Just a brief note this week, to take you on a visit to Manchester, or more specifically the Manchester of the Reverend William and Mrs Elizabeth Gaskell. I can demonstrate a connection here to my main topic, as Mrs Gaskell corresponded with Alexander Macmillan. She and the publisher were both firm abolitionists, as Alexander told Elizabeth ‘No one can feel more the iniquity of slavery than I do.’ At the time of the American Civil War she contributed a poem to Macmillan’s Magazine mourning the loss of Robert Gould Shaw, the commanding officer of the Union’s first all-black regiment.
Last week I spent a very enjoyable day with a friend exploring the Gaskells’ family home, now a beautifully restored museum, and also the delightful Portico Library, where William was Chairman for thirty-five years. His wife Elizabeth, the author, being a mere woman, was not allowed to be a member, so she would send him along with lists of the books she needed to consult. It is nice to know that the lists were particularly long on other women writers including Mrs Oliphant, Miss Mulock and Fanny Trollope.
A mile and a half down the road stands the very imposing house where William and Elizabeth lived from 1850, and which continued to be owned by the Gaskell family until 1913. The building has been restored and is managed by Manchester Historic Buildings Trust and The Friends of Plymouth Grove; there was an enthusiastic volunteer in every room, and where furniture and fittings are not original, enormous care has been taken to source matching items. It felt like a very ‘liveable’ house, spacious and comfortable. The interior walls are decorated with apt quotations, and there is even a small garden plot with flowers and vegetables.
All in all, it is well worth a visit. I’m a great fan of Mrs Gaskell, although truth be told I sometimes wonder if my love has been amplified by the two great TV adaptations of Cranford and North and South. (I have a very soft spot for actors Richard Armitage and Andrew Buchan). I picked up Sylvia’s Lovers to read on the train, and struggled with the over-use of Yorkshire dialect and the ponderous start to the plot. On the other hand, I recently listened to Ruth on Audible and found it a strikingly bold morality tale, and gripping as well. Perhaps what I most love is Elizabeth’s bravery in getting herself published in the first place. She had a busy life as it was. The Gaskells had four daughters, but early in their married life they lost their only son, Willie, while he was just a baby. It was to ease her grief that her husband suggested Elizabeth start writing. Despite being the wife of a well-respected Unitarian Minister, she was not afraid to tackle politics, industrial relations, religion and sex, and got herself in various sorts of hot water for doing so - all while working at this little table in the windowed alcove of the dining room, which three times a day had to be cleared for family meals.
As my friend Kate pointed out, William Gaskell, who was NOT a successful novelist, had to make do with a large private study at the front of the house lined with bookshelves and with a heavy door to keep out children, servants and nosy neighbours.
Elizabeth Gaskell died suddenly in 1865, aged only 55, while visiting the house she had secretly bought in Hampshire. The property was a project to lure her husband away from the terrible air in Manchester to a more healthy and peaceful retirement. It came too late.
The best biography I have read was written by Jenny Uglow in 1993, Elizabeth Gaskell: A Habit of Stories, but I also recommend Nell Stevens’ novel, Mrs Gaskell and Me, which explores Elizabeth’s affectionate relationship with the American, Charles Eliot Norton.
What an interesting post - and what a shame that she died before she could lure her husband to what was to be hopefully a more agreeable way of life.
Thank you, Sarah! I enjoyed learning about Gaskell. Beautiful photos, too!