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THE 


BRONTES    IN    IRELAND 


facts  Stranger  tban  fiction 


DR.  WILLIAM  WRIGHT 


HODDER    AND     STOUGHTON 
27,    PATERNOSTER    ROW 


MDCCCXCIII 


Printed  by  Hasell,  Watson,  &  Viney,  Ld.,  London  and  Aylesbury. 


PREFACE 

T  TRUST  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  I  dis- 
•*•  claim  all  responsibility  for  the  Bronte  acts, 
opinions,  and  sentiments  recorded  in  this  book. 
As  no  one  living  could  lay  claim  to  Bronte  genius, 
even  in  its  less-cultured  condition,  no  one  should  be 
held  responsible  for  the  eccentricities  of  that  genius. 

It  is  right,  however,  that  I  should  express  my 
indebtedness  to  many  for  generous  encouragement 
and  unstinted  assistance  in  setting  in  order  these 
fragments  of  an  almost  forgotten  past. 

In  a  very  special  manner  I  have  to  acknowledge 
my  obligation  to  Dr.  W.  Robertson  Nicoll,  whose 
sympathy  with  the  Bronte  genius  is  as  profound 
as  his  knowledge  of  the  literature  is  unrivalled. 
Dr.  Nicoll  has  the  rare  power  of  kindling  the 
zeal  of  others  at  his  own  torch,  and  but  for  his 
enthusiasm  the  story  of  The  Brontes  in  Ireland 
would  probably  never  have  been  published. 

The  Rev.  J.  B.  Lusk,  M.A.,  now  resident  in  the 


vi  PREFACE 

Ballynaskeagh  manse,  has  been  indefatigable  in 
investigating  old  documents,  and  in  interviewing 
old  residents,  and  generally  in  verifying  my  accu- 
mulated facts.  Besides  enabling  me  to  study  the 
history  of  the  Brontes  from  new  standpoints,  he 
has  disposed  for  ever  of  the  baseless  assertion  that 
the  family  was  called  "  Prunty  "  in  Ireland. 

The  Rev.  W.  John  McCracken  of  Ballyeaston, 
Belfast,  who  knew  the  Brontes  personally,  has 
placed  at  my  disposal,  in  written  form,  his  recol- 
lections of  the  family. 

The  Rev.  R.  H.  Harshaw  of  Mount  Mellick,  in 
whose  grandfather's  house  Hugh  Bronte  was  once 
a  hired  servant,  has  kindly  supplied  me  with  valu- 
able details. 

The  Rev.  H.  W.  Lett,  Rector  of  Aghaderg, 
Loughbrickland,  to  whom  we  owe  the  recovery 
of  the  Drumgooland  Vestry-book,  has  generously 
given  me  permission  to  make  use  of  his  summary 
of  that  precious  document. 

I  am  much  indebted  to  the  Registrar  of  Cam- 
bridge University,  and  to  the  Bursar  of  St.  John's 
College,  for  information  readily  and  courteously 
given.  They  have  shown  that  there  was  no  trace 
of  the  name  of  "  Prunty "  at  Cambridge,  as  Mr. 


PREFACE  vii 

Lusk  has  shown  that  there  was  no  trace  of  it  in 
Ireland. 

From  Miss  Ellen  Nussey,  the  "Miss  E."  of  the 
Gaskell  biography,  and  the  Caroline  Helstone  of 
SJiirley,  I  have  heard  abundant  details  regarding 
the  gifted  family  in  England.  Miss  Nussey  is  a 
close  observer  and  a  vivid  narrator,  and  during  a 
much-appreciated  visit  to  my  house  in  April  1891 
she  often  made  the  inmates  of  the  Haworth  vicarage 
live  again. 

Besides  Miss  Nussey,  several  other  ladies  helped 
me  much  ;  and  to  many  in  humble  life  in  Ireland 
I  am  deeply  indebted  for  information  regarding 
matters  which  had  fallen  within  their  own  obser- 
vation. 

When  my  many  helpers  discover  in  these  pages 
little  trace  of  the  abundant  material  which  they 
placed  at  my  disposal,  I  trust  they  will  remember 
that  the  narrative  had  to  be  kept  within  narrow 
limits,  and  that  every  bit  of  information  helped 
me  to  come  to  conclusions  on  doubtful  matters, 
and  contributed  to  the  general  result.  Besides, 
there  are  several  important  incidents  which  I  have 
left  untold,  believing  as  I  do  that  in  such  matters 
the  half  is  more  than  the  whole. 


viii  PREFACE 

I  must  also  thank  my  spirited  publishers  on 
both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  for  the  attractive  form 
in  which  they  have  brought  out  the  book. 

While  acknowledging  my  great  indebtedness  to 
the  living,  I  must  admit  that  my  obligation  to  the 
dead  is  still  greater. 

WILLIAM   WRIGHT. 


WOOLSTHORPE,    NORWOOD. 

October  1893. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    I. 

PAGES 

THE    HIDDEN    SOURCES       .....  I — 5 

The  history  of  the  Brontes  and  the  history  of  the 
Nile — Investigations  mainly  on  English  soil — Guess- 
work— The  heart  of  the  mystery  in  Ireland — Mrs. 
Gaskell's  tribute  inadequate — Something  beyond  Mr. 
Wemyss  Reid's  theory — Mr.  Augustine  Birrell's  ad- 
ditional facts  and  pointless  sarcasm — Authors  building 
on  an  Egyptian  model — Mr.  Erskine  Stuart's  prediction. 

CHAPTER    II. 

THE       CHIEF      SOURCES       OF       INFORMATION  :       PRE- 
LIMINARY        .  ....  6 — 14 

Exceptional  advantages  for  telling  the  tale — My  nurse's 
tales — My  tutor's  recollections — His  methods — Early 
screeds  of  Bronte  novels — The  grain  of  truth  in  Bran- 
well's  boast — The  facts  of  Wulhering Heights — The  Todds 
and  McAllisters — Rev.  David  McKee,  the  friend  and 
adviser  of  the  Brontes — The  novels  first  read  in  his  manse 
— Arrival  of  Jane  Eyre — Side  lights — Collecting  facts. 

CHAPTER    III. 
GRANDFATHER    BRONTE'S    EARLY    HOME  .  15 — 18 

Hereditary  gift  of  story-telling — Miss  Ellen  Nussey's 
testimony — The  girls  hanging  on  their  father's  lips — 
Grandfather  Bronte  and  Jane  Eyre — Hugh's  childhood — 
An  uncle  and  aunt  arrive — Laying  plans— Visions  of 
paradise — A  night  to  be  remembered — Incidents  re- 
membered—  The  dressmaker's  beverage  —  Last  adieux 
from  brothers  and  sisters — His  mother's  caresses — Out 
in  the  darkness. 


x  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    IV. 

PAGES 

THE   FOUNDLING   AND    FOSTER-FRIENDS       .  .       19 — 31 

The  great-great-grandfather  of  the  novelists — Home 
near  Drogheda  on  the  Boyne — Dirty  child  found  on  a  boat 
from  Liverpool  to  Drogheda — Mrs.  Bronte  and  the  infant 
— Baby  taken  home  and  called  Welsh — Brontes  golden- 
haired  from  the  third  generation — Welsh's  unhappy  lot — 
Meets  cruelty  by  cunning — Clings  to  great-great-grand- 
father Hugh — Accompanies  him  to  fairs  and  markets — 
The  little  spy  useful — The  successful  cattle-dealer —  . 
Mysterious  death  of  great-great-grandfather  Hugh — 
Position  of  the  family — Conference  with  Welsh — Welsh 
proposes  to  marry  Mary  Bronte,  his  late  masters  daughter 
— Rejected  with  scorn — Welsh's  threat — Action  of  the 
family — Counter-action  of  Welsh — A  land  agent  and 
entourage — Welsh  a  sub-agent — His  business — Helps 
himself  as  well  as  his  master — His  twofold  purpose — 
Meg  a  female  sub-agent — Her  functions — Courtship  by 
proxy — The  constant  drip — Welsh  meets  Mary  Bronte 
and  carries  out  his  designs — Marriage  in  secret,  pro- 
claimed on  the  housetops — Welsh  secures  the  farm — 
The  brothers  and  the  agent — Law  and  order — Birth  of 
the  tenant-right  theory. 

CHAPTER    V. 
THE   ADOPTION   AND   OATH  ....      32 — 34 

Eviction  and  vengeance — Burning  of  the  old  home — 
Welsh's  repentance— Official  oaths  and  family  oaths — 
The  lost  clue. 

CHAPTER    VI. 
A    FEARFUL   JOURNEY 35 — 50 

Welsh  without  the  mask — A  child's  struggle  in  the  dark 
— A  curse  and  a  blow — Dreaming  of  home — The  careless 
heavens — Friendless — The  tree  of  knowledge — A  child's 
prayers  and  doubts — Cause  of  the  cruelty — A  strange 
landscape — A  halt — Journey  continued — The  castle 


CONTENTS  xi 

PAGES 

couch — Scotch  lad  and  English  lady  in  Arab  life — Night 
journeys  and  day  halts — New  clothes — No  deliverance — 
Drogheda  reached — At  home  on  the  Boyne — Sources  of 
the  narrative—  Hugh  Bronte's  dramatic  eloquence  con- 
trasted with  that  of  his  granddaughters — No  traces  of 
the  journey — Searching  for  the  Bronte  house  in  vain. 

CHAPTER    VII. 
A    MISERABLE    HOME       .....  51 — 66 

A  cold  welcome — Settling  conditions — Gallagher  ap- 
proves— The  Blessed  Virgin  and  saints  introduced— An 
old  grievance — Meg  and  her  business  — Destruction  of 
bastards  —  Joseph  in  Wuthering  Heights  typed  by 
Gallagher — Heathcliffe  and  Welsh — New  company — 
Description  of  the  mansion — Hugh's  illness — Friendship 
with  Keeper — Something  to  live  for — Cocks — Aunt  Mary 
kind — Tells  him  the  Bronte  tragedy — Returning  spring 
and  health — Keeper  at  work — Emily  Bronte's  Keeper — 
Irish  home  love — Awaiting  his  deliverer — Outgrowing 
his  clothes — Growing  to  his  surroundings — Hard  slavery 
— The  spy — The  devil. 

CHAPTER    VIII. 
THE   CAPTIVE   ESCAPES  .  .  .  ...  67 — 75 

Welsh's  quarrels — A  bit  of  bog — Land  agent — An 
agrarian  battle — Welsh  worsted — Hugh  joins  the  enemy 
— Second  battle  of  the  Boyne  and  its  results — Words 
of  truth  and  deferred  claims— Chaff  bed  and  rival  heir — 
Promised  chastisement — A  resourceful  ally — Presenti- 
ment— Hugh  trounces  Gallagher — Final  leave-taking — 
Kisses  Keeper  and  plunges  into  the  Boyne — A  swim 
for  life — Helped  on  his  second  great  journey. 

CHAPTER    IX. 
THE    FLIGHT  AND    REFUGE      ....  76 — 78 

On  solid  ground— The  fugitive  passes  through  Dun- 
leer,  Castlebellingham,  and  Dundalk — Turns  eastward 


xii  CONTENTS 

PAGES 

towards  Carlingford — Finds  work  at  Mount  Pleasant 
Kilns — Burning  lime — New  clothes — Free  labour — 
Makes  a  new  friend. 

CHAPTER   X. 
LOVE   AT   FIRST   SIGHT 79 — 82 

Visit  to  County  Down — A  surprise  in  store — -An  Irish 
beauty — Alice  McClory  described — Hugh's  discomfiture 
— The  Protestant  bar — Hugh's  eagerness — Alice  cold. 

CHAPTER    XI. 
TRUE   LOVE   AND    PARTY   STRIFE          .  .  .      83 — 91 

Christmas  holidays  —  Engagement  —  The  Catholics 
roused — Religious  tests — The  dying  Orangeman — Perio- 
dical party  battles — I2th  of  July  and  I7th  of  March — 
Weapons — The  great  religious  agitation — An  Irish  priest 
— Alice  and  the  priest — Hugh  innocent  of  religion — At- 
tempt to  disarm  prejudice — A  conference  ends  in  a  fight 
— Contrairyness — A  dreadful  speech — Hugh  among  the 
Philistines — Saved  by  Alice — Tender  good-bye — Hugh's 
sudden  conversion — The  deepening  of  true  love. 

CHAPTER    XII. 
LOVE'S   SUBTERFUGES 92 — 105 

Burning  lime — Hugh's  inattention — Visits  Alice — 
Secret  meetings — The  Courting  Bower — Traitors — A  rival 
lover  produced — Hugh  begins  his  education — A  plot — 
Dismissal — Hired  to  James  Harshaw  as  a  farm  labourer 
— The  Harshaws'  kind  treatment — Hugh's  duties — 
Taught  by  the  children — Hugh's  doctrines — The  Martins 
— Jane  Harshaw  became  the  mother  of  John  Martin,  M.P. 
— Martin  meets  Mitchell — Both  transported — John  Martin 
and  Hugh  Bronte's  doctrines— Palmerston  and  Martin 
— Bronte  lost  sight  of — Alice  takes  horse  exercise — 
Communicates  with  Hugh — Burns  the  rival — Marriage 
arranged — Preparations — Wedding  party  arrived — Alice 


CONTENTS  xiii 

PAGES 

elopes  with  Hugh — Married  in  Magherally  Church — 
Burns  and  the  wedding  party  drink  her  health — The 
fugitives  forgiven. 

CHAPTER    XIII. 
LOVE    IN   A   COTTAGE         ...  .    106 — 113 

At  home  with  Red  Paddy — The  cottage  in  Emdale — 
Present  condition  of  the  cottage— Rev.  Patrick  Bronte's 
birthplace — The  corn-kiln — 1 7th  of  March,  1777 — Emdale 
and  Haworth — Happy  home — Honest  poverty — Re- 
moval to  a  larger  house — Increasing  family — Parish 
register — Hugh's  verses  on  Alice. 

CHAPTER    XIV. 
THE    DAILY    ROUND  .....    114 — 128 

Becking  the  kiln — A  primitive  kiln — Payment  in  kind 
— Alice's  spinning-wheel — Brontes  clad  in  home-spun 
— Bronte  independence  —  Bronte  a  ditcher  —  Bronte 
prosperity — MacAdam's  discovery — Invention  worked  by 
the  Brontes — Farming  and  road-making— A  public-house 
— Turn  of  the  tide — Decadence — Drinking  habits — Rev. 
D.  McKee  begins  the  temperance  cause — The  sermon 
on  the  Rechabites — Dr.  Edgar  reads  The  Rechabites — 
Empties  his  whiskey  down  the  gutter — The  temperance 
crusade. 

CHAPTER    XV. 
THE    IRISH    RACONTEUR,    OR    STORY-TELLER  129 — 141 

The  hakkaiiudti — His  manner — His  success — The 
Irish  hakkawdti — His  hearers — Baby  Patrick  Bronte — 
Hugh  Bronte  a  moral  teacher— His  studies;  his  books 
— His  superstitions — Patrick  inherited  his  father's  gifts 
— Emily  Bronte  and  her  father's  stories — Miss  Nussey's 
testimony — Swinburne's  insight  —  Emily's  models — 
Wuthering  Heights  thoroughly  Bronte — Emily's  art — 
Bronte  attributes. 


xiv  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

PAGES 

HUGH   BRONTE   AS   A    TENANT-RIGHTER      .  142 — 155 

Lecture  Bible  in  hand — Bible  and  Church — Protestant 
parsons — Catholic  priests — Kings  and  emperors — King 
George  III. — Landlords — The  peasants — Law-making — 
Land  agents  and  attorneys — The  Bronte  estate — Land- 
lord art — Irish  law  and  justice — Obedience — Patriotism 
— His  animus — Battle  of  Ballynahinch — Hugh's  escape 
— "  Every  man  his  own  " — The  cure  for  turbulence — 
Sharman  Crawford's  tenant-right — Crawford's  views — 
Councillor  Dodd — Cruelty  to  a  child  and  the  result. 

CHAPTER    XVII. 
THE   BRONTE    FAMILY  :    GENEALOGICAL       .  156 — 162 

Summary — Defective  records  of  Drumballyroney — 
Bronte  baptismal  register — The  Bronte  girls — Rev. 
John  McCracken's  testimony. 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 
THE   BRONTES   AL   FRESCO  .  .  .  163 — 174 

McAllister's  story — Six  Bronte  brothers— Ball-rolling 
—  Curious  phraseology — Odd  appearance — Harvesting 
— Local  report — The  concert  in  the  Glen — Sisters  spin- 
ningand  dancing — Brothers  fiddling  and  dancing  in  turns 
— The  scene — The  spectators — Awe  of  the  Brontes — 
Unsocial. 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE     BRONTES,      THE      DEVIL,       AND     THE      POTATO 

BLIGHT 175 — 184 

The  potato  blight — Different  kinds  of  farmers  and 
farming—  Housekeeping — The  lazy  poor — Bronte  in- 
dustry —  Bronte  prosperity  —  Good  landlord  —  Bronte 


CONTENTS  xv 

PAGES 

paradise  blasted — Theories — Common  belief  that  the 
devil  blighted  the  potatoes — Vivid  recollections — Hugh 
Bronte's  challenge — Offering  to  the  fiend — Dramatic 
power. 

CHAPTER    XX. 
MINOR   AMUSEMENTS   OF   THE    BRONTES     .  185 — 192 

Want  of  a  common  holiday — Party  days — Con- 
sumption of  whiskey — Kind  of  drink — Fiery  potations 
and  orations — Party  fights  —Party  balls — Christmas  and 
New  Year's  Day — Easter  Sunday  and  eggs — Shooting 
matches — Cock-fighting — Patrick  as  a  marksman  and 
sportsman — Wakes  and  funerals — Boxing — Incident  in 
Rathfriland  fair — Gathering  may-flowers. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 
THE   GREAT    BRONTE    BATTLE    .  .  .  193 — 204 

The  local  Hejira — The  fight  between  Sam  Clarke 
and  Welsh  Bronte — Origin  of  the  battle — Peggy  Camp- 
bell—  The  schoolboys'  cruelty — Welsh  intervenes — 
Ducking  the  cripple — The  duckers  ducked — -The  chal- 
lenge— The  preparations — The  crowd— Public  opinion — 
Clarke's  mother — Welsh's  sweetheart — Spartan  speech 
— Long  endurance — Final  command — Crushing  victory — 
Peaceful  result — Traditions — Welsh's  repentance. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 
THE   BRONTES   AND   THE   GHOSTS        .  .  205 — 2l8 

The  haunted  Glen — A  tragedy — Bronte  habits — The 
suicide  —  The  headless  man  —  Ghost-baiting  —  Hugh 
Bronte  with  sword  and  Bible — Contest  in  the  mill — 
Strange  surmises — The  wailing  child — The  black  horse 
— Grinning  skull — Apparitions  in  Frazer's  house — Chal- 


CONTENTS 

i 

lenging  the  ghost — The  ghost's  squeeze  and  Hugh's 
death — Hugh  Norton's  account — The  headless  horseman 
— Minute  description — Kaly  Nesbit's  account — A  naggin 
of  whiskey — Captain  Mayne  Reid — His  Texan  tale — 
Reception  in  Ballynaskeagh — A  practical  age. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

PATRICK    BRONTE'S    CHILDHOOD   AND    EARLY   SUR- 
ROUNDINGS                219 — 228 

Birth — Name — Early  experiences — Fed  on  stories — 
Poverty — Simple  living — Different  kinds  of  bread — 
Sowans — Luxuries  and  dainties — Tea — Young  Bronte's 
occupation  —  His  clothes — "  Pat  the  Papish  "  —  Tor- 
mented by  Protestant  lads — Blacksmith's  shop — Appren- 
ticed to  weaving — Cultivation  of  flax — His  sisters  span 
— The  prosperous  weaver — Book  hunger. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

PATRICK       BRONTE'S      SCHOOLS      AND      SCHOOL- 
MASTERS         .....           229 — 237 

A  divided  mind — Milton's  attractions — A  friend  in 
need — The  "  Stickit  Minister  " — Education  of  ministers 
— Patrick  and  Harshaw — Laying  plans — Bronte's  edu- 
cation— Lights — Weaving  and  learning — Incessant  ap- 
plication— overcoming  obstacles. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 
LEARNING   AND   TEACHING         .  .  .  238 — 258 

The  loom  abandoned — Rival  candidates  for  Clascal 
school — Appointed  teacher  to  a  Presbyterian  school  — 
Precentor — Attitude  of  the  Orangemen — Sensible  system 
— Whipping  days— Gumption  in  school — Success  in 
teaching — Night-school — Amusements — English  litera- 


CONTENTS  xvi 

PAOK3 

tare — The  avenues  of  education — The  Episcopal  and 
Presbyterian  ministers — Harshaw's  guidance — Bronte's 
attainments — His  reading — Books — Recreations  — Ob- 
servations— Adventure  on  Mourne  Mountains — Skating 
— Patrick  a  poet — The  poetry — The  Vision  of  Hell — 
The  characteristic  pieces  kept  back — Palmerston  and 
Devonshire — A  love  affair — A  kiss  and  a  quarrel — 
Dismissed  from  school — Harshaw's  reproofs — Clandes- 
tine meetings — Helen  faithless — Harshaw  introduces 
him  to  Rector  Tighe. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 
PATRICK  BRONTE  IN  AN   EPISCOPALIAN   SCHOOL  259 — 261 

Success  in  school — Private  tuition — Few  incidents — 
The  Rev.  Thomas  Tighe — The  vicar — Minutes  of  vestry. 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
PATRICK    BRONTE   AT   ST.    JOHN'S,    CAMBRIDGE      262  —  267 

Rector  Tighe's  help — Harshaw  still  his  friend — Patrick 
Bronte  matriculates  —  Hare  Exhibition  — •  Duchess  of 
Suffolk  Exhibitions — Goodman  Exhibition — Remember- 
ing his  mother — Coaching  at  Cambridge — Tutor  and 
colleagues — Signature. 

CHAPTER   XXVIII. 
THE    IRISH    BRONTES    AND    "JANE    EYRE"  .    268 — 274 

The  novels  first  read  in  the  Ballynaskeagh  manse — 
Conflicting  evidence — Patrick's  letter  to  Hugh — The 
price  paid  for  Charlotte's  three  novels — First  editions 
in  Ireland — Author's  copies — The  novels  alarmed  the 
uncles  and  aunts — Books  shown  to  Mr.  McKee,  who 
admired  them — Uncles  pleased— Scene  in  the  manse — 
McKee's  verdict. 

b 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

PAGES 

THE   AVENGER    IN    SEARCH   OF   THE    REVIEWER    275 — 292 

Joy  of  the  Irish  uncles  and  aunts — Mr.  McCracken's 
testimony — Mr.  McKee's  evidence — Favourable  reviews 
of  Jane  Eyre — Public  impression — The  Times — The 
Edinburgh  Review — Blackwood  's  Magazine — Eraser's 
Magazine — Tails  Magazine — Incense  to  the  Brontes — 
The  Quarterly  Review — Effect  in  Ireland  of  the  attack — 
McKee  as  comforter — The  angry  uncles — Hugh's  vow — 
Preparing  a  shillelagh — Pickle  and  polish — Hugh  starts 
for  England — Arrives  at  Haworth  on  Sunday — Niece's 
curiosity — Hugh  disappointed  with  his  nieces — Bran- 
well — Prize-fight — Robin  Hood's  helmet  at  Sir  W. 
Armitage's — Hugh  leaves  Haworth  for  London — In 
lodgings — At  John  Murray's — Saw  the  editor  of  the 
Review — Reviewer  tried  to  find  out  who  Currer  Bell 
was — Ceased  to  admit  Hugh  at  Murray's — Hugh  with 
the  publishers — A  friend  at  the  British  Museum — A 
private  dinner — Promised  assistance  in  searching  for 
the  reviewer — Hugh's  resources — Opinions  of  book- 
sellers— London  explored — Return  to  Haworth — The 
vicarage  gloomed — Anne's  comfort  and  parting — A  walk 
with  Charlotte — Final  parting — The  mission  a  failure. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

WHO     WROTE     THE     REVIEW?     A     WORKING     HYPO- 
THESIS .'  .  .  .  .          293 — 308 

The  unsolved  question — The  secret  safe  in  the 
house  of  Murray — General  detestation  of  the  reviewer — 
Mrs.  Gaskell's  opinion — Swinburne's  attack — Augustine 
Birrell's  onslaught — Interpolation  in  the  review— Vanity 
Fair — Becky  disposed  of,  and  Thackeray  lauded — The 
reviewer  grows  moral— Specimen  of  the  pagan  and 
Pharisaic  patchwork — Difference  in  style  and  sentiment — 
Evidence  of  sentiment  strongest  —Reviewer  guilty  of 
what  he  condemns — Andrew  Lang's  views, 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Patrick  Bronte's  Birthplace  .....  Frontispiece 
General  View  of  Bronte  Neighbourhood  .  .  .  .  xx 
Ballynaskeagh  Manse,  where  the  Novels  were  first  read  .  1 1 

The  Courting  Bower 93 

Map  of  the  Bronte  District      ........    107 

The  Bronte  Home    .         .          .         .         .         .         .         .          .121 

Plan  of  the  Bronte  Homeland 123 

The  Last  of  the  Brontes'  Aunts      .          .         .         .          .         .    157 

Patrick  Bronte .         .159 

Charlotte  Bronte      .........    161 

The  Bronte  Dancing  Green     .          .          .          .         .          .         .169 

The   Ducking  Pond  .          .         .          .          .         .          ....   195 

The  Haunted  Glen .         .211 

Glascar  School,  where  Patrick  Bronte  first  taught        .         .  239 
Presbyterian     Meeting    House,    where    Patrick    Bronte    was 

Precentor   ..........  255 

Patrick  Bronte's  Matriculation  Signature        ....  263 

Patrick  Bronte's  Signature  on  proceeding  to  his  Degree  .  266 
Patrick  to  Hugh  regarding  the  price  paid  for  the  Novels  .  269 


CHAPTER    I 

THE   HIDDEN    SOURCES 

THE  history  of  the  Brontes  resembles  in  a  small 
way  the  history  of  the  Nile.  The  great  river 
was  persistently  explored,  and  minutely  described 
in  its  meanderings  through  the  fertile  delta,  and  as 
far  up,  by  pyramid  and  temple  and  tomb,  as  the 
explorers  could  go.  Traveller  followed  traveller, 
each  noting  the  discoveries  of  his  predecessor  and 
adding  a  few  of  his  own  ;  but  until  recent  years 
the  head  secret  of  the  great  African  river  remained 
shrouded  in  impenetrable  mystery.  Many  guesses 
were  hazarded  as  to  the  Egyptian  phenomenon, 
but  the  muddy  river  continued  to  ebb  and  flow, 
bearing  its  yearly  burden  of  fertility  to  Egypt 
no  one  knowing  whence.  Thanks  to  modern  in- 
vestigation, we  now  know  that  the  mysterious  Nile 
is  the  natural  outcome  of  vast  lakes  and  other 
natural  sources  above.  Explorers  have  seen,  and 
we  know. 

The  current  of  Bronte  life  and  thought  has  been 
faithfully    traced    and    minutely   portrayed    in    its 

i 


2  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

lower  reaches  through  the  fertile  delta  of  England, 
but  the  higher  reaches  in  Ireland  have  not  been 
explored,  and  the  head  source  has  not  been  dis- 
closed. The  sources  of  information  regarding  the 
Brontes  within  the  English  area  have  been 
studiously  investigated,  and  everything  known 
regarding  that  singular  family  has  been  described 
with  great  wealth  of  literary  skill  and  ingenuity  ; 
but  the  explorers  stopped  short  by  the  English 
boundaries,  and  the  eager  guesses  and  surmises  as 
to  what  lay  beyond  have  been  nearly  all  wrong. 

The  Bronte  phenomenon  has  always  had  fasci- 
nating attractions  for  the  generous,  the  chivalrous, 
the  unselfish  ;  but  the  heart  of  the  mystery  could 
no  more  be  reached  by  investigating  its  English 
surroundings  than  the  secrets  of  the  Nile  could 
be  unravelled  by  the  study  of  its  muddy  banks 
in  Egypt. 

Mrs.  Gaskell's  Life  of  CJiarlotte  Bronte  is  an 
exquisite  tribute  from  a  gifted  hand  laid  on  a 
sister's  grave  ;  but  Mrs.  Gaskell's  dreary  moor- 
lands and  dismal  surroundings  are  as  inadequate 
to  account  for  the  Bronte  genius  as  the  general 
picture  of  suppressed  sadness  is  unwarranted  by 
the  Bronte  letters  taken  as  a  whole,  or  by  the 
living  testimony  of  Miss  Ellen  Nussey,  Charlotte's 
lifelong  friend.  Genius  of  the  Bronte  kind  would 
not  be  so  rare  if  grey  and  sombre  surroundings 


THE  HIDDEN  SOURCES  3 

could  produce  it,  or  if  it  could  be  stimulated 
by  chilling  repression  and  cramped  circumstances. 
The  Gaskell  biography,  however,  roused  curiosity  as 
well  as  sympathy  ;  and  while  the  reader  felt  keenly 
for  the  desolate  girls  in  the  Yorkshire  vicarage,  he 
also  felt  that  the  whole  story  had  not  been  told  : 
hence  the  number  of  attempts  by  many  hands  to 
complete  a  biography  which  all  felt  to  be  only  a 
fragment. 

Mr.  Wemyss  Reid  has  given  us  a  picture  of  the 
Brontes  in  brighter  and  truer  colours,  taken  from 
the  very  same  material  in  which  Mrs.  Gaskell 
found  her  sombre  tints  ;  but  Mr.  Wemyss  Reid's 
theory  as  to  the  "  disillusioning  "  of  Charlotte  at 
Brussels  is  a  pure  assumption,  repudiated  with 
indignation  by  Miss  Nussey,  Charlotte's  confidante, 
unwarranted  by  the  correspondence,  and  quite  in- 
capable of  supporting  the  structure  which  Mr. 
Wemyss  Reid  would  build  upon  it.  If  Charlotte's 
genius  required  a  love-disaster  to  quicken  it,  how 
shall  we  account  for  the  kindling  of  Emily's  genius — 
especially  as  Emily's  simple  heart  was  never  ruffled 
by  a  love  affair,  and  as  the  author  of  Wuthering 
Heights  is  admitted  to  be  the  most  Bronte  of  all  the 
gifted  family  ?  Or  how  did  it  happen  that  the  gentle 
Anne  was  moved  to  tell  the  story  of  Agnes  Grey  ? 

Mr.  Wemyss  Reid's  story  stops  short  on  English 
soil,  and  leaves  the  reader  with  an  anxious  desire 
to  know  more. 


4  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

The  Bronte  problem  attracted  Mr.  Augustine 
Birrell,  and  his  brilliant  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte 
contains  some  additional  facts  gleaned  in  England. 
The  sketch  is  full  of  humour  and  pathos,  and 
deserves  to  be  read  if  only  for  the  generous  indig- 
nation called  forth  by  the  Quarterly  reviewer  who 
sought  to  assassinate  the  reputation  of  the  author 
of  Jane  Eyre.  But  Mr.  Birrell's  sarcasm  with 
regard  to  the  Irish  Brontes  loses  point  when  he 
is  found  to  be  simply  following  the  mistakes  of  his 
predecessors. 

Similar  excellencies  and  defects  mark  the 
numerous  books  which  have  been  written  on  the 
Brontes.  We  want  more  than  intense  enthusiasm, 
painstaking  investigation,  high  appreciation,  with 
only  a  few  guesses  thrown  in  where  facts  are 
needed.  The  builders  of  the  Bronte  fame  have 
done  their  best  on  an  Egyptian  model,  but  the 
bricks  used  have  been  wanting  in  the  Irish  straw 
that  would  have  given  them  cohesion,  and  hence 
the  various  structures  are  lacking  in  the  elements 
of  stability  and  thoroughness. 

This  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  was  felt  in  some 
degree  by  the  writers  themselves,  but  by  none 
more  clearly  expressed  than  by  Mr.  J.  A.  Erskine 
Stuart,  the  author  of  a  most  useful  book,  The  Bronte 
Country.  After  tracing  the  Brontes  in  England 
and  Ireland  as  far  as  their  footsteps  were  known, 
Mr.  Erskine  Stuart  adds  : — 


THE  HIDDEN  SOURCES  5 

"  For  our  own  part,  we  desire  a  fuller  biography 
of  the  family  than  has  yet  been  written,  and  we 
trust,  and  are  confident,  that  such  will  yet  appear, 
and  that  there  are  many  surprises  yet  in  store  for 
students  of  this  Celtic  circle."* 

I  now  proceed,  but  not  without  misgivings,  to 
justify  the  confidence  expressed  by  Mr.  Erskine 
Stuart,  and  to  fulfil  the  prediction  implied  so  far 
as  regards  the  Brontes  in  Ireland. 

*  The  Bronte  Cotmtry,  by  J.  A.  Erskine  Stuart  (Long- 
mans, Green  &  Co.),  p.  192. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE   CHIEF   SOURCES  OF   INFORMATION: 
PRELIMINARY 

I    PROPOSE  in  the  following  pages  to  supply 
the  Irish  straws  of  Bronte  history  which  I  have 
been  accumulating  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  and  to  lift  the  curtain  that  conceals  the 
origin  of  the  family  and  the  source  of  their  genius. 

I  have  waited  in  hopes  that  some  more  skilful 
hand  might  undertake  the  task  ;  but  as  no  one 
else,  since  the  death  of  Captain  Mayne  Reid, 
has  the  requisite  information,  the  story  of  the 
Irish  Brontes  must  be  told  by  me,  or  remain 
untold. 

I  have  had  exceptional  advantages  for  under- 
taking the  task.  When  a  child  I  came  into 
contact  with  the  Irish  Brontes,  and  even  then  I 
was  startled  by  their  genius,  before  any  literary 
work  had  made  their  name  famous  in  England. 
My  first  nurse  had  lived  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
of  their  home,  and  had  a  rich  store  of  wild  tales 
regarding  them. 

6 


THE  CHIEF  SOURCES   OF  INFORMATION          ^ 

My  first  classical  teacher  was  the  Rev.  William 
McAllister  of  Finard,  near  Newry.  As  a  child  he 
had  known  Patrick  Bronte,  and  he  had  often  heard 
his  father  Hugh,  the  grandfather  of  Charlotte,  nar- 
rate to  a  spellbound  audience  the  incidents  which 
formed  the  groundwork  of  WutJiering  Heights. 
Mr.  McAllister  was  a  good  teacher,  though  he  taught 
me  more  of  Bronte  lore  than  of  classic  minutiae.  He 
aimed  more  at  interesting  his  pupils  in  the  story 
of  Troy  than  at  grounding  them  in  the  niceties  of 
Greek  grammar  ;  for  he  held  that  classics  should  be 
taught  with  the  simple  view  of  making  the  learner 
more  proficient  in  the  use  of  his  own  language. 

He  declared  classical  learning  to  be  useful  only  in 
so  far  as  it  enriched  the  mind  with  new  thoughts, 
and  gave  a  larger  wealth  of  vocabulary  to  the 
tongue.  He  taught  me  to  reproduce  the  classic 
stories  in  English  rather  than  to  make  translations  ; 
and  sometimes  he  would  give  me  the  plot  of  such 
works  as  the  Hecuba  or  the  A  Ices  its,  and  leave  me 
to  fill  in  the  wording  in  my  own  way.  In  accordance 
with  his  theory,  he  often  varied  my  task  by  giving 
me  one  of  Hugh  Bronte's  stories  to  reproduce. 

He  used  to  take  me  for  long  walks  through  the 
fields,  and  tell  me  the  story  of  Hugh  Bronte's  early 
life,  or  some  of  his  other  stories,  which  he  assured  me 
were  just  as  striking  and  as  worthy  to  be  recounted 
as  the  wrath  of  Achilles  or  the  wanderings  of  Pius 
These  stories  I  would  reproduce,  some- 


8  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

times  in  writing,  but  oftener  vivd  voce,  with  as 
much  spirit  as  possible,  dulness  being  the  one 
quality  that  my  tutor  would  not  tolerate. 

It  thus  happened  that  I  wrote  screeds  of  the 
Bronte  novels  before  a  line  of  them  had  been 
penned  at  Haworth  ;  and  I  do  not  think  Bran- 
well  Bronte  meant  to  deceive  when  he  spoke 
of  writing  Wuthering  Heights,  for  the  story  in 
outline  must  have  been  common  property  at 
Haworth,  as  it  was  largely  the  story  of  Grand- 
father Bronte,  and  the  children  of  the  vicarage 
were  all  scribblers.  However  that  may  have 
been,  I  read  the  Bronte  novels  with  the  feeling 
that  I  had  already  known  what  was  coming,  and 
I  was  chiefly  interested  in  the  wording  and  skilful 
manipulation  of  details,  for  I  had  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  incidents  of  old  Bronte's  career, 
as  well  as  with  most  of  his  stories,  real  and 
imaginary. 

My  teacher's  relatives  lived  quite  close  to  the 
Brontes.  They  were  freeholders  and  local  gentry 
in  a  small  way,  and  through  them  I  was  able  to 
verify  facts  and  incidents  which  had  come  to  me 
somewhat  distorted,  and  rather  artistic,  through 
the  medium  of  my  teacher's  brilliant  imagination. 
The  pains  then  taken  to  have  the  facts  in  their 
right  proportion  and  setting  have  fixed  them 
indelibly  on  my  mind. 

Besides  these  there  were  two  brothers,  John  and 


James  Todd,  with  whom  I  was  acquainted,  who 
knew  the  Brontes,  and  were  brimful  of  their 
doings. 

At  a  later  period  I  had  still  better  opportunities 
for  forming  a  sound  judgment  regarding  the  Irish 
Brontes.  The  pleasantest  parts  of  my  under- 
graduate holidays  were  spent  at  the  manse  of  the 
Rev.  David  McKee  of  Ballynaskeagh.  Mr.  McKee 
was  a  great  educationalist.  He  was  the  instructor 
and  friend  of  several  hundred  students,  whom  he 
prepared  for  college.  Many  of  these  afterwards 
occupied  prominent  places  in  the  Church  and  at 
the  Bar,  and  one  of  them,  Captain  Mayne  Reid, 
dedicated  The  White  Chief  to  his  old  teacher. 

Mr.  McKee  not  only  gave  a  sound  education  to 
his  pupils,  but  he  had  the  power  of  inspiring  almost 
every  one  of  them  with  something  of  his  own  high 
moral  purpose  and  chivalric  tone. 

He  was  the  author  of  several  books,  one  of  which 
led  to  the  commencement  in  Ireland  of  the  tem- 
perance movement,  which  afterwards  spread  to 
Scotland  and  England.  It  was  a  common  saying 
of  his  pupils  that,  had  he  lived  with  more  favourable 
surroundings,  he  would  have  enriched  the  world 
with  thoughts  as  brilliant  as  Carlyle's,  but  without 
Carlyle's  bile. 

This  great  and  noble  man,  who  stood  six  feet 
four  inches  high,  was  the  friend  of  the  Brontes, 
who  were  his  near  neighbours.  He  recognised  the 


io  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Bronte  genius  where  others  only  saw  what  was 
wild  and  unconventional. 

The  Brontes  came  to  Mr.  McKee,  as  did  all  his 
neighbours,  for  help,  sympathy,  and  guidance  ;  and 
the  first  house  in  Ireland  in  which  the  Bronte 
novels  were  read  was  the  Ballynaskeagh  manse. 

Mr.  McKee's  home  was  the  centre  of  mental 
activity  in  that  neighbourhood,  and  the  early  copies 
of  the  novels  that  came  to  the  "  Uncle  Brontes " 
were  cut,  read,  and  criticised  by  Mr,  McKee,  and 
his  criticisms  were  forwarded  to  the  nieces  in 
Haworth. 

Great  was  the  joy  of  the  Bronte  uncles  and 
aunts  when  Mr.  McKee's  approval  was  given  to 
the  works  of  their  nieces.  The  arrival  of  Jane  Eyre 
was  an  event  of  some  importance.  It  was  brought 
to  the  manse  by  Hugh  Bronte  before  any  notice 
of  it  had  appeared.  He  handed  it  over  to  the 
great  man  with  a  doubtful  air  (of  which  more 
hereafter),  as  if  it  were  the  evidence  of  a  youthful 
indiscretion  on  the  part  of  his  niece  Charlotte. 

That  novel  was  read  en  famille,  and  sober  work 
was  suspended  till  it  was  finished.  When  the 
last  word  was  read  and  all  rose  to  disperse,  Mr. 
McKee  said,  "  That  is  the  greatest  novel  that  has 
been  written  in  my  time  ;  but  it  is  Bronte  all  over, 
from  beginning  to  end." 

It  thus  happened  that  I  had  opportunities  of 
becoming  acquainted  with  the  Brontes  under  the 


THE  CHIEF  SOURCES  OF  INFORMATION         13 

most  favourable  circumstances.  Besides  these, 
several  others  who  knew  the  Brontes,  some  of  them 
still  living,  have  kindly  communicated  to  me  the 
information  they  possessed,  so  that  I  have  had 
side  lights  from  many  points  on  the  many-sided 
Bronte  phenomenon. 

I  have  thought  it  right  to  give  these  personal 
details  in  this  place,  not  only  to  show  the  qualifi- 
cations I  have  for  undertaking  the  story  of  the 
Brontes  in  Ireland,  but  more  especially  that  I  may 
not  be  obliged  to  interrupt  my  narrative  by  quoting 
authorities  as  I  proceed,  or  by  explaining  how  I 
came  by  my  information. 

I  have  spared  no  pains  to  make  my  narrative  as 
complete  as  possible,  although  several  characteristic 
stories  will  have  to  be  omitted. 

During  my  undergraduate  days  I  once  spent  a 
couple  of  months  in  the  south  of  Ireland  dressed 
as  a  peasant,  trying  to  trace  some  of  the  Bronte 
traditions  to  their  sources.  I  have  since  made  long 
journeys  with  a  view  to  reconciling  points  that  were 
at  variance,  and  even  during  late  years  I  have  gone 
many  times  to  Ireland  to  clear  up,  if  possible,  small 
matters  that  did  not  seem  consistent  with  the  main 
facts.  I  do  not  even  now  pretend  to  have  reached 
absolute  accuracy  on  every  point  referred  to  in  the 
following  pages,  but  the  statements  are  as  close 
approximations  to  fact  as  they  can  be  made  by 
patient  industry  ;  and  as  I  cannot  hope  for  fresh 


H  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

light  on  matters  still  obscure,   I  do  not  see  that 
anything  would  be  gained  by  further  delay. 

I  therefore  submit  this  history  of  the  Brontes 
in  Ireland  to  the  generous  consideration  of  those 
who  can  discern  that  I  have  done  my  best  with 
a  difficult  and  complicated  subject. 


CHAPTER  III 

GRANDFATHER  BRONTE'S  EARLY  HOME 

HUGH  BRONTE,  the  father  of  Patrick  and 
grandfather  of  the  famous  novelists,  first 
makes  his  appearance  as  if  he  had  stepped  out  of 
a  Bronte  novel.  His  early  experiences  qualified 
him  to  take  a  permanent  place  beside  the  child 
Jane  Eyre  at  Mrs.  Reed's.  The  treatment  that 
embittered  his  childhood  is  never  referred  to  by 
the  granddaughters  in  their  correspondence  ;  but  it 
is  quite  evident  that  the  knowledge  of  his  hardships 
dominated  their  minds  and  gave  a  bent  to  their 
imaginations  when  depicting  the  misery  of  young 
lives  dependent  on  charity. 

Story-telling,  as  we  shall  see,  was  a  hereditary 
gift  in  the  Bronte  family,  and  Patrick  inherited 
it  from  his  father.  Charlotte's  friend,  Miss  Ellen 
Nussey,  has  often  told  me  of  the  marvellous 
fascination  with  which  the  girls  would  hang  on 
their  father's  lips  as  he  depicted  scene  after  scene 
of  some  tragic  story  in  glowing  words  and  with 
harrowing  details.  The  breakfast  would  remain 

15 


16  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

untouched  till  the  story  had  passed  the  crisis,  and 
sometimes  the  narration  became  so  real  and  vivid 
and  intense  that  the  listeners  begged  the  vicar  to 
proceed  no  farther.  Sleepless  nights  succeeded 
story-telling  evenings  at  the  vicarage. 

Hugh  Bronte,  according  to  his  own  account,  be- 
longed to  a  large  family  of  brothers  and  sisters.  His 
father  lived  somewhere  in  the  south  of  Ireland.  He 
was  a  man  in  prosperous  circumstances,  and  Hugh's 
early  childhood  was  spent  in  a  comfortable  home. 

Some  time  about  the  middle  of  last  century, 
or  a  little  earlier,  the  family  was  thrown  into 
excitement  by  the  arrival  of  an  uncle  and  aunt 
of  whom  they  had  never  heard. 

The  children  at  first  thought  the  new-comers 
very  rude  and  common,  and  they  did  not  like  the 
uncle's  swarthy  complexion  and  dark  glancing 
eyes  ;  but  as  they  remained  guests'  for  a  consider- 
able time,  first  impressions  wore  off. 

Hugh  believed  he  was  then  about  five  or  six 
years  old.  He  soon  became  a  great  favourite  with 
the  new-comers,  who  took  him  with  them  wherever 
they  went  and  had  him  to  sleep  with  them  at 
night.  The  child  was  their  constant  companion. 
They  bought  him  little  things  that  pleased  him, 
and  when  they  had  completely  won  his  heart  they 
proposed  to  him  that,  as  they  had  no  children  of 
their  own,  he  should  go  home  with  them  and  be 
their  son. 


GRANDFATHER  BRONTES  EARLY  HOME         17 

Hugh  believed,  in  later  life,  that  the  whole  matter 
had  already  been  arranged  between  his  father  and 
uncle,  but  that  the  uncle  was  allowed  time  to  over- 
come the  bad  impression  produced  by  his  sinister 
looks,  and  to  carry  out  the  matter  in  his  own  way. 
This  he  did  by  holding  out  visions  of  ponies,  and 
carriages,  and  dogs,  and  guns,  and  fishing-rods, 
until  the  child's  imagination  was  on  fire,  and  he 
pleaded  with  his  father  to  let  him  go  with  his  uncle. 

Consent  was  given,  and  paradise,  unguarded  by 
cherubim  or  flaming  sword,  lay  open  before  the 
child.  He  longed  for  the  day  when  he  might 
begin  to  spend  his  life  among  ponies  and  dogs, 
and  ramble  through  orchards  and  among  flowers, 
and  fish  for  trout  in  the  river  Boyne,  and  be  a 
great  scholar  (for  that  was  part  of  the  programme), 
with  his  good  uncle  and  aunt  approving,  and  his 
brothers  and  sisters  coming  often  to  see  him  in 
his  glory  and  enjoy  the  fun.  The  day,  or  rather 
the  night,  came  soon  enough — a  night  to  be 
remembered. 

Many  years  later  the  old  man,  then  beeking  a 
corn-kiln  in  County  Down,  used  to  tell  on  winter 
nights  the  story  of  his  early  life,  but  he  never  failed 
to  dwell  on  the  simple  incidents  of  that  night. 

He  had  waited  with  impatience  the  arrival  of 
a  local  dressmaker,  who  brought  him  late  at  night 
a  special  suit  of  clothes  to  travel  in.  When  the 
clothes  were  fitted  on  he  was  raised  on  a  chair  to 

2 


i8  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

give  the  dressmaker  the  beverage  of  them.  The 
first  kiss  in  new  clothes  in  Ireland  is  a  special 
favour.  It  is  called  "  the  beverage,"  and  is  sup- 
posed to  confer  good  luck. 

Hugh's  sisters  thronged  round  him  for  "  second 
beverage,"  but  the  kiss  and  squeeze  of  the  dress- 
maker remained  a  lifelong  memory.  He  always 
believed  that  she  had  a  presentiment  of  the  fate 
that  awaited  him,  for  her  voice  choked  and  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  turned  away  from  him. 

Standing  on  the  chair  he  received  the  last  adieux 
of  his  numerous  brothers  and  sisters.  His  mother, 
who  never  seemed  happy  about  his  going  away, 
but  whose  opposition  was  always  borne  down, 
did  not  appear  for  the  parting  farewell.  For  the 
previous  few  days  she  had  been  .  accustomed  to 
take  him  into  her  lap,  and  with  eyes  full  of  tears 
heap  endearing  epithets  upon  him,  such  as  "  My 
sweet  flower  "  ;  but  he  always  broke  away  from  her, 
not  being  in  a  mood  to  appreciate  sympathy. 

His  father  lifted  him  in  his  arms  and  carried 
him  out  into  the  darkness,  and  placed  him  gently 
between  his  uncle  and  aunt  on  a  seat  with  a  raised 
back,  which  was  laid  across  a  cart  from  side  to  side. 
Sitting  aloft  on  the  cross-seat  of  the  vehicle,  the 
prototype  of  the  Irish  gig,  little  Hugh  Bronte,  with 
heart  full  of  childish  anticipations,  began  his  rough 
journey  out  into  the  big  world. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE   FOUNDLING   AND   FOSTER-FRIENDS 

WE  must  now  leave  little  Hugh  Bronte  with 
his  new  friends  until  we  have  a  fuller 
acquaintance  with  the  uncle  to  whom  he  has  been 
committed.  Hugh  Bronte's  father,  the  great-great- 
grandfather of  the  novelists,  used  to  live  in  a  farm 
on  the  banks  of  the  Boyne,  somewhere  above 
Drogheda.  Besides  being  a  farmer  he  was  a 
cattle-dealer,  and  he  often  crossed  from  Drogheda 
to  Liverpool  to  dispose  of  his  cattle. 

On  one  of  his  return  journeys  from  Liverpool 
a  strange  child  was  found  in  a  bundle  in  the  hold 
of  the  vessel.  It  was  very  young,  very  black,  very 
dirty,  and  almost  without  clothing  of  any  kind./ 
No  one  on  board  knew  whence  it  had  come,  and 
no  one  seemed  to  care  what  became  of  it.  There 

was  no  doctor  in  the  ship,  and  no  woman  except 

»i 
Mrs.   Bronte,  who  had  accompanied  her  husband 

to  Liverpool. 

The  child  was  thrown  on  the  deck.     Some  onef 
said,  "  Toss  it  overboard  "  ;  but  no  one  would  touch  ^ 

19 


THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 


it,  and  its  cries  were  distressing.  From  sheer  pity 
Mrs.  Bronte  was  obliged  to  succour  the  abandoned 
infant. 

On  reaching  Drogheda  it  was  taken  ashore  for 
food  and  clothing,  with  the  intention  of  sending  it 
back  to  Liverpool ;  but  the  captain  would  not 
allow  it  to  be  brought  aboard  his  ship  again.  There 
was  no  foundling  hospital  nearer  than  Dublin  ;  and 
in  those  days  Dublin  was  far  from  Drogheda. 
There  was  a  vestry  tax  at  that  time  for  the  carriage 
of  illegitimate  children  to  foundling  hospitals,  but 
as  no  one  in  Drogheda  had  an  interest  in  the  child 
being  removed,  it  was  left  in  Mrs.  Bronte's  hands, 
and  she  found  it  much  easier  to  take  it  home  than 
to  carry  it  to  Dublin,  where  it  might  possibly  have 
been  refused  admission  among  the  authorised 
foundlings.  The  Brontes  even  at  that  early  period 
were  of  a  golden  hue,  and  they  exceedingly  disliked 
the  swarthy  infant ;  but  "  pity  melts  the  heart  to 
love,"  and  Mrs.  Bronte  brought  it  up  among  her 
own  children. 

When  the  little  foundling  was  carried  up  out  of 
the  hold  of  the  vessel,  it  was  supposed  to  be  a  Welsh 
child  on  account  of  its  colour.  It  might  doubtless 
have  laid  claim  to  a  more  Oriental  descent,  but 
when  it  became  a  member  of  the  Bronte  family 
they  called  it  "  Welsh." 

Little  Welsh  was  a  w^aJ£,_^eJjcjte^_ajQd__fxetful 
thin^and  being  despised  for  his  colour  and  origin, 


THE  FOUNDLING  AND  FOSTER-FRIENDS        21 


and  generally  pushed  aside  by  the  vigorous  young 
Brontes,  he  grew  up  morose,  envious,  and  cunning. 
He  used  secretly  to  break  the  toys,  destroy  the 
flower-beds,  kill  the  birds,  and  stealthily  play  so 
many  spiteful  tricks  on  the  children  that  he  was 
continually  receiving  chastisement  at  their  hands. 
For  though  they  seldom  caught  him  in  the 
monkeyish  acts  of  which  he  was  accused,  they 
attributed  all  the'  mischief  to  him,  and  detested  and 
punished  him  accordingly.  On  his  part  he  main- 
tained a  moody,  sullen  silence,  only  broken  when 
Mr.  Bronte  was  present  to  protect  him. 

He  became  a  favourite  with  Mr.  Bronte,  partly 
because  he  was  weak  and  needed  his  protection, 
and  partly  because  he  always  came  running  to 
meet  him  on  his  return  home,  as  if  he  were 
glad  to  see  him  and  anxious  to  render  him  any 
assistance  in  his  power.  He  followed  his  master 
about  while  at  home  with  dog-like  fidelity,  and 
he  generally  managed  to  tell  him  everything  he 
knew  to  the  other  children's  disadvantage.  He 
thus  succeeded  in  securing  a  permanent  place 
between  the  children  and  their  father. 

Old  Bronte  took  Welsh  with  him  to  fairs  and 
markets,  instead  of  his  own  sons,  as  soon  as  he  was 
able  to  go,  and  he  found  him  of  the  greatest  service. 
His  very  insignificance  added  to  his  usefulness. 
He  would  mingle  with  the  people  from  whom 
Bronte  wished  to  purchase  cattle,  find  out  from 


22  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

their  conversation  among  themselves  the  lowest 
price  they  would  be  willing  to  take,  and  report  to 
his  master.  Bronte  would  then  go  to  the  dealers, 
and  without  the  usual  weary  process  of  bargaining 
offer  them  straight  off  a  little  less  than  he  knew 
they  wanted,  and  secure  the  cattle. 

In  Liverpool  also  Welsh  would  mingle  with  the 
buyers,  who  no  more  suspected  his  business  than 
they  suspected  the  street  dog,  and  spoke  freely 
what  Welsh  had  come  to  hear.  Bronte  became 
a  rich  and  prosperous  dealer,  and  Welsh  became 
indispensable  to  him,  and  followed  him  like  his 
shadow  by  day,  and  at  night  was  to  be  found  coiled 
up  beside  him  like  his  dog ;  but  the  more  Bronte 
became  attached  to  Welsh  the  more  his~chlldren 
despised  and  hated  the  interloper. 

As  time  passed  Bronte's  affairs  passed  more  and 
more  into  the  hands  of  his  assistant,  until  at  last 
he  had  almost  the  entire  management.  They  were 
returning  from  Liverpool  after  selling  the  largest 
drove  of  cattle  that  had  ever  crossed  the  Channel, 
when  suddenly  Bronte  died  on  board.  Welsh,  who 
was  with  him  at  the  time  of  his  death,  professed 
to  know  nothing  of  his  master's  money,  and  as  all 
books  and  accounts  had  been  made  away  with,  no 
one  could  tell  what  had  become  of  the  cash  received 
for  the  cattle. 

The  young  Brontes,  who  were  now  almost  men 
and  women,  had  been  brought  up  in  comparative 


THE  FOUNDLING  AND  FOSTER- FRIENDS        23 

luxury.  Their  wants  had  always  been  supplied 
from  their  father's  purse,  they  knew  not  how. 
They  were  well  educated,  and  had  been  a  good 
deal  in  England ;  but  they  neither  understood 
farming  nor  dealing,  and  besides  the  capital 
employed  in  dealing  had  been  lost,  and  the  land 
so  neglected  that  it  was  not  in  a  condition  to 
support  a  family,  even  if  the  requisite  capital  and 
skill  for  its  cultivation  had  been  forthcoming. 

In  this  emergency  Welsh  requested  an  interview 
with  the  brothers  and  sisters  together.  He  declared 
that  he  had  a  proposal  to  make  that  would  restore 
the  fallen  fortunes  of  the  family.  He  had  been 
forbidden  the  house ;  but  as  it  was  supposecTTie 
was~~gomg  to  give  back  the  money  which  he 
must  have  stolen,  his  request  was  reluctantly 
acceded  to. 

At  the  interview  Welsh  appeared  dressed  up  as 
he  had  never  been  seen  before.  He  was  arrayed 
in  broadcloth,  black  and  shiny  as  his  well-greased 
hair,  and  in  fine  linen,  white  and  glistening  as 
his  prominent  teeth.  The  upholstering  must  have 
been  costly,  but  the  effect  was  ludicrous  to  those 
who  had  known  the  man  all  their  lives.  The 
sinister  look  was  intensified  by  a  smile  of  satis- 
faction that  gave  prominence  at  once  to  the  cast 
in  both  eyes  and  to  the  jackal-like  dentals. 

When  all  were  assembled  he  began  at  once  in 
the  grand  cattle-dealer  style  to  express  sympathy 


24  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

with  the  family,  and  to  declare  that  on  one 
condition  he  would  carry  on  the  dealing,  and 
supply  the  wants  of  the  family,  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  The  condition  was  that  the  youngest 
sister,  Mary,  should  become  his  wife.  The  pro- 
posal was  rejected  with  a  great  outburst  of 
indignant  scorn.  Many  hot  and  bitter  words 
were  exchanged  ;  but  as  Welsh  was  leaving  the 
house  he  turned  and  said,  "  Mary_  shall  yet  _be 
my  wife,  and  I  will  scatter  the  rest  of  you  like 
chaff  from  this  house,  which  shall  be  my-iromeA- 
With  these  words  he  passed  out  into  the  darkness. 

The  interview  had  two  immediate  results  :  it 
revealed  to  the  brothers  the  dangers  that  threatened 
them,  and  roused  them  to  an  earnest  effort  to 
save  their  home.  Welsh  had  shown  his  hand,  and 
must  be  thwarted.  He  had  robbed  them,  but  he 
must  not  be  permitted  to  ruin  and  disgrace  them. 
That  his  cunning  and  malignity  might  be  harmless 
the  boys  must  bend  their  necks  to  the  yoke  of 
labour.  They  had  many  friends,  and  in  a  short 
time  the  three  brothers  were  employed  in  remunera- 
tive occupations,  two  of  them  in  England  and 
one  in  Ireland.  They  were  able  to  send  home 
enough  to  pay  the  rent  of  the  farm  and  to 
maintain  their  mother  and  sisters  in  comfort. 

But  Welsh  was  also  roused  to  gain  his  end, 
and  it  was  certain  he  would  not  scruple  to  use 
any  means  by  which  he  might  carry  out  his 


THE  FOUNDLING  AND  FOSTER-FRIENDS        25 

purpose.  He  did  not  return  to  the  cattle-dealing, 
for  which  by  himself  he  knew  he  had  no  skill  ; 
but  he  soon  found  a  post  from  which  he  hoped 
to  avenge  past  indignities  and  gratify  his  greed 
and  lust. 

The  landlord  of  Bronte's  farm  was  an  "  absentee." 
The  estate  was  administered  by  an  agent.  He  was 
the  great  man  of  the  district — local  magistrate, 
grand  juror,  and  pasha  in  general.  His  real 
business  was  the  collection  of  rent,  and  for  this 
purpose  a  parliament  of  landlords  had  given  him 
despotic  powers,  absolute  and  irresponsible  in 
matters  of  property,  limb,  and  life.  The  agent 
was  served  by  attorneys,  bailiffs,  and  sub-agents, 
the  Bashi-bazouks  of  those  days.  One  of  the 
offices  of  sub-agent  was  open,  and  Welsh  was 
appointed  to  it  in  return  for  a  large  bribe  paid  to 
the  agent. 

The  business  of  the  sub-agent  was  to  act  as 
buffer  between  the  tenant  and  the  "  squire,"  as  the 
agent  was  always  called.  The  sub-agent  was 
generally  a  man  without  heart,  conscience,  or 
bowels,  selected  from  the  basest  of  the  people. 
Like  the  genuine  Bashi-bazouk,  he  had  nominal 
wages,  never  paid  and  never  demanded;  but  he 
was  generally  able  to  squeeze  a  good  deal  out  of 
the  tenants,  first  by  alarming  them,  and  then  by 
promising  to  stand  their  friend  with  the  "  rapacious 
agent." 


26  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

The  sub-agent  exaggerated  his  influence  with 
the  squire,  before  whom  he  cringed  and  grovelled  ; 
but  at  the  same  time  he  was  the  chief  medium 
through  which  the  agent  knew  the  condition  of 
the  tenants  and  their  ability  to  pay  their  rent. 
One  of  his  duties  was  to  mix  with  the  people  in 
their  festivities,  when  whiskey  had  opened  their 
hearts  and  loosened  their  tongues,  and  discover 
if  they  had  any  hidden  resources  from  which  they 
might  be  able  to  pay  an  increased  rent. 

Welsh's  former  practices  among  cattle-dealers, 
as  well  as  his  natural  disposition,  gave  him  great 
advantages  in  carrying  out  to  his  agent's  satis- 
faction this  part  of  his  duty.  He  was  the  very 
man  for  the  post  of  sub-agent.  He  had  lived  by 
cunning  and  served  with  treachery,  and  in  his  new 
occupation  he  had  great  scope  for  serving  himself 
as  well  as  his  master.  He  was  a  man  of  great 
importance  when  dealing  with  the  tenants,  and 
seldom  saw  them  without  letting  drop  the  fatal 
word  "eviction."  He  was  ever  arrogant  to  the 
poor  on  the  estate,  whom  he  could  have  served, 
and  cringing  to  the  rich,  who  could  serve  him. 
He  was  a  born  sub-agent,  and  circumstances  had 
favoured  his  development. 

But  Welsh,  while  serving  the  squire,  and  recoup- 
ing himself  off  the  tenants  for  the  bribe  he  had 
paid  him,  never  for  a  moment  forgot  that  he  had 
sought  the  office  of  sub-agent  for  the  double  pur- 


THE  FOUNDLING  AND  FOSTER-FRIENDS        27 

pose  of  getting  hold  of  his  late  master's  farm  and 
with  it  the  person  of  Mary  Bronte.  He  at  once 
drew  the  agent's  attention  to  the  derelict  condition 
of  the  farm,  and  to  the  likelihood  of  the  rent  falling 
into  arrears,  and  in  the  interest  of  the  estate 
declared  himself  willing  to  undertake  the  burden 
of  his  late  master's  desolate  homestead.  He  could 
not  bear  to  see  the  family  rudely  evicted,  or  the 
place  to  pass  into  the  occupation  of  strangers  ! 

