Part 1 was posted yesterday.
Here the reader further witnesses how young Tom treats his little sisters which is consistently cruel-hearted. Tom continues to describe how he will harm the helpless birds while Agnes desperately works to persuade him otherwise:
“But you shall see me fettle ’em off. My word, but I will wallop ’em? See if I don’t now. By gum! but there’s rare sport for me in that nest.”
“But, Tom,” said I, “I shall not allow you to torture those birds. They must either be killed at once or carried back to the place you took them from, that the old birds may continue to feed them.”
“But you don’t know where that is, Madam: it’s only me and uncle Robson that knows that.”
“But if you don’t tell me, I shall kill them myself—much as I hate it.”
“You daren’t. You daren’t touch them for your life! because you know papa and mamma, and uncle Robson, would be angry. Ha, ha! I’ve caught you there, Miss!”
“I shall do what I think right in a case of this sort without consulting any one. If your papa and mamma don’t happen to approve of it, I shall be sorry to offend them; but your uncle Robson’s opinions, of course, are nothing to me.”
This young charge of Agnes’s is threatening and manipulating her as he and the other children do often. Tom doesn’t realize he has hit a nerve with Agnes, where the brutal treatment of the most vulnerable is unbearable. This situation is indicative of the overall treatment she receives as a governess, as one less-worthy-than and stripped of power, yet blamed for the misbehavior of her charges.
“So saying—urged by a sense of duty—at the risk of both making myself sick and incurring the wrath of my employers—I got a large flat stone, that had been reared up for a mouse-trap by the gardener; then, having once more vainly endeavoured to persuade the little tyrant to let the birds be carried back, I asked what he intended to do with them. With fiendish glee he commenced a list of torments; and while he was busied in the relation, I dropped the stone upon his intended victims and crushed them flat beneath it. Loud were the outcries, terrible the execrations, consequent upon this daring outrage; uncle Robson had been coming up the walk with his gun, and was just then pausing to kick his dog.
“Tom flew towards him, vowing he would make him kick me instead of Juno. Mr. Robson leant upon his gun, and laughed excessively at the violence of his nephew’s passion, and the bitter maledictions and opprobrious epithets he heaped upon me. “Well, you are a good ’un!” exclaimed he, at length, taking up his weapon and proceeding towards the house. “Damme, but the lad has some spunk in him, too. Curse me, if ever I saw a nobler little scoundrel than that. He’s beyond petticoat government already: by God! he defies mother, granny, governess, and all! Ha, ha, ha! Never mind, Tom, I’ll get you another brood to-morrow.”
Uncle Robson’s appalling show of support and praise for Tom’s egregious behavior toward his governess underscores a deeply engrained and condoned misogyny. But here our usual grin-and-bear-it Agnes will not back down or be silenced.
“If you do, Mr. Robson, I shall kill them too,” said I.
“Humph!” replied he, and having honoured me with a broad stare—which, contrary to his expectations, I sustained without flinching—he turned away with an air of supreme contempt, and stalked into the house. Tom next went to tell his mamma.”
Agnes has risked her position in defense of her values, but Uncle Robson, who it is noted never pays his nieces any heed, has instilled and upholds his nephew’s cruel ways, no doubt leading him to become a person who will kick his dogs and treat all creatures deemed lesser, including girls and women, with disdain. Little Tom is “beyond petticoat government already,” encouraged and rewarded for not listening to any of the women in his life. Following the example of his father, uncle, and many of the other men in his life, Tom has already learned to disregard what women have to say.
And Tom’s mother, Mrs. Bloomfield, buys into the dysfunction wholeheartedly. The passage continues with an interaction between Agnes and lady of the house, with her defending the violent behavior of her son and blaming Agnes for interfering with his fun and games.
“It was not her [Mrs. Bloomfield’s] way to say much on any subject; but, when she next saw me, her aspect and demeanour were doubly dark and chilled. After some casual remark about the weather, she observed—“I am sorry, Miss Grey, you should think it necessary to interfere with Master Bloomfield’s amusements; he was very much distressed about your destroying the birds.”
“When Master Bloomfield’s amusements consist in injuring sentient creatures,” I answered, “I think it my duty to interfere.”
“You seemed to have forgotten,” said she, calmly, “that the creatures were all created for our convenience.”
I thought that doctrine admitted some doubt, but merely replied—“If they were, we have no right to torment them for our amusement.”
“I think,” said she, “a child’s amusement is scarcely to be weighed against the welfare of a soulless brute.”
“But, for the child’s own sake, it ought not to be encouraged to have such amusements,” answered I, as meekly as I could, to make up for such unusual pertinacity. “‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.’”
“Oh! of course; but that refers to our conduct towards each other.”
“‘The merciful man shows mercy to his beast,’” I ventured to add.
“I think you have not shown much mercy,” replied she, with a short, bitter laugh; “killing the poor birds by wholesale in that shocking manner, and putting the dear boy to such misery for a mere whim.”
“I judged it prudent to say no more. This was the nearest approach to a quarrel I ever had with Mrs. Bloomfield; as well as the greatest number of words I ever exchanged with her at one time, since the day of my first arrival.”
Agnes knows her place and if she wants to maintain her position to both assist her family and to prove she can handle the role, she must monitor herself and bite her tongue around her employers and their children. In both Agnes’s positions, the parents are portrayed as overly indulgent and uninvolved, allowing the children to misbehave and manipulate at every turn. The parents consistently take their children’s side and refuse to see any fault in them, lest it cast blame on their parenting. This creates an especially impossible arrangement for the governess to have any influence on the children, let alone get them to care about and complete their lessons.
Anne’s resting place at St. Mary’s Church in the seaside town of Scarborough, North Yorkshire.
At a certain point in the story it becomes quite clear how all will unfold, yet one cannot stop reading!
In the end, Agnes is rewarded with the love of one she has admired for some time. The icing on this happy-ending cake is that she is also reunited with the neglected dog, Snap, that one of the young women in her charge had given away, breaking Agnes’s heart. This delightful reunion takes place on the beach, a setting Anne Brontë herself cherished.
If one cannot bear the truth, don’t read Anne Brontë’s novels. Yet, it’s worth keeping in mind that if the ugly truth is kept undercover, it’s less likely to be addressed.
Anne Brontë is a Nasty Woman Writer.
© Maria Dintino 2024
Works Cited & Resources
Brontë, Anne. Agnes Grey. The Project Gutenberg eBook of Agnes Grey, 4 December 2020. https://www.gutenberg.org/files/767/767-h/767-h.htm
Ellis, Samantha. “Anne Brontë: the sister who got there first.” The Guardian. 6 January 2017. https://www.theguardian.com/books/2017/jan/06/anne-bronte-agnes-grey-jane-eyre-charlotte
Holland, Nick. “Agnes Grey: Nothing short of genius.” Anne Brontë Blog, 9 April 2017. https://www.annebronte.org/2017/04/09/agnes-grey-nothing-short-of-genius/
Feminism and Religion 