Adèle

[kev67]

I am nearly at the end of Volume I. Jane has become a governess at Thornfield Hall. Unless my memory is faulty, I don't think Jane has asked some obvious questions, which seems unlike her. Who are Adèle's parents? What relationship does Mr Rochester have with her? If he is not her father, why has he taken responsibility for her upbringing? Is there a Mrs Rochester? Surely it would be unusual for a man at his age and position not to be married. It's not exactly nosy for a governess to want to know who all the people are that would have a direct interest in the girl's education. Mrs Fairfax comes across as quite evasive, but she could hardly evade a direct question on the subject of Adèle's parentage without the Jane Eyre thinking there was something very fishy going on.

[kiki1982]

Well, that is true, but... there are several reasons why this kind of discrepancy hits us.

1. One did not ask pertinent questions like that. Point is, a Mrs Fairfax, who turns out to be a housekeeper for her relative, seeks a governess for a child of such-and-such age. That's it. Why and what has happened to the mother, how the child came to be, is of no matter, to the governess/servants.
Of course, you coud gossip and everything (you bet that happened!) but you did not ask straight. We are in the 19th century.
1.a We are in the 19th century: men did as they pleased. Therefore, bastard chidren like Adèle were rife, were not thought too badly about (if they were like Adèle) and were public secrets. If Jane was a little less naïve (I think we are over-estimating her in that respect) then she would have done 2 +2, certainy as Adèle was partly French... :brow:
1.b Rochester could have had a wife and she could have died giving birth to her first daughter (Adèle). If there were no evident 'relics' of this woman (portraits, miniatures, etc.), then you didn't ask. Maybe it was to painful, who knows.
1.c Children like Adèle ere not only rife, they were also tolerated. Maybe, like Miss Smith in Emma, they couldn't count on a really good catch (a squire, at least not if they weren't lords' bastards...), but they could get a place in society. When I was researching this novel sevral years ago, I read somewhere that mistresses like Céline often at a certain point left the child behind to be cared for by their fathers, who then assumed responsibility, as a man did in those days (custody was ever and always given to the father, not to the mother). So, even if Adèle was a bastard child and even if there was no mother, Jane woud not have thought too much about it.

2. I said I think we are over-estimating Jane, here. In my opinion, granted, she is strong-willed and does have a brain, but she does nonetheless come from a school which she has never left in 10 years. Before that, she was born and then raised on her uncle's estate. She never left that either. She is intelligent, has a will and principles, but she is not a modern woman. Despite or maybe just because some of the things she says, I think we, as modern readers, take her for a modern woman. In fact, she is devoid of any real knowledge of the outside world, unless it is Gateshead, Lowood or contained in books. Thus, she has no real knowledge of the practices of the world but from what she has read in books (and we all know how true that is...).
So, I think we are over-estimating her perceptiveness, here. In fact, to me, she is vulnerable because she has had a sheltered life and is thrown in the way of this man who is desperate, but aso cunning.

[kev67]

Surely Jane would need to know who Adèle's parents were, just so she can avoid putting her foot in it. For example. I doubt Jane would want to risk Adèle breaking out in tears because in ignorance she had said something insensitive. What if she asked something about her mother, not knowing that her mother had died only a couple of months before. She'd also want to be careful what she said around her employer. Mrs Fairfax is another employee like herself, so she could ask her these sorts of questions. Jane asked Mrs Fairfax whether she liked Mr Rochester as a person. Mrs Fairfax was a little evasive in giving an answer, but at least Jane felt that she could ask the question of her. If not Mrs Fairfax, she could presumably ask the nurse.

Jane is bound to be very curious about whether Adèle is Mr Rochester's daughter or not. If it turns out that Adèle is Mr Rochester's niece, or perhaps the orphan daughter of a dead friend, or that Mr Rochester is a widower, that casts him in moral and trustworthy light. However, if Adèle is Mr Rochester's illegitimate daughter, then Jane is going to start wondering is he a womaniser. If he is a womaniser, what happens if he tries to seduce her? Would she like him to try to seduce her, or needn't she worry being so small and plain.

[kiki1982]

Come to think of it, when Jane meets her litte pupil Adèle the morning after she arrives, I believe the girl says something about her mother being gone to the virgin Mary (i.e. died). Although I doubt in the context of the time, any reader would have believed that.