The  agent  promised  that  the  farm  should  be 
transferred  to  Welsh  on  payment  of  a  certain  sum 
in  case  the  Brontes  were  unable  to  pay  the  rent  ; 
but  the  rent  did  not  fall  into  arrears.  On  the 
contrary,  the  agent's  demands  were  regularly  and 
punctually  met,  and  besides  considerable  sums  of 
money  were  spent  in  decorating  the  house  and 
improving  the  land. 

Welsh  pointed  out  to  the  agent  that  the  Brontes 
were  earning  good  wages  in  England,  and  the 
rent  was  accordingly  raised ;  but  the  increased 
rent  was  paid  on  the  day  it  fell  due,  and  again 
raised  in  consequence. 

Welsh,  finding  himself  foiled  in  his  short  cut  to 
his  master's  homestead,  and  considering  that  in 
future  he  might  have  to  pay  the  increased  rent 
himself,  resolved  to  change  his  tactics,  and  turn 
his  attention  to  the  other  object  of  his  quest, 
Mary  Bronte. 

In  the  neighbourhood  there  lived  a  female  sub- 


28  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

agent  called  Meg,  as  base  and  unprincipled  as 
himself.  Her  chief  duty  was  the  secret  removal 
of  illegitimate  children  to  the  foundling  hospital 
in  Dublin.  Her  services  were  utilised  in  many 
ways.  She  was  useful  in  conveying  bottles  of 
whiskey  to  farmers'  wives  who  were  getting  into 
drinking  habits,  and  in  aiding  farmers'  sons  and 
daughters  to  dispose  of  eggs  and  apples  and  meal 
purloined  from  their  parents,  in  return  for  trinkets 
and  ornaments  which  they  wished  to  possess.  She 
had  also  great  skill  in  furthering  the  wicked  designs 
of  rich  but  immoral  men.  She  was  the  spey- 
womari)  who  used  to  tell  the  fortunes  of  servant- 
girls  and  lure  them  to  their  destruction. 

Like  the  male  sub-agents,  such  women  were 
generally  supposed  to  possess  the  black  art,  and 
to  have  sold  themselves  to  the  devil. 

Welsh  employed  this  vile  harpy  to  be  his  go- 
between  with  Mary.  She  was  to  say  that  he  loved 
her  to  distraction  ;  that  he  was  dying  to  speak  to 
her  ;  that  he  was  now  passing  rich,  and  in  great 
favour  with  the  landlord,  who  was  likely  soon  to 
make  him  chief  agent ;  that  he  would  be  local  magis- 
trate, grand  juror,  and,  in  fact,  magnate  and  squire 
of  the  district.  In  support  of  these  forecasts  Welsh 
used  to  drive  past  the  Brontes'  house  in  a  carriage 
borrowed  for  the  occasion  from  a  gentleman-farmer 
whose  rent  was  in  arrears. 

The  spey-wonian  came  often  to  tell  the  servants' 


THE  FOUNDLING  AND  FOSTER-FRIENDS         29 

fortunes,  and  she  had  many  opportunities  of  telling 
Mary  of  Welsh's  love  and  goodness.  She  told  how 
for  several  years  he  had  restrained  the  agent  by  his 
entreaties  from  evicting  them  from  their  home,  and 
that  he  had  yearly  paid  large  sums  to  the  agent  to 
prevent  him  from  carrying  out  his  designs.  All 
this  seemed  incredible  to  the  simple-minded  girl, 
but  the  harpy  was  able  to  show  the  receipts  for 
the  money  on  the  same  official  form  in  which 
they  were  accustomed  to  receive  the  receipts  for 
their  rent. 

After  a  time  Mary  listened  to  the  vile  woman's 
tales.  Welsh  could  not  be  so  bad  as  they  believed 
him  to  be  !  Flowers  taken  from  the  gardens  of 
tenants  found  their  way  in  great  profusion  to 
Mary's  room.  Trinkets  wrung  from  anguish- 
stricken  tenants  in  fear  of  eviction  were  laid  on 
Mary's  dressing-table,  for  the  servants  had  been 
drawn  into  the  conspiracy.  At  length  Mary 
agreed  to  meet  Welsh  in  a  lone  plantation  on  the 
farm,  in  company  with  the  harpy,  that  she  might 
express  to  him  her  gratitude  for  protecting  the\ 
dear  old  home.  That  meeting  sealed  Mary's  fate. 
She  felt  she  could  never  again  look  any  decent 
man  in  the  face,  so  she  consented  to  marry  Welsh 
to  cover  her  shame.  The  marriage  was  secretly  \ 
performed  by  one  of  the  buckle-beggars  of  the  time, 
and  then  publicly  proclaimed.  Welsh  was  now 
the  husband  of  one  of  the  ladies  on  the  farm,  and 


30  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

for  a  substantial  fine  the  agent  accepted  him  as 
tenant. 

The  brothers,  on  hearing  the  news,  which  travelled 
slowly  in  those  days,  hurried  back  to  the  old  home, 
but  arrived  too  late. 

The  agent  received  them  with  great  courtesy. 
They  reminded  him  that  their  ancestors  had  re- 
claimed the  place  from  mere  bog  and  wilderness  ; 
that  their  father  had  expended  several  thousand 
pounds  on  building  the  houses  and  draining  the 
land  ;  that  even  within  the  last  few  years  they 
themselves  had  expended  large  sums  on  the  place, 
and  had  submitted  to  several  raisings  of  the  rent 
without  demur  ;  and  that  now  their  old  home  with 
all  these  improvements  had  been  confiscated  with- 
out cause  or  notice,  and  handed  over  to  the  man 
who  had  robbed  and  degraded  the  family. 

The  agent  seemed  greatly  pained.  He  was  very 
sorry  for  the  family,  but  of  course  he  was  only  an 
agent,  and  obliged  to  do  whatever  the  landlord 
desired,  however  unreasonable  he  might  in  his 
private  capacity  consider  the  landlord's  views. 
Everybody  knew  that  the  landlord  was  a  resolute 
man,  and  he  could  hold  out  no  hope  of  being  able 
to  prevail  on  him  to  change  his  determination. 
Failing  to  get  redress  from  the  agent,  the  brothers 
unfortunately  took  the  law  into  their  own  hands, 
and  were  arrested  for  trespass  and  assault.  They 
were  tried  before  the  agent,  who,  with  unruffled 


THE  FOUNDLING  AND  FOSTER-FRIENDS         31 

courtesy  and  sympathetic  demeanour,  sent  them  to 
pris'oirsnd 


He  spoke  of  the  pain  with  which  he  was  obliged 
to  vindicate  "  law  and  order,"  and  gently  reproached 
them  for  their  lack  of  gratitude  to  the  chivalrous 
gentleman  who  had  relieved  them  of  the  burden 
of  a  neglected  farm  and  made  it  a  home  for  their 
penniless  sisters. 

Thus  the  man  Welsh,  who  afterwards  assumed 
the  name  Bronte,  carried  out  his  purpose  of 
possessing  his  late  master's  farm  and  with  it  the 
person  of  his  youngest  daughter. 

His  threat  of  vengeance  was  also  carried  out  — 
mother,  sisters,  brothers  were  scattered  abroad,  and 
so  effectively  that  I  have  not  been  able,  after  much 
searching,  to  find  a  single  trace  of  them. 

This  sordid  transaction,  which  was  an  ordinary 
affair  in  Ireland,  was  fraught  with  far-reaching 
consequences  to  landlordism.  It  gave  birth  to 
a  tenant-right  theory,  of  which  we  shall  hear 
something  in  a  subsequent  chapter. 


CHAPTER   V 

THE   ADOPTION   AND   OATH 

WE  must  now  return  to  little  Hugh  Bronte, 
whom  we  last  saw  passing  out  into  the 
darkness  from  his  father's  house,  seated  between 
his  uncle  and  aunt.  In  Hugh's  newly  discovered 
relatives  we  recognise  Welsh  and  Mary  Bronte. 

Many  years  had  passed  since  the  events  recorded 
in  the  last  chapter.  The  agent  there  referred  to 
had  fallen  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin  after  a  bout 
of  heartless  evictions,  and  almost  simultaneously 
the  house  from  which  the  Brontes  had  been  driven 
was  burnt  to  the  ground,  and  all  Welsh's  ill-gotten 
riches  perished  in  the  conflagration.  He  was  left 
a  poor  and  ruined  man,  unable  to  propitiate  the 
newly  appointed  agent  with  a  satisfactory  bribe, 
and  hence  he  had  to  relinquish  the  sub-agency  so 
congenial  to  his  tastes. 

Welsh  was  always  able  to  subordinate  his  pride 
to  his  interests,  and  through  his  wife  he  succeeded 
in  opening  correspondence  with  one  of  her  brothers, 
a  prosperous  man  settled  in  Ireland. 


THE  ADOPTION  AND  OATH  33 

Welsh  expressed  deep  penitence  for  all  the 
wrongs  he  had  inflicted  on  the  family,  and  declared 
his  earnest  desire,  if  forgiven,  to  make  amends. 

He  and  Mary  were  then  childless.  They  were 
getting  on  in  years,  and  they  professed  to  be 
troubled  at  the  prospect  of  the  farm,  for  lack  of  an 
heir,  passing  to  strangers.  They  offered  to  adopt 
one  of  their  numerous  nephews,  and  to  bring  him 
up  as  their  own  son. 

Conditions  of  adoption  were  agreed  on,  including 
such  matters  as  education  ;  but  the  chief  item  was 
a  solemn  oath,  by  which  the  father  agreed  never 
to  visit  or  communicate  with  his  son  in  any  way, 
and  Welsh  and  Mary  Bronte  bound  themselves  on 
their  part  never  to  let  the  child  know  where  his 
father  lived. 

The  family  oath  in  Ireland  was  regarded  with 
superstitious  awe,  and  bound  like  destiny.  Few 
of  the  peasantry  ever  considered  official  oaths  in 
law  courts  binding.  With  them  the  formal  kissing 
of  the  Book,  at  the  command  of  a  brusque  and 
contemptuous  official,  had  none  of  the  sanctions 
of  religion,  superstition,  or  justice.  The  court  oath 
had  come  to  be  recognised  as  simply  a  screw  in 
the  wheel  of  the  oppressor.  But  the  family  covenant 
was  a  different  instrument,  and  the  man  who  broke 
it  was  perjured  and  abandoned  beyond  all  hope  of 
salvation  here  or  hereafter.  The  infringement  of 
the  sacred  oath  shut  for  ever  the  gates  of  mercy. 

3 


34 


THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 


The  Bronte  covenant  was  faithfully  kept,  and 
even  when  Mary  visited  Hugh  in  County  Down, 
some  time  about  the  beginning  of  this  century,  she 
could  neither  be  coaxed  nor  compelled  to  give  him 
either  directly  or  indirectly  a  clue  or  hint  by  which 
he  might  discover  the  home  of  his  childhood. 

It  thus  happened  that  Hugh  Bronte  was  never 
able  to  retrace  his  steps  to  his  father's  house  after 
the  darkness  closed  around  him,  perched  aloft  on 
the  cross-seat  of  a  country  cart  between  his  uncle 
and  aunt. 


CHAPTER   VI 

A   FEARFUL  JOURNEY 

IT  was  a  cold  night,  and  the  child,  coming  from 
the  bright  and  warm  house,  crept  close  under 
his  aunt's  wing  for  warmth.  Soon  the  little  full 
heart  overflowed,  and  he  began  to  prattle  in  his 
childish  way,  as  he  had  done  with  his  new  friends 
for  several  days. 

Suddenly  a  harsh  torrent  of  corrosive  words 
burst  from  Welsh,  commanding  him  to  stop 
gabbling  and  not  to  let  another  sound  pass  his 
lips.  For  a  moment  the  child  was  stunned 
and  bewildered.  He  had  never  heard  any  words 
escape  his  uncle's  lips  except  words  of  kindness 
and  approval,  but  the  fierce  stern  violence  of  the 
angry  order  fell  like  a  blow.  The  young  Bronte 
blood  could  not,  however,  rest  passively  in  such  a 
crisis.  Hugh,  disentangling  himself  from  his  aunt's 
shawl,  drew  towards  his  uncle  and  said,  "  Did  you 
speak  those  unkind  words  to  me  ?  " 

"  I'll  teach  you  to  disobey  me,  you  magnificent 
whelp !  "  rasped  out  Welsh,  and  suiting  the  action 

35 


36  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

to  the  word  brought  his  great  hand  down  with  a 
sharp  smack  on  the  little  fellow's  face.  Hurt 
and  angry,  little  Bronte  sprang  from  the  seat  into 
the  bottom  of  the  cart,  and  facing  the  cruel  uncle 
shouted,  "  I  won't  go  with  you  one  step  farther  ! 
I  will  go  back  and  tell  my  father  what  a  bad  old 
monster  you  are."  And  then,  clutching  at  the  reins, 
he  screamed,  "  Turn  the  horse  round  and  take  me 
home ! "  He  saw  the  lights  of  home  shining  out 
warm  into  the  darkness,  but  he  felt  a  heavy  hand 
grasping  him  and  choking  the  voice  out  of  him. 
Light  flashed  from  his  eyes,  and  he  felt  blood 
flowing  from  his  nose,  and  he  was  conscious  that 
he  was  being  shaken  and  knocked  against  the 
bottom  and  sides  of  the  cart,  and  sworn  at,  and 
that  he  was  neither  able  to  escape  nor  to  speak. 

Several  hours  later  he  woke  up,  and  found  him- 
self lying  in  damp  straw  at  the  back  end  of  the 
cart,  behind  the  seat  on  which  his  uncle  and  aunt 
were  riding.  He  felt  sick  and  sore  and  hungry. 
He  had  been  dreaming  that  he  was  attacked  by  a 
fierce,  wild  monster ;  but  his  father  had  come  and 
slain  the  monster  and  saved  him,  and  he  lay  awake 
listening  for  his  father's  footsteps  and  voice.  He 
waited  long,  but  his  father  did  not  come.  Every 
jolt  of  the  springless  cart  pained  him,  as  there  was 
little  straw  between  him  and  the  bare  boards. 

It  was  a  moonlight  night,  with  occasional  showers. 
He  watched  the  watery  moon  racing  behind  the 


A    FEARFUL  JOURNEY  37 

clouds,  and  the  stars  following  in  the  same  head- 
long career,  sometimes  hiding  behind  dark  masses, 
and  again  shooting  brightly  and  freely  across  open 
spaces.  He  had  never  seen  the  sky  look  so  strange. 
He  had  always  known  things  as  friendly  to  him. 
He  loved  to  look  up  at  night,  and  he  had  always 
thought  that  the  heavens  smiled  lovingly  back  on 
him  ;  but  on  that  night  he  perceived  that  the  cloud 
racks  and  careering  stars  were  selfishly  following 
their  own  courses  and  cared  nothing  for  him. 

He  turned  on  his  side  and  watched  the  two 
figures  on  the  seat  above  him,  riding  along  side 
by  side  in  silence  and  caring  nothing  for  him.  A 
few  hours  before  he  had  loved  them  with  all  the 
romantic  and  passionate  love  of  his  young  heart 
Now  the  whole  current  was  changed,  and  he  hated 
them  to  loathing.  He  felt  the  utter  desolation 
of  loneliness.  His  thoughts  rushed  home  as  he 
remembered  the  comforts  and  kindness  he  had 
left  behind,  and  believed  then,  child  though  he  was, 
that  he  had  lost  that  home  for  ever.  He  had  tasted 
the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge  that  night,  and 
had  grown  in  experience  of  good  and  evil. 

That  was  the  first  night  he  ever  remembered  on 
which  he  had  neglected  to  say  his  prayers.  His 
mother  had  taught  him  to  pray,  and  when  he 
prayed  he  believed  that  God  heard  him  and  took 
care  of  him  in  the  darkness.  Was  it  because  he 
had  forgotten  to  say  his  prayers  that  God  had  left 


38  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

him  alone  with  the  unsympathising  moon  and  stars, 
and  with  the  cruel  man  and  woman  who  had  him 
at  their  mercy  ?  He  rose  to  his  knees,  put  up  his 
little  folded  hands,  and  said  the  prayer  by  which 
children  come  to  their  heavenly  Father — the  only 
prayer  he  knew. 

When  he  came  to  the  words,  "  Bless  father  and 
mother,  and  my  good  uncle  and  aunt,"  he  felt  the 
unsuitableness  of  his  simple  liturgy  for  his  present 
need  ;  "  good  uncle  and  aunt "  stuck  in  his  throat, 
and  he  could  not  proceed.  He  was  seized  with 
great  terror  lest  he  had  spoiled  his  prayer,  and  he 
wondered  what  would  come  of  it,  if  God  did  not 
hear  it.  While  he  was  perplexed  with  this  thought 
the  black  cloud  of  scepticism  for  the  first  time 
darkened  his  little  mind  and  obscured  his  simple 
faith,  and  he  feared  that  God  would  not  hear  him. 
And  then  the  forlorn  and  desolate  child  slid  a 
little  lower  on  the  down  grade,  and  the  awful 
doubt  came  to  him,  he  knew  not  whence,  that 
perhaps  there  was  no  God  at  all,  and  in  his 
distress  he  sobbed  out,  "  O  God,  if  there  be  a 
God,  let  me  die  !  " 

The  sobbing  sound  startled  the  uncle.  He 
turned  suddenly  round,  and  with  his  whip  struck 
the  kneeling  child  and  prostrated  him.  Little 
Hugh  did  not  see  the  blow  coming,  and  for  an 
instant  he  thought  God  had  answered  has  prayer 
and  killed  him  ;  but  the  blow  was  followed  by 


A   FEARFUL  JOURNEY  39 

a   hurricane  of  oaths  and  threats   which   left   no 
doubt  that  it  came  from  his  uncle. 

The  child  was  badly  hurt.  The  weal  raised  by 
the  whip  burned  like  a  cord  of  fire.  He  did  not 
cry,  however.  The  philosophy  of  patient,  passive 
resistance  grew  up  in  him,  and  he  would  not  let 
his  bad  uncle  know  that  he  was  suffering  from 
the  blow. 

Seventy  years  after  that  night  Hugh  Bronte 
used  to  tell  the  story  with  great  vividness,  dwelling 
on  his  own  feelings  in  their  sequence,  and  in 
repeating  the  narrative  he  scarcely  ever  forgot 
a  sentence  or  varied  a  word.  He  would  say,  "  I 
grew  fast  that  night  :  I  was  Christian  child,  ardent 
lover,  vindictive  hater,  enthusiast,  misanthrope, 
sceptic,  atheist,  and  philosopher  in  one  cruel  hour. 
Undeserved  blows  from  a  hand  we  once  loved 
fall  heavy,  and  lead  to  many  thoughts." 

The  child's  mind  was  filled  with  a  great  tumult 
of  feelings.  His  atheism  was  merely  a  spasm  of 
the  heart,  and  as  he  lay  on  the  straw  he  wondered 
if  God  would  let  him  die,  and  then,  like  a  true 
Bronte,  he  prayed  that  his  life  might  be  spared 
until  he  should  be  avenged  on  his  inhuman  uncle. 

Then  he  was  a  child  again.  His  mother's  form 
rose  up  before  him  ;  he  remembered  how  he  had 
prayed  at  her  knee,  and  slept  safely.  He  remem- 
bered also  the  sad  eyes  which  she  had  bent  upon 
him  during  the  past  few  days,  and  the  sweet  and 


40  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

gentle  manner  in  which  she  had  caressed  him, 
and,  while  his  thoughts  were  thus  occupied,  he 
imagined  that  he  was  again  safe  on  her  lap,  and 
slept. 

When  he  awoke  it  was  broad  day.  He  lay 
perfectly  still,  and  heard  an  altercation  going  on 
between  Welsh  and  his  wife  about  fifty  pounds. 
He  did  not  then  fully  understand  the  subject  of 
the  quarrel,  but  he  learned  afterwards  that  Welsh 
expected  Mary  to  prevail  on  her  brother  to  pay 
£$o  per  annum  in  return  for  Hugh's  prospects 
and  bringing  up. 

The  bitter  wrangle  closed  by  Welsh  declaring 
he  would  murder  both  his  wife  and  nephew  and 
throw  them  into  the  river.  Long  silence  followed 
this  announcement,  and  then  they  began  to  pass 
a  bottle  of  whiskey  between  them.  Noticing  that 
Hugh  was  awake,  they  passed  it  to  him  and 
ordered  him  to  drink.  He  was  thirsty,  and  put 
the  bottle  to  his  lips,  but  could  not  drink  ;  he  had 
never  tasted  whiskey  before,  and  it  burnt  him. 
His  uncle,  in  taking  back  the  bottle  from  him, 
spoke  savagely,  but  did  not  strike  him. 

After  a  while  he  sat  up  in  the  straw  and  looked 
over  the  sides  of  the  cart.  He  was  in  a  strange 
and  unknown  land.  On  the  west  rose  a  mountain 
abloom  with  heather.  The  rising  sun  shone  upon 
it,  and  gave  a  golden  tint  to  the  ruby  heath.  On 
the  east,  bordered  by  the  sea,  stretched  a  level 


A   FEARFUL  JOURNEY  41 

plain  composed  of  barren  bog  and  rocky  scrub- 
land. The  morning  sky  was  perfectly  unclouded, 
and  the  sun,  which  had  just  risen  out  of  a  blood- 
red  sea,  was  touching  with  silver  the  dewy  grass  and 
wet  stones  and  gossamer  cobwebs  on  the  bushes. 

There  was  no  sign  of  human  being  within  sight. 
Crows  flew  overhead,  wheat-ears  on  the  rocks 
flashed  their  white-ringed  tails,  hawks  poised  in  the 
air  over  their  prey  ;  but  the  land  was  desolate,  and 
even  the  track  on  which  the  cart  jogged  heavily 
along  could  scarcely  be  called  a  road.  As  the 
wheels  jolted  from  hole  to  hole  the  child  felt 
his  whole  frame  shaken  almost  to  pieces.  He  was 
hungry  and  cold  and  in  pain,  but  he  was  glad 
that  God  did  not  take  him  at  his  word  and  let 
him  die  in  the  darkness.  Then  he  remembered 
the  loving  home  that  was  receding  farther  and 
farther  from  him,  and  having  repeated  the  simple 
prayer  that  his  mother  had  taught  him  to  say 
every  morning,  the  weary,  home-sick  child  sobbed 
himself  again  to  sleep. 

When  he  awoke  the  sun  was  shining  hot  in  his 
face.  He  was  alone  in  the  cart,  out  of  which  the 
horse  had  been  taken.  At  first  his  alarm  was 
great,  as  he  found  he  had  been  deserted  by  the 
people  from  whom  he  longed  to  escape ;  but  he 
found  his  aunt's  heavy  shawl  spread  over  him, 
and  he  knew  that  she  could  not  be  very  far  away. 

The  cart  had  been   drawn  up  close  to  a  little 


42  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

thatched  cottage,  which  comprised  under  the  same 
roof  a  grocer's  shop  and  a  public-house.  He  saw  a 
loaf  in  the  window  and  some  apples,  and  he  tried 
to  get  out  of  the  cart,  but  was  unable  to  do  so. 
A  blacksmith,  whose  smithy  stood  on  the  other 
side  of  the  road,  seeing  his  fruitless  efforts,  came  to 
him  and  lifted  him  down  ;  and  just  as  he  was 
beginning  hurriedly  to  tell  the  blacksmith  the  story 
of  his  wrongs,  his  aunt,  who  had  approached  him 
from  behind,  caught  his  arm  and  led  him  gently 
into  the  cottage.  He  had  there  some  potatoes 
and  buttermilk,  and  slept  on  a  settle  bed  by  the 
kitchen  fire  till  late  in  the  afternoon.  He  had  not 
been  permitted  to  speak  to  any  one,  and  no  one 
had  spoken  to  him. 

He  was  still  dreaming  of  home  when  he  was 
roughly  pulled  off  the  bed  and  told  to  mount  the 
cart  again.  Heavy  imprecations  fell  on  his  aunt, 
who  detained  him  a  little  to  wash  the  blood-stains 
off  his  face  and  make  him  ready  to  continue  the 
journey.  A  penny  bap  was  put  into  his  hand,  and 
he  was  allowed  to  buy  apples  with  the  few  pence 
that  had  been  put  by  his  brothers  and  sisters  into 
the  pockets  of  his  new  clothes  as  hansel.  "  It  was 
ten  years,"  said  old  Bronte,  "  before  I  fingered 
another  penny  that  I  could  call  my  own." 

The  bright  promise  of  the  morning  was  not 
fulfilled.  As  the  shades  of  evening  began  to  gather 
the  journey  was  continued  in  a  drizzling  rain.  A 


A   FEARFUL  JOURNEY  43 

bottle  of  fresh  straw  had  been  added  to  the  hard 
bed  on  which  little  Hugh  was  to  spend  the  night. 
Adapting  himself  to  his  circumstances,  he  arranged 
the  straw  under  the  cross-seat  on  which  his  uncle 
and  aunt  sat,  so  as  to  be  sheltered  from  the  rain. 
Then,  placing  his  heap  of  apples  and  the  bap  beside 
him,  he  settled  down  in  comparative  comfort  for 
the  night,  so  soon  does  the  human  animal  accom- 
modate itself  to  its  surroundings. 

On  the  coast  of  Syria  I  once  arranged  with  a 
ragged,  rascally-looking  Arab  for  a  row  in  his  boat. 
My  companion  was  a  Scotch  Hebrew  professor.  It 
was  a  balmy  afternoon,  and  we  enjoyed  and  pro- 
tracted our  outing.  We  talked  a  little  to  our 
Arab  in  Arabic,  and  much  about  him  of  a  not 
very  complimentary  character  in  our  own  tongue. 
I  happened  to  drop  some  sympathetic  words  re- 
garding the  .poor  wretch,  and  suddenly  his  tongue 
became  loosed  in  broad  Scotch,  and  he  told  us  his 
story.  It  was  very  simple. 

Twenty  years  before,  the  English  ship  on  which 
he  served  as  a  lad  had  been  wrecked  at  Alex- 
andretta,  on  the  northern  coast  of  Syria.  He 
swam  ashore,  lived  among  the  people  of  the  coast 
till  he  had  become  one  of  themselves,  and  at  the 
time  we  met  him  he  was  the  husband  of  a  common 
Arab  woman  and  the  father  of  a  dusky  progeny. 
He  was  content  with  his  squalid  existence,  and 
never  again  wished  to  see  his  native  heather. 


44  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

I  knew  a  lady  in  the  Syrian  desert,  the  devoted 
wife  of  a  petty  Arabian  sheikh.  She  drew  her 
blood  from  the  bluest  strain  in  England.  She  had 
gone  down  to  dinner  in  the  Palace  on  the  arm 
of  Wellington,  and  had  been  considered  the  belle 
and  beauty  of  the  Court.  She  had  been  wife  to 
an  English  Lord  Chancellor,  a  great  Governor- 
general  of  India,  and  had  moved  in  the  highest 
rank  of  the  society  of  her  time.  But  she  was 
content  and  happy  to  endure  the  privations  of 
Bedawi  life,  and  isolation  from  civilising  influences, 
for  the  society  of  a  husband  who  was  not  very 
clean  or  kind. 

Comparing  small  things  with  great,  we  need  not 
wonder,  then,  when  we  see  little  Hugh  Bronte 
arranging  his  straw  divan,  and  settling  down 
soberly  beside  his  frugal  repast.  His  couch  was 
his  castle  for  the  time. 

The  night  was  long,  the  rain  was  incessant  ;  the 
horse  stumbled  and  splashed  through  the  mud, 
and  the  harsh  uncle  varied  the  monotony  by  some- 
times whipping  the  horse  into  a  trot,  and  then 
swearing  at  it  when  it  did  trot.  By  ten  o'clock 
the  next  morning  a  large  village  was  reached  ; 
but  Hugh  Bronte  in  after-years  was  never  able  to 
identify  it,  nor  have  I  been  able  to  conjecture  after 
much  searching  its  probable  position. 

In  the  village  there  was  an  inn  of  considerable 
importance.  The  child  was  carried  stiff  and  cold 


A   FEARFUL  JOURNEY  45 

from  the  cart  to  a  little  room  in  the  inn,  in  which 
he  was  put  to  bed.  No  one  but  his  aunt  had  been 
allowed  to  come  near  him.  After  placing  some 
bread  and  milk  beside  him,  she  took  away  his 
clothes  and  locked  the  door  of  the  little  room. 

In  the  afternoon  she  returned,  bringing  with  her 
a  suit  of  bottle-green  corduroy  with  shining  brass 
buttons.  The  clothes  were  much  too  large  for  him, 
and  the  trousers  were  so  stiff  that  he  could  scarcely 
sit  down.  He  was  hurried  into  the  corduroys,  of 
which  he  hated  the  smell,  and  after  having  some 
more  bread  and  milk  the  journey  was  resumed.  He 
never  again  saw  his  own  warm,  woollen  garments, 
which  had  been  exchanged  for  the  corduroys  and 
a  horsecloth.  The  horse-cover  became  his  coverlet 
by  night,  and  beneath  it  he  slept  more  comfortably 
than  before  on  his  straw  couch. 

On  the  following  morning  at  an  early  hour, 
while  Hugh  was  still  asleep,  they  reached  another 
large  town.  As  usual  the  cart  was  drawn  up  at 
an  inn,  where  the  travellers  passed  the  day.  During 
the  day,  while  Welsh  was  out  in  the  town  and  his 
aunt  dozing  by  the  fire,  Hugh  slipped  quietly  to 
the  innkeeper,  and  tried  to  tell  him  the  story  of 
his  wrongs ;  but  the  man  could  not  comprehend 
wrhat  he  said,  and  he  could  not  understand  what 
the  man  said  owing  to  the  brogue.  The  child's 
earnestness  drew  a  little  crowd  round  him,  and  he 
was  just  beginning  to  make  himself  understood, 


46  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

when  the  uncle  returned  suddenly  and  whisked 
him  off  to  the  cart,  where  he  was  obliged  to  spend 
the  long  afternoon,  until  at  nightfall  they  resumed 
their  journey. 

He  heard  angry  words  between  his  uncle  and 
the  innkeeper,  but  no  deliverance  came,  and  his 
heart  once  more  sank  within  him.  He  passed 
another  miserable  night,  and  on  the  forenoon  of 
the  following  day  they  arrived  at  Drogheda. 

After  a  short  pause  at  Drogheda,  during  which 
he  was  not  permitted  to  descend  from  the  cart  or 
communicate  with  any  stranger,  the  journey  was 
resumed,  and  the  party  arrived  at  Welsh's  home 
on  the  banks  of  the  Boyne  late  in  the  afternoon. 

Such  is  the  story  of  Hugh  Bronte's  journey  from 
his  father's  home  to  Welsh's.  It  was  first  told  me 
by  my  old  tutor,  the  Rev.  William  McAllister, 
and  confirmed  subsequently  by  several  of  his 
friends  who  were  men  of  education  and  intelligence. 
I  was  careful  to  get  the  details  of  the  different 
nights'  march  as  fully  as  possible,  in  hopes  that 
they  might  give  some  clue  to  the  route.  By  four 
independent  narrators  the  account  was  repeated  to 
me.  The  narrations  differed  in  certain  details,  but 
all  were  agreed  on  the  main  incidents  as  I  have 
given  them.  I  have  omitted  several  striking 
incidents  of  the  journey  on  which  all  four  were  not 
agreed.  Even  in  details  the  narrators  did  not  differ 
greatly,  but  all  were  at  one  as  to  the  four  nights 


A   FEARFUL  JOURNEY  47 

spent  on  the  road,  the  villages  and  towns  passed 
through,  the  appearance  of  the  country  on  the 
first  morning  of  the  journey,  and  other  leading  facts. 

I  have  given  a  mere  outline  of  Hugh  Bronte's 
thrilling  tale,  without  any  attempt  to  reproduce 
his  style.  The  experience  of  the  boy  on  that 
dreadful  journey  was  told  by  the  man  with  dramatic 
power  and  pent-up  passion,  such  as  never  failed  to 
hold  his  listeners  spellbound. 

Nothing  was  wanting  to  give  colour  and  reality 
to  Hugh  Bronte's  eloquence.  He  spoke  of  the 
stunted  trees  on  the  wind-swept  mountains,  and 
ghostly  shadows  on  the  moon-bleached  plains. 
He  described  the  desolate  bogs  on  the  waysides, 
and  the  interminable  stretches  of  road  leading  over 
narrow  bridges  and  through  shallow  fords  ;  and 
sometimes  he  would  thrill  his  audience  by  a  de- 
scription of  the  heavens  on  fire  with  stars,  or  the 
autumn  stricken  into  gold  by  the  setting  sun. 
He  possessed  the  rare  faculty  of  seeing  as  well  as 
thinking  what  he  was  speaking  of.  He  made  his 
listeners  see  and  feel  as  well  as  hear. 

Mr.  McAllister  had  heard  most  of  the  orators 
of  his  time,  including  O'Connell  and  Cooke  and 
Chalmers,  but  no  man  ever  touched  or  roused  and 
thrilled  him  by  the  force  of  eloquence  as  old  Hugh 
Bronte  had  done. 

It  may  be  questioned  if  any  tale  ever  told 
by  Hugh  Bronte's  granddaughters  equalled  those 


48  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

which  he  narrated  in  wealth  of  imagination,  or 
picturesque  eloquence,  or  intensity  of  human  feel- 
ing, or  vividness  of  colouring,  or  immediate  effect. 
The  grandfather  had  few  of  the  cultured  literary 
touches  of  the  novelists,  but  he  was  generally  the 
hero  of  his  own  romances,  and  narrated  them  with 
a  rugged  pathos  and  ferocious  energy  which  went 
straight  to  the  heart,  but  cannot  be  transferred  to 
paper. 

Welsh  Bronte  travelled  by  night  partly  for  the 
sake  of  economy  in  saving  the  expenses  of  lodgings, 
but  more  especially  that  little  Hugh  should  see 
no  landmarks  by  which  his  footsteps  might  ever  be 
guided  home.  In  both  respects  he  was  thoroughly 
successful.  He  was  able  to  doze  all  day  long  in 
public-houses  without  charge  ;  and  Hugh,  though 
he  believed  he  had  come  from  the  south,  never  had 
the  slightest  idea  as  to  where  his  father's  house 
was  located. 

Do  the  incidents  of  the  journey  give  us  any 
clue  by  which  to  discover  the  region  where  Hugh 
Bronte's  father  lived  ?  The  journey  occupied  four 
whole  nights  of  an  average  of  from  thirteen  to 
fifteen  hours  each.  The  rate  of  progress  on  the 
bad  roads  would  not  much  exceed  two  and  a 
quarter  miles  per  hour,  and  the  whole  distance 
traversed  might  be  fairly  supposed  to  be  some- 
where about  a  hundred  or  a  hundred  and  twenty 
miles. 


A   FEARFUL  JOURNEY  49 

With  these  facts  in  view  I  spent  the  two  months 
of  my  undergraduate  holidays  in  trying  to  find 
the  early  home  of  Hugh  Bronte.  I  went  about 
my  work  dressed  in  the  ordinary  clothes  of  an 
Irish  peasant.  I  lived  with  the  people,  and  enjoyed 
their  hospitality  and  fun.  Everybody  was  willing 
to  aid  me  in  my  researches  after  a  lost  home  and 
friends,  but  with  every  assistance  I  could  find  no 
trace  or  tradition  of  a  Bronte  family  south  of  the 
Boyne.  I  did  not  then  altogether  abandon  my 
quest,  and  I  have  since  written  hundreds  of  letters 
on  the  subject  to  correspondents  in  various  parts 
of  Ireland.  But  unless  some  document,  now  un- 
known to  me,  comes  to  light,  the  early  home  of 
Hugh  Bronte  will  never  be  known.* 

What  is  of  more  importance  is  the  fact  that 
the  ancient  home  of  the  Brontes,  where  Hugh's 
grandfather — the  great-great-great-grandfather  of 
the  novelists — lived,  was  on  the  north  side  of  the 
river  Boyne,  between  Oldbridge  and  Navan,  not 
far  from  the  spot  where  William  of  Orange  won 
the  famous  battle  of  the  Boyne. 

Some  thirty-five  years  ago  the  place  where  the 
Bronte  house  once  stood  was  pointed  out  to  me. 
The  potato  blight  and  other  calamities  have  been 

*  It  is  quite  possible  I  may  have  been  on  the  wrong  track. 
Mr.  McCracken  assures  me  that  Hugh  Bronte  spoke  with  a 
distinctly  Scotch  accent.  His  journey,  after  all,  may  have 
been  from  the  north,  and  the  child  may  have  mistaken  the 
waters  of  a  lake  for  the  sea. 

4 


50  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

steadily  removing  landmarks  in  Ireland,  and  I 
fear  that  the  local  tradition  has  now  faded  from 
the  district. 

In  this  there  is  nothing  surprising  or  unusual. 
Few  families  in  Ireland  of  the  rank  of  the  Brontes 
could  trace  their  pedigree  to  the  sixth  or  seventh 
generation.*  That  the  ancestors  of  the  Brontes 
lived  on  the  banks  of  the  Boyne  six  or  seven 
generations  back  is  beyond  all  doubt.  Hugh's 
account  of  the  place  was  precise  and  definite,  and 
his  daughter  Alice  distinctly  remembered  the  aunt 
Mary,  Welsh's  widow,  coming  from  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Drogheda  to  visit  Hugh  and  his  family 
in  County  Down.  Indeed,  she  referred  to  the  fact, 
in  a  short  interview  in  1890  with  the  Rev.  J.  B. 
Lusk,  when  she  was  on  her  deathbed. 

*  With  the  exception  of  Alice,  with  whom  I  was  in  corres- 
pondence, directly  and  indirectly,  up  to  her  death,  none  of  the 
Irish  Brontes  knew  anything  of  the  early  history  of  the  family. 
I  visited  most  of  them,  and  the  vague  information  they  had  to 
communicate  was  merely  an  echo  from  the  English  biogra- 
phies. Even  Alice  mixed  up  different  events  in  a  way  some- 
times that  made  it  difficult  to  disentangle  them. 


CHAPTER   VII 

A   MISERABLE   HOME   . 

HUGH  BRONTE  arrived  at  his  uncle's  house 
hungry,  weary,  and  numbed  with  cold.  He 
was  also  suffering  acute  pain  from  the  incessant 
jolting  of  the  springless  cart  in  which  he  had  lain, 
and  from  his  uncle's  blows  and  shakings.  He  was 
a  little  mite  in  stiff  corduroys,  of  which  he  loathed 
the  smell  and  touch  ;  but  he  learned  to  be  less 
fastidious. 

On  his  arrival  his  uncle  had  a  short  conversation 
with  him,  with  a  view  to  a  right  understanding  as 
to  their  future  relations  and  duties. 

Seizing  his  little  nephew  and  ward  firmly  by  the 
two  shoulders,  and  looking  fiercely  in  his  face, 
Welsh  informed  him  that  his  father  was  a  mean 
and  black-hearted  scoundrel.  Welsh,  according  to 
his  own  account,  had  agreed  to  make  Hugh  his  heir, 
and  give  him  the  "  education  of  a  gentleman,"  and 
in  consideration  of  these  advantages  Hugh's  father 
had  promised  to  pay  Welsh  a  sum  of  .£50  ;  but  the 
spalpeen  and  deceiver  had  only  paid  £5,  and  Hugh 

51 


52  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

would  have  to  work  for  his  bread  and  go  without 
education.  These  grave  decisions  were  emphasised 
by  a  series  of  very  strong  words,  which  Hugh 
always  repeated,  but  which  my  reader  does  not  care 
to  hear.  Are  they  not  written  in  the  records  of 
Wuthering  Heights  ? 

There  was  present  at  this  family  interview  a 
tall,  gaunt,  half-naked  savage,  called  Gallagher,  who 
seemed  to  know  all  about  the  matter  under  dis- 
cussion, as  he  expressed  audible  approval  of  every- 
thing Welsh  said,  and  when  he  had  finished  called 
on  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  all  the  saints  to  blast 
Hugh's  father  and  protect  his  uncle.  Encouraged 
on  these  lines,  he  submitted  for  Hugh's  consideration 
the  utter  absurdity  of  a  boy  with  such  a  father 
hoping  for  happiness  here  or  for  heaven  hereafter, 
especially  as  he  would  have  all  the  blessed  saints 
against  him. 

This  sanctimonious  individual  was  the  steward  of 
Welsh's  house.  He  had  been  very  useful  to  Welsh 
as  a  spy  when  he  was  sub-agent  of  the  estate.  He 
would  mix  with  the  lowest  strata  of  the  people  at 
fairs  and  markets,  make  them  drunk,  and  extract 
their  secrets.  He  thus  succeeded  in  sounding 
depths  to  which  the  sub-agent  could  not  descend. 
He  also  frequented  dances,  wakes,  and  funerals  ; 
and  as  he  had  a  great  power  of  turning  on  the 
outward  signs  of  sympathy  and  sorrow,  he  became 
Welsh's  most  valuable  ally.  In  fact,  he  was  indis- 


A   MISERABLE  HOME  53 

pensable  to  the  office  in  the  successful  management 
of  the  estate. 

Hugh's  father  had  once  denounced  Gallagher  as 
a  spy  at  a  public  gathering,  and  he  was  ignomini- 
ously  ejected,  and  in  return  Gallagher  had  supplied 
the  evidence — false  evidence — which  led  to  the 
conviction  and  imprisonment  of  the  three  brothers. 
On  the  murder  of  the  agent  and  burning  of  the 
Bronte  house,  Welsh  and  his  spy  fell  together,  and 
they  continued  to  hold  together  as  master  and 
servant. 

Gallagher  had  been  of  service  to  Welsh  in  other 
ways.  He  was  the  associate  of  Meg,  and  had  aided 
her  in  the  schemes  which  led  to  Mary  Bronte 
becoming  Welsh's  wife.  He  was  present  with  Meg 
as  a  witness  in  the  plantation  on  that  fatal  night 
when  Mary  consented  to  wed  Welsh.  She  was 
given  to  understand  that  if  she  refused  her  shame 
would  be  trumpeted  all  over  the  land  by  Meg  and 
Gallagher  on  the  following  day. 

Gallagher  was  a  partner  with  Meg  in  the 
foundling  business,  and  they  had  more  effective 
ways  of  dealing  with  superfluous  children  than  have 
yet  been  discovered  by  our  modern  baby  farmers. 
The  children  were  supposed  to  be  carried  to  the 
Dublin  Foundling  Hospital  ;  but  no  questions  were 
asked  and  no  receipts  given,  and  the  guilty  parents 
were  only  too  well  pleased  that  their  offsprings 
should  go  "  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling." 


54 


THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 


Gallagher  and  Meg  knew  their  employers  well, 
and  acted  in  accordance  with  their  wishes.  The 
two  confederates  were  closely  bound  together  by 
their  trade  secret  and  by  the  common  danger  of 
exposure  ;  for  although  those  were  the  palmy  days 
of  landlord  "  law  and  order,"  it  was  always  possible 
that  some  meddlesome  magistrate  might  so  far 
deflect  the  law  from  its  primary  purpose — the 
extraction  of  rent — as  to  bring  it  to  bear  on  the 
wholesale  murder  of  bastards.  The  thing  feared 
came  to  pass,  and  Gallagher  and  Meg  were  trans- 
ported ;  but  it  came  out  in  the  evidence  that 
Welsh,  in  the  period  of  his  prosperity,  had  so 
taken  advantage  of  his  opportunities,  that  he  might 
have  had  a  houseful  of  heirs  but  for  the  friendly 
intervention  of  Meg  and  Gallagher. 

Gallagher  was  the  original  from  whom  Emily 
Bronte  drew  her  portrait  of  Joseph  in  Wuthering 
Heights.  He  was  one  of  Hugh  Bronte's  chief 
characters.  On  him  he  used  to  pour  out  the 
copious  vials  of  Bronte  satire,  scorn,  and  hatred. 
Everybody  who  knew  anything  of  Hugh  Bronte's 
stories  must  have  heard  of  Gallagher.  In  fact, 
the  name  became  of  common  use  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Ballynaskeagh  as  a  nickname  for 
objectionable  persons,  and  I  think  it  is  so  used 
still.  At  present  I  know  a  County  Down  family 
in  London  who  often  employ  the  sobriquet  in 
jest,  though  with  a  basis  of  seriousness.  To  my 


A   MISERABLE  HOME  55 

mind  it  is  just  as  certain  that  Joseph  is  the  lineal 
descendant  of  Gallagher  as  that  Heathcliffe  is 
modelled  on  Welsh.  In  neither  case  is  there 
room  for  reasonable  doubt. 

Joseph's  hypocrisy  is  of  the  stern  Protestant 
type,  Gallagher's  of  the  wily  Catholic  type. 
Joseph  raked  the  Bible  promises  to  himself,  and 
left  the  threatenings  to  his  enemies ;  Gallagher 
took  "  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  all  the  saints  "  into 
his  service,  and  arrayed  them  against  his  foes. 
Visitations  which  were  calamities  to  Gallagher  and 
his  friends  were  judgments  on  his  enemies.  Joseph, 
like  Gallagher,  used  language  of  unfathomable  and 
indefinite  virulency,  and  in  all  respects  he  follows 
the  outline  of  his  prototype,  but  he  is  not  the  very 
image  of  the  man. 

In  Emily  Bronte's  hands,  Joseph,  the  English 
villain,  is  less  selfish,  less  cunning,  less  criminal,  less 
dastardly  than  the  Irish.  Joseph,  the  ideal  creation, 
is  not  a  lovable  character,  but  he  is  less  hateful  than 
the  real  Gallagher.  It  was  to  the  companionship 
of  this  inhuman  monster  that  Welsh  committed 
his  little  nephew  and  ward. 

As  soon  as  Welsh  and  Gallagher  had  left  off 
speaking,  Hugh  looked  round  the  mansion  to 
which  he  had  become  presumptive  heir.  A  happy 
pig  with  a  large  and  happy  family  lay  in  one  side 
of  the  room  in  which  he  stood.  Smouldering 
ashes  on  a  hearth,  under  a  great  open  chimney, 


56  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

indicated  that  the  house  was  a  place  of  human 
habitation.  A  stack  of  peat  was  heaped  up  on 
the  other  side  of  the  fire  from  that  devoted  to  the 
rnother-pig  and  her  progeny.  A  broad,  square  bed- 
stead stood  in  the  end  of  the  room  farthest  from  the 
fire,  raised  about  a  foot  from  the  ground.  The  damp, 
uneven,  earthen  floor  was  unswept.  There  were  a 
few  chairs  upholstered  with  straw  ropes,  and  on 
the  backs  of  these  a  succession  of  hens  took  their 
places  in  turn,  preliminary  to  a  loftier  flight  to  the 
cross-beams  close  up  to  the  thatch.  It  was  a  low 
room,  so  they  had  not  to  make  a  great  effort  to 
reach  their  perches.  A  lean,  long-backed,  rough- 
haired/yellow  dog  stood  by  the  boy's  side  smelling 
him,  but  in  a  neutral  frame  of  mind,  and  showing 
no  signs  of  welcome. 

Hugh  had  heard  the  hard,  rasping  words  regard- 
ing his  father's  treachery,  and  about  his  own  duties 
and  prospects  ;  but  he  did  not  take  in  fully  the 
situation,  and  he  simply  by  way  of  reply  said, 
"  Are  you  going  home  soon  ?  " 

"  You  are  at  home  now,"  replied  his  uncle. 
"  This  is  the  only  home  you  shall  ever  know,  and 
you  are  beholden  to  me  for  it.  No  airs  here,  my 
fine  fellow  !  Your  father  was  glad  to  be  rid  of  you, 
and  this  is  the  gratitude  you  show  me  for  taking 
you  to  be  my  heir.  Get  to  bed  out  of  my  way, 
and  I'll  find  you  something  to  do  in  the  morning  to 
keep  you  from  becoming  too  great  for  the  position.'' 


A   MISERABLE  HOME  57 

But  in  the  morning  the  child  was  unable  to  leave 
the  hard,  damp  bed,  in  which  he  had  lain  down  with 
loathing.  He  had  been  obliged  to  lie  across  the 
foot  of  the  bed  at  his  uncle  and  aunt's  feet,  but  his 
slumbers  were  disturbed  by  the  grunting  pig,  and 
squealing  young,  which  seemed  to  keep  up  an 
incessant  struggle  and  contest  for  choice  places. 
There  were  also  two  cocks,  nearly  over  his  head, 
that  had  several  bouts  of  crowing  in  rivalry  during 
the  night,  the  hens  occasionally  expressing  approval. 

The  uncle  rose  early  to  let  out  the  hens  to 
find  the  early  worm,  and  the  great  mother-pig 
to  take  an  airing.  He  then  dragged  little  Hugh 
out  of  bed,  doubtless  that  he  might  get  early  into 
training  for  the  coming  responsibilities  of  heirship. 
But  the  child,  unable  to  stand,  tottered  on  to  the 
floor.  His  uncle  at  first  thought  him  shamming, 
but  fierce  imprecations  could  not  exorcise  fever 
and  delirium,  and  for  many  weeks  little  Hugh 
lingered  between  life  and  death. 

No  doctor  saw  him,  but  he  remembered  his  hair 
being  cut  off,  and  he  did  not  forget  the  unfailing 
two-milk  posset  with  which  his  aunt  kept  him 
supplied.  He  remained  weak  and  unable  to  go 
out  during  the  winter,  but  he  made  many  friends. 

The  pig  had  been  allowed  to  depart  as  soon  as 
she  was  considered  convalescent  and  competent 
to  manage  her  large  family.  The  rough  dog  had 
proved  a  warm  friend — dogs  were  always  steadfast 


58  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

friends  to  the  Brontes.  He  used  to  lie  across 
the  bed,  beside  the  child,  all  day  long,  licking  his 
face  and  hands,  and  waiting  with  patient  fidelity 
his  restoration  to  health.  At  night  he  would  lie 
on  the  bare  ground  by  the  bedside,  but  as  soon  as 
the  elders  had  vacated  the  bed  in  the  morning 
he  would  take  the  empty  place  beside  his  little 
friend. 

The  dog's  delight  seemed  to  know  no  bounds 
when  the  child  began  to  get  out  of  bed  for  a  few 
hours  daily.  He  would  make  various  kinds  of 
inarticulate  sounds  to  express  his  pent-up  feelings, 
and  cut  uncouth  capers  all  round,  sometimes  rush- 
ing outside  the  house  and  barking  furiously,  as  if  to 
decoy  the  invalid  beyond  the  threshold  into  the 
open  air.  Then  he  would  sit  with  him,  and  lie  with 
him  on  the  sheepskin  by  the  fire,  and  with  dog-like 
constancy  and  affection  watch  every  movement  of 
his  little  hero. 

And  the  child  in  return  loved  the  great  shaggy 
creature  with  all  the  strength  of  his  little  crushed 
heart.  Hugh  Bronte  used  to  say  that  at  first  he 
passionately  longed  for  death,  that  he  might  escape 
from  his  squalid  surroundings  and  from  his  tor- 
mentors ;  but  with  his  growing  love  for  the  dog 
he  earnestly  desired  to  live,  and  he  believed  that 
but  for  the  dog  he  should  have  died. 

He  also  came  to  long  for  the  crowing  of  the  cocks 
in  the  morning.  There  were  two  of  them  ;  one  a 


A   MISERABLE  HOME  59 

bantam,  and  the  other  a  great  barn-door  bird  with 
flaming  comb  and  splendid  tufts  of  feathers  like 
a  guardsman's  helmet.  The  great  cock  tried  to 
thrill  the  lady  hens  by  a  voice  that  should  have 
struck  terror  into  the  hearts  of  bantams  ;  but  the 
bantam  retorted  by  a  little  piping,  perliteful 
crow,  that  seemed  to  deprecate  the  vulgarity  of 
seeking  popularity  by  loud  and  pompous  ways. 

In  the  long,  weary  days  the  fowls  became  his 
attached  friends.  He  used  to  save  a  few  crumbs 
from  his  own  scanty  allowance,  and  they  would 
feed  from  his  hands  without  hurting  him.  Better 
still,  his  aunt  Mary  during  his  illness  conceived  a 
great  affection  for  him,  and  loved  him  as  if  he 
were  her  own  child.  When  Welsh  was  not  present 
she  would  let  him  have  an  egg,  or  a  little  fresh 
butter,  from  the  meskin  that  was  prepared  for  the 
market,  or,  what  was  much  more  prized,  a  cup  of 
peppermint-tea,  the  forerunner  of  the  universal 
beverage. 

Over  the  peppermint-tea  Aunt  Mary  became 
communicative,  and  then,  and  in  after-years,  she 
told  him  secretly  the  tragic  story  of  the  Bronte 
family.  It  brought  him  no  immediate  relief  at 
first,  but  in  after-years  it  was  a  great  source  of 
satisfaction  to  him  to  know  that  the  cowardly 
and  tyrannical  uncle  was  no  Bronte  at  all,  and  not 
even  an  Irishman. 

On    the   subject   of    Welsh's   nationality    Hugh 


60  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Bronte's  fiery  patriotism  was  wont  to  appear.  He 
would  denounce  the  foreigner  as  the  blighter  of  his 
life  and  the  curse  of  his  country.  The  denunciation 
of  the  foreign  element  was  always  productive  of 
mixed  sentiments  in  County  Down,  where  a  large 
proportion  of  the  people  were  descendants  of  either 
English  or  Scotch  settlers  ;  but  Hugh  Bronte's 
convictions  seemed  always  to  grow  more  decisive 
in  the  face  of  opposition,  and  from  the  crucible  of 
contradiction  his  words  flowed  like  red-hot  lava. 
His  aunt's  husband  had  been  a  dastardly  despot 
as  well  as  a  base-born  bully,  and  he  held  that  all 
foreigners  were  like  him. 

The  spring  came  early  that  year,  and  with  it 
health  and  vigour.  Hugh  revelled  in  the  fresh  air 
with  his  faithful  dog  Keeper.  His  aunt  had  told 
him  of  the  burning  of  the  old  Bronte  house.  He 
saw  the  extensive  ruins,  and  he  kept  away  as  much 
as  possible  from  Welsh's  inhabited  hovel,  which 
consisted  simply  of  one  of  the  large  rooms  with  a 
roof  thrown  over  the  charred  and  crumbling  walls. 
The  squalor  and  wretchedness  of  the  home  into 
which  so  many  things  crept  at  night,  compared 
with  the  ruins  of  the  house  in  which  his  father 
had  been  brought  up,  made  a  lasting  impression  on 
Hugh's  mind. 

But  he  was  not  long  left  to  such  reflections.  As 
soon  as  he  was  able  to  go  he  was  sent  to  herd  the 
cattle,  which  were  housed  at  night  in  other  ruined 


A    MISERABLE  HOME  61 

rooms  of  the  burnt  edifice.  Hugh's  duty  was  to 
prevent  the  cows  and  sheep  from  passing  over  a 
low  fence  from  their  pasture  to  growing  corn  on 
the  other  side  of  the  fence. 

The  days  were  long,  but  he  enjoyed  them. 
Keeper  was  a  famous  ratter,  and  there  was  much 
for  him  to  do  in  that  line  ;  but  in  his  laborious 
efforts  to  exterminate  the  rats  he  never  forgot 
his  higher  duties,  and  he  would  stop  in  the  heat 
and  excitement  of  an  ardent  hunt  to  head  off  any 
of  the  cattle  that  seemed  disposed  to  trespass  on 
forbidden  ground.  Keeper  sometimes  rewarded 
his  master  by  capturing  a  rabbit,  and  then  there 
would  be  a  feast  for  both  boy  and  dog. 

Emily  Bronte's  love  for  her  dog,  which  was 
actually  called  "  Keeper,"  was  a  weak  platonic 
affair,  a  girlish  whim  or  lingering  family  tradition, 
compared  with  the  deep,  strong  tie  of  interest  and 
affection  that  bound  the  desolate  boy  and  friendless 
dog  to  one  another.  Keeper  had  at  first  scanned 
the  newly  arrived  child  with  a  critical  eye,  and  as  a 
kind  of  rival  had  given  him  a  cold  welcome  ;  but 
he  had  watched  by  him  in  sickness  as  only  a  dog 
could,  and  adapted  himself  to  every  mood  of  his 
returning  strength  and  growing  spirit,  never  be- 
coming too  buoyant  or  boisterous  until  his  health 
was  completely  restored.  It  was  an  affection  based 
on  common  interests  and  mutual  esteem,  and 
required  no  treaty  or  covenant  to  render  it  binding. 


62  THE  BRONTES   IN  IRELAND 

The  dog  for  years  never  lost  sight  of  his  master. 
Absence  was  not  needed  to  make  the  heart  grow 
fonder.  He  lay  close  to  him  at  night,  dreaming  of 
happy  morrows,  and  awoke  to  joy  in  his  master's 
love  and  fellowship. 

When  Keeper  received  a  kick,  as  he  often  did, 
the  child  showed  sullen  resentment,  at  the  risk  of 
being  treated  in  the  same  humane  fashion  himself  ; 
and  when  little  Bronte  was  being  scolded  or  beaten 
by  Welsh  or  Gallagher,  which  was  a  matter  of 
almost  daily  occurrence,  the  dog  showed  dangerous 
signs  of  springing  at  the  throat  of  the  common 
enemy. 

In  no  land  has  attachment  to  home  so  firm  a 
grip  of  the  heart  as  in  Ireland.  Hugh  Bronte 
was  a  mere  child  when  he  passed  from  the  light  of 
his  father's  home  into  the  darkness  of  night  and 
servitude  ;  but  his  heart  never  ceased  to  ache  for 
the  home  of  his  childhood,  and  the  friends  he  had 
lost.  He  used  to  watch  every  well-dressed  man 
that  appeared  on  the  road  passing  the  farm,  in 
hope  that  he  might  be  his  father  and  deliverer,  but 
his  hopes  were  always  blighted,  as  the  traveller 
passed  by  on  his  own  errand.  He  often  started  at 
night  in  bed,  believing  that  he  had  heard  familiar 
voices  at  the  door  ;  but  the  voices  were  not  repeated 
to  his  waking  ears. 

Year  followed  year  in  slow  procession  and  ever- 
varying  form.  Now  it  passed  clad  in  the  virgin 


A    MISERABLE  HOME  63 

robes  of  spring,  accompanied  by  the  joyous  min- 
strelsy of  birds  ;  now  decked  in  the  bridal  array 
of  autumn,  russet  and  gold,  with  yellow  grain  and 
rosy  apples ;  and  now  it  settled  in  the  snowy 
shroud  of  death.  Each  season  had  its  charms 
for  the  Bronte  child.  The  silent  awaking  of  spring, 
the  storm-bent  trees  roaring  like  a  sea  rushing 
on  the  beach,  the  brattling  thunder  and  blue  skies, 
the  lashing  hail  and  silent  snow,  seemed  a  part 
of  the  boy  shut  out  to  their  companionship.  He 
grew  up  in  solitariness,  and  looked  on  the  elements 
as  friends  ;  but  his  heart  never  ceased  to  yearn 
for  the  lost  friends  of  his  old  home. 

His  corduroy  suit  soon  became  too  small,  but 
it  was  pieced  and  patched  until  the  original  had 
all  been  supplanted.  When  his  boots  became 
unwearable  he  was  obliged  to  go  barefooted. 
There  was  no  comb,  and  little  soap,  among  the 
domestic  arrangements  of  his  uncle's  home  ;  but 
the  boy  enjoyed  his  rough,  free  life,  revelling  in 
unkempt  and  unwashed  nature.  His  highest  enjoy- 
ment was  to  be  away  with  his  dog,  beyond  the 
espionage  of  Gallagher  and  the  rasping  blasphemy 
of  Welsh.  But  his  idle  days  with  Keeper  among 
the  bees  in  the  clover  soon  gave  place  to  sterner 
duties.  He  had  to  gather  potatoes  after  the 
diggers  in  sleet  and  rain,  collect  stones  off  the 
fields  in  winter  to  drain  bog-land,  take  his  part 
in  all  the  drudgery  of  an  ill-cultivated  farm  from 


64  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

sunrise  to  sunset,  and  then  thresh  and  winnow 
grain  in  the  barn  till  near  midnight 

He  had  grown  too  big  to  sleep  across  the  bed 
at  the  feet  of  his  uncle  and  aunt,  and  he  had  to 
lie  on  a  sack  of  chaff  in  the  half-roofed  barn.  His 
uncle  hated  him  with  a  fierce  and  bitter  hatred. 
In  fact,  he  never  saw  his  uncle's  face  but  it  was 
ugly  with  anger,  or  heard  his  voice  except  in 
accents  of  reproach  ;  and  he  had  come  to  expect 
nothing  else,  for  his  uncle  once  told  him  he  could 
never  beat  him  when  he  did  not  deserve  it,  for 
like  a  goat  he  was  always  going  to  mischief  or 
coming  from  it. 

Hugh  had  no  one  but  Gallagher  to  whom  he 
could  speak  during  his  working  hours,  and  he 
found  the  cunning  malignity  of  Gallagher  harder 
to  endure  than  the  harsh  cruelty  of  his  uncle. 
He  always  felt  the  eye  and  shadow  of  the  spy 
upon  him.  The  boy's  clear  instinct  told  him 
Gallagher  was  a  bad  man,  but  sometimes  the 
pent-up  heart  would  overflow,  and  the  sealed  lips 
babble  to  the  one  human  being  near  him  ;  and 
then  Gallagher  would  feign  sympathy  and  extract 
from  the  boy  all  his  secrets,  even  those  that  his 
aunt  had  communicated  to  him  in  confidence. 
He  would  also  lead  him  on  by  the  memory  of 
cruel  wrongs  to  give  expression  to  the  passionate 
resentment  that  slumbered  in  him. 

