Wuthering Heights

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

Wuthering Heights



CHAPTER I



1801. - I have just returned from a visit to my landlord - the
solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with.  This is
certainly a beautiful country!  In all England, I do not believe
that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from
the stir of society.  A perfect misanthropist's heaven:  and Mr.
Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation
between us.  A capital fellow!  He little imagined how my heart
warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so
suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers
sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in
his waistcoat, as I announced my name.

'Mr. Heathcliff?' I said.

A nod was the answer.

'Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir.  I do myself the honour of
calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope
that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting
the occupation of Thrushcross Grange:  I heard yesterday you had
had some thoughts - '

'Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,' he interrupted, wincing.  'I
should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it
- walk in!'

The 'walk in' was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the
sentiment, 'Go to the Deuce:' even the gate over which he leant
manifested no sympathising movement to the words; and I think that
circumstance determined me to accept the invitation:  I felt
interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than
myself.

When he saw my horse's breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did
put out his hand to unchain it, and then sullenly preceded me up
the causeway, calling, as we entered the court, - 'Joseph, take Mr.
Lockwood's horse; and bring up some wine.'

'Here we have the whole establishment of domestics, I suppose,' was
the reflection suggested by this compound order.  'No wonder the
grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedge-
cutters.'

Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man:  very old, perhaps, though
hale and sinewy.  'The Lord help us!' he soliloquised in an
undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse:
looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably
conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner,
and his pious ejaculation had no reference to my unexpected advent.

Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff's dwelling.
'Wuthering' being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive
of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy
weather.  Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all
times, indeed:  one may guess the power of the north wind blowing
over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the
end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching
their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun.  Happily, the
architect had foresight to build it strong:  the narrow windows are
deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting
stones.

Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of
grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the
principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling
griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date '1500,' and
the name 'Hareton Earnshaw.'  I would have made a few comments, and
requested a short history of the place from the surly owner; but
his attitude at the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance, or
complete departure, and I had no desire to aggravate his impatience
previous to inspecting the penetralium.

One stop brought us into the family sitting-room, without any
introductory lobby or passage:  they call it here 'the house' pre-
eminently.  It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I
believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat
altogether into another quarter:  at least I distinguished a
chatter of tongues, and a clatter of culinary utensils, deep
within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking,
about the huge fireplace; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and
tin cullenders on the walls.  One end, indeed, reflected splendidly
both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes,
interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row,
on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof.  The latter had never been
under-drawn:  its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye,
except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of
legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it.  Above the chimney
were sundry villainous old guns, and a couple of horse-pistols:
and, by way of ornament, three gaudily-painted canisters disposed
along its ledge.  The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs,