A. N. Dedeaux - An English Education Read online

  All this was told me later. I was below-stairs aiding Bessie at the time. The three children watched the infliction from an upstairs window, and I simply saw the girl moaning and sobbing in the main kitchen later. Despite Bessie's stories of Lowood I looked on my coming schooling as a blessing. I would be glad to be quit of Gateshead and told her as much. Even for me life seemed to have a gleam of sunshine.

  Thrrrr-wupp!

  FIVE!

  "Aaah!"

  Merciful Heaven! The stroke went right through me. The cut was fiendishly low and full of whip. My buttocks quivered like jellies and I felt them slipping together with my sweat as I clenched them in my agony.

  He had taken me cleverly on a previous welt and the pain seemed to mount and mount unbearably. There was a good solid lump now under my bum on the right. I felt a pure panic that he should continue to work there.

  I rolled my head convulsively round. "Please, sir" I panted, "it's burning so. Oh but please cut up at me higher. You are slicing me in two . . . like a razor. Oooooh!"

  At the same time I strove not to unclench. I saw him watching, biding his time till I slackened, and spread, when he would hit once more into the fatty, relaxed flesh.

  Dear God! I closed my eyes, trying to pick up courage from those early days at Lowood. . . .

  5

  Five o'clock had hardly struck on the morning of the 19th of January, when Bessie brought a candle into my room and found me already up and neatly dressed. I was to leave by a coach which passed the lodge gates at 6 a.m.

  Bessie was the only person yet risen and as we passed through the hall and went out at the front door, "Goodbye hateful Gateshead," said I.

  "Oh, Miss Jane! Don't say so."

  "Why not? What have I known here but knocks?"

  "You were rather put upon, that's certain. However, I shouldn't like to be in your shoes, where you are going now."

  The moon was set, and it was very dark. Bessie carried a lantern, whose light glanced on wet steps and gravel road soddened by a recent thaw. Raw and chill was the winter morning; my teeth 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, and shortly after that hour had struck, the distant roll of wheels announced the coming coach. I went to the door and watched its lamps approach rapidly through the gloom.

  "Is she going by herself?" asked the porter's wife.

  "Yes."

  "And how far is it?"

  "Fifty miles."

  The coach drew up. There it was at the gates with its four horses and its top laden with passengers. The guard and coachman urged haste. My trunk was hoisted up, my own destination given. There was some merriment then, since my box was set beside a large bundle of shiny canes, on the same errand.

  "The new batch for Lowood, special made from London," said the grinning guard. Bessie clung to me with kisses and then I was whirled away into the unknown.

  I remember but little of that journey. I only know that we appeared to travel over hundreds of miles of road. We passed through several towns. The coach stopped, the horses were taken out. The passengers went into an inn for dinner. Once more the guard stowed me away in the coach, sounded his hollow horn and away we rattled.

  The afternoon came on wet and misty. As it waned into dusk I dropped asleep. The sudden cessation of motion awoke me. The coach door was open and a person like a servant was standing at it. I saw her face in the light of the lamps.

  "Is there a girl called Jane Eyre here? And a bundle of new canes?"

  "Yes, yes."

  Amid more laughter canes, trunks, and my poor self, stiff with long sitting, were all handed down. Rain, wind, and darkness filled the air. I discerned a stone wall, spiked with gaffs at the top, and a door open in it. A tablet bore this inscription:

  "Lowood Institution. Built by Naomi Brocklehurst, of Brocklehurst Hall, in this county. 'Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven! St. Matt. v. 16."

  I passed in with my new guide, who locked the door behind us. There was now visible a house or houses—for the building spread far—with many windows, and lights burning in some. We went up a broad pebbly path, splashing wet, and were admitted at a door. I was led through many passages to a large room with a fire, at which I warmed my numb fingers. The hearth light showed me a sort of kitchen, with mahogany furniture and shining copper pans.

  By its light, and that of some candles, I saw several fresh, pretty faces smiling at me. They were maidservants, I surmised, all in their twenties, mostly black-haired, and made up so highly their faces seemed as if lacquered. At first I supposed this to be the lighting, but it was not. They grinned at me across a wide refectory table.

  "She looks tired."

  "And hungry too, no doubt. Let her have some supper before Nell takes her off."

  "Is this the first time you have left your parents to come to school, girl?"

  "I have no parents," I said.

  Ravenously did I eat the good, piquant food set before me, my back warmed by the ruddy fire. As my spirits returned, my eyes cleared and I glanced at the lively figures moving about beyond. To my astonishment I saw that their uniform of impeccably fitting black satin, close on the body, concluded well above the knee. They had tiny lawn aprons and caps, and their smoky stockings were taut as sausage casings. Their heels of glace kid were sheer stilettos. They were a glossy, merry bunch and I heard them undoing the canes and slicing them through the air as I ate.

  "These new ones are beauties."

  "And look at the tips."

  Another juicy whistle made me blink.

  "Scatcherd will love that!"

