Chapter 1 Gateshead

1 There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had, indeed, been wandering in the leafless garden for an hour in the morning, but since dinner, the cold winter wind had brought with it such dark clouds and such heavy rain that further exercise out of doors was impossible.

2 I was glad of it. I never liked long walks, especially on cold afternoons. Coming home in the twilight was terrible to me—with frozen fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the scoldings of Bessie the nurse, and by the consciousness of how weak my thin little body was, compared with those of Eliza, John and Georgiana Reed.

3 Eliza, John and Georgiana were now gathered round their mama in the drawing room at Gateshead, their home. She lay resting by the fireside, and with her loved ones near her, for the time neither quarrelling nor crying, she looked perfectly happy. She had dismissed me from the group, saying that she regretted she was forced to keep me at a distance, but that until I tried earnestly to develop a more friendly and attractive nature, she really could not admit me to pleasures intended only for contented, happy little children.

4 'But what have I done?' I asked.

5 'Jane, I don't like questions or objections. Children should not speak to their elders in such a way. Sit down somewhere, and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent.'

6 A small breakfast room lay next to the drawing room. I crept in there. It contained bookshelves, and I soon took possession of a book, making sure that it should be one full of pictures. I climbed on to the window-seat, and gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged. There, having drawn the red curtains, I felt doubly sheltered.

7 Every picture told a story, mysterious often to my undeveloped understanding, yet always deeply interesting—as interesting as the stories that Bessie sometimes began on winter evenings, when she happened to be in a good temper, holding our eager attention with memories of love and adventure taken from old songs and stories.

8 With the book on my knee, I was happy. I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon.

9 The voice of John Reed called me. Then he paused. He found the room empty.

10 'Where in the world is she?' he cried. 'Lizzy! Georgy!' he called to his sisters. 'Jane is not here. Tell Mama she has run out into the rain. Bad animal!'

11 'It is lucky that I drew the curtain,' I thought, and I wished with all my heart that he might not discover my hiding place. Nor would he have found it out for himself, as he was neither sharp-sighted nor intelligent, but Eliza put her head in at the door, and said at once:

12 'She is in the window-seat, surely, John.'

13 I came out immediately, because I trembled at the idea of being dragged out by John.

14 'What do you want?' I asked.

15 'Say, "What do you want, Master Reed?"' was the answer. 'I want you to come here.' Seating himself in an armchair, he made a sign to me to approach and stand before him.

16 John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years, four years older than I, large and fat for his age, with an unhealthy skin, coarse features and thick arms and legs. He ought now to have been at school, but his mama had taken him home for a month or two, 'on account of his delicate health'. His schoolmaster said that his condition was the result of greed, but his mother's heart turned from such a severe opinion, and she preferred to believe that he worked too hard and missed his home.

17 John was not very fond of his mother and sisters, and he hated me. He treated me badly, and punished me, not two or three times in the week, nor once or twice in the day, but continually. I had no protection from him. The servants did not like to offend their young master, and Mrs Reed never appeared to see him strike me or to hear him insult me, though he did both sometimes in her presence—more frequently, however, behind her back.

18 Being by long habit obedient to John, I came up to his chair. He spent about three minutes in putting out his tongue at me. I knew that he would soon strike, and while I waited fearfully for the blow, I considered his disgusting and ugly appearance. I wonder whether he read the thought in my face, for suddenly, without speaking, he struck sharply and hard. I almost fell, and on recovering my balance, drew back a step from his chair.

19 'That is for questioning Mama,' he said, 'and for creeping like a thief behind curtains, and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes ago, you rat!'

20 I was so accustomed to John Reed's insults that I never had any idea of replying to them. My care was how to receive the blow that would certainly follow.

21 'What were you doing behind the curtain?' he asked.

22 'I was reading.'

23 'Show me the book.'

24 I returned to the window and fetched it in silence.

25 'You have no right to take our books. You are a poor relation, Mama says. You have no money. Your father left you none. You ought to beg, and not live here with gentlemen's children like us, and eat the same meals as we do, and wear clothes at our mama's expense. Now, I'll teach you to interfere with my bookshelves, because they are mine. All the house is mine, or will be in a few years. Go and stand by the door, out of the way of the mirror and the windows.'

26 I did so, not at first realising his intention, but when I saw him lift and balance the book and stand in the act of aiming it, I sprang aside with a cry of alarm. Not soon enough, however. The heavy thing was thrown, it hit me, and I fell, striking my head against the door and cutting it. The cut bled, and the pain was sharp. My extreme fear had passed its limit, and changed to other feelings.

27 'Wicked and cruel boy!' I said. 'You are like a murderer—you are like a slave-driver—you are like the evil rulers of ancient Rome!'

28 'What! What!' he cried. 'Did she say that to me? Did you hear her, Eliza and Georgiana? I'll tell Mama! But first—'

29 He ran straight at me. I felt him grasp my hair and shoulder. He had attacked a dangerous thing: I really thought him a murderer. I felt a drop or two of blood from my head running down my neck, and my sense of suffering for the moment conquered my fear. I fought him madly. I don't very well know what I did with my hands, but he called me 'Rat! Rat!' and wept aloud. Help was near him. His sisters had run for Mrs Reed, who had gone upstairs. Now she came upon the scene, followed by Bessie and by Abbot, her maid. We were separated. I heard the words:

30 'Oh! What a wicked little thing, to fly at Master John like that!'

31 'Did ever anybody see such evil temper!'

32 Then Mrs Reed commanded:

33 'Take her away to the red room, and lock her in there.'