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.
CHAPTER I.
THE DARK FOUNDLING.
Hugh Brontë’s grandfather, the great-great-grandfather of the English novelist, formerly lived upon a farm on the banks of the Boyne, above Drogheda. He was a cattle-dealer, and often crossed to Liverpool to dispose of his stock. Once, when he was returning therefrom, a strange child was found in a bundle in the hold of the vessel. It was very young, very black, very dirty, and almost destitute of clothing. No one knew whence it had come, nor cared what became of it. There was no doctor in the ship, and no woman save Mrs. Brontë, who had accompanied her husband. The child was thrown on deck. Some one said, “Toss it overboard,” but nobody would touch it, and its cries were distressing. From sheer pity Mrs. Brontë was obliged to succor the abandoned infant.
On reaching Drogheda, it was taken ashore for food and clothing, with the intention of returning it to Liverpool; but the captain refused to allow it to be brought aboard of his ship again. As no one in Drogheda had an interest in the child, it was left in Mrs. Brontë’s hands. To be sure, there was a vestry tax at that time for the removal of illegitimate children, but Mrs. Brontë found it much easier to take the child home than to Dublin, where it might possibly be refused admission amongst the authorized foundlings—there being no hospital nearer than that point.
When the infant was carried up out of the hold of the vessel, it was declared to be a Welsh child on account of its color. It might, doubtless, have laid claim to a more Oriental descent, but, when it became a Brontë, it was called “Welsh.” The Brontës, who were all golden-haired, exceedingly disliked the swarthy infant, but “pity melts the heart to love,” and Mrs. Brontë brought it up amongst her own children. Little Welsh was a weak, delicate, and fretful thing, and being generally despised and pushed aside by the vigorous young Brontës, he grew up morose, envious, and cunning. He used secretly to play many spiteful tricks upon the children, so that they were continually chastising him. On his part, he maintained a moody, sullen silence, except when Mr. Brontë was present to protect him. With Mr. Brontë he became a favorite, because he always ran to meet him on his return home, as if glad to see him, and anxious to render him any possible assistance. He followed his master about, while at home, with dog-like fidelity, telling him everything he knew to the other children’s disadvantage, 279 and thus succeeded in securing a permanent place between them and their father.
Old Brontë took Welsh with him to fairs and markets, instead of his own sons, as soon as he was able to go, and found him of the greatest service. His very insignificance added to his usefulness. He would mingle with the people from whom Brontë wished to purchase cattle, and find out from their conversation the lowest price they would be willing to take, and then report to his master. Brontë would then offer the dealers a little less than he knew they wanted, and secure the cattle without the usual weary process of bargaining. The same course was repeated in Liverpool, and in the end Brontë became a rich and prosperous dealer. Welsh was now indispensable to him, and followed him like a shadow; but the more Brontë became attached to Welsh, the more the children hated the interloper. As time went on, Brontë’s affairs passed more and more into his assistant’s hands, until at last he had the entire management. They were returning from Liverpool once, after selling the largest drove of cattle that had ever crossed the channel, when suddenly Brontë died in mid-ocean. Welsh, who was with him at the time of his death, professed ignorance of his master’s money; and, as all books and accounts had disappeared, no one could tell what had become of the cash received for the cattle.