wandgestaltung kinderzimmer grau rosa
chapter v five o'clock had hardly struck on themorning of the 19th of january, when bessie brought a candle into my closet and foundme already up and nearly dressed. i had risen half-an-hour before herentrance, and had washed my face, and put on my clothes by the light of a half-moonjust setting, whose rays streamed through the narrow window near my crib. i was to leave gateshead that day by acoach which passed the lodge gates at six a.m. bessie was the only person yet risen; shehad lit a fire in the nursery, where she
now proceeded to make my breakfast.few children can eat when excited with the thoughts of a journey; nor could i. bessie, having pressed me in vain to take afew spoonfuls of the boiled milk and bread she had prepared for me, wrapped up somebiscuits in a paper and put them into my bag; then she helped me on with my pelisse and bonnet, and wrapping herself in ashawl, she and i left the nursery. as we passed mrs. reed's bedroom, she said,"will you go in and bid missis good- bye?" "no, bessie: she came to my crib last nightwhen you were gone down to supper, and said i need not disturb her in the morning, ormy cousins either; and she told me to
remember that she had always been my best friend, and to speak of her and be gratefulto her accordingly." "what did you say, miss?" "nothing: i covered my face with thebedclothes, and turned from her to the wall.""that was wrong, miss jane." "it was quite right, bessie. your missis has not been my friend: she hasbeen my foe." "o miss jane! don't say so!" "good-bye to gateshead!" cried i, as wepassed through the hall and went out at the
front door. the moon was set, and it was very dark;bessie carried a lantern, whose light glanced on wet steps and gravel road soddenby a recent thaw. raw and chill was the winter morning: myteeth chattered as i hastened down the drive. there was a light in the porter's lodge:when we reached it, we found the porter's wife just kindling her fire: my trunk,which had been carried down the evening before, stood corded at the door. it wanted but a few minutes of six, andshortly after that hour had struck, the
distant roll of wheels announced the comingcoach; i went to the door and watched its lamps approach rapidly through the gloom. "is she going by herself?" asked theporter's wife. "yes.""and how far is it?" "fifty miles." "what a long way!i wonder mrs. reed is not afraid to trust her so far alone." the coach drew up; there it was at thegates with its four horses and its top laden with passengers: the guard andcoachman loudly urged haste; my trunk was
hoisted up; i was taken from bessie's neck,to which i clung with kisses. "be sure and take good care of her," criedshe to the guard, as he lifted me into the inside. "ay, ay!" was the answer: the door wasslapped to, a voice exclaimed "all right," and on we drove. thus was i severed from bessie andgateshead; thus whirled away to unknown, and, as i then deemed, remote andmysterious regions. i remember but little of the journey; ionly know that the day seemed to me of a preternatural length, and that we appearedto travel over hundreds of miles of road.
we passed through several towns, and inone, a very large one, the coach stopped; the horses were taken out, and thepassengers alighted to dine. i was carried into an inn, where the guardwanted me to have some dinner; but, as i had no appetite, he left me in an immenseroom with a fireplace at each end, a chandelier pendent from the ceiling, and a little red gallery high up against the wallfilled with musical instruments. here i walked about for a long time,feeling very strange, and mortally apprehensive of some one coming in andkidnapping me; for i believed in kidnappers, their exploits having
frequently figured in bessie's firesidechronicles. at last the guard returned; once more i wasstowed away in the coach, my protector mounted his own seat, sounded his hollowhorn, and away we rattled over the "stony street" of l-. the afternoon came on wet and somewhatmisty: as it waned into dusk, i began to feel that we were getting very far indeedfrom gateshead: we ceased to pass through towns; the country changed; great grey hills heaved up round the horizon: astwilight deepened, we descended a valley, dark with wood, and long after night hadoverclouded the prospect, i heard a wild
wind rushing amongst trees. lulled by the sound, i at last droppedasleep; i had not long slumbered when the sudden cessation of motion awoke me; thecoach-door was open, and a person like a servant was standing at it: i saw her faceand dress by the light of the lamps. "is there a little girl called jane eyrehere?" she asked. i answered "yes," and was then lifted out;my trunk was handed down, and the coach instantly drove away. i was stiff with long sitting, andbewildered with the noise and motion of the coach: gathering my faculties, i lookedabout me.
