Business now began: the day's Collect was repeated, then certaintexts of Scripture were said, and to these succeeded a protractedreading of chapters in the Bible, which lasted an hour. By the timethat exercise was terminated, day had fully dawned. Theindefatigable bell now sounded for the fourth time: the classes weremarshalled and marched into another room to breakfast: how glad Iwas to behold a prospect of getting something to eat! I was now nearlysick from inanition, having taken so little the day before.
The refectory was a great, low-ceiled, gloomy room; on two longtables smoked basins of something hot, which, however, to my dismay,sent forth an odour far from inviting. I saw a universal manifestationof discontent when the fumes of the repast met the nostrils of thosedestined to swallow it; from the van of the procession, the tall girlsof the first class, rose the whispered words-
'Disgusting! The porridge is burnt again!'
'Silence!' ejaculated a voice; not that of Miss Miller, but oneof the upper teachers, a little and dark personage, smartly dressed,but of somewhat morose aspect, who installed herself at the top of onetable, while a more buxom lady presided at the other. I looked in vainfor her I had first seen the night before; she was not visible: MissMiller occupied the foot of the table where I sat, and a strange,foreign-looking, elderly lady, the French teacher, as I afterwardsfound, took the corresponding seat at the other board. A long gracewas said and a hymn sung; then a servant brought in some tea for theteachers, and the meal began.
Ravenous, and now very faint, I devoured a spoonful or two of myportion without thinking of its taste; but the first edge of hungerblunted, I perceived I had got in hand a nauseous mess; burnt porridgeis almost as bad as rotten potatoes; famine itself soon sickens overit. The spoons were moved slowly: I saw each girl taste her food andtry to swallow it; but in most cases the effort was soon relinquished.Breakfast was over, and none had breakfasted. Thanks being returnedfor what we had not got, and a second hymn chanted, the refectorywas evacuated for the schoolroom. I was one of the last to go out, andin passing the tables, I saw one teacher take a basin of theporridge and taste it; she looked at the others; all theircountenances expressed displeasure, and one of them, the stout one,whispered-
'Abominable stuff! How shameful!'
A quarter of an hour passed before lessons again began, duringwhich the schoolroom was in a glorious tumult; for that space oftime it seemed to be permitted to talk loud and more freely, andthey used their privilege. The whole conversation ran on thebreakfast, which one and all abused roundly. Poor things! it was thesole consolation they had. Miss Miller was now the only teacher in theroom: a group of great girls standing about her spoke with serious andsullen gestures. I heard the name of Mr. Brocklehurst pronounced bysome lips; at which Miss Miller shook her head disapprovingly; but shemade no great effort to check the general wrath; doubtless sheshared in it.
A clock in the schoolroom struck nine; Miss Miller left her circle,and standing in the middle of the room, cried-
'Silence! To your seats!'
Discipline prevailed: in five minutes the confused throng wasresolved into order, and comparative silence quelled the Babel clamourof tongues. The upper teachers now punctually resumed their posts: butstill, all seemed to wait. Ranged on benches down the sides of theroom, the eighty girls sat motionless and erect; a quaint assemblagethey appeared, all with plain locks combed from their faces, not acurl visible; in brown dresses, made high and surrounded by a narrowtucker about the throat, with little pockets of holland (shapedsomething like a Highlander's purse) tied in front of their frocks,and destined to serve the purpose of a work-bag: all, too, wearingwoollen stockings and country-made shoes, fastened with brass buckles.Above twenty of those clad in this costume were full-grown girls, orrather young women; it suited them ill, and gave an air of oddity evento the prettiest.
I was still looking at them, and also at intervals examining theteachers- none of whom precisely pleased me; for the stout one was alittle coarse, the dark one not a little fierce, the foreigner harshand grotesque, and Miss Miller, poor thing! looked purple,weather-beaten, and over-worked- when, as my eye wandered from face toface, the whole school rose simultaneously, as if moved by a commonspring.
