Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte Deluxe Edition Chapter 10.

Hitherto I have recorded in detail the events of my insignificant
existence: to the first ten years of my life I have given almost
as many chapters. But this is not to be a regular autobiography.
I am only bound to invoke Memory where I know her responses will
possess some degree of interest; therefore I now pass a space of
eight years almost in silence: a few lines only are necessary to
keep up the links of connection.

When the typhus fever had fulfilled its mission of devastation
at Lowood, it gradually disappeared from thence; but not till its
virulence and the number of its victims had drawn public attention
on the school. Inquiry was made into the origin of the scourge, and
by degrees various facts came out which excited public indignation
in a high degree. The unhealthy nature of the site; the quantity
and quality of the children's food; the brackish, fetid water used
in its preparation; the pupils' wretched clothing and accommodations
all these things were discovered, and the discovery produced a result
mortifying to Mr. Brocklehurst, but beneficial to the institution.
Several wealthy and benevolent individuals in the county subscribed
largely for the erection of a more convenient building in a better
situation; new regulations were made; improvements in diet and
clothing introduced; the funds of the school were intrusted to the
management of a committee.

Mr. Brocklehurst, who, from his wealth and family connections, could not be
overlooked, still retained the post of treasurer; but he was aided in the
discharge of his duties by gentlemen of rather more enlarged and
sympathising minds: his office of inspector, too, was shared by those
who knew how to combine reason with strictness, comfort with
economy, compassion with uprightness. The school, thus improved,
became in time a truly useful and noble institution. I remained an
inmate of its walls, after its regeneration, for eight years:six as pupil,
and two as teacher; and in both capacities I bear my testimony to
its value and importance.

During these eight years my life was uniform: but not unhappy,
because it was not inactive. I had the means of an excellent
education placed within my reach; a fondness for some of my studies,
and a desire to excel in all, together with a great delight in pleasing my
teachers, especially such as I loved, urged me on: I availed myself fully
of the advantages offered me. In time I rose to be the first girl of the first
class; then I was invested with the office of teacher; which I discharged
with zeal for two years: but at the end of that time I altered.

Miss Temple, through all changes, had thus far continued superintendent
of the seminary: to her instruction I owed the best part of my
acquirements; her friendship and society had been my continual
solace; she had stood me in the stead of mother, governess, and,
latterly, companion. At this period she married, removed with
her husband (a clergyman, an excellent man, almost worthy of such
a wife) to a distant county, and consequently was lost to me.

From the day she left I was no longer the same: with her was gone
every settled feeling, every association that had made Lowood in
some degree a home to me. I had imbibed from her something of her
nature and much of her habits: more harmonious thoughts: what
seemed better regulated feelings had become the inmates of my
mind. I had given in allegiance to duty and order; I was quiet;
I believed I was content: to the eyes of others, usually even to
my own, I appeared a disciplined and subdued character.

But destiny, in the shape of the Rev. Mr. Nasmyth, came between
me and Miss Temple: I saw her in her travelling dress step into
a postchaise, shortly after the marriage ceremony; I watched
the chaise mount the hill and disappear beyond its brow; and then
retired to my own room, and there spent in solitude the greatest
part of the halfholiday granted in honour of the occasion.

I walked about the chamber most of the time. I imagined myself
only to be regretting my loss, and thinking how to repair it; but
when my reflections were concluded, and I looked up and found that
the afternoon was gone, and evening far advanced, another discovery
dawned on me, namely, that in the interval I had undergone a
transforming process; that my mind had put off all it had borrowed
of Miss Temple or rather that she had taken with her the serene
atmosphere I had been breathing in her vicinity and that now I was left
in my natural element, and beginning to feel the stirring of old emotions.

It did not seem as if a prop were withdrawn,
but rather as if a motive were gone: it was not the power to be
tranquil which had failed me, but the reason for tranquillity was
no more. My world had for some years been in Lowood: my experience
had been of its rules and systems; now I remembered that the real
world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of
sensations and excitements, awaited those who had courage to go
forth into its expanse, to seek real knowledge of life amidst its perils.


I went to my window, opened it, and looked out. There were the two
wings of the building; there was the garden; there were the skirts
of Lowood; there was the hilly horizon. My eye passed all other
objects to rest on those most remote, the blue peaks; it was those
I longed to surmount; all within their boundary of rock and heath
seemed prisonground, exile limits. I traced the white road winding
round the base of one mountain, and vanishing in a gorge
between two; how I longed to follow it farther!

I recalled the time when I had travelled that very road in a coach;
I remembered descending that hill at twilight; an age seemed
to have elapsed since the day which brought me first to Lowood,
and I had never quitted it since. My vacations had all been spent at
school: Mrs. Reed had never sent for me to Gateshead; neither she
nor any of her family had ever been to visit me. I had had no
communication by letter or message with the outer world:
schoolrules, schoolduties, schoolhabits and notions, and voices, and faces,
and phrases, and costumes, and preferences, and antipathies such was
what I knew of existence.And now I felt that it was not enough; I tired
of the routine of eight years in one afternoon. I desired liberty; for liberty!

I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on the
wind then faintly blowing. I abandoned it and framed a humbler
supplication; for change, stimulus: that petition, too, seemed swept off
into vague space: "Then," I cried, half desperate, "grant me at least a new
servitude!" Hear a bell, ringing the hour of supper, called me downstairs.
I was not free to resume the interrupted chain of my reflections
till bedtime: even then a teacher who occupied the same room
with me kept me from the subject to which I longed to recur, by a
prolonged effusion of small talk. How I wished sleep would silence
her. It seemed as if, could I but go back to the idea which
had last entered my mind as I stood at the window, some inventive
suggestion would rise for my relief.

Miss Gryce snored at last; she was a heavy Welshwoman, and till now her
habitual nasal strains had never been regarded by me in any other light
than as a nuisance; tonight I hailed the first deep notes with satisfaction; I
was debarrassed of interruption; my half effaced thought instantly revived.
"A new servitude! There is something in that," I soliloquised (mentally, be
it understood; I did not talk aloud), "I know there is, because it does not
sound too sweet; it is not like such words as Liberty, Excitement, Enjoyment:
delightful sounds truly; but no more than sounds for me; and so hollow
and fleeting that it is mere waste of time to listen to them. But Servitude!
That must be matter of fact. Any one may serve:

I have served here eightyears; now all I want is to serve elsewhere.
Can I not get so much of my own will? Is not the thing feasible?
Yes, yes, the end,is not so difficult; if I had only a brain active enough
to ferret out the means of attaining it." I sat up in bed by way of arousing
this said brain: it was a chilly night; I covered my shoulders with
a shawl, and then I proceeded TO THINK again with all my might.


"What do I want? A new place, in a new house, amongst new faces,
under new circumstances: I want this because it is of no use wanting
anything better. How do people do to get a new place? They apply
to friends, I suppose: I have no friends. There are many others
who have no friends, who must look about for themselves and be
their own helpers; and what is their resource?"

I could not tell: nothing answered me; I then ordered my brain to
find a response, and quickly. It worked and worked faster: I felt
the pulses throb in my head and temples; but for nearly an hour it
worked in chaos; and no result came of its efforts. Feverish with vain
labour, I got up and took a turn in the room; undrew the curtain,
noted a star or two, shivered with cold, and again crept to bed.

A kind fairy, in my absence, had surely dropped the required suggestion
on my pillow; for as I lay down, it came quietly and naturally to my mind.
"Those who want situations advertise; you must advertise in the shire Herald."
"How? I know nothing about advertising." Replies rose smooth and prompt
now: "You must enclose the advertisement and the money to pay for it under
a cover directed to the editor of the Herald; you must put it, the first opportunity
you have, into the post at Lowton; answers must be addressed to J.E., at the
postoffice there; you can go and inquire in about a week after you
send your letter, if any are come, and act accordingly."

