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Chapter5
Fiveo’clockhadhardlystruckonthemorningofthe19thofJanuary,whenBessiebroughtacandleintomyclosetandfoundmealreadyupandnearlydressed.Ihadrisenhalf-an-hourbeforeherentrance,andhadwashedmyface,andputonmyclothesbythelightofahalf-moonjustsetting,whoseraysstreamedthroughthenarrowwindownearmycrib.IwastoleaveGatesheadthatdaybyacoachwhichpassedthelodgegatesatsixa.m.Bessiewastheonlypersonyetrisen;shehadlitafireinthenursery,whereshenowproceededtomakemybreakfast.Fewchildrencaneatwhenexcitedwiththethoughtsofajourney;norcouldI.Bessie,havingpressedmeinvaintotakeafewspoonfulsoftheboiledmilkandbreadshehadpreparedforme,wrappedupsomebiscuitsinapaperandputthemintomybag;thenshehelpedmeonwithmypelisseandbonnet,andwrappingherselfinashawl,sheandIleftthenursery.AswepassedMrs.Reed’sbedroom,shesaid,“WillyougoinandbidMissisgood-bye?”
“No,Bessie:shecametomycriblastnightwhenyouweregonedowntosupper,andsaidIneednotdisturbherinthemorning,ormycousinseither;andshetoldmetorememberthatshehadalwaysbeenmybestfriend,andtospeakofherandbegratefultoheraccordingly.”
“Whatdidyousay,Miss?”
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“Nothing:Icoveredmyfacewiththebedclothes,andturnedfromhertothewall.”
“Thatwaswrong,MissJane.”
“Itwasquiteright,Bessie.YourMissishasnotbeenmyfriend:shehasbeenmyfoe.”
“OMissJane!don’tsayso!”
“Good-byetoGateshead!”criedI,aswepassedthroughthehallandwentoutatthefrontdoor.
Themoonwasset,anditwasverydark;Bessiecarriedalantern,whoselightglancedonwetstepsandgravelroadsoddenbyarecentthaw.Rawandchillwasthewintermorning:myteethchatteredasIhasteneddownthedrive.Therewasalightintheporter’slodge:whenwereachedit,wefoundtheporter’swifejustkindlingherfire:mytrunk,whichhadbeencarrieddowntheeveningbefore,stoodcordedatthedoor.Itwantedbutafewminutesofsix,andshortlyafterthathourhadstruck,thedistantrollofwheelsannouncedthecomingcoach;Iwenttothedoorandwatcheditslampsapproachrapidlythroughthegloom.
“Isshegoingbyherself?”askedtheporter’swife.“Yes.”
“Andhowfarisit?”
“Fiftymiles.”
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“Whatalongway!IwonderMrs.Reedisnotafraidtotrusthersofaralone.”
Thecoachdrewup;thereitwasatthegateswithitsfourhorsesanditstopladenwithpassengers:theguardandcoachmanloudlyurgedhaste;mytrunkwashoistedup;IwastakenfromBessie’sneck,towhichIclungwithkisses.
“Besureandtakegoodcareofher,”criedshetotheguard,asheliftedmeintotheinside.
“Ay,ay!”wastheanswer:thedoorwasslappedto,avoiceexclaimed“Allright,”andonwedrove.ThuswasIseveredfromBessieandGateshead;thuswhirledawaytounknown,and,asIthendeemed,remoteandmysteriousregions.
Irememberbutlittleofthejourney;Ionlyknowthatthedayseemedtomeofapreternaturallength,andthatweappearedtotraveloverhundredsofmilesofroad.Wepassedthroughseveraltowns,andinone,averylargeone,thecoachstopped;thehorsesweretakenout,andthepassengersalightedtodine.Iwascarriedintoaninn,wheretheguardwantedmetohavesomedinner;but,asIhadnoappetite,heleftmeinanimmenseroomwithafireplaceateachend,achandelierpendentfromtheceiling,andalittleredgalleryhighupagainstthewallfilledwithmusicalinstruments.HereIwalkedaboutforalongtime,feelingverystrange,andmortallyapprehensiveofsomeonecominginandkidnappingme;forIbelievedinkidnappers,theirexploitshavingfrequentlyfiguredin
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Bessie’sfiresidechronicles.Atlasttheguardreturned;oncemoreIwasstowedawayinthecoach,myprotectormountedhisownseat,soundedhishollowhorn,andawaywerattledoverthe“stonystreet”ofL-.
