Typhus Epidemic at Lowood
The typhus epidemic at Lowood Institution was the catastrophic consequence of years of systematic neglect, semi-starvation, and inadequate sanitation, and it became the event that finally broke the school's oppressive regime. The outbreak transformed the seminary into a hospital, killed nearly half the pupils, and triggered a public inquiry that exposed the institution's abuses, leading to the removal of the worst practices and the establishment of a reformed, truly useful school.
Causes and Background
The epidemic did not strike a healthy population. The pupils had been systematically weakened by chronic underfeeding and neglected colds, which predisposed most of them to receive infection. The site of Lowood itself was a forest-dell that served as "the cradle of fog and fog-bred pestilence," and the disease, quickening with the spring, crept into the crowded schoolroom and dormitory. The water used in food preparation was brackish and fetid, the clothing wretched, and the accommodations inadequate—all conditions that had been imposed by Mr. Brocklehurst's regime of false economy and harsh discipline.
Course of the Epidemic
By the time May arrived, the seminary had been transformed into an hospital. Forty-five out of the eighty girls lay ill at one time. Classes were broken up and rules relaxed; the few who remained well were allowed almost unlimited license, as the medical attendant insisted on frequent exercise to keep them healthy, and no one had leisure to watch them. Miss Temple's whole attention was absorbed by the patients; she lived in the sick-room, never quitting it except to snatch a few hours' rest at night. The teachers were fully occupied packing up for the departure of those girls fortunate enough to have friends able to remove them from the seat of contagion. Many who were already smitten went home only to die; some died at the school and were buried quietly and quickly, the nature of the malady forbidding delay. While disease and death filled the house with gloom and hospital smells, the bright May sunshine shone unclouded over the hills and woods outside, and the garden glowed with flowers—hollyhocks, lilies, tulips, and roses—whose fragrance was useless for most inmates except to furnish herbs and blossoms for a coffin.
Consequences and Aftermath
The typhus fever fulfilled its mission of devastation and then gradually disappeared, but not until its virulence and the number of its victims had drawn public attention to the school. An inquiry was made into the origin of the scourge, and by degrees various facts came out which excited public indignation: the unhealthy nature of the site, the quantity and quality of the children's food, the brackish fetid water used in its preparation, and the pupils' wretched clothing and accommodations. The discovery produced a result mortifying to Mr. Brocklehurst but beneficial to the institution. Several wealthy and benevolent individuals subscribed largely for the erection of a more convenient building in a better situation. New regulations were made, improvements in diet and clothing introduced, and the funds of the school were entrusted to the management of a committee. Mr. Brocklehurst, though he retained the post of treasurer due to his wealth and family connections, was aided by gentlemen of more enlarged and sympathising minds, and his office of inspector was shared by those who knew how to combine reason with strictness, comfort with economy, and compassion with uprightness. The school, thus improved, became in time a truly useful and noble institution. Jane Eyre remained an inmate of its walls after its regeneration for eight years—six as pupil and two as teacher—and in both capacities she bore testimony to its value and importance.