CHAPTER XVI

THE WASHER OF THE FORD

Owing to the publication of _The Sin-Eater_ by a firm identified with the Scoto-Celtic movement the book attracted immediate attention. Dr. Douglas Hyde voiced the Irish feeling when he wrote to my husband: “I think Fiona Macleod’s books the most interesting thing in the new Scoto-Celtic movement, which I hope will march side by side with our own.” This movement was according to William Sharp “fundamentally the outcome of Ossian, and immediately of the rising of the sap in the Irish nation.” Following on the incentive given by such scholars as Windische, Whitly Stokes, Kuno Meyer, and the various Folklore societies, a Gaelic League had been formed by enthusiasts in Ireland, and in Scotland, for the preservation and teaching of the old Celtic tongue; for the study of the old literatures of which priceless treasures lay untouched in both countries, and for the encouragement of natural racial talent. Wales had succeeded in recovering the use of her Cymric tongue; and the expression in music of racial sentiment had become widespread throughout that country. Ireland and the Highlands looked forward to attaining to a similar result; and efforts to that end were set agoing in schools, in classes, by means of such organisations as the Irish Feis Ceoil Committee, the Irish Literary Society and the Irish National Theatre. Their aim was to preserve some utterance of the national life, to mould some new kind of romance, some new element of thought, out of Irish life and traditions. Among the most eager workers were Dr. Douglas Hyde, Mr. W. B. Yeats, Mr. Standish O’Grady, Mr. George Russell (A.E.), Dr. George Sigerson, and Lady Gregory.

In Scotland much valuable work had been done by such men as Campbell of Islay, Cameron of Brodick, Mr. Alexander Carmichael; by the Gaelic League and the Highland Mod and its yearly gatherings. There were writers and poets also who used the old language and were consequently known within only a small area. No conspicuous modern Celtic work had hitherto been written in the English tongue until the appearance of the writings of Fiona Macleod, and later of Mr. Neil Munro. _The Sin-Eater_ was therefore warmly welcomed on both sides of the Irish Channel, and Fiona Macleod, acclaimed as the leading representative of the Highland Gael, “our one and only Highland novelist.” _The Irish Independent_ pronounced her to be “the poet born,” “her work is pure romance—and she strikes a strange note in modern literature, but it has the spirit of the Celt, and is another triumph for the Celtic genius.”

In consequence of this reception, and of a special article in _The Bookman_, speculations began to be made concerning the unknown and unseen authoress. _The Highland News_ in pursuance of its desire to awake in the Highlands of Scotland an active sympathy with the growing Scoto-Celtic movement, was anxious to give some details concerning the new writer. To that end Mr. John Macleay wrote to William Sharp to ask if “considering your relation towards Miss Macleod, you might be able to tell me where I could obtain any personal information about her.” In reply, a few sparse notes were sent; the author in question was said to have passed her girlhood in the West Highlands; her tastes, her dislike of towns and her love of seclusion, were among the characteristics described.

When, early in 1896, _The Highland News_ wrote to several authors to ask their views on the subject of Literature in the Highlands, Mr. Grant Allen, Mrs. Katherine Tynan Hinkson, Fiona Macleod and William Sharp were among those writers whose letters, expressive of interest and sympathy, were published.

The two letters contributed by my husband were written necessarily, each from a slightly different standpoint. He welcomed the opportunity of appearing in print in the two characters for he believed that it would help to shield the secret concerning Fiona Macleod.

The publication by P. Geddes & Coll. of _The Washer of the Ford_—a collection of Tales and Legendary Moralities—aroused a fresh outbreak of curiosity. For instance, a sensational article appeared in _The Highland News_ on the vexed question of the identity of the Highland writer, headed: “Mystery! Mystery! All in a Celtic Haze.”

According to it: “Highland Celts in Glasgow are, I hear, hot on the scent of what they imagine to be a female James Macpherson. This, of course, is Miss Fiona Macleod. The way which Miss Macleod has led our Glasgow countrymen is strange indeed, and the literary detective has been busy. In the first place, it is asserted that Miss Fiona Macleod does not exist. No one seems to have seen her. One gentleman called twice at her residence in Edinburgh, and Miss Macleod was out. She has written about Iona, but again in that well watched place her name is unknown. The natural inference, you will admit, is that there is something here to be “fahnd aht,” as the Englishman says. Seeing that the non-existence of Miss Fiona Macleod has been thus established, the next point is who wrote those books to which that name is attached. Now, Mr. William Sharp has declared himself to be Miss Fiona Macleod’s uncle; he has, too, interested himself in Celtic things. Isn’t it the second natural inference that he has written the books? But Mr. Sharp has specifically denied the authorship. Then, of course, it must be Mr. and Mrs. Sharp in collaboration. But again comes denial. Mr. Sharp has addressed the following note to the Glasgow “Evening News,” which has been somewhat persistent in casting doubt on the existence of Miss Macleod—“Miss Fiona Macleod is not Mr. William Sharp, Miss Fiona Macleod is not Mrs. William Sharp, Miss Fiona Macleod is—Miss Fiona Macleod.” The persecuted author was much disturbed by this effort to draw Fiona Macleod into a controversy, to force her to declare herself. Not only was he indignant at what to him was an unwarrantable interference with the privacy of the individual, and resented the traps that were laid to catch the author should “she” be ‘unwary,’ it was instrumental also in making him much more determined to guard his secret at all costs. During the months of controversy the subject of it accomplished a considerable amount of work.