This scheme I went over twice, thrice; it was then digested in my
mind; I had it in a clear practical form: I felt satisfied, and fell asleep.
With earliest day, I was up: I had my advertisement written, enclosed,
and directed before the bell rang to rouse the school; it ran thus:


"A young lady accustomed to tuition" (had I not been a teacher two
years?) "is desirous of meeting with a situation in a private family where
the children are under fourteen (I thought that as I was barely eighteen,
it would not do to undertake the guidance of pupils nearer my own age).
She is qualified to teach the usual branches of a good English education,
together with French, Drawing, and Music" (in those days, reader, this now
narrow catalogue of accomplishments, would have been held tolerably
comprehensive). "Address, J.E., Postoffice, Lowton, shire."


This document remained locked in my drawer all day: after tea,
I asked leave of the new superintendent to go to Lowton, in order
to perform some small commissions for myself and one or two of my
fellow teachers; permission was readily granted; I went. It was a walk of
two miles, and the evening was wet, but the days were still long; I visited
a shop or two, slipped the letter into the postoffice, and came back
through heavy rain, with streaming garments, but with a relieved heart.

The succeeding week seemed long: it came to an end at last, however,
like all sublunary things, and once more, towards the close of a
pleasant autumn day, I found myself afoot on the road to Lowton. A
picturesque track it was, by the way; lying along the side of the beck
and through the sweetest curves of the dale: but that day I thought
more of the letters, that might or might not be awaiting me at the little
burgh whither I was bound, than of the charms of lea and water.


My ostensible errand on this occasion was to get measured for
a pair of shoes; so I discharged that business first, and when it
was done, I stepped across the clean and quiet little street from
the shoemaker's to the postoffice: it was kept by an old dame, who
wore horn spectacles on her nose, and black mittens on her hands.
"Are there any letters for J.E.?" I asked.

She peered at me over her spectacles, and then she opened a drawer and
fumbled among its contents for a long time, so long that my hopes
began to falter. At last, having held a document before her glasses for
nearly five minutes, she presented it across the counter, accompanying
the act by another inquisitive and mistrustful glanceit was for J.E.
"Is there only one?" I demanded. "There are no more," said she; and I put
it in my pocket and turned my face homeward: I could not open it then;
rules obliged me to be back by eight, and it was already halfpast seven.


Various duties awaited me on my arrival. I had to sit with the girls
during their hour of study; then it was my turn to read prayers;
to see them to bed: afterwards I supped with the other teachers.
Even when we finally retired for the night, the inevitable Miss
Gryce was still my companion: we had only a short end of candle
in our candlestick, and I dreaded lest she should talk till it
was all burnt out; fortunately, however, the heavy supper she had
eaten produced a soporific effect: she was already snoring before
I had finished undressing. There still remained an inch of candle:
I now took out my letter; the seal was an initial F.; I broke it;
the contents were brief.

"If J.E., who advertised in the shire Herald of last Thursday,
possesses the acquirements mentioned, and if she is in a position
to give satisfactory references as to character and competency, a
situation can be offered her where there is but one pupil, a little girl,
under ten years of age; and where the salary is thirty pounds per annum.
J.E. is requested to send references, name, address, and all particulars
to the direction:"Mrs. Fairfax, Thornfield, near Millcote, shire."


I examined the document long: the writing was old fashioned and
rather uncertain, like that of an elderly lady. This circumstance
was satisfactory: a private fear had haunted me, that in thus
acting for myself, and by my own guidance, I ran the risk of getting
into some scrape; and, above all things, I wished the result of my
endeavours to be respectable, proper, en regle. I now felt that an
elderly lady was no bad ingredient in the business I had on hand.

Mrs. Fairfax! I saw her in a black gown and widow's cap; frigid,
perhaps, but not uncivil: a model of elderly English respectability.
Thornfield! that, doubtless, was the name of her house: a neat
orderly spot, I was sure; though I failed in my efforts to conceive
a correct plan of the premises. Millcote, shire; I brushed up
my recollections of the map of England, yes, I saw it; both the shire
and the town. shire was seventy miles nearer London than the remote
county where I now resided: that was a recommendation to me.