I think, if it was about Rochester's wife, people would have assumed the woman had died. If it was about his mistress, they would have assumed she left their daughter in his care, as will later surface.

Mrs Fairfax is a servant, but she is a servant with standing. She is the manager of the estate in household terms (for the rest, Rochester must have had a steward unless he also entrusted Mrs Fairfix with the finances, which is doubtful) and thus is every woman servant's boss. Jane as the governess has an ambiguous role and is more on an equal footing with her than, say, Sophie or Leah, but still Mrs Fairfax is her boss and will dismiss her if she misbehaves. In the absence of a lady of the house (wife, sister, aunt or whatever relative of Rochester) and Rochester himself, she has the last word. So Jane can be curious, but if there is no information to had from this woman and if she remains secretive, then Jane will have to abide by that.

Men in those days were allowed to have mistresses and were not really womanisers if they did. Thought Queen Victoria and her prince made the public nature of love outside marriage somewhat less and certainly the middle classes made this pretty much unacceptable morally, people like Rochester still did as they pleased. Maybe a little les public than in Regency times. Rochester will turn out to be a womaniser, but only because he had a string of mistresses. Having a string of mistresses shows that he cannot be constant and the kind of mistress he takes is a also dodgy. The mere idea of 'a mistress' was not immoral at all.
As it is, when Jane arrives, there is no reason to presume because there is one illegitimate child, that there are a string of women he seduced.
If he is a man of the world, he would not even consider Jane, because she is a servant, partly of working class stock, although connected to that family in Gateshead. He would naturally go for a noblewoman or rich woman at least, if he wanted company. As long as the woman in question had provided her husband with an heir and he was not of the jealous sort, that was acceptable.

Despite being naïve on how seduction worked, Jane must still have been conscious of her role in society (Mr Brocklehurst must have made damn sure his budding governesses knew this) and that was that. She was educated working class and her employers would either be private gentlemen or schools. If she was ambitious and saved up some money or got to higher post in such a school, like Miss Temple, she could maybe get a vicar or a gentleman farmer, but she could not dream of a gentleman like Rochester.

To me, the idea that he would set out to seduce her would not even have crossed her mind in the first place. Similarly as in The Tenant of Willdfell Hall, the protagonist decides that, because a woman he knows loved him ardently SPOILER has inherited a vast estate SPOILER OVER, she can certainly not consider marrying him now. Despite what her feelings once were.

To us that is nonsense, but then it was all very true. And those same feelings will cross Jane's mind further in the novel.

[kev67]

Come to think of it, when Jane meets her litte pupil Adèle the morning after she arrives, I believe the girl says something about her mother being gone to the virgin Mary (i.e. died).

You're right, she does. Reading chapter 11 again, it seems Adèle's parentage was addressed.

"Shall I have the pleasure of seeing Miss Fairfax to-night?" I
asked, when I had partaken of what she offered me.

"What did you say, my dear? I am a little deaf," returned the good
lady, approaching her ear to my mouth.

I repeated the question more distinctly.

"Miss Fairfax? Oh, you mean Miss Varens! Varens is the name of
your future pupil."

"Indeed! Then she is not your daughter?"

"No,--I have no family."

I should have followed up my first inquiry, by asking in what way
Miss Varens was connected with her; but I recollected it was not
polite to ask too many questions: besides, I was sure to hear in
time.


: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :


"And the little girl--my pupil!"

"She is Mr. Rochester's ward; he commissioned me to find a governess
for her.


: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :


"Can you understand her when she runs on so fast?" asked Mrs.
Fairfax.

I understood her very well, for I had been accustomed to the fluent
tongue of Madame Pierrot.

"I wish," continued the good lady, "you would ask her a question or
two about her parents: I wonder if she remembers them?"

"Adele," I inquired, "with whom did you live when you were in that
pretty clean town you spoke of?"

"I lived long ago with mama; but she is gone to the Holy Virgin.
Mama used to teach me to dance and sing, and to say verses. A great
many gentlemen and ladies came to see mama, and I used to dance
before them, or to sit on their knees and sing to them: I liked it.
Shall I let you hear me sing now?"