Theafternooncameonwetandsomewhatmisty:asitwanedintodusk,IbegantofeelthatweweregettingveryfarindeedfromGateshead:weceasedtopassthroughtowns;thecountrychanged;greatgreyhillsheaveduproundthehorizon:astwilightdeepened,wedescendedavalley,darkwithwood,andlongafternighthadovercloudedtheprospect,Iheardawildwindrushingamongsttrees.
Lulledbythesound,Iatlastdroppedasleep;Ihadnotlongslumberedwhenthesuddencessationofmotionawokeme;thecoach-doorwasopen,andapersonlikeaservantwasstandingatit:Isawherfaceanddressbythelightofthelamps.
“IstherealittlegirlcalledJaneEyrehere?”sheasked.Ianswered“Yes,”andwasthenliftedout;mytrunkwashandeddown,andthecoachinstantlydroveaway.
Iwasstiffwithlongsitting,andbewilderedwiththenoiseandmotionofthecoach:Gatheringmyfaculties,Ilookedaboutme.Rain,wind,anddarknessfilledtheair;nevertheless,Idimlydiscernedawallbeforemeandadooropeninit;throughthisdoorIpassedwithmynewguide:sheshutandlockeditbehindher.Therewasnowvisibleahouseorhouses—forthebuildingspreadfar—withmanywindows,andlightsburninginsome;wewentupabroadpebblypath,splashingwet,
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andwereadmittedatadoor;thentheservantledmethroughapassageintoaroomwithafire,wheresheleftmealone.
Istoodandwarmedmynumbedfingersovertheblaze,thenIlookedround;therewasnocandle,buttheuncertainlightfromthehearthshowed,byintervals,paperedwalls,carpet,curtains,shiningmahoganyfurniture:itwasaparlour,notsospaciousorsplendidasthedrawing-roomatGateshead,butcomfortableenough.Iwaspuzzlingtomakeoutthesubjectofapictureonthewall,whenthedooropened,andanindividualcarryingalightentered;anotherfollowedclosebehind.
Thefirstwasatallladywithdarkhair,darkeyes,andapaleandlargeforehead;herfigurewaspartlyenvelopedinashawl,hercountenancewasgrave,herbearingerect.
“Thechildisveryyoungtobesentalone,”saidshe,puttinghercandledownonthetable.Sheconsideredmeattentivelyforaminuteortwo,thenfurtheradded-
“Shehadbetterbeputtobedsoon;shelookstired:areyoutired?”sheasked,placingherhandonmy
shoulder.
“Alittle,ma’am.”
“Andhungrytoo,nodoubt:letherhavesomesupperbeforeshegoestobed,MissMiller.Isthisthefirsttime
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youhaveleftyourparentstocometoschool,mylittlegirl?”
IexplainedtoherthatIhadnoparents.Sheinquiredhowlongtheyhadbeendead:thenhowoldIwas,whatwasmyname,whetherIcouldread,write,andsewalittle:thenshetouchedmycheekgentlywithherforefinger,andsaying,“ShehopedIshouldbeagoodchild,”dismissedmealongwithMissMiller.
TheladyIhadleftmightbeabouttwenty-nine;theonewhowentwithmeappearedsomeyearsyounger:thefirstimpressedmebyhervoice,look,andair.MissMillerwasmoreordinary;ruddyincomplexion,thoughofacareworncountenance;hurriedingaitandaction,likeonewhohadalwaysamultiplicityoftasksonhand:shelooked,indeed,whatIafterwardsfoundshereallywas,anunder-teacher.Ledbyher,Ipassedfromcompartmenttocompartment,frompassagetopassage,ofalargeandirregularbuilding;till,emergingfromthetotalandsomewhatdrearysilencepervadingthatportionofthehousewehadtraversed,wecameuponthehumofmanyvoices,andpresentlyenteredawide,longroom,withgreatdealtables,twoateachend,oneachofwhichburntapairofcandles,andseatedallroundonbenches,acongregationofgirlsofeveryage,fromnineortentotwenty.Seenbythedimlightofthedips,theirnumbertomeappearedcountless,thoughnotinrealityexceedingeighty;theywereuniformlydressedinbrownstufffrocksofquaintfashion,andlonghollandpinafores.Itwasthehourofstudy;theywereengagedinconningovertheirto-
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morrow’stask,andthehumIhadheardwasthecombinedresultoftheirwhisperedrepetitions.