I longed to go where there was life and movement: Millcote
was a large manufacturing town on the banks of the A; a busy place
enough, doubtless: so much the better; it would be a complete
change at least. Not that my fancy was much captivated by the idea
of long chimneys and clouds of smoke "but," I argued, "Thornfield
will, probably, be a good way from the town." Here the socket
of the candle dropped, and the wick went out.

Next day new steps were to be taken; my plans could no longer be
confined to my own breast; I must impart them in order to achieve
their success. Having sought and obtained an audience of the
superintendent during the noontide recreation, I told her I had a
prospect of getting a new situation where the salary would be double
what I now received (for at Lowood I only got 15 pounds per annum);
and requested she would break the matter for me to Mr. Brocklehurst,
or some of the committee, and ascertain whether they would permit
me to mention them as references. She obligingly consented to
act as mediatrix in the matter. The next day she laid the affair
before Mr. Brocklehurst, who said that Mrs. Reed must be written to,
as she was my natural guardian. A note was accordingly addressed to
that lady, who returned for answer, that "I might do as I pleased:
she had long relinquished all interference in my affairs." This note
went the round of the committee, and at last, after what appeared
to me most tedious delay, formal leave was given me to better my
condition if I could; and an assurance added, that as I had always
conducted myself well, both as teacher and pupil, at Lowood, a
testimonial of character and capacity, signed by the inspectors of
that institution, should forthwith be furnished me.

This testimonial I accordingly received in about a month, forwarded
a copy of it to Mrs. Fairfax, and got that lady's reply, stating
that she was satisfied, and fixing that day fortnight as the period
for my assuming the post of governess in her house.

I now busied myself in preparations: the fortnight passed rapidly.
I had not a very large wardrobe, though it was adequate to my
wants; and the last day sufficed to pack my trunk, the same I
had brought with me eight years ago from Gateshead.

The box was corded, the card nailed on. In halfanhour the
carrier was to call for it to take it to Lowton, whither I myself
was to repair at an early hour the next morning to meet the coach.
I had brushed my black stuff travellingdress, prepared my bonnet,
gloves, and muff; sought in all my drawers to see that no article
was left behind; and now having nothing more to do, I sat down and
tried to rest. I could not; though I had been on foot all day, I
could not now repose an instant; I was too much excited. A phase
of my life was closing tonight, a new one opening tomorrow:
impossible to slumber in the interval; I must watch feverishly
while the change was being accomplished.

"Miss," said a servant who met me in the lobby, where I was wandering
like a troubled spirit, "a person below wishes to see you."

"The carrier, no doubt," I thought, and ran downstairs without
inquiry. I was passing the backparlour or teachers' sittingroom,
the door of which was half open, to go to the kitchen,
when some one ran out

"It's her, I am sure! I could have told her anywhere!" cried
the individual who stopped my progress and took my hand.

I looked: I saw a woman attired like a welldressed servant,
matronly, yet still young; very goodlooking, with black hair and
eyes, and lively complexion.

"Well, who is it?" she asked, in a voice and with a smile I half
recognised; "you've not quite forgotten me, I think, Miss Jane?"

In another second I was embracing and kissing her rapturously:
"Bessie! Bessie! Bessie!" that was all I said; whereat she half
laughed, half cried, and we both went into the parlour. By the
fire stood a little fellow of three years old, in plaid frock and
trousers.

"That is my little boy," said Bessie directly.

"Then you are married, Bessie?"

"Yes; nearly five years since to Robert Leaven, the coachman; and
I've a little girl besides Bobby there, that I've christened Jane."

"And you don't live at Gateshead?"

"I live at the lodge: the old porter has left."

"Well, and how do they all get on? Tell me everything about them,
Bessie: but sit down first; and, Bobby, come and sit on my knee,
will you?" but Bobby preferred sidling over to his mother.

"You're not grown so very tall, Miss Jane, nor so very stout,"
continued Mrs. Leaven. "I dare say they've not kept you too well
at school: Miss Reed is the head and shoulders taller than you
are; and Miss Georgiana would make two of you in breadth."

"Georgiana is handsome, I suppose, Bessie?"