rain, wind, and darkness filled the air;nevertheless, i dimly discerned a wall before me and a door open in it; throughthis door i passed with my new guide: she shut and locked it behind her. there was now visible a house or houses--for the building spread far--with many windows, and lights burning in some; wewent up a broad pebbly path, splashing wet, and were admitted at a door; then the servant led me through a passage into aroom with a fire, where she left me alone. i stood and warmed my numbed fingers overthe blaze, then i looked round; there was no candle, but the uncertain light from thehearth showed, by intervals, papered walls,
carpet, curtains, shining mahogany furniture: it was a parlour, not sospacious or splendid as the drawing-room at gateshead, but comfortable enough. i was puzzling to make out the subject of apicture on the wall, when the door opened, and an individual carrying a light entered;another followed close behind. the first was a tall lady with dark hair,dark eyes, and a pale and large forehead; her figure was partly enveloped in a shawl,her countenance was grave, her bearing erect. "the child is very young to be sent alone,"said she, putting her candle down on the
table.she considered me attentively for a minute or two, then further added-- "she had better be put to bed soon; shelooks tired: are you tired?" she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder."a little, ma'am." "and hungry too, no doubt: let her havesome supper before she goes to bed, miss miller.is this the first time you have left your parents to come to school, my little girl?" i explained to her that i had no parents. she inquired how long they had been dead:then how old i was, what was my name,
whether i could read, write, and sew alittle: then she touched my cheek gently with her forefinger, and saying, "she hoped i should be a good child," dismissed mealong with miss miller. the lady i had left might be about twenty-nine; the one who went with me appeared some years younger: the first impressed meby her voice, look, and air. miss miller was more ordinary; ruddy incomplexion, though of a careworn countenance; hurried in gait and action,like one who had always a multiplicity of tasks on hand: she looked, indeed, what i afterwards found she really was, an under-teacher.
led by her, i passed from compartment tocompartment, from passage to passage, of a large and irregular building; till,emerging from the total and somewhat dreary silence pervading that portion of the house we had traversed, we came upon the hum ofmany voices, and presently entered a wide, long room, with great deal tables, two ateach end, on each of which burnt a pair of candles, and seated all round on benches, a congregation of girls of every age, fromnine or ten to twenty. seen by the dim light of the dips, theirnumber to me appeared countless, though not in reality exceeding eighty; they wereuniformly dressed in brown stuff frocks of
quaint fashion, and long holland pinafores. it was the hour of study; they were engagedin conning over their to-morrow's task, and the hum i had heard was the combined resultof their whispered repetitions. miss miller signed to me to sit on a benchnear the door, then walking up to the top of the long room she cried out--"monitors, collect the lesson-books and put them away!" four tall girls arose from differenttables, and going round, gathered the books and removed them.miss miller again gave the word of command- -
"monitors, fetch the supper-trays!" the tall girls went out and returnedpresently, each bearing a tray, with portions of something, i knew not what,arranged thereon, and a pitcher of water and mug in the middle of each tray. the portions were handed round; those wholiked took a draught of the water, the mug being common to all. when it came to my turn, i drank, for i wasthirsty, but did not touch the food, excitement and fatigue rendering meincapable of eating: i now saw, however, that it was a thin oaten cake shared intofragments.
the meal over, prayers were read by missmiller, and the classes filed off, two and two, upstairs. overpowered by this time with weariness, iscarcely noticed what sort of a place the bedroom was, except that, like theschoolroom, i saw it was very long. to-night i was to be miss miller's bed-fellow; she helped me to undress: when laid down i glanced at the long rows of beds,each of which was quickly filled with two occupants; in ten minutes the single light was extinguished, and amidst silence andcomplete darkness i fell asleep. the night passed rapidly.
i was too tired even to dream; i only onceawoke to hear the wind rave in furious gusts, and the rain fall in torrents, andto be sensible that miss miller had taken her place by my side. when i again unclosed my eyes, a loud bellwas ringing; the girls were up and dressing; day had not yet begun to dawn,and a rushlight or two burned in the room. i too rose reluctantly; it was bitter cold,and i dressed as well as i could for shivering, and washed when there was abasin at liberty, which did not occur soon, as there was but one basin to six girls, onthe stands down the middle of the room. again the bell rang: all formed in file,two and two, and in that order descended
the stairs and entered the cold and dimlylit schoolroom: here prayers were read by miss miller; afterwards she called out-- "form classes!"a great tumult succeeded for some minutes, during which miss miller repeatedlyexclaimed, "silence!" and "order!" when it subsided, i saw them all drawn upin four semicircles, before four chairs, placed at the four tables; all held booksin their hands, and a great book, like a bible, lay on each table, before the vacantseat. a pause of some seconds succeeded, filledup by the low, vague hum of numbers; miss miller walked from class to class, hushingthis indefinite sound.
