They are planted on the edge of a once derelict graveyard on what was a old toll road for wool traders travelling in and out of the burgeoning city of Bradford. The overgrown site and it’s hidden past was saved by my lovely friend Steve and is tended by him and his volunteers.
That graveyard was beside a simple church, The Old Bell Chapel, where Patrick Brontë came to preach in Thornton 200 years ago with his wife and his two young children. By the time he left a few years later bound for greater things in Haworth, his family had grown with the birth of Charlotte, Emily, Anne and their brother Branwell.
Before he ventured over the wild moors to his new parish, the Reverend Patrick Brontë planted eight small saplings, each representing himself his wife and his six children. Today they tower over the site of the derelict church ruins. And I love them for all the romance in their story.
So why am I telling you this. Because in the next week or so local residents including Steve and myself are launching a campaign to save the humble home where the Bronte sisters were born and lived just a stone’s throw from that graveyard, a little terraced house on Market Street.
They plan to open it up to visitors, particularly young people from Bradford and beyond, so they too can learn the valuable lesson the three famous sisters taught us, that no matter where you are born, no matter how humble your origins, with belief, hard work and a refusal to take no for answer you can achieve.
Saving the Brontë birthplace won’t change the world. Just like the cutting down one tree won’t end it.
But if one young person is inspired by three girls who were laughed at when they said they wanted to become writers but went on to become the greatest literary family in the world tackling such taboo subjects as gender, race and class two centuries ago, then it is worth all the effort and hard work this dedicated band are putting in.
And when they launch their community share offer very soon on www.brontebirthplace.com I hope you will join them.
At the moment the Brontë birthplace with its blue plaque stands sad, forlorn and empty. The campaigners plan for it to be reopened in time for Bradford’s City of culture in 2025. You will even be able to sleep in the same bedrooms where the girls once dreamed their dreams and sit awhile by the very fireplace besides which they were born.
Above all, that little house with all its history needs once more to echo to the sound of creativity and laughter as it did in the days of the Brontës.
They were the reason I started writing. They were the reason as a young girl in Bradford I began to realise that there’s more to life than worrying about whether you are dressed in the latest fashion or having a good time, that the pen really is mightier than the sword when I picked up their books. And that we should never be afraid to tackle things we see which are wrong.
Sometimes all it takes is preserving a piece of the past to give someone a glimpse of their future. There were never any writers mightier in my book than three little girls born in front of the fireplace in a house in Thornton you probably didn’t even know existed.
That little house needs saving for Yorkshire, for the nation but particularly for a much maligned city as it moves towards what could be the greatest year in its cultural history since the Brontës took up their pens. And that, dear readers, as Charlotte once wrote, is a legacy worth preserving. Sometimes a tree is more than just a tree. And a house is more than just a building.
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