Sons and Lovers

ill Lane. There lived the colliers who worked in the little gin-pits two fields away. The brook ran under the alder trees, scar

down like ants into the earth, making queer mounds and little black places among the corn-fields and the meadows. And the cottages of these coal-mine

. The coal and iron field of Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire was discovered. Carston, Waite and Co. appeared. Amid tremen

ough growing old had acquired an evil reputation,

the woods, the railway ran, past the ruined priory of the Carthusians and past Robin Hood's Well, down to Spinney Park, then on to Minton, a large mine among corn-fields; from Minton across the farmlands of the valleyside t

quares, great quadrangles of dwellings on the hillside of Bestwood, and th

mino, and twelve houses in a block. This double row of dwellings sat at the foot of the rather sharp slope f

attics. But that was outside; that was the view on to the uninhabited parlours of all the colliers' wives. The dwelling-room, the kitchen, was at the back of the house, facing inward between the blocks, looking at a scrubby back garden, and then at the ash-pits. And between the rows, between the long lines of as

er, she had an end house in one of the top blocks, and thus had only one neighbour; on the other side an extra strip of garden. And, having an end house, she enjoyed a kind of aristocracy among

delicate mould but resolute bearing, she shrank a little from the first contact with th

, the day of the fair. The two children were highly excited. William, a boy of seven, fled off immediately after breakfast, to prowl round the wakes ground, leaving Annie, who was only five, to wh

a very active lad, fair-haired, freckled, wit

rushing in with his cap on. "'Cause it b

ner as soon as it's do

ue eyes staring at her in indigna

It will be done in five minute

n'," the boy half c

e mother. "Besides, it's only half-

jam, when the boy jumped off his chair and stood perfectly stiff. Some distance away could be heard the fir

id, running to the

five past one, so you were wrong-you haven't g

isappointed, for his twopence

nt to go," said Ann

the afternoon she trudged up the hill under the tall hedge with her child. The hay was

eeching of the cocoanut man's rattle, shouts of the Aunt Sally man, screeches from the peep-show lady. The mother perceived her son gazing enraptured outside the Lion Wallace booth, at the picture

a lot of things?-that lion's killed three

et two egg-cups, with p

es in them holes. An' I got these two in two goes-'aepenny

e wanted t

d, pleased. "T

, 'cause I'm frighte

story, to which he listened as if spellbound. He would not leave her. All the time he stuck close to her, bristling with a small boy's pride of her. For no othe

ou coming no

dy?" he cried, his f

t is past f

oin' a'ready fo

me if you don't

r go, and yet unable to leave the wakes. As she crossed the open ground in front of the Moon and Stars she h

mewhat wretched. He was miserable, though he did not know it, because he

ad been?"

aid the

seed him through that black tin stuff wi' holes

no money. An' he'll be satisfied if he gets hi

e side garden. Women were coming home from the wakes, the children hugging a white lamb with green legs, or a wooden horse. Occasionally a man lurched past, almost as full as he could carry. Sometimes a good husband cam

thing else would happen for her-at least until William grew up. But for herself, nothing but this dreary endurance-till the children grew up. And the children! She could not afford to have this third. She did not want it. The father was ser

yet unable to stay indoors. The heat suffocated her. And looking ahea

small gate was the stile that led uphill, under the tall hedge between the burning glow of the cut pastures. The sky overhead throbbed and pulsed with light. The glow sank q

apsed into a run down the steep bit that ended the hill, and went with a crash into the stile. Mrs. Morel shuddered

ey would not. She seemed so far away from her girlhood, she wondered if it were the same person walking heav

have I to do with all this? Even the child I am going to

along, accomplishes one's history, and yet is not

o herself-"I wait, and what

ter which she sat down to her sewing. Through the long hours her needle flashed regularly through the stuff. Occasionally she sig

very red and very shiny above his black moustache. H

' Anthony, an' what's think he's gen me? Nowt

de the rest up in be

tender. "Here, an' I browt thee a bit o' brandysnap, an' a cocoanut for th' children." He laid the gingerbread

up the cocoanut and shook it

e for my bit of a lad an' wench?' 'I ham, Walter, my lad,' 'e says; 'ta'e which on 'em ter's a mind.' An' so I took one, an' thanked 'im. I didn't like ter shake it