When    Gallagher   had   got   all  the   secrets  that 


A   MISERABLE  HOME  65 

were  in  the  boy's  heart  he  would  denounce  him 
to  his  uncle,  setting  forth  each  item  in  the  manner 
that  would  best  stir  up  his  cruelty.  Sometimes 
Gallagher  would  mock  and  jeer  at  the  rags  and 
destitute  condition  of  the  boy,  and  tell  him  that 
all  his  evils  came  upon  him  from  the  blessed  saints 
and  because  of  his  father's  sins,  and  he  would 
assure  him  that  the  devil  would  carry  him  away 
from  the  barn  some  night,  as  he  had  often  taken 
bad  men's  sons. 

Hugh  was  not  much  alarmed  by  day  at  the 
prospect  of  satanic  visitations,  but  he  used  to  lie 
awake  at  night  in  the  utmost  terror  of  the  fiend. 
He  used  to  cover  his  head  for  fear  of  seeing  him, 
and  when  he  slept  he  dreamt  of  being  chased  and 
carried  off  by  demons. 

Owing  to  Gallagher's  words  the  peaceful  nights, 
in  which  he  used  to  forget  his  griefs,  became  more 
dreaded  by  him  than  the  day. 

It  is  very  probable  that  Hugh  may  have  con- 
veyed to  his  sons  something  of  his  own  early  vivid 
conceptions  of  a  personal  devil,  for,  as  we  shall  see, 
one  of  them  used  to  go  forth  to  actual  physical 
conflict  with  the  fiend. 

Gallagher  used  to  drive  Hugh  almost  wild  by 
telling  him  stories  of  the  beatings  he  had  adminis- 
tered to  his  father  when  they  were  both  boys,  the 
facts  having  been  quite  the  other  way  ;  and  indeed 
the  cruelties  practised  on  the  boy  were  Gallagher's 

5 


66  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

base  revenge  for  the  whippings  that  Hugh's  father 
used  to  administer  to  him. 

Gallagher  employed  every  means  that  his  cunning 
and  malignity  could  devise  to  render  the  boy's  life 
miserable.  He  would  purloin  eggs,  and  break  the 
farming  tools,  and  maim  the  cattle,  in  order  to  have 
him  beaten  by  his  uncle.  And  he  always  managed 
to  be  present  when  Hugh  was  beaten,  and  he 
would  on  these  occasions  assure  him  that  the 
punishment  came  to  him  from  "  the  blessed  saints." 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE   CAPTIVE   ESCAPES 

THE  uncle  was  an  ill-tempered,  ill-conditioned 
man  in  all  transactions  with  strangers  as  well 
as  in  his  domestic  relations.  In  fairs  and  markets 
he  had  many  quarrels,  and  often  came  home  bear- 
ing marks  of  violence.  He  had  a  standing  quarrel 
with  a  neighbour  about  a  piece  of  exhausted  bog. 

Nothing  in  Ireland  is  supposed  to  test  a  man's 
honesty  like  a  piece  of  waste  land  lying  contiguous 
to  his  own  land.  "  If  a  man  escape  with  honour  as 
a  trustee,  try  him  with  a  bit  of  bog,"  is  an  Irish 
proverb.  The  temptation  had  come  in  Welsh's 
way  when  he  was  a  sub-agent  with  great  facilities 
for  helping  himself  at  the  expense  of  the  tenants. 
He  had  robbed  the  Brontes  of  their  farm, — why 
should  he  hesitate  to  add  a  slice  of  bog  to  it  ?  Of 
course  he  had  more  land  than  he  could  cultivate, 
but  his  neighbour's  bog  was  just  needed  to  round 
off  his  ill-gotten  possession. 

The  owner  was  known  by  the  office  as  a  foolish 
and  objectionable  tenant,  who  actually  had  the 

67 


68  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

audacity  to  vote  at  elections  contrary  to  the  con- 
scientious convictions  of  his  landlord,  and  under 
the  circumstances  the  agent  would  be  easily  pre- 
vailed upon  to  let  Welsh  have  what  he  wanted. 
There  was  not  likely  to  be  any  trouble  over  the 
matter,  for  the  bog  was  of  little  use  to  any- 
body ;  all  the  turf  had  been  removed,  and  only 
a  swamp  remained  covered  with  star-grass,  and 
tenanted  by  water-hens,  coots,  and  snipe. 

The  agent  offered  to  let  Welsh  have  his  neigh- 
bour's bog  for  a  consideration.  Welsh  paid  the 
sum,  but  the  tenant,  being  a  cantankerous  person, 
did  not  fall  in  pleasantly  with  the  arrangement. 
Difficulties  of  a  magnitude  out  of  all  proportion  to 
the  insignificance  of  the  matter  were  raised. 

The  plundering  of  the  Brontes  had  been  watched 
by  the  neighbours  with  sullen  indignation,  but 
when  it  became  known  that  the  objectionable  sub- 
agent  was  about  to  lay  hands  on  the  property  of 
another  farmer  the  smouldering  fire  burst  into 
conflagration.  Attempts  to  transfer  the  bog  were 
frustrated,  and  while  matters  were  in  this  un- 
satisfactory condition  the  agent  was  murdered  and 
Welsh's  house  was  burned  to  the  ground. 

The  ownership  of  the  bog  remained  in  that 
doubtful  condition  so  profitable  to  those  in 
authority.  Welsh  had  lost  his  official  position,  and 
for  years  the  new  agent  gave  fair  promises  to  both 
claimants  and  accepted  presents  from  both.  The 


THE  CAPTIVE  ESCAPES  69 

landlord  would  of  course  decide  the  matter,  but 
he  was  always  in  foreign  parts,  and  could  not  be 
troubled  with  such  a  small  detail  till  he  returned 
to  Ireland. 

Meanwhile  both  paid  rent  for  the  bog  and 
fought  for  the  useless  star-grass.  Welsh  was 
persistent  in  maintaining  his  claim  to  the  coveted 
possession.  He  would  wade  into  the  swamp  up 
to  his  waist  to  cut  the  sapless  star-grass,  and  one 
day,  after  many  hot  words  with  the  owner,  blows 
ensued,  and  he  was  badly  beaten. 

He  called  on  Hugh,  who  was  then  a  large  boy 
of  fifteen,  to  help  ;  but  he  called  in  vain,  for  Hugh 
had  listened  to  a  full  and  detailed  account  of  his 
uncle's  crimes  before  the  battle  began.  He  was 
accused  to  his  teeth  of  murdering  old  Bronte  for 
his  money,  and  betraying  his  daughter  in  order  to 
rob  the  family  of  their  estate.  The  misery  he  had 
brought  to  many  homes  was  clearly  set  forth,  and 
in  Welsh's  attempt  to  take  possession  of  his  neigh- 
bour's property  Hugh  believed  that  he  was  utterly 
in  the  wrong,  and  deserved  the  beating  he  received  ; 
besides,  the  neighbour  (whose  name  has  escaped 
me)  had  always  treated  Hugh  kindly,  and  on 
several  occasions  had  shared  with  him  the  collation 
of  bread  and  milk  that  had  been  brought  to  him 
in  the  fields  in  the  afternoon. 

This  battle  led  to  important  issues.  The  uncle 
was  carried  home,  bruised  and  bleeding,  by 


70  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Gallagher  and  Hugh  and  put  to  bed.  On  the 
following  morning  he  sent  for  Hugh.  In  a 
choking  passion  he  demanded  why  he  had  not 
helped  him  in  the  fight  Hugh  replied  that  he 
considered  his  uncle  was  in  the  wrong,  but  that 
in  any  case  it  would  have  been  unfair  for  him  to 
have  interfered. 

The  uncle  stormed  as  usual,  but  was  unable  to 
get  out  of  bed  to  chastise  his  nephew.  Hugh  now 
found  an  opportunity  that  he  had  long  been 
waiting  for  to  press  deferred  claims. 

He  reminded  his  uncle  of  the  false  promises  he 
had  made  to  his  parents  and  himself  when  taking 
him  from  his  home ;  of  his  failure  to  send  him  to 
school,  or  even  to  provide  him  with  clothes  to 
wear  ;  and  he  reproached  him  with  the  fiendish 
manner  in  which  he  had  always  treated  him.  He 
ended  his  harangue  by  a  fierce  demand  that  he 
would  let  him  return  home,  or  else  that  he  would 
provide  him  with  clothes  and  send  him  to  school. 

Hugh,  having  found  the  use  of  his  tongue  in  his 
uncle's  presence,  pleaded  his  case  with  a  courage 
that  surprised  himself.  He  told  his  uncle  that  he 
was  a  false  and  cruel  bully,  and  that  he  thoroughly 
deserved  the  beating  at  the  hands  of  the  man  he 
had  tried  to  rob  ;  and  then,  carried  away  by  his 
rising  passion,  he  told  him  he  knew  he  was  not  a 
true  Bronte,  but  a  gutter-monster  who  had  stolen 
the  name ;  he  defiantly  added  that  he  hoped 


THE  CAPTIVE  ESCAPES  71 

before  long  to  be  able  to  avenge  his  ancestors 
for  the  desecration  of  their  name  by  thrashing  him 
himself. 

Having  delivered  this  speech,  Hugh  became 
conscious  that  another  crisis  in  his  life  had  arrived. 
Even  the  chaff  bed  in  the  half-roofed  barn  would 
cease  to  be  for  him.  His  uncle's  house  was  no 
longer  childless.  A  son  and  heir  had  come  on  the 
scene  a  twelvemonth  before,  and  Hugh  knew  he 
had  nothing  to  expect  but  the  same  harsh  treat- 
ment either  in  the  present  or  the  future.  He  could 
not  even  hope,  in  the  event  of  his  uncle's  death,  to 
inherit  the  old  Bronte  home  and  restore  its  fallen 
fortunes,  for  a  legal  heir  had  arrived  and  was  well 
in  possession.  His  uncle  also  had  promised  to 
punish  him  once  for  all  as  soon  as  he  got  well. 
A  severe  beating  was  his  immediate  prospect,  for 
Welsh  seldom  failed  in  carrying  out  his  evil 
promises. 

In  a  few  days  the  uncle  was  out  of  bed  and  able 
to  move  about,  his  head  wrapped  in  bandages  and 
his  two  eyes  draped  in  mourning.  As  he  grew 
stronger  he  fixed  the  day  on  which  he  would 
chastise  his  nephew.  Hugh  saw  that  the  time  had 
come  for  him  to  shift  for  himself.  He  first  resolved 
to  fight  his  uncle,  but  on  consideration  he  concluded 
that  even  if  he  should  be  victorious,  victory  would 
only  make  his  position  in  the  house  more  un- 
endurable. Then  he  resolved  on  flight ;  but  where 


72  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

could  he  fly  ?  He  would  certainly  be  followed  and 
brought  back,  and  then  his  state  with  his  uncle 
would  be  worse  than  ever. 

Besides,  he  was  almost  naked,  and  the  few 
rags  that  hung  around  him  left  his  body  visible 
at  many  points.  He  could  not  consult  Gallagher 
in  his  emergency,  for  during  the  suspense  he 
never  ceased  to  keep  him  in  mind  of  his  coming 
chastisement,  and  to  assure  him  that  it  was  the  will 
of  the  saints  that  he  should  suffer  for  his  father's 
sins.  Keeper  was  his  sole  friend,  but  to  escape 
with  Keeper  would  lead  to  certain  discovery. 

Hugh  was  now  in  a  state  of  rebellion,  and  in  his 
desperation  he  went  to  his  uncle's  enemy. 

People  in  their  death-and-life  struggle  for  free- 
dom do  not  scrutinise  too  closely  the  credentials 
of  those  willing  to  assist  them. 

Hugh's  neutrality  during  the  battle  must  have 
commended  him  to  the  enemy,  who  indeed  owed 
him  something  for  not  joining  in  the  fight  at  a 
critical  moment,  when  by  stone  or  stick  he  might 
have  turned  the  fortune  of  war  in  his  uncle's 
favour.  He  told  his  uncle's  chastiser  the  full  tale 
of  his  sorrows,  and  found  him  a  sympathising  and 
resourceful  ally. 

The  day  on  which  Hugh  was  to  get  his  great 
beating  arrived.  Everybody  except  Gallagher 
awaited  it  in  gloomy  silence  ;  even  Keeper  seemed 
to  know  what  was  coming.  The  uncle  had  pro- 


THE  CAPTIVE  ESCAPES  73 

vided  himself  with  a  stout  hazel  rod,  which  he 
playfully  called  "the  tickler."  Aunt  Mary's  eyes 
were,  as  usual,  red  with  weeping. 

Preparation  was  made  deliberately,  and  the 
chastisement  was  to  be  administered  when  the 
cattle  were  brought  home  at  midday.  Hugh  and 
Gallagher  spent  that  morning  weeding  in  a  field 
of  oats,  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  farm.  Hugh 
was  silent ;  but  Gallagher  was  loquacious  and 
exasperating.  He  devoted  the  whole  morning  to 
jeers  and  taunts  and  mockery. 

As  the  hour  arrived  for  Hugh  to  go  for  the  cows, 
Gallagher  surpassed  all  his  previous  brutality  by 
telling  him  that  he  had  once  been  his  mother's 
lover.  He  was  proceeding  to  develop  his  false  but 
cruel  tale,  when  Hugh,  stung  to  the  quick,  and 
blind  with  passion,  sprang  upon  his  mother's 
defamer  like  a  tiger.  There  was  a  short,  fierce 
struggle,  and  Hugh  had  his  tormentor  on  the 
ground,  and  was  beating  his  face  into  a  jelly,  while 
at  the  same  time  Keeper  was  engaged  in  tearing 
the  ruffian's  clothes  into  shreds. 

Hugh's  fury  cooled  when  Gallagher  no  longer 
resisted,  and  throwing  his  tliistle-hooks  on  the  top 
of  him  as  he  lay  prostrate  in  the  corn,  he  walked 
into  the  house.  He  bade  his  aunt,  who  was  baking 
bread,  good-bye,  kissed  the  baby,  and  then  left  to 
bring  home  the  cattle  to  be  milked. 

Keeper,  who  had  laid  aside  his  melancholy  in 


74  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

the  encounter  with  Gallagher,  responded  to  his 
master's  whistle,  and  ran  round  him  in  wide  circles 
barking  and  gambolling  as  if  to  keep  his  spirits  up. 
As  Hugh  turned  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  old 
Bronte  house,  he  saw  Gallagher  approaching  Welsh, 
who  was  waiting  near  the  cowshed,  evidently  enjoy- 
ing the  pleasures  of  the  imagination. 

The  cattle  were  grazing  on  the  banks  of  the 
Boyne,  near  the  spot  where  a  wing  of  William's 
army  crossed,  on  that  era-making  day,  in  1690. 
Hugh  proceeded  to  the  river,  and  deliberately 
divested  himself  of  his  rags  preparatory  to  a  plunge, 
as  was  his  wont.  He  laid  his  tattered  garments  in 
a  heap,  and  told  Keeper  to  lie  down  upon  them. 
Then,  throwing  himself  down  naked  beside  his 
faithful  friend,  he  took  him  in  his  arms  and  kissed 
him  again  and  again,  and  starting  up  with  a  sob 
he  plunged  headlong  into  the  river. 

The  clothes  were  placed  in  a  little  hollow  behind 
a  ridge,  from  which  Keeper  could  not  see  his  master 
enter  the  water,  or  mark  the  direction  in  which 
he  had  gone. 

Hugh  swam  swiftly  down  the  river.  It  was  a 
swim  for  life.  The  current  soon  carried  him  oppo- 
site the  farm  of  his  uncle's  enemy,  who  awaited 
his  approach  in  a  clump  of  willows  by  the  water's 
edge.  He  had  brought  with  him  an  improvised 
suit  of  clothes  to  further  the  boy's  escape.  The 
pockets  of  the  coat  were  stuffed  with  oat-bread, 


THE  CAPTIVE  ESCAPES  75 

and  there  were  a  few  pence  in  the  pockets  of  the 
trousers.  Hugh  hurried  on  the  garments,  which 
were  much  too  large  for  him,  and  thrust  his  feet, 
the  first  time  for  seven  years,  into  a  pair  of  boots, 
and  with  a  heart  full  of  gratitude  to  his  helper, 
and  a  final  squeeze  of  his  hand,  unaccompanied 
by  words  from  either,  Hugh  Bronte,  about  fifteen 
years  old,  started  on  his  race  for  life  and  freedom. 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE   FLIGHT   AND   REFUGE 

WE  have  now  reached  more  solid  ground  in 
the  life  of  Hugh  Bronte,  and  from  this  point 
onward  his  career,  and  that  of  his  descendants,  lie 
before  us  within  well-defined  geographical  limits. 

With  glad  heart  and  buoyant  spirits  Hugh  sped 
forward  on  the  road  to  Dunleer,  which  town  he 
passed  through  without  pausing,  and  continuing 
his  flight  struck  straight  for  Castlebellingham.  To 
his  latest  days  he  spoke  of  the  intoxication  of  joy 
with  which  he  almost  flew  along  the  road,  a  boot 
in  either  hand.  He  did  not  know  where  the  road 
led  to,  or  whither  he  was  going ;  but  he  believed 
there  was  a  city  of  refuge  somewhere  before,  and 
his  pace  was  quickened  by  the  lurking  fear  that 
the  avenger  might  be  on  his  heels. 

As  he  approached  Castlebellingham  he  heard 
a  jaunting-car  coming  after  him.  He  hid  behind 
the  fence  till  it  had  passed.  It  was  laden  with 
policemen,  but  in  the  summer  evening  light  he 

eould  see  that  his  uncle  was    not  on  the  car. 

76 


THE  FLIGHT  AND  REFUGE  77 

He  reached  Dundalk  at  an  early  hour,  and  after 
a  short  sleep  in  the  shelter  of  a  hayrick,  continued 
his  journey,  not  by  the  public  road,  for  freedom  was 
too  sweet  to  run  any  risks  of  being  overtaken,  but 
eastward  through  level  fields,  along  the  shore,  where 
now  runs  the  Dundalk  and  Greenore  Railway.  In 
a  small  public-house  he  was  able  to  spend  his 
last  copper  on  a  little  food,  and  then  he  started  for 
Carlingford,  which  he  heard  of  from  the  publican 
as  an  important  town  behind  the  mountain. 

When  he  had  wandered  by  the  shore  for  a  couple 
of  hours,  he  saw  smoke  rising  on  his  left,  and  he 
turned  inland  from  the  sea  and  came  upon  lime- 
kilns at  a  place  called  Mount  Pleasant.  These 
kilns  came  to  be  known  as  Swift  McNeil's,  and 
people  went  from  great  distances  to  purchase  lime 
as  well  for  agriculture  as  for  building  purposes. 

When  Hugh  arrived  at  the  kilns  there  were 
thirty  or  forty  carts  from  Down,  Armagh,  and  Louth 
waiting  for  their  loads,  and  there  were  not  enough 
hands  employed  to  keep  up  the  supply.  Lime- 
stone had  to  be  quarried  and  wheeled  to  the  kilns, 
then  broken,  and  thrown  in  at  the  top  with  layers 
of  coal.  After  burning  for  a  time,  the  lime  was 
drawn  out  from  the  eye  of  the  kiln  into  shallow 
barrels  and  emptied  into  carts,  the  price  being  so 
much  per  barrel. 

Here  Hugh  Bronte  found  his  first  job,  and 
regular  remuneration  for  his  free  labour.  In  a 


78  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

short  time  he  had  earned  enough  money  to  provide 
himself  with  a  complete  suit  of  clothes,  the  first  he 
had  had  since  he  was  six  years  of  age,  and  he 
had  now  reached  sixteen.  His  wages  more  than 
sufficed  for  his  wants,  and  he  had  a  great  deal 
to  spare  for  personal  adornment.  Being  steady 
and  much  better  dressed  than  the  other  workers, 
he  was  advanced  to  the  responsible  position  of 
overseer. 

Hugh  became  a  favourite  with  the  people  who 
came  for  lime,  as  well  as  with  his  employers. 
Among  the  most  regular  customers  were  the  Todds 
and  the  McAllisters  of  Ballynaskeagh  and  Glascar 
in  County  Down.  Their  servants  were  often  accom- 
panied by  a  youth  called  McClory,  who  drove  his 
own  cart.  McClory  and  Bronte,  who  were  about 
the  same  age,  resembled  each  other  in  the  fiery 
colour  of  their  hair.  They  became  fast  friends, 
and  it  was  arranged  that  Bronte  should  visit 
McClory  in  County  Down  during  the  Christmas 
holidays. 


CHAPTER   X 

LOVE   AT   FIRST    SIGHT 

THE  visit  to  McClory's  house  in  County  Down 
was  another  momentous  step  in  the  life  of 
Hugh  Bronte.  He  had  shaken  off  the  nightmare 
of  cruel  slavery.  His  work,  mostly  in  the  open  air, 
suited  him.  He  was  well  paid,  had  good  food  and 
clothing,  and  in  two  years  the  starved  and  ragged 
boy  had  become  a  large,  handsome,  well-dressed 
man.  Like  most  handsome  people,  Hugh  knew 
that  he  was  handsome,  and  the  resources  of  Dundalk 
were  taxed  in  those  days  to  the  utmost  to  set  off 
to  perfection  his  manly  and  stately  figure. 

On  Christmas  Eve  Hugh  Bronte  drove  up 
furiously  in  a  Newry  gig  to  the  house  of  McClory 
in  Ballynaskeagh.  He  was  becoming  a  somewhat 
vain  man,  and  fond  of  admiration  ;  and  no  doubt,  as 
he  approached  McClory's  thatched  cottage,  with  his 
pockets  full  of  money,  and  with  the  self-confidence 
which  prosperity  breeds,  he  meant  to  flutter  the 
house  with  his  magnificence. 

But  a  surprise  was  in  store  for  him.  The  cottage 
79 


8o  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

door  was  opened  in  response  to  his  somewhat 
boisterous  knock  by  a  young  woman  of  dazzling 
beauty.  Hugh  Bronte,  previous  to  his  flight,  had 
seen  few  women  except  his  aunt  Mary,  and  in  the 
days  of  his  freedom  he  had  become  acquainted 
only  with  lodging-house  keepers,  and  County  Louth 
women,  who  carried  their  fowls  and  eggs  to 
Dundalk  fairs  and  markets.  He  had  scarcely  ever 
seen  a  comely  girl,  and  never  in  his  life  any  one 
who  had  any  attractions  for  him. 

The  simply  dressed,  artless  girl  who  opened  the 
door  was  probably  the  prettiest  girl  in  County 
Down  at  the  time.  On  this  point  there  is  absolute 
unanimity  in  all  the  statements  that  have  reached 
me.  The  words  "  Irish  beauty  and  pure  Celt  "  have 
often  been  used  in  describing  her. 

Her  hair,  which  hung  in  a  profusion  of  ringlets 
round  her  shoulders,  was  luminous  gold.  Her  fore- 
head was  Parian  marble.  Her  evenly  set  teeth 
were  lustrous  pearls,  and  the  roses  of  health 
glowed  on  her  cheeks.  She  had  the  long  dark- 
brown  eyelashes  that  in  Ireland  so  often  accom- 
pany golden  hair,  and  her  deep  hazel  eyes  had 
the  violet  tint  and  melting  expression  which  in 
a  diluted  form  descended  to  her  granddaughters, 
and  made  the  plain  and  irregular  features  of  the 
Bronte  girls  really  attractive.  The  eyes  also  con- 
tained the  lambent  fire  that  Mrs.  Gaskell  noticed 
in  Charlotte's  eyes,  ready  to  flash  indignation  and 


LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT  81 

scorn.  She  had  a  tall  and  stately  figure,  with  head 
well  poised  above  a  graceful  neck  and  well-formed 
bust  ;  but  she  did  not  communicate  these  graces 
of  form  to  her  granddaughters.  There  are  people 
still  living  who  remember  the  stately  old  woman 
"  Ayles  "  Bronte,  as  she  was  called  by  her  neighbours 
in  her  old  age. 

Hugh  Bronte  was  completely  unmanned  by 
the  radiant  beauty  of  the  simple  country  girl  who 
appeared  before  him.  He  stood  awkwardly  staring 
at  her  with  his  mouth  open,  fumbling  with  his  hat, 
and  trying  in  vain  to  say  something.  At  last  he 
stammered  out  a  question  about  Mr.  McClory,  and 
the  girl,  who  was  Alice  McClory,  told  him  that  her 
brother  would  soon  be  home,  and  invited  him  into 
the  house. 

He  entered  blushing  and  feeling  uncomfortable, 
but  the  unaffected  simplicity  of  Alice  McClory's 
manner  soon  put  him  at  his  ease,  and  before  the 
brother  Patrick,  known  afterwards  as  "  Red  Paddy," 
had  returned  home  Hugh  was  madly  and  hopelessly 
in  love  with  his  sister. 

Like  his  son  the  Rev.  Patrick  Bronte  in  England, 
and  like  the  Irish  curate  who  proposed  marriage  to 
Charlotte  on  the  strength  of  one  night's  acquaint- 
ance, Hugh,  dazzled  by  beauty  and  blinded  by 
love,  declared  his  passion  before  he  had  discovered 
any  signs  of  mutual  liking,  or  had  any  evidence 
that  his  advances  would  be  agreeable. 

6 


82  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Alice,  in  a  simple  but  cold  and  business-like 
manner,  told  him  that  she  did  not  yet  know  him, 
but  that,  as  he  was  a  Protestant  and  she  a  Catholic, 
there  was  an  insuperable  bar  between  them.  Hugh 
urged  that  he  himself  had  no  religion,  never  having 
darkened  a  church  door,  and  that  he  was  quite 
willing  to  be  anything  she  wished  him  to  be. 

Alice  met  his  earnest  pleadings  with  playful 
sallies,  which  disconcerted  him,  and  little  by  little 
she  led  him  to  the  story  of  his  life,  episodes  of 
which  she  had  heard  from  her  brother.  Sympathy 
leads  to  love,  and  Alice  was  moved  greatly  by 
Hugh's  simple  narrative. 


CHAPTER   XI 

TRUE   LOVE   AND   PARTY   STRIFE 

THE  Christmas  holidays  passed  pleasantly 
under  the  hospitable  roof  of  the  McClory 
family.  The  chief  amusement  of  the  neighbour- 
hood was  drinking  in  a  shebeen,  or  local  public- 
house  ;  but  Hugh  declined  to  accompany  Paddy  to 
the  sJiebeen,  preferring  to  share  his  sister's  solitude. 

Before  the  holidays  had  come  to  a  close  Hugh 
and  Alice  had  become  engaged,  but  the  course  of 
true  love  in  their  case  was  destined  to  the  pro- 
verbial fate.  All  Miss  McClory's  friends  were 
scandalised  at  the  thought  of  her  consenting  to 
marry  a  Protestant. 

Religion  among  Catholics  and  Orangemen  in 
those  days  consisted  largely  of  party  hatred.  He 
was  a  good  Protestant  who,  sober  as  well  as  drunk, 
cursed  the  Pope  on  the  I2th  of  July,  wore  orange 
colours,  and  played  with  fife  and  drum  a  tune 
known  as  the  Battle  of  the  Boyne  ;  and  he  was  a 
good  Catholic  who,  in  whatever  condition,  used 
equally  emphatic  language  regarding  King  William. 


84  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

No  more  genuine  expression  of  religious    feeling 
was  looked  for  on  either  side. 

There  is  a  story  told  in  the  McClory  district  which 
illustrates  the  current  religious  sentiment.  Two 
brother  Orangemen,  good  men  after  their  lights, 
had  long  been  fast  friends.  They  seldom  missed 
an  opportunity,  in  the  presence  of  Catholics,  of 
consigning  the  Pope  to  the  uncomfortable  place 
to  which  he  himself  has  been  wont  to  consign 
heretics. 

It  happened  that  one  of  the  two  Orangemen  fell 
sick,  and  when  he  was  at  the  point  of  death  his 
friend  became  greatly  concerned  about  his  spiritual 
state  and  visited  him.  He  found  him  in  an  un- 
conscious condition  and  sinking  fast,  and,  putting 
his  lips  close  to  the  ear  of  his  sick  friend,  he  asked 
him  to  give  him  a  sign  that  he  felt  spiritually 
happy.  The  dying  man,  with  a  last  supreme 
effort,  raised  his  voice  above  a  whisper,  and  in  the 
venerable  and  well-known  formula  cursed  the  Pope. 
His  friend  was  comforted,  believing  that  all  was 
well. 

Whether  this  gruesome  story  be  true  or  not, 
it  goes  to  illustrate  the  fact  that  blasphemous 
bigotry  had  largely  usurped  the  place  of  religion. 
But  bitter  party  feeling  did  not  end  with  mere 
words.  Bloody  battles  between  Orangemen  and 
Catholics  were  periodically  fought  on  the  I2th  of 
July,  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  the  Boyne, 


TRUE  LOVE  AND  PARTY  STRIFE  85 

and  on  the  i/th  of  March,  St.  Patrick's  Day. 
Within  six  miles  of  McClory's  house  more  than 
a  dozen  pitched  battles  were  fought,  sometimes 
with  scythes  tied  on  poles,  and  sometimes  with 
firearms.  One  of  these  murderous  onsets,  known 
as  the  battle  of  Ballynafern,  took  place  within 
sight  of  McClory's  house. 

At  Dolly's  Brae  a  battle  was  fought  in  1849 
in  presence  of  a  large  body  of  troops  and  con- 
stabulary, who  remained  neutral  spectators  of  the 
conflict  till  the  Catholics  fled,  and  then  the 
constabulary  joined  with  the  victors  in  firing  on 
the  flying  foe. 

The  scenes  of  these  struggles,  such  as  Tillyorier, 
Katesbridge,  Hilltown,  the  Diamond,  etc.,  are  classic 
spots  now.  Each  has  had  its  poet,  and  ballads  are 
sung  to  celebrate  the  prowess  of  the  victors,  who 
were  uniformly  the  Orangemen,  inasmuch  as  they 
used  firearms,  while  the  Catholics  generally  fought 
with  pikes  and  scythes. 

Hugh  Bronte  had  not  yet  discovered  the  deep 
and  wide  gulf  that  yawned  between  Protestants 
and  Catholics,  and  so  he  made  light  of  the  religious 
objections  of  which  he  had  heard  so  much  from 
Alice. 

But  the  Catholic  friends  of  Miss  McClory,  who 
had  heard  the  Pope  cursed  by  Protestant  lips 
almost  every  day  of  their  lives,  could  not  stand  by 
and  see  a  Catholic  lamb  removed  into  the  Protestant 


86  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

shambles.  They  came  to  look  on  Bronte  as  a 
Protestant  emissary,  more  influenced  by  a  fiendish 
desire  to  plunder  the  Catholic  fold  than  by  love 
for  their  beautiful  relative. 

Hugh  Bronte  in  his  eager  simplicity  wanted  to 
supersede  all  opposition  by  getting  married  im- 
mediately, but  so  great  a  commotion  ensued  that 
he  had  to  return  to  the  kilns  at  Mount  Pleasant, 
leaving  his  matrimonial  prospects  in  a  very  un- 
satisfactory condition. 

Troops  of  relatives  invaded  the  McClory  house 
daily,  and  ardent  Catholics  tried  in  vain  to  argue 
down  Alice  McClory 's  newly  kindled  love.  All 
the  Roman  Catholic  neighbours  joined  in  giving 
copious  advice,  and  little  was  talked  of  at  fairs  and 
markets  and  chapel  but  the  proposed  marriage 
of  Alice  McClory  to  an  unknown  Protestant 
heretic. 

The  priest  also,  as  family  friend,  was  drawn 
into  the  matter.  In  those  days  Irish  priests  were 
educated  in  France  or  Italy,  and  were  generally 
men  of  culture. and  refinement.  Their  horizon  had 
been  widened.  They  had  come  in  contact  with 
the  language,  literature,  and  social  habits  of  other 
peoples,  and  they  had  become  courteous  men  of 
the  world.  They  had  to  some  extent  got  out  of 
touch  with  the  fierce  fanaticism  of  Irish  party 
strife. 

The  priest  called  on  Miss  McClory.     Everybody 


TRUE  LOVE  AND  PARTY  STRIFE  87 

knew  that  he  had,  and  awaited  the  result  ;  but 
Alice's  beauty  and  simplicity  and  tears  made 
such  an  impression  on  the  kind-hearted  old  priest, 
that  his  chivalrous  instinct  was  aroused,  and  he 
was  almost  won  to  the  lady's  side.  The  centre  of 
the  agitation  then  shifted  from  McClory's  cottage 
to  the  priest's  manse,  and  so  hot  was  the  anger  of 
the  infuriated  Catholics  that  the  good-natured  priest 
promised,  sorely  against  his  will,  that  he  would  not 
consent  to  marry  the  pair. 

Hugh  Bronte  was  nominally  a  Protestant,  but  he 
had  not  been  in  a  church  of  any  kind  from  the 
time  he  was  five  or  six  years  of  age ;  he  had 
received  no  religious  instruction ;  he  could  not 
read  the  Bible  for  himself,  and  no  one  had  ever 
read  it  to  him  ;  and  he  was  as  innocent  of  any 
religious  bias  or  bigotry  as  a  savage  in  Central 
Africa.  Suddenly  he  found  himself  the  chief 
figure  in  a  fierce  religious  drama. 

At  first  he  was  greatly  amused,  and  laughed  at 
the  very  suggestion  of  his  religion  being  considered 
a  stumbling-block.  From  the  time  he  left  his 
father's  house  he  had  seldom  heard  the  Divine  name 
pronounced  except  in  some  form  of  malediction, 
and  religion  had  brought  no  consolation  to  his 
hard  life. 

He  had  never  presumed  to  think  that  he  had 
any  relationship  to  the  Church,  its  priests  were  so 
gorgeous  and  its  people  so  well-to-do.  Gallagher 


88  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

had  made  him  familiar  with  the  dread  powers  of 
the  infernal  world,  and  with  "the  Blessed  Virgin 
and  the  saints  "  in  their  malevolent  capacity ;  but 
the  malignant  hypocrisy  of  Gallagher  was  quite  as 
repulsive  to  him  as  the  vindictive  blasphemy  of 
his  uncle.  In  fact,  he  had  lived  in  an  atmosphere 
untouched  by  the  light  or  warmth  of  religion. 

Hugh's  bondage  and  suffering  had  made  him 
neither  cringing  nor  cruel,  and  his  freedom  had 
come  in  time  to  permit  the  full  development  of 
a  large  and  generous  heart  in  a  robust  and  healthy 
body.  In  his  simplicity  of  heart  he  prevailed 
on  Alice  to  invite  her  friends  to  meet  him.  He 
would  soon  remove  their  dislike  with  regard  to  his 
religion.  Under  the  impulse  of  his  enthusiasm  he 
thought  he  could  disarm  prejudice  by  a  frank 
and  open  avowal  of  his  absolute  indifference  to 
all  religions. 

'Nothing  perhaps  in  the  whole  history  of  the 
Brontes  exceeded  in  interest  that  meeting.  A 
dozen  wily  Ulster  Catholics  gathered  round  simple- 
hearted  Hugh  Bronte  in  Paddy  McClory's  kitchen. 
How  the  Orange  champions  would  have  trembled 
for  the  Protestant  cause  if  they  had  been  aware 
of  Hugh's  danger ! 

The  preliminary  salutations  over,  a  black  bottle 
was  produced  and  a  glass  of  whiskey  handed 
round.  Hugh  had  never  learned  to  drink  whiskey, 
and  at  that  time  detested  the  very  smell  of  it. 


TRUE  LOVE  AND  PARTY  STRIFE  89 

His  refusal  to  drink  with  McClory's  friends  was 
the  first  ground  of  offence,  but  the  whiskey  had  not 
yet  brought  the  drinkers  into  the  quarrelsome 
mood. 

When  several  bottles  of  McClory's  whiskey  had 
been  drunk,  and  the  temperature  of  the  guests 
had  risen  proportionately,  the  religious  question 
was  approached.  Bronte  was  urged  in  peremptory 
tones  to  abjure  Protestantism.  He  had  his  answer 
ready.  He  was  no  more  a  Protestant  than  they 
were,  and  he  had  no  Protestantism  to  abjure. 
"  Will  you  then  curse  King  William  ?  "  said  a  fiery 
little  man  who  had  taken  much  liquor,  and  seemed 
to  be  the  spokesman  of  the  party. 

There  is  a  principle  in  human  nature  which  has 
been  taken  far  too  little  account  of  by  both  philo- 
sophers and  peasants.  It  has  been  the  dominant 
principle  in  many  of  the  important  decisions  that 
have  sealed  the  fate  of  nations  as  well  as  of  indi- 
viduals. The  principle  is  expressed  by  a  word 
which  is  always  pronounced  in  one  way  by  the 
cultured,  and  in  quite  a  different  way  by  the  un- 
lettered. The  word  in  its  illiterate  use  is  "  con- 
tra/Vyness,"  and  but  for  the  principle  expressed  by 
this  word  the  Bronte  girls  would  never  have  made 
their  mark  in  literature,  and  this  history  would 
never  have  been  written. 

"  Curse  King  William ! "  shouted  the  fiery  little 
man,  supported  by  a  hoarse  echo  from  the  other 


90  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

half-tipsy  guests,  all   of  whom  had   turned  fierce 
and  glowing  eyes  on  the  supposed  Protestant. 

"  I  cannot  curse  King  William,"  replied  Hugh, 
smiling.  "  He  never  did  me  any  harm  ;  besides, 
he  is  beyond  the  region  of  my  blessings  and 
cursings  ;  but,"  he  added,  warming  with  his  subject, 
"  I  should  not  mind  cursing  the  Pope,  if  he  is  the 
author  of  your  fierce  and  besotted  religion." 

Alice  first  saw  the  danger,  and  uttered  a  sharp 
cry.  Suddenly  the  family  party  sprang  upon 
Hugh  as  the  ambushed  Philistines  once  flung 
themselves  on  Samson ;  but  he  shook  them  off, 
and  left  them  sprawling  on  the  floor.  Alice  drew 
him  from  the  house,  bleeding  and  dishevelled,  and 
after  a  tender  parting  in  the  grove  beside  the 
stream  he  started  on  foot  for  Mount  Pleasant. 

Two  immediate  results  followed  that  conflict : 
Hugh  Bronte  became  a  furious  Protestant  and  a 
frantic  lover.  There  was  no  lukevvarmness  or 
indifference  as  to  his  Protestantism.  The  Bronte 
contrairyness  had  met  the  kind  of  opposition  to 
give  it  a  stubborn  set,  and  he  there  and  then 
became  a  Protestant  double-dyed  in  the  warp  and 
in  the  woof. 

The  process  of  his  conversion,  such  as  it  was, 
was  prompt,  decisive,  effectual.  It  was  in  its  early 
stages  Orange  in  hue  and  militant  in  fibre,  and 
was  a  genuine  product  of  the  times. 

Hugh's  love  for  Alice  was  fanned  into  a  fierce 


TRUE  LOVE  AND  PARTY  STRIFE  91 

flame  by  the  events  of  that  night.  When  he  first 
met  her  he  had  been  dazzled  by  her  rare  beauty. 
He  had  seen  few  women,  and  never  one  like  Alice. 
For  the  first  time  he  had  come  under  the  spell 
of  a  simple  and  beautiful  girl.  They  were  young, 
shy  lovers ;  very  happy  in  each  other's  company, 
but  each  sufficiently  self-possessed  to  be  happy 
enough  in  self. 

From  the  furnace  of  contradiction  on  that 
night  the  jewel  love  had  leaped  forth.  Each  was 
drawn  out  from  the  self-centre  in  which  each  had 
been  concentrated  in  self ;  he  to  declare  his  love 
in  the  face  of  relentless  foes,  and  she  to  cling  to 
him  and  protect  him  when  bruised  and  torn  by 
her  friends. 

Beneath  the  pines  that  night  they  pledged  with 
mingling  tears  undying  love.  They  parted,  but 
their  hearts  were  one  ;  and  persecution,  poverty, 
and  bereavement  only  welded  them  more  closely 
together  in  the  changing  years.* 

*  For  much  that  is  vivid  in  this  scene  I  am  indebted  to  a 
younger  Paddy  McClory.  He  was  an  old,  and  most  in- 
telligent servant  of  Mr.  McKee's,  and  died  some  years  ago  at 
a  very  great  age.  He  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  had  a  son 
killed  in  the  battle  of  Ballynafern. 


CHAPTER   XII 

LOVE'S   SUBTERFUGES 

HUGH  returned  to  the  Mount  Pleasant  Kilns, 
but  his  heart  was  no  longer  in  his  work. 
The  burning  of  lime  requires  incessant  care.  The 
limestones  must  be  broken  to  a  proper  size,  layers 
of  coal  in  due  proportion  must  be  added,  and 
there  must  be  constant  watchfulness  lest  the  fires 
should  die  out.  Farmers'  sons  and  servants  started 
generally  from  County  Down  about  midnight, 
and  after  travelling  all  night  arrived  at  the  kilns 
for  their  loads  about  dawn.  A  badly  burnt  kiln 
of  lime  was  a  grave  loss  to  the  owners,  as  well 
as  a  serious  disappointment  to  the  customers,  and 
likely  to  result  in  loss  of  custom. 

There  were  many  complaints  as  to  the  character 
of  the  lime  immediately  after  Christmas,  and  the 
farmers  on  several  occasions  found  on  slaking 
their  loads  at  home  that  only  the  surface  of  the 
stones  was  burnt,  and  that  they  had  paid  for  and 

imported  heaps  of  raw  limestone. 

92 


LOVE'S  SUBTERFUGES  93 

Hugh's  thoughts  were  not  in  his  business.  He 
had  made  several  Sunday  journeys  to  Ballynas- 
keagh  to  have  secret  meetings  with  Alice.  They 
met  in  the  grove  by  the  brook,  in  a  spot  still 


THE    COURTING    BOWER. 


pointed  out  as  the  "  Lover's  Arbour  "  or  "  Courting 
Bower,"  and  there,  under  willows  festooned  with 
ivy  and  honeysuckle  and  sweetbriar,  they  spent 
lonely  but  happy  Sundays. 

They  were  at  last  betrayed  by  a  Catholic  servant, 


94  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

who  had  been  entrusted  with  a  letter  to  Alice. 
Then  began  a  system  of  espionage  and  petty 
persecution,  and  all  the  forces  of  the  McClory 
clan  were  united  in  an  effort  to  compel  Alice  to 
marry  a  Catholic  neighbour  called  Joe  Burns. 

At  this  time  Hugh  began  to  learn  to  read  and 
write,  and  he  succeeded  so  far  by  the  light  from 
the  eye  of  the  kiln  at  night  as  to  be  able  to  write 
love-letters  which  Alice  was  able  to  read.  He 
also  about  the  same  time  succeeded  in  spelling  his 
way  through  the  New  Testament. 

News  from  the  north  had  reached  his  fellow- 
workers  that  he  was  a  Protestant  firebrand,  that  he 
had  cursed  the  Pope,  and  made  a  savage  attack  on 
some  harmless  Catholics.  At  the  kilns  his  manner 
had  changed,  and  he  had  become  moody  and 
morose.  Besides,  he  was  constantly  reading  a  little 
book  by  the  light  of  the  burning  lime  at  night, 
instead  of  telling  stories  and  singing  songs,  as  in 
former  times.  The  book  was  said  to  be  the  Bible  ; 
but  it  was,  in  fact,  the  New  Testament. 

A  plot  was  immediately  hatched  to  get  rid  of  so 
dangerous  a  colleague.  One  of  the  Catholics  under- 
took, as  usual,  to  look  after  the  kilns  while  Hugh 
made  an  expedition  to  County  Down  ;  but  he 
not  only  failed  to  charge  the  kilns  properly,  but 
sent  for  the  owner  on  Monday  morning  early  that 
he  might  see  for  himself  the  condition  of  things. 

The  northern  carts    arrived  by   dawn,    to    find 


LOVE'S  SUBTERFUGES  95 

that  there  was  nothing  for  them  but  unburnt  lime. 
While  the  matter  was  being  explained  Hugh 
arrived,  haggard  and  weary  after  his  night's 
journey,  and  was  peremptorily  dismissed,  without 
any  explanation  from  either  side  being  tendered  or 
accepted. 

I  have  no  record  of  Hugh's  proceedings  imme- 
diately after  his  dismissal,  but  he  must  have  been 
reduced  to  considerable  straits,  for  he  went  to  the 
hiring  ground  in  Newry,  and  engaged  himself  as  a 
common  servant-boy  to  a  farmer  who  resided  in 
Donoughmore.  As  a  farm  labourer  in  those  days 
he  would  receive  about  £6  per  annum,  with  board 
and  lodging  ;  but,  then,  he  was  near  his  Alice,  and 
that  made  every  burden  light. 

Hugh's  new  master,  James  Harshaw,  was  not  an 
ordinary  farmer.  The  Harshaws  had  occupied  the 
farm  from  early  in  the  fifteenth  century,  and  James, 
who  had  received  the  education  of  a  gentleman, 
had  behind  him  the  traditions  of  an  old  and  re- 
spectable family.  In  the  Harshaws'  home  shrewd 
and  steady  industry  was  brightened  by  culture  and 
refinement.  The  wheel  of  fortune  had  brought 
Hugh  Bronte  into  a  family  where  mental  alacrity 
had  full  play. 

Bronte  seems  to  have  been  treated  with  con- 
sideration and  kindness  by  the  Harshaws,  who 
probably  recognised  in  him  something  superior  to 
the  ordinary  farm-servant.  At  any  rate,  in  thoss 


96  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

days  the  walls  of  class  distinction  were  not  raised 
so  high  as  now,  and  the  Harshaw  children  taught 
him  to  read. 

Hugh  was  much  with  the  family.  He  drove 
them  to  Donoughmore  Presbyterian  Meeting  House 
on  Sundays,  and  sat  with  them  in  their  pew,  and  he 
accompanied  them  to  rustic  singing  parties  and 
such  local  gatherings.  He  used  to  drive  them  in 
the  summer-time  to  Warrenpoint  and  Newcastle, 
and  other  watering-places,  and  remain  with  them 
as  their  attendant. 

In  such  treatment  of  a  servant  there  was  nothing 
unusual,  and  Mr.  John  Harshaw,  the  present  pro- 
prietor of  the  ancestral  home,  has  no  very  decisive 
information  regarding  this  particular  servant.  He 
says  :  "  The  probability  is  that  Hugh  Bronte  hired 
with  my  grandfather,  whose  land  touched  the  Lough ; 
but  I  fear  it  is  too  true  that  he  passed  through  my 
grandfather's  service  and  left  no  permanent  record 
behind  him." 

I  think  it  is  more  than  probable  that  Bronte 
repaid  his  young  masters  and  mistresses  for  their 
teaching  by  telling  them  stories.  Under  Harshaw's 
roof  he  found  not  only  work  and  shelter,  but  a  home 
and  comfort ;  and  it  is  inconceivable  that  under 
those  circumstances  he  allowed  the  gift  that  was 
in  him  of  charming  by  vivid  narration  to  lie 
dormant. 

As  long  as  he  lived  he  spoke  of  the  Harshaws 


LOVE'S  SUBTERFUGES  97 

with  gratitude  and  affection,  and  I  do  not  believe 
he  could  have  been  so  glad  and  happy  without 
contributing  to  the  general  enjoyment. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century  the  raconteur 
occupied  the  place  in  Ireland  now  taken  by  the 
modern  novel,  and  I  believe  Hugh  Bronte  dropped 
doctrine  into  the  minds  of  the  young  Harshaws 
which  produced  far-reaching  results.  Such  was 
the  fixed  conviction  of  my  old  teacher,  the  Rev. 
William  McAllister. 

It  happened  that  the  Martins,  another  ancient 
family,  lived  quite  near  to  the  Harshaws.  The 
land  of  the  two  families  enclosed  Loughorne  Lough 
round.  The  Martins  were  rich  and  somewhat  aris- 
tocratic; but  the  two  families  were  thrown  much 
together,  and  Samuel  Martin,  the  son  of  the  one 
house,  married  Jane  Harshaw,  the  daughter  of  the 
other. 

She  was  a  deeply  religious  and  resolute  woman, 
with  a  stern  sense  of  duty.  One  of  her  nephews, 
the  Rev.  R.  H.  Harshaw,  tells  me  she  always 
conducted  family  worship  after  the  death  of  her 
husband.  She  died  of  a  fever,  caught  while 
ministering  to  the  dying,  in  accordance  with  her 
high  sense  of  Christian  duty.  Her  life  was  given 
for  others,  and  at  her  funeral  the  Rev.  S.  J. 
Moore  summed  up  her  character  as  "a  woman 
who  knew  her  duty,  and  did  it." 

Her  second  son,  John  Martin,  inherited  his 

7 


98  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

mother's  great  mental  capacity  and  strong  sense 
of  duty.  At  school  in  Newry  he  met  young  John 
Mitchell,  and  inspired  him  with  something  of  his 
own  enthusiasm,  and  the  two  youths  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  it  was  their  duty  to  put  right 
Ireland's  wrongs.  John  Mitchell  was  sent  to  penal 
servitude  for  fifteen  or  twenty  years,  and  then 
John  Martin  stepped  into  the  place  vacated  by  his 
friend,  and  was  transported  to  Van  Diemen's  Land 
for  ten  years. 

The  conviction  of  "  honest  John  Martin "  gave 
a  blow  to  the  old  system  in  Ireland  from  which 
it  has  never  recovered.  Even  his  enemies  were 
shocked  at  the  severity  of  the  sentence  ;  but,  then, 
he  had  written  a  pamphlet  under  the  text,  "  Your 
land,  strangers  devour  it  in  your  presence,  and  it  is 
desolate"  (Isa.  i.  7).  He  had  proclaimed  from  the 
housetops  Hugh  Bronte's  tenant-right  doctrines,  of 
which  more  anon.  He  had  attacked  the  sacred 
rights  of  landlordism,  and  he  was  sent  to  a  safe 
and  distant  place  for  quite  a  different  offence,  called 
"  treason  felony." 

John  Martin  was  a  man  of  large  property,  but 
he  devoted  his  life  and  all  his  income  to  what  he 
considered  the  good  of  others.  He  had  taken  his 
B.A.  degree  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  and  studied 
medicine,  and  for  many  years  he  gave  advice  and 
drugs  gratuitously  to  all  who  came  to  him.  The 
poor  were  passionately  attached  to  him. 


LOVE'S  SUBTERFUGES  99 

I  remember  seeing  him  and  speaking  to  him 
after  he  had  received  a  free  pardon  and  become 
a  member  of  Parliament.  No  one  could  have 
looked  on  the  fine  capacious  head,  and  the  hand- 
some benevolent  face,  without  questioning  the 
system  that  had  no  better  use  for  such  a  man  than 
sending  him  to  rot  in  penal  servitude. 

Lord  Palmerston  beheld  the  ex-convict  with 
profound  admiration,  and  expressed  deep  sympathy 
with  him  as  the  victim  of  a  bad  system. 

John  Martin  preached  and  suffered  for  the  very 
doctrines  that  Hugh  Bronte  enunciated  with  such 
passionate  conviction.  Where  did  he  get  those 
doctrines?  I  think  there  is  no  doubt  that  John 
Martin's  beliefs  and  principles  grew  from  seeds 
sown  by  Hugh  Bronte,  the  servant-boy,  in  the 
sympathetic  mind  of  his  mother. 

Jane  Harshaw,  however  she  got  them,  carried 
the  doctrines  into  the  Martin  family.  They 
mingled  with  and  strengthened  her  strong  sense 
of  duty,  and  they  added  passion  to  her  zeal  for 
justice  and  the  thing  that  was  right. 

With  her  son  John  the  feeling  of  obligation  to 
break  the  ban  of  Ireland's  curse  became  irresistible. 
He  was  dowered  with  an  inexhaustible  grace  of 
pity  for  all  sufferers,  and  the  impulse  to  redress  the 
wrongs  of  the  oppressed  overpowered  him,  and  led 
him  to  acts  of  impatience  and  imprudence  which 
gave  his  cool-headed  enemies  the  opportunity  they 


ioo  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

were  ready  enough  to  embrace.  But  the  revolu- 
tionary doctrines  for  which  John  Martin  suffered 
came  from  the  same  seed  that  produced  Charlotte 
Bronte's  radical  sentiments,  and  it  is  interesting 
to  note  that  in  both  cases  the  seed  produced  its 
fruit  about  the  same  period  (1847 — 1848). 

I  must  now  leave  these  historical  speculations, 
however  plausible  and  probable  they  may  be,  and 
return  to  the  direct  narration  of  known  facts. 

Hugh  Bronte  had  disappeared  for  ever  from  the 
Mount  Pleasant  Kilns.  Those  who  had  plotted 
his  dismissal  exaggerated  every  foible  of  his  life, 
and  invented  others  after  he  was  gone,  until  by 
a  spiteful  blending  of  fact  and  fancy  they  made 
him  into  a  monster. 

The  farmers'  sons  and  servants  who  carted  lime 
from  Mount  Pleasant  to  County  Down  brought 
with  them  wonderful  tales  of  his  misdeeds  and  dis- 
grace, and  Alice  McClory's  guardians  believed  that 
he  had  disappeared  for  ever  into  the  distant  south 
whence  he  had  emerged.  They  never  suspected 
that  he  was  actually  living  in  their  neighbourhood, 
and  that  he  and  Alice  had  met  at  Warrenpoint, 
Newcastle,  and  elsewhere. 

Under  restraint  Alice  had  drooped  and  pined, 
but  now  that  Bronte  had  left  the  country  she  was 
permitted  to  ride  about  the  neighbourhood  quite 
alone.  She  enjoyed  horse  exercise  greatly,  but  no 
matter  in  what  direction  she  left  home  her  way  lay 


LOVE'S  SUBTERFUGES  101 

always  through  Loughorne.  Perhaps  the  roads 
were  better  in  that  direction,  but  she  always 
exchanged  salutations  with  a  handsome  working 
man  by  the  expanse  of  water  in  Loughorne. 

When  he  was  not  about  she  was  wont  very 
humanely  to  take  her  horse  down  to  the  lake  to 
drink,  and  from  a  hole  in  an  old  tree  she  used  to 
remove  a  scrap  of  paper,  leaving  something  instead. 
The  tree  used  to  be  pointed  out  as  "  Bronte's  post- 
box";  but  the  lake  has  recently  been  drained, 
and  the  tree  has,  I  believe,  disappeared. 

Everything  that  could  be  done  was  done  to 
please  Miss  McClory,  but  no  opportunity  was 
missed  to  further  Farmer  Burns's  suit.  He  was  a 
prosperous  man.  He  had  a  good  farm,  a  good 
house,  plenty  of  horses  and  cows  and  pigs,  and  was 
a  very  desirable  husband  for  Alice.  He  was  also  a 
Catholic.  Bronte  had  shown  that  he  did  not  care 
for  her  by  going  away  and  never  thinking  of  her 
more.  The  priest  joined  with  Alice's  female  friends 
in  pleading  for  Burns.  At  length  by  dogged 
perseverance  they  prevailed  on  her  to  consent  to 
marry  Burns  and  forget  Bronte.  The  incessant 
drip  had  made  an  impression  at  last,  and  the 
crafty  relatives  had  gained  their  end. 

There  was  joy  in  the  Catholic  camp  when  it  was 
publicly  announced  that  Miss  McClory  and  Mr. 
Burns  were  soon  to  be  married.  McClory's  house 
was  thatched  anew,  and  whitewashed  and  renovated 


102  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

throughout,  the  roses  were  nailed  up  round  the 
windows,  the  street  was  strewn  with  fresh  sand, 
new  window-blinds  and  bed-curtains  were  provided, 
and  pots  and  pans  were  burnished. 

Never  before  had  McClory's  house  been  subjected 
to  such  an  outburst  of  sweeping  and  brushing  and 
washing  and  scouring ;  the  whole  place  became 
redolent  of  potash  and  suds.  It  was  spring-clean- 
ing in  excel  sis. 

The  local  dressmaker,  Annie  McCabe,  whose 
great-granddaughter  of  the  same  name  is  now  dress- 
maker of  the  same  place,  assisted  by  Miss  McClory's 
female  relatives,  was  busily  engaged  on  the  bridal 
dress.  Burns  used  to  look  in  daily  on  the  incessant 
preparations,  his  countenance  beaming  with  joy  ; 
but  Alice  would  not  permit  him  to  destroy  the 
pleasures  of  imagination  by  approaching  near  to 
her.  She  would  lift  her  finger  coyly,  and  warn  him 
off  if  he  presumed  on  any  familiarities  ;  but  she 
allowed  him  to  sit  on  the  other  side  of  the  kitchen 
fire  from  that  graced  by  herself. 

At  length  the  wedding  day  arrived.  Such  signs 
of  feasting  had  never  before  been  seen  in  Bally- 
naskeagh.  New  loaves  had  been  procured  from 
Newry,  fresh  beef  from  Rathfriland,  whiskey 
from  Banbridge  ;  a  great  pudding,  composed  of 
flour  and  potatoes,  and  boiled  for  many  hours  over 
a  slow  fire  with  hot  coals  on  the  lid  of  the  oven, 
had  been  prepared  ;  two  of  the  largest  turkeys 


LOVE'S  SUBTERFUGES  103 

had  been  boiled,  and  laid  out  on  great  dishes,  with 
an  abundant  coating  of  melted  butter  ;  and  a  huge 
roll  of  roast  beef  was  served  up  as  a  burnt-offering. 
Signs  of  abundance  stood  on  table  and  dresser  and 
hob,  while  rows  of  bottles  peeped  from  behind  the 
window  curtains,  and  neither  envy  nor  spite  could 
say  that  Paddy  McClory  was  not  providing  a 
splendid  wedding  for  his  sister. 

The  morning  rose  glorious,  and  as  the  custom 
then  was,  Burns  and  his  friends,  mounted  on  their 
best  horses,  raced  to  the  house  of  the  bride  for  tJie 
broth,  first  in  being  the  winner.  On  such  occasions 
crowds  of  neighbours  crowned  the  hill-tops.  The 
cavalcade  was  greeted  with  ringing  cheers  as  it 
swept  in  a  cloud  of  dust  down  the  road  from  the 
Knock  Hill.  Several  riders  were  unhorsed,  but 
the  steeds  arrived  in  McClory's  court  champing 
their  bits  and  covered  with  foam. 

A  covered  car  from  Newry  stood  near  the  house 
on  the  road  to  take  Alice  to  the  chapel ;  but  she 
was  to  ride  away  from  the  chapel  mounted  on  the 
pillion  behind  her  husband. 

There  was  an  unexpected  pause,  no  one  knew 
why.  Some  dismounted,  and  stood  by  their 
stirrups,  ready  to  mount  when  the  bride  had 
entered  her  carriage.  Glasses  of  whiskey  were 
handed  round,  and  then  the  pause  became  more 
awkward  and  the  suspense  more  intense. 

At  last  it  became  known  that  Alice,  who  had  been 


104  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

up  nearly  all  night  finishing  her  new  gowns,  had  felt 
weary,  and,  fitting  on  her  wedding  dress,  had  gone 
out  on  her  mare  for  a  spurt  to  shake  off  drowsi- 
ness. Messengers  were  sent  in  different  directions 
to  search  for  her,  but  they  had  not  returned. 
Some  accident  must  have  befallen  her. 

Burns,  who  rode  a  powerful  black  horse  and 
who  had  won  the  broth,  galloped  off  wildly  towards 
Loughbrickland.  The  other  cavaliers  scoured  the 
country  in  different  directions  ;  but  while  all  kinds 
of  surmises  were  being  hazarded,  a  messenger  on 
foot  from  Banbridge  with  dainties  for  the  feast 
arrived,  and  reported  that  he  had  met  Miss  McClory 
and  a  tall  gentleman  galloping  furiously  towards 
the  river  Bann  near  Banbridge. 

There  was  great  excitement  among  the  wedding 
party,  and  whiskey  and  strong  language  with- 
out measure.  After  a  hurried  consultation  the 
mounted  guests  agreed  to  pursue  the  fugitives 
and  bring  Miss  McClory  back  ;  but  while  they 
were  tightening  their  girths  and  getting  ready 
for  a  gallop  of  five  or  six  miles,  a  boy  rode  up 
to  the  house  on  the  mare  that  had  been  ridden 
by  Alice,  bearing  a  letter  to  say  she  had  just  been 
married  to  Hugh  Bronte  in  Magherally  Church.  She 
sent  her  love  and  grateful  thanks  to  her  brother, 
hoped  the  party  would  enjoy  the  wedding  dinner, 
and  begged  them  to  drink  her  health  as  Mrs.  Bronte. 

The    plucky    manner   in    which   the   lady   had 


LOVE'S  SUBTERFUGES  105 

carried  out  her  own  plan,  outwitting  the  coercionists 
by  her  own  cleverness,  called  forth  admiration  in  the 
midst  of  disappointment,  and  the  cheery  message 
touched  every  heart.  The  calamity  that  had  be- 
fallen Burns  did  not  weigh  heavily  on  the  hearts  of 
the  guests  in  presence  of  the  splendid  dinner  before 
them,  and  especially  as  it  was  now  clear  that  the 
lady  was  being  forced  to  marry  him  against  her  will. 

At  this  juncture  the  kind  and  courteous  old 
priest  rose,  and  with  great  skill  and  good  humour 
talked  about  the  events  of  the  day.  He  brought 
into  special  prominence  the  humorous  and  heroic 
episode  in  a  manner  that  appealed  to  the  chivalry 
of  his  hearers,  and  then  with  tender  pathos,  referring 
to  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  house,  called  upon 
the  guests  to  drink  her  health.  The  toast  was 
responded  to  with  a  hearty,  ringing  cheer. 

Burns,  who  has  left  a  good  reputation  behind 
him,  promptly  proposed  prosperity  to  the  new 
married  couple  ;  and  Red  Paddy,  always  kind  and 
generous,  promised  to  send  the  united  good  wishes 
of  the  whole  party  to  the  bride  and  bridegroom, 
and  to  assure  them  of  a  hearty  welcome  in  which 
the  past  would  be  forgotten.  Paddy,  as  we  shall 
see,  kept  his  word.  Thus  the  grandfather  and 
grandmother  of  the  great  novelists  were  married  in 
1776  in  the  Protestant  Church  of  Magherally,  the 
clergyman  who  officiated  pronouncing  the  bride 
the  most  beautiful  woman  he  had  ever  seen. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

LOVE   IN    A   COTTAGE 

AFTER  a  brief  honeymoon  spent  at  Warren- 
point,  Alice  Bronte  returned,  on  her  brother's 
invitation,  to  her  old  home,  and  Hugh  went  back 
to  complete  his  term  of  service  in  Loughorne. 
It  soon  became  desirable  that  his  wife  should 
have  a  home  of  her  own,  and  he  took  a  cottage 
in  Emdale  in  the  parish  of  Drumballyroney,  with 
which  Drumgooland  was  united  at  the  time. 

