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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Half-Brothers, by Elizabeth Gaskell
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Half-Brothers
+
+Author: Elizabeth Gaskell
+
+Release Date: March, 2001 [eBook #2532]
+[Most recently updated: April 26, 2021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: David Price, Jennifer Lee, Alev Akman and Andy Wallace
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HALF-BROTHERS ***
+
+
+
+
+The Half-Brothers
+
+by Elizabeth Gaskell
+
+
+
+
+My mother was twice married. She never spoke of her first husband, and
+it is only from other people that I have learnt what little I know
+about him. I believe she was scarcely seventeen when she was married to
+him: and he was barely one-and-twenty. He rented a small farm up in
+Cumberland, somewhere towards the sea-coast; but he was perhaps too
+young and inexperienced to have the charge of land and cattle: anyhow,
+his affairs did not prosper, and he fell into ill health, and died of
+consumption before they had been three years man and wife, leaving my
+mother a young widow of twenty, with a little child only just able to
+walk, and the farm on her hands for four years more by the lease, with
+half the stock on it dead, or sold off one by one to pay the more
+pressing debts, and with no money to purchase more, or even to buy the
+provisions needed for the small consumption of every day. There was
+another child coming, too; and sad and sorry, I believe, she was to
+think of it. A dreary winter she must have had in her lonesome
+dwelling, with never another near it for miles around; her sister came
+to bear her company, and they two planned and plotted how to make every
+penny they could raise go as far as possible. I can’t tell you how it
+happened that my little sister, whom I never saw, came to sicken and
+die; but, as if my poor mother’s cup was not full enough, only a
+fortnight before Gregory was born the little girl took ill of scarlet
+fever, and in a week she lay dead. My mother was, I believe, just
+stunned with this last blow. My aunt has told me that she did not cry;
+aunt Fanny would have been thankful if she had; but she sat holding the
+poor wee lassie’s hand and looking in her pretty, pale, dead face,
+without so much as shedding a tear. And it was all the same, when they
+had to take her away to be buried. She just kissed the child, and sat
+her down in the window-seat to watch the little black train of people
+(neighbours—my aunt, and one far-off cousin, who were all the friends
+they could muster) go winding away amongst the snow, which had fallen
+thinly over the country the night before. When my aunt came back from
+the funeral, she found my mother in the same place, and as dry-eyed as
+ever. So she continued until after Gregory was born; and, somehow, his
+coming seemed to loosen the tears, and she cried day and night, till my
+aunt and the other watcher looked at each other in dismay, and would
+fain have stopped her if they had but known how. But she bade them let
+her alone, and not be over-anxious, for every drop she shed eased her
+brain, which had been in a terrible state before for want of the power
+to cry. She seemed after that to think of nothing but her new little
+baby; she had hardly appeared to remember either her husband or her
+little daughter that lay dead in Brigham churchyard—at least so aunt
+Fanny said, but she was a great talker, and my mother was very silent
+by nature, and I think aunt Fanny may have been mistaken in believing
+that my mother never thought of her husband and child just because she
+never spoke about them. Aunt Fanny was older than my mother, and had a
+way of treating her like a child; but, for all that, she was a kind,
+warm-hearted creature, who thought more of her sister’s welfare than
+she did of her own and it was on her bit of money that they principally
+lived, and on what the two could earn by working for the great Glasgow
+sewing-merchants. But by-and-by my mother’s eye-sight began to fail. It
+was not that she was exactly blind, for she could see well enough to
+guide herself about the house, and to do a good deal of domestic work;
+but she could no longer do fine sewing and earn money. It must have
+been with the heavy crying she had had in her day, for she was but a
+young creature at this time, and as pretty a young woman, I have heard