long as he's drunk, and you're dru

aid Morel. He was extraordinarily pleased with himself, because of

his babble, went to bed as quickly a

upt in the lace-market at a time when so many lace-manufacturers were ruined in Nottingham. Her father, George Coppard, was an engineer-a large, handsome, haughty man, proud of hi

er's overbearing manner towards her gentle, humorous, kindly-souled mother. She remembered running over the breakwater at Sheerness and finding the boat. She remembered to have been petted and flattered by all the men when she had gone to the dockyard, for she was a delicate, rather proud child. She remembered the funny old mist

k of her father's house. The sun came through the chinks of the vine-leaves and made beautiful patterns, li

bright as copper and gold, as red as burnt copper, and it has gold threads where th

ut her clear face scarcely showed

don't like busine

hate it!" he

o go into the ministr

t, if I thought I could ma

Her voice rang with defiance. "If

erect. He was rath

. He means to put me into the bu

re a MAN?" s

ing," he replied, frowning

oms, with some experience of what being a ma

d's father had been ruined; the son had gone as a teacher in Norwood. She did not hear of him until, two yea

od pretty well what he might or might not have been. So she preserved his Bible, and kept his memory in

rd that had never been shaved. His cheeks were ruddy, and his red, moist mouth was noticeable because he laughed so often and so heartily. He had that rare thing, a rich, ringing laugh. Gertrude Coppard had watched him, fascinated. He was so full of co

n leading folk to talk. She loved ideas, and was considered very intellectual. What she liked most of all was an argument on religion or philoso

nd searching. She had the beautiful hands of the Coppards. Her dress was always subdued. She wore dark blue silk, with a peculiar silver chain of silver

ent, and his face the flower of his body, ruddy, with tumbled black hair, and laughing alike whatever partner he bowed above. She thought him rather wonderful, never having met anyone like him. Her father was to her the type of all men. And George Coppard, proud in his bearing, handsome, and rather bitter; who preferred theology in reading, and who drew near in sympathy only to one man, the Apostle Paul; who was harsh in government, and in familiarity ironic; who ignored all sensuous pleasure:-he was very dif

A warmth radiated through h

," he said caressively. "It's easy, y

ced at his humility and smiled. Her smile was very be

e said softly. Her word

did the right thing by instinct-he sa

miss your dance

dance that-it's not

invited m

very hearti

. Tha'rt not long in tak

turn to lau

if you'd come much

l because I canna help it," h

iner!" she excla

t down when

t him in won

! And wasn't it ve

e like th' mice, an' you pop out

feel blind,

rd in the blind, snout-like way of a mole, seeming to sniff and peer for direction. "They dun though!" he protested nai

fe of the miners, hundreds of them toiling below earth and coming up at evening. He seemed to her noble.

he asked tenderly. "'Appe

en "thee'd" and

nd for three months she was perfectly h

but convenient enough, and quite nicely furnished, with solid, worthy stuff that suited her honest soul. The women, her neighbours, were rather foreign to h

y, but without understanding. This killed her efforts at a finer intimacy, and she had flashes of fear. Sometimes he was restle

man-could make or mend a

ake of your mother's-i

Well, I made that, so

, it's a s

s'lt ha'e one very simil

nor the hammering and noi

h a sudden curiosity, took them out to read. He very rarely wore the frock-coat he was married in: and it had not occu

d had had his dinner. "I found these in the pocket of

ven't had

ingham on Saturday and settle them. I don't like sitting

not a

your bank-bo

, for what good

of money left over. But she realised it was no use askin

e went down to

he furniture for

artly retorted

id he give you

was stung with f

ou're so keen on kn

there are forty-two

't hel

e has it

ou look-beside ten pound as he owed me, an

own father had paid so heavily for her wedding, six pounds more should have be

he sunk in his h

ses-whic

s. He had told her the house he live

house we live

r-in-law. "And not clear either. It's as much

and silent. She w

be paying you rent

ng me rent," re

rent?" ask

week," retort

worth. Gertrude held her head e

bitingly, "to have a husband as takes all the w

g wife w

r had changed towards him. Something in her proud,

ars ago, at Christmas, she had met him. Last Christmas she

st neighbour, in October, when there was great talk of open

least inclination to

ha' married your Mester. You know

e was famous," l

hat dancing-class in the Miners'

d h

as thronged every Tuesday, and Thursday, an' Sat'day-

d she had a fair share of it. The women did not spare her, a

rather late i

e now, aren't they?" she

p to have their pint at Ellen's, an' they get talkin', an'

l does not ta

ooked at Mrs. Morel, then went o

as good as gold. But she felt very lonely, miles away from her own people.