She had finished her breakfast, so I permitted her to give a
specimen of her accomplishments. Descending from her chair, she
came and placed herself on my knee; then, folding her little hands
demurely before her, shaking back her curls and lifting her eyes to
the ceiling, she commenced singing a song from some opera. It was
the strain of a forsaken lady, who, after bewailing the perfidy of
her lover, calls pride to her aid; desires her attendant to deck her
in her brightest jewels and richest robes, and resolves to meet the
false one that night at a ball, and prove to him, by the gaiety of
her demeanour, how little his desertion has affected her.

The subject seemed strangely chosen for an infant singer; but I
suppose the point of the exhibition lay in hearing the notes of love
and jealousy warbled with the lisp of childhood; and in very bad
taste that point was: at least I thought so.


It's still not clear why Mr Rochester decided to take responsibility for little Miss Varens. It may just have been an act of charity. Adèle's mother is made to sound like a performer with loose morals. No father is mentioned. Does Mrs Fairfax know more than she's letting on?

[kiki1982]

If Jane doesn't get it, then surely Mrs Fairfax got it, I suppose... As I said, the reading public of the time would have assumed that Adèle's mother had not died but just left her daughter because she was inconvenient (that is really what did happen for real!) and Rochester had taken her on as his ward, because naturally, she was his (or so he thought, that's the million dollar question, of course, athough he does think so).
Mrs Fairfax was not going to tell anyone straight if they did not get it themselves... You did not tell such indiscretions... unfortunately. And you did not ask them either; it was a game of silence and euphemism, as Jane intimates.

The fact that Jane came out of a hole like Lowood and has led a sheltered life means that she is quite gullible and vulnerable in this respect.

I would like to know what opera that was. That could be a clue as to what is really behind it, or it could be foreshadowing (Charlotte Brontë liked that).

hmm

[kev67]

Chapter xiv makes it quite clear. Mr Rochester took responsibility for Adéle because he was fond of her mother. She was a singer or actress and no doubt Rochester's mistress. He says she charmed him out of a lot of gold. Adéle, who is probably not Rochester's daughter, is just like her.

I thought she might have been a daughter of Bertha, but there's no plot hole.

[kev67]

Despite being naïve on how seduction worked, Jane must still have been conscious of her role in society (Mr Brocklehurst must have made damn sure his budding governesses knew this) and that was that. She was educated working class and her employers would either be private gentlemen or schools. If she was ambitious and saved up some money or got to higher post in such a school, like Miss Temple, she could maybe get a vicar or a gentleman farmer, but she could not dream of a gentleman like Rochester.


I don't think Jane was quite working class. There was a good bit in chapter iii where Mr Lloyd asks her whether she'd like to live with the Eyre side of her family.

Mr Lloyd a second time produced his snuff-box.
"Don't you think Gateshead Hall a very beautiful house?" asked he. "Are you not very grateful to have such a fine place to live at?"

"It's not my house, sir; and Abbot says I have less right to be here than a servant."

"Pooh! you can't be silly enough to wish to leave such a splendid place?"

"If I had anywhere else to go I should be glad to leave it; but I can never get away from Gateshead until I am a woman."

"Perhaps you may - who knows? Have you any relations besides Mrs Reed?"

"I don't know: I asked Aunt Reed once, and she said I possibly might have some poor, low relations called Eyre, but she knew nothing about them."

"If you had such, would you like to go to them?"

I reflected. Poverty looks grim to grown people; still more so to children: they have not much idea of industrious, working, respectable poverty; they can think of the word only connected with ragged clothes, scanty food, fireless grates, rude manners and debasing vices: poverty for me was synonymous with degradation.
"No; I should not like to belong to poor people," was my reply.

"Not even if they were kind to you?"

I shook my head: I could not see how poor people had the means of being kind; and then to learn to speak like them, to adopt their manners, to be uneducated, to grow up like one of the poor women I saw sometimes nursing their children or washing their clothes at the cottage doors of the village of Gateshead: no, I was not heroic enough to purchase liberty at the price of caste.

[kiki1982]

No, actually she's not working class, you're right. Let's say she's poor low middle class.

He mother was a Reed (sister of Jane's uncle) of Gateshead with a lot of money, fell in love with a clergyman she wasnt allowed to marry got no money and was cast out of the family. Then the couple both died in poverty and left behind their so-month old (?) daughter Jane and the latter's uncle fet sorry. He had been pressurised into casting his sister out of the family as well, if I properly recall. It was mainly his wife who didn't like her sister-in-law marrying beneath her, if I aso properly recall.