+people say, as any on the country side. She took it sadly to heart that
+she could no longer gain anything towards the keep of herself and her
+child. My aunt Fanny would fain have persuaded her that she had enough
+to do in managing their cottage and minding Gregory; but my mother knew
+that they were pinched, and that aunt Fanny herself had not as much to
+eat, even of the commonest kind of food, as she could have done with;
+and as for Gregory, he was not a strong lad, and needed, not more
+food—for he always had enough, whoever went short—but better
+nourishment, and more flesh-meat. One day—it was aunt Fanny who told me
+all this about my poor mother, long after her death—as the sisters were
+sitting together, aunt Fanny working, and my mother hushing Gregory to
+sleep, William Preston, who was afterwards my father, came in. He was
+reckoned an old bachelor; I suppose he was long past forty, and he was
+one of the wealthiest farmers thereabouts, and had known my grandfather
+well, and my mother and my aunt in their more prosperous days. He sat
+down, and began to twirl his hat by way of being agreeable; my aunt
+Fanny talked, and he listened and looked at my mother. But he said very
+little, either on that visit, or on many another that he paid before he
+spoke out what had been the real purpose of his calling so often all
+along, and from the very first time he came to their house. One Sunday,
+however, my aunt Fanny stayed away from church, and took care of the
+child, and my mother went alone. When she came back, she ran straight
+upstairs, without going into the kitchen to look at Gregory or speak
+any word to her sister, and aunt Fanny heard her cry as if her heart
+was breaking; so she went up and scolded her right well through the
+bolted door, till at last she got her to open it. And then she threw
+herself on my aunt’s neck, and told her that William Preston had asked
+her to marry him, and had promised to take good charge of her boy, and
+to let him want for nothing, neither in the way of keep nor of
+education, and that she had consented. Aunt Fanny was a good deal
+shocked at this; for, as I have said, she had often thought that my
+mother had forgotten her first husband very quickly, and now here was
+proof positive of it, if she could so soon think of marrying again.
+Besides as aunt Fanny used to say, she herself would have been a far
+more suitable match for a man of William Preston’s age than Helen, who,
+though she was a widow, had not seen her four-and-twentieth summer.
+However, as aunt Fanny said, they had not asked her advice; and there
+was much to be said on the other side of the question. Helen’s eyesight
+would never be good for much again, and as William Preston’s wife she
+would never need to do anything, if she chose to sit with her hands
+before her; and a boy was a great charge to a widowed mother; and now
+there would be a decent steady man to see after him. So, by-and-by,
+aunt Fanny seemed to take a brighter view of the marriage than did my
+mother herself, who hardly ever looked up, and never smiled after the
+day when she promised William Preston to be his wife. But much as she
+had loved Gregory before, she seemed to love him more now. She was
+continually talking to him when they were alone, though he was far too
+young to understand her moaning words, or give her any comfort, except
+by his caresses.
+
+At last William Preston and she were wed; and she went to be mistress
+of a well-stocked house, not above half-an-hour’s walk from where aunt
+Fanny lived. I believe she did all that she could to please my father;
+and a more dutiful wife, I have heard him himself say, could never have
+been. But she did not love him, and he soon found it out. She loved
+Gregory, and she did not love him. Perhaps, love would have come in
+time, if he had been patient enough to wait; but it just turned him
+sour to see how her eye brightened and her colour came at the sight of
+that little child, while for him who had given her so much, she had
+only gentle words as cold as ice. He got to taunt her with the
+difference in her manner, as if that would bring love: and he took a
+positive dislike to Gregory,—he was so jealous of the ready love that
+always gushed out like a spring of fresh water when he came near. He
+wanted her to love him more, and perhaps that was all well and good;
+but he wanted her to love her child less, and that was an evil wish.