The  house  stands  near  cross-roads  leading  to 
important  towns.  In  a  direct  line  it  is  about  three 
and  three-quarters  statute  miles  from  Rathfriland, 
seven  and  three-quarters  from  Newry,  twelve  from 
Warrenpoint,  and  five  and  a  quarter  from  Banbridge. 
The  map  shows  the  position  of  the  house  on  the 
north-west  side  of  the  old  road,  leading  in  Hugh 
Bronte's  day  to  Newry  and  Warrenpoint.  Almost 
opposite  on  the  other  side  of  the  road  there  was 
a  blacksmith's  shop,  which  still  continues  to  be  a 
blacksmith's  shop.  The  Bronte  house  remains, 
though  partially  in  ruins.  I  have  given  a  photo- 

106 


LOVE  IN  A    COTTAGE  109 

graph  of  it  taken   from  the  Banbridge   side.      It 
stands  as  frontispiece. 

The  house  is  now  used  as  a  byre,  but  its  dimen- 
sions are  exactly  the  same  as  when  it  became 
the  home  of  Hugh  Bronte  and  his  bride.  The 
rent  then  would  be  about  sixpence  per  week,  and 
would  in  accordance  with  the  general  custom  be 
paid  by  one  day's  work  in  the  week,  the  work 
being  given  in  the  busy  seasons. 

The  house  consisted  of  two  rooms.  That  over 
which  the  roof  still  stands  was  without  chimney 
and  was  used  as  bedroom  and  parlour ;  and  the 
outer  room,  from  which  the  roof  has  fallen,  was 
used  as  a  corn-kiln  and  also  as  kitchen  and  recep- 
tion-room. 

A  farmer's  wife,  whose  ancestors  lived  close  to 
the  Bronte  house  long  before  the  Brontes  were 
heard  of  in  County  Down,  pointing  to  a  spot  in 
the  corner  of  the  byre  opposite  to  the  window,  said, 
"  There  is  the  very  spot  where  the  Rev.  Patrick 
Bronte  was  born."  Then  she  added,  "  Numbers  of 
great  folk  have  asked  me  about  his  birthplace,  but, 
och  !  how  could  I  tell  them  that  any  dacent  man 
was  ever  born  in  such  a  place  ! "  This  feeling  on 
the  part  of  the  neighbours  will  probably  account 
for  the  fact  that  everything  written  thus  far  regard- 
ing Patrick  Bronte's  birthplace  is  wrong,  neither 
the  townland  nor  even  the  parish  of  his  birth  being 
correctly  given. 


no  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

In  the  lowly  cottage  in  Emdale,  now  known  as 
"  The  Kiln,"  and  used  as  a  cowshed,  Patrick  Bronte 
was  born  on  the  I7th  of  March,  1777.  Men  have 
risen  to  fame  from  a  lowly  origin  ;  but  few  men 
have  ever  emerged  from  humbler  circumstances 
than  Patrick  Bronte. 

Many  a  reader  of  Mrs.  Gaskell's  life  of  Charlotte 
Bronte  has  been  saddened  by  the  picture  of  the 
vicar's  daughters  amid  their  narrow  and  grim 
surroundings  ;  but  the  grey  vicarage  of  Haworth 
was  a  palace  compared  with  the  hovel  in  which 
the  vicar  himself  was  born  and  reared. 

Besides,  the  Haworth  vicarage  was  never  really 
as  sombre  as  Mrs.  Gaskell  painted  it,  for  Miss 
Ellen  Nussey  was  a  constant  visitor,  and  she 
assures  me  that  the  girls  were  bright  and  happy 
in  their  home,  always  engaged  on  some  project  of 
absorbing  interest,  and  always  enjoying  life  in  their 
own  sober  and  thoughtful  way. 

The  Bronte  cottage  in  Emdale  was  very  poor, 
but  it  was  brightened  with  the  perennial  sun- 
shine of  love.  It  was  love  in  a  cottage,  in  which 
the  bare  walls  and  narrow  board  were  golden  in 
the  light  of  Alice  Bronte's  smile.  It  was  said 
in  the  neighbourhood  that  Mrs.  Bronte's  smile 
"  would  have  tamed  a  mad  bull."  And  on  her 
deathbed  she  thanked  God  that  her  husband  had 
never  looked  upon  her  with  a  frown. 

In  their  wedded  love  they  were  very  poor,  but 


LOVE  IN  A    COTTAGE  in 

very  happy.  Hugh's  constant,  steady  work  pro- 
vided for  the  daily  wants  of  an  ever-increasing 
family,  but  it  made  no  provision  for  the  strain  of 
adverse  circumstances.  In  fact,  the  Emdale  Brontes 
lived  like  birds,  and  as  happy  as  birds. 

Hugh  Bronte  was  one  of  the  industrious  poor. 
The  salt  of  his  life  was  honest,  manly  toil.  He 
had  forgotten  the  luxury  of  his  childhood's  home, 
and  he  did  not  feel  any  degradation  in  his  lowly 
lot 

In  our  artificial  civilisation  we  have  come  to 
place  too  much  store  on  the  accident  of  wealth. 
Our  blessed  Saviour,  whom  the  rich  and  luxurious 
as  well  as  the  poor  call  "  Lord,"  was  born  in  as 
lowly  a  condition  of  comfortless  poverty  as  Patrick 
Bronte.  Cows  are  now  housed  in  Bronte's  birth- 
place, but  our  Lord  was  born  among  the  animals 
in  the  caravanserai.  And  yet  in  our  social 
code  we  have  reduced  the  Decalogue  to  the  one 
commandment,  "  Thou  shalt  not  be  poor." 

Hugh  Bronte  did  not  choose  poverty  as  his  lot, 
but  being  a  working  man,  like  the  Carpenter  of 
Nazareth,  he  did  the  daily  work  that  came  to  his 
hand,  and  then  side  by  side  with  Alice  he  found 
the  fulness  of  each  day  sufficient  for  all  its  wants. 

The  happy  home  was  soon  crowded  with  children, 
and  the  family  removed  to  a  larger  and  better 
house  in  the  townland  of  Lisnacreevy. 

The  following  verses  have  always  been  known 


H2  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

as  the  product  of  Hugh  Bronte's  muse.  I  am 
inclined  to  think  they  may  have,  in  an  original 
form,  been  produced  by  Hugh,  and  smoothed 
down  by  his  son  Patrick  ;  and  perhaps  in  the 
refining  process  they  have  lost  in  strength  more 
than  they  have  gained  in  sound. 

I  do  not  think  old  Hugh  would  have  known 
anything  at  first  hand  of  the  "  peach-bloom,"  or  of 
"  blood-red  Mars."  The  poem  forty  years  ago  had 
many  variations,  but  there  is  one  line  of  special 
interest,  as  it  shows  that  the  verses  were  known 
to  Charlotte  Bronte.  The  verse  with  a  slight 
variation  is  put  into  the  mouth  of  Jane  Eyre. 
Rochester  says,  "  Jane  suits  me:  do  I  suit  her?" 
Jane  answers,  "  To  the  finest  fibre  of  my  nature, 
sir." 

"ALICE  AND   HUGH. 

"  The  red  rose  paled  before  the  blush 

That  mantled  o'er  thy  dimpled  cheek  ; 
The  peach-bloom  faded  at  the  flush 
That  tinged  thy  beauty  ripe  and  meek. 

11  Thy  milk-white  brow  outshone  the  snow, 
Thy  lustrous  eyes  outglanced  the  stars  ; 
Tliy  cherry  lips,  with  love  aglow, 

Burned  ruddier  than  the  blood-red  Mars. 

'•  Thy  sweet,  low  voice  waked  in  my  heart 

Dead  memories  of  my  mother's  love  ; 
My  long-lost  sister's  artless  art 

Lived  in  thy  smiles,  my  gentle  dove. 


LOVE  IN  A    COTTAGE  113 

Dear  Alice,  how  thy  charm  and  grace 

Kindled  my  dull  and  stagnant  life ! 
From  first  I  saw  thy  winning  face 

My  whole  heart  claimed  thee  for  my  wife. 

I  thought  you'd  make  me  happy,  dear, 

I  sought  you  for  my  very  own  ; 
You  clung  to  me  through  storm  and  fear, 

You  loved  me  still,  though  poor  and  lone. 

'  My  love  was  centred  all  in  self, 

Thy  love  was  centred  all  in  me  ; 
True  wife  above  all  pride  and  pelf, 
My  life's  deep  current  flows  for  thee. 

1  The  finest  fibres  of  my  soul 

Entwine  with  thine  in  love's  strong  fold, 
Our  tin  cup  is  a  golden  bowl, 

Love  fills  our  cot  with  wealth  untold." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   DAILY   ROUND 

HUGH  BRONTE  and  his  wife  could  not  live 
wholly  on  love  in  a  cottage,  and  Hugh  had 
to  bestir  himself.  He  was  an  unskilled  labourer, 
though  he  understood  the  art  of  burning  lime. 
There  was  no  limestone,  however,  in  that  part  of 
County  Down  to  burn,  and  as  he  could  not  have 
a  lime-kiln  he  resolved  to  have  a  corn-kiln. 

At  the  beginning  of  this  century  a  corn-kiln 
in  such  a  district  in  Ireland  was  a  very  simple 
affair.  A  floor  of  earthenware  tiles,  pierced  nearly 
through  from  the  under  side,  was  arranged  as  a 
kind  of  platform  or  loft.  Beneath  there  was  a 
furnace,  which  was  heated  by  burning  the  rough, 
dry  seeds,  or  outer  shelling,  which  had  been  ground 
off  the  oats.  In  front  of  the  furnace  there  was  a 
hollow,  called  the  "  logic-hole,"  in  which  the  kiln- 
man  sat,  with  the  shelling,  or  seeds,  heaped  up 
within  arm's  length  around  him,  and  with  his  right 
hand  he  beeked  the  kiln  by  throwing,  every  few 
seconds,  a  sprinkling  of  seeds  on  the  flame.  In  this 

114 


THE  DAILY  ROUND  115 

way  he  kept  up  a  warm  glow  under  the  corn  till 
it  was  sufficiently  dry  for  the  mill. 

Such  was  the  simple  character  of  the  ordinary 
corn-kiln  in  County  Down  at  the  beginning  of 
the  century.  But  I  have  been  assured,  by  old 
men  of  the  neighbourhood,  that  Hugh  Bronte's 
kiln  was  of  a  still  more  primitive  structure.  The 
platform,  or  corn-floor,  was  constructed  by  laying 
down  iron  bars  across  unhewn  stones  set  up  on 
end.  On  these  bars  straw  matting  was  placed,  and 
on  the  matting  the  corn  was  spread  to  dry.  Such 
a  structure  was  the  immediate  precursor  of  the 
pottery-floored  kiln.  The  design  was  the  same 
in  both,  but  the  matting  was  always  liable  to 
catch  fire,  and  required  careful  attention. 

The  kiln  was  erected  in  the  part  of  the  Bronte 
cottage  now  roofless,  and,  like  the  cottage  itself, 
must  have  been  a  very  humble  erection.  It  has  been 
suggested  that  the  kiln  may  have  stood  elsewhere  ; 
but  it  is  now  established  beyond  all  doubt,  by  the 
investigations  of  the  Rev.  W.  J.  McCracken,  and  the 
unanimous  testimony  of  the  inhabitants,  that  the 
Bronte  kiln  stood  in  the  ruined  room  of  the  Bronte 
cottage,  and,  in  fact,  it  is  known  by  the  name  of 
"  Bronte's  kiln." 

Within  those  walls,  now  roofless,  the  grandfather 
of  Charlotte  Bronte  began,  in  1776,  to  earn  the 
daily  bread  of  himself  and  his  bride  by  roasting 
his  neighbours'  oats.  His  wage  was  known  by 


n6  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

the  name  of  mutJier,  and  consisted  of  so  many 
pounds  of  fresh  oats  taken  from  every  hundred- 
weight brought  to  him  to  be  kiln-dried.  The 
miller,  too,  was  paid  in  kind  ;  but  his  muther  was 
taken  by  measure  after  the  shellings,  or  seeds,  had 
been  ground  off  the  grain. 

When  Hugh  Bronte  had  accumulated  a  sackful 
of  muther,  he  dried  it  on  his  kiln,  took  it  to  the 
mill,  and  paid  his  mutJier  in  turn  to  the  miller  to 
have  it  ground  into  meal.  The  meal,  when  taken 
home,  was  stored  in  a  barrel,  and  with  the  produce 
of  the  rood  of  potatoes  which  Hugh  had  sod  on 
his  brother-in-law's  farm,  became  the  food  of  him- 
self and  family. 

As  the  Brontes  could  not  consume  all  the  mutJier 
themselves,  the  surplus  would  be  sold  to  provide 
clothing  and  other  necessaries  ;  and  though  there 
remains  no  trace  of  pigsty  or  fowl-house  around  the 
cottage,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  Mrs.  Bronte 
would  have  both  pigs  and  fowl  to  eke  out  her 
husband's  earnings. 

Mrs.  Bronte  was  a  famous  spinner,  and  she  handed 
down  the  art  to  her  daughters.  She  had  always 
a  couple  of  sheep  grazing  on  her  brother's  land. 
She  carded  and  span  the  wool,  her  spinning-wheel 
singing  all  day  beside  her  husband  as  he  beeked 
the  kiln.  Then,  during  the  long  dark  evenings, 
when  they  had  no  light  but  the  red  eye  of  the 
kiln,  she  knitted  the  yarn  into  hose  and  vests  and 


THE  DAILY  ROUND  117 

shirts,  and  even  headgear,  so  that  Hugh  Bronte, 
like  his  sons  in  after-years,  was  almost  wholly  clad 
in  "  home-spun." 

This  probably  had  something  to  do  with  the 
general  impression,  which  still  remains  in  the 
neighbourhood,  of  the  stately  and  shapely  forms 
of  the  Bronte  men  and  women.  The  knitted 
woollen  garments  fitted  close,  unlike  the  fantastic 
and  shapeless  habiliments  that  came  from  the 
hands  of  the  local  tailors  in  those  days. 

Alice  Bronte  also  span  nearly  all  the  garments 
which  she  wore,  and  her  tall  and  comely  daughters 
after  her  were  dressed  in  clothes  which  their  own 
hands  had  taken  from  the  fleece. 

From  choice  as  well  as  from  necessity  the  Brontes 
wore  woollen  garments,  and  the  vicar  carried  the 
same  taste  with  him  to  England,  where  his  dislike 
of  everything  made  of  cotton  was  attributed  by 
his  biographer  to  dread  of  fire. 

The  absurd  servant's  gossip  as  to  his  cutting  up 
and  destroying  his  wife's  silk  gown  had  possibly  a 
grain  of  truth  in  it,  owing  to  his  preference  for 
woollen  garments  ;  but  the  atrocity  manufactured 
out  of  the  gossip  by  Mrs.  Gaskell  was  probably 
an  exaggeration  of  an  innocent  act.  At  any  rate, 
the  old  vicar  characterised  the  statement,  I  believe 
truly,  by  a  small  but  ugly  word. 

All  the  Brontes,  father,  mother,  sons,  and 
daughters,  to  the  number  of  twelve,  were  clad 


ii8  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

in  wool,  and  they  were  said  to  be  the  "  healthiest, 
handsomest,  strongest,  heartiest  family  in  the  whole 
country."  They  were  a  standing  proof  of  the 
excellency  of  the  woollen  theory ;  and  it  is  inter- 
esting to  note  how  Hugh  Bronte's  theory  and 
practice  have  received  approval  in  our  own  day. 

For  a  time  the  Brontes  had  to  look  to  others  to 
weave  their  yarn  into  the  blankets  and  friezes  that 
they  required ;  but  Patrick  was  taught  to  weave, 
and  then  his  father's  household  manufactured  for 
themselves  out  of  the  raw  staple  everything  they 
wore,  from  the  drugget  petticoat  to  the  fine  and 
gracefully-fitting  corset. 

Even  the  scarlet  mantle,  for  which  "  Ayles " 
Bronte  is  still  remembered  in  Ballynaskeagh, 
was  carded,  spun,  knitted,  and  dyed  by  Mrs. 
Bronte's  own  hands.  The  spirit  of  independence 
manifested  by  the  Brontes  in  England  was  a 
survival  of  a  still  sturdier  spirit  that  had  its  origin 
in  one  of  the  humblest  cabins  in  County  Down. 

As  time  passed  Hugh  Bronte  became  a  famous 
ditcher.  There  is  a  very  old  man  called  Hugh 
Norton  living  in  Ballynaskeagh  who  remembers 
him  making  fences  and  philosophising  at  the  same 
time.  It  is  very  probable  that  the  introduction 
of  corn-kilns  constructed  of  burnt  pottery  may 
have  left  him  without  custom  for  his  straw-mat 
kiln,  just  as  the  introduction  of  machinery  at  a 
later  period  left  the  country  hand-looms  idle. 


THE  DAILY  ROUND  119 

In  Hugh  Bronte's  time  more  careful  attention 
began  to  be  given  to  the  land.  Bogs  were  drained, 
fields  were  fenced,  roads  constructed,  bridges  made, 
houses  built,  with  greater  energy  than  had  ever 
been  known  before  ;  and  although  the  landlord 
generally  raised  the  rent  on  every  improvement 
effected  by  the  tenant,  the  wave  of  prosperity 
and  improvement  continued. 

Hugh  Bronte  was  a  good  steady  workman,  and 
found  constant  employment,  and  at  that  time 
wages  rose  from  sixpence  per  day  to  eightpence 
and  tenpence. 

The  sod  fences  made  by  him  still  stand  as  a 
monument  of  honest  work,  and  there  are  few 
country  districts  where  huntsmen  would  find  greater 
difficulty  with  the  fences  than  in  Emdale  and 
Ballynaskeagh. 

As  Hugh  Bronte  advanced  in  life  he  continued 
to  prosper.  He  removed,  as  we  have  said,  from 
the  Emdale  cottage  to  a  larger  house  in  Lisna- 
creevy,  and  from  there  he  and  his  family  went  home 
to  live  with  Red  Paddy,  Mrs.  Bronte's  brother. 
On  the  Ballynaskeagh  farm  the  children  found 
full  scope  for  their  energies,  and  they  continued 
to  prosper  until  they  were  in  very  comfortable 
circumstances. 

The  Brontes  were  greatly  advanced  in  their 
prosperity  by  a  discovery  made  by  John  Loudon 
MacAdam.  He  wrote  several  treatises  on  road- 


120  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

making  of  a  revolutionary  character.  His  proposal 
was  to  make  roads  by  laying  down  layers  of 
broken  stones,  which  he  said  would  become 
hardened  into  a  solid  mass  by  the  traffic  passing 
over  them. 

For  a  time  he  was  the  subject  of  much  ridicule, 
but  he  persevered,  and  proved  his  theory  in  a 
practical  fashion.  The  importance  of  the  invention 
was  subsequently  acknowledged  by  a  grant  from 
the  Government  of  £10,000,  which  he  accepted, 
and  by  the  offer  of  a  baronetcy,  which  he  declined. 
He  lived  to  see  the  world's  highways  improved  by 
his  discovery,  and  the  English  language  enriched 
by  his  name. 

The  old,  unscientific  road-makers  were  too  con- 
servative to  engage  in  the  construction  of  mac- 
adamised roads  ;  but  the  Brontes  were  shrewd 
enough  to  see  the  value  of  the  new  method,  and 
they  tendered  for  county  contracts,  and  their 
tenders  were  accepted.  Then  the  way  to  fortune 
lay  open  before  them.  They  opened  quarries  on 
their  own  land,  where  they  found  an  inexhaustible 
supply  of  stones  easily  broken  to  the  required 
size,  With  suitable  stone  ready  to  their  hands 
they  had  a  great  advantage  over  all  rivals,  and  for 
a  generation  the  macadamising  of  the  roads  in  the 
neighbourhood  was  practically  a  monopoly  in  the 
Bronte  family. 

1     remember    the    excellent   carts   and    horses 


THE  DAILY  ROUND 


employed  by  the  Brontes  on  the  roads,  and  I  also 
distinctly  recollect  that  the  names  painted  on  the 
carts  were  spelled  "  Bronte,"  the  pronunciation 


THE    BRONTE    HOME. 


being    "  Brunty,"     never   "  Prunty,"    as   has    been 
alleged. 

With  the  lucrative  monopoly  of  road-making, 
added  to  their  farm  profits,  the  Brontes  grew  in 
wealth.  They  raised  on  their  farm  the  oats  and 
fodder  required  by  the  horses ;  and  as  the  brothers 


122  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

did  a  large  amount  of  the  work  themselves,  and 
had  nothing  to  purchase,  the  money  received  for 
road-making  was  nearly  all  profit. 

In  those  days  the  Brontes  added  field  to  field, 
until  they  owned  a  considerable  tract  of  land, 
which  they  held  from  a  model  landlord  called 
Sharman.  That  was  the  period  at  which  the  two- 
storied  house,  shown  in  the  picture,  was  built ;  and 
there  were  other  houses  occupied  by  the  Brontes 
from  the  two-storied  house  down  to  the  thatched 
cottage.  In  fact,  the  house  of  Red  Paddy  McClory, 
in  which  Alice  was  born  and  reared,  stood  about 
half-way  between  the  two-storied  house  and  a 
cabin  a  little  to  the  south  of  it.  The  foundations 
of  the  house  in  which  Charlotte  Bronte's  Irish 
grandmother  was  born  are  still  visible. 

Shortly  after  the  death  of  old  Hugh,  and  in  the 
time  of  the  Bronte  prosperity,  one  of  the  brothers, 
called  Welsh,  opened  a  public-house  in  the  thatched 
cabin  referred  to,  and  from  that  moment,  as  far  as 
I  have  been  able  to  make  out,  the  tide  of  the 
Brontes'  prosperity  turned. 

Everything  the  Brontes  did  in  those  days  was 
genuine.  Their  whiskey  was  as  good  in  quality  as 
their  roads,  and  I  fear  it  must  be  added  that  they 
were  among  the  heartiest  customers  for  their  own 
commodities.  They  ceased  to  work  on  the  roads, 
and  their  hard-earned  money  slipped  through 
their  fingers,  and  the  public-house  became  the 


THE  DAILY  ROUND 


123 


meeting-place  for  the  fast  and  wild  youth  of  the 
locality. 

Then  another  brother,  called  William,  but  known 


"by  Hugh;Bronte 

Devil's  Dining  Room 


Hugh  Bronte's  Ho.  ] 

Paddy  McClory's  Ho. 
Welsh  Bronte's  Ho., 


THE    BRONTE    HOMELAND. 


as  Billy,  opened  on  the  Knock  Hill  another  public- 
house,  which  also  became  a  centre  of  demoralisation 
to  the  young  men  of  the  district,  and  a  source  of 


124  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

degradation  to  the  keeper.  I  remember  both  these 
pests  in  full  force.  They  were  much  frequented 
by  Orangemen,  who,  when  tired  of  playing  "  The 
Protestant  Boys,"  used  to  slake  their  thirst  and 
fire  their  hatred  of  the  Papishes  by  drinking 
Bronte's  whiskey. 

In  those  days  everybody  drank.  At  births,  at 
baptisms,  at  weddings,  at  wakes,  at  funerals,  and 
in  all  the  other  leading  incidents  of  life,  intoxicating 
liquors  were  considered  indispensable.  If  a  man 
were  too  hot  he  drank,  or  if  he  were  too  cold  he 
drank.  He  drank  if  he  were  in  sorrow,  and  he 
drank  when  in  joy.  When  his  gains  were  great 
he  drank,  and  he  drank  also  when  crushed  by 
losses.  The  symbol  of  universal  hospitality  was 
the  black  bottle. 

Ministers  of  the  gospel  used  to  visit  their  people 
quarterly.  On  those  visitations  the  minister  was 
accompanied  by  one  of  his  deacons  or  elders.  Into 
whatever  house  they  entered  they  were  immedi- 
ately met  by  the  hospitable  bottle  and  two  glasses, 
and  they  were  always  expected  to  fortify  them- 
selves with  spirituous  draughts  before  beginning 
their  spiritual  duties,  and  they  did.  As  the  visitors 
called  at  from  twelve  to  twenty  houses  on  their 
rounds,  they  must  have  been  "  unco'  fu' "  by  the 
close  of  the  day. 

It  is  interesting  to  remember  that  when  the 
drinking  habits  of  the  country  were  at  their  height, 


THE  DAILY  ROUND  125 

the  temperance  reformation  was  begun  in  Great 
Britain  *  by  -the  best  friend  the  Brontes  had,  the 
Rev.  David  McKee.  It  is  of  still  greater  interest, 
in  our  present  investigation,  to  know  that  Mr. 
McKee  was  moved  to  the  action  which  has  resulted 
in  the  great  temperance  reform,  by  the  Bronte 
public-houses  at  his  door,  and  by  the  demoralisation 
they  were  creating. 

The  little  incident  which  has  led  to  such  momen- 
tous results  came  about  in  this  way.  The  Rev. 
David  McKee  of  Ballynaskeagh  was  the  minister 
of  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  Anaghlone.  He 
had  built  his  church,  and  he  was  largely  inde- 
pendent of  his  congregation.  One  Sunday  he 
thought  fit  to  preach  on  the  Rechabites.  In  the 

*  "  Ireland  spoke  first,  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Edgar  of  Belfast,  an 
able  Presbyterian  professor  in  the  Theological  College.  He 
was  visited  in  1829  by  the  Rev.  Joseph  Penney,  an  Irish 
Presbyterian  minister  and  old  friend  returned  from  America, 
who  told  him  of  what  was  doing  there.  This  probably  gave 
the  start  in  Europe.  But  while  Mr.  Penney  gave  the  actual 
start,  Dr.  Edgar  had  been  prepared  for  it  shortly  before  by 
the  Rev.  David  McKee,  a  Presbyterian  minister  near  Belfast, 
who  preached  a  sermon  on  the  Rechabites  and  drinking  habits, 
which  so  disturbed  his  congregation  that  a  crowd  of  them 
came  to  his  house  next  morning  requiring  him  to  recant  and 
apologise  next  Sunday.  He  replied  by  printing  his  sermon, 
which  went  far  and  wide,  for  his  commanding  talents  were 
well  known.  He  had  taught  both  Edgar  and  Penney  when 
boys." — The  Early  History  of  the  Temperance  Movement,  and 
the  Practical  Lessons  it  Teaches  us,  by  John  M.  Douglas,  Esq., 
London. 


126  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

sermon  he  ridiculed  and  denounced  the  drinking 
habits  of  the  time.  The  sermon  fell  on  the  con- 
gregation like  a  thunderbolt  from  a  cloudless  sky. 
Blank  amazement  in  the  audience  was  succeeded 
by  hot  indignation. 

On  the  following  morning  an  angry  deputation 
from  the  congregation  waited  on  Mr.  McKee.  He 
listened  to  them  with  patient  courtesy  while  they 
urged  that  the  sermon  should  be  immediately 
burnt,  and  that  an  apology  should  be  tendered  to 
the  congregation  on  the  following  Sunday. 

When  the  deputation  had  exhausted  themselves 
and  their  subject,  Mr.  McKee  began  quietly  to 
draw  attention  to  the  happy  homes  which  had 
been  desolated  by  whiskey,  the  brilliant  young  men 
whom  it  had  ruined,  the  amiable  neighbours  whom 
it  had  hurried  into  drunkards'  graves  ;  and  then 
he  pointed  to  the  Brontes  as  an  example  of  the 
baneful  influence  of  the  trade  on  the  sellers  of  the 
stuff  themselves. 

The  deputation,  some  of  them  Orangemen,  were 
in  no  mood  to  listen  to  radical  doctrines  subversive 
of  their  time-honoured  customs,  and  they  began  to 
threaten. 

Mr.  McKee,  who  was  six  feet  four  inches  high, 
and  of  great  muscular  power,  drew  himself  up  to 
his  full  stature,  and  calling  to  his  servant,  then  at 
breakfast  in  the  kitchen,  told  him  to  saddle  his 
best  mare,  as  he  wished  to  ride  in  haste  to  Newry 


THE  DAILY  ROUND  127 

to  publish  his  sermon  in  time  for  circulation  at 
church  on  the  following  Sunday.  Then,  turning 
to  the  deputation,  he  thanked  them  for  their  early 
visit,  which  he  hoped  would  bear  fruit,  and  bowed 
them  out  of  his  parlour. 

He  rode  the  best  horse  in  the  district,  and  he 
never  drew  rein  till  he  reached  the  printing  office 
in  Newry,  and  he  had  the  sermon  ready  for  circu- 
lation on  the  following  Sunday,  and  handed  it 
himself  to  his  people  as  they  retired.  Hundreds  of 
thousands  of  copies  have  been  since  issued,  and  it 
is  still  in  circulation. 

In  1798  Mr.  McKee,  then  a  youth,  watched  from 
a  hill  in  his  father's  land  the  battle  of  Ballynahinch. 
He  had  in  his  arms  at  the  time  a  little  nephew, 
who  had  been  left  in  his  charge.  The  little  nephew 
became  the  famous  Dr.  Edgar  of  Belfast,  who  used 
to  boast  playfully  that  he  was  "  up  in  arms  "  at  the 
battle  of  Ballynahinch. 

Mr.  McKee  sent  a  copy  of  The  RecJiabites  to  his 
eloquent  nephew.  Dr.  Edgar  read  the  sermon,  and 
then  rising  from  his  seat  proceeded  swiftly  to  carry 
all  the  whiskey  he  had  in  the  house  into  the  street 
and  empty  it  into  the  gutter.  With  that  drink- 
offering  Dr.  Edgar  inaugurated  the  great  temper- 
ance reform.  From  Ireland  he  passed  to  Scotland, 
and  from  Scotland  to  England.  The  whole 
kingdom  was  mightily  stirred,  and  the  temperance 
cause  has  ever  since  continued  to  flourish.  The 


128  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

little  seed,  stimulated  at  first  by  the  Bronte  public- 
houses,  has  become  a  great  tree,  the  branches  of 
which  extend  to  all  lands. 

We  have  now  seen  the  Brontes  in  the  daily  round 
of  their  common  pursuits.  In  the  next  chapter 
we  shall  see  old  Hugh  in  the  light  of  his  Bronte 
genius. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE   IRISH   RACONTEUR,   OR   STORY-TELLER 

THE  liakkawati  is  the  Oriental  story-teller, 
the  man  who,  beyond  all  others,  relieves  the 
tedium  and  wearisomeness  of  Oriental  life.  I  have 
often  watched  the  Oriental  hakkawati,  seated  in 
the  centre  of  a  large  crowd,  weaving  stories  with 
subtle  plots  and  startling  surprises,  using  pathos 
and  passion  and  pungent  wit,  and  always  inter- 
spersing his  narratives  with  familiar  incidents,  and 
laying  on  local  colour  to  give  an  appearance  of 
vraisemblancc,  or  reality,  to  the  wildest  fancies. 

The  Arabian  hakkawati  generally  tells  his 
stories  at  night  when  the  weird  and  wonderful  are 
most  effective.  He  has  always  a  fire  so  arranged 
as  to  light  up  his  countenance  with  a  ruddy  glow, 
so  that  the  movements  and  contortions  of  a  mobile 
face  may  add  support  to  the  narrative.  He  some- 
times proceeds  slowly,  stumbling  and  correcting 
himself  as  Disraeli  used  to  do,  as  if  his  one  great 
desire  were  to  stick  to  the  literal  truth. 

Without    any    apparent    effort    to    please,   the 
129  9 


130  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

liakkawati  keeps  his  finger  on  the  pulse  of  his 
audience.  Should  they  show  signs  of  weariness, 
he  makes  them  smile  by  some  pleasantry  ;  and  as 
the  Arab  holds  that  smiles  and  tears  are  in  the 
same  kliurg,  or  wallet,  he  brings  something  of 
great  seriousness  on  the  heels  of  the  fun,  and 
works  himself  into  a  white  heat  of  passion  over  it, 
the  veins  rising  like  cords  on  his  forehead  and  his 
whole  frame  convulsed  and  throbbing,  the  rapt 
audience  following  in  full  sympathy  with  every 
word. 

I  have  seen  the  Arabs  shivering  and  pale  with 
terror  as  the  hakkawdti  narrated  the  fearful  deeds 
of  some  imaginary  Jann ;  and  I  have  seen  them 
feeling  for  their  daggers,  and  ready  to  spring  to 
their  feet,  to  avenge  some  dastard  act  of  imaginary 
cruelty,  and  a  few  seconds  after  I  have  seen  them 
melted  to  tears  at  the  recital  of  some  fanciful 
tale  of  woe.  I  never  wearied  of  listening  to  the 
hakkawdti,  or  in  watching  the  artlessness  of  his 
consummate  art ;  and  I  have  always  looked  on  him 
as  the  most  interesting  of  all  Orientals,  a  positive 
benefactor  to  his  illiterate  countrymen. 

Hugh  Bronte  was  an  Irish  hakkawati,  almost 
the  last  of  an  extinct  race.  I  knew  several  men 
who  had  heard  him  when  he  was  at  his  best.  He 
would  sit  long  winter  nights  in  the  logic-hole  of  his 
corn-kiln,  in  the  Emdale  cottage,  telling  stories  to 
an  audience  of  rapt  listeners  who  thronged  around 


THE  IRISH  RACONTEUR,    OR  STORY-TELLER     131 

him.  Mrs.  Bronte  plied  her  knitting  in  the  outer 
darkness  of  the  kitchen,  for  there  was  no  light 
except  from  the  furnace  of  the  kiln,  which  lighted 
up  old  Hugh's  face  as  he  beeked  the  kiln  and  told 
his  yarns. 

The  Rev.  W.  McAllister,  from  whom  I  got  most 
details  as  to  Bronte's  story-telling,  had  heard  his 
father  say  that  he  spent  a  night  in  Bronte's  kiln. 
Bronte's  fame  was  then  new.  The  place  was 
crowded  to  suffocation.  At  that  time  he  reserved 
a  place  near  the  fire  for  Mrs.  Bronte,  and  Patrick, 
then  a  baby,  was  lying  on  the  heap  of  seeds  from 
which  the  fire  was  fed,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  his 
father,  and  listening  like  the  rest  in  breathless 
silence. 

Hugh  Bronte  seems  to  have  had  the  rare  faculty 
of  believing  his  own  stories,  even  when  they  were 
purely  imaginary  ;  and  he  would  sometimes  conjure 
up  scenes  so  unearthly  and  awful  that  both  he 
and  his  hearers  were  afraid  to  part  company  for 
the  night.  Frequently  his  neighbours  could  not 
face  the  darkness  alone  after  one  of  Hugh's 
gruesome  stories,  and  lay  upon  the  shelling  seeds 
till  day  dawned. 

The  farmers'  sons  of  the  whole  neighbourhood 
used  to  gather  round  Bronte  at  night  to  hear  his 
narratives,  and  he  continued  to  manufacture 
stories  of  all  descriptions  as  long  as  he  lived. 

I   have  always  understood  that  Hugh  Bronte's 


132  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

stories,  though  sometimes  rough  in  texture,  and 
interspersed  with  emphatic  expletives,  after  the 
manner  of  the  time,  had  always  a  healthy,  moral 
bearing.  As  a  genuine  Irishman,  he  never  used 
an  immodest  word,  or  by  gesture,  phrase,  or 
innuendo,  suggested  an  impure  thought.  On  this 
point  all  my  informants  were  unanimous.  He 
neither  used  unchaste  words  himself,  nor  permitted 
any  one  to  do  so  in  his  house.  Tyranny  and 
cruelty  of  every  kind  he  denounced  fiercely. 
Faithlessness  and  deceit  always  met  condign 
punishment  in  his  romances  ;  and  in  cases  where 
girls  had  been  betrayed,  either  the  ghost  of  the 
injured  woman  or  the  devil  himself  in  some 
awful  form  wreaked  unutterable  vengeance  on  the 
betrayer. 

Hugh  Bronte  was  a  moral  teacher,  and  a  power 
for  good  as  far  as  his  influence  extended.  There 
are  still  some  old  men  living  in  his  neighbourhood 
who  never  understood  him,  and  who  are  disposed 
to  think  he  was  in  league  with  the  devil. 

It  is  always  at  his  peril  that  any  man  dares  to 
live  before  his  time,  or  to  leave  the  beaten  track 
of  the  commonplace.  The  reformers  have  all 
without  exception  been  mad,  or  worse,  in  the  eyes 
of  dull  conservatism.  Bronte  dared  to  teach  his 
neighbours  by  allowing  them  to  see  as  well  as 
hear,  and  those  who  were  too  stupid  to  understand 
were  clever  enough  to  denounce.  By  a  very  great 


THE  IRISH  RACONTEUR,    OR  STORY-TELLER     133 

effort  Hugh  Bronte  learned  to  read  late  in  life. 
He  began  at  Mount  Pleasant,  with  no  higher  aim 
than  that  of  being  able  to  write  letters  to  Alice 
McClory  when  he  could  no  longer  visit  her.  He 
made  rapid  strides  in  learning  under  the  tutelage 
of  his  master's  children  when  he  lived  in  Loughorne, 
and  when  he  went  to  live  in  Emdale  he  knew  the 
sweetness  and  solace  of  a  few  good  books  ;  and  he 
had  always  a  book  on  his  knee,  which  he  read  by 
the  light  of  the  kiln  fire  when  he  was  alone.  He 
knew  the  Bible,  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  Burns's 
poems  well.  Those  were  bookless  days.  The 
newspaper  had  not  yet  found  its  way  to  the  people, 
and  in  a  neighbourhood  of  mental  stagnation  it 
was  something  to  have  one  man  who  could  hold 
the  mirror  up  to  nature  and  lead  his  illiterate 
visitors  into  enchanted  ground. 

Many  of  Hugh's  stories  were  far  removed  from 
the  region  of  romance  ;  but  he  had  the  literary  art 
of  giving  an  artistic  touch  to  everything  he  said, 
which  added  a  charm  to  the  narration  independent 
of  the  facts  which  he  narrated.  The  story  of  his 
early  life  which  I  have  tried  to  reduce  to  simple 
prose  was  delivered  in  the  rhapsodic  style  of  the 
ancient  bards,  but  simple  enough  to  be  understood 
by  the  most  unlettered  plough-boy.  And  I  have 
always  understood  that  none  of  Bronte's  stories 
were  so  acceptable  as  the  plain  record  of  his  early 
hardships. 


134  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Mingled  with  all  his  stories  shrewd  maxims  for 
life  and  conduct  were  interwoven ;  but  in  his 
oration  on  tenant-right  he  broke  new  ground,  and 
showed  that,  under  different  circumstances,  he  might 
have  been  an  advanced  statesman,  and  saved  his 
country  from  unutterable  woe. 

Hugh  was  superstitious,  but  while  his  super- 
stitious character  descended  to  all  his  children,  the 
faculty  of  story-telling  was  inherited,  as  far  as  I 
have  been  able  to  ascertain,  by  Patrick  alone.  All 
the  sons  and  daughters  talked  with  a  dash  of 
genius  ;  but  I  have  never  heard  of  any  of  them 
except  Patrick  trying  to  tell  a  story. 

Patrick  at  the  age  of  two  or  three  used  to  lie  on 
the  warm  shelling  seeds,  and  listen  to  his  father's 
entrancing  stories  as  if  he  understood  what  was 
being  said,  and  he  seems  to  have  caught  some- 
thing of  his  father's  gift  and  power.  Miss  Nussey 
has  often  told  me  of  Patrick's  power  to  rivet 
the  attention  of  his  children,  and  awe  them  with 
realistic  descriptions  of  simple  scenes.  All  the 
girls  used  to  sit  in  breathless  silence,  their  pro- 
minent eyes  starting  out  of  their  heads,  while  their 
father  unfolded  lurid  scene  after  scene  ;  but  the 
greatest  effect  was  produced  on  Emily,  who 
seemed  to  be  unconscious  of  everything  else 
except  her  father's  story,  and  sometimes  the  de- 
scriptions became  so  vivid,  intense,  and  terrible, 
that  they  had  to  implore  him  to  desist. 


THE  IRISH  RACONTEUR,   OR  STORY-TELLER     135 

Miss  Nussey  had  opportunities  for  observing  the 
Bronte  girls  that  no  other  person  had.  She  became 
Charlotte's  friend  at  school  when  both  were  home- 
sick and  needed  friends.  She  continued  to  be  her 
fast  friend  through  life.  Gentle  Annie  Bronte 
died  in  her  arms,  and  she  was  Charlotte's  true 
consoler  when  the  heroic  Emily  passed  swiftly 
away.  She  early  discovered  the  ring  of  genius  in 
Charlotte's  letters,  and  preserved  every  scrap  of 
them,  and  it  is  chiefly  through  those  letters  that 
the  Brontes  are  known  in  England.  She  was 
Charlotte's  confidante  in  all  private  transactions 
and  love  matters,  and  she  might  have  been  a  nearer 
friend  still  had  Charlotte  not  refused  an  offer  of 
marriage  from  her  brother,  an  incident  in  the 
novelist's  life  here  for  the  first  time,  I  believe, 
made  public. 

Miss  Nussey  was  not  only  Charlotte's  devoted 
friend,  but  she  was  a  constant  visitor  at  Haworth, 
and  a  keen  observer.  She  had  a  great  power  of 
discernment  in  literary  matters,  and  a  very  con- 
siderable literary  gift  herself.  She  had  not  to  wait 
till  Jane  Eyre  and  Wuthering  Heights  were  published 
to  learn  that  Charlotte  and  Emily  were  endowed 
with  genius.  We  owe  it  to  her  penetrating  sagacity 
that  we  know  so  much  of  the  vicar's  daughters. 
She  watched  their  growth  of  intellect,  and  every- 
thing that  ministered  to  it,  and  she  believes  firmly 
that  the  girls  caught  their  inspiration  from  their 


136  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

father,  and  that  Emily  got  not  only  her  inspiration, 
but  most  of  her  facts  from  her  father's  narratives.* 

"  The  dirty,  ragged,  black-haired  child  "  brought 
home  by  Mr.  Earnshaw  from  Liverpool  is  none  other 
than  the  real  dirty,  naked,  black-haired  foundling 
discovered  on  the  boat  between  Liverpool  and 
Drogheda,  and  taken  home  by  Charlotte's  great- 
great-grandfather  and  great-great-grandmother  to 
the  banks  of  the  Boyne.  The  artist,  however,  is  not 
a  mere  copyist,  and  hence,  while  the  story  starts  from 

*  Swinburne,  in  his  Note  on  Charlotte  Bronte,  says : 
"  Charlotte  evidently  never  worked  so  well  as  when  painting 
more  or  less  directly  from  nature.  ...  In  most  cases 
probably  the  design  begun  by  means  of  the  camera  was 
transferred  for  completion  to  the  canvas."  In  contrasting 
Charlotte  with  her  sister,  he  says:  "Emily  Bronte,  like 
William  Blake,  would  probably  have  said,  or  at  least  pre- 
sumably have  felt,  that  such  study  after  the  model  was  to 
her  impossible — an  attempt  but  too  certain  to  diminish  her 
imaginative  insight,  and  disable  her  creative  hand."  Surely 
the  highest  imaginative  insight  and  deftest  creative  hand 
work  from  the  model,  nature,  though  the  result  may  not  be  a 
mere  portrait  of  the  model ! 

No  author  has  so  narrowly  missed  understanding  Emily 
Bronte's  character  as  Miss  A.  Mary  F.  Robinson.  In  her 
book  Emily  Bronte,  one  of  the  "Eminent  Women"  Series, 
she  declares  that,  "While  the  West  Riding  has  known 
the  prototype  of  nearly  every  person  and  nearly  every 
place  in  Jane  Eyre  and  Shirley,  not  a  single  character  in 
Wuthering  Heights  ever  climbed  the  hills  round  Haworth." 
Here  Miss  Robinson  was  on  the  way  to  the  mystery,  and  she 
comes  still  nearer  to  it  when  she  narrates  how  the  Rev. 
Patrick  Bronte  used  to  "  entertain  the  baby  Emily  with  his 
Irish  tales  of  violence  and  horror."  She  turned  her  back  on 


THE  IRISH  RACONTEUR,   OR  STORY-TELLER     137 

existing  facts  and  follows  the  general  outline  of 
the  real,  it  is  not  the  very  image  of  the  real,  and 
makes  deviations  from  the  original  facts  to  meet 
the  exigencies  of  art. 

There  is  no  difficulty  in  recognising  the  original 
of  the  "incarnate  fiend"  Heathcliffe  in  the  man 
Welsh  who  tormented  Hugh  Bronte,  Patrick's 
father,  in  the  old  family  home  near  Drogheda. 
Had  Welsh  never  played  the  demon  among  the 

the  truth,  however,  when  she  gave  currency  to  the  silly  theory 
that  Emily,  in  Wuthering  Heights,  was  simply  making  printer's 
copy  of  her  brother's  shame,  "a  chart  of  proportions  by 
which  to  measure,  and  to  which  to  refer,  for  correct  investiture, 
the  inspired  idea."  Nor  was  Miss  Robinson  altogether  innocent 
in  placing  such  a  stigma  on  the  memory  of  Emily  Bronte,  for 
she  writes,  "  Emily  cared  more  for  fairy  tales,  wild,  unnatural, 
strange  fancies,  suggested,  no  doubt,  in  some  degree  by  her 
father's  weird  Irish  stories.  .  .  .  Mr.  Bronte  loved  to  relate 
fearful  stories  of  superstitious  Ireland,  or  barbarous  legends 
of  the  rough  dwellers  in  the  moors.  .  .  .  Emily,  familiar 
with  all  the  wild  stories  of  Haworth  for  a  century  back, 
and  nursed  on  grisly  Irish  horrors,  tales  of  1798,  tales  of 
oppression  and  misery, — Emily,  with  all  this  eerie  lore  at 
her  finger-ends,  would  have  the  less  difficulty  in  combining 
and  working  the  separate  motives  into  a  consistent  whole." 
It  is  a  pity  that  an  excellently  written  book  has  been  vitiated 
by  an  unworthy  hypothesis.  Miss  Nussey,  from  whom 
Miss  Robinson  got  most  of  her  information,  gave  no  counte- 
nance to  her  theory.  Emily  Bronte  never  looked  on  her 
brother  with  a  frown.  The  more  commonplace  Charlotte 
sulked  and  complained ;  but  no  word  of  reproach  ever  passed 
Emily's  lips,  and  no  power  in  the  universe  could  have  drawn 
from  her  one  syllable  of  censure  for  thoughtless  gossip  to 
work  upon. 


138  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Brontes,  Emily  Bronte  had  never  placed  on  canvas 
Heathcliffe,  "  child  neither  of  Lascar  nor  gipsy, 
but  a  man's  shape  animated  by  demon  life — a 
ghoul,  an  afreet." 

Nelly  Dean,  the  benevolent  but  irresolute  medium 
of  romance  and  tragedy,  is  Hugh's  Aunt  Mary, 
clear-eyed  as  to  right  and  duty,  but  ever  slipping 
down  before  the  force  of  circumstances.  And  old 
Gallagher  on  the  banks  of  the  Boyne,  with  the 
"  Blessed  Virgin  and  all  the  saints  "  on  his  side, 
is  none  other  than  the  original  of  the  old  hypo- 
crite Joseph.  Gallagher  is  Joseph  speaking  the 
Yorkshire  dialect. 

And  Edgar  Linton  is  the  gentle  and  forgiving 
brother  of  Alice,  our  friend  Red  Paddy  McClory, 
who  took  his  sister  home  after  her  runaway  marriage 
with  a  Protestant,  and  finally  took  the  whole 
Bronte  family  under  his  roof  and  gave  them  all 
he  possessed.  Even  Isabella  Linton's  flight  and 
marriage  had  solid  foundation  in  fact,  either  in 
Alice  Bronte's  romantic  elopement  with  Hugh, 
or  in  the  more  tragic  circumstances  of  Mary 
Bronte's  marriage  with  Welsh. 

It  is  not  credible,  I  again  assert,  that  Patrick 
Bronte  in  his  story-telling  moods  never  narrated 
to  his  listening  daughters  the  romance  of  their 
grandfather  and  grandmother.  It  is  true  Miss 
Nussey  never  heard  any  reference  to  the  story, 
nor  did  the  Brontes  ever  in  her  presence  refer  to 


THE  IRISH  RACONTEUR,   OR  STORY-TELLER     139 

their  Irish  home  or  friends  or  history,  though  at 
the  very  time  she  was  visiting  Haworth  they 
were  in  constant  communication  with  their  Irish 
relatives,  and,  as  we  shall  see,  one  of  the  uncles 
actually  visited  them  as  Charlotte's  champion,  and 
one  of  them  had  visited  Haworth  at  an  earlier 
date. 

The  Brontes  were  too  proud  to  talk  even  to  their 
most  intimate  friends  of  their  Irish  home,  much  less 
to  expose  the  foibles  of  their  immediate  ancestors 
to  phlegmatic  English  ears  ;  but  Patrick  Bronte 
would  not  omit  to  tell  his  daughters  the  thrilling 
adventures  of  their  ancestors  ;  and  the  girls,  having 
brooded  over  the  incidents,  reproduced  them  in 
variant  forms,  and  in  the  sombre  setting  of  their 
own  surroundings. 

The  originals  lived  and  died,  acted  and  were 
acted  upon  in  Louth  and  Down  ;  but  on  the  steeps 
of  Wuthering  Heights  they  strut  again,  speaking 
with  the  Yorkshire  brogue  and  braced  by  the  tonic 
air  of  the  northern  downs.  None  of  the  stories 
betray  their  origin  so  clearly  as  WutJiering  Heights, 
just  as  none  of  the  novelists  were  so  fascinated 
with  their  father's  tales  as  Emily.  But  the  stories 
are  all  Bronte  stories,  an  echo  of  the  thrilling 
narratives  related  by  old  Hugh,  and  retold  to 
his  children,  I  believe,  a  hundred  times  by 
Patrick. 

Of  course  all  the  stories  are  made  to  live  again 


1 40  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

under  new  forms,  each  writer  giving  the  stamp  of 
her  own  character  to  the  new  creations,  and  each 
adding  the  necessary  rouge  which  fiction  requires  to 
make  up  for  fact.  Artists  of  the  Bronte  stamp  are 
not  portrait  painters  nor  mere  reproducers.  They 
never  were  content  to  be  mere  lackeys  of  nature. 
They  were  above  nature,  and  everything  without 
and  within  themselves  they  placed  under  contribu- 
tion. 

Even  the  rough  and  rugged  characters  that  have 
come  from  the  hands  of  Emily  show  the  work 
of  the  artist.  She  added  to  the  repulsive  Heath- 
cliffe  qualities  of  her  own.  She  is  perfectly  serious 
when  she  puts  into  Lockwood's  mouth  the  following 
words  :  "  Possibly,  some  people  might  suspect  him 
(Heathcliffe)  of  a  degree  of  underbred  pride.  1 
have  a  sympathetic  chord  within  that  tells  me  it 
is  nothing  of  the  sort.  I  know,  by  instinct,  his 
reserve  springs  from  an  aversion  to  showy  displays 
of  feeling, — to  manifestations  of  mutual  kindliness. 
He'll  love  and  hate  equally  under  cover,  and  esteem 
it  a  species  of  impertinence  to  be  loved  or  hated 
again.  No  :  I'm  running  on  too  fast ;  I  bestow  my 
own  attributes  over  liberally  on  him." 

Knowing  the  model  from  which  Emily  Bronte 
worked,  there  are  few  passages  that  throw  more 
light  on  the  artist  than  this. 

Catherine  Linton  was  modelled  on  the  lovely 
Alice  McClory,  who  bequeathed  to  her  clever 


THE  IRISH  RACONTEUR,   OR  STORY-TELLER     141 

granddaughters  all  the  personal  attractions  they 
possessed  ;  but  here  again  Emily  bestows  attributes 
of  herself  and  sisters  on  her  stately  and  lily-like 
grandmother  : — - 

"  She  (Catherine)  was  slender,  and  apparently 
scarcely  past  girlhood  :  an  admirable  form,  and 
the  most  exquisite  little  face  that  I  have  ever  had 
the  pleasure  of  beholding ;  small  features,  very 
fair ;  flaxen  ringlets,  or  rather  golden,  hanging 
loose  on  her  delicate  neck  ;  and  eyes,  had  they 
been  agreeable  in  expression,  that  would  have 
been  irresistible." 

The  picture  is  neither  that  of  a  Bronte  of  the 
Haworth  vicarage,  nor  is  it  a  portraiture  of  the 
flower  plucked  in  Ballynaskeagh  by  Hugh 
Bronte  ;  but  it  is  Alice  McClory  diluted  with  an 
infusion  of  the  Penzance  Branwells,  and  the  effect 
is  a  perfect  and  beautiful  picture,  more  pleasing 
indeed  than  a  lifelike  portrait  with  all  the  radiant 
beauty  of  the  charming  Alice  when  she  rode  off 
to  Magherally  Church  with  the  dashing  Hugh 
Bronte. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

HUGH   BRONTE   AS   A   TENANT-RIGHTER 

HUGH  BRONTE  worked  up  to  his  tenant- 
right  doctrines  by  a  series  of  assertions, 
negative  and  positive,  on  religious,  political,  and 
economic  questions.  His  address  in  which  he  set 
forth  his  views  on  such  matters,  approximated  to 
the  form  of  a  lecture  more  nearly  than  any  of  his 
other  talks,  which  were  generally  in  the  narrative 
form.  The  following  are  the  chief  points  of  the 
discourse  as  given  to  me  by  my  old  tutor  and 
friend,  and  the  propositions  were  never  varied, 
except  in  the  mere  wording,  although  the  state- 
ment had  never,  I  believe,  except  by  myself,  been 
formally  written  out. 

Hugh  Bronte  always  began  with  a  little  black 
Bible  in  his  hand  or  on  his  knee,  and  his  first 
negative  assertion  was  : — 

I.  THE  CHURCH  is  NOT  CHRIST'S. 

Laying  his  hand  on  the  little  book  he  would 
declare  that  he  found  grace  in  the  Bible,  but  in 
the  Church  only  greed.  Once,  and  only  once,  he 
had  appealed  to  a  parson.  He  was  hungry,  naked, 

142 


HUGH  BRONTE  AS  A    TENANT-LIGHTER        143 

and  bleeding  ;  but  the  great  double-chinned,  red- 
faced  man  had  looked  on  him  as  if  he  were  a  rat, 
and  without  hearing  his  story  had  him  driven  off 
by  a  grand-looking  servant  in  livery,  who  cracked 
a  whip  over  his  head  and  swore  at  him. 

In  Hugh  Bronte's  eyes  the  parsons  got  their 
livings  for  political  services,  and  not  for  learning 
or  goodness.  Enormous  sums  were  paid  to  them 
to  do  work  that  they  did  not  do.  They  rarely 
visited  their  parishes,  and  their  duties  were  per- 
formed by  hungry  and  ill-paid  curates.  When 
they  did  return  occasionally  to  their  livings,  they 
were  heard  of  at  banquets,  where  they  ate  and 
drank  too  freely,  and  at  other  resorts,  where  they 
gambled  recklessly.  They  were  seen  riding  over 
the  country  after  foxes  and  hounds,  and  sitting 
in  judgment  on  the  men  whose  grain  they  had 
trampled  down,  and  sending  them  to  penal  servi- 
tude for  trapping  hares  in  their  own  gardens. 
They  were  said  to  be  ignorant,  but  they  were 
known  to  be  immoral,  irreligious,  arrogant,  and 
cruel.  They  acted  as  the  ministers  of  the  gentry, 
before  whom  they  were  very  humble  ;  and  they 
utterly  despised  the  people  who  paid  for  their 
luxuries  and  supported  their  own  priests  besides. 

They  gave  the  sanction  of  the  Church  to 
violence,  craft,  and  crime  in  high  places,  and  they 
were  as  far  removed  as  men  could  be,  in  origin, 
position,  and  practice,  from  the  Apostles  of  the 


144  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

New  Testament.  And  yet,  he  added,  they  claimed 
in  the  most  haughty  manner  that  they,  and  they 
alone,  were  the  successors  of  the  Apostles,  although 
they  showed  no  signs  of  apostolic  spirituality  or 
apostolic  service. 

Hugh  Bronte  declared  that  he  could  not  submit 
to  the  Protestant  parson  who  despised  him  because 
he  was  poor,  and  could  not  aid  in  his  promotion  ; 
nor  could  he  yield  obedience  to  the  Catholic  priest 
who  demanded  utter  subjection  and  prostration  of 
both  body  and  mind,  and  enforced  his  Church's 
claims  by  a  stout  stick.  With  these  views  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Hugh  Bronte  did  not 
belong  to  any  Church. 

To  us  now,  who  know  the  high  character  of  the 
Irish  clergy,  his  statements  appear  exaggerated 
and  sweeping  ;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  he 
spoke  of  them  generally,  in  the  closing  decades  of 
the  last  century.  He  expressed  himself  fiercely 
regarding  the  parsons,  and  in  return  they  dubbed 
him  atheist. 

His  second  negative  assertion  was  : — 

II.  THE  WORLD  is  NOT  GOD'S. 

He  knew  from  the  Bible  that  God  had  made  all 
things  very  good,  and  that  He  loved  the  world  ; 
but  he  held  that  a  number  of  people  had  got  in 
between  God  and  His  world  and  made  it  very 
bad  and  hateful.  They  were  known  as  kings  and 
emperors  and  rulers,  and  they  had  seized  on  the 


HUGH  BRONTE  AS  A    TENANT-RIGHTER       145 

world  by  fraud  and  force.  They  lived  on  the  best 
of  everything  that  the  land  produced,  and  when 
they  disagreed  among  themselves  they  sent  their 
people  to  kill  each  other  on  their  account,  while 
they  sat  at  home  in  peace  and  luxury. 

These  usurpers  not  only  held  sway  over  the 
possessions  and  lives  of  men,  but  they  decreed  the 
very  thoughts  men  were  to  entertain  concerning 
God,  and  the  exact  words  they  were  to  speak 
regarding  Him,  and  when  men  presumed  to  obey 
God  rather  than  men  they  were  tied  to  stakes  and 
burnt  to  death  as  blasphemers.  For  such  senti- 
ments as  these  Hugh  Bronte  was  denounced  as  a 
socialist,  a  very  bad  and  dangerous  name  at  the 
beginning  of  the  present  century. 

His  third  negative  proposition  was  : — 

III.  IRELAND  is  NOT  THE  KING'S. 

He  understood  that  King  George  III.  was  not  a 
wise  man,  but  that  he  was  a  humane  man.  Ireland 
was  not  governed  by  King  George  III.,  but  by  a 
gang  of  rapacious  brigands.  They  constantly  in- 
voked the  King's  name,  but  only  to  serve  more  fully 
their  own  selfish  ends.  By  the  King's  authority 
they  carried  out  their  policy  of  systematic  outrage, 
until  he  hated  the  very  name  of  the  King  whom  he 
always  wished  to  love. 

The  chief  business  of  the  King's  representatives 
was  to  plunder  His  Majesty's  poorer  subjects.  For 
this  purpose  the  country  was  parcelled  out,  and 

10 


146  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

divided  among  a  number  of  base  and  greedy 
adventurers  in  return  for  odious  services.  Each 
of  these  adventurers  became  petty  king,  or  landlord, 
in  his  own  district,  and  lived  on  the  wretched 
natives.  Every  meskin  of  butter  made  on  the 
farm,  every  pig  reared  in  the  cabin,  every  egg  laid 
by  the  hens  that  roosted  in  the  kitchen  went  to 
support  the  landlord-king. 

The  cottages  were  mud  hovels  ;  the  land  was 
bog  and  barren  waste  ;  the  men  and  women  were 
in  rags  ;  the  children  were  hungry,  pinched,  and 
barefooted.  But  the  landlord  carried  off  every- 
thing except  the  potato  crop,  which  was  barely 
sufficient  to  sustain  life. 

The  landlord  was  a  very  great  man.  He  lived 
in  London  near  the  King  in  more  than  royal 
splendour,  or  he  passed  his  time  in  some  of  the 
great  cities  of  Europe,  spending  as  much  on  gay 
women  as  would  have  clothed  and  fed  all  the 
starving  children  on  his  estate. 

In  English  society  his  pleasantries  were  said  to 
be  most  entertaining  regarding  the  poverty,  misery, 
and  squalor  of  his  tenants  whom  he  fleeced  ;  but 
he  took  care  never  to  come  near  them,  lest  his  fine 
sensibilities  should  be  shocked  at  their  condition. 
His  serious  occupation  was  the  making  of  laws  to 
increase  his  own  power  for  rapacity,  and  to  take 
away  from  the  people  every  vestige  of  right  that 
they  might  have  inherited. 


HUGH  BRONTE  AS  A    TENANT-RIGHTER       147 

"  The  landlord  takes  everything,  and  gives 
nothing,"  was  Hugh  Bronte's  simple  form  of  the 
fine  modern  phrase  regarding  landlords'  privileges 
and  duties. 

Hugh  Bronte  maintained  that  the  landlord  was 
a  courteous  gentleman,  graced  with  polished 
manners,  and  that  if  he  had  lived  among  his 
people  he  might  in  time  have  developed  a  heart. 
At  least,  he  could  hardly  have  kept  up  a  gentlemanly 
indifference  in  the  presence  of  squalor  and  misery. 

But  he  kept  quite  out  of  sight  of  his  tenantry,, 
or  he  could  hardly  have  made  so  much  merriment 
about  the  pig  which  was  being  brought  up  among 
the  children  to  pay  for  his  degrading  extravagances. 

The  landlord's  place  among  the  people  was  taken 
by  an  agent,  an  attorney,  and  a  sub-agent.  The 
agent  was  a  local  potentate  whose  will  was  law  - 
the  attorney's  business  was  to  make  the  law  square 
with  the  agent's  acts ;  and  the  under-agent  was 
employed  to  do  mean  and  vile  and  inhuman  acts 
that  neither  the  agent  nor  the  attorney  could 
conveniently  do. 