MissMillersignedtometositonabenchnearthedoor,thenwalkinguptothetopofthelongroomshecriedout-
“Monitors,collectthelesson-booksandputthemaway!Fourtallgirlsarosefromdifferenttables,andgoinground,gatheredthebooksandremovedthem.Miss
Milleragaingavethewordofcommand-
“Monitors,fetchthesupper-trays!”
Thetallgirlswentoutandreturnedpresently,eachbearingatray,withportionsofsomething,Iknewnotwhat,arrangedthereon,andapitcherofwaterandmuginthemiddleofeachtray.Theportionswerehandedround;thosewholikedtookadraughtofthewater,themugbeingcommontoall.Whenitcametomyturn,Idrank,forIwasthirsty,butdidnottouchthefood,excitementandfatiguerenderingmeincapableofeating:Inowsaw,however,thatitwasathinoatencakeshavedintofragments.
Themealover,prayerswerereadbyMissMiller,andtheclassesfiledoff,twoandtwo,upstairs.Overpoweredbythistimewithweariness,Iscarcelynoticedwhatsortofaplacethebedroomwas,exceptthat,liketheschoolroom,Isawitwasverylong.To-nightIwastobeMissMiller’sbed-fellow;shehelpedmetoundress:whenlaiddownIglancedatthelongrowsofbeds,eachofwhichwasquicklyfilledwithtwooccupants;in
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tenminutesthesinglelightwasextinguished,andamidstsilenceandcompletedarknessIfellasleep.
Thenightpassedrapidly.Iwastootiredeventodream;Ionlyonceawoketohearthewindraveinfuriousgusts,andtherainfallintorrents,andtobesensiblethatMissMillerhadtakenherplacebymyside.WhenIagainunclosedmyeyes,aloudbellwasringing;thegirlswereupanddressing;dayhadnotyetbeguntodawn,andarushlightortwoburnedintheroom.Itoorosereluctantly;itwasbittercold,andIdressedaswellasIcouldforshivering,andwashedwhentherewasabasinatliberty,whichdidnotoccursoon,astherewasbutonebasintosixgirls,onthestandsdownthemiddleoftheroom.Againthebellrang:allformedinfile,twoandtwo,andinthatorderdescendedthestairsandenteredthecoldanddimlylitschoolroom:hereprayerswerereadbyMissMiller;afterwardsshecalledout-
“Formclasses!”
Agreattumultsucceededforsomeminutes,duringwhichMissMillerrepeatedlyexclaimed,“Silence!”and“Order!”Whenitsubsided,Isawthemalldrawnupinfoursemicircles,beforefourchairs,placedatthefourtables;allheldbooksintheirhands,andagreatbook,likeaBible,layoneachtable,beforethevacantseat.Apauseofsomesecondssucceeded,filledupbythelow,vaguehumofnumbers;MissMillerwalkedfromclasstoclass,hushingthisindefinitesound.
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Adistantbelltinkled:immediatelythreeladiesenteredtheroom,eachwalkedtoatableandtookherseat.MissMillerassumedthefourthvacantchair,whichwasthatnearestthedoor,andaroundwhichthesmallestof
thechildrenwereassembled:tothisinferiorclassIwascalled,andplacedatthebottomofit.Businessnowbegan,theday’sCollectwasrepeated,thencertaintextsofScriptureweresaid,andtothesesucceededaprotractedreadingofchaptersintheBible,whichlastedanhour.Bythetimethatexercisewasterminated,dayhadfullydawned.Theindefatigable
bellnowsoundedforthefourthtime:theclassesweremarshalledandmarchedintoanotherroomto
breakfast:howgladIwastobeholdaprospectofgettingsomethingtoeat!Iwasnownearlysickfrominanition,havingtakensolittlethedaybefore.Therefectorywasagreat,low-ceiled,gloomyroom;ontwolongtablessmokedbasinsofsomethinghot,which,however,tomydismay,sentforthanodourfarfrominviting.Isawauniversalmanifestationofdiscontentwhenthefumesoftherepastmetthenostrilsofthosedestinedtoswallowit;fromthevanoftheprocession,thetallgirlsofthefirstclass,rosethewhisperedwords-“Disgusting!Theporridgeisburntagain!”“Silence!”ejaculatedavoice;notthatofMissMiller,butoneoftheupperteachers,alittleanddarkpersonage,smartlydressed,butofsomewhatmoroseaspect,whoinstalledherselfatthetopofonetable,
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whileamorebuxomladypresidedattheother.IlookedinvainforherIhadfirstseenthenightbefore;shewasnotvisible:MissMilleroccupiedthefootofthetablewhereIsat,andastrange,foreign-looking,elderlylady,theFrenchteacher,asIafterwardsfound,tookthecorrespondingseatattheotherboard.Alonggracewassaidandahymnsung;thenaservantbroughtinsometeafortheteachers,andthemealbegan.