h changed gradually to a clear grey. His mother loved him passionately. He came just when her own bitterness of disillusion was hardest

lect her; the novelty of his own home was gone. He had no grit, she said bitterly to herself. What he felt just a

undertake his own responsibilities, to make him fulfill his obligations. But he was too different from her. His nature was purely sensuou

e trouble when the man began to bully. A little more, and the hard hands of the collier hit the baby. Then Mrs. Morel loathed her husband, l

m, knowingly or unknowingly, grossly to

nd his head. Mrs. Morel lay listening, one Sunday morning, to the chatter of the father and child downstairs. Then she dozed off. When she came downstairs, a great fire glowed in the grate, the room was hot, the breakfast was roughly laid, and seated in his armchair, against the chimney-piece,

her first baby. She went very

o' 'im?" Morel

, lifted them, and came f

she said. She choked with r

in a frightened tone, bending his head to shield his

lipped head of her child. She put her hands o

e buried her face in his shoulder and cried painfully. She was one of those women who cannot

d together till the knuckles were white. He gazed in the

t last her husband gathered it up and put it at the back of the fire. She went about her work with closed mouth and very quiet. Morel was subdued. He crept abo

elf to say to her husband it was just as well he had played barber when he did. But she knew, and Morel knew, that that act had caused s

e she had striven against him bitterly, she had fretted after him, as if he had gone astray from he

tans. It was now a religious instinct, and she was almost a fanatic with him, because she loved him, or had loved him. If he

ld have him the much that he ought to be. So, in seeking to make him nobler than he could be, she destroye

e. He sat in the Miners' Arms until turning-out time every Friday, every Saturday, and every Sunday evening. On Monday and Tuesday he had to get up and reluctantly leave t

lab-mouthed, a tongue-wagger. Authority was hateful to him, therefore

n about th' props?' 'It'll never do, this 'ere,' 'e says. 'You'll be havin' th' roof in, one o' these days.' An' I says, 'Tha'd better stan' on a bit o' clunch, then, an' hold it up wi' thy

or you?' So I says, 'I've niver fun out how much tha' kn

he two disliked each other, they more or less took each other for granted. But Alfred Charlesworth did not forgive the butty these public-house sayings. Consequently, although Morel was a

stand at the pit-mouth. The women on the hillside look across as they shake the hearthrug against the fence, and count the wagons the engine is taking along t

ed off. My dad'

women and children and men, because mo

hen he gave her twenty-five. In winter, with a decent stall, the miner might earn fifty or fifty-five shillings a week. Then he was happy. On Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday, he spent royally, getting rid of his sovereign or thereabo

be short, for when he's flush,

wenty he kept one-and-six; from eighteen he kept a shilling; from sixteen he kept sixpence. He never saved a penny, and he gave his wife no opportunity of saving; instead,

ed at home, harassed. There were two days' holiday. On the Tuesday morning Morel rose early. He was in good spirits. Quite early, before six o'clock, she heard him whistling away to himself downstairs. He had a

wed and hammered away. It always gave her a sense of warmth and peace to hear him thus as she

his sleeves rolled up, his waistcoat hanging open. He was still a good-looking man, with black, wavy hair, and a large black moustache. His face was perha

said boisterously. "Sluthe

ll I've finished

An' what i

ured threat am

d wash yourself in

' a', tha muck

hing her a moment, then

nd swilled as he washed himself, so much alacrity with which he hurried to the mirror in the kitchen, and, bending because it was too low for him, scrupulously parted his wet black hair, that it irritated

rather foxy face, the kind of face that seems to lack eyelashes. He walked with a stiff, brittle dignity, as if his head were on a wooden spring. H

ent dislike of her husband, that if he came into her room it caused her haemorrhage. None of which Jerry had seemed to mi

arted stick!" Mrs.

d Morel. "A opener-handed and more freer chap you

Morel. "But his fist is shut tight e

or are they poor things,

ld not be appeased

aning his thin neck over the sculler

missis!

-he

rway. He was not invited to sit down, but stood the

" he said to

Y

s morning-gran

'RE going for a

lkin' to Notting

'm

mounted gaily into the morning. At the Moon and Stars they had their first drink, then on to the Old Spot. Then a long five miles of drought to carry them into Bulwell to a glorious pint of bitter. But they stayed in a field with some haymakers whose gallon bottle was full, so that, when they came in sight of

pictures," he called them! But he was a master of skittles and of dominoes. He took a challenge from a Newark man, on skittles. All the men in the old, long bar took sides, betting either one way or the other. Morel took off his coat. Jerry held the

re in good condition. They

and threes, bareheaded and in white aprons, gossiped in the alley between the blocks. Men, having a rest betwe

Up at the dipping-hole, at the other end of the meadow, Mrs. Morel could see the naked forms of boys flashing round the deep yellow water, or an occasional bright figure dart glittering over the blackish stagnant meadow. She knew William

o bed at seven o'clock.

a railway journey no longer impended, so they could put the finishing touches to a

leep in preparation for the morrow. Mrs. Morel, listening to their mournful singing, went indoors. Nine o'clock passed, and ten, and still "the pair" had not returned. On a doors

e' weren't good

eamed slowly. Mrs. Morel took a panchion, a great bowl of thick red earth, streamed a heap of wh

nd when he was so hot; and a bad conscience afflicted him as he neared the house. He did not know he was angry. But when the garden gate resisted his attempts to open it, he kicked it and broke

cried, "coming home

what?" he snarled, h

r blood ros

NOT drunk!"

sugar into the beer. He dropped his two hands heavil

. "Why, nobody but a nasty little bit

is face for

le with, if there's mo

two-shillin' bit t

e cried, flashing into sudden fury, "if you've been sponging on your

s a lie. Shut yo

e hatred of the other and the battle between them. She was fi

ll me that-you, the most despicable liar that ever walked in sh

nging the table with his fist.

herself, with

filthy with yo

ted. "It's me as brings th' money whoam, not thee. It'

e long ago, but for those children. Ay, haven't I repented not going years ago, when I'd only the one"-

shouted, beside

your own way; you shan't do ALL you like. I've got those children to se

lifting his fist. He w

ld laugh, laugh, my lord, if I cou

o himself, panting, he pushed her roughly to the outer door, and thrust her forth, slotting the bolt behind her with a bang. Then he went back into the kitchen,

, while the child boiled within her. For a while she could not control her consciousness; mechanically she went over the last scene, then over it again, certain phrases, certain moments coming each time like a brand red-hot down on her soul; and each time she enacted again the past hour, each time the brand came down at the same points, till the mark was burnt in, and the pain burnt out, and at last s

in face of her, the moonlight standing up from the hills in front, and filling the valley where the Bottoms crouched, almost blindingly.

eir perfume, as with a presence. Mrs. Morel gasped slightly in fear. She touched the big, pallid flowers on their petals, then shivered. They seemed to be stretching in the moonlight. She put her hand into one whi

ling of sickness, and her consciousness in the child, herself melted out like scent into the shiny, pale air. After a time the child, too,

it with her eye roused her. A few whiffs of the raw, strong scent of phlox invigorated her. She passed along the path, hesitating at the white rose-bush. It smelled sweet and simple. She touched the white ruffles

red across the valley. The night was very large, and very strange, stretching its hoary distances infinitely. And out of the silver-

bolted, and hard against her. She rapped gently, waited, then rapped again. She must not rouse the children, nor the neighbours. He must be asleep, and he wou

arms spread out on the table, and his black head on the board. He was sleeping with his face lying on the table. Something in his attitude made her feel tired of things. The lamp was b

he went down to the coal-house, where there was an old hearthrug she had carried out for the rag-man the day before. This she wrapped over her shoulders. It was warm, if grimy. Th

lift his face blindly. The labouring of his heart hurt him into consciousness. She rapped imperatively at the window. He started awake. Instantly she saw his fists set and

r, Walter," s

e saw him hurry to the door, heard the bolt chock. He tried the latch. It opened-and there st

stairs. He had ripped his collar off his neck in his haste to be gone ere

the hearth to warm, set his pit-boots beside them, put him out a clean scarf and snap-bag and two apples, raked the fire, and went to bed. He was already dead asleep. His narrow black eyebrows were

face all smeared with the yellow dust of lilies. She brushed it off, and at last lay down. For some time her mind con