The  duty  of  the  three  was  to  find  out  by  public 
inspection  and  by  private  espionage  the  uttermost 
farthing  the  tenants  could  pay,  and  extract  it  from 
them  legally.  In  getting  the  landlord's  rent  each 
got  as  much  as  he  could  for  himself.  The  key  of 
the  situation  was  the  word  "  eviction."  Then  Hugh 
told  the  story  of  his  ancestors'  farm. 


148  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

The  Brontes  had  occupied  a  piece  of  forfeited 
land,  with  well-defined  obligations  to  a  chief  or 
landlord.  Soon  the  landlord  succeeded  in  re- 
moving all  legal  restraints  which  in  any  way 
interfered  with  his  absolute  control  of  the  place. 
Remonstrance  and  entreaty  were  alike  unavailing. 
The  alterations  in  title  were  made  by  the  authority 
of  George  III.,  by  the  grace  of  God  King  of 
England,  etc. 

Hugh's  grandfather  drained  the  bog  and  im- 
proved the  land  at  enormous  expense.  Every 
improvement  was  followed  by  a  rise  in  the  rent. 
His  grandfather  built  a  fine  house  on  the  land  by 
money  made  in  dealing,  and  again  the  rent  was 
raised  on  the  increased  value  given  to  the  place 
by  the  tenant's  improvements.  Then  the  vilest 
creature  in  human  form  having  ingratiated  himself 
with  the  agent  by  vile  services,  the  place  was 
handed  over  to  him,  without  one  farthing  of  com- 
pensation to  the  heirs  of  the  man  whose  labour  had 
made  the  place  of  value.  All  these  things  were 
done  in  the  name  of  George  III.,  though  the  King 
had  no  more  to  do  with  the  nefarious  transactions 
than  the  child  unborn. 

From  this  conclusion  Hugh  Bronte  proceeded 
to  his  fourth  negative  proposition  : — 

IV.   IRISH  LAW  is  NOT  JUSTICE. 

He  expressed  regret  that  he  was  unable  to 
respect  the  laws  of  the  country.  According  to 


HUGH  BRONTE  AS  A    TENANT-RIGHTER       149 

his  views  the  laws  were  made  by  an  assembly  of 
landlords  purely  and  solely  to  serve  their  own 
rapacious  desires,  and  not  in  accordance  with  any 
dictates  of  right  and  wrong.  As  soon  might  the 
lambs  respect  the  laws  of  the  wolves  as  the  people 
of  Ireland  respect  the  laws  of  the  landlords. 

From  this  point  he  naturally  arrived  at  his  fifth 
negative  proposition  : — 

V.  OBEDIENCE  TO  LAW  is  NOT  A  DUTY. 
He  said  it  might  be  prudent  to  obey  a  bad  law 

cruelly  administered,  because  disobedience  might 
entail  inconvenient  consequences  ;  but  there  was 
no  moral  obligation  impelling  a  man  to  obey  a  law 
which  outraged  decency,  and  against  which  every 
righteous  and  generous  instinct  revolted.  Human 
laws  should  be  the  reflection  of  Divine  laws ;  but 
the  landlord-made  laws  of  Ireland  had  neither  the 
approval  of  honest  men  nor  the  sanction  of  Divine 
justice. 

Hugh's  sixth  and  last  negative  proposition 
was  : — 

VI.  PATRIOTISM  is  NOT  A  VIRTUE. 

He  held  that  every  man  should  love  his  country, 
and  that  every  Irishman  did  ;  but  he  could  not  do 
violence  to  the  most  sacred  instincts  of  his  nature 
by  any  zeal  to  uphold  a  system  of  government 
which  dealt  with  Ireland  as  the  legitimate  prey  of 
plunderers. 

In  other  lands  men  were  patriotic  because  they 


ISO  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

loved  their  country.  He  loved  his  country  too 
well  to  be  a  patriot.  Love  of  country  more  than 
any  other  passion  had  prompted  to  the  purest 
patriotism  ;  but  who  would  do  heroic  acts  to  main- 
tain a  swarm  of  harpies  to  pollute  and  lacerate 
his  country?  who  would  have  his  zeal  aglow 
to  maintain  the  desolators  of  his  native  land  ? 

Hugh  Bronte  gave  out  his  views  with  a  warmth 
that  betrayed  animus  arising  from  personal  injury. 
He  was  therefore  declared  to  be  disloyal,  and  that 
at  a  time  when  there  was  danger  in  disloyalty. 

About  the  time  Hugh  Bronte  was  enunciating 
these  sentiments  the  rising  of  the  United  Irishmen 
took  place,  and  the  pitched  battle  of  Ballynahinch 
was  fought  in  1798. 

It  has  always  seemed  to  me  strange  that  he 
should  have  passed  through  those  times  in  peace, 
for  the  "  Welsh  Horse  "  devastated  the  country  far 
and  wide  after  the  battle,  and  hundreds  of  inno- 
cent people  were  shot  down  like  dogs.  Besides, 
William,  his  second  son,  was  a  United  Irishman 
and  present  at  the  battle  of  Ballynahinch.  After 
the  battle  he  was  pursued  by  cavalry,  who  fired 
at  him  repeatedly,  but  he  led  them  into  a  bog  and 
escaped. 

Hugh  Bronte  lived  in  a  secluded  glen  ;  but  the 

Welsh  Horse  "  visited  his  house,  and  after  a  short 

parley  with  his  wife,  in  which  neither  understood 

the  other,  one  of  the  soldiers  struck  a  light  into 


HUGH  BRONTE  AS  A    TENANT-RIGHTER       151 

the  thatch.  Hugh  suddenly  appeared,  and  spoke 
to  the  Welsh  soldiers  in  Irish,  which  it  was  supposed 
they  understood  as  being  akin  to  their  own 
language,  and  they  joined  heartily  with  him  in 
extinguishing  the  flames.  They  join'ed  still  more 
heartily  with  Hugh  in  disposing  of  his  stock  of 
whiskey.  The  inability  of  Hugh's  neighbours  to 
communicate  with  the  Welsh  may  account  for  the 
fact  that  a  man  well  known  for  such  advanced 
and  disloyal  views  passed  safely  through  those 
troublous  times. 

Having  completed  his  negative  assertions  or 
paradoxes,  Hugh  Bronte  proceeded  to  state  his 
theories,  or  positive  conclusions.  He  laid  it  down 
as  an  axiom  that  justice  must  be  at  the  root  of 
all  good  government,  and  he  declared  emphatically, 
what  O'Connell  and  agent  Townsend  have  since 
maintained,  that  the  Irish  were  the  most  justice- 
loving  people  in  the  world.  He  also  held  that 
unjust  laws  were  the  fruitful  source  of  nearly  all 
the  turbulence  and  crime  in  Ireland. 

Justice,  he  said,  was  nothing  very  grand.  It 
meant  simply  that  every  man  should  have  his  own 
by  legal  right.  This  definition  brought  him  to 
his  tenant-right  theory.  In  illustration  he  returned 
to  the  story  of  his  ancestral  home  and  the  wrongs 
of  his  ancestors.  He  maintained  that  when  his 
forefathers  drained  the  bog  and  improved  the  land, 
they  were  entitled  to  every  ounce  of  improvement 


152  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

they  had  made.  The  landlord  had  done  nothing 
for  the  land.  He  never  went  near  it,  and  had 
never  spent  one  farthing  upon  it ;  and  he  should 
not  have  been  entitled  to  confiscate  to  his  own 
profit  the  additional  value  given  it  by  the  labour  of 
others. 

He  further  declared  that  a  just  and  wise  legisla- 
tion should  secure  to  every  man,  high  and  low,  the 
fruits  of  his  own  labour ;  and  he  maintained  that 
such  simple  natural  justice  would  produce  con- 
fidence in  Ireland,  and  that  confidence  would  beget 
content  and  industry,  and  that  a  contented  and 
industrious  people  would  soon  learn  to  love  both 
King  and  country,  and  make  Ireland  happy  and 
England  strong.  Just  laws  would  silence  the 
agitator  and  the  blunderbuss,  and  range  the  people 
on  the  side  of  the  rulers. 

Hugh  Bronte  preached  his  revolutionary 
doctrine  of  simple  justice  in  the  cheerless  east 
wind  ;  but  a  little  seed,  carried  I  know  not  how, 
took  root  in  genial  soil,  and  the  revolutionary 
doctrine  of  "  Every  man  his  own"  at  which  the 
political  parsons  used  to  cry  "  Anathema "  and 
the  short-sighted  politicians  used  to  shout  "  Con- 
fiscation," has  become  one  of  the  commonplaces 
of  the  modern  reformation  programme  of  fair 
play. 

The  doctrine  of  common  honesty  enunciated  by 
Hugh  Bronte  has  lately  received  the  approval  of 


HUGH  BRONTE  AS  A    TENANT-RIGHTER       153 

Liberal  and  Conservative  governments  in  what  is 
known  as  "  Tenant-right,"  or  the  "  Ulster  Custom." 

And  here  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  Hugh 
Bronte  was  a  tenant  on  the  estate  which  came  into 
the  possession  of  Sharman  Crawford,* a  landlord  who 
first  took  up  the  cause  of  Irish  tenant-right,  and  after 
spending  a  long  life  in  its  advocacy  bequeathed  its 
defence  to  his  sons  and  daughters. 

The  Crawfords,  like  the  Johnsons  and  Sharmans, 
their  predecessors  in  title,  were  never  absentee- 
landlords,  and  as  men  of  high  Christian  character 
they  always  took  a  personal  interest  in  their 
tenants,  and  would  not,  I  believe,  have  failed  to 
note  any  special  intellectual  activity  among  them. 
It  is  certain,  moreover,  that  the  Sharman  Craw- 
fords,  father  and  son  in  succession,  spent  their  lives 
largely  in  the  propagation  of  Hugh  Bronte's  views, 
both  in  the  House  of  Commons  and  throughout 
the  country ;  and  it  seems  to  me  not  only  probable 
and  possible,  but  morally  certain,  that  Bronte's 

*  I  knew  the  late  W.  Sharman  Crawford,  M.P.,  well ;  and  I 
once  talked  with  him  of  Hugh  Bronte's  tenant-right  theories, 
of  which  he  was  thoroughly  aware.  I  did  not  ask  him  if  his 
father  had  got  his  views  from  Bronte,  as  I  had  no  doubt  of 
the  fact.  Miss  M.  Sharman  Crawford  writes  me  :  "  My  father 
certainly  originated  tenant-right  as  a  public  question,  though 
no  doubt,  long  before  the  period  when  he  strove  to  amend  the 
position  of  Irish  tenants,  many  thoughtful  minds  like  his  must 
have  protested  against  the  legalised  injustice  to  which  they 
were  subject." 


154  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

eloquent  and  passionate  arguments  dropped  into 
the  justice-loving  minds  of  the  Crawfords,  and 
were  the  primary  seeds  of  the  great  agrarian 
harvest  which,  on  the  lines  of  equity  and  with  the 
full  sanction  of  the  legislature,  is  now  being  reaped 
by  the  tenant  farmers  in  Ireland.*, 

Great  results  have  thus  flowed  from  the  inhuman 
treatment  of  a  child.  Had  little  Bronte  been  left  in 
the  luxury  of  his  father's  home,  it  is  not  likely  he 
would  ever  have  been  shaken  up  to  original  and  inde- 
pendent thought ;  but  the  iron  of  cruel  wrong  had 
entered  into  his  soul,  and  he  felt  that  all  was  not 
well.  He  owed  no  gratitude  to  the  existing  order 
of  things,  and  had  no  compunction  in  denouncing 
it ;  and  having  thought  out  and  formulated  a  new 

*  In  1833  W.  Sharman  Crawford  published  a  pamphlet 
embodying  Hugh  Bronte's  doctrines,  and  making  additional 
suggestions  for  the  good  government  of  Ireland.  The 
pamphlet  was  republished  by  Dr.  W.  H.  Dodd,  Q.C.,  in  1892. 
Sergeant  Dodd  is  an  old  pupil  of  the  Ballynaskeagh  school. 
He  received  his  early  education  from  Mr.  McKee,  the  friend 
of  the  Brontes,  and  he  was  acquainted  as  a  student  with 
Charlotte  Bronte's  uncles.  The  following  is  his  summary  of 
the  political  portion  of  the  pamphlet : — 

"  Mr.  Crawford  anticipates,  as  the  probable  result  of 
refusing  self-government  to  Ireland,  the  growth  of  secret 
societies,  the  influence  of  agitation,  and  the  necessity  of 
resorting  to  force  in  the  government  of  the  country.  He 
touches  upon  the  question  of  private  bill  legislation,  of  a 
reform  of  the  grand  jury  system  of  county  government. 

"  He  points  out  that  the  creation  of  county  councils  without 
having  a  central  body  to  control  them  is  not  desirable.  And 


HUGH  BRONTE  AS  A    TENANT-RIGHTER       155 

theory,  he  proclaimed  it  with  the  strong  conviction 
of  an  apostle  who  sees  salvation  in  his  gospel  alone. 
The  daring  character  of  Hugh  Bronte's  specu- 
lations in  their  paradoxical  form,  combined  with 
the  fierce  energy  of  his  manner  in  making  them, 
secured  for  him  an  audience  and  an  amount  of 
consideration  to  which  as  an  uneducated  working 
man  he  could  have  had  no  claims.  Indeed,  Hugh 
Bronte's  revolutionary  doctrines  were  known  far 
beyond  his  own  immediate  neighbourhood ;  and 
while  many  said  he  was  mad,  some  declared  that 
he  only  saw  a  little  clearer  than  his  contem- 
poraries. 

he  suggests  the  creation  of  a  local  legislature  for  Irish  affairs, 
combined  with  representation  in  the  Imperial  Parliament, 
as  the  true  method  of  preserving  the  Union,  as  the  surest 
bond  of  the  connection  between  the  two  countries,  and  as 
essentially  necessary  to  tranquillity  in  Ireland. 

"  He  refers,  among  other  measures,  to  the  disestablishment 
of  the  Irish  Church,  and  the  reform  of  the  relations  between 
landlord  and  tenant  as  being  pressing. 

"  The  arguments  against  his  views  are  met  and  answered. 
One  would  think  he  had  read  some  of  the  speeches  lately 
delivered,  so  apt  is  his  reply. 

"  It  is  curious  to  note  the  length  of  time  Ireland  has  had 
to  wait  for  the  reforms  he  thought  urgent ;  and  it  is  sad  to 
reflect  how  much  suffering  has  been  endured,  and  how  much 
blood  has  been  shed,  because  the  men  of  his  time  would  not 
listen  to  his  words." 


CHAPTER    XVII 

THE   BRONTE   FAMILY  :   GENEALOGICAL 

IT  is  desirable  here,  at  the  risk  of  repetition,  to 
take  a   general  survey   of  the    Bronte  family 
before  proceeding  to  specific  details  regarding  the 
different  members. 

Shortly  after  the  events  which  in  1688  rendered 
the  Boyne  memorable,  Hugh  Bronte  (i)  the  elder 
occupied,  as  we  have  already  seen,  a  house  and 
farm  on  the  banks  of  that  river.  It  is  not  impro- 
bable that  he  received  his  possession  for  imperial 
services  rendered  in  those  turbulent  times. 

As  we  have  also  already  seen,  disaster  befell 
Bronte's  children  through  the  artifices  of  the  found- 
ling called  Welsh,  who  had  been  brought  up  in  the 
family.  He  was  supposed  to  have  murdered  and 
robbed  old  Hugh,  and  he  finally  possessed  himself 
of  his  farm  and  of  his  youngest  daughter,  Mary. 

The  rest  of  the  family  were  scattered  abroad 
and  disappeared  ;  but  a  young  Hugh  (2),  a  son  of 
one  of  the  dispersed  brothers,  came  to  live  with 
his  aunt  Mary  and  her  husband  Welsh,  who  had 
assumed  the  name  of  Bronte. 

156 


THE  BRONTE   FAMILY:    GENEALOGICAL         157 

This  young  Hugh  was  the  grandson  of  the 
Hugh  Bronte  whom  we  first  met  by  the  banks  of  the 
Boyne,  and  he  became  the  grandfather  of  the  famous 
novelists.  He  had  a  son,  Hugh  (3).  "the  Giant." 

Hugh,  having   escaped   from  Welsh's    bondage, 


THE    LAST    OF   THE    BRONTLS     AUNTS. 

married  Alice  McClory  of  Ballynaskeagh,  a  Catholic 
beauty  ancj  a  pure  Celt.  They  were  married  in 
the  parish  church  of  Magherally  in  1 776. 

Regarding  Hugh's  appearance,  Alice  Bronte,  the 
last  of  his  family,  speaking  to  the  Rev.  J.  B.  Lusk 
only  a  few  days  before  her  death,  said :  "  My 
father  came  originally  from  Drogheda.  He  was 


158  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

not  very  tall,  but  purty  stout ;  he  was  sandy- 
haired,  and  my  mother  fair-haired.  He  was  very 
fond  of  his  children,  and  worked  to  the  last  for 
them.  My  mother  died  after  my  father." 

Hugh  Bronte  went  to  live  with  his  bride  in  the 
little  Emdale  cottage,  and  there  on  the  i/th  of 
March,  1777,  Patrick,  who  became  the  vicar  of 
Haworth  and  father  of  the  novelists,  was  born. 

Mary  Bronte  outlived  her  husband  Welsh,  and 
in  after-years  visited  her  nephew  Hugh  in  County 
Down.  There  is  a  tradition  that  she  was  a  very 
beautiful  woman  at  the  time  of  her  visit ;  but  as  she 
must  have  been  old  then,  there  may  be  a  reference 
to  her  daughter,  who  accompanied  her. 

Alice,  speaking  of  this  visit,  said  :  "  She  came  to 
see  him  in  Emdale.  Tarrible  purty  she  was.  A 
shopkeeper  in  Rathfriland  courted  her.  .  .  .  After 
she  went  home  he  sent  after  her,  but  she  would  not 
take  him." 

The  Emdale  cottage  is  in  the  parish  of  Drum- 
ballyroney,  and  not  in  the  parish  of  Aghaderg, 
as  has  always  been  incorrectly  stated  ;  but  the 
part  of  the  register  in  which  Patrick's  baptism  was 
entered  is  lost* 

*  The  register  of  the  parish  has  lately  been  discovered 
in  Banbridge  by  the  Rev.  H.  W.  Lett  of  Lough brickland. 
Originally  there  were  two  volumes,  and  they  were  sold  as 
waste  paper  for  a  mere  trifle.  One  of  the  volumes  was  bought 
for  fourpence,  and  used  to  paper  up  soap,  candles,  and  such 


THE  BRONTE  FAMILY:   GENEALOGICAL        159 

William,  the  second  son  of  the  family,  was 
baptised  on  the  i6th  of  March,  1779;  Hugh,  the 
third  son,  was  baptised  on  the  27th  of  May,  1781  ; 
James,  the  fourth  son,  was  baptised  on  the  $rd 


PATRICK    BRONTE. 

of  November,  1783  ;  Welsh,  the  fifth  son,  was 
baptised  on  the  I9th  of  February,  1786  ;  Jane,  the 
eldest  daughter  and  sixth  child,  was  baptised  on  the 

things.  The  other  document  rescued  by  Mr.  Lett  contains  the 
minutes  of  the  vestry  meetings  of  Drumballyroney  from  1789 
to  1828.  The  baptismal  register  is  complete  from  1779  to 
1791,  and  contains  the  registration  of  six  of  Patrick  Bronte's 
brothers  and  sisters. 


160  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

1st  of  February,  1789  ;  Mary,  the  second  daughter 
and  seventh  child,  was  baptised  on  the  ist  of  May, 
1791.  The  register  containing  the  names  of  Patrick, 
Rose,  Sarah,  and  Alice,  the  remainder  of  the  family, 
was  destroyed. 

Of  the  ten  children,  Patrick,  the  eldest,  was  born 
in  Emdale,  in  the  parish  of  Drumballyroney ;  and 
Alice,  the  youngest,  in  Ballynaskeagh,  in  the  parish 
of  Aghaderg ;  and  the  remaining  eight,  four  boys 
and  four  girls,  were  born  in  the  house  in  Lisna- 
creevy. 

The  Bronte  girls  were  tall,  red-cheeked,  fair- 
haired,  with  dark  eyelashes,  and  very  handsome. 
They  were  massive,  strong-minded  women  ;  and, 
as  they  despised  men  in  their  own  rank  of  life, 
only  one  of  them  got  married.  Mr.  McCracken 
writes  thus  of  them  :  "  With  regard  to  the  sisters 
of  Patrick  Bronte,  I  have  seen  them  all  except 
the  one  that  was  married.  The  rest  lived  and 
died  unmarried.  They  were  fine,  stalwart,  good- 
looking  women,  with  rather  a  masculine  build 
and  carriage.  Their  lives  were  unstained  by  a 
single  blot.  They  were  not  ordinary  women. 
They  were  essentially  women  of  character,  and  I 
think  men  were  perhaps  a  little  afraid  of  them." 

William,  or,  as  he  was  called,  Billy,  was  a 
United  Irishman.  The  story  of  his  adventures  at 
the  battle  of  Ballynahinch  forms  an  interesting 
chapter,  for  which  I  regret  I  have  no  space  here. 


THE  BRONTE  FAMILY:   GENEALOGICAL 


161 


He  kept  late  in  life  a  shebeen  on  the  Knock  Hill. 
Many  stories,  probably  the  exaggerations  of  his 
enemies,  are  told  of  his  powers  in  the  use  of  strong 
language  and  strong  drink.  He  is  said  to  have 
occasionally  cleared  out  his  own  stock,  and  then 


CHARLOTTE     BRONTE. 


to  have  spent  the  next  six  months  in  repent- 
ance and  close  application  to  business.  He  finally 
retired  from  the  public-house  on  the  advice  of  Mr. 
McKee,  and  went  and  lived  with  a  prosperous  son 
in  Ballyroney.  He  had  six  sons,  all  of  whom  got 
on  well  in  life. 

n 


1 62  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Jamie  worked  sometimes  as  a  shoemaker,  made 
single-soled  boots,  and  was  a  great  favourite  with 
children.  He  visited  Patrick  at  Haworth,  where 
he  spent  some  time.  Alice,  speaking  of  Jamie, 
said,  "  He  took  a  hand  at  everything,  and  he  was 
very  smart  and  active  with  his  tongue."  When 
he  returned  from  Haworth  he  said,  "  Charlotte  is 
tarrible  sharp  and  inquisitive." 

"  Hugh  and  Welsh,"  she  said,  "  were  great  fiddlers, 
and  very  industrious.  They  made  a  great  deal  of 
money  by  macadamising  roads." 

Hugh,  who  was  called  the  Giant,  was  a  religious 
man  in  his  youth  ;  but  towards  the  close  of  his  life 
he  lost  his  faith  and  grew  superstitious.  He  was 
said  to  be  great  in  religious  controversy. 

Welsh  was  the  most  gentlemanly  of  the  brothers. 
Late  in  life  he  set  up  a  sJiebeen  in  the  little  house 
in  Ballynaskeagh.  He  had  two  sons  ;  one  of  them 
was  drowned  and  swept  away  by  a  water-spout 
flood  when  he  was  crossing  the  river  Bann.  The 
other  son,  brought  up  in  the  shebeen,  became  a 
drunkard,  and  after  a  swift  career  of  debauchery, 
compared  with  which  Branwell's  vices  sink  into 
insignificance,  the  kindly  earth  covered  the  pestilent 
thing  out  of  sight. 

There  are  now  in  Ireland  a  number  of  the 
descendants  of  the  Brontes,  who  are  industrious, 
prosperous,  and  in  every  way  most  exemplary. 
There  are  two  or  three  in  a  destitute  condition. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE   BRONTES   AL   FRESCO 

I  PROCEED  with  this  chapter  in  the  first 
person,  though  the  story  came  to  me  at  second 
hand.  My  tutor  narrated  it  to  me  in  the  words  in 
which  he  had  heard  it  from  a  young  cousin  of  his, 
and  I  am  able  to  give  it  almost  in  the  same  words, 
and  in  the  form  in  which  I  wrote  it  out  at  the 
time. 

The  scene  described  does  not,  however,  rest  on 
the  authority  of  Mr.  McAllister  or  his  friend  alone, 
but  on  the  testimony  of  all  who  knew  the  Brontes  in 
their  home  life.  Similar  scenes  have  been  described 
to  me  by  old  men  whose  memory  extended  back 
to  matters  in  the  last  century ;  and  quite  recently 
when  visiting  the  place  Mr.  RatclifTe  pointed  out 
the  exact  spot  where  he  himself  had  witnessed  the 
Brontes  engaged  in  their  amusements.  The  story 
is  so  characteristic  that  I  give  it  in  extenso,  and 
with  all  details  as  I  got  it : — 

"In    1812    I    made,"    said    McAllister's    friend 
"  my  first  great  journey  out   into  the  big  world 

163 


164  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

accompanied  by  my  elder  brother.  We  were  then 
very  young.  The  nature  of  our  business  obliged 
us  to  go  on  foot,  and  the  distance  traversed  was 
two  or  three  miles. 

"  Our  errand  brought  us  into  the  midst  of  the 
Brontes  ;  and  as  we  had  to  remain  there  six  or 
seven  hours,  we  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  under 
various  aspects  that  extraordinary  and  unique 
family  whose  genius  came  to  be  revealed  a  few 
years  later  by  three  little  girls  on  English  soil. 

"We  first  saw  a  group  of  the  Bronte  brothers 
together.  I  think  there  were  six  of  them,  and  they 
were  marching  in  step  across  a  field  towards  a  level 
road.  Their  style  of  marching  and  their  whole 
appearance  arrested  our  attention.  They  were 
dressed  alike  in  home-spun  and  home-knitted 
garments  that  fitted  them  closely,  and  showed  off 
to  perfection  their  large,  lithe,  and  muscular  forms. 
They  were  all  tall  men,  but  with  their  close- 
fitting  apparel  and  erect  bearing  they  appeared 
to  be  men  of  gigantic  stature.  They  bounded 
lightly  over  all  the  fences  that  stood  in  their  way, 
all  springing  from  the  ground  and  alighting 
together ;  and  they  continued  to  march  in  step 
without  an  apparent  effort  until  they  reached  the 
public  road,  and  then  began  in  a  businesslike  way 
to  settle  conditions  in  preparation  for  a  serious 
contest. 

"  A  few  men  and  boys  watched  the  little  group 


THE  BRONTES  AL  FRESCO  165 

of  Brontes  timorously  from  a  distance  ;  but  curiosity 
drew  my  brother  and  myself  close  up  to  where 
they  were  assembled.  They  did  not  seem  to 
notice  us,  or  know  that  we  were  present,  but  pro- 
ceeded with  a  match  of  hurling  a  large  metal  ball 
along  the  road.  The  ball  seemed  to  be  about 
six  pounds  weight,  and  the  one  who  made  it  roll 
farthest  along  the  road  was  declared  the  winner. 

"  The  contest  was  to  them  an  earnest  business. 
Every  ounce  of  elastic  force  in  the  great  muscular 
frames  was  called  into  action,  and  there  was  a 
profusion  of  strange  strong  language  that  literally 
made  our  flesh  to  creep  and  our  hair  to  stand  on 
end.  The  forms  of  expression  which  they  used 
were  as  far  from  commonplace  as  anything  ever 
written  by  the  gifted  nieces ;  and  as  the  uncles' 
lives  were  on  a  lower  plane  of  civilisation,  and 
their  scant  education  had  not  reduced  their  tongues 
to  the  conventional  forms  of  speech,  they  gave 
utterance  to  their  thoughts  with  a  pent-up  and 
concentrated  energy  never  equalled  in  rugged 
force  by  the  novelists. 

"  We  had  never  seen  men  like  the  Irish  Brontes, 
and  we  had  never  heard  language  like  theirs. 
The  quaint  conceptions,  glowing  thoughts,  and 
ferocious  epithets,  that  struggled  for  utterance  at 
their  unlettered  lips,  revealed  the  original  quarry 
from  which  the  vicar's  daughters  chiselled  the 
stones  for  their  artistic  castle-building,  and  dis- 


1 66  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

closed  the  original  fountain  from  which  they  drew 
their  pathos  and  passion.  Similar  fierce  originality 
and  power  are  felt  to  be  present  in  everything 
produced  by  the  English  Brontes  ;  but  in  their 
case  the  intensity  of  energy  is  held  in  check  by  the 
Branwell  temperament,  and  kept  under  restraint 
by  education  and  culture. 

"  The  match  over,  and  the  sweepstakes  secured, 
the  brothers  returned  to  their  harvest  labour  as 
they  went,  clearing  like  greyhounds  every  fence 
that  stood  in  their  way.  At  that  time  no  fame 
attached  to  the  Bronte  name,  but  the  men  that 
we  had  come  upon  were  so  different  from  the  local 
gentry,  farmers,  flax-dressers,  and  such-like  people 
who  lived  around  them,  that  we  became  all  at  once 
deeply  interested  in  them. 

"  From  a  distance  we  watched  their  shining 
sickles  flashing  among  the  golden  grain,  and 
caught  snatches  of  songs  which  we  afterwards  found 
to  be  from  Robert  Burns.  Our  interest,  however, 
in  the  Brontes  was  shared  by  no  one.  They  were 
then  neither  prophets  nor  heroes  in  their  own 
country,  and  they  were  regarded  with  a  kind  of 
superstitious  dread  by  their  neighbours  rather 
than  with  interest  or  curiosity. 

"  Young  as  we  then  were,  we  persevered  with 
our  inquiries,  and  our  curiosity  was  rewarded.  We 
learnt  that  the  Brontes  had  a  brother,  a  clergyman 
in  England,  '  a  fine  gentleman,'  then  on  a  visit  to 


THE  BRONTES  AL  FRESCO  167 

them,  and  that  the  Bronte  family  were  in  the 
habit  of  holding  an  open-air  concert  every  favour- 
able afternoon  in  a  secluded  glen  below  their 
house.  I  remember  wondering  if  the  clergyman 
ever  broke  out  in  the  vigorous  vernacular  of  his 
kith  and  kin  ;  but  we  were  especially  interested  in 
the  open-air  concert. 

"  My  brother  and  I  by  the  nature  of  our  errand 
could  not  return  home  till  late  in  the  evening,  and 
as  we  were  at  leisure  we  made  up  our  minds  to 
assist  at  the  concert.  On  pretence  of  gathering 
blackberries  we  explored  the  glen  and  discovered 
the  place.  No  one  would  accompany  us,  and  we 
were  told  with  uneasy  looks  that  it  would  be  at 
our  peril  if  we  went  to  the  concert,  as  the  brothers 
had  'the  black  art,'  and  were  all  men  to  be 
avoided.  We  resolved,  notwithstanding,  to  go  as 
spectators,  and  waited  with  impatience  till  the 
day's  work  should  be  over. 

"  About  six  o'clock  a  horn  was  blown,  and  the 
reapers  suddenly  dropped  their  sickles  and  strolled 
down  leisurely  to  the  Concert  Glen.  We  had 
already  preceded  them,  and  taken  our  places  on 
a  high  ridge  bordering  on  the  Glen  in  a  thicket  of 
low  brushwood. 

"  Three  sisters  were  the  first  to  arrive  on  the 
scene.  They  brought  a  spinning-wheel,  a  supply 
of  oat-bread  and  buttermilk,  and  a  green  satchel, 
which  contained  a  violin.  The  men  sat  astride 


168  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

the  trunk  of  a  prostrate  tree,  and  disposed  of  their 
afternoon  collation  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of 
time,  one  wooden  bowl,  or  noggin,  supplying  milk 
to  each. 

"  Scarcely  had  the  frugal  meal  been  ended,  when 
one  of  the  brothers  began  to  thrum  the  fiddle,  and 
quick  as  lightning  two  of  the  sisters  and  the  other 
brothers  were  whirling  and  spinning  airily  over 
the  grass.  The  other  sister  was  busily  plying  her 
spinning-wheel  and  \vatching  the  moving  scene. 
In  turns  each  of  the  sisters  took  her  place  at  the 
wheel,  and  the  one  relieved  instantly  plunged  into 
the  mazes  of  the  dance. 

"  The  girls  were  tall  like  their  brothers,  and  pic- 
turesque in  their  red  tippets.  Like  their  brothers, 
they  were  handsome  and  graceful.  They  were 
mature  maidens,  but  they  had  not  lost  their  elegant 
figures  or  their  fresh  red-and-white  complexions. 
Their  home-made  dresses,  though  of  plain  woollen 
material  and  simply  made,  fitted  them  well,  and 
were  in  perfect  harmony  with  their  rustic  sur- 
roundings. Their  hair  hung  in  ringlets  round 
their  shoulders,  and  they  moved  with  unconscious 
grace,  whirling  over  the  greensward  as  if  they 
scarcely  touched  it,  or  mazing  through  a  '  country 
dance,'  or  an  '  eight  point  reel,'  or  waltzing  round 
and  round  in  a  manner  to  make  the  onlooker 
giddy. 

"  There  was  nothing  in  the  performance  suggest- 


THE  BRONTES  AL  FRESCO  171 

ive  of  the  rough  peasant  or  the  country  clown  ;  all 
was  exquisite  grace  and  courtesy.  The  musician 
was  also  relieved  from  time  to  time,  each  of  the 
brothers  taking  his  turn  at  the  violin. 

"  The  scene  was  of  the  most  weird  and  romantic 
character.  The  place  selected  for  the  family  dance 
was  in  a  secluded  widening  of  the  Glen,  down 
which  flows  a  little  stream  that  makes  a  murmuring 
noise  as  it  tumbles  over  stones  and  among  the 
roots  of  alder  and  willow.  It  was  wide  enough  to 
give  full  scope  for  extended  gallops,  and  sufficient 
for  all  the  exigencies  of  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley 
The  ground  was  thickly  carpeted  with  grass,  and 
surrounded  by  large  trees  with  overhanging 
branches  ;  the  trees  were  festooned  with  ivy  and 
honeysuckle,  sweet  briar  and  wild  roses  overflowed 
the  hedges  in  great  profusion,  and  '  flowering 
Sally '  in  pink  bunches  fringed  the  brook. 

"  The  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west,  throwing 
dark  shadows  down  the  sides  of  the  Newry  mount- 
ains, and  shedding  a  pale  glory  on  Slieve  Donnard 
and  the  other  lofty  peaks  of  the  Mourne  Range. 
Close  by  stood  the  Knock  Hill,  generally  sombre 
and  unpicturesque  ;  but  on  that  occasion  it  glowed 
in  the  parting  rays.  The  little  valley  as  it  dipped 
downward  opened  out  to  the  west,  and  through 
the  opening  the  setting  sun  poured  a  rich  flood 
of  light  on  the  animated  group,  mating  each  dancer 
with  a  long  dark  shadow,  and  apparently  doubling 


172  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

the  number  of  figures  that  tripped  lightly  over  the 
grass. 

"  As  the  sun  dropped  behind  the  ridge  of 
Armagh  the  concert  came  to  an  end,  after  a  long 
bout  of  Scotch  jigs,  in  which  two  and  two  in  a 
row  danced  opposite  each  other,  chased  by  their 
tall  unearthly  shadows. 

"  The  closing  scene  was  a  great  effort  of  endur- 
ance, but  none  seemed  to  weary,  and  with  a  few 
skips  into  the  air,  the  arms  raised  in  curves  above 
the  head,  and  the  fingers  of  the  men  being  made 
to  crack,  all  was  still. 

"  There  were  four  spectators  of  this  wonderful 
family  gathering  :  my  brother  and  myself ;  a  goat 
that  was  quietly  barking  a  tree  beside  us,  and 
pausing  occasionally  to  look  at  the  frantic  display ; 
and,  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley  from  where 
we  were,  the  clergyman  brother,  who  walked  to 
and  fro,  in  solemn  black,  apparently  in  meditation, 
and  taking  no  notice  of  the  gleeful  recreation  of 
his  brothers  and  sisters. 

"  There  was  no  dawdling  when  the  dance  was 
over.  Each  of  the  brothers  bowed  with  an  air 
of  gallantry  to  each  of  the  sisters,  and  then  one 
of  the  brothers  caught  up  the  spinning-wheel,  and, 
poising  it  on  his  shoulder,  strode  up  the  home- 
ward side  of  the  Glen.  All  followed  smartly,  and 
disappeared  in  company  with  the  sober  figure  in 
black. 


THE  BRONTES  AL  FRESCO  17$ 

"  We  slipped  out  of  the  bovver,  where  we  had 
sat  entranced,  and  hurried  homeward,  with  feelings 
of  uncertainty  as  to  the  reality  of  things  in  the 
gathering  darkness." 

This  is  the  most  complete  account  I  have  ever 
heard  of  the  summer  evening  concerts  held  by  the 
Brontes.  Others  had  often  seen  the  same  large- 

o 

limbed,  sinewy  children  of  Anak  dancing  on  the 
green  with  their  flying  shadows ;  but  they  had 
failed  to  appreciate  the  sylph-like  motions  of  the 
maidens  or  the  stately  curvetting  of  the  gigantic 
brothers,  and  looked  on  the  whole  exhibition  as 
something  uncanny,  and  as  tending  to  confirm  the 
popular  belief  that  the  Brontes  had  dealings  with 
the  powers  of  the  nether  world. 

The  unique  forms  and  forceful  language  of  the 
,  Brontes  were  lost  on  their  commonplace  neighbours, 
who  looked  on  them  as  strange  and  dangerous 
people.  In  fact,  they  were  not  regarded  with 
much  favour  by  the  people  of  the  district,  from 
whom  they  carefully  held  aloof;  and  the  belief 
that  they  were  in  league  with  the  devil  received 
a  certain  amount  of  confirmation,  as  we  shall  see 
by-and-by. 

When  I  first  began  to  take  an  interest  in  the 
Brontes,  I  was  admonished  in  a  mysterious  manner 
to  have  nothing  to  do  with  such  people.  I  was 
advised  to  keep  out  of  their  way,  lest  I  should  hear 
their  odious  language ;  and  it  was  even  hinted  that 


174  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

they  might,  in  some  satanic  way,  do  me  bodily 
harm. 

I  am  bound  to  say  that  matters  in  this  respect 
have  not  altered  much  since  for  the  better.  My 
attempts  recently  to  get  accurate  information  on 
special  points  regarding  the  Brontes  and  their  ways 
have  been  looked  upon  by  some  as  a  kind  of  craze, 
out  of  which,  I  have  been  assured,  I  was  never 
likely  to  reap  much  credit.  And  even  educated 
people,  when  replying  to  my  inquiries  on  matters 
of  fact,  have  sometimes  felt  called  on  to  remind 
me  that  I  was  taking  much  pains  with  regard  to 
a  dangerous  and  outlandish  family.  In  fact,  the 
Brontes  paid  the  usual  penalty  for  being  a  little 
cleverer  than  the  people  with  whom  they  came  in 
contact  and  with  whom  they  never  associated. 

The  Brontes  looked  down  on  people  in  their . 
own  rank  of  life,  and  permitted  no  familiarities  of 
any  kind ;  and  the  only  person  who  ever  joined  in 
their  dances,  as  far  as  is  known,  was  Farmer  Burns. 
As  they  held  aloof  from  everybody,  they  were  only 
known  by  their  strange  language  and  odd  ways. 
Imagination  filled  up  the  unknown,  and  gossip, 
as  usual,  made  the  most  of  every  little  circum- 
stance. The  fact  that  Mrs.  Bronte  had  once  been 
a  Catholic  prejudiced  in  no  small  degree  the  minds 
of  Protestants  against  the  children. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE   BRONTES,   THE   DEVIL,   AND   THE   POTATO 
BLIGHT 

THE  Concert  Glen  and  romantic  brook  wit- 
nessed very  different  ceremonies  from  that 
just  described.  At  one  period  an  awful  drama 
took  the  place  of  lissom  glee,  when  Hugh  Bronte, 
"  the  giant,"  in  wild  passion,  sought  to  come  into 
actual  bodily  conflict  with  the  devil. 

The  potato  blight  fell  as  a  crushing  blow  on  the 
hopes  of  the  Brontes,  and  proved  the  turning-point 
of  their  fortunes.  They  were  growing  in  pros- 
perity, and  had  enlarged  their  farm  by  the  savings 
of  many  years.  Through  industry  and  frugality 
they  had  added  field  to  field  until  their  material 
success  seemed  to  be  assured ;  but  while  they 
were  rejoicing  in  the  position  to  which  they  had 
attained,  the  potato  crop  blackened  and  melted 
away  before  their  eyes. 

Ireland  at  that  time  had  two  kinds  of  tenant 
farmers.  One  resembled  the  drowsy  Oriental,  who 
basks  in  the  sun,  and  seems  content  not  to  live 
but  to  exist.  A  few  wizened  olives,  a  little  black 


176  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

bread,  and  a  very  small  quantity  of  rancid  oil, 
suffice  to  maintain  the  existence  of  the  lazy 
Oriental.  In  fact,  no  Oriental  ever  died  of  hunger, 
except  in  times  of  general  famine.  The  maximum 
of  indolent  existence  can  be  had  in  the  East  for 
the  minimum  of  toil. 

In  Ireland  a  large  number  of  people  on  the  land 
simply  existed  in  those  days.  They  knew  that  if 
they  drained  or  improved  their  farms,  the  landlords 
would  raise  their  rents,  so  as  to  sweep  away  the 
entire  profits  arising  from  their  improvements. 
They  were  well  aware  that  any  enlargement  or 
brightening  of  their  homesteads  would  cause  the 
agent  to  scent  superfluous  money,  and  put  on  the 
screw,  for  a  tenant  would  be  more  likely  to  make 
an  effort  to  hold  on  to  a  comfortable  house  than 
to  an  uncomfortable  one.  Every  staple  of  thatch 
put  upon  the  leaky  roof,  or  bucket  of  whitewash 
brushed  into  the  sooty  walls  of  the  cabin,  gave  the 
landlord  a  new  hold  on  the  tenant,  and  supplied 
the  agent  with  a  new  pretext  for  increasing  the 
rent  for  his  master,  or  securing  a  present  for  him- 
self. And  there  were  agents  so  kindly  disposed 
towards  the  miserable  tenants,  that  they  preferred 
one  pound  as  a  present  to  themselves  to  two 
pounds  added  to  the  landlord's  rent-roll. 

Under  these  circumstances  tenants  of  the  in- 
dolent type  did  not  drain  their  land  or  improve 
the  appearance  of  their  houses,  and  if  they  had 


THE  BRONTES  AND    THE  POTATO  BLIGHT    177 

thriving  cattle  they  kept  them  concealed  in  remote 
fields  when  the  agent  was  about ;  and  when  they 
were  obliged  to  meet  either  agent  or  landlord,  they 
decked  themselves  out  like  Jebusites  in  ragged  and 
squalid  garments.  It  thus  happened  that  landlords 
and  land  agents  never  saw  the  tenantry  except 
in  rags,  and  thus  the  tenants  contrived  to  order 
themselves  lowly  and  reverently  to  their  betters. 

The  land  of  the  thriftless  brought. forth  potatoes 
in  plenty.  A  little  lime  and  dyke  scourings  mixed 
together  sufficed  for  manure.  The  potato  seed 
was  planted  on  the  lea-sod,  and  covered  up  in 
ridges  four  or  five  feet  wide.  The  elaborate  pre- 
paration for  planting  potatoes  in  drills  was  then 
unheard  of.  Cabbage  plants  were  dibbled  into  the 
edges  of  the  ridges,  and  the  potatoes  and  cabbages 
grew  together.  Abundant  supplies  of  west-reds 
and  yellow-legs  and  copper-duns,  with  large  savoy 
and  drumhead  cabbages,  only  needed  to  be  dug 
and  gathered  to  maintain  existence. 

Oats,  following  the  potato  crop,  provided  rough, 
wholesome  bread,  and  little  rats  of  Kerry  cows 
supplied  milk.  Great,  stalwart  men  and  women 
lived  on  potatoes  three  times  a  day,  with  bread 
and  buttermilk  and  an  occasional  egg.  Sometimes 
in  the  autumn  a  lean  and  venerable  cow  would  be 
fed  for  a  few  weeks  on  the  after-grass  (flesh  put 
on  in  a  hurry  being  considered  more  tender),  and 
then  killed,  salted,  and  hung  up  to  the  black  balk 

12 


1 78  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

in  the  kitchen  for  family  use.  This  piece  de  resist- 
ance was  almost  the  only  meat  ever  known  in  the 
homes  of  such  people. 

Two  pigs  fattened  yearly  on  potatoes,  and  a 
few  lambs  taken  from  the  early  clover,  met  the 
demands  of  the  landlord.  The  wool  of  the  sheep, 
spun  and  knitted  and  woven  at  home,  supplied  scant 
but  sufficient  wardrobes.  For  fuel  they  had  whins, 
or  furze,  cut  from  the  fences  and  turf  from  the 
bogs.  The  fire  was  preserved  by  raking  a  half- 
burnt  turf  every  night  in  the  ashes  ;  but  a  coal 
to  light  the  fire  was  occasionally  borrowed  in  the 
morning  from  more  provident  neighbours,  and 
carried  with  a  pair  of  tongs  from  house  to  house. 
Matches  were  unknown  in  those  days. 

The  men  broke  stones  by  the  road-sides  on 
warm  days  for  pocket-money  or  tobacco,  and  the 
women  obtained  their  little  extras  by  the  produce 
of  their  surplus  eggs,  which  they  carried  to  market 
in  little  osier  hand-baskets. 

Existence  in  such  homes  flowed  smoothly,  one 
year  being  exactly  like  another.  The  people  had 
no  prospects,  no  hopes,  no  ambitions.  They  lived 
from  hand  to  mouth,  and,  while  all  went  well, 
the  produce  of  each  day  was  sufficient  for  their 
simple  wants.  In  their  diurnal  rounds  they 
gathered  their  creels  of  potatoes,  and  drove  their 
Kerry  cows  to  the  fields,  golden  with  tufted  rag- 
weeds and  purple  with  prickly  thistles. 


THE  BRONTES  AND   THE  POTATO  BLIGHT    179 

Such  people  seldom  had  their  rents  raised  or 
their  improvements  confiscated,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  they  never  made  improvements,  and 
never  sought,  through  sustained  effort,  to  better 
their  condition.  They  had  no  margin  beyond  the 
bare  necessaries  of  life,  no  resources  to  fall  back 
upon  in  case  of  calamity.  With  barely  enough  to 
supply  their  daily  wants  and  no  more,  they  lived 
on  the  verge  of  starvation,  and  when  the  famine 
came  they  starved. 

Such  people  were  not  ashamed  to  accept  out- 
door relief,  or  even  to  enter  the  most  degrading 
of  prisons,  Irish  workhouses  ;  but  to  many  of  the 
thriftless  poor  the  potato  blight  was  a  sentence  of 
death.  The  feeble  staff  on  which  they  leant  was 
stricken  from  their  hands,  and  they  sank  without 
a  struggle,  to  rise  no  more. 

The  Brontes  were  people  of  a  different  fibre. 
They  would  not  succumb  without  a  struggle. 
They  had  advanced  from  the  Emdale  cabin  to  the 
Lisnacreevy  cottage,  and  thence  to  the  house  and 
farm  in  Ballynaskeagh.  The  primitive  corn-kiln, 
with  its  insignificant  and  precarious  profits,  had 
been  abandoned  for  the  lucrative  occupation  of 
macadamising  roads  and  cultivating  the  land. 

The  Brontes  worked  hard,  and  were  frugal 
as  well  as  industrious.  They  had  hoarded  the 
savings  of  many  years,  and  invested  all  in  a 
new  farm,  and  they  felt  that  they  had  a  right  to 


i8o  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

look  forward  to  a  condition  of  prosperity  and  in- 
dependence. 

The  class  to  which  the  Brontes  belonged  differed 
widely  from  the  inert  and  feckless  farmers  that 
encumbered  many  a  bankrupt  estate.  They  did 
not  live  from  hand  to  mouth,  spending  each  day's 
efforts  on  each  day's  wants,  and  passing  the  sum- 
mer in  an  easy  doze.  No  people  on  earth  slaved  so 
hard  as  Irish  tenant  farmers.  They  worked  late 
and  early.  Their  wives  and  daughters  and  little 
children  rose  with  the  sun  and  laboured  the  live- 
long day.  Every  good  thing  raised  on  the  farm 
went  to  market  to  meet  the  landlord's  exactions 
and  to  add  to  the  little  store.  Butter,  bacon,  fowl, 
eggs,  and  such-like,  raised  by  the  laborious  house- 
wife, were  sacred  to  the  landlord  and  to  the  hoards 
accumulated  against  the  rainy  day. 

Such  tenant  farmers  improved  their  lands  and 
their  houses,  and  consequently  the  landlords  raised 
their  rents  in  proportion  to  their  improvements. 

For  such  slaves  there  was  little  recreation  except 
the  half-holiday  on  Christmas  Day,  and  the  party 
displays  on  the  I2th  of  July  or  the  i/th  of  March. 
No  toil,  however,  could  crush  out  of  them  the 
desire  to  better  their  lot ;  but  their  moiling  and 
slaving  seldom  resulted  in  anything  more  brilliant 
than  a  five-pound  note  to  pay  a  son's  passage 
to  America,  or  a  twenty-pound  portion  for  a 
daughter  when  she  passed  from  the  dreary  drudgery 


THE  BRONTES  AND   THE  POTATO  BLIGHT    181 

of  her  father's  home   to  the  abiding  bondage   of 
her  husband's  yoke. 

The  industry  of  the  Brontes  was  not  in  vain. 
They  lived  under  the  best  landlord  that  Ireland 
has  ever  produced.  "The  Sharman  Estate,"  now 
known  as  the  "  Sharman  Crawford  Property,"  has 
always  been  blessed  with  a  succession  of  Christian 
landlords,  who  have  recognised  that  landed  property 
has  duties  as  well  as  privileges,  and  who  have  made 
it  their  life-work  to  propagate  their  doctrines  by 
peaceful  persuasion.  Had  Sharman  Crawford  been 
listened  to  in  the  House  of  Commons  when  he 
pleaded  for  the  tenant  farmers,  there  would  have 
been  no  agrarian  crime  in  Ireland  ;  but  his  was  "a 
voice  crying  in  the  wilderness  "  ;  he  preached  his 
gospel  like  "  a  linnet  piping  in  the  wind." 

On  the  Sharman  estate  the  Brontes  had  a  fair 
field  for  their  industries.  They  worked  in  absolute 
harmony  as  far  as  appeared  to  the  outside  world. 
They  were  a  loving  family,  in  their  way,  but  with- 
out the  shows  of  love.  Their  home  was  all  the 
world  to  them,  and  they  clung  to  it  in  early  life, 
with  something  of  the  affectionate  attachment  that 
Emily  Bronte  and  her  sisters  afterwards  manifested 
towards  the  sombre  parsonage  at  Haworth.  They 
held  aloof  in  a  stoical  manner  from  all  neighbours, 
and  neither  sought  nor  accepted  sympathy.  They 
were  healthful,  hopeful,  and  happy  in  their  farm, 
with  the  growing  signs  of  plenty  around  them. 


182  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

At  this  juncture  the  potato  blight  which  cracked 
the  framework  of  Ireland's  economic  arrangements 
blasted  the  Bronte  paradise.  The  affection  of  the 
farmer  towards  his  growing  crops  is  in  proportion 
to  the  solicitude  with  which  he  has  watched  over 
them  ;  but  the  Brontes  only  learned  fully  what  a 
treasure  the  potato  crop  had  been  to  them  when 
it  was  taken  away.  Never  had  their  farm  seemed 
so  beautiful  or  the  potatoes  appeared  so  bountiful, 
but  in  a  night  the  fields  were  smitten  black,  and 
the  stench  of  rotting  leaves  filled  the  air.  The 
tubers  became  rotten  and  repulsive  instead  of  being 
white  and  floury. 

Many  theories  were  advanced  to  account  for  the 
calamity  that  had  befallen  the  most  important  and 
indispensable  product  of  the  country.  Pamphlets 
were  published  and  sermons  preached  to  show  that 
national  disaster  had  followed  on  the  heels  of 
national  wrong-doing.  Seasons  for  humiliation  and 
fasting  and  prayer  were  set  apart  to  supplicate 
Almighty  God  to  take  away  the  awful  judgment. 

The  Bronte  mind  never  ran  smoothly  with  the 
common  current.  To  them  the  evil  appeared  to 
be  simply  the  work  of  the  devil.  The  Brontes  held 
the  simple  old  Zoroastrian  creed  that  everything 
beneficent  was  the  work  of  God,  and  everything 
maleficent  the  work  of  the  evil  one. 

Such  opinions  were  not  confined  to  the  Brontes. 
As  children  we  were  given  to  understand  that 


THE  BRONTES  AND   THE  POTATO  BLIGHT    183 

frosted  blackberries  were  clubbed  by  the  devil, 
who  had  blown  his  breath  upon  them  as  he  passed 
by,  and  of  course  we  all  knew  that  the  old  enemy 
with  the  club  foot  lurked  in  the -blackberry  bushes. 

Servants  and  common  labourers;  held  to  the  be- 
lief, no  doubt  prompted  and  fortified  by  the  action 
of  the  Brontes,  that  the'  devil  went  bodily  from 
potato  field  to  potato  field  in  his  work  of  destruc- 
tion ;  and  many  reports  got  into  circulation  that  he 
had  been  actually  seen  among  the  potatoes  in  the 
form  of  a  black  dog  or  black  bull,  but  that  he  always 
vanished  in  a  flash  of  lurid  light  when  challenged. 

I  have  very  vivid  recollections  of  the  feelings  of 
awe  with  which  at  night,  when  the  wind  moaned 
among  the  trees,  I  listened  to  these  inflated  stories, 
and  also  of  the  venturesome  and  prying  scepticism 
with  which  I  probed  and  pricked  the  bladders  of 
superstition  by  day.  No  shadow  of  scepticism 
regarding  the  immediate  cause  of  the  blight  ever 
crossed  the  minds  of  the  Brontes,  and  so  far  as 
Hugh,  the  representative  of  the  family,  was  con- 
cerned, he  repaid  the  common  foe  by  insult  and 
scorn. 

Hugh  Bronte  no  more  doubted  that  the  devil 
in  bodily  form  had  destroyed  the  potato  crop  than 
he  doubted  his  own  existence.  He  saw  the  prop 
stricken  from  under  the  family  by  a  malignant 
enemy,  and  he  would  not  tamely  submit  to  the 
personal  injury.  It  was  both  cruel  and  unjust  that 


1 84  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

the  devil,  who  never  did  any  work,  should  pollute 
the  fruits  of  their  toil.  He  would  shame  the  fiend 
out  of  his  foul  work,  and  for  this  purpose  he  would 
go  deliberately  to  the  field  and  gather  a  basketful 
of  rotten  potatoes.  These  he  would  carry  solemnly 
to  the  brink  of  the  Glen,  and  standing  on  the  edge 
of  a  precipice  call  on  the  fiend  to  behold  his  foul 
and  filthy  work,  and  then  with  great  violence  dash 
them  down  as  a  feast  for  the  fetid  destroyer.  This 
ceremony  of  feasting  the  fiend  on  the  proceeds  of 
his  own  foul  work  was  often  repeated  with  fierce 
and  desperate  energy,  and  the  "  Devil's  Dining- 
room  "  is  still  pointed  out  by  the  neighbours. 

I  knew  a  man  who  witnessed  one  of  these  scenes. 
He  spoke  of  Hugh  Bronte's  address  to  the  devil 
as  being  sublime  in  its  ferocity.  With  bare,  out- 
stretched arms,  the  veins  in  his  neck  and  forehead 
standing  out  like  hempen  cords,  and  his  voice 
choking  with  concentrated  passion,  he  would  apos- 
trophise Beelzebub  as  the  bloated  fly,  and  call  on 
him  to  partake  of  the  filthy  repast  he  had  provided. 
The  address  ended  with  wild,  scornful  laughter  as 
Bronte  hurled  the  rotten  potatoes  down  the  bank. 

The  dramatic  power  of  the  ceremony  was  so 
real,  the  spell  of  Bronte's  earnestness  was  so  con- 
tagious, that  my  informant,  who  was  not  a  super- 
stitious man,  declared  that  for  a  few  seconds  after 
Bronte's  challenge  was  given,  he  watched  in  terror 
expecting  the  fiend  to  appear. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  MINOR  AMUSEMENTS  OF  THE  BRONTES 

IRELAND  has  always  lacked  the  civilising  and 
humanising  influences  of  a  common  holiday. 
There  is  no  day  throughout  the  rolling  year  on 
which  the  people  can  meet  as  brethren,  and  no 
recurring  seasons  fraught  with  memories  of  good- 
will to  all. 

The  two  great  holidays  in  Ireland  fall  on  the 
1 2th  of  July  and  the  I7th  of  March.  The  I2th 
of  July  was  celebrated  by  the  Orangemen,  not  so 
much  to  do  honour  "  to  the  glorious,  pious,  and 
immortal  memory  of  William  III.,"  who  crossed 
the  Boyne  on  that  day,  as  to  hurl  defiance  at  their 
Catholic  neighbours.  St.  Patrick's  Day,  the  i/th 
of  March,  though  kept  in  honour  of  a  national  saint 
whom  Protestants  and  Catholics  alike  claim,  had 
come  to  be  regarded  as  a  counter-blast  to  the 
Orange  defiance,  and  in  the  minds  of  Orangemen 
generally  was  associated  with  disloyalty  in  politics 
and  idolatry  in  religion. 

The  approach  of  these  two  great  holidays  was 
185 


186  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

signalised  by  the  scouring  of  rusty  old  guns  and 
pikes,  and  the  casting  of  bullets  and  preparation 
of  cartridges.  The  morning  opened  with  the  beat- 
ing of  drums  and  firing  of  guns.  As  the  day  wore 
on  large  bodies  of  men,  decked  out  fantastically 
with  orange  sashes  and  orange  lilies,  or  with  green 
sashes  and  shamrocks,  marched  in  procession  to 
meet  other  processions  at  a  given  point,  where 
fiery  orations  awaited  them. 

On  such  days  there  was  a  large  consumption  of 
spirituous  liquors,  or  rather  of  fiery  water.  It  was 
made  up  of  vitriol,  and  blue-stone,  and  copperas, 
and  other  corrosive  ingredients,  and  was  flavoured 
with  potheen.  The  beverage  was  prepared  in  great 
plenty  and  sold  cheap. 

Ordinary  Irishmen  are  not,  as  a  rule,  either 
drinkers  or  drunkards.  Drink  has  never  yet  come 
to  be  looked  upon  in  Ireland  as  necessary  food. 
Occasionally  at  fairs  and  markets  Irishmen  drink 
to  excess,  generally  for  good  fellowship  ;  but  when 
the  drunken  bout  is  over  they  become  strict  total 
abstainers  till  some  circumstance  calls  them  again 
to  social  hilarity. 

To  drink  on  the  I2th  of  July  and  on  St. 
Patrick's  Day  was  part  of  the  celebration.  I  can 
speak  from  personal  observation  of  the  I2th  of 
July.  To  drink  was  to  be  loyal,  and  to  drink 
deeply  was  to  be  a  good  Orangeman.  The  man 
who  did  not  drink  on  the  I2th  of  July  exposed 


THE  MINOR  AMUSEMENTS   OF  THE  BRONTES     187 

himself  to  the  suspicion  of  being  little  better  than 
a  PapisJi. 

There  was  no  fastidiousness  as  to  the  stuff  that 
was  drunk.  The  more  pungent  and  fiery  the 
liquor,  it  was  considered  the  more  excellent  and 
palatable  ;  and  I  often  witnessed  the  contortions 
of  countenance  with  which  not  only  boys  and  girls, 
but  even  strong  men,  swallowed  the  potations  that 
burnt  down  to  the  stomach  and  flushed  up  to  the 
brain. 

The  fiery  orations  were  furnished  by  clergymen 
who  were  supposed  to  be  ministers  of  religion,  and 
the  maddening  drinks  by  the  keepers  of  roadside 
shebeens.  An  orange  flag  always  floated  on  the 
steeple  of  Rathfriland  Episcopalian  Church  during 
the  whole  month  of  July,  and  the  sJiebeen  windows 
were  ablaze  with  orange  lilies  throughout  the  same 
month. 

The  processions  on  their  homeward  march  had 
many  staggerers  and  stragglers.  Their  minds  filled 
with  acrid  eloquence,  and  their  brains  addled  with 
corrosive  whiskey,  the  processionists  became  ex- 
citable and  quarrelsome,  and  when  the  common 
enemy  did  not  appear  they  often  fought  among 
themselves.  But  sometimes  the  enemy  did  appear, 
and  then  a  pitched  battle  would  ensue.  Guns  and 
pistols  blazed  forth  furiously  all  along  the  line  of 
march,  but  firearms  in  the  hands  of  tipsy  swaggerers 
were  more  dangerous  to  friends  than  to  foes. 


188  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

With  one  solitary  exception,  and  he  was  a  McClory, 
I  never  knew  any  one  killed  or  wounded  in  those 
noisy  encounters  except  by  his  own  weapon.  The 
chief  result  of  the  party  processions  was  an  access 
of  party  hatred. 

Orange  and  Catholic  balls,  held  in  country  barns, 
were  conducted  on  the  same  party  lines,  and,  like 
the  processions,  created  additional  bad  blood  among 
neighbours.  The  elated  revellers  were  sometimes 
attacked  as  they  reeled  homeward.  In  fact,  the 
people  saw  each  other  only  through  the  haze  of 
party  passion,  and  seldom  came  into  sufficiently 
peaceful  relations  to  discover  that  they  were 
brothers.  So  much  easier  is  it  to  fight  for  religion, 
than  to  live  as  Christians. 

Even  Christmas  Day  did  not  provide  a  common 
holiday  on  which  the  people  might  mingle  peace- 
fully together.  To  most  of  the  Presbyterians  the 
Christmas  holiday  appeared  as  a  remnant  of  super- 
stition. New  Year's  Day  was  kept  as  a  holiday 
instead  of  Christmas  Day  by  the  Puritan  party, 
but  it  was  a  sign  of  division  rather  than  a  bond 
of  union. 