Ravenous,andnowveryfaint,Idevouredaspoonfulortwoofmyportionwithoutthinkingofitstaste;butthefirstedgeofhungerblunted,IperceivedIhadgotinhandanauseousmess;burntporridgeisalmostasbadasrottenpotatoes;famineitselfsoonsickensoverit.Thespoonsweremovedslowly:Isaweachgirltasteherfoodandtrytoswallowit;butinmostcasestheeffortwassoonrelinquished.Breakfastwasover,andnonehadbreakfasted.Thanksbeingreturnedforwhatwehadnotgot,andasecondhymnchanted,therefectorywasevacuatedfortheschoolroom.Iwasoneofthelasttogoout,andinpassingthetables,Isawoneteachertakeabasinoftheporridgeandtasteit;shelookedattheothers;alltheircountenancesexpresseddispleasure,
andoneofthem,thestoutone,whispered-
“Abominablestuff!Howshameful!”
Aquarterofanhourpassedbeforelessonsagainbegan,duringwhichtheschoolroomwasinaglorioustumult;forthatspaceoftimeitseemedtobepermittedtotalkloudandmorefreely,andtheyusedtheirprivilege.Thewholeconversationranonthebreakfast,whichone
73
andallabusedroundly.Poorthings!itwasthesoleconsolationtheyhad.MissMillerwasnowtheonlyteacherintheroom:agroupofgreatgirlsstandingaboutherspokewithseriousandsullengestures.IheardthenameofMr.Brocklehurstpronouncedbysomelips;atwhichMissMillershookherheaddisapprovingly;butshemadenogreatefforttocheekthegeneralwrath;doubtlessshesharedinit.
Aclockintheschoolroomstrucknine;MissMillerlefthercircle,andstandinginthemiddleoftheroom,cried-
“Silence!Toyourseats!”
Disciplineprevailed:infiveminutestheconfusedthrongwasresolvedintoorder,andcomparativesilencequelledtheBabelclamouroftongues.Theupperteachersnowpunctuallyresumedtheirposts:butstill,allseemedtowait.Rangedonbenchesdownthesidesoftheroom,theeightygirlssatmotionlessanderect;aquaintassemblagetheyappeared,allwithplainlockscombedfromtheirfaces,notacurlvisible;inbrowndresses,madehighandsurroundedbyanarrowtuckeraboutthethroat,withlittlepocketsofholland(shapedsomethinglikeaHighlander’spurse)tiedinfrontoftheirfrocks,anddestinedtoservethepurposeofawork-bag:all,too,wearingwoollenstockingsandcountry-madeshoes,fastenedwithbrassbuckles.Abovetwentyofthosecladinthiscostumewerefull-growngirls,orratheryoungwomen;itsuitedthemill,andgaveanairofoddityeventotheprettiest.
74
Iwasstilllookingatthem,andalsoatintervalsexaminingtheteachers—noneofwhompreciselypleasedme;forthestoutonewasalittlecoarse,thedarkonenotalittlefierce,theforeignerharshandgrotesque,andMissMiller,poorthing!lookedpurple,weather-beaten,andover-worked—when,asmyeyewanderedfromfacetoface,thewholeschoolrosesimultaneously,asifmovedbyacommonspring.