"Very. She went up to London last winter with her mama, and there
everybody admired her, and a young lord fell in love with her: but
his relations were against the match; and what do you think?
he and Miss Georgiana made it up to run away; but they were found
out and stopped. It was Miss Reed that found them out: I believe
she was envious; and now she and her sister lead a cat
and dog life together; they are always quarrelling "

"Well, and what of John Reed?"

"Oh, he is not doing so well as his mama could wish. He went to
college, and he got plucked, I think they call it: and then
his uncles wanted him to be a barrister, and study the law: but he
is such a dissipated young man, they will never make much of him,
I think."

"What does he look like?"

"He is very tall: some people call him a finelooking young man;
but he has such thick lips."

"And Mrs. Reed?"

"Missis looks stout and well enough in the face, but I think she's
not quite easy in her mind: Mr. John's conduct does not please
her he spends a deal of money."

"Did she send you here, Bessie?"

"No, indeed: but I have long wanted to see you, and when I heard
that there had been a letter from you, and that you were going to
another part of the country, I thought I'd just set off, and get
a look at you before you were quite out of my reach."

"I am afraid you are disappointed in me, Bessie." I said this
laughing: I perceived that Bessie's glance, though it expressed
regard, did in no shape denote admiration.

"No, Miss Jane, not exactly: you are genteel enough; you look like
a lady, and it is as much as ever I expected of you: you were no
beauty as a child."

I smiled at Bessie's frank answer: I felt that it was correct, but
I confess I was not quite indifferent to its import: at eighteen
most people wish to please, and the conviction that they have not an
exterior likely to second that desire brings anything but gratification.

"I dare say you are clever, though," continued Bessie, by way of
solace. "What can you do? Can you play on the piano?"

"A little."

There was one in the room; Bessie went and opened it, and then asked
me to sit down and give her a tune: I played a waltz or two, and
she was charmed.

"The Miss Reeds could not play as well!" said she exultingly. "I
always said you would surpass them in learning: and can you draw?"

"That is one of my paintings over the chimneypiece." It was a
landscape in water colours, of which I had made a present to the
superintendent, in acknowledgment of her obliging mediation with
the committee on my behalf, and which she had framed and glazed.

"Well, that is beautiful, Miss Jane! It is as fine a picture as
any Miss Reed's drawingmaster could paint, let alone the young
ladies themselves, who could not come near it: and have you learnt
French?"

"Yes, Bessie, I can both read it and speak it."

"And you can work on muslin and canvas?"

"I can."

"Oh, you are quite a lady, Miss Jane! I knew you would be: you
will get on whether your relations notice you or not. There was
something I wanted to ask you. Have you ever heard anything from
your father's kinsfolk, the Eyres?"

"Never in my life."

"Well, you know Missis always said they were poor and quite
despicable: and they may be poor; but I believe they are as much
gentry as the Reeds are; for one day, nearly seven years ago, a
Mr. Eyre came to Gateshead and wanted to see you; Missis said you
were it school fifty miles off; he seemed so much disappointed, for
he could not stay: he was going on a voyage to a foreign country,
and the ship was to sail from London in a day or two. He looked
quite a gentleman, and I believe he was your father's brother."

"What foreign country was he going to, Bessie?"
"An island thousands of miles off, where they make wine
the butler did tell me."

"Madeira?" I suggested. "Yes, that is it that is the very word."

"So he went?"

"Yes; he did not stay many minutes in the house: Missis was very
high with him; she called him afterwards a 'sneaking tradesman.'
My Robert believes he was a winemerchant."

"Very likely," I returned; "or perhaps clerk or agent to a
winemerchant."

Bessie and I conversed about old times an hour longer, and then
she was obliged to leave me: I saw her again for a few minutes
the next morning at Lowton, while I was waiting for the coach. We
parted finally at the door of the Brocklehurst Arms there: each
went her separate way; she set off for the brow of Lowood Fell
to meet the conveyance which was to take her back to Gateshead, I
mounted the vehicle which was to bear me to new duties and a new
life in the unknown environs of Millcote.

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte Deluxe Edition Chapter 11.>