a distant bell tinkled: immediately threeladies entered the room, each walked to a table and took her seat. miss miller assumed the fourth vacantchair, which was that nearest the door, and around which the smallest of the childrenwere assembled: to this inferior class i was called, and placed at the bottom of it. business now began, the day's collect wasrepeated, then certain texts of scripture were said, and to these succeeded aprotracted reading of chapters in the bible, which lasted an hour. by the time that exercise was terminated,day had fully dawned.
the indefatigable bell now sounded for thefourth time: the classes were marshalled and marched into another room to breakfast:how glad i was to behold a prospect of getting something to eat! i was now nearly sick from inanition,having taken so little the day before. the refectory was a great, low-ceiled,gloomy room; on two long tables smoked basins of something hot, which, however, tomy dismay, sent forth an odour far from inviting. i saw a universal manifestation ofdiscontent when the fumes of the repast met the nostrils of those destined to swallowit; from the van of the procession, the
tall girls of the first class, rose thewhispered words-- "disgusting!the porridge is burnt again!" "silence!" ejaculated a voice; not that ofmiss miller, but one of the upper teachers, a little and dark personage, smartlydressed, but of somewhat morose aspect, who installed herself at the top of one table, while a more buxom lady presided at theother. i looked in vain for her i had first seenthe night before; she was not visible: miss miller occupied the foot of the table wherei sat, and a strange, foreign-looking, elderly lady, the french teacher, as i
afterwards found, took the correspondingseat at the other board. a long grace was said and a hymn sung; thena servant brought in some tea for the teachers, and the meal began. ravenous, and now very faint, i devoured aspoonful or two of my portion without thinking of its taste; but the first edgeof hunger blunted, i perceived i had got in hand a nauseous mess; burnt porridge is almost as bad as rotten potatoes; famineitself soon sickens over it. the spoons were moved slowly: i saw eachgirl taste her food and try to swallow it; but in most cases the effort was soonrelinquished.
breakfast was over, and none hadbreakfasted. thanks being returned for what we had notgot, and a second hymn chanted, the refectory was evacuated for the schoolroom. i was one of the last to go out, and inpassing the tables, i saw one teacher take a basin of the porridge and taste it; shelooked at the others; all their countenances expressed displeasure, and oneof them, the stout one, whispered-- "abominable stuff!how shameful!" a quarter of an hour passed before lessonsagain began, during which the schoolroom was in a glorious tumult; for that space oftime it seemed to be permitted to talk loud
and more freely, and they used theirprivilege. the whole conversation ran on thebreakfast, which one and all abused roundly. poor things! it was the sole consolationthey had. miss miller was now the only teacher in theroom: a group of great girls standing about her spoke with serious and sullen gestures. i heard the name of mr. brocklehurstpronounced by some lips; at which miss miller shook her head disapprovingly; butshe made no great effort to check the general wrath; doubtless she shared in it.
a clock in the schoolroom struck nine; missmiller left her circle, and standing in the middle of the room, cried--"silence! to your seats!" discipline prevailed: in five minutes theconfused throng was resolved into order, and comparative silence quelled the babelclamour of tongues. the upper teachers now punctually resumedtheir posts: but still, all seemed to wait. ranged on benches down the sides of theroom, the eighty girls sat motionless and erect; a quaint assemblage they appeared,all with plain locks combed from their faces, not a curl visible; in brown
dresses, made high and surrounded by anarrow tucker about the throat, with little pockets of holland (shaped something like ahighlander's purse) tied in front of their frocks, and destined to serve the purpose of a work-bag: all, too, wearing woollenstockings and country-made shoes, fastened with brass buckles. above twenty of those clad in this costumewere full-grown girls, or rather young women; it suited them ill, and gave an airof oddity even to the prettiest. i was still looking at them, and also atintervals examining the teachers--none of whom precisely pleased me; for the stoutone was a little coarse, the dark one not a
little fierce, the foreigner harsh and grotesque, and miss miller, poor thing!looked purple, weather-beaten, and over- worked--when, as my eye wandered from faceto face, the whole school rose simultaneously, as if moved by a commonspring. what was the matter?i had heard no order given: i was puzzled. ere i had gathered my wits, the classeswere again seated: but as all eyes were now turned to one point, mine followed thegeneral direction, and encountered the personage who had received me last night. she stood at the bottom of the long room,on the hearth; for there was a fire at each
end; she surveyed the two rows of girlssilently and gravely. miss miller approaching, seemed to ask hera question, and having received her answer, went back to her place, and said aloud--"monitor of the first class, fetch the globes!" while the direction was being executed, thelady consulted moved slowly up the room. i suppose i have a considerable organ ofveneration, for i retain yet the sense of admiring awe with which my eyes traced hersteps. seen now, in broad daylight, she lookedtall, fair, and shapely; brown eyes with a benignant light in their irids, and a finepencilling of long lashes round, relieved
the whiteness of her large front; on each of her temples her hair, of a very darkbrown, was clustered in round curls, according to the fashion of those times,when neither smooth bands nor long ringlets were in vogue; her dress, also in the mode of the day, was of purple cloth, relievedby a sort of spanish trimming of black velvet; a gold watch (watches were not socommon then as now) shone at her girdle. let the reader add, to complete thepicture, refined features; a complexion, if pale, clear; and a stately air andcarriage, and he will have, at least, as clearly as words can give it, a correct
idea of the exterior of miss temple--mariatemple, as i afterwards saw the name written in a prayer-book intrusted to me tocarry to church. the superintendent of lowood (for such wasthis lady) having taken her seat before a pair of globes placed on one of the tables,summoned the first class round her, and commenced giving a lesson on geography; the lower classes were called by the teachers:repetitions in history, grammar, &c., went on for an hour; writing and arithmeticsucceeded, and music lessons were given by miss temple to some of the elder girls. the duration of each lesson was measured bythe clock, which at last struck twelve.
the superintendent rose--"i have a word to address to the pupils," said she. the tumult of cessation from lessons wasalready breaking forth, but it sank at her voice.she went on-- "you had this morning a breakfast which youcould not eat; you must be hungry:--i have ordered that a lunch of bread and cheeseshall be served to all." the teachers looked at her with a sort ofsurprise. "it is to be done on my responsibility,"she added, in an explanatory tone to them, and immediately afterwards left the room.
the bread and cheese was presently broughtin and distributed, to the high delight and refreshment of the whole school.the order was now given "to the garden!" each put on a coarse straw bonnet, withstrings of coloured calico, and a cloak of grey frieze. i was similarly equipped, and, followingthe stream, i made my way into the open air. the garden was a wide inclosure, surroundedwith walls so high as to exclude every glimpse of prospect; a covered verandah randown one side, and broad walks bordered a middle space divided into scores of little
beds: these beds were assigned as gardensfor the pupils to cultivate, and each bed had an owner. when full of flowers they would doubtlesslook pretty; but now, at the latter end of january, all was wintry blight and browndecay. i shuddered as i stood and looked round me:it was an inclement day for outdoor exercise; not positively rainy, butdarkened by a drizzling yellow fog; all under foot was still soaking wet with thefloods of yesterday. the stronger among the girls ran about andengaged in active games, but sundry pale and thin ones herded together for shelterand warmth in the verandah; and amongst
these, as the dense mist penetrated to their shivering frames, i heard frequentlythe sound of a hollow cough. as yet i had spoken to no one, nor didanybody seem to take notice of me; i stood lonely enough: but to that feeling ofisolation i was accustomed; it did not oppress me much. i leant against a pillar of the verandah,drew my grey mantle close about me, and, trying to forget the cold which nipped mewithout, and the unsatisfied hunger which gnawed me within, delivered myself up tothe employment of watching and thinking. my reflections were too undefined andfragmentary to merit record: i hardly yet
knew where i was; gateshead and my pastlife seemed floated away to an immeasurable distance; the present was vague and strange, and of the future i could form noconjecture. i looked round the convent-like garden, andthen up at the house--a large building, half of which seemed grey and old, theother half quite new. the new part, containing the schoolroom anddormitory, was lit by mullioned and latticed windows, which gave it a church-like aspect; a stone tablet over the door bore this inscription:-- "lowood institution.--this portion wasrebuilt a.d.---, by naomi brocklehurst, of
brocklehurst hall, in this county." "let your light so shine before men, thatthey may see your good works, and glorify your father which is in heaven."--st. matt.v. 16. i read these words over and over again: ifelt that an explanation belonged to them, and was unable fully to penetrate theirimport. i was still pondering the signification of"institution," and endeavouring to make out a connection between the first words andthe verse of scripture, when the sound of a cough close behind me made me turn my head. i saw a girl sitting on a stone bench near;she was bent over a book, on the perusal of
which she seemed intent: from where i stoodi could see the title--it was "rasselas;" a name that struck me as strange, andconsequently attractive. in turning a leaf she happened to look up,and i said to her directly-- "is your book interesting?" i had already formed the intention ofasking her to lend it to me some day. "i like it," she answered, after a pause ofa second or two, during which she examined me. "what is it about?"i continued. i hardly know where i found the hardihoodthus to open a conversation with a
stranger; the step was contrary to mynature and habits: but i think her occupation touched a chord of sympathy somewhere; for i too liked reading, thoughof a frivolous and childish kind; i could not digest or comprehend the serious orsubstantial. "you may look at it," replied the girl,offering me the book. i did so; a brief examination convinced methat the contents were less taking than the title: "rasselas" looked dull to mytrifling taste; i saw nothing about fairies, nothing about genii; no bright variety seemed spread over the closely-printed pages.