Whatwasthematter?Ihadheardnoordergiven:Iwaspuzzled.EreIhadgatheredmywits,theclasseswereagainseated:butasalleyeswerenowturnedtoonepoint,minefollowedthegeneraldirection,andencounteredthepersonagewhohadreceivedmelastnight.Shestoodatthebottomofthelongroom,onthehearth;fortherewasafireateachend;shesurveyedthetworowsofgirlssilentlyandgravely.MissMillerapproaching,seemedtoaskheraquestion,andhavingreceivedheranswer,wentbacktoherplace,andsaidaloud-
“Monitorofthefirstclass,fetchtheglobes!”
Whilethedirectionwasbeingexecuted,theladyconsultedmovedslowlyuptheroom.IsupposeIhaveaconsiderableorganofveneration,forIretainyetthesenseofadmiringawewithwhichmyeyestracedhersteps.Seennow,inbroaddaylight,shelookedtall,fair,andshapely;browneyeswithabenignantlightintheiriris,andafinepencillingoflonglashesround,relievedthewhitenessofherlargefront;oneachofhertemplesherhair,ofaverydarkbrown,wasclusteredinround
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curls,accordingtothefashionofthosetimes,whenneithersmoothbandsnorlongringletswereinvogue;herdress,alsointhemodeoftheday,wasofpurplecloth,relievedbyasortofSpanishtrimmingofblackvelvet;agoldwatch(watcheswerenotsocommonthenasnow)shoneathergirdle.Letthereaderadd,tocompletethepicture,refinedfeatures;acomplexion,ifpale,clear;andastatelyairandcarriage,andhewillhave,atleast,asclearlyaswordscangiveit,acorrectideaoftheexteriorofMissTemple—MariaTemple,asIafterwardssawthenamewritteninaprayer-bookintrustedtometocarrytochurch.
ThesuperintendentofLowood(forsuchwasthislady)havingtakenherseatbeforeapairofglobesplacedononeofthetables,summonedthefirstclassroundher,andcommencedgivingalessonongeography;thelowerclasseswerecalledbytheteachers:repetitionsinhistory,grammar,&c.,wentonforanhour;writingandarithmeticsucceeded,andmusiclessonsweregivenbyMissTempletosomeoftheeldergirls.Thedurationofeachlessonwasmeasuredbytheclock,whichatlaststrucktwelve.Thesuperintendentrose-
“Ihaveawordtoaddresstothepupils,”saidshe.
Thetumultofcessationfromlessonswasalreadybreakingforth,butitsankathervoice.Shewenton-
“Youhadthismorningabreakfastwhichyoucouldnoteat;youmustbehungry:—Ihaveorderedthatalunchofbreadandcheeseshallbeservedtoall.”
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Theteacherslookedatherwithasortofsurprise.
“Itistobedoneonmyresponsibility,”sheadded,inanexplanatorytonetothem,andimmediatelyafterwardslefttheroom.
Thebreadandcheesewaspresentlybroughtinanddistributed,tothehighdelightandrefreshmentofthewholeschool.Theorderwasnowgiven“Tothegarden!”Eachputonacoarsestrawbonnet,withstringsofcolouredcalico,andacloakofgreyfrieze.Iwassimilarlyequipped,and,followingthestream,Imademywayintotheopenair.
Thegardenwasawideinclosure,surroundedwithwallssohighastoexcludeeveryglimpseofprospect;acoveredverandahrandownoneside,andbroadwalksborderedamiddlespacedividedintoscoresoflittlebeds:thesebedswereassignedasgardensforthepupilstocultivate,andeachbedhadanowner.Whenfullofflowerstheywoulddoubtlesslookpretty;butnow,atthelatterendofJanuary,allwaswintryblightandbrowndecay.IshudderedasIstoodandlookedroundme:itwasaninclementdayforoutdoorexercise;notpositivelyrainy,butdarkenedbyadrizzlingyellowfog;allunderfootwasstillsoakingwetwiththefloodsofyesterday.Thestrongeramongthegirlsranaboutandengagedinactivegames,butsundrypaleandthinonesherdedtogetherforshelterandwarmthintheverandah;andamongstthese,asthedensemistpenetratedtotheirshiveringframes,Iheardfrequentlythesoundofahollowcough.