What was the matter? I had heard no order given: I was puzzled. EreI had gathered my wits, the classes were again seated: but as all eyeswere now turned to one point, mine followed the general direction, andencountered the personage who had received me last night. She stood atthe bottom of the long room, on the hearth; for there was a fire ateach end; she surveyed the two rows of girls silently and gravely.Miss Miller, approaching, seemed to ask her a question, and havingreceived her answer, went back to her place, and said aloud-
'Monitor of the first class, fetch the globes!'
While the direction was being executed, the lady consulted movedslowly up the room. I suppose I have a considerable organ ofveneration, for I retain yet the sense of admiring awe with which myeyes traced her steps. Seen now, in broad day-light, she lookedtall, fair, and shapely; brown eyes with a benignant light in theiririds, and a fine pencilling of long lashes round, relieved thewhiteness of her large front; on each of her temples her hair, of avery dark brown, was clustered in round curls, according to thefashion of those times, when neither smooth bands nor long ringletswere in vogue; her dress, also in the mode of the day, was of purplecloth, relieved by a sort of Spanish trimming of black velvet; agold watch (watches were not so common then as now) shone at hergirdle. Let the reader add, to complete the picture, refined features;a complexion, if pale, clear; and a stately air and carriage, and hewill have, at least, as clearly as words can give it, a correct ideaof the exterior of Miss Temple- Maria Temple, as I afterwards sawthe name written in a prayer-book intrusted to me to carry to church.
The superintendent of Lowood (for such was this lady) havingtaken her seat before a pair of globes placed on one of the tables,summoned the first class round her, and commenced giving a lesson ongeography; the lower classes were called by the teachers:repetitions in history, grammar, etc., went on for an hour; writingand arithmetic succeeded, and music lessons were given by MissTemple to some of the elder girls. The duration of each lesson wasmeasured by the clock, which at last struck twelve. The superintendentrose-
'I have a word to address to the pupils,' said she.
The tumult of cessation from lessons was already breaking forth,but it sank at her voice. She went on-
'You had this morning a breakfast which you could not eat; you mustbe hungry:- I have ordered that a lunch of bread and cheese shall beserved to all.'
The teachers looked at her with a sort of surprise.
'It is to be done on my responsibility,' she added, in anexplanatory tone to them, and immediately afterwards left the room.
The bread and cheese was presently brought in and distributed, tothe high delight and refreshment of the whole school. The order wasnow given 'To the garden!' Each put on a coarse straw bonnet, withstrings of coloured calico, and a cloak of grey frieze, I wassimilarly equipped, and, following the stream, I made my way intothe open air.
The garden was a wide enclosure, surrounded with walls so high asto exclude every glimpse of prospect; a covered verandah ran downone side, and broad walks bordered a middle space divided intoscores of little beds: these beds were assigned as gardens for thepupils to cultivate, and each bed had an owner. When full of flowersthey would doubtless look pretty; but now, at the latter end ofJanuary, all was wintry blight and brown decay. I shuddered as I stoodand looked round me: it was an inclement day for outdoor exercise; notpositively rainy, but darkened by a drizzling yellow fog; all underfoot was still soaking wet with the floods of yesterday. Thestronger among the girls ran about and engaged in active games, butsundry pale and thin ones herded together for shelter and warmth inthe verandah; and amongst these, as the dense mist penetrated to theirshivering frames, I heard frequently the sound of a hollow cough.
As yet I had spoken to no one, nor did anybody seem to takenotice of me; I stood lonely enough: but to that feeling ofisolation I was accustomed; it did not oppress me much. I leantagainst a pillar of the verandah, drew my grey mantle close aboutme, and, trying to forget the cold which nipped me without, and theunsatisfied hunger which gnawed me within, delivered myself up tothe employment of watching and thinking. My reflections were tooundefined and fragmentary to merit record: I hardly yet knew where Iwas; Gateshead and my past life seemed floated away to an immeasurabledistance; the present was vague and strange, and of the future I couldform no conjecture. I looked round the convent-like garden, and thenup at the house- a large building, half of which seemed grey andold, the other half quite new. The new part, containing the schoolroomand dormitory, was lit by mullioned and latticed windows, which gaveit a church-like aspect; a stone tablet over the door bore thisinscription-Brocklehurst, of Brocklehurst Hall, in this county.' 'Let your lightso shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorifyyour Father which is in heaven.'- St. Matt. v. 16.