  Did they really need so many, I wondered dumbly; and as I did so, a laughing servant brought in two more bundles from without. A girl approached me.

  "Were you caned where you came from?"

  "Sometimes."

  "These are only what are here called classroom canes, used every day. They are very thin and sting atrociously, but they don't bruise badly. The Duty canes are altogether other, they take all the breath out of you at once."

  They looked longer and leaner and suppler than John Reed's variety, and my skin sensed their sting already. Just then a big heavy blonde woman, of about twenty-nine, strode in, and the maids quieted deferentially.

  "Was that the last of the new-knicks to arrive?" she asked.

  "Yes, she's at table, eating, Nell."

  The newcomer came* and stood before me, hands on her massive hips. She was bizarrely attired and of a type to inspire both awe and admiration. Her thick flaxen hair was drawn tightly off her broad pellucid brow and collected in a long stiff plait behind. She had a Germanic face and was entirely clad in black leather which creaked as she moved. There was a very short elbow-length black cape, what appeared to be a tightly laced corselet, a skirt yet shorter than that of the maids just reaching to gleaming black boots, wrinkleless at thigh. "Is your name Joan Eyre?"

  "Yes, Miss." I added, "Only it's Jane Eyre."

  "You must call me Nell. You call all mistresses Miss and the head Ma'am, but you call us maids by our first name. I am the Head Maid." Perhaps her eyes saw mine look somewhat apprehensively at the long black switch which I now discerned clipped to her belt at the right, for she smiled and went on, "Don't worry. You will never be punished by me. No Lowood girl is chastised by a maid, but we help in the administration of correction and can report you for such, if you are uncivil to us. We try to see that each new girl gets as much such correction as possible her first quarter here. For her own sake. Are you finished your meal, then?"

  "I don't think I want any more at present, thank you," I said.

  "Then come with me."

  She led me out, strongly striding so that I had almost to run to keep up with her. Her splendid back caught the occas
ional lights as she led me down long indefatigable corridors and up stone steps to a far wing of the house. Here was a dormitory, dimly lit, with a blackboard outside and one tenant within, already abed. I was introduced to a tiny dark girl of perhaps twelve called Joan Walker, another "new-knick" like myself.

  I should explain that the four new girls for the quarter had been, as custom dictated, convened a week before the true start of term and the arrival of the rest of the school. Only a few mistresses were present when we arrived. It was a period of preparation and training, during which we were exonerated from all discipline, and the last day of it, as Mr. Brocklehurst had predicted, was spent locked up with the school rules.

  The next day dawned fine and clear and during a large breakfast in the deserted Great Hall my hopes began to rise. Besides Joan Walker, there were Susan Cuningham and Estella Moore, a girl with mousy hair and a rather plain face yet almost as big as me. We were to learn the building every nook and cranny, and to be tested on our sense of locality, too. Our orientation was in the capable hands of Nell, the Head Maid, who looked, if anything, even more spectacular than before.

  Particularly impressive was the Long Chamber, at whose mention matrons in after-life were known to turn pale, an immense hall with a fireplace either side, chandeliers pendent from the ceiling, and a dais at one end. It was also, of course, empty. We were told by our sumptuous cicerone that it was a gathering place, where the Head made addresses, and that no girl was ever allowed to speak in it, without first being spoken to. Nell led us to a large black block, some three feet high, a little way before the dais. It was liberally supplied with straps and a little ledge in front. Somehow none of us had to be told that it was an implement of punishment.

  "This is where," our guide told us impassively, "for more serious offenses girls are publicly birched. You will be whipped here without quarter, for it is rare that a girl can go through Lowood without bending over this block a few times. It's usually two or three dozen with a long rod of five or six well-pickled withes, which are then bound with wire. We don't believe in clemency, I fear. You kneel here," she pointed to the ledge and then demonstrated for us, kneeling on it. "And bend forward, so," and she leant over the transverse sloping ledge, her short skirt hiking until the bottoms of taut black leather knickers showed. We four stared, bemused. The great strapping thighs, in their bursting boots, parted slighdy. "Legs together, or apart. And sometimes even feet back, so. You'll get it bare-bum with plenty of time. An order of four dozen can be drawn out by a clever mistress, like Miss Scatcherd, over fifteen minutes, with the girl writhing like a cut worm all that time." Nell stood up. Perhaps catching something in our eyes she added with a casual smile, "You won't see me thrashed, if that's what you're thinking. I keep the maids in order, with this." She tapped her switch. "I'm responsible to Miss Temple directly. If anything is amiss I get far more severely flogged than any mere girl." She turned haughtily, then added, "but I do enjoy seeing you whipped. If I ever have to secure a girl for correction, believe me, by the time I've finished she can't so much as twitch her clit."

  It was a dismayed little troop that then followed their mentor round the classrooms. These were bare and utilitarian, each desk provided with stocks, backboards in evidence, and also racks of canes on one wall or another. There was a zeal to punish in evidence, all right. We witnessed it that evening. Our rounds were concluded with a visit to a typical mistress' private chambers, cheerful enough, and then to a typical Chastisement Chamber nearby, as such was called, and this was the opposite of cheerful, being provided with straps, canes, switches, benches and bolts, enough to bring a regiment to order.

