How I Met Jane Eyre
Chapter 3 – The Next Four Years with Bertha
"And so, my dears, my life with Bertha had begun. I tried my best to put that horrid memory behind me," I said, "but as I lay in her arms most nights (for more often than not I spent them without her, but more on that in a little while), I still remembered the man that she was with, what he was doing with her body, and above all else, the thing that bothered me most was the way she looked at me when she saw me looking at her, with those hating, maddening, evil eyes. I tried to live as normally as I could with her as I have already said, tried to be her husband, but I could not please her, for she said as much with her eyes whenever she looked at me and my body. And it was only then that I knew that I had lost her, for she wanted to be with the forms of other men, who were tall, strong, muscular and handsome, unlike me. After that, I was left alone at nights, sighing at the cruel trickery my father and brother played on me. I hated them for it, cursed them into leading me into that, for they were the ones to blame, not Bertha. But whilst I lay in bed with all these angry thoughts swirling around in my head, someone would call on me in my room almost every night of the week at some late hour to ask me to bring my wife back here. I had no idea of what she was doing, but when I found out, I was mortified; for she was spending her time with the lowest company: drinking, taking drugs and other such despicable things, which shocked me more than I let on, for I never thought she would stoop that low.
"It wasn't just these things that told me that she was lost to me, oh no, for whenever I spent time with her, trying to draw her into a conversation, I could not do so; for I found her nature different to mine – her tastes not at all to my liking, her mind common, low, narrow and singularly incapable of being led to anything higher, expanded to anything larger. I could not pass a single evening, let alone an hour in her presence, for no comfort found me. Tried as I did to make friendly conversation with her, no matter what the topic was, she would immediately turn on me, which proceeded in a rather violent outbreak, involving more physical force than words, although she did manage to slip some of those in, too, in the shape of threats. There was never a quiet or peaceful household when she lived there. No servant could continue to bear the continual outbreaks of her violent, unreasonable temper, or the vexations of her absurd, contradictory, exacting demands. Even I kept myself from her when I could, and suffered in silence. I am a proud man, you know, and I was not going to get pity from those in society, who I knew already looked at me with disdain for marrying such a woman.
"My dears," I then spoke softly to my children, "I will not trouble you with such abominable details, for some strong words will be sufficient to what I have to divulge with you. For four long, tiresome years, I lived with her, and in that time much had changed. I had not only tired with Bertha, who during that time had worsened, for her temper ripened and her vices sprang up, violent and unchaste. Only cruelty could check her – but don't fret, my dears," I spoke quickly, seeing how frightened and wearily they looked at me after I said "cruelty", "for I never used cruelty with her, not once.
"Anyway, as I was saying, much had changed for me, for my brother died and my father followed him not long afterwards, which left me with everything my family owned. And speaking of my father, he and my brother never told anyone of my marriage to Bertha, for as much as he wanted the money, he was just as worried as I was to keep her a secret, which I told him about in a letter, after I had been married to her a couple of weeks. I'll get back to this point later, but back to where I was. I was rich enough, and yet I was technically poor, for I was stuck in a (to my eyes, at least) sham marriage; and yet the law and society saw me and Bertha as married."
"Was there anything you could do to rid yourself of it, Papa?" Janet asked.
"I'm afraid not, my daughter, for the doctors discovered that she was mad, a madness which eventually developed into insanity. After that, I approached the gulf of despair. To the world, it seemed that I was covered with a grimy dishonour, but I kept my head high and made a resolution to keep myself clean. I wrenched myself from the connexion she had with her mental defects, and tried to keep myself to myself, but society still saw us as married; no matter where I went, a remembrance of her putrid breath was mixed with the cleanliness of my own. I had once been her husband, but at the end of four years, I realised that I never was, nor ever could be that to her. While she lived, I could not be free to find a better wife (which I eventually did find, and have kept, as you two well know), as much as I wanted to do so. Bertha was also five years my senior (another thing which both my family and hers had kept from me until after we were married I found out by accidentally overhearing a conversation between her brother and father), and thus, I knew that she was going to live for as long as I was. And so, by the time I was at the age of six-and-twenty, I was completely helpless.
"She had been shut up since the medical men pronounced her as mad, which only made her frequent outbreaks even worse, which even I could understand (after all, who would want to be shut up all the time, mad or not?); but there was nothing else we could do, for who knows what damage she would have done if she was set free. Anyway, it was during one of her yells that I woke one fiery West Indian night. Not only was she keeping me awake, but also the storm outside was so loud that further sleep was not possible. I went to the window and opened it. I still remember how the air was like sulphur-streams; how mosquitoes buzzed in and hummed sullenly around the room; how the sea rumbled like a dull earth-quake; and how dark, black and threatening the clouds setting over it looked like, as the moon was setting in the sky, with a fiery red light shining from it like a cannon ball. There was no comfort to be found, even though I was physically influenced by the storm – which somehow mirrored my own inner feelings – by the harsh display of the weather that Mother Nature was performing in front of me; as my ears were filled by a different, more horrid sound, in the voice of the mad woman, whose curses the maniac still shrieked out, in which she mentioned my name with such a tone of demon-hate, with such language and vocabulary I had never heard before then in my life, and have never heard since, thankfully. We were no further apart than two rooms, and as loud as the wind roared, and as hard as the sea crashed against the hard rocks, I still heard her.
"At long last, I finally admitted to myself that I was living in hell. I had suffered enough, as far as I could see, and wanted to end my life; to be sent up to God and end my sufferings for ever. As I knelt on the ground, I sent a prayer up to God and unlocked a trunk which contained a brace of loaded pistols, for I meant to shoot myself, end my life, and enter the realm of eternal peace."
"Papa!" Janet cried in shock.
"Suicide!" Eddie said, as shocked as his sister was, and paling in the process.
"Yes, my children, I am not proud of what I almost did, for just as I was about to pull the trigger, a fresh wind from Europe blew over the ocean and rushed through the open casement, ceasing the storm and making the air grow pure. It was then, as I stood up, that an idea started to form in my mind as I walked under the dripping orange-trees of my wet garden, and amongst the fine smells of the fruits in which the garden beheld, Wisdom found me and made me hear reason in that lonely hour.
"The fresh wind from Europe seemed to seep into my soul at that moment. My heart swelled with joy, my blood pumped viciously through my veins, my being longed for renewal and my soul thirsted for something purer. From the bottom of the garden I saw the sea, far bluer than the sky itself, showing me the world beyond and broadening my horizons as Hope spoke to me, saying that I should go and live again in Europe where no one knew that I was married to her. I could leave her at Thornfield, where I could hire people to care for her in my absence, for I had cared for her the best that I could have as her husband. Her connexion and identity could be hidden safely with me and a couple of others who truly knew the nature of why she was there (the servants were told that there was a patient who was being cared for in the attic, and that no one should go up there; for I told them that I had found her on my travels, that she was mad and that I took pity on her.), so I could place her in comfort and protection, whilst providing her with shelter and secrecy from the harm the outside world would give her, whilst I was free to do as I pleased.
"I acted on this as soon as I could. I conveyed her to England, terrified of the voyage I underwent with my charge for fear of what she could have done; for I did not breathe properly until we returned to Thornfield (my father left no will, so everything was left in my possession, the house in particular), let alone England. Once we got back to my old home, I was glad to keep her upstairs in the third-story room, where for ten years she transformed it from a room to a goblin's den. I had some trouble finding an attendant for her, for not only did I refuse to send her to a mad house where the inmates are caged and baited like beasts – which I saved her from – but she needed a carer desperately; for she would have gone anywhere and done a matter of horrible, terrible things to my staff if she was left alone. Besides, her ravings would have revealed my secret; some of them lasted days – sometimes even weeks – in which she furtively flung abuse at me. I finally found an attendant in the form of a Mrs Grace Poole from the Grimsby Retreat (who now lives with her son in peace, which she has needed after so many years of loyal service, despite the fact that she had a particular liking to gin) ; and I also found a surgeon, Carter, another of my closest friends, who has helped my family out a lot over the years.
"Do you disapprove of my decision-making, my children?" I said, looking at the displeased expression on their faces. "Come, tell me what you think. After all, I may bark, but I certainly do not bite," I joked.
Janet, as always, was the first one to speak: "Well, I do not approve of you thinking that you were a free man, or of you going to do whatever you pleased; but I do understand why you did what you did, Father."
"I feel the same way, Father," said Eddie, who had a little bit of colour back in his cheeks now. "It might not have been the right way to think as you did, but at least you gave Bertha some safety."
"Thank you, my dears," I said, as the clock then struck eleven. "And I think it's time that we all went to bed; for I'm sure the pair of you are tired and wish to get into your own beds after being so far from home for so long."
"But, Papa –" Janet was about to argue, but a small yawn just escaped her mouth. I smiled a satisfied smile, as me and my children embraced each other. Janet then got a candle and we made our way out of the room.
"Don't worry, I'll tell you the rest of the story after breakfast tomorrow," I said, as we made our way for the stairs.
"Where's Mama, Papa?" Eddie asked, as he placed his foot on the first step. "I haven't seen her at all today."
"Oh, she said that she's just feeling a little under the weather today. Nothing to worry about, I assure you, but she said that she needed her rest. You'll see her at breakfast, I'm sure," I said, as we parted ways at the top of the stairs for the night.