He collaborated with me in the preparation of an Anthology of Celtic Poetry; prepared an edition of _Ossian_ (P. Geddes & Coll.) for which he wrote a long introduction; and began to work upon a humourous novel, not, however, finished until 1898.

As F. M. he published _The Washer of the Ford_ in April, wrote _Green Fire_, and also a number of Poems, which were subsequently included in _From the Hills of Dream_. His Diary for the New Year has this entry:

_“Jany 7th, 1896._ _The British Weekly_ has a paragraph given under all reserve that Fiona Macleod is Mrs. William Sharp. Have written—as W. S.—to Dr. R. Nicoll and to Mrs. Macdonell of _The Bookman_ to deny this authoritatively.”

From the first we decided that it would be advisable to admit that F. M. was my cousin, also, that my husband acted as her adviser and ‘right hand’ in the matter of publishing.

The arrangements for the two first books were made by W. S. in person. No such precautions were necessary for the books brought out by P. Geddes & Col. as the head of the firm was in the secret. But, as it was well known in Edinburgh and elsewhere that William Sharp was keenly interested in the ‘Celtic Movement,’ he thought it well to collaborate with me on an Anthology of Celtic Poetry entitled _Lyra Celtica_ (and published by the firm), for which he prepared an Introduction and Notes.

On the 6th January, in a letter to Mrs. William Rossetti he wrote “Just back from France where I went so far with my wife on her way to Central Italy. Her health has given way, alas, and she has been sent out from this killing climate for 3 or 4 months at any rate.”

At the end of January he wrote to me:

“Only a brief line to thank you for your letter about _me_ and _Fiona_. Every word you say is true and urgent, and even if I did not know it to be so I would pay the most searching heed to any advice from you, in whose insight and judgment mentally as well as spiritually I have such deep confidence. Although in the main I had come to exactly the same standpoint I was wavering before certain alluring avenues of thought.... If I live to be an elderly man, time enough for one or more of my big philosophical and critical works. Meanwhile—the flame!

The only thing of the kind I will now do—and that not this year—will be the “Introduction to the Study of Celtic Literature”: but for that I have the material to hand, and shall largely use in magazines first.... Well, we shall begin at once! February will be wholly given over to finishing _Wives in Exile_ and _The Washer of the Ford_.”

On the 1st February he left town and settled down to work at the Pettycur Inn, Kinghorn, Fife. His Diary gives the following record of work:

“_Feb. 3rd._ Wrote the Preface to _The Washer of the Ford_.

“_Feb. 7th._ Dictated (1750 words) article on Modern Romantic Art, for the Glasgow Herald—Also _World_ article.

“_Feb. 9th._ Wrote ‘The Festival of the Birds.’

“_Feb. 10th._ Glasgow Herald Article (1500 words) on The Art of the Goldsmith, and wrote ‘The Blessing of the Fishes.’”

* * * * *

In the middle of February William had written to Mr. R. Murray Gilchrist, one of the few friends who then knew the secret of the pseudonym:

MY DEAR GILCHRIST,

Fiona Macleod has suddenly begun to attract a great deal of attention. There have been leaders as well as long and important reviews: and now the chief North of Scotland paper, _The Highland News_, is printing two long articles devoted in a most eulogistic way to F. M. and her influence “already so marked and so vital, so that we accept her as the leader of the Celtic Renaissance in Scotland.” There is, also, I hear, to be a Magazine article on her. This last week there have been long and favourable reviews in the _Academy_ and _The New Age_.

I am glad you like my other book, I mean W. S’s! [_Ecce Puella_] There are things in it which are as absolutely out of my real self as it is possible to be: and I am glad that you recognise this. I have not yet seen my book of short stories published in America under the title _The Gypsy Christ_, though it has been out some weeks: and I have heard from one or two people about it. America is more indulgent to me just now than I deserve. For a leading American critic writes of _The Gypsy Christ_ that, “though it will offend some people and displease others, it is one of the most remarkable volumes I have read for long. The titular story has an extraordinary, even a dreadful impressiveness: ‘Madge o’ the Pool’ is more realistic than ‘realism’: and alike in the scathing society love-episode, ‘The Lady in Hosea,’ and in that brilliant Algerian _conte_, ‘The Coward,’ the author suggests the method and power of Guy de Maupassant.”

I hope to get the book soon, and to send you a copy. As I think I told you, the setting of the G/C is entirely that which I knew through you. I have made use of one or two features—exaggerated facts and half facts—which I trust will not displease you. Do you remember my feeling about those gaunt mine-chimneys: I always think of them now when I think of the G/C. Fundamentally, however, the story goes back to my own early experiences—not as to the _facts_ of the story, of course.... Then again, Arthur Sherburne Hardy, who is by many considered the St. Beuve of American criticism—in surety and insight—has given his opinion of a