Have you ever wondered why they ask the apothercry to come round when Jane is ill rather than the doctor? When servants were ill, the masters called the apothecry. When the master or his family was ill, they called the doctor/physician. Jane is inferior.

She was not working class in terms that she was the daughter of a labourer, but she still had no money, nor standing like Ingram who had not a large dowry either but had undiluted stock at least

I'm not sure whether Rochester does not feel Adèle is his daughter. I can imagine that there was some doubt in the case when he witnessed Céline cheating on him, but I think deep down, he does not doubt she is his daughter. Rochester likes to mislead people and also tends to mislead himself.

Mere charity (i.e. the poor child was destitute, someone had to assume responsibility for it) I don't think he would have done if he felt that she wasn't his. Unless he sees Céline so much in Adèle that he projects his feelings for Céline into Adèle.
After all he could have done like Mrs Reed and stuffed Adèle in a school (like Miss Harriet Smith in Austen's Emma too). Why would he keep her with him if he didn't like her and even loved her deeply?

Indeed POSSIBLE SPOILER when Jane leaves, Rochester sends Adèle off to school (would that be the real end of his affection for Céline?). When he and Jane marry, Adèle is sent for, but caring for a blind man and teaching Adèle proves too difficult, so they send her off to a nicer school. However, at 16 when her scholing is finished, she comes back home and will obviously be marketed in society to find a husband (I presume). Possibly with a (modest) dowry. In other words, associated with Rochester at least as her illegitimate father. Rochester would not have done this if he was not reasonably sure she was his daughter. SPOILER OVER.

[kev67]

I don't know if there is anything more in the book about Adele, but I supposed she was not Rochester's daughter because surely he would not have been very happy about her upbringing if she were: for example, teaching her to sit on gentlemen's laps and sing operatic torch songs to them. How long did he know Celine? Did she already have a little girl when he met her?

Rochester has so much money he can afford a nurse and a governess. Thornfield Hall seems to be where he keeps his problem relatives. He remarked to Jane on their second meeting about the awfulness of charity schools. He even knew of Mr Brocklehurst (which makes me wonder whether he was a donor).

When I was writing out the passage from chapter iii, I wondered why it was Mr Lloyd and not Dr, but I did not know the difference between a doctor, physician or apothecary.

[kiki1982]

That's a good point about her upbringing... But we do have to see the chronological order of things:

Céline and Rochester must at least have had an affair for 15 months, because I believe he mentions somewhere that at the point he leaves her, she had six months before born a child she professed was his. Men were not really concerned with babies in that age. Anyway, he leaves her six months after Adèle's birth. Being Rochester and the rage he must have been in, I don't think he spared another thought for the girl.
It begs the question how he got to know about her having been abandoned. Maybe Céline left a note to those two people who took care of her (and obviously told her her mother had died).

At the time Adèle was old enough to sing to ladies and gentlemen, Rochester was raving through Europe with his Clara and Giacyntha, not caring about what had happened to either Céline or his daughter.

Rochester is not poor, but after Céline he was 'nearly ruined'. What that means is not quite certain, but before her, he must have been seriously loaded. Thornfield Hall is a pretty old place, so it is worth quite a bit, also acquired a second smaller estate (Ferndean), Rochester himself got µ30,000 upon marrying Bertha (which would have given him some £3,000 i per annum income). Possibly, there are investments in the West Indies, because his father knew this person Mason who was a trader there (maybe he says something about this later). Let's say his initial fortune (active and passive goods together) was some £100,000 - a Darcy; Darcys could easily leave their estate behind for half of their lives and not feel it in their purses -and let's say Céline's plucking got him down to a modest £5,000 to 7,000 per annum (a Bingley) then still he is quite well off. Although, somewhere else in the novel (the gypsy conversation) it is mentioned that his fortune was not a third of what was suppposed... As he said this himself, I wonder whether you have to take that seriously. Certainly seeing the situation (I will say no more).

He can afford a nurse, governess and a household, although it's a pretty small one. The question is why it is so small? Is it because he's never there and considers that he can do with a small one, or is it because he can't pay for an elaborate one?