  Finally, our guide tapped on the large oak door at the foot of some stairs. We were ushered into the large comfortable mistress' common-room. Here two young laughing women, both clad in amazingly brief pleated skirts of a soft tartan stuff, and close black sweaters, were practising swipes with what were evidently some of the new canes sent up.

  They looked at us and smiled, but paid no other attention, as we came in. Nell whispered "Curtsey," and we dropped our knees like soldiers on parade. The two mistresses continued their work, or play, which they seemed to enjoy very much. They now took turns in selecting canes and whacking them into the upright of a stout leathern-covered chair, producing puffs of dust and indentations in the material. Each took about two lively paces and, skirt swinging around ample hips, thudded the whippy stick into the stuff with all her might. Before it bounced back the cane in hand would be a liquid yellow flash, joined by a desolatingly deep swish of separated air.

  I think we four all gulped. I know I did. My heart was in my boots. Such intensity of concentration, such nicety of aim, such furious velocity of stroke ... it was far far sharper than that of "Master" John Reed.

  The maid said, pointing to the shorter of the pair, a red-headed woman, "That is Miss Smith. She is Scottish. The other is Miss Miller. She teaches Math. Miss Smith is very strict."

  After a while more of this edifying spectacle the taller of the two, Miss Miller, strolled over to us. She was a buxom and splendid-looking brunette, with downy dark brows, rather low, and blue eyes; the pleats of her skirt trembled at the top of her voluptuous thighs and the cane in her hand quivered and shivered livingly. But she herself was smiling and cheerful, as she confronted our cheerless rank.

  "Are these the four new-knicks, Nell?"

  "Yes, Miss. I'm showing them round."

  Miss Miller looked Estella up and down with a roguish smile. "You're so rumpy you'll scarcely feel a thing. Which one is the twice three?"

  "Eyre, Miss. Here. Three morning and night," Nell pronounced primly.

  The mistress stood by me and put a hand under my skirt, cupping and squeezing a hinder cheek. "Mmm. Lovely. I can hardly wait." I thought she gave me a wink as she went, and altogether I had a distinct sensation this mistress liked me. I should get on well with her. Despite the menace of personal chastisement there was a cheerful womanly complicity I sensed already at Lowood, and I felt far from the brutal male world of Gateshead. At least I should not be buggered here.

  We curtseyed and left the room. Outside it Nell addressed us with a frown:

  "There is one room you will not see, until you enter it for punishment. That is so that the effect shall be greater. The Duty Room is below and you will enter it only and always for punishment. All Demerits are paid off there on the day of commission. There are fifty-five girls at Lowood school this term, eight of them monitors and praepostors. There is no head girl here. The rest are divided into three classes, by virtue of seniority: Major, Minor, and Minimus. You will graduate into the third of these after a month. When a Minimus, or Minnie, as she is called, incurs a Demerit, she pins a badge with her fault on it on her breast for the rest of the day and receives three cuts with a Duty cane that evening. A Minor gets four. A Major five. You may not think three cuts very much, but with the Duty cane it is all you want. I shall show you some of these tomorrow and you will help wax or size them. They are strong, heavy canes, yet with plenty of whip since extremely long. Mr. Brocklehurst orders them especially and they leave weals as thick as your fingers. Moreover, don't forget that a Minnie incurs more Demerits than her seniors, as a rule, sometimes three or four in a single day, so that the extent of her continual fear can be imagined. You could not possibly take more than four with a Duty and remain still, so that all girls are well secured over the board for a flogging with it. No, I'm afraid there's nothing for it when you enter the Duty Room but to get it into your heads that you're going to suffer severely."

  With this admonition we were dismissed for the day. The next was spent putting up birches and waxing canes and oiling straps and leathern tawses. The birches were especially bloodthirsty implements, consisting of five or so (they were graded) thin limbs, toughly budded, culled from the grounds and then latticed with thin wire by our hands. We were told the latter grazed unbearably and that a mistress always "drew" (i.e. blood) after a dozen. If the skin was well flitc
hed on the right, a lotion was painted on which helped it heal but stung insufferably for a time.

  This day too, we were minutely measured, in a room at the top of the house. The Matron, a Mrs. Harden, had not arrived,but this was her office. Not only was every centimeter of our outward person chronicled in a book, but the dimensions of every orifice—yes, even the length of our nostrils—also. This was done by a glove stretcher, and it hurt. Hymens were pronounced all still whole, to much merry tittering by the maids. Then we bent over for a sort of cylinder to be inserted up the anus; this was then enlarged in some manner, to check the dilation of the entrail. Thanks to John Reed's attentions I took this without fuss, but Joan Walker screamed and had to be held. Finally, each pubis was shaven clean. Joan had almost no hair, but Jane had a lot, and I was sorry to see it go. However, the grinny maids seemed especially to admire my plump lips and warm, close-set seam.