+One day, he gave way to his temper, and cursed and swore at Gregory,
+who had got into some mischief, as children will; my mother made some
+excuse for him; my father said it was hard enough to have to keep
+another man’s child, without having it perpetually held up in its
+naughtiness by his wife, who ought to be always in the same mind that
+he was; and so from little they got to more; and the end of it was,
+that my mother took to her bed before her time, and I was born that
+very day. My father was glad, and proud, and sorry, all in a breath;
+glad and proud that a son was born to him; and sorry for his poor
+wife’s state, and to think how his angry words had brought it on. But
+he was a man who liked better to be angry than sorry, so he soon found
+out that it was all Gregory’s fault, and owed him an additional grudge
+for having hastened my birth. He had another grudge against him before
+long. My mother began to sink the day after I was born. My father sent
+to Carlisle for doctors, and would have coined his heart’s blood into
+gold to save her, if that could have been; but it could not. My aunt
+Fanny used to say sometimes, that she thought that Helen did not wish
+to live, and so just let herself die away without trying to take hold
+on life; but when I questioned her, she owned that my mother did all
+the doctors bade her do, with the same sort of uncomplaining patience
+with which she had acted through life. One of her last requests was to
+have Gregory laid in her bed by my side, and then she made him take
+hold of my little hand. Her husband came in while she was looking at us
+so, and when he bent tenderly over her to ask her how she felt now, and
+seemed to gaze on us two little half-brothers, with a grave sort of
+kindness, she looked up in his face and smiled, almost her first smile
+at him; and such a sweet smile! as more besides aunt Fanny have said.
+In an hour she was dead. Aunt Fanny came to live with us. It was the
+best thing that could be done. My father would have been glad to return
+to his old mode of bachelor life, but what could he do with two little
+children? He needed a woman to take care of him, and who so fitting as
+his wife’s elder sister? So she had the charge of me from my birth; and
+for a time I was weakly, as was but natural, and she was always beside
+me, night and day watching over me, and my father nearly as anxious as
+she. For his land had come down from father to son for more than three
+hundred years, and he would have cared for me merely as his flesh and
+blood that was to inherit the land after him. But he needed something
+to love, for all that, to most people, he was a stern, hard man, and he
+took to me as, I fancy, he had taken to no human being before—as he
+might have taken to my mother, if she had had no former life for him to
+be jealous of. I loved him back again right heartily. I loved all
+around me, I believe, for everybody was kind to me. After a time, I
+overcame my original weakness of constitution, and was just a bonny,
+strong-looking lad whom every passer-by noticed, when my father took me
+with him to the nearest town.
+
+At home I was the darling of my aunt, the tenderly-beloved of my
+father, the pet and plaything of the old domestics, the “young master”
+of the farm-labourers, before whom I played many a lordly antic,
+assuming a sort of authority which sat oddly enough, I doubt not, on
+such a baby as I was.
+
+Gregory was three years older than I. Aunt Fanny was always kind to him
+in deed and in action, but she did not often think about him, she had
+fallen so completely into the habit of being engrossed by me, from the
+fact of my having come into her charge as a delicate baby. My father
+never got over his grudging dislike to his stepson, who had so
+innocently wrestled with him for the possession of my mother’s heart. I
+mistrust me, too, that my father always considered him as the cause of
+my mother’s death and my early delicacy; and utterly unreasonable as
+this may seem, I believe my father rather cherished his feeling of
+alienation to my brother as a duty, than strove to repress it. Yet not
+for the world would my father have grudged him anything that money
+could purchase. That was, as it were, in the bond when he had wedded my
+mother. Gregory was lumpish and loutish, awkward and ungainly, marring
+whatever he meddled in, and many a hard word and sharp scolding did he
+get from the people about the farm, who hardly waited till my father’s
+back was turned before they rated the stepson. I am ashamed—my heart is
+sore to think how I fell into the fashion of the family, and slighted
+my poor orphan step-brother. I don’t think I ever scouted him, or was
+wilfully ill-natured to him; but the habit of being considered in all
+things, and being treated as something uncommon and superior, made me
+insolent in my prosperity, and I exacted more than Gregory was always
+willing to grant, and then, irritated, I sometimes repeated the
+disparaging words I had heard others use with regard to him, without
+fully understanding their meaning. Whether he did or not I cannot tell.
+I am afraid he did. He used to turn silent and quiet—sullen and sulky,
+my father thought it: stupid, aunt Fanny used to call it. But every one
+said he was stupid and dull, and this stupidity and dullness grew upon
+him. He would sit without speaking a word, sometimes, for hours; then
+my father would bid him rise and do some piece of work, maybe, about
+the farm. And he would take three or four tellings before he would go.