I don't think he had to consider a charity school for Adèle. The reason Jane went to charity school is that her aunt frankly couldn't be arsed and wanted to cast her off. Unlike Fanny Price in Mansfield Park who is educated by her noble uncle despite her mother marrying a lowly navy officer, in the hope that she will find a suitable husband without having a dowry, but with accomplishments and good sense, Jane cannot expect such charity. Her aunt could have sent her to a better school (a ladies' finishing school or something), but she didn't want to pay the fees, so she sent her to Lowood's hell hole instead, condemning her to a life of servitude (she doesn't even send for her when Jane's education is finished).
Adèle, on the other hand, does not go to school. Rochester says somewhere that he can't afford a school. I am not sure that is true. Although fees for a proper comfortable school could be pretty high (as they are now), that statement doesn't fit somehow with what happens later.

I think, secretly, when he comes home, he likes to see her to remind him of good times. Spoiling her rotten with presents, frocks and things. If he truly wanted to lock her up and forget about her, like Bertha in the attic (I think it's only the attic that serves as dungeon at Thornfield), he would not ask for her in the evening.

I just realised this morning that the episode with Céline is about ten years ago when he tells Jane about it. The way he tells her about it is rather passionate still.

Oh, yes, I don't think he can be a donor to such charity schools. He rrproached Jane at some point for branding him a philapthropist. Indeed, his physiognomy is not at all molded in that direction...
Maybe Lowood School was quite famous in these parts, though. There can't have been too many schools about.

[kev67]

Chapter xv had even more on the subject on Adéle's origins. Despite Rochester's ambiguous attitude to the girl, it shows him in a good light. I was shocked her mother just abandoned her. Celine claimed the child was Rochester's, but neither Jane nor Rochester can see any similarity. With Rochester being such a strange looking fellow, you would think it would not be difficult to tell if Adéle was his daughter. Adéle seems like a nice enough child, and constantly cheerful despite the gloomy setting and the lack of playmates. £100 a year must be a bargain compared to however much he was spending on her mother, for real love and the feeling you're doing something right.

I was slightly surprised to read Rochester had challenged a love rival to a duel. I thought that sort of thing had much reduced in frequency by that time.

I read somewhere on the internet and also in the book, Understanding Jane Eyre, about a girls' school in Brighton which cost £500 a year. I think it was only £125 basic, but all the extras raised the cost enormously. How many people could have afforded that? The school sounded like a hot house, but the book included an assessment by one of its former pupils, who thought it was a shocking waste of money. She complained that they spent the most time learning to play music (which she was poor at), then drawing, foreign languages, a bit of numeracy, and then finally English. She seemed to think it should have been the other way around.

[kiki1982]

I don't know when duelling was outlawed really, but it rather went out of practice. I suppose in France, it was more in vogue than in in England, though. There is a good article on duelling on Wikipedia. With the very last one in the Anglo-Saxon world as well.

Dumas still features it in The Count and that was written in 1844. Dutch writer Marcellus Emants also mentions a duel (at least a challenge to one) in his series of three novellas Monaco which plays in around the 1860s (I believe). So it must still have been in vogue among certain people and in certain places.
Interestingly, the Brontës had a copy of The Count and Rochester's duel I think takes places in Paris in the Bois de Boulogne, the place for fighting duels in Paris and also where the one in The Count was going to be fought.

Although, you do have to see the context:

Céline is Rochester's mistress. This will have been quite obvious: she would have appeared with him in the theatre, at parties, in society, in public in short. Any other man should have had the decency to stay away from her. Who knows what she did when Rochester wasn't there. Did she 'cheat' on him in public places? That would have been extremely mortifying and would have violated his honour as a gentleman. From our point of view, Céline alone is to blame, but back then, women were passive creatures so his love rival is to blame for seducing her.

Schooling:

The problem with schools back then was that, like any private instituation back then, there was no regulation. So like with madhouses (also a hot topic for this novel), anyone could offer private schooling for any price, if they only got people so mad as to pay for it. Charity schools were supervised by the Parish Union (which also managed the workhouses), and had certain standards to abide by, where totally private instituations sometimes offered worse care or schoolding than charity insituations, because they were not subject to supervision.

On top of this, girls' education was actually limited to so-called 'accomplishments', i.e. reading (silly novels), writing (silly letters without contents, according to men at least), playing the piano or any other instrument that could accompany the next accomplishment which was singing (to amuse the gentlemen and find a husband among them), drawing, foreign languages (enough to understand what you were singing; so Italian, French and German), needlework and knitting, sewing maybe (for ladies...?).

