Read Born in Exile Online

Authors: George Gissing

Tags: #Fiction, #General

Born in Exile (6 page)

BOOK: Born in Exile
4.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

'You're an aristocrat, Godwin,' remarked Oliver, simply; for the
elder brother had of late been telling him fearful stories from the
French Revolution, with something of an anti-popular bias.

'I hope I am. I mean to be, that's certain. There's nothing I
hate like vulgarity. That's why I can't stand Roper. When he beat
me in mathematics last midsummer, I felt so ashamed I could hardly
bear myself. I'm working like a nigger at algebra and Euclid this
half, just because I think it would almost kill me to be beaten
again by a low cad.'

This was perhaps the first time that Godwin found expression for
the prejudice which affected all his thoughts and feelings. It
relieved him to have spoken thus; henceforth he had become clear as
to his point of view. By dubbing him aristocrat, Oliver had
flattered him in the subtlest way. If indeed the title were justly
his, as he instantly felt it was, the inference was plain that he
must be an aristocrat of nature's own making—one of the few highly
favoured beings who, in despite of circumstance, are pinnacled
above mankind. In his ignorance of life, the boy visioned a
triumphant career; an aristocrat
de jure
might possibly
become one even in the common sense did he but pursue that end with
sufficient zeal. And in his power of persistent endeavour he had no
lack of faith.

The next day he walked with exalted head. Encountering the
objectionable Roper, he smiled upon him contemptuously
tolerant.

There being no hope of effective assistance from relatives, Mrs.
Peak turned for counsel to a man of business, with whom her husband
had made acquaintance in his farming days, and who held a position
of influence at Twybridge. This was Mr. Moxey, manufacturing
chemist, famous in the Midlands for his 'sheep and cattle
dressings', and sundry other products of agricultural enterprise.
His ill-scented, but lucrative, works were situated a mile out of
the town; and within sight of the reeking chimneys stood a large,
plain house, uncomfortably like an 'institution' of some kind, in
which he dwelt with his five daughters. Thither, one evening, Mrs.
Peak betook herself, having learnt that Mr. Moxey dined at five
o'clock, and that he was generally to be found digging in his
garden until sunset. Her reception was civil. The
manufacturer—sparing of words, but with no unkindly face—requested
that Godwin should be sent to see him, and promised to do his best
to be of use. A talk with the boy strengthened his interest. He was
surprised at Godwin's knowledge of chemistry, pleased with his
general intelligence, and in the end offered to make a place for
him at the works, where, though for a year or two his earnings must
be small, he would gain experience likely to be of substantial use
to him. Godwin did not find the proposal distasteful; it brought a
change into his life, and the excitement of novelty; it flattered
him with the show of release from pupilage. To Mr. Moxey's he
went.

The hours were not long, and it was understood that his
theoretical studies should continue in the evening. Godwin's home
was a very small house in a monotonous little street; a garret
served as bedroom for the two boys, also as the elder one's
laboratory. Servant Mrs. Peak had none. She managed everything
herself, as in the old Greenwich days, leaving Charlotte free to
work at her embroidery. Godwin took turns with Oliver at blacking
the shoes.

As a matter of course the boys accompanied their mother each
Sunday morning to the parish church, and this ceremony was becoming
an insufferable tax on Godwin's patience. It was not only that he
hated the name of religion, and scorned with much fierceness all
who came in sympathetic contact therewith; the loss of time seemed
to him an oppressive injury, especially now that he began to suffer
from restricted leisure. He would not refuse to obey his mother's
wish, but the sullenness of his Sabbatic demeanour made the whole
family uncomfortable. As often as possible he feigned illness. He
tried the effect of dolorous sighs and groans; but Mrs. Peak could
not dream of conceding a point which would have seemed to her the
condonation of deadly sin. 'When I am a man!' muttered Godwin. 'Ah!
when I am a man!'

A year had gone by, and the routine to which he was bound began
to have a servile flavour. His mind chafed at subjugation to
commercial interests. Sick of 'sheep and cattle dressings', he grew
tired of chemistry altogether, and presently of physical science in
general. His evenings were given to poetry and history; he took up
the classical schoolbooks again, and found a charm in Latin syntax
hitherto unperceived. It was plain to him now how he had been
wronged by the necessity of leaving school when his education had
but just begun.

Discontent becoming ripe for utterance, he unbosomed himself to
Mr Gunnery. It happened that the old man had just returned from a
visit to Kingsmill, where he had spent a week in the museum, then
newly enriched with geologic specimens. After listening in silence
to the boy's complaints, and pondering for a long time, he began to
talk of Whitelaw College.

'Does it cost much to study there?' Godwin asked, gloomily.

'No great sum, I think. There are scholarships to be had.'

Mr. Gunnery threw out the suggestion carelessly. Knowing the
hazards of life, he could not quite justify himself in encouraging
Godwin's restiveness.

'Scholarships? For free study?'

'Yes; but that wouldn't mean free living, you know. Students
don't live at the College.'

'How do you go in for a scholarship?'

The old man replied, meditatively, 'If you were to pass the
Cambridge Local Examination, and to get the first place in the
Kingsmill district, you would have three years of free study at
Whitelaw.'

'Three years?' shouted Godwin, springing up from his chair.

'But how could you live, my boy?'

Godwin sat down again, and let his head fall forward.

How to keep oneself alive during a few years of intellectual
growth?—a question often asked by men of mature age, but seldom by
a lad of sixteen. No matter. He resolved that he would study for
this Cambridge Local Examination, and have a try for the
scholarship. His attainments were already up to the standard
required for average success in such competitions. On obtaining a
set of 'papers', he found that they looked easy enough. Could he
not come out first in the Kingsmill district?

He worked vigorously at special subjects; aid was needless, but
he wished for more leisure. Not a word to any member of his
household. When his mother discovered that he was reading in the
bedroom till long past midnight, she made serious objection on the
score of health and on that of gas bills. Godwin quietly asserted
that work he must, and that if necessary he would buy candles out
of his pocket-money. He had unexpectedly become more grave, more
restrained; he even ceased to grumble about going to church, having
found that service time could be utilised for committing to memory
lists of dates and the like, jotted down on a slip of paper. When
the time for the examination drew near, he at length told his
mother to what end he had been labouring, and asked her to grant
him the assistance necessary for his journey and the sojourn at
Kingsmill; the small sum he had been able to save, after purchase
of books, would not suffice. Mrs. Peak knew not whether to approve
her son's ambition or to try to repress it. She would welcome an
improval in his prospects, but, granting success, how was he to
live whilst profiting by a scholarship? And again, what did he
propose to make of himself when he had spent three years in
study?

'In any case,' was Godwin's reply, 'I should be sure of a good
place as a teacher. But I think I might try for something in the
Civil Service; there are all sorts of positions to be got.'

It was idle to discuss the future whilst the first step was
still speculative. Mrs. Peak consented to favour the attempt, and
what was more, to keep it a secret until the issue should be known.
It was needful to obtain leave of absence from Mr. Moxey, and
Godwin, when making the request, stated for what purpose he was
going to Kingsmill, though without explaining the hope which had
encouraged his studies. The project seemed laudable, and his
employer made no difficulties.

Godwin just missed the scholarship; of candidates in the
prescribed district, he came out second.

Grievous was the disappointment. To come so near success
exasperated his impatient temper, and for a few days his bondage at
the chemical works seemed intolerable; he was ready for almost any
venture that promised release and new scope for his fretting
energies. But at the moment when nervous irritation was most acute,
a remarkable act of kindness suddenly restored to him all the hopes
he had abandoned. One Saturday afternoon he was summoned from his
surly retreat in the garret, to speak with a visitor. On entering
the sitting-room, he found his mother in company with Miss Cadman
and the Misses Lumb, and from the last-mentioned ladies, who spoke
with amiable alternation, he learnt that they were commissioned by
Sir Job Whitelaw to offer for his acceptance a three-years'
studentship at Whitelaw College. Affected by her son's chagrin,
Mrs. Peak had disclosed the story to her sister, who had repeated
it to the Misses Lumb, who in turn had made it the subject of a
letter to Lady Whitelaw. It was an annual practice with Sir Job to
discover some promising lad whom he could benefit by the payment of
his fees for a longer or shorter period of college study. The hint
from Twybridge came to him just at the suitable time, and, on
further inquiry, he decided to make proffer of this advantage to
Godwin Peak. The only condition was that arrangements should be
made by the student's relatives for his support during the proposed
period.

This generosity took away Godwin's breath. The expenditure it
represented was trifling, but from a stranger in Sir Job's position
it had something which recalled to so fervent a mind the poetry of
Medicean patronage. For the moment no faintest doubt gave warning
to his self-respect; he was eager to accept nobly a benefaction
nobly intended.

Miss Cadman, flattered by Sir Job's attention to her nephew, now
came forward with an offer to contribute towards Godwin's
livelihood. Her supplement would eke into adequacy such slender
allowance as the widow's purse could afford. Details were privately
discussed, resolves were taken. Mr. Moxey, when it was made known
to him, without explanation, that Godwin was to be sent to Whitelaw
College, behaved with kindness; he at once released the lad, and
added a present to the salary that was due. Proper acknowledgment
of the Baronet's kindness was made by the beneficiary himself, who
wrote a letter giving truer testimony of his mental calibre than
would have been offered had he expressed himself by word of mouth.
A genial reply summoned him to an interview as soon as he should
have found an abode in Kingsmill. The lodging he had occupied
during the examination was permanently secured, and a new period of
Godwin's life began.

For two years, that is to say until his age drew towards
nineteen, Peak pursued the Arts curriculum at Whitelaw. His mood on
entering decided his choice, which was left free to him. Experience
of utilitarian chemistry had for the present made his liberal
tastes predominant, and neither the splendid laboratories of
Whitelaw nor the repute of its scientific Professors tempted him to
what had once seemed his natural direction. In the second year,
however, he enlarged his course by the addition of one or two
classes not included in Sir Job's design; these were paid for out
of a present made to him by Mr. Gunnery.

It being customary for the regular students of Whitelaw to
graduate at London University, Peak passed his matriculation, and
worked on for the preliminary test then known as First B.A. In the
meanwhile he rose steadily, achieving distinction in the College.
The more observant of his teachers remarked him even where he fell
short of academic triumph, and among his fellow-students he had the
name of a stern 'sweater', one not easily beaten where he had set
his mind on excelling. He was not generally liked, for his mood
appeared unsocial, and a repelling arrogance was sometimes felt in
his talk. No doubt—said the more fortunate young men—he came from a
very poor home, and suffered from the narrowness of his means. They
noticed that he did not subscribe to the College Union, and that he
could never join in talk regarding the diversions of the town. His
two or three intimates were chosen from among those contemporaries
who read hard and dressed poorly.

The details of Godwin's private life were noteworthy. Accustomed
hitherto to a domestic circle, at Kingsmill he found himself
isolated, and it was not easy for him to surrender all at once the
comforts of home. For a time he felt as though his ambition were a
delinquency which entailed the punishment of loneliness. Nor did
his relations with Sir Job Whitelaw tend to mitigate this feeling.
In his first interview with the Baronet, Godwin showed to little
advantage. A deadly bashfulness forbade him to be natural either in
attitude or speech. He felt his dependence in a way he had not
foreseen; the very clothes he wore, then fresh from the tailor's,
seemed to be the gift of charity, and their stiffness shamed him. A
man of the world, Sir Job could make allowance for these defects.
He understood that the truest kindness would be to leave a youth
such as this to the forming influences of the College. So Godwin
barely had a glimpse of Lady Whitelaw in her husband's study, and
thereafter for many months he saw nothing of his benefactors.
Subsequently he was twice invited to interviews with Sir Job, who
talked with kindness and commendation. Then came the Baronet's
death. Godwin received an assurance that this event would be no
check upon his career, but he neither saw nor heard directly from
Lady Whitelaw.

BOOK: Born in Exile
4.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Articulate Mammal by Aitchison, Jean
Lord of Falcon Ridge by Catherine Coulter
Hallucinations by Oliver Sacks
PS02 - Without Regret by R.L. Mathewson
Gang of Four by Liz Byrski
The Long Hot Summer by Mary Moody
The Soul Of A Butterfly by Muhammad Ali With Hana Yasmeen Ali
The Devil's Match by Victoria Vane
Indian Hill by Mark Tufo