Writing Slopes

A bit of history and my journey to them

I’ve been meaning to write about writing slopes for awhile now. It’s something I’m really excited about. My awareness of them first began with the Brontes, when I read ‘The Bronte Cabinet’ (my post about that can be found here). When I read subsequent letters and biographies about the Bronte sisters, I was fascinated by the idea that all three of them had their own writing slopes/ travel writing desks, and they used them frequently.

Charlotte Bronte’s writing slope (Bronte Parsonage Museum).

Not only did the sisters’ each own one of these desks, but they make their way into their novels as well. Anne’s heroine in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is foiled for awhile by her husband getting hold of her keys and looking into her desk. It also features in Anne’s novel Agnes Grey.

The BBC series about the Bronte sisters, To Walk Invisible, makes these boxes come to life, and it’s wonderful seeing a depiction of the sisters writing at their slopes.

A still from ‘To Walk Invisible’ BBC, 2016.

I have since learned that the Brontes were not the only literary ladies who owned writing slopes. Jane Austen had one as well, gifted to her by her father. In fact, hers was nearly lost - it was put on the wrong coach which was headed, as Jane wrote to her sister Cassandra, “towards Gravesend in their way to the West Indies. No part of my property could have been such a prize before, for in my writing-box was all my worldly wealth…”

Jane Austen’s writing slope

They send a man on a horse after the coach and he is able to recover the writing box and other luggage that was accidentally headed to Gravesend.

An old advertisement that Nick found online for writing desks.

I’m not sure how common they were in Jane Austen’s time. By the time of the Brontes, they were fairly ubiquitous, but they seem to have lost steam in the late Victorian era. I have loved getting to know them, not just in history books, but in person.

Last year, for my birthday, Nick got me a lovely writing slope. Similar to Charlotte’s, it’s interior lining was a purple velvet fabric. It had an interesting inlay design on the top, and I was thrilled.

The writing slope from Nick

When Nick and I traveled to Scotland in March of this year, just outside Lockerbie, we discovered an enchanting antique store called Jardine Hall Antiques, housed in the the stableyard of an old manor house. The house itself had been demolished in the 1960s, and the stable block had been derelict for quite some time. Two men sold their antiques out of the old stables and the old quarters.

It was a beautiful, magical place. Something about it felt like we were stepping back in time. The older of the two men was a sharp, interesting fellow with a unique Scottish accent that I was not familiar with. He was native to the area, and told us that the house he lived in had been in his family for five generations! The other man was very young and although he’d been born in Scotland, spoke with an English accent, as his parents were both from England. It was a cold day, and he made me a cup of tea.

Upstairs in the living quarters, looking out to the entrance of the stableyard.

Nick and I took our time wandering around this place, admiring the faded and decaying beauty of it.

I got distracted by a number of tea caddies, and while I was debating whether I should buy one, Nick kept wandering around. After looking at the caddies, I went upstairs (the same room as pictured above). I turned to my right and gasped. There in front of me on a table was a writing slope in the wild! I had never expected to ever see one in an antique store. I peeked at it, then ran downstairs to find Nick and bring him back to see the slope. He said to look it over carefully, and he’d come see it.

The writing slope!

I found the young man and asked him about it, and he went back upstairs with me and showed me inside the slope. It was a large desk, and from the Georgian era (1714 to 1837), much earlier than mine. It even had hidden drawers in it. I was in love.

They only accepted cash, and we didn’t have much on us, so we’d have to go back to Lockerbie and find an ATM, then go back (along remote, muddy country roads) to this place to get it. We talked about it for a good while, then we decided we’d drive back to Lockerbie and discuss it along the way.

I’d pretty much decided that we should not get it, when Nick said, “I hope this isn’t one of those things you’ll regret not buying.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth I began crying, which seemed such a foolish thing to do. But we decided that was the answer, and got out the cash and went back!

The place is such that I almost felt like it would be gone when we got back, that somehow we’d snuck into a sliver of time from another era. But it was there, and we bought the writing slope, and wondered how we’d get it home in our carry-on luggage!

My writing slope. We determined that it dates between 1808 to 1820.

It was a pain getting it home, and it was taken out and searched in both the Glasgow airport and the Amsterdam, where our layover was. It also took up pretty much all the room in my carry-on, and Nick had to fit everything else into his.

Another view of my writing slope.

We also decided, when we got home, that I didn’t need two writing slopes, and I was able to find a new home for my first one with my friend

Kristin Haakenson

.

Since having my desk, I’ve really tried to use it. We bought some lovely, smooth paper, and I’ve used ink and old dip pens and written poems and stories. And it is delightful to work with. I love the little hidden drawers as well, and have found things to squirrel away in them. I feel very lucky to own this beautiful desk. We learned afterward that the antique store is only open on Saturdays! It seemed meant to be that we went there on the only day it was open, and found this beautiful antique travel desk.