Shockingly, arythmetic was not part of this. At least not on the same level as gentlemen had to learn this. Why do you think Rochester tells Jane in their first conversation that 'arythmetic is useful'. For women it was evidently not straighforward to do 10 + 9 = 19. Or whatever the sum was.
Indeed, Darcy in P&P is so amazed he looks up from his book when Elizabeth Bennet declares that half a dozen is... 6. In other words, he is surprised that she can do 12 : 2 = 6. And that during a discussion about 'accomplished ladies'...

I suppose, if as a parent, you wanted to make sure that your child was educated properly (with all the skills needed, including arythmetic in this case), you were better off with a governess as you could pop into the school room at any time and see how things were going. If you didn't approve because the governess herself was doing badly or she didn't know enough of one or the other subject, you could either dismiss her or get someone else who had those skills the governess didn't have (you can't be master at everything, after all).
£500 pounds per annum is not too much for a truly rich person. I don't know what that included, but certainly, even Sophie and ane combined don't cost so much. On the other hand, of course, the potential of several teachers with each their own specialisation is better than only one who can't be a specialist at everything. But then, how do you check that?

[kev67]

I can see Adèle was quite a clever plot device. In Vol 2 Chap 3, she is allowed down to see the fine guests that Mr Rochester had brought back. Blanche Ingram points her out and asks Rochester where he picked her up. Rochester replies he didn't pick her up; she was left on his hands. Blanche says why not send her to school. Rochester says he could not afford it, which does not sound very likely. Blanche replies that paying and keeping a governess must be more expensive, and proceeds to detail how badly they behaved towards hers.

It seems strange that Mr Rochester would allow Adèle down to the party because the obvious question is what is this girl to him. The answer that the girl was left on his hands would make any curious person wonder why and how. If Blanche were naïve, she might ask a potentially embarrassing question of her host. If she were not naïve, wouldn't it pull her up to learn that the man she has designs on not only fathers illegitimate children, but does not attempt to hide the evidence from his guests. It does not seem to give her much pause for thought, but you can guess that if Blanche does get her way in becoming Mrs Rochester, Adèle won't be part of her plans.

[kev67]

Schooling:

On top of this, girls' education was actually limited to so-called 'accomplishments', i.e. reading (silly novels), writing (silly letters without contents, according to men at least), playing the piano or any other instrument that could accompany the next accomplishment which was singing (to amuse the gentlemen and find a husband among them), drawing, foreign languages (enough to understand what you were singing; so Italian, French and German), needlework and knitting, sewing maybe (for ladies...?).

Shockingly, arythmetic was not part of this. At least not on the same level as gentlemen had to learn this. Why do you think Rochester tells Jane in their first conversation that 'arythmetic is useful'. For women it was evidently not straighforward to do 10 + 9 = 19. Or whatever the sum was.
Indeed, Darcy in P&P is so amazed he looks up from his book when Elizabeth Bennet declares that half a dozen is... 6. In other words, he is surprised that she can do 12 : 2 = 6. And that during a discussion about 'accomplished ladies'...



I remember Rochester telling Jane arithmetic was useful when he working out her age. I thought it was a weak joke. There seemed to be all sorts of schools back then. Those run by the church for the poor seemed to concentrate on the 3 Rs: reading, writing and arithmetic, but didn't boys and girls tend to go to different schools in those days? I gather posh boys' schools tended to concentrate on Latin and Greek; hence all the Greek myth references in Hardy. The girls' curriculum looks just as useful as that of the boys. At least those foreign languages were still in use.

[mona amon]

Shockingly, arythmetic was not part of this. At least not on the same level as gentlemen had to learn this. Why do you think Rochester tells Jane in their first conversation that 'arythmetic is useful'. For women it was evidently not straighforward to do 10 + 9 = 19. Or whatever the sum was.
Indeed, Darcy in P&P is so amazed he looks up from his book when Elizabeth Bennet declares that half a dozen is... 6. In other words, he is surprised that she can do 12 : 2 = 6. And that during a discussion about 'accomplished ladies'...

That would have been really silly of Mr Darcy, but fortunately he isn't guilty of any such thing. All the amazement is Elizabeth's, at Darcy actually knowing as much as six women with the long list of accomplishments he requires in a woman.

As Kev says, there were all sorts of schools back then, and while girls probably recieved a much lower level of education than boys on the whole, arithmetic was surely part of anyone's basic education. Remember how Jane was working on a sum in long division during Brocklehurst's unexpected visit to the school, and she drops her slate, drawing attention to herself.