i returned it to her; she received itquietly, and without saying anything she was about to relapse into her formerstudious mood: again i ventured to disturb her-- "can you tell me what the writing on thatstone over the door means? what is lowood institution?""this house where you are come to live." "and why do they call it institution? is it in any way different from otherschools?" "it is partly a charity-school: you and i,and all the rest of us, are charity- children.
i suppose you are an orphan: are not eitheryour father or your mother dead?" "both died before i can remember." "well, all the girls here have lost eitherone or both parents, and this is called an institution for educating orphans.""do we pay no money? do they keep us for nothing?" "we pay, or our friends pay, fifteen poundsa year for each." "then why do they call us charity-children?" "because fifteen pounds is not enough forboard and teaching, and the deficiency is supplied by subscription.""who subscribes?"
"different benevolent-minded ladies andgentlemen in this neighbourhood and in london.""who was naomi brocklehurst?" "the lady who built the new part of thishouse as that tablet records, and whose son overlooks and directs everything here.""why?" "because he is treasurer and manager of theestablishment." "then this house does not belong to thattall lady who wears a watch, and who said we were to have some bread and cheese?" "to miss temple?oh, no! i wish it did: she has to answer to mr.brocklehurst for all she does.
mr. brocklehurst buys all our food and allour clothes." "does he live here?""no--two miles off, at a large hall." "is he a good man?" "he is a clergyman, and is said to do agreat deal of good." "did you say that tall lady was called misstemple?" "yes." "and what are the other teachers called?" "the one with red cheeks is called misssmith; she attends to the work, and cuts out--for we make our own clothes, ourfrocks, and pelisses, and everything; the
little one with black hair is miss scatcherd; she teaches history and grammar,and hears the second class repetitions; and the one who wears a shawl, and has apocket-handkerchief tied to her side with a yellow ribband, is madame pierrot: she comes from lisle, in france, and teachesfrench." "do you like the teachers?""well enough." "do you like the little black one, and themadame ---?--i cannot pronounce her name as you do." "miss scatcherd is hasty--you must takecare not to offend her; madame pierrot is
not a bad sort of person.""but miss temple is the best--isn't she?" "miss temple is very good and very clever;she is above the rest, because she knows far more than they do.""have you been long here?" "two years." "are you an orphan?""my mother is dead." "are you happy here?""you ask rather too many questions. i have given you answers enough for thepresent: now i want to read." but at that moment the summons sounded fordinner; all re-entered the house. the odour which now filled the refectorywas scarcely more appetising than that
which had regaled our nostrils atbreakfast: the dinner was served in two huge tin-plated vessels, whence rose astrong steam redolent of rancid fat. i found the mess to consist of indifferentpotatoes and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed and cooked together. of this preparation a tolerably abundantplateful was apportioned to each pupil. i ate what i could, and wondered withinmyself whether every day's fare would be like this. after dinner, we immediately adjourned tothe schoolroom: lessons recommenced, and were continued till five o'clock.
the only marked event of the afternoon was,that i saw the girl with whom i had conversed in the verandah dismissed indisgrace by miss scatcherd from a history class, and sent to stand in the middle ofthe large schoolroom. the punishment seemed to me in a highdegree ignominious, especially for so great a girl--she looked thirteen or upwards. i expected she would show signs of greatdistress and shame; but to my surprise she neither wept nor blushed: composed, thoughgrave, she stood, the central mark of all eyes. "how can she bear it so quietly--sofirmly?"
i asked of myself. "were i in her place, it seems to me ishould wish the earth to open and swallow me up. she looks as if she were thinking ofsomething beyond her punishment--beyond her situation: of something not round her norbefore her. i have heard of day-dreams--is she in aday-dream now? her eyes are fixed on the floor, but i amsure they do not see it--her sight seems turned in, gone down into her heart: she islooking at what she can remember, i believe; not at what is really present.
i wonder what sort of a girl she is--whether good or naughty." soon after five p.m. we had another meal,consisting of a small mug of coffee, and half-a-slice of brown bread. i devoured my bread and drank my coffeewith relish; but i should have been glad of as much more--i was still hungry. half-an-hour's recreation succeeded, thenstudy; then the glass of water and the piece of oat-cake, prayers, and bed.such was my first day at lowood.