I read these words over and over again: I felt that anexplanation belonged to them, and was unable fully to penetratetheir import. I was still pondering the signification of'Institution', and endeavouring to make out a connection between thefirst words and the verse of Scripture, when the sound of a coughclose behind me made me turn my head. I saw a girl sitting on astone bench near; she was bent over a book, on the perusal of whichshe seemed intent: from where I stood I could see the title- it wasRasselas; a name that struck me as strange, and consequentlyattractive. In turning a leaf she happened to look up, and I said toher 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 of a second or two, duringwhich she examined me.
'What is it about?' I continued. I hardly know where I found thehardihood thus to open a conversation with a stranger; the step wascontrary to my nature and habits: but I think her occupation touched achord of sympathy somewhere; for I too liked reading, though of afrivolous and childish kind; I could not digest or comprehend theserious or substantial.
'You may look at it,' replied the girl, offering me the book.
I did so; a brief examination convinced me that the contents wereless taking than the title: Rasselas looked dull to my trifling taste;I saw nothing about fairies, nothing about genii; no bright varietyseemed spread over the closely-printed pages. I returned it to her;she received it quietly, and without saying anything she was aboutto relapse into her former studious mood: again I ventured todisturb her-
'Can you tell me what the writing on that stone over the doormeans? What is Lowood Institution?'
'This house where you are come to live.'
'And why do they call it Institution? Is it in any way differentfrom other schools?'
'It is partly a charity-school: you and I, and all the rest ofus, are charity-children. I suppose you are an orphan: are noteither your father or your mother dead?'
'Both died before I can remember.'
'Well, all the girls here have lost either one or both parents, andthis 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 pounds a year for each.'
'Then why do they call us charity-children?'
'Because fifteen pounds is not enough for board and teaching, andthe deficiency is supplied by subscription.'
'Who subscribes?'
'Different benevolent-minded ladies and gentlemen in thisneighbourhood and in London.'
'Who was Naomi Brocklehurst?'
'The lady who built the new part of this house as that tabletrecords, and whose son overlooks and directs everything here.'
'Why?'
'Because he is treasurer and manager of the establishment.'
'Then this house does not belong to that tall lady who wears awatch, 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 foodand all our 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 a great deal of good.'
'Did you say that tall lady was called Miss Temple?'
'Yes.'
'And what are the other teachers called?'
'The one with red cheeks is called Miss Smith; she attends to thework, and cuts out- for we make our own clothes, our frocks, andpelisses, and everything; the little one with black hair is MissScatcherd; she teaches history and grammar, and hears the second classrepetitions; and the one who wears a shawl, and has apocket-handkerchief tied to her side with a yellow ribband, isMadame Pierrot: she comes from Lisle, in France, and teaches French.'
'Do you like the teachers?'
'Well enough.'
'Do you like the little black one, and the Madame-? -I cannotpronounce her name as you do.'
'Miss Scatcherd is hasty- you must take care 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 enoughfor the present: now I want to read.'
But at that moment the summons sounded for dinner; all re-enteredthe house. The odour which now filled the refectory was scarcelymore appetising than that which had regaled our nostrils at breakfast:the dinner was served in two huge tin-plated vessels, whence rose astrong steam redolent of rancid fat. I found the mess to consist ofindifferent potatoes and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed andcooked together. Of this preparation a tolerably abundant plateful wasapportioned to each pupil. I ate what I could, and wondered withinmyself whether every day's fare would be like this.