And when St. John Rivers offers her a post as village school mistress, he tells her the subjects she will have to teach, which include reading, writing and ciphering.

[kiki1982]

Oh, my, it is amazing how easily the 1995 P&P adaptation blends with its original...

However, Davies was probably not far off.

As you say, there were various types of schools that taught more on an egalitarian level (Quaker schools from their egalitarian views, others from the view that education was private and that women and men had to develop their talents), but until 1870, the three Rs were not a requirement.

Only in 1862 requirements came into existence for grants to individual pupils which emphasised the three Rs, but that sparked so much protests because in the end, children leanred nothing but those three Rs and no practical skills (like needlework), so that in the end, regulations were relaxed and plain needlework, geograhy and history were included.

However, what you are thinking about is Jane. At a charity school (not a high fee-paying boarding school), Jane is to be educated for service or trade. Not for a life of leisure. If she is to be a governess, which was about the only path left for an educated woman in that day and age, she had to have mastered the three Rs. Whether ladies like Ingram would have paid attention during class is another matter. I think that largely depended on the children themselves, on their parents and on the teacher. If the children didn't want to pay attention (because naturally arithmetic is boring), and the parents spoilt their children rotten, the governess must yield (she doesn't want to lose her job).

If you are talking abuut women in general, then I can imagine that a baker's wife could count better than a Lady Bertram, as Lady Bertram does nothing all day where the baker's wife would have been in the shop serving customers. Possibly Lady Bertram's sister would have done well but she is avaricious and stingy, so that doesn't really count.

Finding a husband and running a household was a woman's most important mission. Hence, impressing potential hubbies was the most important for a young woman to learn. Being clever was detrimental (Paxman). Valuable brain space for bearing children and doing household tasks was going to be clogged up if you taught a woman useless things like Latin, Greek and arithmetic. A Lady Bertram or Mrs Bennet doesn't need arithmetic. That's what a Mr Bennet needs. Mrs Bennet's housekeeper or Mr Bennet will do the books.

Why would Rochester refer to arithmetic? The reason is one of two possible ones: either he has such disdain for women in general that he thinks none of them can count (highly unlikely, because he is still a discerning man, if a bit deluded) or he genuinely believes that most women are lacking in anything substancial. He could be right there. He also dislikes Ingram for this.

Indeed, Grylls writes that the main purpose for schools and the main reason for sending a daughter to school, was to provide her with 'a smattering of accomplishments with the sole object of catching a husband as soon as possible after leaving.' These accomplishments do not include arithmetic, as the discussion in P&P shows.

[mona amon]

Why would Rochester refer to arithmetic? The reason is one of two possible ones: either he has such disdain for women in general that he thinks none of them can count (highly unlikely, because he is still a discerning man, if a bit deluded) or he genuinely believes that most women are lacking in anything substancial. He could be right there. He also dislikes Ingram for this.

There's only one reason for Mr Rochester mentioning arithmetic. He tells Jane (jokingly, of course) that without its aid he would never have been able to guess her age. This is the passage -


"What age were you when you went to Lowood?"

"About ten."

"And you stayed there eight years: you are now, then, eighteen?"

I assented.

"Arithmetic, you see, is useful; without its aid, I should hardly
have been able to guess your age. It is a point difficult to fix
where the features and countenance are so much at variance as in
your case. And now what did you learn at Lowood? Can you play?"

- Jane Eyre, Chapter 13

[kev67]

I wonder if some of the subjects that were taught to girls, at least upper class girls, were ways of entertaining themselves. They had no television. Servants did most of the drudge work. I don't suppose they went down the pub. When Rochester invited a lot of friends back they had to entertain themselves somehow. Jane Eyre seems to occupy herself in her free time by drawing and painting. Liza Reed seems to spend much of her time doing embroidery or going to church.

[kiki1982]

Bl**dy hell, I've had so much work, I haven't been able to keep up (I hope to answer that private message from ages ago soon, this week :blush:).


It seems strange that Mr Rochester would allow Adèle down to the party because the obvious question is what is this girl to him. The answer that the girl was left on his hands would make any curious person wonder why and how. If Blanche were naïve, she might ask a potentially embarrassing question of her host. If she were not naïve, wouldn't it pull her up to learn that the man she has designs on not only fathers illegitimate children, but does not attempt to hide the evidence from his guests. It does not seem to give her much pause for thought, but you can guess that if Blanche does get her way in becoming Mrs Rochester, Adèle won't be part of her plans.