+When we were sent to school, it was all the same. He could never be
+made to remember his lessons; the school-master grew weary of scolding
+and flogging, and at last advised my father just to take him away, and
+set him to some farm-work that might not be above his comprehension. I
+think he was more gloomy and stupid than ever after this, yet he was
+not a cross lad; he was patient and good-natured, and would try to do a
+kind turn for any one, even if they had been scolding or cuffing him
+not a minute before. But very often his attempts at kindness ended in
+some mischief to the very people he was trying to serve, owing to his
+awkward, ungainly ways. I suppose I was a clever lad; at any rate, I
+always got plenty of praise; and was, as we called it, the cock of the
+school. The schoolmaster said I could learn anything I chose, but my
+father, who had no great learning himself, saw little use in much for
+me, and took me away betimes, and kept me with him about the farm.
+Gregory was made into a kind of shepherd, receiving his training under
+old Adam, who was nearly past his work. I think old Adam was almost the
+first person who had a good opinion of Gregory. He stood to it that my
+brother had good parts, though he did not rightly know how to bring
+them out; and, for knowing the bearings of the Fells, he said he had
+never seen a lad like him. My father would try to bring Adam round to
+speak of Gregory’s faults and shortcomings; but, instead of that, he
+would praise him twice as much, as soon as he found out what was my
+father’s object.
+
+One winter-time, when I was about sixteen, and Gregory nineteen, I was
+sent by my father on an errand to a place about seven miles distant by
+the road, but only about four by the Fells. He bade me return by the
+road, whichever way I took in going, for the evenings closed in early,
+and were often thick and misty; besides which, old Adam, now paralytic
+and bedridden, foretold a downfall of snow before long. I soon got to
+my journey’s end, and soon had done my business; earlier by an hour, I
+thought, than my father had expected, so I took the decision of the way
+by which I would return into my own hands, and set off back again over
+the Fells, just as the first shades of evening began to fall. It looked
+dark and gloomy enough; but everything was so still that I thought I
+should have plenty of time to get home before the snow came down. Off I
+set at a pretty quick pace. But night came on quicker. The right path
+was clear enough in the day-time, although at several points two or
+three exactly similar diverged from the same place; but when there was
+a good light, the traveller was guided by the sight of distant
+objects,—a piece of rock,—a fall in the ground—which were quite
+invisible to me now. I plucked up a brave heart, however, and took what
+seemed to me the right road. It was wrong, nevertheless, and led me
+whither I knew not, but to some wild boggy moor where the solitude
+seemed painful, intense, as if never footfall of man had come thither
+to break the silence. I tried to shout—with the dimmest possible hope
+of being heard—rather to reassure myself by the sound of my own voice;
+but my voice came husky and short, and yet it dismayed me; it seemed so
+weird and strange, in that noiseless expanse of black darkness.
+Suddenly the air was filled thick with dusky flakes, my face and hands
+were wet with snow. It cut me off from the slightest knowledge of where
+I was, for I lost every idea of the direction from which I had come, so
+that I could not even retrace my steps; it hemmed me in, thicker,
+thicker, with a darkness that might be felt. The boggy soil on which I
+stood quaked under me if I remained long in one place, and yet I dared
+not move far. All my youthful hardiness seemed to leave me at once. I
+was on the point of crying, and only very shame seemed to keep it down.
+To save myself from shedding tears, I shouted—terrible, wild shouts for
+bare life they were. I turned sick as I paused to listen; no answering
+sound came but the unfeeling echoes. Only the noiseless, pitiless snow
+kept falling thicker, thicker—faster, faster! I was growing numb and
+sleepy. I tried to move about, but I dared not go far, for fear of the
+precipices which, I knew, abounded in certain places on the Fells. Now
+and then, I stood still and shouted again; but my voice was getting
+choked with tears, as I thought of the desolate helpless death I was to
+die, and how little they at home, sitting round the warm, red, bright
+fire, wotted what was become of me,—and how my poor father would grieve
+for me—it would surely kill him—it would break his heart, poor old man!