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AsyetIhadspokentonoone,nordidanybodyseemtotakenoticeofme;Istoodlonelyenough:buttothatfeelingofisolationIwasaccustomed;itdidnotoppressmemuch.Ileantagainstapillaroftheverandah,drewmygreymantlecloseaboutme,and,tryingtoforgetthecoldwhichnippedmewithout,andtheunsatisfiedhungerwhichgnawedmewithin,deliveredmyselfuptotheemploymentofwatchingandthinking.Myreflectionsweretooundefinedandfragmentarytomeritrecord:IhardlyyetknewwhereIwas;Gatesheadandmypastlifeseemedfloatedawaytoanimmeasurabledistance;thepresentwasvagueandstrange,andofthefutureIcouldformnoconjecture.Ilookedroundtheconvent-likegarden,andthenupatthehouse—alargebuilding,halfofwhichseemedgreyandold,theotherhalfquitenew.Thenewpart,containingtheschoolroomanddormitory,waslitbymullionedandlatticedwindows,whichgaveitachurch-likeaspect;astonetabletoverthedoorborethisinscription:-
“LowoodInstitution.—ThisportionwasrebuiltA.D.—,byNaomiBrocklehurst,ofBrocklehurstHall,inthiscounty.”
“Letyourlightsoshinebeforemen,thattheymayseeyourgoodworks,andglorifyyourFatherwhichisinheaven.”—St.Matt.v.16.
Ireadthesewordsoverandoveragain:Ifeltthatanexplanationbelongedtothem,andwasunablefullytopenetratetheirimport.Iwasstillponderingthe
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significationof“Institution,”andendeavouringtomakeoutaconnectionbetweenthefirstwordsandtheverseofScripture,whenthesoundofacoughclosebehindmemademeturnmyhead.Isawagirlsittingonastonebenchnear;shewasbentoverabook,ontheperusalofwhichsheseemedintent:fromwhereIstoodIcouldseethetitle—itwas“Rasselas;”anamethatstruckmeasstrange,andconsequentlyattractive.Inturningaleafshehappenedtolookup,andIsaidtoherdirectly-
“Isyourbookinteresting?”Ihadalreadyformedtheintentionofaskinghertolendittomesomeday.
“Ilikeit,”sheanswered,afterapauseofasecondortwo,duringwhichsheexaminedme.
“Whatisitabout?”Icontinued.IhardlyknowwhereIfoundthehardihoodthustoopenaconversationwithastranger;thestepwascontrarytomynatureandhabits:butIthinkheroccupationtouchedachordofsympathysomewhere;forItoolikedreading,thoughofafrivolousandchildishkind;Icouldnotdigestorcomprehendtheseriousorsubstantial.
“Youmaylookatit,”repliedthegirl,offeringmethebook.
Ididso;abriefexaminationconvincedmethatthecontentswerelesstakingthanthetitle:“Rasselas”lookeddulltomytriflingtaste;Isawnothingaboutfairies,nothingaboutgenii;nobrightvarietyseemedspreadovertheclosely-printedpages.Ireturneditto
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her;shereceiveditquietly,andwithoutsayinganythingshewasabouttorelapseintoherformerstudiousmood:againIventuredtodisturbher-
“Canyoutellmewhatthewritingonthatstoneoverthedoormeans?WhatisLowoodInstitution?”
“Thishousewhereyouarecometolive.”
“AndwhydotheycallitInstitution?Isitinanywaydifferentfromotherschools?”
“Itispartlyacharity-school:youandI,andalltherestofus,arecharity-children.Isupposeyouareanorphan:
arenoteitheryourfatheroryourmotherdead?”“BothdiedbeforeIcanremember.”
“Well,allthegirlsherehavelosteitheroneorbothparents,andthisiscalledaninstitutionforeducatingorphans.”
“Dowepaynomoney?Dotheykeepusfornothing?”
“Wepay,orourfriendspay,fifteenpoundsayearforeach.”
“Thenwhydotheycalluscharity-children?”
“Becausefifteenpoundsisnotenoughforboardandteaching,andthedeficiencyissuppliedby
subscription.”
“Whosubscribes?”
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“Differentbenevolent-mindedladiesandgentlemenin
thisneighbourhoodandinLondon.”
“WhowasNaomiBrocklehurst?”
“Theladywhobuiltthenewpartofthishouseasthattabletrecords,andwhosesonoverlooksanddirects
everythinghere.”
“Why?”
“Becauseheistreasurerandmanageroftheestablishment.”
“Thenthishousedoesnotbelongt
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