Easter  Sunday  was  a  Catholic  festival  chiefly 
distinguished  by  the  enormous  quantities  of  eggs 
that  were  eaten  on  that  day.  But  though  the 
Protestants  objected  to  the  holiday,  as  being  bor- 
rowed from  the  Church  of  Rome,  they  joined 
heartily  in  the  general  consumption  of  eggs.  How- 


THE  MINOR  AMUSEMENTS   OF  THE  BRONTES     189 

ever  poor   the   house,  the    table  was  heaped  with 
boiled  or  fried  eggs  on  Easter  Sunday  morning. 

The  Brontes,  owing  to  their  mixed  origin,  held 
aloof  generally  from  the  party  demonstrations  and 
squabbles  that  were  so  common  around  them.  But 
on  Christmas  Day  they  organised  a  great  yearly 
shooting  match  in  the  Glen.  The  prizes  were 
game-cocks.  Each  of  the  competitors  put  down 
a  penny.  A  small  piece  of  paper  was  pasted  on 
a  barrel  lid,  which  was  propped  up  against  a  turf- 
stack,  and  whoever  put  most  grains  of  shot  into 
the  paper  was  the  winner. 

A  dozen  game-cocks  would  be  shot  for  and  won, 
and  then  in  the  afternoon  the  same  birds  would 
be  fought  in  the  Cock-pit.  I  do  not  think  there 
was  much  betting  on  the  results  of  the  contests. 
"  They  were  fought  for  the  fun  of  the  thing,"  as  a 
Bronte  once  said  to  me. 

The  Cock-pit,  which  was  close  to  the  "  Devil's 
Dining-room,"  was  well  chosen  to  permit  of  a 
large  number  of  people  seeing  what  was  going  on. 
Cock-fighting  was  not  merely  a  pastime  resorted  to 
on  Christmas  afternoon  ;  it  became  a  passion  with 
the  Brontes  in  their  decadence,  and  crowds  often 
assembled  round  the  Bronte  Cock-pit  on  Sunday 
afternoons  to  watch  the  spirited  little  creatures 
destroying  each  other.  In  those  days  no  par- 
ticular disgrace  seems  to  have  attached  to  the  cruel 
amusement  which  was  very  common. 


190  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Shooting  matches  were  not  limited  by  the 
Brontes  to  the  great  match  on  Christmas  Day. 
They  were  the  most  common  amusements  of  the 
Brontes.  The  brothers  used  to  practise  firing 
across  the  Glen  at  a  mark  fixed  against  a  turf- 
stack  throughout  whole  summer  days,  and  weekly 
matches  were  got  up  with  neighbours  during  the 
summer  months. 

The  Rev.  Patrick  Bronte  was  said  to  be  a  good 
shot,  and  when  on  visits  to  Ireland  he  used  to 
practise  pistol -firing  for  hours  together,  and  when 
matches  were  on  he  always  joined  in  them. 

When  he  won  prizes  he  always  handed  them 
over  to  be  shot  for  again,  and  he  also  gave  prizes 
to  be  competed  for.  He  was  passionately  fond  of 
shooting  birds,  and  of  practising  with  a  pistol  at 
a  mark  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  pistol-firing 
at  Haworth  of  which  Mrs.  Gaskell  and  others  have 
made  so  much  was  a  perfectly  innocent  trial  of 
skill. 

The  Brontes  had  no  equals  in  putting  the 
"  shoulder  stone  "  and  "  drawing  stone,"  and  they 
were  often  engaged  on  summer  evenings  in  hurling 
a  metal  ball  along  the  road, — a  practice  that 
became  so  common  and  dangerous  that  the  police 
got  instructions  to  stop  it. 

In  the  times  of  the  Brontes  wakes  might  be 
considered  as  among  country  recreations.  People 
from  far  and  near  thronged  to  the  houses  of  mourn- 


THE  MINOR  AMUSEMENTS   OF  THE  BRONTES     191 

ing,  and  sat  even  in  the  room  where  the  corpse  was. 
Clay  pipes  with  long  handles  were  handed  round, 
and  abundance  of  tobacco  ;  but  the  chief  attraction 
was  the  unlimited  supply  of  whiskey  that  was 
served  out.  Any  shortcomings  in  hospitality  at 
wakes  were  remembered  for  a  generation. 

Fighting  was  one  of  the  minor  amusements  of 
the  Brontes.  The  fame  of  Welsh's  great  fight  with 
Sam  Clarke  covered  the  family  with  glory,  and 
other  youths  who  were  proud  of  their  agility  and 
strength  were  anxious  to  try  conclusions  with  the 
stalwart  brothers.  It  thus  came  to  pass  that  they 
were  often  drawn  into  scrapes  in  fairs  and  markets, 
but  they  generally  came  off  victorious. 

An  amusing  incident  occurred  one  day  in  Rath- 
friland  fair.  A  man  had  offended  Hugh  Bronte, 
and  Hugh  knocked  him  down.  Soon  the  man's 
son  appeared  on  the  scene,  and  hearing  what  had 
befallen  his  father  became  greatly  enraged.  He 
stripped  off  his  outer  garment  as  if  for  a  fight, 
and  marched  up  and  down  the  fair,  waving  his 
arms  in  the  most  truculent  manner,  and  shouting, 
"  VVher's  the  man  that  struck  me  faether  ?  " 

When  he  had  paraded  the  streets  in  triumph  for 
a  while,  Hugh  Bronte  stepped  up  to  him  and  said, 
"  I'm  the  man  that  struck  yer  faether  :  what  d'ye 
want  wi'  me?" 

The  furious  person  eyed  Bronte  deliberately  for 
a  little,  his  ardour  cooling  during  the  pause,  and 


192  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

then  he  very  meekly  replied,  "  Heth,  man,  ye  giv 
him  a  sevendable  slap."  And  so  the  matter 
ended. 

There  was  one  pretty  custom  that  the  Brontes 
delighted  in  once  a  year — namely,  the  gathering  of 
the  may-flowers  on  May  eve.  On  the  last  after- 
noon in  April  the  brothers  and  sisters  used  to 
wander  along  the  banks  of  the  Glen,  and  gather 
the  may-flowers  that  grew  by  the  edge  of  the 
stream.  On  those  occasions  the  sisters  were  decked 
out  in  the  brightest  colours  at  their  disposal.  The 
golden  flowers  were  collected  in  posies  and  laid 
upon  the  greensward  in  the  Glen,  and  then  the 
brothers  and  sisters  like  fauns  and  satyrs  danced 
around  them.  Towards  the  close  of  the  dance 
they  pelted  each  other  with  the  flowers,  and  when 
night  fell  they  gathered  up  all  the  bunches,  and, 
bearing  them  home,  scattered  them  on  the  roof 
of  the  house  and  around  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  GREAT  BRONTE  BATTLE 

THE  fight  between  Welsh  Bronte  and  Sam 
Clarke  of  Ballynaskeagh  was  an  era-making 
event  The  contest  took  place  long  before  my 
time  ;  but  I  had  a  precise  and  full  account  of  the 
battle  from  two  eye-witnesses,  John  and  James 
Todd.  No  encounter  of  the  kind  in  County  Down 
ever  made  such  a  noise  or  left  such  a  lasting  im- 
pression. Like  the  flight  of  Muhammed  or  the 
founding  of  Rome,  it  became  a  fixed  point  around 
which  other  events  ranged  themselves.  It  was  a 
local  Hejira  in  the  current  calendar. 

Women  would  speak  of  their  children  as  born 
or  their  daughters  married  so  many  years  before 
or  after  the  fight,  and  old  men  in  referring  to  their 
ages  would  tell  how  they  had  been  present  when 
Welsh  Bronte  licked  Sam  Clarke,  and  that  they 
must  have  been  of  such  an  age  at  the  time.  It 
was  one  of  those  famous  encounters  which  only 
required  the  pen  of  Pentaur  to  give  it  immortality 
in  epic  form. 

The  history  of  the  affair;  which  I  here  submit, 
i93  13 


194  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

embodies  the  conclusions  at  which  I  have  arrived 
after  comparing  twenty  or  thirty  versions  ;  but  I 
am  specially  indebted  to  the  late  Mr.  John  Todd 
of  Croan,  who  was  present  at  the  battle  with  his 
brother  James,  and  who  narrated  the  incidents  of 
the  contest  with  many  picturesque  details.  I  should 
add,  however,  that  the  Todds  were  friends  of  the 
Brontes,  and  told  the  story  with  the  warmth  of 
partisans. 

Welsh  Bronte  had  a  sweetheart  called  Peggy 
Campbell,  and  she  had  a  little,  delicate,  deformed 
brother  who  used  to  go  to  Ballynafern  school  on 
crutches.  Some  of  the  big  healthy  boys  thought- 
lessly amused  themselves  by  tormenting  the  little 
cripple.  He  often  arrived  home  with  his  clothes 
torn  and  daubed  with  mud,  and  sometimes  showing 
in  his  person  the  signs  of  ill-treatment.  After  the 
manner  of  schoolboys  he  would  never  "  tell  on  " 
his  tormentors.  Welsh's  sweetheart,  however,  had 
discovered  the  cowardly  and  cruel  treatment  to 
which  her  little  brother  had  been  subjected,  and 
appealed  to  Welsh  to  protect  him. 

Welsh  had,  no  doubt,  often  heard  the  story  of 
his  father's  wrongs  when  a  child,  and  at  a  hint 
from  Peggy  constituted  himself  the  champion  of 
the  injured  boy.  He  went  to  Sam  Clarke,  who 
was  a  near  relative  of  the  chief  offenders,  and 
begged  him  to  interfere. 

Clarke,   who   was   said    to   be   something   of    a 


THE   GREAT  BRONTE  BATTLE  197 

bully,  advised  Bronte  to  mind  his  own  business, 
and  Bronte  replied  that  that  was  the  exact  thing 
he  was  doing ;  and  then  he  added,  as  a  threat > 
that  unless  Clarke  restrained  his  brutal  relatives  he 
would  chastise  them  himself.  Hot  words  ensued, 
and  Bronte  and  Clarke  parted  with  expressions  of 
mutual  defiance. 

Welsh  Bronte's  blood  was  up.  His  sense  of 
justice  was  roused  on  behalf  of  an  ill-used  child* 
and  his  feelings  of  chivalry  impelled  him  to  become 
the  champion  of  his  sweetheart's  brother. 

Meanwhile  the  boys  were  meditating  vengeance 
on  their  victim,  who,  in  addition  to  the  crime  of 
meek  endurance,  had,  they  believed,  proved  a  sneak 
and  a  dashbeg  by  telling  of  their  misdeeds. 

Welsh  Bronte  resolved  to  watch  the  children  on 
their  way  home  from  school  on  the  following  day. 
He  took  up  his  position  in  a  clump  of  trees  some- 
where near  the  Glen.  He  waited  long,  but  the 
school-children  did  not  appear,  and,  thinking  that 
perhaps  they  had  returned  home  by  another  path, 
he  left  his  ambush  to  resume  his  work.  Suddenly 
he  heard  hilarious  cheering  and  piteous  cries,  and 
hurrying  toward  the  spot  whence  the  noise  came, 
he  found  the  school  engaged  in  the  ceremony  of 
ducking  the  clashbeg,  or  talebearer. 

They  had  taken  the  poor  little  cripple's  crutches 
from  him,  and  had  placed  him  in  the  middle  of  a 
pond  of  water  up  to  his  neck,  and  then,  having 


198  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

taken  hands,  they  danced  in  a  circle  round  the 
pond,  chanting,  "  Clashbeg  !  clashbeg  !  clashbeg  ! " 

Welsh  Bronte  took  in  the  situation  at  a  glance, 
and  captured  the  two  biggest  Clarkes  before  they 
knew  he  was  near.  He  then  compelled  them  to 
wade  into  the  pond  and  support  their  victim  gently 
to  the  edge.  When  they  had  placed  him  on  the 
dry  ground  he  was  so  exhausted  that  he  could 
neither  stand  nor  support  himself  on  his  crutches, 
and  Bronte  obliged  the  Clarkes  to  carry  him  home 
on  their  backs,  time  about,  the  water  dripping  from 
their  clothes.  They  did  as  Bronte  directed  them, 
but  only  after  considerable  chastisement. 

The  other  children  had  fled  home  in  alarm,  and 
had  given  a  highly  coloured  description  of  the 
inhuman  manner  in  which  Bronte  was  treating 
the  Clarkes.  Some  of  them  reported  that  he  had 
actually  drowned  them  in  the  pond.  On  that 
night  a  challenge  from  Sam  Clarke  reached  Welsh 
Bronte,  and  was  instantly  accepted. 

The  time  for  angry  words  had  gone,  and  all 
preliminary  formalities  were  carried  out  according 
to  rule  and  with  perfect  courtesy.  Seconds  were 
appointed,  and  the  day  was  fixed,  and  a  pro- 
fessional pugilist,  who  resided  at  Newry,  was 
engaged  to  act  as  referee.  Both  men  went  into 
close  training,  and  the  event  was  awaited  with  the 
most  intense  excitement  for  ten  miles  round. 

The  appointed  time  at  last  arrived,  and  it  proved 


THE   GREAT  BRONTE  BATTLE  199 

to  be  a  charming  summer  day.  A  crowd  number- 
ing probably  ten  thousand,  some  estimated  the 
number  at  from  thirty  to  fifty  thousand,  assembled. 
They  came  together  from  Newry,  Banbridge, 
Rathfriland,  Dromore,  Hilltown,  Warrenpoint, 
Loughbrickland,  and  other  country  towns  and 
districts.  Such  an  assemblage  of  the  scoundrelism 
of  that  region  had  never  been  drawn  together 
before.  But  they  were  not  all  scoundrels,  for 
public  opinion  had  not  at  that  time  affixed  the 
stamp  of  infamy  indelibly  to  the  brutal  exhibi- 
tions of  the  ring ;  and  it  was  said  that  a  number 
of  sporting  clergymen  and  country  gentlemen  were 
present,  undisguised  and  unashamed. 

Many  circumstances  rendered  the  field  famous. 
The  mothers  of  the  combatants  had  fed  their  sons 
for  the  fray  like  game-cocks.  Oat-bread  and  new 
milk  were  the  staple  food,  which  were  supposed  to 
give  muscle,  strength,  and  endurance. 

Shortly  before  the  fight  Clarke's  mother,  when 
giving  him  his  last  meal  before  the  encounter, 
addressed  him  in  the  following  words :  "  Sam, 
my  son,  may  you  never  get  bit  nor  sup  from  me 
more,  if  you  do  not  lick  the  mongrel." 

This  Spartan  speech  spread  like  wildfire  through 
the  field,  and  such  was  the  code  of  honour  on  that 
occasion  that  the  exhortation  was  much  blamed, 
and  led  to  a  strong  current  of  popularity  in  favour 
of  Bronte.  The  word  "  mongrel,"  referring  to  the 


200  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

fact  that  her  son's  antagonist  had  a  Catholic  mother, 
was  considered  unfitting  to  be  used  in  connection 
with  the  noble  encounter  that  was  about  to  take 
place.  The  words  had  wings,  and  flew  over  the 
whole  field,  and  the  spectators  indignantly  dis- 
approved of  them. 

The  ring  was  roped  off  in  the  hollow  of  a  green 
field,  and  the  multitude  stood  on  the  rising  ground 
around,  and  all  could  see  the  entire  ring.  Three 
or  four  hundred  men  were  enrolled  as  "  special 
order  preservers,"  and  stood  in  a  circle  round  the 
ring  two  or  three  deep.  The  seconds  and  referee 
and  umpire  were  in  their  places  at  the  opposite 
sides  of  the  ring. 

The  hour  fixed  to  begin  was  twelve  o'clock,  and 
prompt  to  the  minute  the  two  combatants  strode 
down  leisurely  through  the  crowd,  each  with  his 
sweetheart  leaning  on  his  arm.  Their  mothers 
already  occupied  seats  of  honour  outside  the  ring. 

Clarke  was  an  older  and  maturer  man  than 
Bronte,  and  much  bigger.  Beside  him  Bronte,  in 
his  tight-fitting  home-spun,  looked  slender  and 
youthful  and  over-matched. 

In  consequence  of  the  ungenerous  and  unguarded 
words  spoken  by  Clarke's  mother,  sympathy,  as 
we  have  seen,  was  already  on  Bronte's  side,  and 
this  was  greatly  increased  by  the  natural  feeling 
that  prompted  the  generous  to  take  the  weaker 
side. 


THE  GREAT  BRONTE  BATTLE  201 

As  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  ascertain,  the 
original  cause  of  the  quarrel  was  wholly  lost  sight 
of  before  the  fight  began.  No  one  seemed  to  give 
a  thought  to  the  circumstance  that  Bronte  had  got 
into  the  affair  by  espousing  the  cause  of  a  helpless 
boy.  And,  in  this  respect,  did  not  the  Bronte 
battle  resemble  most  of  our  modern  wars  in  which 
the  rights  and  wrongs  of  the  cause,  and  even  the 
cause  itself,  are  lost  sight  of  in  the  strife  ?  After 
listening  to  an  account  of  the  fight  from  some  old 
man  who  had  witnessed  it,  I  have  often  asked  what 
it  was  about ;  and  I  have  generally  got  for  answer, 
"  Oh,  it  was  just  a  fight,"  my  question  being 
evidently  deemed  irrelevant  and  somewhat  silly. 
What  was  the  cause  of  the  Crimean  war  ?  It  was 
just  a  war. 

The  champions  stepped  into  the  ring,  and  their 
sweethearts  with  them.  As  each  stripped  he 
handed  his  clothes  to  his  future  wife,  and  these 
two  women  stood,  each  with  her  lover's  garments 
on  her  arm,  till  the  matter  was  decided. 

Time  was  not  accurately  kept,  but  the  battle 
was  said  to  have  lasted  three  or  four  hours.  At 
first  Clarke  had  the  advantage  in  strength  and 
weight  ;  but  Bronte,  who  had  long  arms,  was  lithe 
and  active  and  wiry,  and  did  not  seem  to  weary  as 
the  day  wore  on.  On  the  contrary,  Clarke  began 
to  show  signs  of  fatigue ;  but  the  spectators  thought 
he  was  simply  husbanding  his  strength.  Through- 


202  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

out  the  whole  contest  not  a  word  was  heard. 
Suddenly  Miss  Campbell's  voice  rang  out  clear  in 
the  silence,  "  Welsh,  my  boy,  go  in  and  avenge 
my  brother,  and  the  mongrel." 

The  minutes  must  have  seemed  hours  to  the 
girls,  as  they  watched  their  future  husbands 
struggling  for  victory  on  that  summer  day. 
Peggy  Campbell,  by  her  woman's  instinct,  dis- 
cerned that  the  hour  for  the  final  effort  and 
victory  had  come. 

Welsh  responded  like  a  lightning  flash.  A  few 
awful  moments  followed.  The  spectators  held 
their  breath,  and  some  fainted,  others  covered 
their  eyes  with  their  hands  or  averted  their  faces. 
Terrific  crushing  and  crashing  blows  resounded 
all  over  the  field,  and  when  the  blows  ceased  to 
resound  Sam  Clarke  was  lying  a  motionless  heap 
in  the  ring. 

The  crowd,  after  the  long  suspense  and  hushed 
silence,  lost  all  control  of  themselves,  and  wanted 
to  rush  in  and  chair  the  victor ;  but  the  special 
order  preservers  held  the  ring,  and  the  sea  of 
human  beings  surged  against  them  in  vain. 

Welsh  Bronte  declined  to  receive  congratulations 
until  he  had  deposited  his  antagonist  safely  at 
home  in  bed.  The  fight  was  followed  by  no  evil 
consequences,  and  Sam  Clarke  and  Welsh  Bronte 
became  fast  friends  from  that  day  forth. 

From  all  accounts  the  fight  seems  to  have  been 


THE  GREAT  BRONTE  BATTLE  203 

a  marvellous  display  of  skill  and  endurance,  very 
different  from  the  sordid  and  brutal  gambling 
contests  patronised  now  by  the  roughs  of  all 
classes.  Both  of  the  combatants  fought  with  the 
most  chivalrous  courtesy  and  utmost  bravery,  and 
the  crowd  awaited  the  result  with  imperturbable 
impartiality. 

No  word  above  a  whisper  had  been  heard 
during  the  long  afternoon,  till  Bronte's  sweetheart 
sang  out  her  decisive  commands,  which  in  County 
Down  rank  with  Wellington's  "  Up,  guards,  and  at 
them  ! " 

All  were  agreed  as  to  the  closing  scene.  During 
the  last  few  seconds  the  fight  became  so  fierce  and 
furious  that  the  blood  of  the  spectators  ran  cold. 
Nothing  like  it  for  wild  fury  and  titanic  ferocity 
had  ever  been  witnessed  by  the  crowd,  and  no 
such  battle  has  ever  since  or  before  been  fought 
in  County  Down. 

The  Rev.  W.  J.  McCracken  closes  a  vivid  account 
of  this  battle  with  the  following  incident : — 

"  I  can  bear  my  personal  testimony  to  the  gratify- 
ing fact  that  Welsh  Bronte  lived  to  regret  the 
fight.  The  only  time  I  ever  heard  him  refer  to 
it  was  one  day  in  my  father's  house.  An  old 
man  chanced  to  come  in  who  hadn't  seen  Welsh 
for  a  long  time.  He  approached  Bronte  with  a 
great  '  How-do-ye-do?'  adding,  '  Och,  Welsh,  God 
be  wi'  the  times  when  you  licked  Sam  Clarke.' 


204  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

The  old  flatterer  evidently  thought  that  Welsh 
would  be  hugely  pleased  ;  but  the  only  answer  he 
gave  him  was  in  these  words  : '  All  (pronounced  aal} 
folly,  all  folly,  all  folly  ;  but  folk  won't  see  their 
folly  in  time.' 

"  Bronte's  answer,  I  remember,  raised  him  a 
thousandfold  in  my  esteem,  while  it  snuffed  out 
the  old  chap  completely. 

"  Welsh  Bronte  was  the  perfection  of  manly 
beauty.  Although  an  utterly  uneducated  man,  he 
had  the  bearing  and  courtesy  of  a  gentleman.  In 
amiability  and  courtesy  he  was  far  in  advance  of 
any  of  his  brothers,  with  whom  I  was  acquainted. 

"  He  had  a  strong,  sensible  way  of  putting  a 
thing,  and  spoke  in  a  low,  kindly,  pretty  quick,  and 
full  voice."  * 

*  The  Rev.  J.  B.  Lusk  writes  me  that  Mr.  Frazer,  now 
ninety-two  years  of  age,  was  present  at  the  encounter,  eighty- 
two  years  ago.  The  meadow  in  which  the  affair  took  place 
belongs  to  the  farm  of  Mr.  John  Barr  of  Ballynafern. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

THE   BRONTES  AND   THE   GHOSTS 

THE  Glen  on  the  edge  of  which  the  Brontes 
lived  lay  secluded  among  hills,  remote  from 
the  more  frequented  thoroughfares  of  the  country. 
It  was  a  beautiful  and  romantic  spot  by  day,  but 
lonesome  and  desolate  at  night.  For  miles  round 
it  had  the  reputation  of  being  haunted,  and  few 
passed  that  way  after  dark.  Those  who  were 
obliged  to  do  so  heard  unnatural  splashes  in  the 
stream,  and  rustlings  among  the  bracken,  and 
strange  moanings  and  sobbings  among  the  trees 
that  swayed  and  tossed  their  branches,  as  if  agitated 
by  a  hurricane  when  there  was  not  a  breath  of  air 
stirring.  Strange  and  fitful  cries  were  said  to  be 
heard  in  the  Glen,  and  doleful  wailings  as  of  some 
one  in  agony. 

Long  ago,  according  to  tradition,  a  woman  had 
been  murdered  in  the  Glen  by  her  false  lover  and 
betrayer.  Hugh  Bronte  had  told  the  story,  with 
minute  details  and  local  colour,  till  everybody  who 
frequented  the  gatherings  at  the  Kiln  knew  it  by 

heart. 

205 


206  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

The  villain  had  enticed  his  victim  to  Rathfriland 
fair  on  pretence  of  getting  the  wedding  ring.  He 
had  there  attempted  to  strangle  her,  but  she  had 
escaped  from  his  grasp,  and  was  making  her  way 
home  to  her  mother,  through  fields  and  by-ways, 
when,  according  to  one  of  Patrick  Bronte's  unpub- 
lished songs, 

"  Over  hedges  and  ditches  he  took  the  near  way, 
Until  he  got  before  her  on  that  dismal  day." 

He  waylaid  her  in  the  lonely  Glen,  and  murdered 
her  under  circumstances  of  great  atrocity.  On  that 
night  the  ghost  of  the  murdered  woman  rushed 
upon  the  assassin,  and  with  a  wild  scream  dragged 
him  from  his  bed,  and  through  the  window  of  his 
cabin,  and  down,  down,  down  with  unearthly  yells 
to  the  bottomless  pit.  The  whole  story  was  told 
in  rude  ballad  style,  I  believe,  by  Patrick  Bronte> 
and  sung  to  a  sad  air  at  local  gatherings.  The 
following  is  a  verse  : — 

"  This  young  man  he  went  to  his  bed,  all  in  a  dreadful  fright, 
And  Kitty's  ghost  appeared  to  him  ;  it  was  an  awful  sight : 
She  clasped  her  arms  (a-rums]  round  him  saying,  '  You're  a 

false  young  man, 
But  now  I'll  be  avenged  of  you,  so  do  the  best  you  can.' " 

The  punishment  was,  according  to  local  senti- 
ment, well  deserved  ;  but  both  were  doomed  to 
walk  the  earth  for  a  thousand  years.  They  had 
made  their  abode  in  the  Glen,  and  hence  the  doleful 


THE  BRONTES  AND    THE  GHOSTS  207 

and  dismal  voices  that  rendered  night  so  fearsome 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Brontes. 

Another  circumstance  added  to  the  horror  with 
which  the  Glen  was  regarded  at  night.  It  was  said 
that,  at  a  remote  period,  a  man  who  had  been 
robbed  committed  suicide  at  a  crossing  of  the 
brook.  He  was  still  living  when  found  with  his 
throat  cut,  and  up  to  his  last  breath  he  continued 
to  moan,  with  a  gurgling  sound,  "  There  were  ten 
tenpennies  in  my  pocket  at  the  river."  This  story, 
told  at  night  in  a  deep,  guttural  voice,  each  word 
long  drawn  out,  and  the  last  word  pronounced 
re-e-ever,  had  a  wonderful  power  of  inspiring  awe 
and  making  the  blood  run  cold. 

I  believe  the  story  was  founded  on  fact.  A  man 
had  committed  suicide  under  the  circumstances 
narrated,  but  in  quite  a  different  part  of  the  country. 
The  deed,  however,  had  come  to  be  located  in  the 
Bronte  Glen,  and  increased  the  superstitious  awe 
with  which  the  place  had  come  to  be  regarded.  A 
snipe  frequented  the  spot  at  night,  and  as  people 
attempted  to  cross,  it  would  start  with  a  sudden 
screech  from  almost  beneath  their  feet.  The  bird 
with  the  unearthly  yell  was  supposed  to  be  the 
spirit  of  the  unfortunate  man. 

It  was  said  that  on  one  occasion  Hugh  Bronte 
was  riding  home  with  a  neighbour.  When  they 
reached  the  Glen  a  headless  horseman  appeared 
on  the  road  in  front  of  them.  The  neighbour's 


208  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

horse  stood  shivering  as  if  rooted  to  the  ground  ; 
but  Bronte's  horse,  without  any  appearance  of  fear, 
walked  up  to  the  dreadful  object,  and  Bronte, 
unmoved  and  without  pause  or  word,  simply 
cracked  his  whip  at  it,  and  it  disappeared  in  a 
flash  of  light. 

Ghost-baiting  became  a  passion  with  the  Brontes  ; 
and  though  they  were  too  proud  to  associate  with 
their  neighbours,  they  were  not  averse  to  being 
stared  at  and  talked  of  by  them. 

The  mill  at  the  lower  end  of  the  Glen,  where  now 
stand  Mr.  Ratcliffe's  dwelling-house  and  offices,  was 
haunted.  Lights  flitted  through  it  at  night,  and  no 
one  would  go  near  it  after  sunset.  When  the  terror 
was  at  its  height  Hugh  Bronte  armed  himself  with 
a  sword  and  a  Bible,  and  went  alone  to  encounter 
the  ghost,  or  devil,  or  whatever  it  might  be. 

The  neighbours,  who  saw  Bronte  marching  to  his 
doom,  stood  afar  off  in  the  darkness  and  awaited 
the  result.  Unearthly  noises  were  heard,  and  it 
was  clear  that  a  serious  contest  was  proceeding. 
After  a  long  delay  Bronte  returned,  bruised  and 
battered  and  greatly  exhausted  ;  but  he  would  give 
no  account  of  what  had  transpired. 

His  secrecy  regarding  his  adventure  increased 
the  terror  of  the  superstitious,  for  it  was  given  out 
and  believed  that  Bronte,  having  been  worsted  in 
the  encounter,  saved  himself  by  making  some 
compact  with  the  fiend  or  ghost ;  and  some  even 


THE  BRONTES  AND   THE  GHOSTS  209 

believed  that  he  was  ever  after  in  league  with  the 
powers  of  darkness. 

This  awe-inspiring  theory  seemed  to  be  confirmed 
by  Hugh  Bronte's  subsequent  action.  One  dark  and 
dismal  night  the  ghost  in  the  Glen  began  to  wail 
like  a  child  in  distress.  The  people  barred  their 
doors  and  covered  their  heads  in  bed  with  their 
blankets,  and  stopped  their  ears  to  keep  out  the 
unearthly  sounds  ;  but  Hugh  Bronte  went  down 
quietly  to  the  Glen  and  soothed  the  ghost,  until  by 
little  and  little  its  moaning  died  away.  On  several 
occasions  it  was  believed  that  Hugh  Bronte  was 
actually  seen  in  the  Glen,  standing  with  his  hand 
on  the  mane  of  a  magnificent  black  horse  ;  but  when 
any  neighbour  drew  near  the  black  horse  dwindled 
into  a  great  black  cat,  which  kept  purring  around 
Bronte  and  rubbing  itself  against  his  legs.  As  soon 
as  the  neighbour  withdrew,  the  cat  would  again 
develop  into  the  large  black  horse,  and  Bronte  was 
often  seen  riding  up  and  down  upon  it  over 
precipices  and  ravines  where  there  was  no  path. 

There  was  also  supposed  to  be  a  white-sheeted 
figure  that  used  to  frequent  the  Glen,  carrying  a 
little  child  in  her  arms.  It  was  said  that  she  was 
in  the  habit  of  asking  for  a  night's  lodging,  but 
never  seemed  disposed  to  accept  it.  She  generally 
kept  her  face  covered  or  averted  ;  but  when  it  was 
exposed  it  proved  to  be  a  toothless,  grinning  skull, 
with  a  light  shining  from  each  eyeless  socket. 

14 


210  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

One  of  the  Bronte  sisters  and  her  daughter  lived 
in  a  house  near  by  in  which  a  man  called  Frazer 
had  hanged  himself.  The  house  was  declared  to 
be  haunted.  Apparitions  appeared  in  it  both  by 
day  and  night,  but  especially  at  night.  Noises 
were  heard,  and  rumblings  in  the  rooms  during 
the  hours  of  darkness.  When  the  inmates  slept  at 
night,  something  like  a  huge  frog  with  claws  used 
to  rush  up  the  clothes  from  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and 
settle  on  their  chests  and  almost  suffocate  them. 

Hugh  went  to  his  sister's  house  one  night,  taking 
his  gun  with  him.  He  upbraided  Frazer's  ghost  for 
his  ungallant  and  mean  conduct  in  frightening  lone 
women,  and  then  called  on  him  to  come  out  like 
a  man  and  face  him.  But  nothing  appeared,  the 
ghost  evidently  declining  to  face  a  loaded  musket. 
Bronte  was  importunate  in  his  challenge,  taunting 
the  ghost  with  all  kinds  of  sarcastic  gibes  and 
accusations,  that  he  might  irritate  it  into  appearing  ; 
but  the  ghost  would  not  be  drawn.  Then  he  fired 
off  his  gun,  and  challenged  the  ghost  to  meet  him 
face  to  face,  using  every  scornful  and  reproachful 
epithet  to  drive  it  into  a  passion,  but  all  in  vain. 

On  the  following  night  Hugh  returned  to  the 
haunted  house  with  a  fiddle,  and  tried  to  coax  the 
ghost  to  appear  in  response  to  the  music.  The 
ghost,  however,  remained  obdurate,  regardless  alike 
of  threats,  reproaches,  and  blandishments. 

Bronte  returned  home  that  night  in   a  state  of 


THE  BRONTES  AND    THE  GHOSTS  213 

wild  excitement.  All  the  way  he  incessantly 
called  on  Frazer  to  come  and  shake  hands  with 
him  and  make  up  their  quarrel.  He  retired  to 
bed  in  a  delirium  of  frenzy,  and  during  the  night 
the  ghost  appeared  to  him  and  gave  him  a  terrific 
squeeze,  from  which  he  never  recovered.  He  died 
shortly  after  in  great  suffering,  upbraiding  Frazer 
for  his  heartless  cruelty  and  cowardice,  and  he 
declared  on  dying  that  when  he  reached  the  land 
of  shadows  he  would  take  measures  to  prevent 
Frazer  from  haunting  his  sister  and  niece.  After 
Hugh's  death  the  rumblings  and  apparitions  ceased 
to  trouble  his  sister's  house  any  more.* 

The  great  horror,  however,  of  the  haunted  glen 
was  the  headless  horseman.  The  phantom  generally 
made  its  appearance  among  thickets  of  tangled 
bushes  which  no  horse  could  penetrate,  and  glided 
silently  over  uneven  and  broken  ground  where  no 
horse  could  have  gone. 

It  always  appeared  to  be  ridden  and  guided  by 
a  man  in  flowing  robes,  whose  feet  were  firmly  in 
the  stirrups,  and  whose  hands  held  the  bridle,  but 
whose  head  had  been  chopped  off,  leaving  only  a 
red  and  jagged  stump. 

*  Hugh  Norton,  now  about  ninety  years  of  age,  remembers 
the  whole  matter,  and  has  given  me  both  a  verbal  and  written 
account  of  it.  He  says  Hugh  when  dying  gave  orders  that  no 
whiskey  should  be  served  out  at  his  wake,  and  threatened  to 
return  and  destroy  the  company  if  his  orders  were  disregarded. 


2I4    '  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

The  ghastly  spectacle  was  so  minutely  described 
by  the  Bronte's  that  others  carried  the  picture  of  it 
in  their  imaginations,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  if  many  thought  they  saw  the  spectre  among 
the  shimmering  shadows  of  the  trees. 

A  neighbour  of  the  Brontes,  Kaly  Nesbit,  once 
gave  to  a  number  of  us  a  vivid  account  of  the 
apparition.  He  told  the  story  with  great  earnest- 
ness, and  with  apparent  conviction  as  to  its  truth. 
I  give  his  account  as  nearly  as  I  can  in  his  own 
quaint  language  :  — 

"I  heerd  the  horse  nichering  in  the  glen.  It 
was  not  the  voice  of  a  horse,  but  of  a  fiend,  for  it 
came  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  shook 
the  hills  and  made  the  trees  quake. 

"  Besides,  there  was  no  room  for  a  horse  on  the 
steep  bank  and  among  the  bushes  and  brablach. 
I  had  just  had  a  drap  of  whiskey,  about  a  naggin, 
and  I  wasn't  a  bit  afeard  of  witch  or  warlock,  ghost 
or  divil,  and  so  I  stept'  into  the  Glen  to  see  for 
myself  whatever  was  to  be  seen.  At  first  I  could 
not  see  any  inkling  of  a  horse,  but  I  heerd  the 
branches  swishing  along  his  sides  at  the  lower  end 
of  the  Glen.  Then  I  saw  a  large  dark  object,  as 
big  as  a  haystack,  coming  nixt  me,  and  walking 
straight  through  trees  and  bushes,  as  if  they  were 
mere  shadows. 

"  I  juked  down  behind  a  hedge  of  broom,  and 
as  I  hunkered  in  the  shadow,  he  came  on  in  the 


THE  BRONTES  AND    THE  GHOSTS  215 

slightly  dusk  light.  The  horse  was  as  big  as  four 
horses,  and  at  a  distance  I  thought  the  rider  was  a 
huge  blackaviced  man ;  but  when  he  came  fornenst 
me,  the  moon  fell  full  upon  him  through  a  break 
in  the  trees,  and  then  I  saw  that  he  was  crulged 
up  on  the  saddle,  and  that  only  a  red  stump  stuck 
up  between  his  shoulders  where  his  head  should 
have  been. 

"  I  escaped  unseen,  but  just  as  the  tarrible  thing 
passed  me  it  nichered  again  horribly,  and  I  saw 
sparks  of  fire  darting  out  of  its  mouth. 

"  It  then  turned  and  cut  triangle  across  the  valley, 
passing  over  the  Cock-pit,  and  walking  upon  the  air 
as  it  emerged  into  the  moonlight.  It  walked  up 
straight  against  the  steep  edge  of  the  quarry-pit, 
and  vanished  into  the  bank.  I  saw  it  vanishing  by 
degrees,  like  a  shadow,  at  first  black,  then  growing 
lighter  and  lighter  till  it  entirely  disappeared,  and 
there  was  nothing  on  the  high  bank  where  it 
stopped  but  the  bright  moonlight." 

Kaly  Nesbit  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  very 
good  old  man.  1  knew  him  pretty  well,  especially 
as  a  near  relative  of  his  had  been  my  kind  old 
nurse,  who  imparted  to  me  much  Bronte  lore.  I 
am  sure  he  believed  the  fascinating  story  he  told  ; 
but  a  "  naggin  "  of  whiskey  is  a  rather  indefinite 
quantity,  and  Kaly  Nesbit  on  that  night  may 
have  had  his  faculties  for  hearing  and  seeing  in  a 
sensitive  condition. 


216  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

However  that  may  have  been,  his  sober  and 
earnest  account  of  the  monstrous  spectre,  confirm- 
ing as  it  did  the  wildest  stories  of  the  Brontes, 
created  a  profound  impression. 

Captain  Mayne  Reid  was  then  a  student  in 
Mr.  McKee's  school.  Ghost  stories  were  entirely 
in  young  Reid's  line,  and  he  took  great  delight 
in  finding  out  and  piecing  together  the  different 
accounts  of  those  who  had  been  frightened  by  the 
supernatural  visitors  of  the  haunted  Glen.  He 
sometimes  mingled  his  own  yarn  with  the  Bronte 
tales,  and  he  finally  ended  by  producing  a  Texan 
tale,  called  after  the  Brontes'  crack  ghost — T/ie 
Headless  Horseman. 

Captain  Mayne  Reid's  stories  were  received  with 
wild  excitement  in  the  old  school  from  which  he 
had  gone  forth.  The  WJiite  Chief,  The  War  Trail, 
The  Scalp  Hunters,  were  looked  upon  as  the  most 
wonderful  tales  that  had  ever  been  told  ;  but  when 
The  Headless  Horseman  appeared  on  a  mustang 
without  a  scrap  of  mystery  or  element  of  the  super- 
natural, all  felt  that  the  real  headless  horseman 
had  been  degraded  to  base  ends,  and  that  Captain 
Mayne  Reid  had  become  a  fumbler  in  his  art.  I 
do  not  think  his  old  chums  ever  delighted  in  any- 
thing he  wrote  afterwards. 

The  palmy  days  of  the  Glen  ghosts  had  passed 
before  my  day.  Familiarity  with  the  scenes  and 
stories  had  to  some  extent  bred  contempt.  Perhaps, 


THE  BRONTES  AND   THE  GHOSTS  217 

too,  I  belonged  to  a  less  imaginative  and  more 
realistic  set ;  but  I  well  remember  the  awful  feeling 
of  dread  that  used  to  settle  down  on  me  in  silence 
and  at  night. 

In  Mayne  Reid's  school  days  ghost-hunting  was 
a  dissipation  as  much  in  vogue  as  slumming  is  now 
in  London.  Reid,  I  have  heard,  was  brave  enough 
by  day  in  the  ghostly  regions  ;  but,  like  the  rest  of 
his  companions,  he  had  no  desire  to  approach  the 
haunted  Glen  at  night. 

The  ghosts  of  the  Bronte  Glen  have,  however, 
fallen  on  commonplace  times.  The  younger  gene- 
ration now  living  in  the  same  romantic  region 
have  perhaps  never  even  heard  of  them ;  or  if 
they  have,  they  push  the  report  aside  as  "  Bronte 
rubbish."  If  one  of  the  young  farmers  who  now 
cultivate  the  same  fields  should  happen  to  meet 
a  ghost  horse  in  the  Glen,  he  would  run  it  into 
his  stable  for  the  night  without  a  superstitious 
thought,  and  clap  it  to  the  plough  on  the  morrow. 
No  gallivanting  ghosts  would  now  be  tolerated. 

Fifty  or  sixty  years  ago  or  earlier  the  numerous 
unearthly  apparitions,  or  rather  the  accounts  of 
them,  used  to  darken  young  lives,  and  render  the 
silent  and  solitary  hours  hideous  with  dread  appre- 
hensions ;  and  I  can  say  for  myself  that  the  keenest 
mental  distress  I  have  ever  endured  arose  from 
the  dread  of  hobgoblins  and  other  such  monsters 
of  the  imagination  and  the  darkness.  I  think  by 


218  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

the  time  I  was  three  or  four  years  of  age,  certainly 
at  the  age  of  five,  I  had  become  acquainted  with 
the  whole  hierarchy  of  ghosts  and  goblins ;  but  of  all 
the  dreadful  creatures  of  the  imagination  brought 
under  my  notice,  the  most  real,  and  hence  the  most 
awful,  were  those  of  the  Bronte  Glen. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

PATRICK  BRONTE'S  CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY 
SURROUNDINGS 

T)ATRICK  BRONTE  first  saw  the  light  in  the 
^-  little  Emdale  cottage  in  the  parish  of  Drum- 
goolandon  the  i/th  of  March,  1777.  That  day  was 
Ireland's  great  national  holiday,  and  the  child  was 
named  Patrick  as  a  tribute  to  the  national  senti- 
ment, and  a  compliment  to  his  uncle  Patrick,  known 
as  "  Red  Paddy."  There  was  a  touch  of  Ulster 
shrewdness  in  starting  the  child  in  life  with  a  name 
so  comprehensive,  that  it  did  honour  at  the  same 
time  to  Ireland's  patron  saint  and  to  his  own  richest 
relative. 

The  Bedawi  child,  when  born  in  the  desert  tent, 
stares  at  the  sun  and  wonders.     The  first  object 
that  must  have    attracted   the  attention   of  baby 
Patrick  was  the  red  eye  of  the  corn-kiln  in   the 
kitchen.     The  little  fellow  used  to  roll  about,  not 
much  encumbered  with  garments,  on  the  heap  of 
dry  seeds  from  which  his  father  beeked  the  kiln. 
From    the  earliest    moment  of  intelligence  the 
219 


220  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

child  had  an  opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted 
with  his  father's  tales,  and  even  before  he  could 
take  in  the  meaning  of  the  narrative  he  used  to 
listen  with  the  rest,  for  a  child  will  listen  to  a 
good  story-teller  when  he  does  not  apprehend  the 
drift  of  the  story,  and  as  a  rule  young  children 
get  too  little  credit  for  understanding  what  their 
elders  say. 

By  the  time  he  was  six  or  seven  years  of  age 
he  must  have  known  all  his  father's  stories,  which, 
in  romantic  interest  and  as  a  mental  stimulant, 
were  equal  to  a  considerable  library.  Hugh  Bronte 
was  a  man  of  two  books.  He  was  a  constant 
reader  of  the  Bible  and  of  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  and  by  the  time  Patrick  was  eight  he 
would  know  all  the  stories  in  both  books  in  outline. 

Patrick  was  not  long  the  only  child  in  the  cot- 
tage. Every  second  year  a  brother  or  a  sister 
succeeded,  until  the  family  numbered  ten. 

There  was  no  luxurious  living  in  Hugh  Bronte's 
cottage,  and  Patrick  never  regretted  the  want  of 
it,  for  he  sought  to  conduct  his  own  household 
on  lines  of  simple  frugality.  Possibly  he  erred  in 
trying  to  bring  up  his  delicate  little  girls  in  the 
Spartan  style  in  which  he  himself  had  been  reared  ; 
but  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  in  this  matter, 
as  in  many  others,  Mrs.  Gaskell  exaggerated  the 
facts,  to  add  to  the  sombre  character  of  the  picture 
which  she  chose  to  produce. 


PATRICK  BRONTE'S   CHILDHOOD  221 

The  style  of  living  in  the  cottage  was  very 
simple.  Patrick's  breakfast,  about  nine  o'clock, 
consisted  of  porridge  and  milk,  furnished  in  a 
wooden  noggin  and  eaten  with  a  wooden  spoon. 
For  dinner,  about  twelve  o'clock,  a  quantity  of 
potatoes  boiled  in  their  skins  was  emptied  on 
a  table  within  a  wooden  hoop  which  kept  them 
from  rolling  off.  The  poorest  peasant  in  Ireland 
knows  how  to  boil  potatoes,  so  that  when  turned 
out  on  the  table  they  appear  "  laughing  out  of  their 
skins."  Any  moisture  that  may  have  remained  in 
the  vessel  with  the  potatoes  either  dripped  from 
the  table  on  to  the  earthen  floor  or  evaporated. 

The  children  sat  round  the  table,  peeled  the 
potatoes  with  their  fingers,  and  ate  them  with 
pepper  and  salt,  and  sometimes  with  a  supply 
of  buttermilk.  "  Sweet  milk  "  from  the  cow  then 
cost  a  halfpenny  per  quart,  and  buttermilk  six 
quarts  a  penny.  As,  however,  the  Brontes  lived 
near  their  uncle  Paddy,  they  would  probably  be 
well  supplied  with  milk,  and  after  a  time  they 
had  a  cow  of  their  own.  "  Piece-time,"  eagerly 
awaited,  arrived  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
and  each  child  received  a  piece  of  home-made 
bread  and  a  small  noggin  of  buttermilk. 

There  were  at  that  time  three  kinds  of  home- 
made bread  :  oat-bread,  much  thicker  and  coarser 
than  the  same  article  at  the  present  day ;  then 
there  was  fadge,  made  of  the  potatoes  remaining 


222  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

over  from  dinner  and  oatmeal  mashed  up  well 
together,  and  rolled  out  in  the  form  of  thick  cakes  ; 
then  there  was  slim,  made  of  potatoes  broken  up 
very  fine  and  mixed  with  flour  and  butter.  The 
raised  soda  bap,  or  scone,  came  later.  All  these 
kinds  of  bread  were  baked  on  a  griddle,  or  girdle, 
which  was  hung  over  an  open  fire.  The  baking 
process  was  called  "  naming,"  and  the  mashing  up 
of  the  potatoes  with  meal  and  flour  into  cakes  was 
called  "  baking." 

Of  these  three  kinds  of  bread,  the  mainstay  of 
the  Bronte  family  was  the  fadge.  It  was  rough 
and  plenteous,  and  the  sturdy  little  people  throve 
well  upon  it,  and  they  were  not  fastidious. 

It  was  often  followed  by  heartburn  or  waterbrasJi, 
which  the  sufferers  had  not  learnt  to  call  by  the 
fine  Greek  name  "dyspepsia." 

Supper,  which  was  served  by  six  or  seven  o'clock, 
consisted  in  Patrick  Bronte's  childhood  of  potatoes, 
and  was  a  stereotyped  repetition  of  the  dinner, 
except  that  the  quantity  was  less,  and  the  meal 
was  not  treated  in  so  serious  a  fashion. 

About  the  same  time,  "  boiled  milk,"  as  it  was 
called,  began  to  alternate  with  potatoes  for  supper. 
It  consisted  of  thin  porridge  made  with  milk 
instead  of  water.  The  boiled  milk  was  greatly 
appreciated,  but  it  was  a  step  on  the  road  to 
luxury. 

A  new  kind  of  porridge  known  as  sowans  was 


PATRICK  BRONTE'S  CHILDHOOD  223 

also  discovered  ;  it  was  sometimes  called  flummery. 
Sowans  was  produced  by  placing  the  seeds  sifted 
from  the  meal  in  an  earthenware  crock,  and  pouring 
hot  water  on  them  till  they  were  thoroughly 
saturated.  That  was  called  the  steeping  process. 
After  twelve  hours  the  seeds  were  wrung  out  of 
the  water,  and  the  fluid  which  remained,  and  which 
had  become  almost  like  milk,  was  strained  into  a 
pot,  which  was  placed  over  a  fire  and  stirred  in- 
cessantly with  a  potstick  till  it  thickened.  Sowans 
was  only  sufficiently  cooked  when  on  lifting  the 
potstick  it  ran  down  from  it,  attenuated  like  a 
thread,  "  fine  enough  to  thread  a  needle." 

A  supper  of  sowans  was  considered  a  great 
delicacy,  and  was  supposed  to  be  good  for  delicate 
people ;  but  the  children  always  preferred  the  boiled 
milk  porridge. 

On  certain  important  days,  such  as  Christmas 
Day  and  Easter  Sunday,  meat  would  find  a  place 
in  the  domestic  economy.  Uncle  Paddy  killed  an 
aged  cow  yearly,  and  the  beef,  when  salted,  was 
hung  up  to  the  black  rafters  in  the  kitchen.  Some- 
times also  a  pig  was  killed,  and  salted  for  home 
use,  and  portions  of  such  dainties  found  their  way 
to  the  Bronte  children.  Eggs,  too,  were  introduced 
at  dinner  instead  of  milk,  and,  beaten  up  with 
mashed  potatoes  in  noggins,  were  eaten  raw. 

The  greatest  of  all  dainties,  however,  accessible 
at  that  period  to  people  like  the  Brontes  was 


224  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

peppermint-tea.  Peppermint  and  horehound  were 
cultivated,  cut,  dried,  and  hung  up  to  the  rafters 
in  little  bunches,  and  a  few  stalks,  infused  with 
abundant  milk  and  sugar,  provided  the  family  tea. 
But  the  new  beverage  was  much  condemned  as  a 
luxury,  and  it  marred  a  girl's  matrimonial  prospects 
to  have  it  said  of  her  that  she  was  a  "  tea-drinker." 

By-and-by  peppermint-tea  came  to  be  used  at 
piece-time  in  the  harvest  field,  and  harvesters  used 
to  stipulate  to  have  it  supplied  to  them,  as  servants 
now  bargain  for  beer.  But  even  then,  and  for  long 
after,  farmers  and  workmen  continued  to  regard 
"  tea-drinking  girls  "  as  likely  to  prove  extravagant 
wives. 

Young  Patrick  would  be  occupied  in  gathering 
peppermint  in  the  Glen  and  cultivating  it  in  the 
garden.  It  would  be  his  share  of  the  work  to  cut 
it  and  care  for  it.  He  would  go  to  the  grocer- 
house  for  sugar,  then  very  dear.  He  would  fetch 
milk  from  Uncle  Paddy's,  and  he  would  gather 
the  ducks'  eggs,  which  were  generally  to  be  found 
in  the  furze  bushes.  He  would  have  a  hand  in 
"  harning  "  the  bread  and  stirring  the  sowans,  and 
he  would  bear  a  large  share  in  tending  the  other 
children.  He  would  fetch  water  in  a  bucket  from 
the  well,  and  sweep  the  floor ;  and  in  the  constant 
round  of  home  errands  his  young  life  must  have 
been  brimful  of  domestic  duties. 

By  the  time  Patrick  had  reached  the  age  of  nine 


PATRICK  BRONTE'S   CHILDHOOD  225 

he  had  to  take  his  share  in  the  important  agricul- 
tural operation  of  gathering  potatoes.  The  work 
for  children  is  very  hard,  and  requires  a  quick  eye, 
prompt  decision,  and  great  nimbleness  and  endur- 
ance. Potato-gathering  is  of  two  kinds  :  gathering 
"  to  the  spade,"  or  "  pitched  out."  In  gathering  to 
the  spade,  one  gatherer  accompanies  each  digger. 
When  the  digger  drives  his  spade  into  the  ground 
behind  the  potato  plant,  the  gatherer  darts  forward, 
seizes  the  tops  of  the  potato,  then  springs  back  as 
the  plant  is  dug  up,  shakes  the  tubers  from  the 
stalks,  throws  the  tops  into  a  heap  on  the  ridge  and 
the  potatoes  into  a  basket,  and  then  springs  for- 
ward again,  seizes  the  tops  of  the  next  potato  about 
to  be  dug,  and  goes  through  the  same  process. 

It  is  a  pretty  sight  to  see  a  healthy,  active  boy 
skipping  over  the  ground  gathering  potatoes  ;  but 
when  the  work  continues  throughout  a  long  day 
it  is  a  severe  task.  A  boy  can  gather  the  pitched- 
out  potatoes  dug  by  two  men  ;  but  he  does  not 
attend  closely  on  the  spades. 

In  potato-gathering  the  boys  are  barefooted.  In 
the  summer-time  the  work  is  hard  and  detested  by 
boys  ;  but  potatoes  have  generally  to  be  gathered 
in  the  dreary  months  of  September  and  October, 
often  in  the  rain  and  sleet ;  and  it  is  a  piteous  sight 
to  see  the  poor  little  barefooted  children  shivering, 
with  feet  and  hands  blue  with  cold,  and  sometimes 
bleeding,  as  they  follow  the  diggers  from  grey  dawn 

IS 


226  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

to  set  of  sun.  Patrick  took  his  part  in  potato- 
gathering  till  he  had  reached  the  age  of  fourteen. 

Up  to  that  age  it  is  not  likely  that  he  ever  had 
a  pair  of  shoes  on  his  feet.  It  is  just  possible  that 
kind  Uncle  Paddy  may  have  provided  his  namesake 
with  a  pair ;  but  if  so  they  would  not  be  intended 
for  common  use  ;  and  if  he  went  on  an  errand,  say 
to  Rathfriland,  he  would  carry  the  shoes  in  his 
hand  till  he  reached  the  town,  and  take  them  off  his 
feet  again  on  leaving  for  home.  Shoes  were  worn 
in  those  days  by  such  boys  as  Bronte  chiefly  as 
ornaments.  Had  Patrick  gone  to  church,  he  would 
most  probably  have  carried  his  shoes  in  his  hands 
to  the  church  door,  and  have  put  them  on  before 
entering  ;  unlike  the  Arabs,  who  always  remove 
their  shoes  before  going  into  a  place  of  worship. 

During  those  years  young  Bronte  was  always  clad 
in  home-spun.  Most  of  his  garments  were  knitted 
by  his  mother,  and  were  very  enduring  and  excel- 
lent in  every  way.  They  were  warm,  fitted  neatly, 
and  set  off  his  lithe  figure  to  perfection. 

To  the  eyes  of  boys  in  tailor-made  habiliments 
he  looked  a  guy,  and  his  odd  appearance  was  sup- 
posed to  have  some  connection  with  his  mongrel 
origin.  In  his  tights  he  looked  taller  and  slenderer 
than  he  really  was  ;  and  as  he  became  the  subject 
of  constant  ridicule  and  jeering,  he  was  often 
engaged  in  the  operation  of  chastising  boys  who 
looked  twice  as  robust  as  himself. 


PATRICK  BRONTE'S   CHILDHOOD  227 

His  youth  was  harassed  with  perpetual  strife. 
The  Protestant  lads  never  lost  an  opportunity  of 
calling  him  "  Mongrel  Pat,"  or  "  Pat  the  Papish," 
and  the  odium  of  his  mother's  early  religion  clung  to 
him  until  he  got  clear  of  Ireland.  Indeed,  the  slur 
which  was  cast  upon  him  on  account  of  his  mother's 
religion  was  the  determining  cause  which  led  finally 
to  his  decision  to  leave  his  native  country. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen  it  was  thought  desirable 
to  put  him  to  some  trade.  He  had  spent  much  of 
his  time  about  the  Emdale  blacksmith's  shop.  He 
used  to  blow  the  bellows,  and  he  became  very 
expert  in  welding  scrap-iron.  He  also  got  so  far 
as  to  be  able  to  make  horseshoes  and  nails  from 
Swedish  iron  ;  but  he  could  not  become  a  black- 
smith without  being  bound  as  an  apprentice  for 
five  years,  and  his  father  was  too  much  of  a  radical 
to  submit  to  such  an  absurd  arrangement. 

The  trade  of  weaver  also  demanded  an  ap- 
prenticeship, but  only  of  two  years'  duration,  and 
Robert  Donald,  a  friend  of  the  Brontes,  consented 
to  take  Patrick  as  a  learner  without  the  usual 
formalities.  He  made  good  progress  in  acquiring 
skill  in  his  art,  and  before  long  he  was  able  to 
supply  the  Bronte  home  with  all  the  blankets  and 
druggets  and  tweeds  that  were  needed. 

About  that  period  flax  began  to  be  extensively 
cultivated  and  manufactured  in  Ulster,  and  Patrick 
learned  to  weave  linen,  and  used  to  carry  his  webs 


228  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

when  finished  to  Banbridge,  where  he  found  a  ready 
sale.  Those  were  war  times.  Flax  cost  a  pound 
per  stone  then,  which  would  be  worth  five  or  six 
shillings  now.  Linen  became  correspondingly  dear, 
and  young  Bronte  became  prosperous.  But  his 
prosperity  led  to  a  change  of  occupation.* 

The  weaver  boy  used  to  visit  bookstalls  in 
Banbridge  and  Newry,  and  on  one  occasion  he 
took  his  web  to  Belfast,  and  returned  laden  with 
books.  His  father's  tales  created  in  the  lad  a 
hunger  for  literature,  a  passion  easily  kindled  in  a 
Celtic  boy,  and  he  learned  to  weave  and  read  at  the 
same  time,  with  his  book  propped  up  before  him. 

*  Mr.  Frazer,  now  over  ninety-two  years  of  age,  assures  the 
Rev.  J.  B.  Lusk  that  the  Brontes  were  for  a  time  Catholics. 
He  gives  the  following  account  of  Patrick's  conversion  :  "  He 
was  weaving  in  the  house  of  Robert  Donald,  a  Presbyterian, 
and  a  very  pious  man.  Donald  conducted  family  worship 
every  morning  and  night.  Patrick  overheard  him  reading  and 
praying.  He  became  interested,  asked  questions,  and  finally 
ended  by  becoming  a  Protestant."  I  cannot  reconcile  this 
with  other  facts. 

Mr.  Frazer  is  the  oldest  living  witness  as  to  the  name 
Bronte,  which  he  never  saw  spelled  differently  from  the 
ordinary  way.  There  is  also  a  lease  of  a  farm  given  by  Joseph 
Frazer  to  Hugh  Bronte,  signed  by  Hugh  Bronte  and  James 
Bronte  in  the  usual  orthography.  He  is,  I  believe,  the  only 
survivor  of  the  multitude  who  witnessed  the  Bronte  battle 
eighty-two  years  ago. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

PATRICK  BRONTE'S  SCHOOLS  AND  SCHOOL- 
MASTERS— LEARNING  AND  WEAVING 

PATRICK  BRONTE  at  the  age  of  fifteen  or 
sixteen  appeared  to  be  permanently  fixed  in 
his  profession  as  a  weaver.  The  foundations  of 
the  Ulster  linen  trade  were  then  being  laid.  Flax 
seed  from  Riga  and  Amsterdam  had  begun  to  be 
imported  into  Nevvry  and  Belfast,  and  the  farmers 
were  gradually  learning  to  grow  and  manufacture 
flax  for  the  markets.  The  meadows  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  Bann  were  being  turned  into  bleach- 
greens,  and  the  holmes  of  Down  began  to  gleam 
white  with  webs  spread  out  to  bleach. 

Patrick  Bronte  was  a  good  weaver.  He  flew  the 
shuttle  and  decked  the  sleys  with  deftness  and 
skill,  and  he  was  able  to  earn  good  wages  at  his 
trade.  A  small  matter,  however,  turned  the  whole 
current  of  his  career,  just  as  circumstances  with 
small  beginnings  had  led  his  father  from  the  lime- 
kilns of  Louth  to  the  corn-kiln  of  County  Down. 

He  had  become  so  expert  a  weaver  that  he 
229 


230  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

was  able  to  attend  to  both  loom  and  book  at  the 
same  time.  And  the  more  he  read  his  appetite 
for  book  lore  increased  the  more.  His  earnings 
enabled  him  by  the  acquisition  of  books  to  indulge 
his  growing  thirst  for  knowledge.  He  had  secured 
a  small  copy  of  Milton's  Paradise  Lost.  He  had 
never  come  under  the  spell  of  such  a  book  before, 
and  he  read  and  re-read  it  incessantly.  The  type 
was  very  minute,  and  as  he  was  absorbed  in  the 
subject  of  the  epic  he  failed  in  his  attention  to 
the  work  he  had  in  hand. 

He  had  got  a  commission  from  a  Banbridge 
linen  merchant  to  weave  him  a  number  of  webs  of 
unusual  fineness.  The  merchant  had  provided  him 
with  a  fine  reed,  and  supplied  him  with  the  yarn  ; 
and  young  Bronte,  as  a  skilled  weaver,  seemed  to 
be  on  the  road  to  success,  as  the  pay  for  very  fine 
work  was  much  above  that  paid  for  ordinary 
weaving.  He  was,  however,  a  few  days  beyond 
contract  time  in  delivering  his  second  web,  and 
when  it  was  handed  in  it  was  found  to  be  unsatis- 
factory. 

In  those  days  linen  was  classified  and  registered 
according  to  its  texture,  its  quality  being  regulated 
by  the  number  of  threads  to  the  inch.  When  the 
merchant  placed  his  magnifying-glass  on  Patrick's 
web,  he  found  that  the  warp  had  not  been  regularly 
and  evenly  driven  home,  and  he  fined  him  heavily 
for  imperfect  work. 


PATRICK  BRONTE'S  SCHOOLS  231 

The  young  weaver  returned  home  disgraced  and 
crestfallen.  He  could  not  and  would  not  give  up 
his  reading  ;  but  he  felt  that  he  could  not  carry 
on  his  trade  with  a  divided  mind.  He  resolved 
therefore  that  he  would  give  a  part  of  each  day 
to  reading  and  a  part  to  weaving,  and  endeavour 
to  concentrate  his  attention  on  each  task  while 
engaged  upon  it. 