+Aunt Fanny too—was this to be the end of all her cares for me? I began
+to review my life in a strange kind of vivid dream, in which the
+various scenes of my few boyish years passed before me like visions. In
+a pang of agony, caused by such remembrance of my short life, I
+gathered up my strength and called out once more, a long, despairing,
+wailing cry, to which I had no hope of obtaining any answer, save from
+the echoes around, dulled as the sound might be by the thickened air.
+To my surprise I heard a cry—almost as long, as wild as mine—so wild
+that it seemed unearthly, and I almost thought it must be the voice of
+some of the mocking spirits of the Fells, about whom I had heard so
+many tales. My heart suddenly began to beat fast and loud. I could not
+reply for a minute or two. I nearly fancied I had lost the power of
+utterance. Just at this moment a dog barked. Was it Lassie’s bark—my
+brother’s collie?—an ugly enough brute, with a white, ill-looking face,
+that my father always kicked whenever he saw it, partly for its own
+demerits, partly because it belonged to my brother. On such occasions,
+Gregory would whistle Lassie away, and go off and sit with her in some
+outhouse. My father had once or twice been ashamed of himself, when the
+poor collie had yowled out with the suddenness of the pain, and had
+relieved himself of his self-reproach by blaming my brother, who, he
+said, had no notion of training a dog, and was enough to ruin any
+collie in Christendom with his stupid way of allowing them to lie by
+the kitchen fire. To all which Gregory would answer nothing, nor even
+seem to hear, but go on looking absent and moody.
+
+Yes! there again! It was Lassie’s bark! Now or never! I lifted up my
+voice and shouted “Lassie! Lassie! for God’s sake, Lassie!” Another
+moment, and the great white-faced Lassie was curving and gambolling
+with delight round my feet and legs, looking, however, up in my face
+with her intelligent, apprehensive eyes, as if fearing lest I might
+greet her with a blow, as I had done oftentimes before. But I cried
+with gladness, as I stooped down and patted her. My mind was sharing in
+my body’s weakness, and I could not reason, but I knew that help was at
+hand. A gray figure came more and more distinctly out of the thick,
+close-pressing darkness. It was Gregory wrapped in his maud.
+
+“Oh, Gregory!” said I, and I fell upon his neck, unable to speak
+another word. He never spoke much, and made me no answer for some
+little time. Then he told me we must move, we must walk for the dear
+life—we must find our road home, if possible; but we must move, or we
+should be frozen to death.
+
+“Don’t you know the way home?” asked I.
+
+“I thought I did when I set out, but I am doubtful now. The snow blinds
+me, and I am feared that in moving about just now, I have lost the
+right gait homewards.”
+
+He had his shepherd’s staff with him, and by dint of plunging it before
+us at every step we took—clinging close to each other, we went on
+safely enough, as far as not falling down any of the steep rocks, but
+it was slow, dreary work. My brother, I saw, was more guided by Lassie
+and the way she took than anything else, trusting to her instinct. It
+was too dark to see far before us; but he called her back continually,
+and noted from what quarter she returned, and shaped our slow steps
+accordingly. But the tedious motion scarcely kept my very blood from
+freezing. Every bone, every fibre in my body seemed first to ache, and
+then to swell, and then to turn numb with the intense cold. My brother
+bore it better than I, from having been more out upon the hills. He did
+not speak, except to call Lassie. I strove to be brave, and not
+complain; but now I felt the deadly fatal sleep stealing over me.
+
+“I can go no farther,” I said, in a drowsy tone. I remember I suddenly
+became dogged and resolved. Sleep I would, were it only for five
+minutes. If death were to be the consequence, sleep I would. Gregory
+stood still. I suppose, he recognized the peculiar phase of suffering
+to which I had been brought by the cold.
+
+“It is of no use,” said he, as if to himself. “We are no nearer home
+than we were when we started, as far as I can tell. Our only chance is
+in Lassie. Here! roll thee in my maud, lad, and lay thee down on this
+sheltered side of this bit of rock. Creep close under it, lad, and I’ll
+lie by thee, and strive to keep the warmth in us. Stay! hast gotten
+aught about thee they’ll know at home?”