I think, if Ingram was still naïve, her mother would certainly have discerned that Adèle was Rochester's illegitimate daughter. That fact would not have reflected too badly on him, as mistresses were condoned, because men had their urges, after all (women didn't, strangely). With close to 3,000 brothels in London in 1859 (deemed only the top of the iceberg, seeing as the estimated number of prostitutes on the streets was 80,000), misstresses and the inevitable illegitimate children were not really a shock. What was a bachelor to do, anyway?

However, Adèle could have maybe deterred potential spousesfor Rochester for the simple fact that she had to be provided for. Every unmarried member of the family (sister, mother, children) was a financial burden to be cared for until disposed of. With already one illegitimate daughter, the usual question would be, 'How many more?' If there were to be six, for example, Ingram would essentially be marrying a widower with 6 children and would reasonably have to expect less financial affluence than she had expected...That was a factor to be reckoned with.

That is the only thing though.


I remember Rochester telling Jane arithmetic was useful when he working out her age. I thought it was a weak joke. There seemed to be all sorts of schools back then. Those run by the church for the poor seemed to concentrate on the 3 Rs: reading, writing and arithmetic, but didn't boys and girls tend to go to different schools in those days? I gather posh boys' schools tended to concentrate on Latin and Greek; hence all the Greek myth references in Hardy. The girls' curriculum looks just as useful as that of the boys. At least those foreign languages were still in use.

Charity schools tried to improve the lives of the poor by handing them knowledge. Unless the school offered secondary education, children were taught together, if I am right. At least they are in the last part of Jane Eyre. The focus on the three Rs, though, was later ciriticised because there was little 'useful' stuff children learned before 13, like needlework.

Possibly boys and girls were only taught separately in secondary education because of the things they learned but maybe more so because of the impropriety. Apparently the first College for girls (Queen's?) in London only had male teachers, because the stuff these girls were to learn had been too difficult for women up till then, but for the sake of propriety, chaperones lined the classrooms under the guise of 'Lady Visitors'.
In private households, children of both sexes were taught by a governess until the boy was about 8 (or something) at which point he got a tutor who taught him everything until he was sent to a public school or to university (not sure about that, actually).

To say that ladies could absolutely not count is maybe a little too far, but let's say their education was not focused on that, neither really on the foreign languages in fact. You could better not appear too clever as a woman (sad, isn't it?). Though the Brontës had a copy of how to learn Italian.


I wonder if some of the subjects that were taught to girls, at least upper class girls, were ways of entertaining themselves. They had no television. Servants did most of the drudge work. I don't suppose they went down the pub. When Rochester invited a lot of friends back they had to entertain themselves somehow. Jane Eyre seems to occupy herself in her free time by drawing and painting. Liza Reed seems to spend much of her time doing embroidery or going to church.

Well, women mainly had to stay at home and make a nice home for their hubbies. Hence, the 'approved' pasttimes were limited, sedentary and mainly confined to home. Men went out, because frankly, the only thing they could do at home was reading (music, drawing and needlework :rolleyes: being feminine activities), writing letters (business mostly) and the few things to do in the country like riding, shooting birds and things. You are right that entertainment was mainly confined to home and did not consist of anything but self-produced things as there were no records.

Theatres could mean some occasional outing (if there was one in your neighbourhood), but that was also frowned upon as the theatre was deemed dodgy morally... So always accompanied by the hubby, of course. Alone, women only went calling on their friends or neighbours, and of course amused themselves at home (again).


There's only one reason for Mr Rochester mentioning arithmetic. He tells Jane (jokingly, of course) that without its aid he would never have been able to guess her age. This is the passage -

I know that passage, but to me there is a kind of animosity with him and certainly in the first two converstions, so that that speech cannot be taken just as a mere joke. Why do you say something like that to someone at such a moment? To insinuate something. Just the same as he pretends not to notice her when she walks in and when he blames her for his foot. He is intimidating and seems to enjoy humiliating her, or at least letting her know that she is i his power (tosome extent). Why would he come out with arithmetic being useful if it was not to insinuate that she couldn't or she would not teach Adèle?