He  was  not  very  successful  in  adjusting  the 
claims  of  his  intellectual  and  mechanical  occu- 
pations, for  Milton's  good  and  bad  angels  kept 
running  over  the  thread  stretched  out  before  him, 
and  he  was  always  waking  up  to  find  that  he  had 
been  plying  the  shuttle  in  a  reverie,  and  that  serious 
defects  had  escaped  his  notice,  and  were  already 
rolled  on  the  cloth  beam. 

While  he  was  in  this  condition  of  double-minded- 
ness,  he  was  lying  one  summer  day  prone  on  the 
grass  in  Emdale  fort,  reading  the  Paradise  Lost. 
The  Rev.  Andrew  Harshaw,  who  happened  to 
pass  that  way,  drew  near  and  stood  over  the  reader, 
and  remained  listening  to  him  for  a  considerable 
time.  Patrick  was  reciting  aloud  bits  of  Milton  in 
a  kind  of  absent-minded  frenzy,  and  making  com- 
ments as  he  read  with  great  energy.  Suddenly 
looking  up,  he  became  conscious  that  a  man  was 
standing  over  him.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  blush- 
ing, and  apparently  overwhelmed  with  shame. 
Harshaw  spoke  kindly  to  the  youth,  and  entering 


232  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

into  intelligent  conversation  with  him  about  the 
passage  he  had  read,  led  him  on  to  tell  him  of  the 
manner  in  which  he  was  neglecting  his  work,  and 
of  his  inability  to  keep  his  mind  fixed  on  his  task. 

Harshaw  and  young  Bronte,  deeply  engaged  in 
serious  conversation,  walked  arm  in  arm  round 
the  Emdale  fort,  the  remains  of  which  are  still 
visible.  As  Bronte  listened  to  his  new  friend  he 
felt  as  if  his  whole  life  had  become  transformed. 
Harshaw  opened  up  a  vista  of  possibilities  to 
the  depressed  youth,  who  in  his  kindling  enthu- 
siasm saw  everything  in  the  light  of  his  own 
glowing  imagination.  In  his  eyes  the  drab  and 
dull  earth  had  become  instinct  with  life  and  colour, 
and  seemed  bathed  in  a  divine  light  never  seen 
before.  The  lingering  snow  that  streaked  the 
Mourne  Mountains  appeared  to  glow  with  a 
roseate  hue,  and  even  the  sombre  summit  of  the 
Knock  Hill  was  lighted  up  with  golden  gorse. 

Never  before  to  Bronte's  ears  had  the  thrush  in 
the  Glen  sung  so  sweetly,  or  the  lark  flooded  the 
skies  with  such  rapturous  music.  Even  the  hum- 
ming of  the  bees  among  the  clover  was  sweetly 
melodious,  and  the  monotonous  echoes  of  the 
cuckoo  from  the  leafy  sycamore  sounded  as  notes 
of  courage  and  hope. 

Who  was  the  Rev.  Andrew  Harshaw  ?  He  was 
related  in  a  remote  way  to  the  Harshaws  of  Lough- 
orne,  who  had  been  so  kind  to  old  Hugh,  Patrick's 


PATRICK  BRONTE'S  SCHOOLS  233 

father.  They  certainly  had  a  family  likeness,  and 
the  Brontes,  father  and  son,  owed  an  incalculable 
debt  of  gratitude  to  the  Harshaws,  to  whom  English 
literature  also  is  under  an  abiding  obligation. 

The  Rev.  Andrew  Harshaw  was  what  was  com- 
monly called  a  "  stickit  minister."  He  had  been 
educated  and  trained  for  the  ministry  of  the  Presby- 
terian Church  ;  but  as  the  ministers  of  that  Church 
were  called  by  the  free  suffrages  of  the  people  to 
whom  they  were  to  minister,  and  as  he  lacked  pulpit 
power,  he  failed  to  gain  a  pastorate. 

He  was  said  to  have  been  the  first  Irish  Presby- 
terian minister  who  wrote  out  and  read  his  sermons, 
and  no  congregation  would  in  those  days  have 
dreamt  of  calling  a  man  who  took  a  written  sermon 
with  him  to  the  pulpit.  "  If  he  cannot  remember 
what  he  is  going  to  tell  us,"  said  an  old  lady, 
"  when  he  has  all  the  week  to  think  about  it,  how 
could  he  expect  us  to  remember  it  on  hearing  it 
only  once  drawled  out  from  his  copy-book  ?  " 

Mr.  Harshaw  was,  however,  a  first-rate  scholar 
and  a  godly  man.  He  had  completed  an  under 
graduate  course  of  four  years  with  distinction,  and 
he  had  afterwards  passed  some  six  years  in  theo- 
logical studies,  in  addition  to  a  long  preparatory 
school  training.  In  fact,  his  school  and  college 
career  had  been  singularly  brilliant  ;  but  the  work 
of  absorbing  knowledge  is  very  different  from  that 
of  giving  it  out  in  effective  and  eloquent  words, 


234  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

and  so  the  performance  of  his   manhood  fell  far 
short  of  the  promise  of  his  youth. 

There  are  few  sadder  sights  than  that  of  the 
brilliant  student  of  the  university  trying  to  live 
up  to  the  standard  of  his  early  achievements  and 
reputation,  but  passed  in  the  race  by  men  on 
whom  he  had  looked  down  at  college,  and  forgotten 
in  a  utilitarian  age,  which  recks  little  of  brilliant 
scholastic  traditions,  and  tests  everything  by  its 
effectiveness.  Harshaw,  besides  being  an  excellent 
classical  and  mathematical  scholar,  was  deeply  read 
in  English  literature.  He  had  outlived  his  ambi- 
tions, and  settled  down  patiently  to  teach  a  little 
school  in  Ballynafern.  The  school  is  there  to  this 
day,  but  I  believe  the  schoolhouse  has  been  rebuilt 
and  enlarged.  It  stands  on  a  high  hill,  not  far 
from  where  the  Brontes  lived,  and  commands  a 
splendid  view  of  the  surrounding  country. 

I  believe  Harshaw  had  a  farm  close  to  the 
school,  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  he  preferred  the 
learned  leisure  of  attending  to  his  school  and  farm, 
to  the  incessant  preparation  of  sermons  and  the 
stated  visitation  of  families  involved  in  a  country 
pastorate.  I  have  always  understood  that  he  was 
an  indolent  dreamer,  although  a  contemplative 
enthusiast. 

Patrick  Bronte  was  just  the  kind  of  youth  to 
draw  out  the  full  sympathy  of  this  unappreciated 
scholar.  He  was  helpless  and  unhappy  in  his  sordid 


PATRICK  BRONTE'S  SCHOOLS  235 

surroundings.  He  was  hungering  for  knowledge. 
His  aspirations  were  high,  but  he  was  chained  by 
the  exigencies  of  life  to  the  monotonous  existence 
of  a  common  weaver.  He  was  in  revolt  against  the 
task  by  which  he  earned  his  daily  bread  because 
it  allowed  no  time  to  feed  his  mind.  From  Har- 
•shaw  he  learned  how  he  might  exchange  the 
earthen  vessel  of  the  weaver  for  the  golden  bowl 
of  the  scholar.  Before  Harshaw  and  Bronte  parted 
on  that  summer  day  plans  were  laid  for  the  youth's 
future  career.  Harshaw  agreed  to  lend  him  books 
and  to  teach  him.  Bronte  was  to  cultivate  his  loom, 
not  as  a  rival  to  learning,  but  as  its  auxiliary  and 
handmaid.  He  returned  to  his  weaving  with  some- 
thing of  the  spirit  in  which  Jacob  laboured  to  win 
the  beauteous  Rachel  ;  and  though,  like  Jacob,  he 
often  found  himself  clasping  the  blear-eyed  Leah, 
he  worked  on  in  the  teeth  of  disappointment,  and 
never  bated  heart  or  hope  until  he  had  secured  the 
highest  objects  of  his  ambition. 

Artificial  lights  within  reach  of  the  Brontes  were 
in  those  days  very  poor.  Rushlights  were  simply 
the  pith  of  peeled  rushes  dipped  in  melted  tallow. 
They  gave  a  very  dim  light,  and  burnt  quickly. 
The  more  common  lights  were  rosin-sluts.  These 
were  also  manufactured  at  home.  A  few  pounds 
of  rosin  were  melted  in  a  deep  pan  called  a  kam, 
and  long  strings  held  at  the  two  ends  were  dipped 
in  the  hot  melted  rosin.  The  wick  was  turned 


236  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

round  in  the  rosin  until  it  had  taken  on  a  sufficient 
quantity,  and  then  with  the  attached  fluid  was  rolled 
by  the  palms  of  the  hands  on  a  table  until  it  became 
round  like  a  candle.  The  rosin-sluts  gave  better 
light  than  the  rushlights,  but  they  sputtered  a  good 
deal,  required  constant  snuffing,  and  were  otherwise 
objectionable  as  lights  to  weave  by. 

Besides  these  there  were  splits  made  from  bog 
fir  ;  but  they  had  to  be  held  in  the  hand  while 
burning,  and  rubbed  against  each  other  to  remove 
the  black  burnt  part.  Most  of  the  reading  in 
farmhouses  in  those  days  was  done  by  the  firelight, 
assisted  by  splits  ;  but  a  weaver  could  not  cany  on 
his  work  dependent  on  such  precarious  light. 

As  Bronte  could  not  \veave  fine  linen  by  any  of 
those  lights,  his  work  at  the  loom  was  limited  to 
the  hours  of  daylight.  He  wove  incessantly,  and 
with  his  whole  heart  in  his  work,  from  grey  dawn 
to  dusky  eve.  The  remainder  of  his  time  he  had 
at  his  disposal  for  rest  and  study.  He  rose  early 
and  sat  up  late,  and  studied  assiduously  by  the 
light  of  splits. 

During  his  first  years  of  study  young  Bronte 
never  allowed  himself  more  than  five  hours'  sleep 
at  night,  and  in  the  dark  hours  he  used  to  sit  in  his 
uncle  Paddy's  chimney  corner  reading  Ovid  and 
Virgil  and  Homer  and  Herodotus,  and  working  out 
the  problems  of  Euclid  on  the  hearthstone  with  the 
blackened  end  of  his  half-burnt  splits. 


PATRICK  BRONTE'S  SCHOOLS  237 

A  couple  of  hours  before  dawn  he  went  to  Har- 
shaw,  who  received  him  in  his  bedroom,  and  taught 
him  by  the  light  of  a  rosin-slut  free  of  all  charge. 
Harshaw  often  taught  his  pupil  leaning  on  his 
elbow  in  bed  ;  but  he  always  insisted  that  he  should 
be  at  his  loom  in  time  to  begin  his  work  as  soon 
as  daylight  permitted. 

Patrick  Bronte  worked  like  a  man  determined 
to  conquer  all  his  disadvantages.  Perhaps  those 
were  his  happiest  days.  While  he  studied  he  con- 
centrated all  the  powers  of  his  intellect  on  his 
lessons,  and  he  put  into  the  weaving  all  the  skill 
of  which  he  was  capable. 

Harshaw  praised  his  ability,  and  predicted  a 
brilliant  career  for  the  student,  and  the  merchant 
had  no  further  cause  to  complain  of  slovenly 
weaving. 


CHAPTER    XXV 

LEARNING  AND   TEACHING 

PATRICK  BRONTE  had  laboured  heroically 
-*-  at  his  two  tasks  for  about  a  year,  when  his 
Banbridge  employer  suddenly  died,  and  he  was 
thrown  out  of  work.  None  of  the  Banbridge 
merchants  wanted  linen  of  such  fine  texture,  and 
Bronte  did  not  care  to  fall  back  on  coarse  and 
ill-paid  work.  He  had  saved  money,  and  was  able 
for  a  time  to  give  all  his  hours  to  study.  Harshaw 
saw  that  he  had  reached  a  period  when  he  might 
safely  give  up  his  loom  altogether,  and  live  for  the 
future  by  education. 

At  that  time  a  teacher  was  wanted  for  the 
school  in  connection  with  Glascar  Hill  Presby- 
terian Church.  Harshaw  applied  for  the  school 
for  his  pupil  Bronte ;  but  the  managers  did  not 
consider  a  youth  whose  mother  was  a  Roman 
Catholic  a  suitable  person  to  teach  Presbyterian 
children.  Besides  this  there  was  some  danger 
that  the  Orange  party  would  not  send  their 
children  to  be  taught  by  a  Bronte.  Another 

238 


LEARNING  AND    TEACHING 


239 


candidate  was  appointed  to  the  post,  but  some- 
thing prevented  him  from  accepting  the  situation, 
and  in  the  hour  of  disappointment  the  minister 
of  the  congregation,  the  Rev.  Alexander  Moore, 
appointed  Bronte  teacher  on  his  own  responsibility. 


GLASCAR    SCHOOL,    WHERE    PATRICK    BRONTE?    FIRST   TAUGHT. 

The  Brontes,  who  lived  less  than  a  mile  from  the 
Glascar  school,  were  known  as  people  who  went 
regularly  to  no  place  of  worship  on  Sundays. 
Occasionally  some  of  them  dropped  into  Glascar 
Meeting  House  at  the  time  of  public  worship  ;  but 
such  casual  attendance  did  little  to  remove  the 


240  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

stigma  of  living  like  the  heathen.  They  seldom 
repeated  their  visits,  for  they  were  proud  people, 
and  did  not  like  to  be  stared  at  as  reprobates. 

From  the  time  of  his  appointment  young  Bronte 
attended  regularly  at  the  Presbyterian  service,  and 
assisted  in  conducting  the  music.  His  brothers 
and  sisters  also  became  regular  worshippers  at 
Glascar,  and  he  himself  became  soon  a  favourite 
both  in  the  school  and  in  the  Church,  except  with 
a  few  extreme  Orangemen,  who  never  missed  an 
opportunity  of  reminding  him  of  his  mother's 
religion. 

It  is  still  remembered  that  "  Master  Bronte " 
studied  the  characters  of  his  pupils,  and  dealt  with 
each  one  according  to  his  abilities.  In  this  matter 
he  differed  widely  from  the  ordinary  school  teacher, 
who  makes  no  difference  between  clever  boys  and 
dull  boys,  and  labours  like  a  drill  sergeant  to  make 
all  march  by  the  same  line  and  rule.  There  is  no 
profession  in  the  world  in  which  one  sees  learning 
and  common  sense  so  absolutely  divorced  as  in  that 
of  the  school  teacher. 

The  little  boy  with  the  bright  eye  and  massive 
head  of  the  scholar  is  at  the  top  of  the  class  with 
scarcely  an  effort,  while  the  leaden-eyed,  sloping- 
headed  scion  of  a  race  of  dunces  is  toiling  with  his 
featherweight  of  brains  at  the  bottom  of  the  class. 
The  boy  with  ten  talents  is  praised  and  petted,  and 
rewarded  for  doing  the  work  that  the  boy  with  one 


LEARNING  AND   TEACHING  241 

talent  is  expected  to  do ;  and  the  boy  with  one 
talent  is  bullied  and  punished  for  not  doing  the 
same  lesson  as  the  boy  with  ten  talents. 

Those  were  the  good  old  whipping  days,  only 
the  taws  fell  on  the  wrong  palms.  The  teachers 
should  have  been  whipped  for  beating  dull  boys 
because  they  could  not  learn  lessons  thai  they  had 
neither  brains  nor  heart  to  learn. 

Patrick  Bronte  began  on  a  different  plan.  He 
found  out  what  each  pupil  could  do  and  liked  to  do, 
and  he  endeavoured  to  educate  them  on  the  lines 
of  their  own  gifts  and  qualifications.  By  education 
he  sought  to  draw  out  and  develop  the  faculties 
with  which  they  were  endowed.  Teaching  on  these 
lines,  he  had  no  occasion  to  exercise  physical  force. 
He  brought  common  sense  or  "  gumption "  to  his 
work,  and  he  required  no  taws. 

The  pupils  of  Glascar  school  were  largely  the 
children  of  farmers  and  workpeople.  When  the 
master  came  upon  a  child  preternaturally  dull,  he 
did  not  harass  him  as  a  blockhead,  or  make  his  life 
miserable  as  a  dunce.  He  never  let  the  school,  or 
even  the  boy  himself,  suspect  that  he  was  dull ;  but 
he  put  him  to  easy  lessons  that  were  necessary  to 
qualify  him  for  the  narrow  sphere  in  which  his  life 
would  in  all  probability  be  cast,  and  the  pupil 
worked  at  these  with  hearty  goodwill  and  intelli- 
gence. 

But  when  he  found  a  clever  student  he  let  him 

16 


242  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

have  full  swing  in  the  higher  branches,  and  several 
little  country  boys  who  began  their  studies  under 
Bronte  succeeded  in  forcing  their  ways  to  the 
universities,  and  some  of  them  became  professional 
men  of  eminence. 

To  all  the  pupils  who  came  under  his  influence 
he  communicated  a  taste  for  learning  in  their  own 
spheres,  which  they  never  forgot ;  and  some  of  them 
who  were  unable  to  reach  the  university  themselves 
were  careful  to  let  their  children  have  the  advantages 
that  they  had  missed. 

During  the  short  time  he  was  teacher  at  Glascar, 
Master  Bronte  put  new  life  into  the  school.  He 
became  the  friend  of  all  his  pupils,  and  visited  their 
parents  to  advise  as  to  their  careers.  The  dull 
pupils  he  sent  home  to  help  their  parents ;  but 
he  established  a  night-school  in  which  they  might 
practise  what  they  had  learnt,  and  learn  more  if 
they  were  so  inclined. 

At  the  night-school  amusement  was  added  to 
lessons,  and  there  was  no  difficulty  in  drawing 
pupils.  Before  the  classes  broke  up,  the  young 
people  were  put  through  a  series  of  gymnastics, 
and  a  number  of  Church  tunes  were  sung,  each  pupil 
repeating  the  words  he  wished  to  be  sung,  and 
raising  his  own  tune.  Bronte  thus  sought  to  quicken 
intelligence  in  the  dull  pupils,  for  whom  the  night- 
school  was  principally  intended. 

But  when  Bronte  found  really  bright  pupils  he 


LEARNING  AND   TEACHING  243 

was  loth  to  part  with  them,  and  so  earnestly  did 
he  plead  with  their  parents  that  many  of  them 
permitted  their  children  to  remain  at  school  longer 
than  they  otherwise  would  have  done,  that  they 
might  enjoy  the  training  of  their  enthusiastic 
young  teacher. 

On  this  subject  the  Rev.  W.  J.  McCracken  of 
Ballyeaston  writes  me  as  follows  : — 

"  My  mother  was  a  pupil  of  Patrick  Bronte  when 
he  taught  the  school  at  Glascar  Hill.  I  heard  her 
say  so  many  a  time.  She  was  also  a  favourite 
scholar  with  him  ;  for  when  she  was  withdrawn 
from  school  to  help  in  household  work,  she  being 
the  eldest  of  a  large  family,  Patrick  Bronte  came 
to  her  father's  house,  and  besought  them  to  send 
her  back  and  keep  at  home  another  sister,  whom 
he  considered  a  dull  girl.  Patrick  must  have  been 
teaching  this  school  about  the  beginning  of  the 
century,  as  my  mother  was  six  years  old  at  the 
time  of  the  rebellion." 

Many  such  traditions  still  linger  in  the  Glascar 
district.  Master  Bronte  did  not  limit  his  pupils  to 
the  ordinary  school-books.  The  despotic  system 
of  competitive  examinations  on  the  Chinese  model 
had  not  then  been  established  in  country  schools, 
and  children  were  not  treated  simply  as  smooth 
bores,  and  charged  to  the  muzzles  with  text-books, 
to  be  belched  forth  on  testing  days,  leaving  nothing 
behind  but  wasted  residuum.  They  could  touch 


244  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

subjects  of  interest  that  did  not  tell  in  examinations, 
and  so  the  young  teacher  introduced  them  to 
Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  and  other  masterpieces  of 
English  literature. 

They  took  the  teacher's  book  home  at  night  in 
turn,  copied  out  their  pieces,  and  then  recited 
them  at  the  close  of  school  hours,  or  at  the  night- 
school.  The  young  people's  minds  were  thus  stored 
with  noble  forms  of  speech  and  glowing  thoughts, 
and  the  wave  of  intelligence  and  literary  taste  set 
in  motion  at  Glascar  in  the  closing  years  of  last 
century  cannot  be  said  to  have  quite  died  away. 

Mr.  Harshaw  continued  to  teach  and  advise 
young  Bronte,  although  the  Glascar  school  had 
become  a  formidable  rival  to  that  of  Ballynafern. 
He  saw  that  his  pupil  had  capacity  for  a  higher 
sphere  than  that  of  school  teacher  at  Glascar,  where 
each  pupil  paid  one  penny  per  week  for  education, 
and  brought  one  turf  every  Monday  morning 
towards  the  heating  of  the  school. 

Education  opened  three  doors  to  young  men  like 
Patrick  Bronte  in  those  days.  He  might  have 
continued  a  teacher,  and  by  ability,  humility,  and 
patronage,  have  risen  in  time  to  command  a  salary 
of  £30  or  £4.0  per  annum ;  or  he  might  with 
great  perseverance,  spending  years  as  a  chemist's 
assistant,  have  worked  through  a  medical  curriculum 
and  obtained  an  easy  M.D.  at  Glasgow  University  ; 
or  he  might,  regardless  of  the  limitations  of  human 


LEARNING  AND   TEACHING  245 

life,  have  entered  on  a  course  of  eight  years' 
study,  with  a  view  to  becoming  a  minister  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church. 

Mr.  Harshaw,  as  a  Presbyterian  minister,  might 
have  been  expected  to  guide  the  youth  to  the  gate 
from  which  he  himself  had  emerged,  trailing  clouds 
of  glory  ;  but  he  was  an  honest  man,  and  he  did 
not.  He  knew  that  Bronte  was  a  youth  of  ability, 
and  of  enthusiastic  temperament ;  but  he  knew  that 
the  Presbyterian  Church  demanded  graces  as  well 
as  gifts  in  her  ministers,  and  had  testing  ques- 
tions on  the  subject,  and  he  did  not  believe  that 
Bronte's  spiritual  nature  had  ever  been  kindled  or 
quickened.  He  therefore  advised  him  to  choose 
as  a  profession  the  Episcopal  ministry. 

Those  were  the  days  of  moderatism  and  frigid 
formalism  in  the  Irish  Episcopal  Church.  The 
clergy  had  to  maintain  the  status  and  perform 
the  duties  of  country  gentlemen.  They  had  little 
sympathy  with  the  people,  and  when  they  read 
their  little  homilies  to  their  flocks  the  hungry 
sheep  looked  up  and  were  not  fed. 

There  were  in  the  ranks  of  the  Irish  clergy,  even 
in  those  days  of  spiritual  death,  noble  Christian 
ministers,  who  did  not  neglect  the  poor  to  pay 
court  to  the  rich  ;  but  such  men  were  a  small 
minority.  The  duties  of  the  holy  office  were  not 
supposed  to  stand  in  the  way  of  a  man  who  wished 
to  devote  himself  to  business  pursuits  or  to  amuse- 


246  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

ments,  or  even  to  the  common  dissipations  of  the 
rich,  so  long  as  they  did  not  lead  to  open  scandal. 

With  many  brilliant  exceptions,  the  Episcopal 
ministry  was  largely  recruited,  in  the  north  of 
Ireland,  from  men  who  had  found  the  way  into  the 
Presbyterian  ministry  too  long,  and  the  gate  too 
narrow.  The  Episcopal  Church  was  an  open  haven 
for  those  who  had  failed  in  their  examinations, 
either  at  the  hands  of  the  Presbytery  or  of  the 
University.  And  many  a  young  man  in  a  hurry 
had  reason  to  thank  the  strict  old  Presbyterian 
minister  who  stuck  him  in  his  examination  for  not 
knowing  something  about  Moses  and  Peter. 

The  pluckt  youth  disappeared,  but  after  an 
absence  of  about  three  years  reappeared  in  the 
neighbouring  parish  in  all  the  latest  feathers  of  his 
profession,  and  remained  a  country  gentleman  and 
magistrate,  the  finest  social  figure  in  the  district, 
except  the  land  agent.  A  change  for  the  better 
has  taken  place,  arid  the  minister  of  the  Disestab- 
lished Episcopalian  Church  in  Ireland  would  now 
compare  favourably  in  gifts,  graces,  scholarship, 
and  effectiveness  with  the  ministers  of  any  Church 
in  the  kingdom. 

Harshaw,  during  his  long  undergraduate  course, 
had  had  to  fight  his  upward  way  unaided.  He  had 
spent  several  years  as  a  tutor  in  England,  and  he 
strongly  advised  his  brilliant  pupil  to  seek  orders 
in  the  Church  of  England.  A  college  course  of 


LEARNING  AND   TEACHING  247 

three  or  four  years,  instead  of  eight,  would 
suffice. 

He  assured  him  that  he  would  find  the  English 
a  fair-minded  people,  who  would  value  him  for  his 
work  ;  and  that  as  a  clergyman  he  would  have 
plenty  of  honest  work  to  do  in  teaching  and 
preaching  and  visiting,  as  well  as  plenty  of  honest 
leisure  for  self-improvement  and  the  authorship 
to  which  he  looked  forward.  Above  all,  he  would 
escape  for  ever  from  the  cry  of  "  Mongrel "  and 
"  Papish  Pat "  that  every  Protestant  urchin  shouted 
after  him  on  account  of  his  mother's  maiden 
religion. 

Perhaps,  indeed,  the  circumstance  that  more  than 
any  other  determined  Bronte  to  seek  an  asylum  in 
England  was  the  fact  that  his  beautiful  and  loving 
mother  had,  when  a  girl,  belonged  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church,  and  the  odium  attaching  to  the 
circumstance  could  never,  among  a  bigoted  people, 
be  lived  down,  since  the  fact  could  not  be  altered. 

The  mixed  character  of  Patrick  Bronte's  origin 
was  a  fact  kept  well  before  his  mind  every  day  of 
his  life  in  Ireland  by  the  youths  with  whom  he 
mingled.  At  first  the  insult  led  to  battles,  but  his 
assailants  were  numerous,  and  brave  in  proportion 
to  the  superiority  of  their  numbers,  and  a  man 
with  "  black  papish  blood  "  in  him  was  a  common 
enemy. 

Bronte  seldom  emerged  from  the  strife  victorious, 


-248  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

and  so  he  schooled  himself  to  bear  the  stinging 
gibes  and  bigoted  insolence  in  sullen  silence  ;  and 
sometimes,  as  in  the  Glascar  school,  he  made 
friends  even  of  his  enemies. 

Bronte's  speculations  as  to  his  future  career 
gave  wings  to  his  imagination  and  spurred  him  in 
his  studies,  and  after  three  years'  close  application 
he  had  mastered  all  the  classical  and  mathematical 
books  in  Harshaw's  library.  He  continued  to 
teach  the  school  with  great  zeal,  and  to  read  and 
re-read  all  the  ancient  and  modern  literature  he 
could  lay  his  hands  on. 

About  this  period  he  made  the  acquaintance  of 
the  Rev.  David  Barber,  Presbyterian  minister  of 
Rathfriland,  and  from  him  he  was  able  to  borrow 
such  books  as  Spenser's  Faerie  Queene,  the  Spec- 
tator, Hume's  History  of  England,  and,  above  all, 
Shakespeare's  works.  To  a  youth  like  Bronte  these 
volumes  brought  great  joy. 

At  Glascar  school  it  was  not  "all  work  and  no 
play."  The  master  led  his  pupils,  two  and  two,  on 
Saturdays  to  visit  the  different  places  of  interest 
in  the  neighbourhood,  and  on  those  expeditions  he 
tried  to  make  them  see  the  beauty  of  the  landscape. 
He  would  stop  them  on  the  way,  and  draw  their 
attention  to  the  lights  and  shadows  chasing  each 
other  over  the  fields,  to  the  curves  of  hills  and 
mountains,  to  the  different  ways  in  which  birds 
flew,  and  to  the  hidden  beauties  of  the  common 


LEARNING  AND   TEACHING  249 

flowers  that  bloomed  by  the  waysides.  Some  of 
the  pupils  said  he  was  mad,  but  others  received 
sight  to  discern  the  unnoticed  beauties  of  the 
things  that  lay  around  them. 

During  the  summer  holidays  he  organised  more 
ambitious  expeditions.  On  several  occasions  he 
led  the  older  boys  and  some  of  their  elder  brothers 
to  explore  the  Mourne  Mountains.  On  one  of 
those  trips  the  party  got  separated  on  Slieve 
Donnard,  and  a  thick  mist  having  overspread  the 
mountain  the  explorers  lost  their  way  ;  and  as  they 
did  not  return  home  at  the  appointed  time,  much 
alarm  was  caused  to  their  families. 

It  was  several  days  before  they  all  reached  home, 
footsore  and  exhausted,  but  rich  with  romantic 
stories  of  hairbreadth  escapes  and  thrilling  adven- 
tures, which  served  as  travellers'  tales  for  the 
remainder  of  their  lives. 

Skating  expeditions  to  Loughorne  and  Lough- 
brickland  gave  scope  for  daring  feats  and  startling 
adventures.  On  one  occasion  the  water  had 
been  drawn  off  from  the  lough,  and  when  the 
party  were  in  the  middle  of  it,  and  far  from  land, 
the  ice  broke  with  a  roar  like  thunder  ;  but  Bronte 
kept  cool,  and  steered  his  whole  party  safe  to  the 
shore. 

While  teaching  in  Glascar  Bronte  blossomed 
into  poetry.  Most  of  the  pieces  published  in  1811 
among  his  Cottage  Poems  were  written  in  Glascar. 


250  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

One  of  them,  which  referred  to  the  adventure  on 
the  Mourne  Mountains,  was  learnt  and  recited  in 
the  school,  and  gained  for  the  author  a  great  name 
as  a  poet.  Some  of  the  lines,  which  are  probably 
still  remembered  in  the  neighbourhood,  ran  as 
follows  : — 

"  Escaped  from  the  pitiless  storm, 

I  entered  the  humble  retreat ; 
Compact  was  the  building  and  warm, 

In  furniture  simple  and  neat. 
And  now,  gentle  reader,  approve 

The  ardour  that  glowed  in  each  breast, 
As  kindly  our  cottagers  strove 

To  cherish  and  welcome  their  guest." 

"  The  Irish  Cabin,"  which  also  appeared  in 
Cottage  Poems,  was  very  popular,  and  much  recited 
by  the  pupils  and  their  friends  ;  and  there  were 
other  poems,  such  as  "  The  Cottage  Maid "  and 
"  The  Happy  Cottager,"  which  were  copied  out  by 
the  scholars  from  Bronte's  manuscript  and  learned 
by  heart. 

In  those  days  the  young  master  was  a  most 
voluminous  poet,  and  I  have  little  doubt  that  most 
of  the  pieces  which  were  published  in  1811  took 
form  in  Glascar  about  1 797,  and  were  touched  up 
in  after-years  in  England  for  publication. 

The  Cottage  Poems  have  recently  been  subjected 
to  severe  criticism  ;  but  it  should  be  remembered 
that  they  were  really  the  work  of  a  weaver  lad, 
who  was  just  then  awakening  to  the  pleasures  of 


LEARNING  AND   TEACHING  251 

literature,  and  that  they  were  written  for  the  children 
of  farmers  and  labourers  in  a  poor  country  school. 

Besides,  the  poems  published  are  only  such  as  a 
prudent  clergyman  should  have  given  to  the  world. 
They  were  pure  in  sentiment,  kindly  in  tone,  flowing 
in  rhyme,  and  contained  nothing  extreme  that  could 
have  startled  a  patron.  But  Bronte  left  out  other 
poems  in  which  his  distinctive  genius  had  had  full 
scope.  Such  pieces  as  "  The  Devil  in  the  Glen," 
"  The  Emigrant's  Lament,"  and  "  Kitty's  Revenge  " 
were  charged  with  Bronte  passion,  and  were  not 
lacking  in  poetic  fire. 

He  had,  however,  eaten  the  bread  of  a  sizar  at 
Cambridge  ;  he  had  taken  his  full  share  of  the 
duties  and  recreations  that  make  up  University 
life  ;  he  had  got  his  foot  on  the  ladder  of  pro- 
motion, and  his  eyes  on  the  dispensers  of  livings ; 
and  so  he  published  in  1811  his  weak  moral 
musings,  and  kept  back  the  fierce  and  fiery  shrieks 
of  his  newly  awakened  genius. 

Moreover,  Bronte  had  come  to  know  the  English 
people,  and  he  had  found  them  fair  and  just,  and 
his  temper  had  lost  the  hot  fire  and  keen  edge 
which  oppressing  circumstances  had  given  it.  Like 
many  another  Irish  Samson,  the  locks  of  his  strength 
were  shorn  in  the  lap  of  the  English  Delilah  ;  or 
rather,  the  old  neglected  truth  had  another  illustra- 
tion in  the  case  of  Bronte — namely,  that  kindness 
and  courtesy  breed  love  and  gentleness. 


252 


THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 


I  have  hesitated  as  to  whether  I  should  give  a 
characteristic  specimen  of  Patrick  Bronte's  ferocious 
poetry,  and  I  here  with  some  reluctance  insert  his 
"  Vision  of  Hell,"  written  in  Glascar.  I  feel  that 
I  must  at  least  give  one  sample,  if  the  readers  of 
this  book  are  to  have  full  material  for  coming  to  a 
correct  judgment  as  to  the  Bronte  genius,  and  the 
antecedent  influences  that  led  to  the  production  of 
the  Bronte  novels,  especially  of  Wuthering  Heights. 

"VISION   OF   HELL. 

"AT  midnight,  alone,  in  the  lonely  dell, 
Through  a  rent  I  beheld  the  court  of  hell  ; 
I  stood  struck  dumb  by  the  horrid  spell 
Of  the  tide  of  wailing  that  rose  and  fell. 

"The  devil  sat  squat  on  a  fine-winged  throne  ; 
Before  him  in  ranks  lay  his  victims  prone  ; 
In  anguish  they  praised  him  with  sullen  groan, 
Like  an  ocean  that  never  ceased  to  moan. 

"  At  a  signal  they  sprang  from  their  burning  bed, 
And  through  sulphurous  flames,  by  devils  led, 
In  mazy  dances  they  onward  sped, 
As  they  followed  the  devils  who  danced  ahead. 

"  '  Enough  ! '  yelled  the  fiend  from  the  fire-winged  throne, 
'  Of  posture-praise  from  my  subjects  prone, 
Of  torture,  shrieks,  and  of  sullen  moan, 
Of  mazy  dances  and  stifled  groan. 

"  '  Each  to  his  post  in  my  burnished  state. 
Ye  clergy,  who  fed  the  fires  of  hate, 
Neglected  the  poor,  and  cringed  to  the  great, 
Ye  shall  roast  in  honour  within  my  grate. 


LEARNING  AND   TEACHING  253 

"  '  I  dread  no  foe  but  the  Christ  of  God  ; 
Through  you,  His  clergy,  I  feared  His  rod  ; 
But  you  took  His  pay  and  obeyed  my  nod, 
And  you  drove  the  poor  from  their  native  sod. 

"  '  Ye  landlords  can  only  have  second  place, 
In  devilish  deeds  ye  were  first  in  the  race  ; 
But  no  treason  to  Christ  mixed  with  your  disgrace, 
Ye  were  mine  from  the  first,  and  in  every  place. 

"  '  Attorneys  and  agents,  I  love  you  well, 
But  you  throng  with  your  numbers  the  courts  of  hell ; 
Bastard-bearers  and  bailiffs  need  place  as  well, 
For  their  hellish  deeds  no  tongue  can  tell.' 

"  The  clergy  aloft  on  a  burning  floor 
Sat  slaking  their  thirst  with  bastards'  gore,* 
And  gnawing  the  bones  of  the  murdered  poor, 
The  evicted  who  died  on  the  silent  moor. 

"  The  landlords  were  penned  in  a  fiery  fold, 
And  drank  from  a  furnace  of  molten  gold 
The  rent  they  had  wrung  from  their  tenants  of  old, 
Who  had  laboured  and  died  in  hunger  and  cold. 


*  This  refers  to  the  fact  that  taxes  were  levied  by  the  clergy 
and  their  Church  officers  for  the  transport  of  illegitimate 
children  to  the  foundling  hospital  in  Dublin.  The  "bastard- 
bearers  "  were  vile  creatures  who  pocketed  their  pay,  and 
dropped  their  burdens  into  bog-holes.  Bog  water  has  astrin- 
gent qualities  that  prevent  decay,  and  the  remains  of 
infants  were  very  often  dug  up  in  bogs  by  turf-cutters.  The 
vestry  minutes  of  Drumballyroney  Church  show  that  the  tax 
was  still  levied  on  the  people  at  the  time  that  Patrick  Bronte 
taught  there.  The  deportation  of  illegitimate  children  was 
almost  a  wholesale  system  of  murder,  and  Patrick  Bronte  in 
his  early  years  laid  the  blame  at  the  door  of  those  who  levied 
the  tax  and  superintended  the  system.  The  poem,  which  was 
much  longer,  was  written  about  1796  or  1797. 


254  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

"  And  the  men  who  had  paid  for  love  by  lust, 
And  were  false  in  return  for  confiding  trust, 
In  a  slimy  pit  they  were  downward  thrust, 
Through  a  scum  that  was  foul  with  a  fetid  crust. 

***** 

"  And  a  cry  arose  like  the  thunder's  roar 
As  the  devil  stood  forth  on  the  burning  floor, 
And  the  fiends  with  a  shout  stood  up  to  adore, 
And  the  earth-rent  closed  and  I  saw  no  more." 


Bronte's  teaching  in  Glascar  came  to  an  abrupt 
termination  in  a  very  characteristic  manner.  There 
was  a  mature  maiden  in  the  school  with  hair  as  red 
as  his  own.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  substantial 
farmer  with  aristocratic  tendencies,  as  he  had  more 
acres  and  more  cattle  than  most  of  his  neighbours. 
Patrick,  as  "  the  master,"  had  always  been  welcome 
at  the  farmhouse.  The  girl  and  her  brothers  had 
been  allowed  to  remain  longer  than  usual  at  school 
at  his  special  request,  and  as  they  were  studying 
advanced  subjects  he  helped  them  in  the  evening 
with  their  lessons. 

One  afternoon,  on  approaching  the  farmer's 
house,  the  master  met  his  red-haired  pupil  among 
the  corn-stacks  and  kissed  her.  The  tender  incident 
was  observed  by  one  of  the  brothers,  who  imme- 
diately reported  the  result  of  his  observations  at 
headquarters.  War  was  instantly  declared  against 
the  "  mongrel  "  and  "  papish  brat  "  who  had  dared  to 
kiss  their  Helen.  The  allied  brothers  proceeded 
directly  to  chastise  Bronte ;  but  the  affair  became 


LEARNING  AND   TEACHING 


255 


complicated  by  the  fiery-headed  Helen,  teterrima 
causa  belli,  rushing  in  and  espousing  Bronte's  cause 
with  great  spirit  and  vigour. 

When  the  storm  of  battle  had  cleared  away,  it 
was  discovered  that  teacher  and  pupil  were  des- 


PRESBYTERIAN    MEETING    HOUSE,    WHERE    PATRICK    BRONTE 
WAS    PRECENTOR. 

perately  in  love  with  each  other,  and  that  opposition 
had  only  fanned  the  flame.  Helen's  pockets  and 
desk  were  found  to  be  full  of  Patrick's  amatory 
poetry,  and  both  claimed  the  right  to  act  as  they 
pleased.  It  was  understood  that  the  first  tender 
advances  had  been  on  the  lady's  part,  and  her  lover 


256  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

felt  bound  to  remain  loyal  to  her  so  long  as  she 
held  out 

There  were  many  versions  of  the  incident,  from 
which  it  would  be  difficult  to  weave  one  consistent 
narrative,  nor  is  it  a  matter  of  much  importance. 
One  thing  is  certain,  namely,  that  all  the  parties 
concerned  made  great  fools  of  themselves,  of  whom 
the  greatest  was  Patrick  Bronte. 

Helen's  father  was  an  important  officer  in  the 
Glascar  Presbyterian  Church,  to  which  a  young 
minister,  John  Rogers,  had  just  been  called.  The 
new  minister  was  wholly  unacquainted  with  Bronte, 
or  with  the  merits  of  the  difficulty  into  which  he 
had  got ;  but  on  the  representation  of  so  influential 
a  member  of  his  congregation  he  consented  to  the 
closing  of  the  school  and  the  dismissal  of  the  master. 
Thus  Patrick  Bronte,  by  his  own  folly,  found  himself 
without  employment  or  the  prospect  of  employment 
in  the  memorable  but  miserable  years  of  1797  and 
1798. 

Bronte  by  his  imprudence  had  not  only  lost  his 
situation  and  the  golden-haired  damsel ;  but  what 
was  even  more  serious,  he  had  lost  his  friend  and 
teacher. 

Mr.  Harshaw  was  a  sternly  just  man,  as  well 
as  thoroughly  unselfish.  He  upbraided  Bronte 
for  taking  advantage  of  his  position  to  gain  an 
unwarrantable  influence  over  one  of  his  pupils 
without  the  consent  or  knowledge  of  her  parents. 


LEARNING  AND  TEACHING  257 

Bronte  responded  with  indignant  anger  ;  in  fact, 
he  had  one  of  his  ungovernable  fits,  when  the  veins 
in  his  forehead  and  neck  seemed  ready  to  burst, 
and  teacher  and  pupil  parted  in  anger. 

For  a  year,  or  perhaps  less,  Bronte  worked  on 
his  Uncle  Paddy's  farm,  and  was  often  to  be  seen 
walking  up  and  down  the  Glen  with  a  book  in  his 
hand.  During  those  weary  days  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  meeting  Helen  clandestinely,  as  his  father 
used  to  meet  Alice  McClory  ;  but  Helen  differed 
widely  from  Alice.  She  soon  wearied  of  the 
derelict  schoolmaster  who  had  nothing  to  do  but 
loaf  about  Red  Paddy's  farm.  The  brilliant  student 
and  romantic  poet  was  a  very  different  lover  from 
the  unhappy  youth  without  prospects.  To  Helen's 
eyes  the  gold  had  gone  off  the  gingerbread  and  the 
romance  had  ceased  to  thrill,  and  so  she  became 
the  wife  of  an  honest  farmer,  and  the  mother  of  a 
numerous  fiery-headed  progeny. 

Bronte's  first  love  affair  having  come  to  an  end, 
he  went  back  to  his  old  and  true  friend  Harshaw. 
He  admitted  his  dishonourable  conduct,  apologised 
for  his  rudeness,  and  was  taken  once  more  into  his 
patron's  favour. 

Harshaw  immediately  set  to  work  to  secure  for 
his  pupil  another  situation.  The  parish  school  of 
Drumballyroney  was  then  vacant ;  but  it  was  known 
that  only  a  Churchman  would  have  any  chance  of 
being  elected  to  the  post.  The  appointment  was 


258 


THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 


in  the  hands  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Tighe,  the  rector. 
Harshaw  sought  an  interview  with  Mr.  Tighe,  and 
told  him  Patrick  Bronte's  history,  not  omitting  the 
love  scene  and  penitence.*  The  vicar  agreed  to  see 
Bronte,  and  the  interview  led  to  his  appointment 
as  teacher  at  a  higher  salary  than  he  had  had 
in  Glascar.  This  engagement  marked  another 
important  stage  in  the  career  of  Patrick  Bronte. 

*  I  purposely  abstain  from  giving  Helen's  family  name,  as 
the  almost  forgotten  story  might  give  pain.  Her  descendants 
are  among  the  most  respected  people  of  the  neighbourhood. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

PATRICK    BRONTE   IN    AN    EPISCOPALIAN    SCHOOL 

IT  was,  I  believe,  in  the  autumn  of  1798  that 
Patrick  Bronte  entered  on  his  duties  at  Drum- 
ballyroney.  The  school,  which  had  dwindled  almost 
to  extinction  under  the  previous  teacher,  revived 
and  flourished  under  Bronte's  care  and  energy. 

In  addition  to  the  day-school,  he  had  a  class  for 
private  tuition,  that  met  in  the  vicar's  drawing- 
room.  The  class  consisted  of  Mr.  Tighe's  children 
and  the  children  of  another  local  magnate.  The 
tuition  fees  added  to  Bronte's  salary  as  school- 
master amounted  to  a  sum  that  encouraged  him  to 
look  forward  once  more  to  a  University  career. 

I  have  heard  of  few  noteworthy  incidents  of 
Bronte's  life  while  acting  as  schoolmaster  in  Drum- 
ballyroney.  He  seems  to  have  been  so  happy  that 
he  manufactured  little  or  no  history.  If  he  were 
the  hero  of  any  very  heroic  or  tragic  exploits,  they 
have  never  been  recorded,  and  are  never  likely  to 
be  brought  to  light. 

One  little  affair  showed  the  metal  of  which  he 
259 


260  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

was  made.  He  was  leading  the  united  Sunday  and 
day-school  out  for  a  holiday's  amusement.  The 
bully  of  the  neighbourhood,  a  Roman  Catholic, 
stood  in  the  middle  of  a  narrow  path,  and  obliged 
the  children  to  go  down  into  a  muddy  ditch  to  get 
past  him. 

Patrick  was  coming  behind  with  Mr.  Tighe,  but 
on  observing  the  conduct  of  the  bully,  he  broke 
away  from  the  vicar  regardless  of  remonstrance, 
and,  seizing  the  offender  by  the  neck  and  leg,  flung 
him  down  the  hill  into  the  ditch  and  left  him 
there.  This  incident  formed  the  groundwork  of  the 
story  told  by  Charlotte  in  Shirley,  where  Helstone 
precipitated  a  similar  obnoxious  person  into  the 
ditch. 

Mr.  J.  A.  Erskine  Stuart  *  tells,  on  the  authority 
of  Mr.  Yates,  an  almost  similar  story  of  an  event 
that  took  place  on  Whit-Tuesday  1810  at  Earls- 
heaton.  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  the  simple 
and  sudden  collision  in  Drumballyroney  was  the 
genuine  original  of  all  the  later  versions. 

The  Rev.  Thomas  Tighe  was  the  vicar  of  the 
united  parishes  of  Drumballyroney  and  Drum- 
gooland  for  forty-three  years.  He  seems  to  have 
found  Bronte  useful  in  the  parish  school  as  well 
as  in  his  own  family,  and  it  is  exceedingly  likely 

*  Mr.  J.  A.  Erskine  Stuart  was  the  first  to  challenge  the 
groundless  assertion  that  Patrick  Bronte  on  coming  to  England 
changed  his  name  from  Prunty  to  Bronte. 


PA  TRICK  BRONTE  IN  AN  EPISCOPALIAN  SCHOOL  261 

that  he  employed  the  handsome  and  brilliant  youth 
in  many  ways  in  the  two  large  parishes. 

In  a  busy  life  Bronte  would  have  less  leisure  for 
cultivating  the  romantic  side  of  his  character,  and 
fewer  opportunities  for  coming  into  collision  with 
the  stubborn  conventionalities  of  the  district.  But 
though  we  have  little  positive  personal  information 
regarding  Bronte  at  Drumballyroney,  we  have 
very  full  information  regarding  the  parish  and  the 
period  of  his  sojourn  in  it  in  the  volume  of  minutes 
discovered  by  Mr.  Lett. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

PATRICK   BRONTE   AT   ST.   JOHN'S,   CAMBRIDGE 

FROM  a  glance  at  the  minutes  kept  by  Rector 
Tighe,  it  is  clear  that  he  was  a  vigorous 
administrator  at  a  time  when  vigour  was  needed, 
and  that  he  was  an  educationalist  when  education 
was  at  a  low  ebb.  Having  found  Patrick  Bronte 
an  enthusiastic  and  excellent  teacher,  he  not  only 
appreciated  his  services,  but  guided  him  in  his 
efforts  to  obtain  a  University  education  for  himself. 
There  is  no  ground  for  assuming,  as  has  been 
done,  that  Bronte  received  pecuniary  assistance 
from  Mr.  Tighe  to  enable  him  to  enter  the  Uni- 
versity. He  had  a  good  salary  as  school  teacher, 
and  to  this  was  added  a  considerable  sum  as  tuition 
fees.  Like  many  other  Irish  students  who  taught 
during  the  summer  months  and  studied  at  the 
University  during  the  winter,  he  would  save  every 
penny  he  received  beyond  what  was  absolutely 
necessary  for  his  support,  and  after  three  years  in 
Drumballyroney  he  would  have  saved  from  ^100 
to  ^130,  a  sum  amply  sufficient  to  launch  him 
fairly  at  St.  John's. 

262 


PATRICK  BRONTE  AT  ST.  JOHN'S,  CAMBRIDGE    263 

Mr.  Tighe  doubtless  gave  him  full  information 
as  to  the  exhibitions  and  bursaries  at  St.  John's, 
and  the  steps  to  be  taken  by  him  as  a  candidate 
for  honours  ;  and  such  important  information 
would  be  all  that  the  youth  required.  He  spent 
all  his  spare  time  in  study,  and  on  Saturdays  he 
reviewed  all  the  week's  work  with  his  old  and  true 


PATRICK    BRONTE  S    MATRICULATION    SIGNATURE. 

friend  Harshaw.  Indeed,  Harshaw  had  been  his 
only  teacher  up  to  the  time  he  reached  the  Cam- 
bridge University. 

Patrick  Bronte  entered  St.  John's  College, 
Cambridge,  on  the  ist  of  October,  1802,  and  com- 
menced residence  on  the  fourth  day  of  the  same 
month.  In  the  following  February,  1803,  four 


264  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

months  after  entering  the  College,  he  obtained  one 
of  the  Hare  Exhibitions,  which  he  continued  to 
hold  till  March  1806. 

These  exhibitions  had  been  founded  by  Sir 
Ralph  Hare  "  for  thirty  of  the  poorest  and  best- 
disposed  scholars  "  ;  but,  notwithstanding  the  terms 
of  the  trust,  the  paramount  consideration  was 
scholarship,  then  as  now,  in  awarding  the  prizes. 

The  Duchess  of  Suffolk  had  also  left  a  sum  to 
St.  John's,  to  establish  exhibitions  for  four  poor 
scholars.  At  Christmas  1803  Bronte  won  one  of 
these,  and  continued  on  the  foundation  as  Duchess 
of  Suffolk  exhibitioner  till  Christmas  1807.  Be- 
sides these,  he  von  and  held  the  Goodman  Exhi- 
bition for  one  year  from  1805. 

Bronte's  savings  were  ample  to  carry  him  over 
his  first  few  months  at  Cambridge,  and  the  Hare, 
Suffolk,  and  Goodman  Exhibitions  were  quite  suffi- 
cient afterwards  for  all  his  wants  as  a  student.  His 
friends  at  home,  however,  understood  that  he  was 
living  at  college  by  coaching  other  students,  and 
it  was  doubtless  from  the  money  earned  by  teach- 
ing that  he  forwarded  the  sum  of  £20  to  his 
mother  every  year.  Indeed,  his  first  letter  to  his 
mother  from  Cambridge  announcing  his  admission 
to  St.  John's  contained  a  half-sovereign  under  the 
seal,  and  during  her  life  he  never  failed  to  write 
regularly  to  her,  both  while  he  was  at  Cambridge 
and  afterwards,  and,  whatever  his  circumstances 


PATRICK  BRONTE  AT  ST.  JOHN'S,  CAMBRIDGE    265 

may  have  been,  she  always  had  her  £20  regularly. 
It  is  interesting  to  see  the  weaver  boy  of  Bally- 
naskeagh,  who  never  received  a  lesson  except  from 
the  Rev.  Andrew  Harshaw  of  Ballynafern,  carry- 
ing off  prizes  for  proficiency  at  Cambridge,  and 
instructing  others  whose  advantages  must  have 
been  a  thousand  times  superior  to  his  own. 

The  educational  arena  is  a  great  leveller  of  arti- 
ficial and  accidental  distinctions.  The  name  pre- 
ceding Bronte's  in  the  admission  register  is  that 
of  John  Prettyman,  son  of  the  Venerable  Arch- 
deacon Dr.  John  Prettyman  of  Lincoln,  and  the 
name  that  follows  Bronte's  is  that  of  Charles 
Sampson  of  Middlesex.  Bronte's  tutor  was  James 
Wood,  who  afterwards  became  master  of  St.  John's. 
As  the  handsome  youth  and  distinguished  scholar 
drilled  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  his  countryman, 
Lord  Palmerston,  and  with  the  late  Duke  of  Devon- 
shire, few  could  have  suspected  his  humble  origin 
in  Emdale,  or  the  titanic  struggle  by  which  he  had 
gained  a  foothold  at  the  University. 

Mr.  R.  T.  Scott,  the  registrar  of  St.  John's,  has 
most  kindly  furnished  me  with  all  the  information 
at  his  disposal.  From  the  Term  Register  we  learn 
that  Patrick  Bronte  commenced  residence  on  the 
4th  of  October,  1802;  kept  the  succeeding  eleven 
University  terms;  took  the  B.A.  degree  the  23rd  of 
April,  1806 ;  and  that  his  name  was  removed  from 
the  boards  the  26th  of  May,  1808. 


266 


THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 


Mr.  J.  Willis  Clarke,  the  registrar  of  the  Uni- 
versity, has  furnished  me  with  photographs  of 
Bronte's  matriculation  and  graduation  signatures. 
The  first  was  evidently  written  by  the  registrar,  as 


; 


PATRICK  BRONTE'S  SIGNATURE  ON  PROCEEDING  TO  HIS  DEGREE. 

it  is  in  the  same  handwriting  as  the  three  signa- 
tures that  precede  it.  The  second  is  Bronte's  own 
writing,  and  I  reproduce  here  the  photograph  of 
the  page  which  contains  it. 


PATRICK  BRONTE  AT  ST.  JOHN'S,  CAMBRIDGE    267 

Patrick  Bronte's  footsteps  have  been  so  carefully 
traced,  and  his  movements  so  fully  accounted  for, 
throughout  the  ecclesiastical  by-ways  of  England, 
that  I  need  not  follow  him  beyond  the  walls  of  the 
University.*  The  ardent  student  was  eclipsed  in 
the  country  parson,  but  again  appeared  in  the 
reflected  light  of  his  daughters. 

*  It  has  been  persistently  affirmed  that  Patrick  Bronte 
ceased  to  visit  his  Irish  home  after  he  went  to  England ;  but, 
as  I  have  already  shown,  the  assertion  is  absolutely  ground- 
less. He  was  a  visitor  not  only  on  holiday  occasions,  but  in 
times  of  trouble.  The  only  time  I  ever  saw  him  was  on  one 
of  his  visits. 

He  preached  one  of  his  first  sermons  to  his  old  friends 
and  neighbours,  in  Ballyroney  Church.  His  youngest  sister, 
Alice,  told  the  Rev.  J.  B.  Lusk  of  that  sermon  in  the  follow- 
ing words  at  their  last  interview  :  "  Patrick  came  home  after 
lie  was  ordained,  and  preached  in  Ballyroney.  All  our  friends 
and  neighbours  were  there,  and  the  church  was  very  full. 
.  .  .  He  preached  a  gran'  sermon,  and  never  had  anything 
in  his  han'  the  whole  time  "  (i.e.,  he  had  no  manuscript). 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

THE   IRISH   BRONTES   AND   "JANE   EYRE" 

THE  Bronte  novels  were  first  read  and  admired 
in  the  Ballynaskeagh  manse.  This  statement 
I  am  able  to  make  with  fulness  of  knowledge.  Jane 
Eyre  was  read,  cried  over,  laughed  over,  argued 
over,  condemned  to  the  lowest  depths,  exalted 
to  the  loftiest  heights,  by  the  Rev.  David  McKee 
and  his  brilliant  children  and  numerous  pupils, 
before  the  author  was  known  publicly  in  England, 
or  a  single  review  of  the  work  had  appeared. 

Were  I  not  able  definitely  to  settle  this  question 
now,  the  future  historian  would  arrive  at  a  very 
different  conclusion.  And  I  am  myself  able  to 
submit  documentary  evidence  which  seems  to  prove 
in  the  most  decisive  manner  the  very  opposite  of 
what  I  have  asserted.  I  have  now  in  my  possession 
a  copy  of  the  fourth  edition  of  Jane  Eyre,  presented 
by  Charlotte  Bronte's  father  to  Hugh,  his  eldest 
brother,  apparently  in  the  firm  belief  that  the  Irish 
Brontes  had  never  seen  the  book. 

The  volume,  which  is  considerably  worn,  contains 
an  inscription  worth  quoting  for  many  reasons.  It 

268 


THE  IRISH  BRONTES  AND   "JANE  EYRE"      269 


is  a  memorandum  in  Patrick's  hand,  and  it  refutes 
the  calumny  that  he  forgot  the  old  home  after 
settling  in  England.  It  also  reveals  the  price  that 
Charlotte  got  for  the  copyright  of  her  three  novels  ; 
but  it  assumes  that  the  uncles  and  aunts  of  the 
novelist  had  never  seen  the  first  editions  of  their 


£^SS*r*fc?  ^  ?&#*> 

-^%^^^5^  ^T 

.y      y  X*.  ^ti-^t*      t-^'^X       r  .y     X_*_— «    -         Z^^ 


PATRICK    TO    HUGH    REGARDING    THE    PRICE    PAID    FOR   THE    NOVELS. 

niece's  works.  The  memorandum,  which  is  written 
on  the  page  over  the  "  note  to  the  third  edition," 
is  as  follows  : — 

"To  Mr.  Hugh  Bronte,  Ballynaskeagh,  near 
Rathfriland,  Ireland. — This  is  the  first  work  pub- 
lished by  my  daughter,  under  the  fictitious  name 
of  '  Currer  Bell,'  which  is  the  usual  way  at  first  by 
authors,  but  her  real  name  is  everywhere  known. 


270  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

She  sold  the  copyright  of  this  and  her  other  two 
works  for  fifteen  hundred  pounds  ;  so  that  she  has 
to  pay  for  the  books  she  gets,  the  same  as  others. 
Her  other  two  books  are  in  six  volumes,  and  would 
cost  nearly  four  pounds.  This  was  formerly  in 
three  volumes.  In  two  years  hence,  when  all 
shall  be  published  in  a  cheaper  form,  if  all  be  well, 
I  may  send  them.  You  can  let  my  brothers  and 
sisters  read  this. 

"  P.  BRONTE,  A.B., 
"  Incumbent  of  Haworth,  near  Keighley. 

"Jan.  20th,  1853." 

At  the  time  when  Patrick  Bronte  sent  to  his  old 
home  the  copy  of  the  fourth  edition  of  Jane  Eyre, 
the  Irish  Brontes  were  already  in  full  possession 
of  the  first  editions  of  Charlotte's  three  novels.  I 
have  in  my  possession  the  copies  of  the  three- 
volume  first  editions  of  Shirley  and  Villette,  which 
they  had  in  hand,  and  I  distinctly  remember  the 
three  volumes  of  the  first  edition  of  Jane  Eyre, 
which  I  fear  is  now  lost. 

The  explanation  of  this  seeming  difficulty  is 
simple  enough.  In  addition  to  the  ^"500*  that 

*  It  has  been  often  said  that  Smith,  Elder,  &  Co.  paid  a 
small  annuity  to  the  last  of  the  Bronte  aunts ;  but  this  is  not 
correct.  An  annuity  of  £20  per  annum  was  granted  by 
the  Trustees  of  Pargeter's  Charity  on  the  representation  of 
one  of  the  Trustees,  the  Rev.  D.  Maginnis.  The  grant  was 
made  to  Alice  in  March  1882,  and  lapsed  with  the  death  of 
the  annuitant  on  the  i$th  of  January,  1891. 


THE  IRISH  BRONTES   AND   "JANE  EYRE"      271 

Smith,  Elder,  &  Co.  paid  Charlotte  Bronte  for  the 
copyright  of  each  of  her  novels,  they  would,  as  the 
custom  is,  allow  her  a  number  of  copies  for  friends. 
They  sent  half  a  dozen  copies  direct  to  herself  at 
first.  The  book  was  published  on  the  i6th  of 
October,  and  ten  days  later  Charlotte  acknow- 
ledged receipt  of  the  copies  in  the  following 
letter  :— 

"  Oct.  26th,  1847. 
"  Messrs.  Smith,  Elder,  &  Co. 
"  Gentlemen, — 

"  The  six  copies  of  Jane  Eyre  reached 
me  this  morning.  You  have  given  the  work  every 
advantage  which  good  paper,  clear  type,  and  a 
seemly  outside  can  supply  ;  if  it  fails,  the  fault  will 
lie  with  the  author — you  are  exempt.  I  now  await 
the  judgment  of  the  press  and  the  public. 
"  I  am,  gentlemen, 

"  Yours  respectfully, 

"C.  BELL." 

Charlotte  Bronte's  friends  were  not  numerous, 
and  she  was  most  anxious  that  none  of  the  few 
should  find  out  that  she  was  the  author.  In  the 
distribution  of  even  her  six  copies  she  would 
certainly  send  one  to  her  friends  in  Ireland.  Her 
father  would  be  in  absolute  ignorance  of  the 
transaction,  for  though  he  wrote  home  regularly 
his  brothers  seldom  wrote  to  him  ;  and  hence  the 


272  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

presentation  of  the  copy  of  the  cheap  fourth  edition, 
preserving  to  us  the  very  precious  inscription. 

When  the  volumes  arrived  in  Ireland  there  was 
no  room  for  doubt  as  to  the  authorship  of  Jane  Eyre. 
The  Brontes  had  no  other  friend  in  England  to 
send  them  books  ;  and  even  their  friends  would  not 
have  sent  them  great  bulky  expensive  novels  unless 
they  were  the  authors  of  them  themselves.  The 
Brontes  in  Ireland  neither  wrote  nor  read  romances. 
They  lived  them. 

It  was  well  known  to  the  family  that  the  clever 
brother  in  England  had  very  clever  daughters. 
Their  habits  of  study,  their  wonderful  composi- 
tions, their  education  in  Brussels,  were  steps  in  the 
ascending  gradation  of  the  girls,  minutely  com- 
municated by  the  vicar  to  his  only  relatives,  and 
fairly  well  understood  in  Ballynaskeagh.  Some- 
thing was  expected. 

That '  something  caused  blank  disappointment. 
C(urrer)  B(ell)  was  a  thin  disguise  for  C(harlotte) 
B(ronte) ;  but  it  did  not  deceive  the  relatives. 
Why  concealment,  if  there  were  nothing  dis- 
creditable to  conceal  ?  A  very  little  reading 
convinced  the  uncles  and  aunts  that  concealment 
was  necessary. 

The  book  was  not  good,  like  Willison's  Balm  of 
Gilead,  or  like  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress.  It 
was  neither  history  like  Goldsmith,  nor  biography 
like  Johnson,  nor  philosophy  like  Locke,  nor 


THE  IRISH  BRONTES  AND   "JANE  EYRE"     273 

theology  like  Edwards  ;  but  "  a  parcel  of  lies:  the 
fruit  of  living  among  foreigners." 

The  Irish  Brontes  had  never  seen  a  book  like 
Jane  Eyre  before — three  volumes  of  babble  that 
would  have  taken  a  whole  winter  to  read.  They 
laid  the  work  down  in  despair;  but  after  a  little 
Hugh  resolved  to  show  it  to  Mr.  McKee,  the  one 
man  in  the  whole  district  whom  he  could  trust. 

The  reputation  of  his  nieces  in  England  was 
dearer  to  Hugh  Bronte  than  his  own. 

He  tied  up  the  three  volumes  in  a  red  handker- 
chief, and  called  with  them  at  the  manse.  Contrary 
to  his  usual  custom,  he  asked  if  he  could  see  Mr. 
McKee  alone.  The  interview,  of  which  my  infor- 
mation came  from  an  eye-witness,  took  place  in  a 
large  parlour  which  contained  a  bed  and  a  central 
table,  on  which  Mr.  McKee's  tea  was  spread  out. 

Hugh  Bronte  began  in  a  low,  mysterious  whisper 
and  with  a  regretful  air  to  unfold  his  sad  tale  to  Mr. 
McKee,  as  if  his  niece  had  been  guilty  of  some 
serious  indiscretion.  Mr.  McKee  comforted  him 
by  suggesting  that  the  book  might  not  have  been 
written  by  his  niece  at  all.  At  this  point  Hugh 
Bronte  was  prevailed  upon  to  draw  up  to  the  table 
to  partake  of  the  abundant  tea  that  had  been 
prepared  for  Mr.  McKee,  while  the  latter  proceeded 
to  examine  the  book. 

Both  gentlemen  devoted  themselves  to  the  task 
in  hand.  Bronte  settled  down  in  the  most  self- 

18 


274  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

denying  manner  to  dispose  of  the  heap  of  bread 
and  butter  and  the  pot  of  tea,  while  Mr.  McKee 
went  galloping  over  the  pages  of  the  first  volume 
of  Jane  Eyre,  oblivious  of  everything  else  but  the 
fascinating  story. 

The  afternoon  wore  on,  and  Bronte  sat  still  at 
the  table,  watching  the  features  of  the  reader,  as 
they  changed  from  sombre  to  gay,  and  from  flinty 
fierceness  to  melting  pathos. 

When  the  servant  went  in  to  remove  the  tea- 
things  and  light  the  candles  both  men  were  sitting 
silent  in  the  gloaming.  Mr.  McKee,  roused  from 
his  state  of  abstraction,  observed  Bronte  sitting  by 
the  debris  and  empty  plates. 

"  Hughey,"  he  said,  breaking  the  silence,  "  the 
book  bears  the  Bronte  stamp  on  every  sentence 
and  idea,  and  it  is  the  grandest  novel  that  has 
been  produced  in  my  time  "  ;  and  then  he  added, 
"  The  child  Jane  Eyre  is  your  father  in  petticoats, 
and  Mrs.  Reed  is  the  wicked  uncle  by  the  Boyne." 

The  cloud  passed  from  Hugh  Bronte's  brow,  and 
the  apologetic  tone  from  his  voice.  He  started  up 
as  if  he  had  received  new  life,  wrung  Mr.  McKee's 
hand,  and  hurried  away  comforted,  to  comfort 
others.  Mr.  McKee  had  said  the  novel  was 
"  gran',"  and  that  was  enough  for  the  Irish  Brontes. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

THE  AVENGER  ON  THE  TRACK  OF  THE 
REVIEWER 

THERE  was  joy  in  the  Bronte  house  when 
Hugh  returned,  and  reported  to  his  brothers 
and  sisters  what  Mr.  McKee  had  said  about  Jane 
Eyre.  They  needed  no  further  commendation,  for 
they  knew  no  higher  court  of  appeal  on  such  a 
matter  ;  nor  was  there.  They  had  all  been  alarmed 
lest  Charlotte  had  done  something  to  be  ashamed 
of  ;  but  on  Mr.  McKee's  approval,  pride  and  elation 
of  spirit  succeeded  depression  and  sinking  of  heart  * 

*  The  Rev.  W.  J.  McCracken,  an  old  pupil  of  the  Bally- 
naskeagh  manse,  writes  me  on  this  point :  "  You  have  no 
doubt  often  heard  Mr.  McKee's  opinion  as  to  the  source  of 
Charlotte's  genius.  When  Charlotte  Bronte  published  one  of 
her  books,  there  was  always  an  early  copy  sent  to  the  uncles 
and  aunts  in  Ballynaskeagh.  As  they  had  little  taste  for  such 
literature,  the  book  was  sent  straight  over  to  our  dear  old 
friend  Mr.  McKee.  If  it  pleased  him,  the  Brontes  would  be 
in  raptures  with  their  niece,  and  triumphantly  say  to  their 
neighbours,  '  Mr.  McKee  thinks  her  very  diver.'  I  well 
remember  Mr.  McKee  reading  one  of  Charlotte's  novels,  and 
in  his  own  inimitable  way  making  the  remark,  'She  is  just 

275 


276  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Mr.  McKee's  opinion  of  Jane  Eyre  did  not  long 
remain  unconfirmed.  The  reviews  of  the  work 
which  appeared  in  English  magazines  were  quoted 
in  the  Newry  paper,  probably  sent  by  Mr.  McKee, 
and  found  their  way  quickly  into  the  uncles'  and 
aunts'  hands. 

The  publication  of  the  book  created  a  profound 
impression  generally.  It  was  felt  in  literary  circles 
that  a  strong  nature  had  broken  through  conven- 
tional restraints,  that  a  fresh  voice  had  delivered 
a  new  message.  Men  and  women  paused  in  the 
perusal  of  the  pretty,  the  artificial,  the  inane,  to 
listen  to  the  wild  story  that  had  come  to  them, 
with  the  breeze  of  the  moorland  and  the  bloom  of 
the  heather. 

The  tragic  pathos  of  human  passion,  working  out 
its  destiny  and  doom,  entranced  and  thrilled  the 

her  uncle  Jamie  over  the  world.     Just  Jamie's  strong,  power- 
ful direct  way  of  putting  a  thing.' " 

Mrs.  McKee,  writes  me  from  New  Zealand :  "  My 
husband  had  early  copies  of  the  novels  from  the  Brontes, 
and  he  pronounced  them  to  be  Bronte  in  warp  and  woof, 
before  '  Currer  Bell '  was  publicly  known  to  be  Charlotte 
Bronte.  He  held  that  the  stories  not  only  showed  the  Bronte 
genius  and  style,  but  that  the  facts  were  largely  reminiscences 
of  the  Bronte  family.  He  recognised  many  of  the  characters 
as  founded  largely  on  old  Hugh's  yarns  polished  into  literature. 
When  Jane  Eyre  came  into  the  hands  of  the  uncles,  they 
were  troubled  as  to  its  character ;  but  they  were  very  grateful 
to  my  husband  for  his  good  opinion  of  its  ability.  He  pro- 
nounced it  a  remarkable  and  brilliant  work  before  any  of  the 
reviews  appeared." 


AVENGER  ON  THE  TRACK  OF  REVIEWER     277 

English-reading  race.  The  self-evidencing  sim- 
plicity of  the  narrative  disarmed  incredulity,  and 
the  fit  proportion  maintained,  between  the  things 
said  and  the  manner  of  saying  them,  disenchanted 
prejudice  and  suspicion.  There  was  no  apparent 
art,  but  sincere  truth  ;  there  was  no  palpable  style, 
but  the  mechanism  of  nature.  The  vehement 
energy  and  tempestuous  frankness  were  as  real 
as  the  lightning  and  the  hurricane  ;  and  the  playful 
fancy  and  glowing  heart  brightened  and  warmed, 
like  the  sunlight  silvering  the  leaves  or  silently 
ripening  the  corn. 

The  tears  were  sad  and  joyless,  but  genuine  ;  the 
smiles  were  brimful  of  mirth.  Men  and  women 
saw  the  smiles  and  the  tears,  as  clearly  as  they  saw 
the  summer-lit  moor.  And  so  exquisite  was  the 
gift  of  thought  blended  with  the  art  of  artless 
expression,  that  only  the  facts  appeared  in  the 
transparent  narrative. 

With  a  few  memorable  exceptions,  the  favourable 
verdict  of  the  press  was  not  only  hearty  but 
enthusiastic. 

The  Timss  declared  Jane  Eyre  to  be  a  "  remarkable 
production.  .  .  .  Freshness  and  originality,  truth  and 
passion,  singular  felicity  in  the  description  of  natural 
scenery  and  in  the  analysation  of  human  thought, 
enable  this  tale  to  stand  boldly  out  from  the  mass, 
and  to  assume  its  own  place  in  the  bright  field  of 
romantic  literature." 


278  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

The  Edinburgh  Review  proceeded  as  follows  : 
"  For  many  years  there  has  been  no  work  of 
such  power,  piquancy,  and  originality.  .  .  .  From 
out  the  depths  of  a  sorrowing  experience, .  here  is 
a  voice  speaking  to  the  experience  of  thousands. 
It  is  a  book  of  singular  fascination." 

It  was  reviewed  in  Blackwood's  Magazine  thus  : 
"Jane  Eyre  is  an  episode  in  this  workaday 
world  ;  most  interesting,  and  touched  at  once  by 
a  daring  and  delicate  hand.  It  is  a  book  for  the 
enjoyment  of  a  feeling  heart  and  vigorous  under- 
standing." 

In  Frazers  Magazine  Mr.  G.  H.  Lewes  expressed 
his  verdict :  "  The  book  closed,  the  enchantment 
continues  ;  your  interest  does  not  cease.  Reality, 
deep,  significant  reality,  is  the  characteristic  of  the 
book.  It  is  autobiography — not  perhaps  in  the 
naked  facts  and  circumstances,  but  in  the  actual 
suffering  and  experience.  This  gives  the  book  its 
charm  :  it  is  soul  speaking  to  soul ;  it  is  utterance 
from  the  depths  of  a  struggling,  suffering,  much- 
enduring  spirit  ;  suspira  de  profundisT 

Taifs  Magazine  declared  :  "Jane  Eyre  has  already 
acquired  a  standard  renown.  The  earnest  tone,  deep 
fervour,  and  truthful  delineation  of  feeling  and  nature 
displayed  in  its  pages  must  render  it  a  general 
favourite." 

The  Examiner,  the  AtJienceum,  and  the  Literary 
Gazette  followed  in  the  same  strain  ;  while  the 


AVENGER   ON   THE   TRACK  OF  REVIEWER     279 

Daily  News  spoke  with  qualified  praise,  and  only 
the  Spectator,  according  to  Charlotte,  was  "  flat." 

The  club  coteries  paused,  and  the  literary  log- 
rollers  were  nonplussed,  and  Thackeray  sat  reading 
instead  of  writing. 

The  interest  in  the  story  was  intensified,  inas- 
much as  no  one  knew  whence  had  come  the  voice 
that  had  stirred  all  hearts,  or  the  hand  that  had 
led  them  out  to  see  heights  and  depths  in  lowly 
lives  undreamt  of  before. 

Nor  did  the  interest  diminish  when  the  mystery 
was  dispelled.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  much 
increased  when  it  became  known  that  the  author 
was  not  one  of  the  great  literary  fraternity,  who 
had  assumed  an  alias  to  escape  from  the  restraints 
of  custom  ;  but  a  little,  shy,  bright-eyed,  Yorkshire 
maiden  of  Irish  origin,  who  could  scarcely  reach 
up  to  great  Thackeray's  arm,  or  reply  unmoved  to 
his  simplest  remark. 

The  Irish  Brontes  read  the  reviews  of  their 
niece's  book  with  intense  delight.  To  the  uncles 
and  aunts  the  paeans  of  praise  were  successive 
whiffs  of  pure  incense.  They  had  never  doubted 
that  they  themselves  were  superior  to  their 
neighbours,  and  they  felt  quite  sure  that  their  niece 
Charlotte  was  superior  to  every  other  writer. 
The  praise  bestowed  upon  her  was  her  due,  and 
as  it  reflected  some  lustre  on  themselves  they 
treasured  it  in  their  hearts. 


28o  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

But  the  Brontes  were  not  content  to  enjoy 
silently  their  niece's  triumph  and  fame.  It  is 
difficult  to  carry  the  full  cup  with  steady  dignity. 
Their  hearts  were  full,  and  overflowed  from  the 
lips.  The  silent,  self-contained  Brontes  had  reached 
the  period  of  their  decadence,  and  as  they  had 
begun  to  imbibe  a  good  deal  of  whiskey  they  were 
often  heard  boasting  of  the  illustrious  Charlotte. 
Sometimes  even  they  would  read  to  uninterested 
and  unappreciative  listeners  scraps  of  praise  cut 
from  the  Newry  papers,  or  supplied  to  them  from 
English  sources  by  Mr.  McKee.  The  whole 
heaven  of  Bronte  fame  was  bright  and  cloudless  ; 
suddenly  the  proverbial  bolt  fell  from  the  blue. 

The  Quarterly  onslaught  on  Jane  Eyre  appeared, 
and  all  the  good  things  that  had  been  said  by  the 
other  great  magazines  were  forgotten.  The  news 
travelled  fast,  and  reached  Ballynaskeagh  almost 
immediately.  The  neighbours  who  cared  little  for 
what  the  Times,  Frazer,  Blackwood,  and  such 
periodicals  said  had  got  hold  of  the  Quarterly 
verdict  in  a  very  direct  and  simple  form.  The 
report  went  round  the  district  like  wild-fire,  and 
it  became  the  common  talk  that  the  Quarterly 
Review  had  said  Charlotte  Bronte,  the  vicar's 
daughter,  was  a  bad  woman,  and  an  outcast  from 
her  kind. 

The  neighbours  of  the  Brontes  had  very  vague 
ideas  as  to  what  the  Quarterly  might  be  ;  but  I  am 


AVENGER  ON   THE   TRACK  OF  REVIEWER     281 

afraid  the  one  bad  review  gave  them  more  piquant 
pleasure  than  all  the  good  ones  put  together. 
There  is  a  tendency  in  human  nature  to  resent  the 
sudden  rise  to  eminence  of  near  neighbours  and 
common  acquaintances.  That  they  have  reached 
fame  and  you  have  not  is  sufficient  proof  that  all 
is  not  as  it  should  be. 

In  the  changed  atmosphere  the  uncles  and  aunts 
assumed  their  old  unsocial  and  taciturn  ways. 
When  their  acquaintances  came,  with  simpering 
smiles,  to  sympathise  with  them,  their  gossip  was 
cut  short  by  the  Brontes,  who  judged  rightly  that 
the  sense  of  humiliation  pressed  lightly  on  their 
comforters. 

In  their  sore  distress  they  went  to  Mr.  McKee. 
He  was  able  to  show  them  the  review  itself.  The 
reviewer  had  been  speculating  on  the  sex  of  Currer 
Bell,  and,  for  effect,  assumed  that  the  author  was  a 
man  ;  but,  he  added,  "  whoever  it  be,  it  is  a  person 
who,  with  great  mental  power,  combines  a  total 
ignorance  of  the  habits  of  society,  a  great  coarse- 
ness of  taste,  and  a  heathenish  doctrine  of  religion. 
For  if  we  ascribe  the  work  to  a  woman  at  all,  we 
have  no  alternative  but  to  ascribe  it  to  one  who 
has,  for  some  sufficient  reason,  long  forfeited  the 
society  of  her  own  sex." 

Mr.  McKee's  reading  of  the  review  and  words  of 
comment  gave  no  comfort  to  the  Brontes.  I  am 
afraid  his  indignation  at  the  cowardly  attack  only 


282  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

served  to  fan  the  flame  of  their  wrath.  The  sun  of 
his  sympathy,  however,  touched  their  hearts,  and 
their  pent-up  passion  flowed  down  like  a  torrent  of 
lava. 

The  uncles  of  Charlotte  Bronte  always  expressed 
themselves,  when  roused,  in  language  which  com- 
bined simplicity  of  diction  with  depth  of  significance. 
Hugh  was  the  spokesman.  White  with  passion, 
the  words  hissing  from  his  lips,  he  vowed  to  take 
vengeance  on  the  traducer  of  his  niece.  The 
language  of  malediction  rushed  from  him,  hot  and 
pestiferous,  as  if  it  had  come  from  the  bottomless 
pit,  reeking  with  sulphur  and  brimstone. 

Mr.  McKee  did  not  attempt  to  stem  the  wrathful 
torrent.  He  hoped  that  the  storm  would  exhaust 
itself  by  its  own  fury  and  be  followed  by  a  calm,  or 
that  the  outburst  would  clear  away  the  dregs  of 
anger,  as  a  charge  of  gunpowder,  exploded  in  the 
flues  of  the  copper,  scatters  the  accumulated  soot. 

But  in  the  case  of  Hugh  Bronte  the  anger  was 
not  a  mere  thing  of  the  passing  storm.  The 
scoundrel  who  had  spoken  of  his  niece  as  if  she 
were  a  strumpet  must  die.  Hugh's  oath  was 
pledged,  and  he  meant  to  perform  it.  The  brothers 
recognised  the  work  of  vengeance  as  a  family  duty. 
Hugh  had  simply  taken  in  hand  its  execution  ;  and 
though  his  brothers  and  sisters  were  moody  and 
silent,  they  felt  that  the  Bronte  honour  was  safe  in 
the  hands  of  the  Avenger. 


AVENGER   ON   THE   TRACK  OF  REVIEWER     283 

Hugh  Bronte  set  about  his  preparation  with  the 
calm  deliberation  befitting  such  a  tremendous 
enterprise.  Like  Thothmes  the  Great,  his  first 
concern  was  with  regard  to  his  arms.  Irishmen 
at  that  time  had  one  national  weapon.  What  the 
blood  mare  is  to  the  Bedawi,  or  his  sling  was  to 
King  David,  that  was  the  shillelagh  to  Hugh 
Bronte  the  Avenger. 

Irishmen  have  since  proved  their  superiority  as 
marksmen  with  long-range  rifles,  and  they  have 
always  had  a  reputation  for  expertness  at  "  the 
long  bow  "  ;  but  the  blackthorn  cudgel  has  always 
been  the  hereditary  weapon  around  which  their 
affections  were  entwined,  and  at  the  touch  of  which 
their  courage  rose. 

The  shillelagh  was  not  a  mere  stick  picked  up  for 
a  few  pence,  or  cut  casually  out  of  the  common 
hedge.  Like  the  Arab  mare,  it  grew  up  to  maturity 
under  the  fostering  care  of  its  owner,  and  in  the 
hour  of  conflict  it  carried  him  to  victory. 

The  shillelagh,  like  the  poet,  is  born,  not  made  ; 
though,  like  the  poet,  it  is  developed  and  polished. 
Like  the  poet,  too,  it  is  a  choice  plant,  and  its  growth 
is  slow. 

Among  ten  thousand  blackthorn  shoots,  perhaps 
not  more  than  one  is  destined  to  become  famous  ; 
but  one  of  the  ten  thousand  appears  of  singular 
fitness  among  its  gnarled  companions.  As  soon 
as  discovered  it  is  marked  and  dedicated  for  future 


284  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

service.  Everything  that  might  hinder  its  well- 
balanced  development  is  removed  from  its  vicinity, 
and  any  offshoot  likely  to  detract  from  the  perfect 
growth  of  the  main  stem  is  skilfully  cut  off. 
With  constant  care  it  grows  thick  and  strong,  and 
the  bulbous  root  can  be  shaped  into  a  handle 
which  in  an  emergency  can  be  used  as  a  club. 

Hugh  Bronte  was  a  man  who  looked  before  and 
hastened  slowly.  In  early  life  he  planted  two  oak 
trees  by  the  edge  of  the  Glen  to  supply  wood  for  his 
coffin.  They  have  become  large  trees,  and  they 
were  pointed  out  to  me  by  the  nearest  neighbour, 
Mr.  Christopher  Radcliffe,  on  the  occasion  of  my 
last  visit  to  the  Bronte  Glen. 

Hugh  had  for  many  years  been  watching  over 
the  growth  of  a  young  blackthorn  sapling,  as  if  it 
had  been  an  only  child.  It  had  arrived  at  maturity 
about  the  time  the  diabolical  article  appeared  in 
the  Quarterly.  The  supreme  moment  of  his  life 
had  arrived,  and  the  weapon  on  which  he  depended 
was  ready. 

Hugh  Bronte  returned  home  from  the  manse 
with  his  whole  heart  and  soul  set  on  avenging  his 
niece.  His  first  act  was  to  dig  up  the  blackthorn 
carefully,  so  that  he  might  have  enough  of  the 
thick  root  to  form  a  lethal  club.  Having  pruned 
it  roughly,  he  placed  the  butt  end  in  warm  ashes 
night  after  night  to  season.  Then  when  it  had 
become  sapless  and  hard  he  reduced  it  to  its  final 


AVENGER  ON  THE   TRACK  OF  REVIEWER-    285 

dimensions.  Afterwards  he  steeped  it  in  brine, 
or  "  put  it  in  pickle,"  as  the  saying  goes  ;  and  when 
it  had  been  a  sufficient  time  in  the  salt  water,  he 
took  it  out  and  rubbed  it  with  shamois  and  train  oil 
for  hours.  Then  came  the  final  process.  He  shot 
a  magpie,  drained  its  blood  into  a  cup,  and  with 
the  lappered  blood  polished  the  blackthorn  till  it 
became  glossy  black  with  a  mahogany  tint. 

The  shillelagh  was  then  a  beautiful,  tough,  for- 
midable weapon,  and  when  tipped  with  an  iron 
ferrule  was  quite  ready  for  action.  It  became 
Hugh's  trusty  companion,  esteemed  and  loved  for 
its  use  as  well  as  for  its  beauty.  No  Sir  Galahad 
ever  valued  his  shield,  or  trusted  his  spear,  as 
Hugh  Bronte  cherished  and  loved  his  shillelagh. 

When  the  shillelagh  was  ready,  other  prepara- 
tions were  quickly  completed.  Hugh  made  his 
will  by  the  aid  of  a  local  schoolmaster,  leaving 
everything  of  which  he  was  possessed  to  his 
maligned  niece ;  and  then,  decked  out  in  a  new 
suit  of  broadcloth  in  which  he  felt  stiff  and  awk- 
ward, he  departed  on  his  mission  of  vengeance. 

He  set  sail  from  Warrenpoint  for  Liverpool  by 
a  vessel  called  the  Sea-Nymph,  and  walked  from 
Liverpool  to  Haworth.  His  brother  James  had 
been  over  the  route  a  short  time  previously,  and 
from  him  he  had  received  all  necessary  directions 
as  to  the  way.  He  reached  the  vicarage  on  a 
Sunday  when  all,  except  Martha  the  old  servant, 


286  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

were  at  church.  At  first  the  faithful  old  Yorkshire 
woman  looked  upon  him  as  a  tramp,  and  refused 
to  admit  him  into  the  house ;  but  when  he  turned 
to  go  down  to  the  church,  road-stained  as  he  was, 
she  saw  that  the  honour  of  the  house  was  involved, 
and  she  agreed  to  allow  him  to  remain  till  the 
family  returned.  Under  the  conditions  of  the  truce, 
he  was  able  to  satisfy  Martha  as  to  his  identity, 
and  then  she  rated  him  soundly  for  journeying  on 
the  Sabbath  day. 

Hugh's  reception  at  the  vicarage  was  at  first 
chilling  ;  but  soon  the  girls  gathered  round  him,  and 
inquired  about  the  Glen,  the  Knock  Hill,  Emdale 
Fort,  and  the  Mourne  Mountains,  but  especially 
with  reference  to  the  local  ghosts  and  haunted 
houses.  On  all  these  topics  Hugh  had  much  to 
say  that  not  only  confirmed  what  they  already 
had  heard,  but  stimulated  their  curiosity  to  hear 
more. 

Hugh  was  bitterly  disappointed  to  find  his  niece 
so  small  and  frail.  His  pride  in  the  Bronte 
superiority  had  rested  mainly  on  the  thews  and 
comeliness  of  the  family,  and  he  found  it  difficult 
to  associate  mental  greatness  with  physical  little- 
ness. On  his  return  home  he  spoke  of  the  vicar's 
family  to  Mr.  McKee  as  "a  poor  frachther"  a  term 
applied  to  a  brood  of  young  chickens.  He  did 
not  babble  of  such  matters,  except  to  the  one  man 
whom  he  knew  he  could  trust.  From  his  brother 


AVENGER  ON  THE   TRACK  OF  REVIEWER     287 

Jamie,  Hugh  had  heard  that  Branwell  had  some- 
thing of  the  spunk  he  had  expected  from  the  family 
on  English  soil ;  but  he  was  too  small  and  fantastic, 
and  a  chatterer,  and  could  not  drink  more  than 
two  glasses  of  whiskey  at  the  Black  Bull  without 
making  a  fool  of  himself.  In  fact,  Jamie,  during  a 
visit,  had  to  carry  Branwell  home  more  than  once 
from  that  refuge  of  the  thirsty.* 

The  declaration  of  Hugh's  mission  of  revenge  was 
received  by  Charlotte  with  incredulous  astonish- 
ment. But  gentle  Anne  sympathised  with  him,  and 
wished  him  success.  Had  it  not  been  for  Anne's 
enthusiastic  encouragement,  Hugh  would  have 
returned  straight  home  from  Haworth  in  disgust. 

Patrick,  as  befitted  a  clergyman,  condemned 
the  undertaking,  and  did  what  he  could  to  amuse 
Hugh,  and  to  draw  his  mind  from  its  fierce  intents. 
He  was  careful  that  Hugh's  entertainments  should 
be  to  his  taste,  and  he  took  him  to  see  a  prize 
fight.  His  object  was  to  show  him  "a  battle 
that  would  take  the  conceat  out  of  him."  It 
had  the  contrary  effect.  Hugh  thought  the 
combatants  were  too  fat  and  lazy  to  fight,  and  he 
always  asserted  that  he  could  have  "licked  them 
both." 

*  Rosey  Heslip,  a  cousin  of  Charlotte  Bronte,  told  the 
Rev.  J.  B.  Lusk  that  she  heard  her  mother  say  that  Jamie, 
on  his  return  from  England,  declared  "that  Charlotte  had 
eyes  that  looked  through  you." 


288  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

The  vicar  also  took  him  to  Sir  John  Armitage's, 
where  he  saw  a  collection  of  arms,  some  of  which 
were  exceedingly  unwieldy.  Hugh  was  greatly 
impressed  with  the  heaviness  of  the  armour,  and 
especially  with  Robin  Hood's  helmet,  which  he 
was  allowed  to  place  on  his  head.  He  admitted 
that  he  could  not  have  worn  the  helmet  or  wielded 
the  sword  ;  but  he  maintained  at  the  same  time 
that  he  "  could  have  eaten  half  a  dozen  of  the  men 
he  saw  in  England  " — in  fact,  taken  them  like  a 
dish  of  whitebait. 

When  Hugh  Bronte  had  exhausted  the  wonders 
of  Yorkshire,  to  which  the  vicar  looked  for  moral 
effect,  he  started  on  his  mission  to  London.  A 
.  full  and  complete  account  of  his  search  for  the 
reviewer  would  be  most  interesting,  though  some- 
what ludicrous  ;  but  the  reader  must  be  content 
with  the  scrappy  information  at  my  disposal. 

Through  an  introduction  from  a  friend  of  Bran- 
well's,  he  found  cheap  and  suitable  lodgings  with 
a  working  family  from  Haworth.  They  lived  near 
the  river.  As  soon  as  Hugh  had  got  fairly  settled, 
he  went  direct  to  John  Murray's  publishing  house 
and  asked  to  see  the  reviewer.  He  declared  him- 
self an  uncle  of  Currer  Bell,  from  whom  he  had 
come  direct,  and  he  said  he  wished  to  give  the 
reviewer  some  specific  information. 

He  had  a  short  interview  at  Murray's  with  a  man 
who  said  he  was  the  editor  of  the  Quarterly,  and 


AVENGER   ON   THE   TRACK  OF  REVIEWER     289 

who  may  have  been  Lockhart ;  but  Hugh  told  him 
he  could  only  communicate  to  the  reviewer  his 
secret  message. 

He  continued  to  visit  Murray's  under  a  promise 
of  seeing  the  reviewer  ;  but  he  always  saw  the  same 
man,  who  pressed  him  greatly  to  say  who  Currer 
Bell  was. 

Hugh  declined  to  make  any  statement  except 
into  the  ear  of  the  reviewer  ;  but  as  the  truculent 
character  of  the  avenger  was  probably  very 
apparent,  his  direct  and  bold  move  did  not  succeed. 
They  ceased  to  admit  him  at  Murray's. 

Having  failed  at  Murray's,  he  went  to  the 
publishers  of  Jane  Eyre,  and  told  them  plainly  he 
was  the  author's  uncle,  and  that  he  had  come  to 
London  to  chastise  the  Quarterly  Review  critic. 
They  treated  him  civilly  without  furthering  his 
quest ;  but  he  got  from  them  an  introduction  to 
the  reading-room  of  the  British  Museum  and  to 
some  other  reading-rooms. 

In  the  reading-rooms  he  was  greatly  disgusted  to 
find  how  little  interest  was  taken  in  the  matter  that 
absorbed  his  whole  attention.  He  met,  however, 
one  kind  old  gentleman  in  the  British  Museum, 
who  thoroughly  sympathised  with  him,  and  took 
him  home  with  him  several  times.  On  one  occa- 
sion he  invited  a  number  of  people  to  meet  him  at 
dinner.  The  house  had  signs  of  wealth  such  as  he 
had  never  before  seen  or  dreamt  of.  Everybody 

19 


290  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

was  kind  to  him.  After  dinner  he  was  called  on 
for  a  speech,  and  when  he  sat  down  they  cheered 
him  and  drank  his  health. 

They  all  examined  his  shillelagh,  and  before 
parting  promised  to  do  their  best  to  aid  him  in 
discovering  the  reviewer  ;  but  his  friend  afterwards 
told  him  at  the  Museum  that  all  had  failed,  and  that 
they  considered  Hugh's  undertaking  hopeless. 

He  tried  other  plans  of  getting  on  the  reviewer's 
track.  He  would  step  into  a  bookshop,  and  buy  a 
sheet  of  paper  on  which  to  write  home,  or  some 
other  trifling  object.  While  paying  for  his  small 
purchase  he  would  take  up  the  Quarterly  Review, 
and  casually  ask  the  bookseller  who  wrote  the 
attack  on  Jane  Eyre. 

He  always  found  the  booksellers  communicative, 
if  not  well-informed.  Many  told  him  the  absurd 
story  then  current  connecting  Jane  Eyre  with 
Thackeray.  None  of  them  seemed  able  to  bear 
the  thought  of  appearing  ignorant  of  anything. 
It  was  quite  well  known,  they  assured  him,  that 
Thackeray  had  written  the  review  ;  "  in  fact,  he  had 
admitted  that  he  was  the  author  of  the  review." 

Some  declared  that  Mr.  George  Henry  Lewes  was 
the  author  ;  others  said  it  was  Harriet  Martineau  ; 
and  some  even  assured  him  that  Bulwer  Lytton, 
or  Dickens,  was  the  critic.  These  names  were 
given  with  confidence,  and  with  circumstantial 
details  which  seemed  to  create  a  probability ; 


AVENGER  ON   THE   TRACK  OF  REVIEWER     291 

but  his  friend  whom  he  met  daily  at  the  Museum 
assured  him  that  they  were  only  wild  and  absurd 
guesses. 

Hugh  Bronte  failed  to  find  the  reviewer  of  his 
niece's  novel,  but  in  his  earnest  quest  he  explored 
London  thoroughly.  He  saw  the  Queen,  but  was 
better  pleased  to  see  her  horses  and  talk  with  her 
grooms. 

He  saw  reviews  of  troops,  and  public  demon- 
strations, and  cattle  shows,  and  the  Houses  of 
Parliament,  and  ships  of  many  nations,  that  lay 
near  his  lodging ;  and  he  visited  the  Tower,  and 
other  objects  of  interest  ;  and  when  his  patience 
was  exhausted  and  his  money  spent,  he  returned 
to  Haworth  on  his  homeward  journey. 

Thus  ended  one  of  the  strangest  undertakings 

o  o 

within  the  whole  range  of  literary  adventure. 

His  stay  at  the  vicarage  was  brief.  During  his 
absence  consumption  had  been  rapidly  sapping  the 
life  of  the  youngest  girl.  The  house  was  gloomed 
with  bereavement  and  dismal  with  forebodings, 
and  yet  the  gentle  Anne  received  him  with  the 
warmest  welcome,  and  talked  of  accompanying 
him  to  Ireland,  which  she  spoke  of  as  "  home."  At 
parting  she  threw  her  long,  slender  arms  round  his 
neck,  and  called  him  her  noble  uncle  ;  and  the  great 
giant  felt  amply  rewarded  for  his  fruitless  efforts, 
and  never  after  referred  to  the  circumstance  with- 
out his  eyes  filling  with  tears.  Charlotte  took  him 


292  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

for  a  walk  on  the  moor,  asked  a  thousand  questions, 
told  him  about  Emily  and  Branwell,  and  slipping 
a  few  sovereigns  into  his  hand,  advised  him  to 
hasten  home.  On  the  following  day  he  parted  for 
ever  from  the  family  that  he  would  have  given  his 
life  to  befriend. 

No  welcome  awaited  him  at  home,  because  he 
had  failed  in  his  mission.  He  gave  to  Mr.  McKee 
a  detailed  account  of  his  adventures  in  England  ;  * 
but  I  do  not  think  any  other  stranger  ever  heard 
from  him  a  single  word  regarding  the  sad  home  at 
Haworth. 

*  A  daughter  of  Mr.  McKee's  told  me  that  more  than  once 
she  tried  to  get  this  story  from  Hugh  Bronte  at  first  hand,  but 
always  in  vain.  He  would  talk  freely  enough  about  what  he 
had  seen  in  England,  but  grew  silent,  and  dangerous-looking, 
when  pressed  as  to  the  subject  of  his  journey.  On  one 
occasion  she  said  she  had  already  heard  the  story  from  her 
father.  He  looked  vexed,  as  if  his  secret  had  been  betrayed, 
but  he  simply  replied,  "Then  you  don't  need  to  hear  of  it 
from  me."  I  often  talked  with  Hugh  of  his  adventures  in 
England,  but  the  conversation  always  came  to  an  abrupt 
termination  if  I  referred  to  Haworth,  or  the  object  of  his 
mission. 

Jamie's  visit  to  Haworth  may  have  been  before  the  publi- 
cation of  Jane  Eyre,  but  it  took  place  during  the  time  that 
Branwell  was  drinking  himself  into  the  grave.  Hugh's  visit 
was  a  little  before  the  death  of  Anne.  For  prudential  reasons, 
Hugh's  mission  was  at  first  kept  secret,  and  after  its  failure 
pride  would  not  permit  a  reference  to  it.  The  adventure  was 
known  only  to  Mr.  McKee,  and  the  brothers  and  sisters  at 
home.  Those  who  were  not  at  home  never  heard  of  it. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

WHO   WROTE   THE   REVIEW  ?      A   WORKING 
HYPOTHESIS 

THE  December  number  of  the  Quarterly  Review 
of  1848  is  perhaps  the  most  famous  of  the 
entire  series.  Its  fame  rests  on  a  mystery  which 
has  baffled  literary  curiosity  for  close  on  half  a 
century.  "  Who  wrote  the  review  of  Jane  Eyre  ?  " 
is  a  question  that  has  been  asked  by  every 
contributor  to  English  literature  since  the  critique 
appeared ;  but  up  till  September  last  year  the 
question  was  asked  in  vain,  and  all  guesses  were 
wide  of  the  mark. 

The  descendant  and  namesake  of  the  eminent 
projector  and  proprietor  of  the  Quarterly  does  not 
feel  at  liberty  to  solve  the  mystery  by  revealing 
the  writer.  I  admire  the  loyalty  of  John  Murray 
to  a  servant  whose  work  has  attained  an  evil  pre- 
eminence. It  is  interesting  to  know  in  these  prying 
and  babbling  times  that  in  the  house  of  Murray 
the  secret  of  even  a  supposed  ruffian  is  safe  to  the 
third  generation. 

293 


294  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Like  the  fracturer  of  the  Portland  vase,  and  the 
assassins  of  eminent  men  who  have  gained  notoriety 
in  connection  with  the  greatness  that  they  sought 
to  destroy,  the  Quarterly  reviewer  is  inseparably 
linked  with  Jane  Eyre,  on  account  of  the  diabolical 
attempt  to  shatter  the  novel  and  blast  the  character 
of  its  author.  The  pretence  of  religion  and  morality 
under  which  the  dastardly  deed  was  attempted 
has  given  point  to  the  detestation  with  which  it 
has  been  regarded  ;  and  even  now  the  reviewer  is 
looked  on  with  something  like  hatred  as  a  common 
enemy.  The  verdict  of  condemnation  with  regard 
to  the  review  has  been  unanimous,  and  sentence 
has  been  passed  on  the  unknown  criminal  in 
language  anything  but  judicial. 

Mrs.  Gaskell  referred  to  the  article  as  "  flippant," 
and  added  :  "  But  flippancy  takes  a  graver  name 
when  directed  against  an  author  by  an  anonymous 
writer  ;  we  call  it  then  cowardly  insolence."  Then 
she  closes  a  long-drawn-out  rhetorical  passage, 
calling  on  the  reviewer  to  "  pray  with  the  publican 
rather  than  judge  with  the  Pharisee." 

Swinburne,  in  his  Note  on  Charlotte  Bronte,  deals 
with  the  review  in  a  passage  which  is  without  a 
parallel  in  the  English  language  : — 

"  It  is  of  infinitely  small  moment  that  we  know 
only  by  its  offence  the  obscffe  animal  now  nailed 
up  for  this  offence  by  the  ear,  though  not  by  name, 
—its  particular  name  being  as  undiscoverable  as 


WHO    WROTE   THE  REVIEW?  295 

its    generic   designation   is    unmistakable, — to  the 
undecaying  gibbet  of  immemorial  contempt. 

"  When  a  farmer  used  to  nail  a  dead  polecat  on 
the  outside  of  his  barn  door,  it  was  surely  less  from 
any  specific  personal  rancour  of  retaliatory  animo- 
sity towards  that  particular  creature  than  by  way 
of  judicial  admonition  to  the  tribe  as  yet  untrapped, 
the  horde  as  yet  unhanged,  which  might  survive  to 
lament  if  not  to  succeed  the  malodorous  malefactor. 
No  mortal  can  now  be  curious  to  verify  the  name 
as  well  as  the  nature  of  the  typical  specimen  which 
then  emitted  in  one  spasm  of  sub-human  spite  at 
once  the  snarl  and  the  stench  proper  to  its  place 
and  kind. 

"  But  we  know  that  from  the  earlier  days  of 
Shelley  onwards  to  these  latter  days  of  Tennyson, 
whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever  things  are 
honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever 
things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely, 
whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report,  become 
untrue,  dishonest,  unjust,  impure,  unlovely,  and 
ill-famed,  when  passed  through  the  critical  crucible 
of  the  Quarterly  Review? 

Mr.  Augustine  Birrell's  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte 
is  worth  reading  for  his  onslaught  on  the  reviewer. 
He  drops  on  "  the  base  creature  "  as  "  the  detestable 
hypocrite  who  wrote  the  review  in  the  Quarterly" 
He  refers  to  "  the  male  ruffianism  "  of  the  reviewer 
who  recognised  the  "tragic  power"  and  "moral 


296 


THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 


sublimity  "  of  the  book ;  "  yet  mindful  of  his  bargain, 
true  to  his  guineas,"  he  sought,  by  circulating  what 
he  himself  calls  "  the  gossip  of  Mayfair,"  to  destroy 
the  reputation  and  fair  fame  of  the  author.  Mr. 
Birrell  concludes  as  follows : — 

"  If  it  be  said  that  such  nauseous  and  malignant 
hypocrisy  as  that  of  the  Quarterly  reviewer  ought 
not  to  be  republished  :  the  answer  is,  that  it  is 
impossible  to  rejoice  with  due  fervour  over  exter- 
minated monsters  until  we  have  gazed  in  museums 
upon  their  direful  features.  It  is  a  matter  of 
congratulation  that  such  a  review  as  the  one  we 
have  quoted  from  is  now  impossible.  It  is  also 
convenient  that  the  name  of  the  reviewer  is  un- 
known, so  that  no  one  can  arise  and  say,  '  1  loved 
that  man ! ' 

"  It  was  judgments  like  those  of  the  reviewer 
that  tempted  people  to  forswear  respectability 
altogether — to  break  up  house,  and  live  in  the 
tents  of  Bohemia — since  remaining  respectable 
and  keeping  house  exposed  them  to  the  risk  of 
meeting,  actually  meeting,  the  reviewer  himself 
and  other  members  of  his  family." 

Who  was  "  the  detestable  hypocrite  "  and  "  base 
creature "  ?  Or  how  did  the  "  male  ruffianism  " 
take  form  ?  I  believe  1  am  able  now  to  show  that 
these  matters  are  no  longer  secrets. 

There  is  nothing  clearer  to  my  mind  than  that 
the  composition  of  the  article  is  the  work  of  different 


WHO    WROTE   THE  REVIEW  >  297 

hands.  Of  the  thirty-two  pages  of  the  review  three 
or  four  pages  stand  like  bits  of  drugget  set  into 
a  Persian  carpet,  or  like  patches  of  Paisley  on  a 
Cashmere  shawl.  The  difference  between  fustian 
and  silk  is  not  greater  in  substance,  texture,  and 
tone,  than  that  which  exists  between  the  original 
article  and  the  interpolations,  which  were  intended 
to  make  it  palatable  to  conventional  and  common- 
place minds.  The  scissors  as  well  as  the  pen  were 
used  in  bringing  the  original  review  to  the  required 
standard,  and  one  can  only  wonder  that  certain 
parts  were  allowed  to  stand. 

The  notorious  article  deals  with  three  subjects, 
but  chiefly  with  Vanity  Fair  and  Jane  Eyre.  The 
reviewer  begins  with  Vanity  Fair,  which  fairly 
takes  his  breath  away.  He  is  lost  in  admiration  : 
"  We  must  discuss  Vanity  Fair  first,  which,  much 
as  we  were  entitled  to  expect  from  its  author's  pen, 
has  fairly  taken  us  by  surprise."  The  novel  is 
dealt  with  as  a  work  up  to  the  reviewer's  standard. 
He  writes  about  it  in  the  measured  style  of  a  cen- 
sorious man  of  the  world.  He  lauds  Becky  Sharpe, 
but  he  hands  her  over  to  destruction  with  a  light 
heart.  He  compares  her  to  one  of  Bunyan's 
pilgrims,  "  only,"  he  adds,  "  unfortunately  this  one 
is  travelling  the  wrong  way.  And  we  say  un- 
fortunately merely  by  way  of  courtesy,  for  in 
reality  we  care  little  about  the  matter."  She  is  an 
admirable  piece  of  art,  but  that  her  back  is  turned 


298  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

to   heaven   and   her  face   towards   hell   is  only  a 
matter  for  pleasantry. 

Having  thus  jauntily  handed  Becky  Sharpe 
over  to  reprobation  without  compunction  or  regret, 
the  critic  tells  us  :  "  She  came  into  the  world  with- 
out the  customary  letters  of  credit  upon  the  two 
great  bankers  of  humanity,  heart  and  conscience ; 
and  it  was  no  fault  of  hers  if  they  dishonoured  all 
her  bills.  All  she  could  do  in  this  dilemma  was 
to  establish  the  firmest  connection  with  the  inferior 
commercial  branches  of  sense  and  tact,  who 
secretly  do  much  business  in  the  name  of  the  head 
concern,  and  with  whom  her  fine  frontal  de- 
velopment gave  her  unlimited  credit.  .  .  .  She 
practised  the  arts  of  selfishness  and  hypocrisy  like 
everybody  else  in  Vanity  Fair,  only  with  this 
difference,  that  she  brought  them  to  their  highest 
possible  pitch  of  perfection.  ...  At  all  events, 
the  infernal  regions  have  no  reason  to  be  ashamed 
of  little  Becky,  nor  the  ladies  either ;  she  has  at 
least  all  the  cleverness  of  her  sex." 

Becky  and  her  sex  having  been  thus  disposed 
of,  and  Thackeray  sufficiently  lauded,  the  censorious 
man  of  the  world  has  a  sarcastic  fling  at  the  "  stern 
moralist "  and  the  reader  of  "  good  books  "  : — 

"  Poor  little  Becky  is  bad  enough  to  satisfy  the 
most  ardent  student  of  '  good  books.'  Wicked- 
ness beyond  a  certain  pitch  gives  no  increase  of 
gratification  even  to  the  sternest  moralist  ;  and 


WHO   WROTE   THE  REVIEW?  299 

one  of  Mr.  Thackeray's  excellencies  is  the  sparing 
quantity  he  consumes." 

"  Upon  the  whole,"  he  adds,  "  we  are  not  afraid 
to  own  that  we  rather  enjoy  her  ignis-fatuus 
course,  dragging  the  weak  and  vain  and  the 
selfish  through  much  mire  after  her,  arid  acting  all 
parts,  from  the  modest  rushlight  to  the  gracious  star, 
just  as  it  suits  her,  clever  little  imp  that  she  is." 

The  reviewer  turns  from  Vanity  Fair,  which 
he  has  found  up  to  his  taste,  with  its  pack  of 
reprobates,  to  Jane  Eyre,  and  the  character,  style, 
and  tone  of  the  article  changes.  The  nonchalant 
Gallio  of  morals  suddenly  becomes  a  "  stern 
moralist." 

The  style  becomes  mixed.  In  one  of  the  first 
sentences  there  is  an  interpolation,  throwing  the 
sentence  off  its  balance,  and  necessitating  specific 
illustration,  which  is  done  by  a  feeble  hand.  Two 
hands  are  now  at  work  on  the  composition — a 
pagan  hand,  and  a  would-be  Christian.  Here  is 
a  good  specimen.  The  reviewer,  speaking  of  Jane 
Eyre  after  her  great  disappointment,  thus  pro- 
ceeds : — 

"A  noble,  high-souled  woman,  bound  to  us  by 
the  reality  of  her  sorrow,  and  yet  raised  above  us 
by  the  strength  of  her  will,  stands  in  actual  life 
before  us.  ...  Let  us  look  at  Jier  in  the  first 
recognition  of  Jier  sorrow  after  the  discomfiture  of 
her  marriage.  True  it  is  not  the  attitude  of  a 


300  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

Christian  who  knows  that  all  things  work  together 
for  good  to  those  who  love  God  ;  but  it  is  a  splendidly 
drawn  picture  of  a  natural  heart,  of  high  power, 
intense  feeling,  and  fine  religious  instinct,  falling 
prostrate,  but  not  grovelling  before  the  blast  of 
sudden  affliction." 

Let  the  reader  go  through  this  passage,  first 
omitting  the  part  in  italics,  which  are  mine,  and 
then  read  the  whole  with  the  italics,  and  he  will 
see  how  the  jumble  is  made  up. 

The  styles  are  as  different  as  the  sentiments, 
but  the  pagan  hand  is  clearly  the  stronger.  If 
internal  evidence  as  to  styles  is  admissible,  in  this 
case  it  is  overwhelming  and  decisive. 

But  the  case  is  much  stronger  as  regards  diver- 
sity of  sentiment.  It  is  so  patent  that  it  requires 
no  finding  out.  It  has  not  to  be  brought  to  light, 
it  stands  revealed.  Could  the  parts  in  italics  have 
been  written  by  the  frivolous  pagan  who  cheered 
Becky  Sharpe  with  courtesy,  but  without  care,  on 
her  way  to  the  bottomless  pit,  and  who  jeered  at 
the  "  stern  moralist "  and  the  reader  of  "  good 
books  "  only  a  few  pages  earlier  ?  If  the  question 
cannot  be  satisfactorily  settled  by  the  parts  already 
quoted,  let  us  read  what  follows  : — 

"  We  have  said  that  this  was  a  picture  of  the 
natural  heart.  This,  to  our  view,  is  the  great  and 
crying  mischief  of  the  book.  Jane  Eyre  is  through- 
out the  personification  of  an  unregenerate  and 


WHO    WROTE   THE  REVIEW?  301 

undisciplined  spirit — the  more  dangerous  to  exhibit 
from  this  prestige  of  principle  and  self-control, 
which  is  liable  to  dazzle  the  eye  too  much  for  it 
to  observe  the  insufficient  and  unsound  foundation 
on  which  it  rests.  It  is  true  Jane  does  right,  and 
exerts  great  moral  strength  ;  but  it  is  the  strength 
of  a  mere  heathen  mind,  which  is  a  law  unto  itself. 
No  Christian  grace  is  perceptible  upon  her.  She 
inherited  in  fullest  measure  the  worst  sin  of  our 
fallen  nature,  the  sin  of  pride.  Jane  Eyre  is  proud, 
and  therefore  she  is  ungrateful  too.  It  pleased 
God  to  make  her  an  orphan,  friendless,  and  penni- 
less ;  and  yet  she  thanks  nobody,  least  of  all  the 
friends,  companions,  and  instructors  of  her  helpless 
youth,  for  the  food  and  raiment,  the  care  and 
education  vouchsafed  to  her,  till  she  was  capable 
in  mind  and  fit  to  provide  for  herself.  Alto- 
gether the  autobiography  of  Jane  Eyre  is  pre- 
eminently an  anti-Christian  composition.  There 
is  throughout  it  a  murmuring  against  the  comforts 
of  the  rich  and  the  privations  of  the  poor,  which, 
so  far  as  each  individual  is  concerned,  is  a  murmur- 
ing against  God's  appointment.  There  is  a  proud 
and  perpetual  asserting  of  the  rights  of  man  for 
which  we  find  no  authority  in  God's  Word  or  in 
His  providence.  There  is  that  pervading  tone  of 
ungodly  discontent  which  is  at  once  the  most 
prominent  and  the  most  subtle  evil  which  the  law 
and  the  pulpit,  which  all  civilised  society  has,  in 


302  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

fact,  at  the  present  day  to  contend  with.  We  do 
not  hesitate  to  say  that  the  tone  of  mind  and 
thought  which  has  overthrown  authority,  and 
violated  every  code — human  and  Divine — abroad, 
and  fostered  charterism  and  rebellion  at  home,  is 
the  same  which  has  written  Jane  Eyre." 

It  is  not  necessary  to  say  whether  the  judgment 
expressed  in  this  passage  is  correct  or  not.  It  is 
enough  for  my  purpose  to  point  out  that  it  is 
entirely  out  of  harmony  with  all  that  has  gone 
before  in  the  Review,  and  still  more  in  direct 
conflict  with  all  that  comes  after.  The  entire 
passage  is  an  interpolation. 

The  reviewer  who  was  fascinated  with  Becky 
Sharpe,  who  had  neither  heart  nor  conscience,  and 
of  whom  "  the  infernal  regions  had  no  reason  to 
be  ashamed,"  could  hardly  be  the  same  who 
deplores  Jane  Eyre's  "  natural  heart "  and  "  unre- 
generate  spirit,"  lack  of  grace  and  gratitude,  fulness 
of  pride  and  original  sin. 

There  are  three  or  four  pages  only  of  this  kind 
of  stuff,  and  then  for  the  remaining  nine  pages  of 
the  article  the  reviewer  is  in  full  accord  with  Jane 
Eyre,  and  pleads  with  great  earnestness  for  the 
better  treatment  of  governesses. 

He  dwells  on  their  qualifications,  their  troubles, 
the  fictitious  barriers  raised  between  them  and  their 
employers,  "  the  perpetual  little  dropping-water 
trials,"  all  of  which  embitter  the  lives  of  these 


WHO    WROTE   THE  REVIEW?  303 

ill-used  ladies,  whom  the  servants  detest,  and  the 
children  may  love,  but  not  befriend. 

But  the  reviewer  goes  farther.  He  who  was 
supposed  to  have  declared  Jane  Eyre  pre-eminently 
an  anti-Christian  composition,  "  on  account  of  the 
assertion  of  the  rights  of  man  and  discontent  with 
poverty,"  becomes  guilty  of  the  very  thing  he  was 
supposed  to  have  denounced  on  the  previous  page. 
He  strikes  out  fiercely  at  the  Christian  mothers 
who  take  advantage  of  destitute  ladies'  helplessness 
to  pay  them  starvation  wages  : — 

"  There  is  something  positively  usurious  in  the 
manner  with  which  the  misfortunes  of  the  indi- 
vidual are  nowadays  constantly  taken  advantage 
of  to  cut  down  the  stipend  of  the  governess  to 
the  lowest  ratio  which  she  will  accept." 

The  same  article  which  declared  God's  Word  and 
Providence  on  the  side  of  wealth,  and  condemned 
discontent  in  misery,  goes  far  beyond  Jane  Eyre 
in  democratic  discontent  and  socialistic  levelling. 
Charlotte  Bronte,  with  her  Tory  sentiments  and 
democratic  instincts,  simply  removes  the  mask  from 
the  face  of  hypocrisy.  The  work  of  Wellington's 
little  adorer  is  made  into  a  bogey,  and  held  up  as 
the  spirit  responsible  for  revolution  abroad,  for 
charterism  and  rebellion  at  home  ;  but  a  few  pages 
farther  on  the  bogey  is  forgotten,  and  the  language 
of  the  review  far  outstrips  "  the  tone  of  mind  and 
thought "  of  the  little  Tory  governess. 


304  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

On  the  part  of  the  reviewer  there  is  no  mere 
lifting  of  the  veil  from  the  face  of  hypocrisy.  He 
goes  direct  for  the  transgressors.  "  That  service, 
not  the  abundance  of  supply  of  female  labour, 
should  be  the  standard  of  pay,"  is  the  canon  which 
he  lays  down.  But  he  declares,  "The  Christian 
parent  lowers  the  salary  because  the  friendless 
orphan  will  take  anything  rather  than  be  without 
a  situation." 

"  This,"  he  exclaims,  "  is  more  oppressive  than 
the  usurious  interest  of  the  money-lender,  because 
it  weighs  not  upon  a  selfish,  thoughtless,  and  ex- 
travagant man,  but  upon  a  poor,  patient,  industrious 
woman." 

The  reviewer  has  here  dropped  the  flippant  tone 
and  become  fiercely  in  earnest.  He  almost  flies 
in  the  face  of  constituted  authority.  "  Workmen 
may  rebel,  tradesmen  may  combine,"  but  the  poor 
friendless  governess  is  left  to  the  uncovenanted 
mercies  of  the  English  matron. 

The  simple  explanation  of  these  inconsistencies 
is  this.  The  reprobated  article  was  written  with 
a  generous  appreciation  of  Jane  Eyre,  which  the 
writer  recognised  as  the  work  of  a  "  great  artist  "  ; 
but  the  passages  that  are  out  of  harmony  with 
the  article  were  inserted  by  the  editor  or  by  his 
instructions. 

Lockhart  was  editor  of  the  Quarterly  at  the 
time,  and  he  was  responsible  for  "  the  tone  of  mind 


WHO    WROTE   THE  REVIEW?  305 

and  thought "  of  the  articles  that  were  inserted. 
Propriety  in  the  eyes  of  the  Quarterly  readers  was 
outraged  by  the  manner  in  which  the  new  hand 
had  broken  through  the  crusts  of  things  held 
sacred,  and  hence  the  three  or  four  pages  out  of 
thirty-two,  of  maudlin  sentimentality  and  insincere 
Philistinisms. 

There  was  nothing  unusual  in  such  treatment  of 
articles  in  those  days.  The  ablest  writers  of  the 
time  were  obliged  to  submit  to  such  editing. 
Southey  and  Thackeray,  and  even  Carlyle,  had 
their  works  pared  and  polished  and  padded  to  suit 
the  demands  of  the  public  taste. 

A  magazine  was  a  commercial  speculation,  and 
it  was  the  duty  and  business  of  the  editor  to  shape 
its  contents  to  please  the  reader  and  profit  the 
proprietor. 

If  my  hypothesis  *  is  right,  it  matters  little  who 
wrote  the  article,  though  there  is  no  longer  any 
secret  with  regard  to  the  matter.  In  wealth  of 
knowledge,  felicity  of  expression,  appreciation  of 
good  work,  and  lofty  superiority  of  tone,  it  is  in 

*  Since  the  above  was  in  type  Mr.  Andrew  Lang  has 
written  me  that  he  "accidentally  came  across  the  Quarterly 
Review,  and  saw  at  once  that  the  article  was  interpolated." 
He  also  informs  me  that  he  published  his  views  on  the 
subject  in  the  Daily  News  some  time  in  1889-92.  He 
generously  adds  :  "I  don't  want  to  boast  of  my  priority  of 
discovery,  but  the  coincidence  increases  the  probability  that 
we  are  right." 

2O 


306  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

the  main  a  typical  Quarterly  article.  But  with 
all  its  excellence,  it  would  have  been  forgotten 
had  not  the  sugary,  vinegary,  watery  morsel  been 
inserted  in  the  middle  of  it. 

The  question,  then,  "  Who  supplied  the  palatable 
pabulum  to  the  Quarterly!"  admits  of  but  one 
answer.  The  entire  responsibility  lies  at  Lockhart's 
door  ;  and  whether  the  work  was  done  by  his  sub- 
editor, or  by  Elwin,  or  by  his  own  hand,  the  blame 
in  future  must  be  considered  his,  and  his  alone. 
Nor  need  we  use  again,  in  this  connection,  such 
phrases  as  "spiteful  and  malignant  hypocrisy." 
It  is  not  likely  that  there  was  anything  either 
spiteful  or  malignant  in  the  matter.  In  fact,  it 
was  largely  a  business  transaction  of  supply  and 
demand.  The  editor  merely  did  what  he  was 
expected  to  do,  and  what  under  the  circumstances 
he  was  used  to  do. 

Assuming  the  editor's  responsibility  for  the 
incriminated  interpolations,  who  wrote  the  article 
itself?  Secrets  are  having  a  bad  time  of  it  in  our 
day,  and  the  authorship  of  the  article  is  no  longer 
a  secret.  As  has  been  generally  suspected,  the 
writer  was  a  woman,  and  that  woman  was  Miss 
Rigby,  the  daughter  of  a  Norwich  doctor,  and 
better  known  as  Lady  Eastlake. 

The  well-kept  secret  was  brought  to  light  by 
Dr.  Robertson  Nicoll  in  the  Bookman  of  Sep- 
tember 1892.  Dr.  Nicoll  found  the  key  to  the 


WHO   WROTE   THE  REVIEW?  307 

mystery  in  a  letter  v/ritten  on  the  3 1st  of  March, 
1849,  by  Sara  Coleridge  to  Edward  Quillinan, 
Wordsworth's  son-in-law,  and  published  in  the 
Memoirs  and  Letters  of  Sara  Coleridge*  The 
following  is  the  passage  in  Sara  Coleridge's  letter 
referring  to  the  matter  : — 

"  Miss  Rigby's  article  on  Vanity  Fair  was 
brilliant,  as  all  her  productions  are.  But  I  could 
not  agree  to  the  concluding  remark  about  gover- 
nesses. How  could  it  benefit  that  uneasy  class 
to  reduce  the  number  of  their  employers,  which,  if 
high  salaries  were  considered  in  all  cases  indispen- 
sable, must  necessarily  be  the  result  of  such  a  state 
of  opinion  ?  " 

The  Quarterly  article  on  Vanity  Fair  dealt  also 
with  Jane  Eyre  and  with  the  Report  of  the  Gover- 
nesses' Benevolent  Institution  for  1847,  and  it  is 
without  doubt  the  article  referred  to  by  Sara 
Coleridge. 

On  this  matter  Sara  Coleridge  was  not  likely 
to  be  under  any  mistake.  Miss  Rigby  was  her 
intimate  friend,  and  not  likely  to  conceal  from  her 
so  important  a  literary  event  as  the  production  of 
a  Quarterly  review.  Besides,  Sara  Coleridge  had 
private  information  regarding  the  Quarterly,  for 
in  the  same  letter  she  says,  "  I  am  awaiting  with 
some  curiosity  the  arrival  of  the  Quarterly,  in 
which  Mr.  Lockhart  has  dealt  with  Macaulay." 
*  Vol.  ii.,  p.  223. 


3o8  THE  BRONTES  IN  IRELAND 

I  am  also,  informed  that  Mr.  George  Smith,  the 
publisher  of  Jane  Eyre,  declares  without  hesitation 
or  doubt  that  he  had  always  known  that  Lady 
Eastlake  was  the  author  of  the  Quarterly  article, 
and  that  he  had  declined  to  meet  her  at  dinner 
on  account  of  it. 

The  fact  that  the  brilliant  Miss  Rigby  was  the 
writer  of  the  review  greatly  strengthens  my  inter- 
polation theory.  To  me  it  seems  beyond  the 
range  of  things  probable,  that  the  pharisaic  part 
of  the  article  could  have  come  from  the  same 
source  as  Livonian  Tales  and  the  Letters  front  the 
Shores  of  the  Baltic. 

The  article  is  therefore  of  a  composite  character. 
It  was  written  by  Miss  Rigby  the  year  before  her 
marriage  with  Sir  Charles  Lock  Eastlake. 

I  know  it  will  be  said  that  the  genial  Lockhart 
would  not  have  added  the  objectionable  fustian  to 
the  superior  material  supplied  by  Miss  Rigby  ;  but 
I  repeat  that  it  lay  with  him  as  a  mere  matter  of 
business,  and  a  purely  editorial  affair,  to  maintain 
the  traditional  tone  of  the  Review. 


Printed  by  Hagell,  Watson,  <S*  Viney,  Ld.,  London  and  Aylesuury. 


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PR 

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W7 

1893 


Wright,  William 

The  Bronte's  in  Ireland