+
+I felt him unkind thus to keep me from slumber, but on his repeating
+the question, I pulled out my pocket-handkerchief, of some showy
+pattern, which Aunt Fanny had hemmed for me—Gregory took it, and tied
+it round Lassie’s neck.
+
+“Hie thee, Lassie, hie thee home!” And the white-faced ill-favoured
+brute was off like a shot in the darkness. Now I might lie down—now I
+might sleep. In my drowsy stupor I felt that I was being tenderly
+covered up by my brother; but what with I neither knew nor cared—I was
+too dull, too selfish, too numb to think and reason, or I might have
+known that in that bleak bare place there was nought to wrap me in,
+save what was taken off another. I was glad enough when he ceased his
+cares and lay down by me. I took his hand.
+
+“Thou canst not remember, lad, how we lay together thus by our dying
+mother. She put thy small, wee hand in mine—I reckon she sees us now;
+and belike we shall soon be with her. Anyhow, God’s will be done.”
+
+“Dear Gregory,” I muttered, and crept nearer to him for warmth. He was
+talking still, and again about our mother, when I fell asleep. In an
+instant—or so it seemed—there were many voices about me—many faces
+hovering round me—the sweet luxury of warmth was stealing into every
+part of me. I was in my own little bed at home. I am thankful to say,
+my first word was “Gregory?”
+
+A look passed from one to another—my father’s stern old face strove in
+vain to keep its sternness; his mouth quivered, his eyes filled slowly
+with unwonted tears.
+
+“I would have given him half my land—I would have blessed him as my
+son,—oh God! I would have knelt at his feet, and asked him to forgive
+my hardness of heart.”
+
+I heard no more. A whirl came through my brain, catching me back to
+death.
+
+I came slowly to my consciousness, weeks afterwards. My father’s hair
+was white when I recovered, and his hands shook as he looked into my
+face.
+
+We spoke no more of Gregory. We could not speak of him; but he was
+strangely in our thoughts. Lassie came and went with never a word of
+blame; nay, my father would try to stroke her, but she shrank away; and
+he, as if reproved by the poor dumb beast, would sigh, and be silent
+and abstracted for a time.
+
+Aunt Fanny—always a talker—told me all. How, on that fatal night, my
+father,—irritated by my prolonged absence, and probably more anxious
+than he cared to show, had been fierce and imperious, even beyond his
+wont, to Gregory; had upbraided him with his father’s poverty, his own
+stupidity which made his services good for nothing—for so, in spite of
+the old shepherd, my father always chose to consider them. At last,
+Gregory had risen up, and whistled Lassie out with him—poor Lassie,
+crouching underneath his chair for fear of a kick or a blow. Some time
+before, there had been some talk between my father and my aunt
+respecting my return; and when aunt Fanny told me all this, she said
+she fancied that Gregory might have noticed the coming storm, and gone
+out silently to meet me. Three hours afterwards, when all were running
+about in wild alarm, not knowing whither to go in search of me—not even
+missing Gregory, or heeding his absence, poor fellow—poor, poor
+fellow!—Lassie came home, with my handkerchief tied round her neck.
+They knew and understood, and the whole strength of the farm was turned
+out to follow her, with wraps, and blankets, and brandy, and every
+thing that could be thought of. I lay in chilly sleep, but still alive,
+beneath the rock that Lassie guided them to. I was covered over with my
+brother’s plaid, and his thick shepherd’s coat was carefully wrapped
+round my feet. He was in his shirt-sleeves—his arm thrown over me—a
+quiet smile (he had hardly ever smiled in life) upon his still, cold
+face.
+
+My father’s last words were, “God forgive me my hardness of heart
+towards the fatherless child!”
+
+And what marked the depth of his feeling of repentance, perhaps more
+than all, considering the passionate love he bore my mother, was this:
+we found a paper of directions after his death, in which he desired
+that he might lie at the foot of the grave, in which, by his desire,
+poor Gregory had been laid with OUR MOTHER.
+
+
+
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