INTRODUCTION.
The sources of information regarding the Brontë family in England have been studiously investigated, and everything known about them there has been described with great wealth of literary skill and ingenuity; but the eager guesses and surmises as to what lay beyond the English boundaries have been mostly erroneous.
Mrs. Gaskell’s “Life of Charlotte Brontë” is an exquisite tribute from a gifted hand, but Mrs. Gaskell’s dreary moorlands are as inadequate to account for the Brontë genius, as the general picture of suppressed sadness is unwarranted by the Brontë letters, or by the living testimony of Miss Ellen Nussey, Charlotte’s life-long friend and confidante.
Mr. Wemyss Reid has given us a picture of this singular family in brighter, truer colors; but his theory as to the “disillusioning” of Charlotte at Brussels is a pure assumption, and repudiated with indignation by Miss Nussey.
Mr. Augustine Birrell’s brilliant “Life of Charlotte Brontë” contains some additional facts gleaned in England, and deserves to be read, if only for the generous indignation called forth by the “Quarterly Reviewer,” who sought to assassinate the reputation of the author of “Jane Eyre.”
A feeling of dissatisfaction was felt in some degree by each of these writers in turn, but by none more clearly expressed than by Mr. J. A. Erskine Stuart in his most useful book, “The Brontë Country.” He writes: “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 thus expressed, and to fulfill the prediction implied, so far as regards the Brontës in Ireland. I propose in the following pages to supply the Irish straws of Brontë history which I have been accumulating for nearly half a century. I have waited in hopes that some more skillful 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 Brontës must be told by me, or remain untold.
My first classical teacher was the Reverend William McAllister, of Ryans, near Newry, a man of brilliant imagination, who under favorable conditions might have taken rank with John Bunyan or William Blake. He had known Patrick Brontë (Charlotte’s father), and had often heard old Hugh, the grandfather, narrate to a spell-bound audience, the incidents which formed the ground-work of “Wuthering Heights.” He used to take me for long walks in the fields, and tell me the story of Hugh Brontë’s early life, or narrate other Brontë adventures, which he assured me were just as worthy to be recounted as the wrath of Achilles or the wanderings of Pius Æneas. It thus happened that I wrote screeds of the Brontë novels myself before a line of them had been penned at Haworth. I do not think that Branwell Brontë 278 really meant to deceive when he spoke of having written “Wuthering Heights,” for the story in outline must have been common property at Haworth, and the children of the vicarage were all scribblers.
Through my teacher’s relatives, who lived quite near to the Brontës, I was able to verify facts and incidents, and the pains thus taken has fixed them indelibly upon my mind. At a later period, I had still better opportunities for forming a sound judgment concerning the Irish Brontës, for the pleasantest part of my undergraduate holidays was spent at the manse of the Reverend David McKee of Ballynaskeagh. Mr. McKee was a great educationalist, and prepared many students for college who afterwards became famous.
This great and noble man, who stood six feet six inches high, was the friend of the Brontës, as well as their near neighbor. He recognized the Brontë genius, where others only saw what was wild and unconventional. Mr. McKee’s home was the center of mental activity in that neighborhood, and the early copies of the novels that came to the “Uncle Brontë’s” were cut, read, and criticised by Mr. McKee, and his criticisms forwarded to the Haworth nieces. Great was the joy of those uncles and aunts when Mr. McKee’s approval was enthusiastically given.
There are also several other persons, some of them still living, who knew the Brontës, and have kindly communicated to me the information they possessed, so that I have had illumination from various points on this many-sided family.