving Charlotte Brontë happened when she was on horseback for the first time in her life. This was on a visit to Ireland with her new husband - Arthur Bell Nichols.

Comfortable and confident, she would not dismount when her party came to a narrow, rather dangerous, rocky mountain pass. They were over the worst part when something spooked her horse, which then suddenly appeared to go crazy for no apparent reason; Charlotte lost her balance and fell.

In her own words:

We saw and went through the Gap of Dunloe. A sudden glimpse of a very grim phantom came on us in the Gap. The guide had warned me to alight from my horse as the path was now very broken and dangerous — I did not feel afraid and declined — we passed the dangerous part — the horse trembled in every limb and slipped once but did not fal l— soon after she (it was a mare) started and was unruly for a minute — however I kept my seat my husband went to her head to lead her — suddenly without any apparent cause — she seemed to go mad — reared, plunged — I was thrown on the stones right under her — my husband did not see that I had fallen — he still held her — I saw and felt her kick, plunge, trample round me.

From Charlotte Brontë's letter to Catherine Winkworth, 27th July 1854 

This is the beautiful and spectacular Gap of Dunloe where Charlotte Brontë's accident happened:


So what frightened Charlotte Brontë's horse?
The local hired horses would have been sure-footed and  accustomed to taking tourists on scenic expeditions in the area, so what went wrong?

The mirroring of the fictional accident and the second mention of trampling hooves make me wonder whether Charlotte  Brontë brought trouble on herself in that a scenario that she had created in her mind later manifested itself in her life.

After all, this is exactly what Diana Wynne Jones said happened to her on several occasions.

It is possible that some kind of thought form is created when a writer, someone with a vivid imagination and a good command of the English language, envisions a scene so strongly and clearly that it seems real to them. The thought form then hangs around its creator and enacts its programme at the first opportunity it gets.

Maybe it was this entity that made Charlotte Brontë's horse stumble – perhaps on a loose stone. Or maybe the stumble gave them both a jarring shock that lowered their resistance, caused her personal firewall to drop and summoned the thought form - which then attacked the horse. 

Perhaps she was caught in her own trap; perhaps she eventually got back what she gave out and her chickens came home to roost.

Or perhaps it really was just an accident.

Descriptive or prescriptive?
Another possibility is that writers may have glimpses of future events: they are recording what they see rather than creating a scenario – without realising that this is what they are doing. 

For example, there are some uncanny coincidences in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Scandal in Bohemia and Red-headed League and the 1971 real-life Baker Street bank robbery, which was later the subject of the film The Bank Job.

More 'accidents'
A few incidents from other writers' lives may be relevant here. Taken as a group, they provide supporting evidence for the theory that unseen influences are sometimes at work in people's lives.

When Jean Rhys, who read Jane Eyre when young and was inspired to write a prequel, got on a hired mule after being injured in a fall while out on what she hoped would be a scenic walk, it threw her off over its head. She did ride horses as a girl, but perhaps this was before she read Jane Eyre. Perhaps the scene where Mr Rochester falls from his horse stayed in her mind and replayed itself in her life when it got the chance. Perhaps the first fall gave her a shock and lowered her resistance; this summoned the thought form, which then attacked the mule.

The future brother-in-law of J. M. Barrie died in a riding accident involving a horse he had bought with money that Barrie gave him as a present. He was thrown and killed the month before the wedding. 

Jane Austen, who is mentioned in the Barrie article as she too had a future brother-in-law who conveniently died, had a great friend and mentor called Anne Brydges Lefroy. Jane Austen is said to have been in love with Anne's nephew Tom Lefroy, but nothing came of it.  Anne Lefroy died in a riding accident.

Benjamin Disraeli too benefitted from some convenient deaths. His nemesis Sir Robert Peel suffered a fatal fall: he died after his horse threw him over its head.

There were two deaths involving falls – but not horses  - in Mary Webb's life. She was devastated when her father died in a fall from a ladder. Her estranged husband later died in an 'accidental' fall from a mountain.

This is all speculation.

In the days when horses were the main means of transport, riding accidents would have been as common as car crashes are now. The proposition that some of these accidents could have been caused by a kind of mind-power may seem very far-fetched indeed. 

Convenient accidents
Getting back to Jane Eyre, there are a few more points for consideration. 

The accident was convenient for Jane Eyre in that the dashing and romantic Mr Rochester was forced to acknowledge and talk to her because he was hurt and needed help, and she got some of the action and excitement that she desperately wanted. She had been feeling very restless and discontented with her rather dull and unsatisfactory life.  

Something similar happens to Lucy Snowe in Charlotte Brontë's Villette when a little girl falls down the stairs and breaks her arm: as a direct result of this accident, Lucy gets into the company of an attractive young doctor. 

While both Jane Eyre and Lucy Snowe get something they may have been wishing and wishing for, they hadn't earned it and, much worse, it was at others' expense

These are key features of psychological black magic.

Mr Rochester himself was in two minds about the cause of his accident. He has the last word when he says this to Jane Eyre:

I...had half a mind to demand whether you had bewitched my horse: I am not sure yet.

From a modern, early-learning guide to Jane Eyre: