ABSTRACT

MARRIED SILENCE: COVERTURE AND VOCIE IN MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT’S MARIA AND JANE AUSTEN’S PERSUASION

This thesis explores the relationship between the marital common law of coverture and the expression of women’s audible and rhetorical voices. This law, which contributed to the silencing of women in both public and private spaces, is portrayed in the novels of Mary Wollstonecraft and Jane Austen. Taking two different approaches in discussing marriage, these authors focus on wives’ lack of voice and power. Wollstonecraft’s Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman illustrates the wrongs women suffer at the hands of tyrannical husbands, while Austen’s Persuasion focuses on the importance of women’s voices, emphasizing the rights women enjoy because of weak or absent husbands. Wollstonecraft fails to present a sustainable environment where her heroine can exercise autonomy outside of patriarchal power or permission and Austen’s production of marriages in which husbands are dependent upon their wives suggests that freedom in marriage only comes with weak husbands. Ultimately, neither author is able to present a realistic, applicable representation of marriage where women have equal power and voice, illuminating just how complex the issue was, and still is, for women.

Misty Pauline Lawrenson May 2018

MARRIED SILENCE: COVERTURE AND VOCIE IN MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT’S MARIA AND JANE AUSTEN’S PERSUASION

by Misty Pauline Lawrenson

A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts in English in the College of Arts and Humanities California State University, Fresno May 2018 APPROVED For the Department of English:

We, the undersigned, certify that the thesis of the following student meets the required standards of scholarship, format, and style of the university and the student's graduate degree program for the awarding of the master's degree.

Misty Pauline Lawrenson Thesis Author

Steve Adisasmito-Smith (Chair) English

Ruth Jenkins English

Melanie Hernandez English

For the University Graduate Committee:

Dean, Division of Graduate Studies AUTHORIZATION FOR REPRODUCTION OF MASTER’S THESIS

X I grant permission for the reproduction of this thesis in part or in its entirety without further authorization from me, on the condition that the person or agency requesting reproduction absorbs the cost and provides proper acknowledgment of authorship.

Permission to reproduce this thesis in part or in its entirety must be obtained from me.

Signature of thesis author: ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I would like to thank my chair, Dr. Steve Adisasmito-Smith, for taking me in halfway through this project and guiding me toward completion. His encouragement, insight, and guidance gave me the tools and confidence I needed to write what I knew I could write. I would like to thank my committee members, Dr. Ruth Jenkins and Dr. Melanie Hernandez, for their feedback and direction as I revised, refined, and expanded my argument. To Dr. Jenkins, who I first met 14 years ago in an Introduction to Literature class, you are the first professor who told me that my voice counted and the ideas I had about literature were valuable. Thank you for helping me to remember that my voice still matters. To Dr. Toni Wein, thank you for introducing me to Mary Wollstonecraft and the laws which surrounded women and for the great amount of time you gave. I thank my parents for their unwavering and unconditional support. To my husband, Dustin, when I first started on this journey, I don’t think either of us really knew what we would go through and where it would lead us. I am comforted to have you by my side. Thank you for being willing to reevaluate the traditional roles of husband and wife and for stepping up to the task of taking care of our children, and for doing dinners, bedtime, and dishes. Thank you for your support in those dark moments, your strength in the trying ones, your cheers on the bright days and your love and support through it all, I love you. To my youngest and only son, Thaddeus, you have been a significant part of my master’s experience. I will forever treasure our drives to school together, playing endless games of “I spy” and “knock-knock.” Finally, to my girls, Brooklyn and Lillian, my hope is that you will never lose your voice, that you will stand tall and always, always speak your mind. You motivate me to move forward—I dedicate this work to you. TABLE OF CONTENTS Page

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCING VOICE ...... 1

CHAPTER 2: WOMEN AND THE LAW OF COVERTURE ...... 13

CHAPTER 3: WOLLSTONECRAFT’S COVERED MARIA ...... 20

CHAPTER 4: AUSTEN’S SILENCED ANNE ...... 40

CHAPTER 5: CONCLUDING BUT NOT DONE SPEAKING ...... 59

WORKS CITED ...... 63

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCING VOICE

When asked to reflect on my childhood and teenage years, I repeatedly recall the same image: I am standing with a group a people, screaming as loud as I can but not a sound is heard. The anger and frustration I see on my face is compounded with the claustrophobia and powerlessness I feel as I strain to hear my own soundless voice. The longer I stand silently screaming, the more people crowd around me, talking over and above me; neither noticing nor hearing what I so desperately want to say. Some feminist authors, writing about female experience, address women’s oppression in both explicit and implicit ways. In their writings, they use their own voices to critique practices that damaged and silenced women. Mary Wollstonecraft and Jane Austen, separated by about 20 years are two such writers whose approaches and methods are different, both address the problematic issues of women’s subjugation and voice in marriage. Wollstonecraft explicitly spoke out about women’s suppressed position most notably in her prose, A Vindication of the Rights of Women (1792) while Austen and her marriage plot novels took a more implicit route. Although it is not common to discuss these authors side by side, doing so reveals two writers who challenge their readers to reconsider the institution of marriage as it was commonly practiced, the effect it had upon women’s voices, and the moves women made in an attempt to maintain and regain their voice. The need to study and speak about women’s voices in marriage is motivated by a frequent phenomenon seen throughout history and more disturbingly, witnessed in the twenty-first century. When some women become engaged to be married, often behavior and personality change. I have frequently 2 2 observed a once outgoing, sometimes even irreverent, fun young lady quickly become reserved, quiet, and timid. She may express feelings of happiness, yet she defers to her fiancée repeatedly, he becomes involved with everything she does, and after they marry, her friends never see her. She abandons her educational aspirations and career goals, trading them in for laundry soap and bathroom cleaner, criticized when she laments what she has lost. She struggles to move past conservative teachings about the roles of husband and wife in a family; roles summed up in the phrase, “Husbands are the head of the home and the wife is the heart.” A statement such as this implies a man is responsible for taking care of his family, to preside over his home, and his wife is a nurturer, taking care of the children and seeing to a clean home and healthy meals. As if a wife is incapable of being in a position of power and influence and a husband void of tender feelings and actions, young girls are instructed that their primary responsibility will be in the house, cornered and silenced into domestic roles. Many wives accept their fate and stifled voices. When considering voice and what it means, it is crucial to understand that I define it and refer to it in two different ways: rhetorical and audible. The audible voice is the vocal noise a woman generates when she speaks, the fluctuation of speech, pitch, and volume. It is a sound she makes in both public and private spaces. Rhetorical voice is the meaning and influence of her audible voice; it is representative of her thoughts, desires, persuasions, and autonomy. A key aspect of a woman’s rhetorical voice is the power it displays through motivation to action. Unfortunately, few women have been able to fully express such a voice. Even though historically most women possessed an audible voice, that voice was restricted as far as when it could be revealed and limited in what it stated. In other words, although a woman was granted permission to use her audible voice, she 3 3 usually could only say those things society deemed appropriated. Even though she spoke, her rhetorical voice was silenced because if her rhetorical voice expressed that which was contrary to acceptable speech, it was almost never given a platform for expression, nor did it empower action. In those cases when a woman’s voice was either manipulated or completely silenced, a few women often looked for alternate ways to communicate their rhetorical voices. In my search to understand why women struggled with the expression of both their audible and rhetorical voices, I discovered the marital common law of coverture. Under the law of coverture, husbands gain control and possession of their wives’ movable goods, the wife does not possess a legal identity, nor does she have rights to her own money. Coverture only applied to married women (femes covert), as single women (femes sole), were able to maintain control of their own possession, moveable goods, and income. This law, often referred to as a legal fiction, nevertheless practiced as common law in Early Modern England, lasted legally until the enactment of the 1870 Married Women’s Property Act, saturated English culture and challenged women’s autonomy and voice. In response to women’s circumstances, Mary Wollstonecraft explicitly and unapologetically criticizes the subordination of women in Vindication, arguing that the slavery women are born into is due to a “false sense of education” created by men “more anxious to make [their women] alluring mistresses than affectionate wives and rational mothers” (Vindication 71). She encourages women to embrace education and become active in change, persuading them to fortify their minds and bodies. Educating women strengthens their minds and, according to Wollstonecraft, “there will be an end to blind obedience” (Vindication 90). She postulates that women need to become “in some degree, independent of men” (Vindication 221)—an interesting concept, considering the extreme amount of 4 4 dependency the law required women to have on men. In encouraging women to gain independency, Wollstonecraft is asking women to do something nearly impossible without changing the law. She further examines women’s dependency in her unfinished novel, Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman (1798). Maria depicts the “wrongs” endured by women through the life of the heroine, Maria. She illustrates the economic limitations, physical and verbal abuse, and oppression which married women suffered at the hands of their husbands, and which single women suffered at the hands of both women and men. Wollstonecraft uses Maria to highlight the struggles women face trying to overcome those wrongs. Readers see Maria’s life dramatically change when she enters into the law of coverture through marriage and witness her efforts to fight against such oppression. Even though coverture attempts, and at times successfully silences her, Maria endeavors to regain her voice—a move that both succeeds and fails. As she interacts with female and feminized characters, Maria is able to express both a rhetorical and audible voice. When her voice is restricted either by the law itself (speaking in court) or through patriarchal power (limitations of visitors while incarcerated in the mad house), she strives to navigate around those restriction to find a way to give her rhetorical voice sound. For example, she reverts to the written word as a means to both communicate with her lover and testify in court. Being forced to navigate around the expectations, conventions, and legal practices of a patriarchal society in order to speak her voice suggests that successful autonomy for women can only come in re-inventing the social sphere; that is, even though women find success in a patriarchal society, that success is only realized by following the conventions and expectations of that society. How autonomous is a woman whose power is only achieved by following the 5 5 expectations and rules of a patriarchal society? Is she truly autonomous when her actions are dictated by the social expectations and common laws created by men? Wollstonecraft’s novel is unable to answer to this dilemma. She recognizes that there needs to be a change in society but is unable to fully articulate how and where that change should happen. Through her inability to provide those answers, we are shown just how complex, and far reaching, the consequences of the law were for women, which encourages a necessary conversation about women’s privileges, power, and voice in marriage. Critics who study Wollstonecraft recognize her contribution to women’s rights; at the same time, they see Wollstonecraft questioning the realistic application of those rights. Mitzi Myers as well as Anne Landers agree, that while Wollstonecraft explicitly provides suggestions on how women should act and respond in certain circumstances, Wollstonecraft is unable to wholeheartedly endorse the social world for which she advocates. Susan Gubar explores the contradictions between Wollstonecraft’s life and writings and discusses what she calls “feminist misogyny” present in Vindication and Wollstonecraft’s fictional works, Mary, a Fiction and Maria. In her well-known article, “Feminist Misogyny: Mary Wollstonecraft and the Paradox of ‘It Takes One to Know One,’” Gubar claims that Wollstonecraft’s language and description of women in Vindication, while trying to liberate women from oppression, leads to a distain of women themselves. She suggests the contradictions found between Vindication and Wollstonecraft’s novels illustrate both what Wollstonecraft believed she should have been and what she feared she actually was. Gubar calls these contradictions a “culturally induced schizophrenia of an antinarcissist” (461). What Gubar brings to light is a phenomenon not isolated to Mary Wollstonecraft. Many women, like Wollstonecraft, have an idea of what they believe they could 6 6 and want to be, and often this vision is different from the one society paints or expects. Therefore, an oscillation between what they are, should be, and want to be happens; creating a sense of confusion and uncertainty regarding who they really are. They are not able to obtain clarity in their identity because of an unwillingness to change that stems from a need which finds importance in their defeated state. Breaking free from this phenomenon is challenging, and Gubar does not give suggestions on how Wollstonecraft, or women for that matter, can do it. It is important to understand the conversation scholars had about Wollstonecraft’s relationship to the social world she defines because this complex relationship is further understood when considering the laws she criticizes. Wollstonecraft understood that the laws themselves had a direct and lasting impact on the perception and behavior of women. Anne Mellor recognizes this as she argues against Gubar’s interpretation of Wollstonecraft’s attack on women. Mellor believes Wollstonecraft is actually criticizing “the attitudes and behavior produced in women by the construction of gender in her society, and not these ‘brain-washed’ females as individuals” (418). Further, according to Mellor, a more compelling study would be on the criticism of the culture instead of the person. Mellor posits that Wollstonecraft wanted to gain for women the legal status of ‘persons’ which would allow them to own their own bodies and property, as well as liberalize laws which influenced marriage, divorce, and child custody. More recent scholarship follows Mellor’s theories by focusing on the laws surrounding Wollstonecraft’s writings. Kristin Kalsem’s study concentrates on the law of coverture, claiming that Maria performs a feminist jurisprudence, while Fern Pullan looks at the relationship between law and women as property and how women’s rights are affected by their property status. Devon Sherman talks about 7 7 legal persona and suggests that in Wollstonecraft’s need to show Maria as fully human, she uses Jemima as a representation of someone not deserving of rights, and Mona Scheuermann discusses how the financial limitations women faced challenged their autonomy. These critics are looking at how the law impacts different aspect of women’s lives and how that is presented in Wollstonecraft’s texts. While those critics focus on the representation of law within Wollstonecraft’s writings, they do not look at the relationship between laws and a woman’s voice. Inspecting the consequences of the laws, specifically the law of coverture, reveals a practice that, in nearly every instance, silenced women and denied them a platform from which to sound their rhetorical voice. The legal standing and rights women possessed did not afford them the privilege, opportunity, or permission to speak or question the behavior of the men in their lives. It is these actual practices Wollstonecraft not only criticizes but also challenges in her novel. Whereas Mary Wollstonecraft clearly advocates for what will gain traction as a feminist cause, some have questioned Jane Austen’s motives and methods. Critics wonder if she agreed with Wollstonecraft’s stance, or if she had a different idea of female autonomy and power. Austen’s rise to fame consisted of multiple novels which contained the marriage plot. If Austen was truly advocating for female independence and autonomy, why does she write novels which advocate and celebrate marriage—an institution which so often oppressed women? Novel after novel, she writes of heroines (some more feminist than others) who find themselves entangled in a love plot, realizing when it is almost too late that they really do love Mr. Darcy, that Willoughby is a rake and Colonel Brandon the dashing, worthy catch, or that their first instinct to marry Wentworth was the 8 8 correct decision. Some can see these marriages as a nod to female submission because the heroines’ arcs center around securing a husband. Nevertheless, writing these plots did not necessarily mean that Austen advocated for the domestic and public submission of women. In Julie Shafer’s article, “Not Subordinate: Empowering Women in the Marriage-Plot—The Novels of Frances Burney, Maria Edgeworth, and Jane Austen,” Shafter discusses the two different ideologies found in marriage plots: the lover / mentor and perfect heroine. In her introductory remarks, Shafer briefly outlines the significance of marriage plots, saying they were often a means to an end. She proposes that the popularity and acceptability of writing marriage plots provided female authors with a means for acceptable employment. Taking this into consideration, a feminist may excuse Austen for writing so many marriage focused novels, while other critics find subversive texts in those love stories. William Magee, for example, analyzes Austen’s use of the marriage plot in each of her novels and concludes that she expands and enlarges the plot. Austen, he claims, adjusts the marriage narrative with each novel she writes, moving from women seeking a husband for stability in marriage to women entering into marriage when men show an increasing amount of respect for women. In Persuasion, he sees Austen ending in a place where sensibility is valued, men respect their heroine, the neglected contributions women can make to society are highlighted, and the heroines have power to enter into a new way of life in their society. In this light, Austen’s marriage plots do demonstrate more support for the feminist cause than perhaps originally believed. Whereas most critics agree Austen was a feminist writer, they focus on and locate different ways in which Austen presents her feminism. Gary Kelly considers Austen a feminist who participated in feminism by engaging in the civil 9 9 society, concluding that Austen accepts domestic roles of women but does so with the understanding that these roles are critical in creating and maintain civic society. Laura Voracheck analyzes Austen’s work as a response to James Fordyce’s Sermons to Young Women, claiming Austen’s novel, Pride and Prejudice, playfully resists Fordyce’s ideology, while Miriam Ascarelli solicits that Austen was more sympathetic to Mary Wollstonecraft’s ideals than typically believed. Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar suggest that Austen writes cover stories, “the dramatization of the necessity of female submission for female survival” in her novels to hide a variety of meanings in each book; just as she used blotting paper to hide her manuscripts (154). Although taking different approaches, most of these critics agree that within Austen’s novels, we find subversive texts, which support female expression and independence and criticize laws and customs that hinder that expression and independence. One of the laws Austen clearly criticizes in her writings is primogeniture, an inheritance law which often adversely effected women. Zouheir Jamoussi explains that primogeniture functioned as both custom and law. For example, when primogeniture operates within an entail or settlement it is referred to as a custom, right, or rule. Primogeniture, the law, deals solely with “intestacy, or cases in which the father or head of the family dies intestate, that is without leaving a will” and within these instances of intestacy, movable and personal property is granted to the first-born son (Jamoussi 9). In both cases, daughters are usually bypassed in wills and property inheritance. The financial struggles of families who have lost or will lose their homes because of the inheritance law introduces the story of Sense and Sensibility and is the driving force behind Mrs. Bennet’s shenanigans in Pride and Prejudice. In fact, it can be difficult to think of 10 10

Austen’s novels and not consider primogeniture and scholars have studied and commented on primogeniture’s influence on Austen’s texts. However, it was not the only issue nor only law which concerned Austen. We see one of the issues in which she was interested, the expression of women’s voices, through her creation of endearing, outspoken heroines throughout her different texts. As those outspoken heroines move toward marriage, the power of the law of coverture is brought into question. While much can be said about each heroine, a focus on Anne Elliot in Austen’s final published novel, Persuasion, reveals the issues with coverture and shows Austen representing and criticizing the law through her heroine’s experiences. It is in this novel the young lady (Anne) who, unlike the popular Elizabeth Bennett, does not begin the novel possessing a strong voice nor determined character. She is in love with Wentworth, happily “receiv[ed] his declarations and proposals” but is easily persuaded to “believe the engagement a wrong thing” and put “an end to it” (22-23). She becomes like a parrot, repeating the thoughts and comments of those around her—failing to sound her own thoughts and desires. She is not entitled to any financial inheritance at Kellynch and does not have means by which she can independently or financially survive outside the care of her father. Like many of her married counterparts, though, Anne begins to fight against the oppression. She realizes her regret of allowing others to speak for her and begins to seek for autonomy. After leaving Kellynch and traveling to Lyme and finally Bath, she begins to express her audible voice and more importantly her rhetorical voice. Interestingly, after she boldly speaks her mind, defending women and voicing her opinions about love, Wentworth is motivated to express his love for her, asking her to marry him. She willingly and excitedly agrees to marry, and the novel concludes with the readers eagerly digesting another marriage plot. Yet, 11 11 as Magee points out, this marriage plot is a little different in that it suggests a new type of marriage: one where women have a voice within matrimony. But is it really that simple? Did Austen find the solution Wollstonecraft was grasping for—that women just need to speak up in marriage? One could argue that Austen's Persuasion responds to Wollstonecraft by presenting marriages in which women are represented in strength and voice both rhetorical and audible. But a problem arises when we take a closer look at Persuasion’s husbands. Ultimately, the women are allowed to be strong because the men are weak, needy, or absent; leading one to question the strength the women possessed. Would the women be as strong, would they have as powerful a voice if their husbands were not physically, mentally, emotionally weak, or absent? Austen's novel, like Wollstonecraft’s, does not answer this question and we are left to wonder how women are going to be able to obtain and maintain autonomy and voice within coverture (which relies on patriarchal power), without patriarchal permission, or influence. In addressing those questions, this thesis will focus on Mary Wollstonecraft’s Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman and Jane Austen’s Persuasion. I will first discuss the law of coverture, how it was practiced, and its implications for women. Moving into a detailed analysis of Maria, I explore the multiple instances where women are silenced, tie that silencing to the law, expose Wollstonecraft’s disdain for the law, and explore the ways in which she tries (and ultimately fails) to create a positive environment for women to express their voices. Shifting focus to Austen’s Persuasion, I concentrate on Anne’s voice, how she discovers and finally boldly expresses that voice and I then challenge the portrayal of strong outspoken women in the novel by bringing to light the weakness of their male counterparts. As I explore the expression of voice in each 12 12 novel, I will critique the role coverture played in oppressing women’s voices, the authors’ response to that oppression, and their failed attempts in creating a realistic, positive environment for women within the realm of marriage.

CHAPTER 2: WOMEN AND THE LAW OF COVERTURE

Before discussing how each novel addresses coverture, it is important to understand the law itself and how it was practiced. Pinpointing the exact origin of coverture is difficult because it evolved from unwritten common law. Influenced by a paternalistic idea that wives needed protecting and governing by their husbands, it focuses on both wives’ legal identity and possession of moveable goods. Sara Butler argues that the law combines two different ideas, one that the wife is “under the rod” of her husband as described in Henrici de Bracton’s Thirteenth-century writings, Legibus Et Consuetudinibus Angliæ, and two, the idea of “unity of person” stemming from biblical teachings (Butler 25). It can be inferred from Bracton’s text that being “under the rod” implies the husband has power over his wife and her actions. Bracton cites an incident where a husband, Roger, was hung but his wife “was set free, whether privy to the crime or not, because she was under the rod of her husband” (265). His writing shows the wife was not held responsible for any crimes because she was “under the rod” or controlled by her husband, a common and accepted idea. The biblical teaching of unity stems from the creation story in “Genesis.” After Eve is created from Adam’s rib, the text reasons, “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh” (Kings James Bible, Gen. 2.24). Paternalistic culture appointed the husbands as the one in charge of that “one flesh.” In both instances, the husband demonstrates control and dominion over his wife. This dominance over wives is evident in the study Butler conducted with multiple cases written in Medieval Year Books, documents which recorded “dialogues between king’s justices and pleaders” (26). Her research reveals that 14 14 ideas central to coverture were commonly used and enforced throughout the Middle Ages, and those practices continued on into early Modernity. Then, in the 1760’s, William Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws of England produced a written text of the common law of coverture, giving a clear picture of married women’s plight. He writes, “By marriage, the husband and wife are one person in law. . . [she is] consolidated into that of the husband: under whose wing, protection and cover she performs everything” (442). During the late eighteenth and early-nineteenth centuries, this law, although focused on property and moveable goods, damaged women’s identity and silenced their voices. It is crucial to acknowledge that this applied to married women. Prior to marriage, a single woman (feme sole) possessed similar legal rights and responsibilities as a man under Blackstone’s framework. She was able to purchase items on credit in her own name, buy and sell property, and even sue others in court (Dolan 75). Looking at the women who actually accomplished those things reveals that the number of those who actually enjoyed these rights were limited. Most women went from their father’s hand to their husband’s, and as a result, were not able to experience nor exercise the rights of feme sole. When a woman married, she lost all those rights and privileges possessed by femes sole. Becoming a feme covert, she is “covered” by her husband through the law of coverture. Under this law, once a man and wife are married her husband “gain[s] outright permanent possession of all his wife’s moveable goods” (Bailey 351-352). Furthermore, any monies received on lands which the woman brought into the marriage were deemed the property of the husband to collect and do with as he desired. Even though his wife’s property was considered his own, if a husband wanted to sell it, he needed permission from his wife. This aspect of the law 15 15 complicated marital issues and reinforced spousal abuse as illustrated by Elizabeth Foyster. According to Foyster, many times, a man would abuse his wife in order to coerce her into the selling of property. In Foyster’s article, she points to the measures husbands took in securing dominance over their wives by discussing multiple cases brought before the King’s Bench between 1738-1800. She demonstrates that the gaps in the law enabled men to either commit their wives to madhouses or confine them to their homes. These practices “demonstrate[d] male power and limit[ed] women’s agency over both their personal space and their property” (42). The law failed to protect women, rather it physically damaged them because it did not take into consideration the masses of unjust, tyrannical husbands who naturally took advantage of any power allotted them. Additionally, in order to purchase anything, a wife had to use her husband’s credit and she could only purchase items on credit if she did so in her husband’s name. The husband then, was required to provide for the “necessities” of his wife and children; necessities being variable depending on social class and standing. At the same time, if a husband wanted to restrict or deny his wife’s purchases he could by way of a public announcement. The power over a woman’s necessities (food, clothing, shelter) signifies the incredible amount of control a husband had over his wife—he controlled her very living circumstances. The law did not end with property and monetary rights. The woman lost all legal credibility and responsibility as William Blackstone explains, the “legal existence of the woman is suspended during the marriage, or at least is incorporated and consolidated into that of the husband” (Blackstone 77). The use of the word “suspended” suggest that it isn’t annihilated completely; rather, it is put on hold until she is either widowed or divorced. It is something marriage steals from her and divorce or death returns. Nevertheless, during the time of her 16 16 marriage, she does not have a legal identity, nor does she have the ability to speak in court. Some saw this aspect of the law as potentially protecting wives from many legal misfortunes; they were “not liable for most misdemeanors [they] might commit” (Dolan 76). If a wife did commit a crime in the company of her husband, he would be liable “because the law supposed that she acted under his coercion” (Bailey 352). In other words, according to coverture, a wife, when in the presence of her husband, is incapable of committing a crime on her own. This reveals two disturbing issues, one, that the law assumes the husband has the power and ability to coerce his wife to commit a crime (she is still “under the rod”), and two, that the law believes women couldn’t possibly independently decide to commit the crime. In doing this, the law inadvertently declared that women were powerless against their husbands and were unable to think and act on their own. Taking away a woman’s ability to think and act on her own is a blow to her identity. Now, the law did not literally take away the woman’s ability to think nor did it take her ability to commit a crime, as there were women who committed crimes without any encouragement or influence from their husbands. Rather, the law did not hold women accountable for their actions—regardless of the motivation behind it. It is important to note that this is the case for femes covert. Femes sole would have the same expectations and legal responsibilities of a man, suggesting that married women were inferior to their single counterparts. Nevertheless, married women were granted some rights in equity, ecclesiastical law, and customary law. JoAnne Bailey studied cases brought before ecclesiastical courts, central equity courts, quarter sessions, and local courts or request between 1660-1800. She discovered women occupied a large portion of sole, co-plaintiffs, and defendants. This alone would lead one to say that, of 17 17 course women have a voice--the records of the law prove it. Yet, their voices served only to elicit punishment on their husbands for his mistreatment. It did not solicit a change of law or situation for women. What does it say about the value of her voice, if it is only heard when she is beaten, starved, or imprisoned? Even then, not all cased of abuse were reported; we only read about the lucky ones. On the upside, coverture did allow for women to have separate estates, yet Elizabeth Foyster argues that these estates were a “very limited concession to married woman, for if women were not also given full rights over their own bodies, then it appears that they had few means by which they could protect that property. Without those rights, women were left open to threats and coercion of both a physical and sexual kind” (49). Essentially, what it boils down to is that even though statutes were in place which supposedly provided rights for women, those rights were limited. Women were not given full rights to themselves, making it almost impossible to take advantage of any minimal rights they had. With these minimal rights and the circumstances in which femes covert found themselves, we wonder about the difference between a wife as a companion and wife as property. Scholars like Frances Dolan argues that coverture did not equate to the “transformation of married women into chattel” (76). She posits that the law of coverture made man and wife one, not the man the owner and the wife his property. But I disagree with her conclusion. If husband and wife were truly one, they would have one purpose and equal rights. Upon marriage, the wife would take equal partnership of her husband’s properties, able to buy or sell as she would like, make contracts and sue; because in theory, she is her husband and as one with her husband: her word is his word. Clearly, this is not how the law of coverture situated women. It was painfully one sided, and although not written 1 8 18 into law, implied that the wife became property of her husband along with her moveable goods. Because the law would not grant women full autonomy, they sought it by any means they could. One way in which they did this was by navigating around the law, finding alternate ways to secure their finances. For instance, Margaret Hunt’s research revealed a situation when a husband, Richard North, sued his wife’s friend for £30. That money, Mr. North claimed, was given to the friend by his wife so Mrs. North could freely spend money without his influence. Some wives, Hunt suggests, even “organized secret or semi-secret financial networks and sources of supply” (“Wives and Marital Rights” 123). Through these networks, women could hold onto a portion of the money they brought to the marriage, and some even used those networks to save and track monies they acquired by working (“Wives and Marital Rights” 122). Certainly, women did not like the idea of losing all control of their finances. Additionally, Danaya Wright cites letters and personal writings ranging from the late 1600’s up to the late 1800’s which highlights both the frustration women had with the law and the moves they made to circumvent it. Of special note is Elizabeth Freke’s personal memoirs which illustrate her husband’s gross mismanagement of a fortune she brought into the marriage. According to Wright, when Elizabeth references the finances in her writings, she frequently refers to them as hers instead of ours or more legally accurate, his. Wright further cites how Elizabeth expressed frustrations at her inability to influence any financial transaction her husband chose to complete with her money. Even though Elizabeth was unable to break free from her husband, Wright points out that she often stayed with her sisters and father, and at one point was able to live separate from her husband for about eight years. What we see with both Elizabeth and Mrs. North, are two women who 19 19 clearly despised the law of coverture and tried to find ways to cope with or circumvent it. Other women used literary means to publicly express their disdain for the law. Mary Wollstonecraft was one such author and as explored in the next chapter, we will see within her novel, Maria, a scathing commentary on the law of coverture. Wollstonecraft’s heroine Maria states, “A wife being as much a man’s property as his horse, or his ass, she has nothing she can call her own” (Wollstonecraft, Maria 91). The nothing referred to is all encompassing. As with the rights to what they owned, what they were able to do and how they were to do it was dictated by law and essentially by their husbands, they entered into a condition “more disadvantageous than Slavery itself” as claimed by Sarah Chapone, the author of the 1735 book, The hardships of the English laws in relation to wives (4).

CHAPTER 3: WOLLSTONECRAFT’S COVERED MARIA

After considering the law of coverture and its implications, it is important to note the approach scholars take when discussing Maria. With the exception of Kristin Kalsem, few scholars have directly commented on the representation of the law of coverture in Maria. Fern Pullan, for example, concentrates on Maria’s position as her husband’s property (without naming coverture), concluding that as long as married women are property of their husbands, they will never be able to maintain control of their property—including their own minds and bodies. Other scholars turn to financial laws and their constricting presence in the novel. Anne Mellor asserts that Maria exposes the limited opportunity and space women had to become financially independent, claiming the scarce employment available for women is what Wollstonecraft believes to be a “great source of the suffering of her countrywomen” (Mellor 414). Catriona Mackenzie states that a major theme of Wollstonecraft’s work is “that women will not be able to attain self-governance without a certain degree of material—particularly financial—independence” (47). Likewise, for Mona Scheuermann, the main issue in Maria is money and how it is available to women. She claims that by losing all control of the property and monies after they are married, women do not have the means by which they can autonomously control their own lives—the law does not make it possible. These scholars have talked about issues women face because of different circumstances which stem from coverture, but they do not focus on the representation of coverture in the novel. Rather, they are talking about the lack of financial opportunity and independence as well as a “property status.” As valuable as it is to discuss these issues, those scholars do not focus on coverture’s contributing relationship to those issues. In contrast, Kalsem emphasizes how the Gothic genre 21 21 of the novel accurately depicts the ramifications of coverture and concludes that Wollstonecraft ultimately puts the law of coverture on trial. Such prosecution of coverture was justified and overdue. Kalsem directly addresses coverture and Wollstonecraft’s criticism of it, but she as well as the other scholars miss a crucial point: through her criticism of the law, Wollstonecraft magnifies the damaging effects of the law which include a denial of financial independence, loss of legal identity, and most importantly, a significant loss of voice. Wollstonecraft understood the role coverture played in hindering the expression of women’s voices and magnifies that role through the multiple instances of silenced women in her novel. Susan Sniader Lanser and Rhonda Batchelor have both recognized and commented on this rhetorical move, addressing how voice functions in Maria, dissecting its position in the private and public sphere. Lanser focuses on the unsustainability of the “communal voice” as defined by Simone de Beauvoir, and Batchelor spends more time on the vocalization of the authentic female self in both public and private spaces. Lanser and Batchelor agree that while Maria is afforded a voice in the private sector, she is adamantly denied one in the public space. Kalsem explains that women were denied a voice in public because, through the law of coverture, they were granted neither legal authority nor legal opportunity to speak. Even though Kalsem points to the law of coverture as the culprit behind the silencing of women, the focus of her study is how Maria performs a feminist jurisprudence and aside from the trial scene, she does not discuss specific instances of coverture in the novel. The silencing of Maria’s voice at the trial is indicative of the legal laws surrounding coverture and is a clear and obvious consequence of the law. However, the legal silencing of women in a court of law is not the only occurrence of women’s muted voices—we see it 22 22 through their financial dependence and property status. By looking at the instances in which women’s voices are stifled (through financial dependence and in private spaces), I will demonstrate that Wollstonecraft’s representation of voice and coverture in the novel suggests that as long as she is married, a wife’s voice will remain silenced; marriage, because of the law of coverture, will never afford women the freedom necessary to live and speak autonomously. I oppose Lanser and Batchelor’s assertion that Maria was granted a voice in the private sphere. Although there are instances in which Maria does find opportunity to express her voice, those instances are complex and do not last. More importantly, she is repeatedly silenced by her husband within the walls of her own home. Wollstonecraft’s illustration of the wrongs of woman, brings to society’s attention a law which needed to be challenged and changed. It is crucial to point out that I am not saying that the law literally silenced women in all aspects of their lives. To say that the law silenced women is incorrect, for clearly women spoke, as evident through Mary Wollstonecraft’s novel, Maria, (a representation of Wollstonecraft’s voice and an acceptable form of women’s expression and employment) which was read in the late 1790’s and which we are still reading over 200 years later. There is power in the telling of a story, even it if doesn’t happen through an audible voice. Wollstonecraft’s novel reflects this, which Batchelor and Lanser have discussed. Batchelor asserts that although Maria’s voice is confined to the private space, the mere telling of Maria’s story, regardless of how muted or distorted it was, was in and of itself a success, which ultimately will lead to further feminist victories. Lanser argues that even though Maria’s voice is silenced in the courtroom, her authoritative narrator voice is still expressed. The authorial narrator’s voice, she says is “the only public voice in the novel” (235). These scholars are both arguing that, through narration, Maria 23 23 is granted the voice she is denied in her story. Yet, neither Lanser nor Batchelor mention what is most problematic about the voice: we only hear it because either women navigated around the laws or the patriarchal society permitted the voice to be heard. This phenomenon occurs both within the novel, and to Wollstonecraft herself. For example, we cannot ignore the literal covering of Wollstonecraft’s novel by her husband William Godwin. He published her work posthumously and has inserted his voice throughout the entirety of the novel. He does this under the guise that he is clarifying information and helping the reader to understand Wollstonecraft’s intentions. Nonetheless, his interruptions are not allowing Wollstonecraft’s words to speak for themselves; they are muting and distorting her voice and demonstrating a symbolic manifestation of coverture. Furthermore, he is the power behind the publication of her words. We only have Maria because Godwin had the means to publish it and permitted it to be heard. Turning back to the novel itself, as we explore the manner in which Wollstonecraft exposes the damaging effects of coverture, we see her contrasting the rights and powers of femes sole and femes covert. Through this contrast, we further see the status of a married woman lowered below that of her single counterparts. Although my concentration on the contrast of feme covert and feme sole concludes that femes sole possessed more power than their married friends, I am not saying that power equated to an easy and joyful life. Certainly, as we can see with Jemima’s history, that is not the case. Mona Scheuermann accurately addresses how Jemima was also a victim of societal restrictions, and I do not dismiss nor disagree with her claim. All women suffered during this time because of the limited opportunities available for women, especially economic opportunities as Scheuermann poignantly identifies. What makes femes sole’s 24 24 situation different is the greater opportunity they have to control any finances they are able to secure. That Jemima suffered, there is no doubt. The mistreatment she received from both males and females is inexcusable. But, there is a way out for Jemima. She lived amongst the lowest in society and participated in vile acts, yet she eventually found employment in the madhouse and became powerful enough to help Maria escape the prison—an act, that had Jemima been married, would have been impossible to accomplish. The first contrast between femes sole and femes covert I will address is financial dependency. In most any age and state, financial freedom is closely linked to power and independence for both femes sole and femes covert. The access one has to disposable income often determines the ease with which they can demonstrate autonomy in their life. In discussing Maria, Scheuermann points out that without money, women are “powerless to direct the course of their lives” (319). Although being denied access to money certainly affects women’s ability to control their own lives, what Scheuermann (as well as Mellor and Mackenzie) fail to discuss is the effect financial dependency had on women’s voices. These critics are looking at money and how it relates to a woman’s autonomy. While their perspective is engaging and enlightening, what they are missing is how money, because of the law of coverture, affects not only a woman’s autonomy but also, most significantly, her voice. Coverture’s limitation of women’s financial power was something of interest to Wollstonecraft, yet, the effect it had on a woman’s voice has been neglected by scholars. Wollstonecraft highlights several femes covert who, through financial dependency, are silenced because of coverture. One such woman was a landlady who provided Maria with safety for a short time when she was hiding from her husband. While living with her, Maria learned that the landlady worked hours 25 25 upon hours to save her money only to have her husband spend everything she saved and more. She survived his first "robbery” and lifted herself out of poverty to again save money for herself and her children. When her husband took her money a second time, she is reduced to beggary. Scheuermann calls this woman defeated, claiming the husband “nullified” all her attempts and she is powerless to change the course of her life. In spite of this, I do not see her as powerless, nor completely defeated. Although she is reduced to beggary, her life is not over. She tells Maria that she has returned to her “old occupation; but have not yet been able to get my head above water” (112). At the moment, when she is speaking with Maria, she is still struggling, but her statement, “have not yet” is telling. If she had said, “will not be able to get my head above water,” or “my head is not above water” we can assume that she is defeated; there is no hope for her. However, she uses the phrase, “have not yet” which implies that she will in the future; it is just a matter of time. Her husband did not render her powerless—because a powerless woman would not have been able to secure the money she had and have been able to work toward securing more. That his actions influenced her voice, it certainly did. She was forced to silently suffer the wrongs committed to her by her husband because under coverture he legally could do all he did. Even though I disagree that this woman is “defeated,” I agree with Scheuermann that the landlady is a demonstration of women’s financial dependency; moreover, while the fact that her husband financially robbed his wife is horrifying in its own light, what Scheuermann neglects to mention is the vanquishing of the wife’s voice by the law. She was forced to silently suffer the wrongs committed to her by her husband because, under coverture, he legally could do all he did. When she endeavored to speak publicly to the pawnbroker in an attempt to recover her personal items, she was told, “It was all as one, [her] 26 26 husband had a right to whatever [she] had” (111). In the public realm, her voice was muted, it did not matter what her husband morally or immorally did, nor how she defended herself. The public space is not the only place in which a wife’s voice is muted by financial dependency; it is also silenced in private. This is illustrated in the novel with the five thousand pounds George received upon marrying Maria. When Maria learns of the five thousand pounds, she requests that he give her sisters one thousand pounds each. He proceeds to give her a kiss and questions whether she had lost her senses, treating her as a child who did not understand what she was suggesting. She becomes startled and “expostulated” to which her husband sneered, and Maria comments, “the demon of discord entered our paradise” (75). Her expostulation demonstrates that she wasn’t a timid child. She certainly was not afraid to speak; but, speaking up had consequences. Notice that it wasn’t her request to give her sisters money which incited his sneer, he simply gave her a kiss when she asked. It was her expostulation which caused the discord. This action suggests that a wife’s voice, when it demonstrates self-governance, disagrees with, or challenges her husband, will be met with dissonance. Hence, the voice she utters must follow certain guidelines (agree with her husband) in order to be tolerated. Unfortunately, because her husband legally had the final say in their finances, her voice was not able to penetrate beyond the walls of their home. According to the law, she did not have a place where she could speak or express her desire for generosity. She could only talk to her husband who, in the private sphere, quickly silenced her. That a wife is denied an audible and rhetorical voice, in regard to financial matters in both public and privates spaces, illustrates the horrific circumstance married women found themselves which Wollstonecraft critically and accurately portrayed. 27 27

The injustice femes covert faced is sharply contrasted when exploring Maria’s experience as feme sole. As an unmarried woman, even though she lived in a tyrannical home, she demonstrates independent thinking and most importantly a rhetorical voice. We see this manifested when she decides to help Peggy. After learning about Peggy’s dire circumstances, she first gifted her own mattress and blanket to Peggy, then spoke to the attorney overseeing Peggy’s case. Maria states that “his character did not intimidate [her]” (67). She fearlessly and boldly spoke to him about Peggy’s case and after listening to Maria’s plea, he agrees to allow Peggy to stay in her home. The point I am making with this example is that she first independently decided to speak to the attorney and was able to do so. It wasn’t until the attorney listened to what Maria said that he granted Peggy mercy. Maria thus had power in a legal, public space. Consequently, rehearsing Peggy’s circumstance at dinner (a private space) not only influenced Miss Venables to donate money, but George himself gives her a guinea (Maria 68-69). Upon the reception of this money, she was free to do with it as she saw fit. Her status as a feme sole ensured first the opportunity to sound her voice, and second the right to distribute the money in a manner she deemed appropriate. Her audible and rhetorical voice successfully functions in both private and public spaces—a situation drastically different from what she experienced as a married woman. Readers witness Maria experience the financial rights of feme sole and oppression of feme covert. It is through this sharp contrast that Wollstonecraft slyly attacks the institution of marriage as it was legally practiced. One could argue that George’s gesture of money was a calculated attempt to win Maria over and an example of his Machiavellianism. While there is no doubt George’s actions were all motivated by his greed, he still heard her voice and gave her money. Had they been married, there would have been no need to 28 28 respond to her voice. Although his actions were motivated by evil, by his listening to her, both her rhetorical and audible voice was manifested and acknowledged. It is not only in the demonstration of financial dependence that we see coverture silence femes covert. Wollstonecraft’s criticism of coverture becomes increasingly powerful as she explores beyond the financial aspect of coverture. Under coverture, a feme covert essentially becomes her husband’s property because a husband often felt that he had rights to his wife in the same manner he had rights to his moveable property. Fern Pullan argues that Maria, when married to Mr. Venables, becomes his property. As the property of Mr. Venables, Pullan believes Maria loses autonomous control over her own mind, body and actions, and is to be used in any way her husband deems appropriate. She emphasizes that this is an issue of ownership, and submits Wollstonecraft is more concerned with ownership than property. Pullan suggests, that because of coverture, Maria surrenders both her person and property to her husband, becoming a “thing to be owned and used as her proprietor sees fit” (Pullan 498). Yet, Pullan does not address Maria’s defiance of George’s efforts to sell her into prostitution. After Maria realizes her husband’s intention to sell her, she declares, “as solemnly as I took [George’s] name, I now abjure it” (95). This is clearly an example of a vocal expression of self-governance in the private sphere. She boldly announces her intent to divorce and escapes his house. If she had surrendered herself as Pullan suggests, she wouldn’t have first had the inclination to leave George, and second, the determination to actually do it. In this instance, we see Wollstonecraft striving to give Maria not only a voice, but also strength behind that voice. That she is successful, yes, Maria does leave her husband and efficaciously hides from him for a time; but that success does not last. Herein lies the problem: although Wollstonecraft gave Maria ability to be defiant and exercise an autonomous move, 29 29 that move is not sustained; coverture overpowered married women’s attempts for freedom. Just as a woman’s voice was silenced with financial matters, it did not have power with legal marriage matters. Regardless of how powerful an individual was, Wollstonecraft did not see it as “enough.” The law would always have more power, and hence the necessity to comment on the law. The ease with which George chases after and finds Maria points back to coverture; the rights she lacked and her legal status are a result of coverture. When women are made into property, they are denied a platform from which to sound their voice. This is clearly seen with what happens after Maria runs away and George hunts her down in order to regain control1 of both her person and her uncle’s money. He publishes a public announcement declaring “Maria Venables had, without any assignable cause, absconded from her husband; and any person harbouring her, was menaced with the utmost severity of the law” (105). His “ownership” of her, through marriage, enabled him to publish an ad in the newspaper as if she were stolen or missing property. George had “rights” to Maria (her person) and her moveable goods, but Maria did not own any “rights” to herself. Those “rights” allowed George to perform the ultimate silencing of her voice when he locks her in a madhouse. In that prison, Maria, a perfectly sane woman, is denied visitors and communication in the public sphere. She is left to speak with Jemima, her caretaker, and eventually Darnford, a fellow prisoner. Money was the motive, and the law of coverture was the power behind Maria’s

1 We cannot overlook the similarities to actual events which happened during Wollstonecraft’s time. Elizabeth Foyster’s essay discusses cases brought before the King’s Bench which addressed abuse and confinement a wife suffered at the hands of her husband. Of the many cases Foyster cites, one in particular is relevant to this circumstance in the novel. It is the case of the Bowes family, who in 1786 the wife, Mary Elanore Bowes, tried to divorce her husband. He proceeded to seize her and hold her again her will in order to force her to call off the divorce.

30 30 imprisonment. A. A. Markley argues that “Maria’s imprisonment serves as a perfect metaphor for the vulnerability of women to the men who hold power over them. . . the ease with which Venables has Maria proclaimed mad and imprisoned signifies the helplessness of a married woman as the legal property of her husband” (61-62). Markley is saying that because Maria belonged to her husband, he could legally commit her to the madhouse and she was powerless to stop it, voiceless to oppose it. She was legally incapable of contending with him, prohibited from publicly speaking out against him. Markley is accurate in calling her imprisonment a metaphor, yes women were symbolically imprisoned; but, in this instance, we must recognize that it serves both purposes: a metaphor as well as legal actuality. It is crucial to understand that Maria’s legal persona is directly tied to her marriage and to recognize that single women do not share the same legal persona as their married counterparts. As demonstrated in the previous chapter, legally, feme coverts possessed more responsibility, legal identity, and voice. Markley does not address the disproportion of legal status between feme sole and femme covert. As feme covert, Maria did not have a legal identity. In contrast, femes sole absolutely had a legal and public presence. Wollstonecraft shows us a woman who lost all aspects of her rhetorical voice in both private and public sphere because of marriage. In order to fully appreciate the voice that was stifled in marriage, we need to see the voice as it was before marriage. We are introduced to Maria’s voice when, as a young child, she gains favor in her uncle’s sight, pleasing him with her “prattle” (62). This choice of noun is significant, in that although the words she spoke were inconsequential, her uncle still found value in her voice. Essentially, she is not restricted in what she says. It is her rambling and foolish talking which influences the attachment 31 31 her uncle felt with her and he “endavour[ed] to enlarge and strengthen [her] mind” (62). He brought her books, which in addition to conversations, helped her to form “an ideal picture of life” (62)2. Her “prattle” enabled her to obtain an education, which influenced how she viewed the world and what she expected from it. As feme sole, her voice was a means of power for her, which was taken from her in marriage. During the early days of their marriage, after returning home from “the theatre, or any amusing party” she would talk to her husband about what she had experienced. However, as a married woman, her expressions were met with disdain, and “sullen taciturnity” resulting in her husband literally silencing her (77). She very quickly lost her audible as well as rhetorical voice in marriage. By demonstrating Maria’s voice as feme sole and contrasting that with feme covert, Wollstonecraft highlights the heightened problems of silencing which occurs in marriage. The financial and propertied status of women has an obvious, direct connection to coverture. The general silencing of a wife’s voice, although not a direct aspect of a specific part of the law of coverture, is still a consequence of the law. When a women’s voice is taken away in terms of financial and personal property (including one’s self), husbands assume too much power. What is left for the wife to own? In her husband’s eyes, if the law deems her opinions about money and her personal self insignificant, she has little value in other areas.

2 We are not explicitly told what that ideal picture looked like. We know that her uncle was romantically jaded, and “endeavor[ed] to prove to [her] that nothing which deserved the name of love or friendship existed in the world” (62). By relating his own disappointments in an attempt to shield her from expecting a romantic life, the opposite in fact happened. Those disappointments “imprinted” on her heart and “animated” her imaginations and Maria reveals that they explain the “peculiarities in [her] character, which by the world are indefinitely termed romantic” (62). 32 32

In spite of these challenges, women still sought for ways to make their voices heard. Usually they were successful when they either navigated around laws or received permission from men. We see Maria doing this very thing throughout the novel. Maria’s relationship with Darnford begins with the written word. Even though she was audibly silenced, she used writing as a way to first, interact with Darnford and, second, tell her story. Her initial written contact with Darnford came by means of scribbling notes in the margins of books. She had written “a few exclamations, expressive of compassion and sympathy,” which influenced Darnford to write to her on a separate piece of paper (24). Jemima agreed to allow Maria to write a reply and a pen-pal relationship was born. This written relationship progressed to meetings in person and an ultimate declaration of devotion. Through this example, we see Maria initially denied an avenue through which she could use her audible voice. Determined not to be silenced, she negotiated first around the published words in a book, then used “pressing intreaties” to convince Jemima to facilitate the pen-pal relationship (24). That she was able to find a platform from which to sound her voice is a victory. However, this victory only occurred because she initially navigated around law and then was given permission to do so by Jemima, showing that Maria was incapable of empowering her own voice. Although Maria’s written word was successful in the private community of the asylum, she does not find success in public. After the case of seduction is brought against Darnford, she determines to speak in his defense. In this instance, she doesn’t try to use her audible voice; rather she writes a letter which is read in court. To understand the significance of this written letter, we must first understand the laws and practices surrounding cases of seduction and adultery. Adam Komisaruk’s intriguing article, “The Privatization of Pleasure: ‘Crim. Con.’ 33 33

In Wollstonecraft’s Maria,” discusses civil trials for adultery, commonly known as “criminal conversation” or crim con (for example the case which George brings against Darnford). Komisaruk’s explanation and detailed description of crim con. is noteworthy: The procedure of crim. con. trials was fairly consistent. The marriage was established; the plaintiff introduced evidence of the affair; the defense pleased mitigating circumstances, such as an unhappy or coerced marriage, or the infidelity of the husband himself. Witnesses for both sides included acquaintances, family members, and most often lower-class servants—coachmen, chamber-maids, grooms, wet-nurses, etc.—who had access to the parties’ most intimate moments. The parties themselves were forbidden to testify. . . Divorce, custody, or crim. con. actions favor the already-propertied husbands, although spousal desertion financially hurts the wives more. Moreover, it is unheard of for a wife to file a crim. con. suit against her husband’s seductress. (37- 41) Komisaruk clearly establishes that crim com. was designed to benefit husbands. Women not being able to bring cases of crim com. against their adulterous husbands is a manifestation of the lack of public voice married women possessed. Most importantly, it demonstrates that Maria was “forbidden to testify.” In an attempt to circumvent the law, she wrote a letter to be read in court by a man. Additionally, although she wrote the letter, a man had power to decide whether or not it was heard. Lanser points us to the detail that after Maria’s letter is read, the Judge, (a man) has the final say in the court as well as the novel. It is here, she claims the “novel reaches an impasse of both voice and plot; having 34 34

‘gone public’ with woman’s wrongs, neither Maria nor Wollstonecraft can recover Maria’s. . . rights” (234-235). While Lanser’s assertion that Maria’s rights are unrecoverable is correct, what she doesn’t discuss is the following reason for the impasse: up to this point Maria has followed the guidance of the patriarchal society. Her voice is freely spoken only in the community she forms in the asylum—absent of patriarchal law. In the public space, she is again subject to law and guidelines and men decided whether or not she will be heard. Further, we must recognize Wollstonecraft’s use of the written word to tell women’s stories. By writing in the novel form, Wollstonecraft is able to reach women who may not have read her political essay. Mary Poovey argues that Wollstonecraft “sought to popularize the insights of The Rights of Woman by turning to a genre she felt confident women would read” (95). What this means is that in order to speak to women, Wollstonecraft needed to use a medium they would understand, be inclined to read, and be permitted to read. Kalsem agrees that the novel’s “accessibility to and its popularity with women” made it the ideal platform from which Wollstonecraft could speak (18). Wollstonecraft wanted to speak to women and chose a medium which society approved. In doing this, she is similar to her heroine, Maria. Wollstonecraft navigated around societal customs and expectations in an attempt to influence women and speak her voice, just as Maria navigates around the written words in a published book to converse with Darnford. Wollstonecraft tried to find environments where women can independently speak. It is in the asylum where Maria is ultimately able to tell her story because Wollstonecraft creates a community which is sympathetic to women’s voices. The community is small, consisting of Jemima, Darnford, and Maria but, a community nevertheless. Batchelor discusses this community claiming that the friendship of 35 35 the women is forged by their “common feminine experiences” (351). She argues, they “revise” themselves into beings who speak for their own desires; they become authentic female versions of themselves and create “true community” (352). What I find interesting about this new community is Maria’s ability to participate and speak. Not only is she able to speak freely, but she also does so secretly. In fact, Maria shares her story with Jemima before it is shared with the readers. We are not privy to the conversations Maria had with Jemima, instead we are told that they spoke, and that Jemima would “sit every moment she could steal from observation, listening to the tale, which Maria was eager to relate” (11). Jemima gains compassion for Maria through these conversations and brings Maria books and writing tools, which become the means by which Maria is given a voice (with Darnford and with the reader). It was also through these conversations that Jemima “determined to alleviate all in her power, without hazarding the loss of her place, the sufferings of a wretched mother” (12). Jemima, because of her conversation with Maria, was determined to do what she could to help Maria— while staying within the parameters of the patriarchal society. Although her attempts to assist Maria are beneficial, they are limited and dictated by the confines of the patriarchal society. In this limitation, she is not given the opportunity to be totally free. It isn’t until Jemima rebels completely against that society and abandons her post that she is able to help Maria escape. Of most importance is that in this new community marriage does not exist; the law of coverture is not empowered. Even though Henry Darnford joins the community as Maria’s lover, they are not married; therefore, the law of coverture does not apply to their relationship. He is imprisoned, similar to how women are enslaved, which allows him to be on an equal plane with Maria. In his imprisonment, he is powerless to offer any support to Maria. He cannot help her 36 36 escape, he cannot influence her living or financial situation. In fact, he bemoans that he cannot offer her any protection, saying, “the privilege of man is denied me” (24). His statement reflects the paternalistic attitude many men had toward coverture. As a husband, it was a privilege they enjoyed. This privilege entailed controlling their wives under the guise of protecting them. As a prisoner, Darnford has neither the ability nor means to offer any type of assistance to Maria—he is her equal. Consequently, any conversation Maria has with Darnford is not considered the same as if she were conversing with her husband. Furthermore, after Maria declares that she considers Darnford her husband, they escape the madhouse and Darnford returns to Paris—leaving the community Maria and Jemima formed and changing the dynamic of his relationship with Maria. This implies that a community in which women can justly and freely participate will not function within the presence of marriage. It is crucial to understand that once Maria claimed marriage with Darnford, the community is dismantled. Marriage is the executioner of the harmonious community. Wollstonecraft struggles to recapture the harmonious community as evident in the different endings of the novel. Although unfinished, she left several notes which indicate possible endings. Of all those possibilities, none of them include Maria and Darnford living together as a happy married couple. Three of the endings suggest Darnford was unfaithful, two indicate a miscarriage and one simply says, “Pregnancy—Miscarriage—Suicide” (136). The most detailed and fully written ending tells of Maria attempting suicide only to be revived by Jemima with news of Maria’s daughter being alive. Maria fights to survive and says, “I will live for my child!” (137). Mellor states that the various endings assume that “heterosexual relationships do not work, that British marriages are a prison” (420). I argue that it is not that “heterosexual relationships do not work”; 37 37 rather, a more correct statement would be heterosexual marital relationships under coverture do not work for women desiring voice and autonomy. The relationship between Maria and Darnford in the asylum, a heterosexual relationship, does work. This anti-marital sentiment is expressed in Maria’s letter to her daughter. Not only does she suggest the preference to avoid marriage, but a persuading to do so.3 In the letter, Maria explains that she was unhappy at home, and naïvely believed a marriage to George Venables would offer her freedom. In hindsight, she expresses disgust with her husband’s true character. She comments that had she known he received five thousand pounds from her marriage she would have insisted her sisters be granted a thousand pounds each, which she now knows George would have contested. Then, she states, she would have “seen his selfish soul; and. . . have been spared the misery of discovering, when too late, that [she] was united to a heartless, unprincipled wretch” (73). There are a couple noteworthy things about this passage. First, she was more focused on obtaining freedom from her father and brother, she did not stop to think that perhaps she was going from one miserable situation to another, much worse situation. Second, she states that she would have seen his selfishness and been spared the misery of having to even discover his heartlessness which indicates that she felt, and believed, she would have been able to deny his marriage proposal—an

3 The fact that Wollstonecraft has Maria expresses such anti-marriage sentiment but proceeds with declaring marriage to Darnford is perplexing and mirrors the struggle Wollstonecraft had with reason and sensibility. Further research is merited to find critics who discuss Wollstonecraft’s personal and public battle with marriage. My thesis argues that within Maria, because of the loss of voice, Wollstonecraft is clearly advocating for a feminine realm, and my intent is to look closely at the novel and focus on what is happening within the novel. A broader study would encompass a look at Wollstonecraft’s personal life, i.e. her marriage with Godwin, separate living arrangements, marriage after she become pregnant with her daughter, as well as her writings about marriage in Vindication. It is through a study of those things one will be able to trace out Wollstonecraft’s struggle, and come to a richer understanding of all her work, not just her novel, Maria. The scope of my thesis does not permit such a study; however, it is worth noting. 38 38 autonomous move. Even though she was living with a tyrannical father and brother, Maria believed, and still thought upon reflection, that she would have had power to turn down George’s proposal. What we see here, and what this proves is that Maria’s life as feme sole, even with a tyrannical father, is preferable to that of feme covert. Loveless marriages are not the only ones which Wollstonecraft critiques in her novel. All marriages are subject to the law, therefore the marriages illustrated in the novel reveal that regardless of love and affection, marriage means oppression for women. Maria’s father “very benevolently married for love; but took care to remind [his wife] of the obligation when she dared, in the slightest instance, to question his absolute authority” (59). Her mother endured and submitted to the austere nature of her husband because it was her “obligation.” It was expected that wives did this, and as his wife, she was not given rights to question nor to act against his will. What is more, Peggy who married for love, did not enjoy happiness. Her husband, with whom we assume she had a good relationship, was killed and she returned to the country with her two small children and attempted to provide for them. The life she lived was one of suffering. The absence of happy, equally powerful marriages suggest that Wollstonecraft saw something inherently wrong with the institution of marriage as it was practiced in eighteenth century England. Understanding the law of coverture which surrounded marriages explains the discord and wrongs women suffered. Finding the implications of the law so clearly illustrated throughout Maria indicates not only Wollstonecraft’s awareness of the law, but also her disdain for it. A woman’s financial freedom and autonomy swallowed up by her husband in marriage leads to the silencing of her voice—the most probable outcome for married women. 39 39

Critics such as Kalsem and Lanser claim that Wollstonecraft struggled with trying to speak to women about the problems marriage creates. Kalsem argues that Maria exemplifies how Wollstonecraft was struggling to “speak effectively to women about a topic that. . . was unspeakable” (23). Lanser echoes Kalsem, maintaining that the different conflicting endings within the novel signified the struggle Wollstonecraft had with constructing “a narrative of female community and to authorize a female voice that would speak not simply for herself, but. . . for all women” (231). Although this is certainly something that Wollstonecraft struggled against, what she was more clearly wrestling with was giving her heroine autonomy and voice independent of patriarchal influences. How can a feme covert access autonomy and speak her voice on her own terms and in her own way? The society in which Wollstonecraft lived did not afford such opportunities. Those circumstances have to be created by women for women, like the community Maria and Jemima formed in the asylum. What Wollstonecraft grappled with was bringing that community into the public space and finding a way in which it could thrive. She certainly comes close: with the possible ending where Jemima saves Maria from suicide and convinces her to live for her daughter. We assume these women resort back to the community they had created. Regrettably, this community is successful only in the private realm. If it ever needed or wanted to interact with the dominant society, it would be quickly conquered and dismantled. How this community could function within the patriarchal society is never resolved, because being able to break from patriarchal societal laws and traditions is a complex and challenging move; which, women are still trying to figure out today.

CHAPTER 4: AUSTEN’S SILENCED ANNE

Jane Austen’s Persuasion attempts to provide the answer Wollstonecraft failed to find. Yet, that answer which initially appears ideal, places too much power in men and ends up being flawed. In her final published novel, Austen writes to influence reform in her society to be sympathetic to and supportive of women’s voices and autonomy. Anne Elliott’s transformation through a bildungsroman plot, although a representation of her growth as a character, also symbolically represents the journey Austen suggests silenced married women make in order to break free from coverture. Furthermore, through her use of the marriage plot, Austen presents matrimony as a highly valued prize, a source for financial security and companionship—a situation both to aspire to and seek after. In Persuasion, we see Anne (although a feme sole) frequently silenced but then transformed into a confident, autonomous woman who decides to accept and embrace marriage. Ironically, it is only after Anne breaks free from oppressive silence and finds strength in her voice and character, that she wholeheartedly agrees to enter into marriage and legally become subject to coverture. The reader might wonder why a woman who gains her independence would willingly place herself in a legal situation which voids both her legal identity and voice.4 Through a deeper study of the married women in the novel we see a representation of marriage existing within the legal law of coverture, but dramatically different from the one presented in Wollstonecraft’s novel.

4 One could argue that the social prestige that comes with the title “Mrs.” outweighed the effects of coverture and was a welcome escape from spinsterhood. And while this may have applied to many women, it did not to Anne. She had the opportunity to marry Charles Musgrove, but declined; spinsterhood, although not ideal, did not frighten her. 41 41

Austen’s representation of married women supports the argument that wives’ autonomy and voice (audible and rhetorical) must be maintained during marriage. Therefore, instead of mourning the subjection to the law through marriage, the readers have hope for Anne to preserve her newfound autonomy. The relationships Austen illustrates projects women in vocal, powerful positions and suggest that marriage for Anne will not equate to the same type of oppression Maria received in Wollstonecraft’s novel. In fact, Jeannie Sargent Judge believes that in Persuasion, Austen rallies for a more equal partnership in marriage and William Magee mentions the importance of Wentworth seeing Anne’s value prior to marriage. These critics also agree that Austen uses Persuasion to suggest a new type of marriage, one where in spite of the law, women stand on equal ground with their husbands. On the surface, Persuasion presents a much kinder and more liberating representation of marriage Austen’s readers could be able to experience—a look at the Crofts, Harvilles, and even Sir and Lady Elliot will speak to this. Even though these women are married and subject to coverture, the ramifications of that law do not enter into their relationships. But, in the absence of enforced coverture, women’s power as equal agents is never fully realized. When considering why coverture isn’t empowered, though, we must take a closer look at the husbands. With this inspection, we find women who are allowed to be strong when the men are weak and needy, leading one to question the true strength the women possessed. Would wives be as strong, would they have as powerful a voice if their husbands were not physically, mentally, or emotionally weak? Austen’s novel does not fully answer this question and we are left to wonder, just as we were in Wollstonecraft’s novel, how women can maintain autonomy and voice while living within a patriarchal society. 42 42

This chapter will look at two things: first, the reversal of coverture’s effect on the feme covert and feme sole as represented through Anne and her journey to overcome that silencing, and second, the weakness of the men in Austen’s novel. A closer look and analysis of these two things reveals not just a subversive response to the institution of marriage, but also a radical suggestion for how women can achieve a sense of equality in marriage. Austen’s response to Wollstonecraft’s struggle with equality in marriage is for women to be stronger than the men they marry and use that strength to manipulate the legal authority their husbands possess. A problem occurs when the women are successfully stronger because the men are weak, needy, or absent. This is a problem because women’s successful expression of strength is dependent on men’s. Some might argue that Wentworth and Anne’s relationship is the exception, that theirs is one of equal partnership, but I will show this is not the case. The voice Anne expresses in that relationship is given power by Wentworth’s weakness and the profession which will turn him into an absent husband. In Persuasion, Anne (though a feme sole), is introduced as a woman without a voice. When Anne first falls in love with Wentworth, she did not have the strength of character to express her desire for marriage in the face of opposition. She was easily persuaded to mimic Lady Russell’s voice and gave a “final parting” to Wentworth (23). In this instance, she does not use her rhetorical voice. Saying a “final” goodbye to Wentworth was something she did not want to do; in fact, the parting caused Anne to suffer, “her attachment and regret had, for a long time, clouded every enjoyment of youth, and an early loss of bloom and spirits had been their lasting effect” (23). Her inability to use her own rhetorical voice caused both physical and psychological damage; when she sequesters her 43 43 voice in order to mimic that of another, she suffers. Austen uses Anne’s experience as a cautionary tale: suffering will inevitably follow silenced voices. Unfortunately, this is not the only time Anne uses her audible voice to speak the thoughts and ideas of others. While she is at Uppercross, she acts as a go-between with Mary and Charles. Unwilling to speak their own thoughts to each other, they constantly pressure Anne to be that voice: she was continually requested . . . ‘I wish you could persuade Mary not to be always fancying herself ill,’ was Charles’s language; and, in an unhappy mood, thus spoke Mary: ‘I do believe if Charles were to see me dying he would not think there was anything the matter with me. I am sure, Anne, if you would, you might persuade him that I really am very ill—a great deal worse than I ever own.’ (Austen 35) Charles persuades Anne to relay to Mary things he did not want to tell her himself, and Mary asked Anne to speak to Charles on her behalf. This experience was the “least agreeable circumstance” (35) for Anne, and she found she “could do little more than listen patiently, soften every grievance. . . give them all hints of the forbearance necessary. . . and make those hints broadest which were meant for her sister’s benefit” (37). In these situations, Anne did not enjoy nor want to be a part of their conversations, yet, she still fulfilled their requests, doing her best to help her sister. Her inability to speak her own mind and incapability to refuse their constant requests demonstrates a symbolic representation of women who are vocally trapped in coverture. As she fulfills their demands, she is denying herself her own voice and allowing it to be overtaken by those around her; the audible voice she expresses is a rhetorical voice for others’ benefit. When she “make[s] those hints broadest which were meant for her sister’s benefit” she is exhibiting a 44 44 quiet resistance but not a bold rebellion against her situation. This quiet resistance is symbolically similar to those women who tried to navigate around coverture by setting up secret or semi-secret financial networks. Those women, like Anne, did not audaciously protest coverture, rather they secretly and quietly tried to find ways to express or achieve some autonomy. Indeed, with Anne’s experience at Uppercross, we see a symbolic representation of coverture demonstrated by a feme sole who tries to rebel against it. During Anne’s stay at Kellynch and Uppercross, she becomes a silent fixture of the grounds, overpowered by those around her and cornered into domestic roles. Her value is limited to what she does in the home, much like wives whose marriages confines them to domesticity. It is during her time as a caretaker to her sister and nurse to her nephew that we see another significant symbolic representation of coverture. While she is taking care of her injured nephew Charles, his brother Walter climbs on her back and refuses to get off. She attempts to shake him off but fails. At which point Anne “ordered, entreated, and insisted in vain” that he loosen his grip and let go, but Walter refused to move (62). She was powerless to remove his covering of her, and her audible and strong rhetorical pleas were ignored. She is ultimately rescued from this entrapment by Wentworth, who effortlessly lifts Walter off her back. This act made Anne “perfectly speechless” and she quickly realized “the noise [Wentworth] was studiously making with the child” intended to allow him to “avoid hearing her thanks, and rather sought to testify that her conversation was the last of his wants” (63). As feme sole, Anne is not legally prone to the ramifications of coverture, yet Austen shows her visibly covered and highlights the incredible amount of power Wentworth held. In this instance, he had the power to free her and to silence her, both things he successful accomplishes. 45 45

Anne starts to break free from coverture when she leaves Uppercross and Kellynch (representation of domestic life) and travels to Lyme. While in Lyme, she begins to find strength, power, and influence with her voice. Upon meeting Captain Benwick, she discovers a depressed man, incapable of positive interaction with society. Wentworth considered Benwick’s “disposition as of the sort which must suffer heavily, uniting very strong feelings with quiet, serious, and retiring manners,” and Anne observed him to have a “melancholy air” (76). She began to talk with him and spoke of literature and recommended books. During these conversations, Benwick had “the appearance of feelings glad to burst their usual restraints” (78). He engaged in discussions with Anne, and soon his demeanor changed, which Captain Harville notices and tells Anne, “you have done a good deed in making that poor fellow talk so much” (84). Benwick then re-engages with society and proposes marriage to Louisa. Anne’s exchange with Benwick is the motivating factor in his change. Further, she does not repeat the thoughts or persuasions of anyone else (like she did in Uppercross) instead, she relies upon her own knowledge and sentiment. Anne’s voice gains additional power when Louisa falls at Cobb. After Louisa falls, Wentworth helplessly calls out, “‘Is there no one to help me?’. . . in a tone of despair, and as if all his own strength were gone” (87). He, a captain in the Navy, who undoubtedly witnessed far more severe tragedies and emergencies, is helpless and powerless to do anything about a young woman’s fall to the ground. I will talk more about his weakness later, what I want to focus on now is Anne’s voice in that instant. She is in the company of three men, yet she is able to voice directions for the others. She sends Captain Benwick to help Wentworth with Louisa, giving him salts and instructs him to rub her temples. The others follow her orders “and everything was done that Anne has prompted” (87). She suggests 46 46 a surgeon, wisely has Captain Benwick run to find one, and determines that Louisa should be moved to the inn. Each of these specific actions were carried out by men. Her commands were followed and her voice was in power. She continues to exercise this newfound autonomy when she arrives in Bath. Charles Musgrove secured a box for a play the same night the family was engaged to visit Lady Dalrymple. As Mary argues with Charles about the conflict of engagements, she begins talking about Anne and says, “we should be losing Miss Anne, too, if there is a party at her father’s” (177). Without asking Anne her preference, Mary speaks for her, saying that Anne would rather be at her father’s party than the play. Instead of silently allowing her sister to speak for her, Anne speaks up saying, “If it depended only on my inclination, ma’am, the party at home (excepting on Mary’s account) would not be the smallest impediment. I have no pleasure in that sort of meeting, and should be too happy to change it for a play, and with you. But, it had better not be attempted” (177). Essentially, Anne agreed with Mary that the play should not interfere with the party; however, Anne took the opportunity to correct Mary’s assumption of her preference. Even though voicing her opinion would not change the outcome of the evening, Anne no longer allowed others to speak for her. She took the opportunity to express her rhetorical voice; a move quite different than the beginning of the novel. It is her rhetorical voice, in a conversation with Captain Harville, that moves Wentworth to write a letter declaring his love. As Anne speaks with Captain Harville, she explains, defends, and validates women—their emotions and actions. She disagrees with the Captain’s assertions and makes a case for women’s longevity in love. In this scene, she freely, unashamedly uses her voice. The Anne Austen gives us at the end of the novel is different than the one we see in the beginning. She went from experiencing the kind of silencing oppression 47 47 femes covert suffer and progressed toward the independence and autonomy that should be enjoyed by femes sole. Once she reaches this point, the novel completes the marriage plot, and Anne accepts Wentworth’s marriage proposal. This move suggests the before women marry, they must obtain a voice. Why would Anne enter into coverture through marriage if she finally was able to express her voice? Because, in Austen’s world, marriage does not always mean the enforcement of coverture and oppression for women. Austen's portrayal of strong older married women in Persuasion not only foreshadows Anne’s future relationship, it shows that marriage need not cover their voice and personality. However, looking at vocal older women in the novel requires us to also look closely at their husbands. These relationships reveal the reason the women can be portrayed as strong is because the men are needy, weak, or absent and incapable of oppressing their wives. Anytime female voice is given power within a patriarchal society, we must question the means by which it was empowered. We need to inquire who or what allows the voice to be heard, and if, in fact, the people in power (men) dictates whether or not it is heard. I will show that in Persuasion, women such as Lady Elliot, Mrs. Croft, and Anne are able to manifest their voice in an empowering way precisely when men are absent or weak. Jane Austen creates the realm Wollstonecraft struggled so hard to construct by modifying the men so that they no longer completely dominate the patriarchal sphere. Whereas Wollstonecraft’s women thrived in a marriage-less realm, Austen’s women are given permission to manifest their voice and strength to the degree the men possess less voice and power. Most scholars agree that Austen criticizes some of the male characters’ behaviors in this novel, but this criticism is more closely linked to their behavior 48 48 as aristocrats, and not toward male gender and patriarchic ideology as a whole. Michael Kramp, Charles Rzepka, and Taylor Walle, for instance, agree that the narcissistic Sir Walter Elliot represents the aristocrat, a class which was highly criticized by Austen, and Stephen Kestner argues that the presence of the naval men in the novel suggests class reform. These critics are concerned about class struggles and the revolution of the working class: they do not address male privilege. Furthermore, Kramp and Walle both look at the men in Persuasion in relation to the idea of what Walle calls a “new kind of masculinity,” (63) and neither scholar believes the men’s roles to be weak. Walle views Wentworth with his instances of blushing as moments of sensibility supported by Austen and a cohesion of both masculinity and sensibility into a preferred new representation of man. Kramp sees Persuasion as presenting a character who challenges the aristocrat class by valuing nautical employment, saying that marriage between Wentworth and Anne is a “reaction to and revolution against the antiquated world of England’s ancestral culture” (125). Notably, neither Kramp, Kestner, nor Walle address the strength the women manifest in juxtaposition to the men. The men’s weaknesses empower wives to have a stronger presence in their marriage and grants permission to the wives to speak freely; women are able to adapt a more equal and oftentimes superior role in their marriages. This goes beyond the assertion that the men need to see the value in their women, an important aspect Shaffer and Magee mention. It is not just that they need to see the value; rather, men are dependent upon the women for financial, mental, and physical support. Then, when the men are weak, women are able to gain voice and power. One such weak character is Sir Walter Elliot. The representation of Sir Elliot absolutely solidifies Austen’s critique of the aristocrat class and some 49 49

(Kramp, Rzepka, Walle) dissect his flaws in a move to support this criticism. I, however, view his flaws as a means to support the rise of the female class. Notice that Sir Elliot’s ruin did not come until after the death of his wife, “While Lady Elliot lived, there had been method, moderation, and economy, which had just kept him within his income, but with her had died all such right-mindedness” (8). During her life, Lady Elliot had the power to control her husband’s spending. She is the one who appears to be in control of the finances, which is the exact opposite of what the law of coverture prescribes. This demonstrates that marriages can successfully not follow the guidelines of coverture. It points toward a new kind of relationship: marriages which, though are under the common law of coverture, do not in actuality silence the wives. In this relationship we see Lady Elliot as the one who dictated how and where money needed to be spent, and under her stewardship, she maintained a financially responsible home. That Austen presents such a broken man in the absence of his wife, speaks loudly to the power his wife exhibited during their marriage and emphasizes his weakness of character. Sir Elliot’s weakness gave Lady Elliot permission and space to exercise her power. Austen presents a wife who clearly controlled areas of their marriage which coverture dictated the husband should manage, and she cleverly shows us, with the absence of Lady Elliot, what happens when such a wife was not in control. Moreover, Austen gives the readers a negative example of a couple who did follow the law of coverture: Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Like Sir Elliot, Mr. Smith was terribly careless with his money. Yet, unlike Sir Elliot, Mr. Smith confided only in another man, Mr. Elliot, and negated Mrs. Smith’s opinions and influence. Mr. and Mrs. Smith spent money beyond their means, and the reader may question any financial advice Mrs. Smith could have given her husband. Her resourcefulness as a widow, though, demonstrates a woman who could have helped her husband, if 50 50 given the opportunity. However, her husband did not give her permission to intercede and although Mrs. Smith recognized the faulty generosity of her husband, she does not object to it or warn him against it. In this sense, she complied with coverture, did not try to fight against its restraints, and became financially ruined. Her silence during marriage emphasizes the consequences of practiced coverture. Mrs. Smith remains silenced, until, as a widow, she pleads with Anne for help. It is only in the absence of her husband that readers see her speak. When she tells her story, she helps Anne to realize the true character of Mr. Elliott, and reveals, “what no one else could have” (167). The knowledge Mrs. Smith had about Mr. Elliott was privileged and not common; she was the only person who could have educated Anne about Mr. Elliott’s true nature. Mrs. Smith’s power lies both within the knowledge she had and her ability to speak that knowledge. It is crucial to note that she does this in the absence of her husband. It is only when he is gone, and she is a widow, that she was able express her rhetorical voice. Unlike the Smiths, Admiral and Mrs. Croft mirror a relationship which does not follow the expectations of the law of coverture. Theresa Kenney is among the many critics who agree that the Crofts represent a foreshadowing of Anne and Wentworth’s future. In her article, “‘As she was not really Mrs. Croft’: Playing the Admiral’s Wife in Bath,” Kenney focuses on the scene in Bath when Anne walks arm in arm with the Admiral and quite a few people mistake her for Mrs. Croft. According to Kenney, Anne’s assertion of independence and enjoyment she experiences during the walk suggest that Anne “may be choosing here to pursue the Crofts themselves” (52). Basically, Anne sees the relationship the Crofts have, and fully embraces it, just as she embraces Admiral Croft’s arm during the walk. It is crucial that we recognize the argument that Anne 51 51

“embraces” this type of married life, because it shows an autonomous choice she makes. She witnesses their interactions, sometimes with “amusement” (Austen 72), and chooses a life which will be most conducive to such a relationship. She is not coerced into it, she freely chooses it. These interactions, which cause Anne’s amusement, are not the only things that Anne is drawn to. Rzepka makes some convincing points about Admiral and Mrs. Croft in his article, “Making it in a Brave New World: Marriage, Profession and Anti-Romantic Ekstasis in Austen’s Persuasion.” Although his argument is a focus on the occupation of women, and mine on their voices, I wish to touch upon a minor point he makes in his article. He states that Mrs. Croft acts as a mentor to Anne in relationship to the management of money. Rzepka argues that the manner in which Mrs. Croft manages money is similar to the way in which she drives the carriage, “Admiral Croft provides the forward impetus, while Mrs. Croft ‘judiciously’ helps to direct their progress” (Rzepka 106). The “forward impetus” implied by Rzepka is the Admiral’s ability to make money. His occupation is the one which provides the finances; however, it is Mrs. Croft’s judgments which keep them out of financial danger because he permits her to do so. That permission, though, stems from his weakness. Although Rzepka is accurate in using the carriage scene as representation of Mrs. Croft directing her marriage, he misses out on talking about the control Mrs. Croft takes. While riding in the carriage, Admiral and Mrs. Croft are talking (gossiping) about Frederick and his current courting habits. In the middle of this conversation, Mrs. Croft vocally warns the Admiral of a post they are about to hit, and Austen tell us, “But, by coolly giving the reins a better direction herself they happily passed the danger” (italics added 72). First, Mrs. Croft used her voice to warn the Admiral of his misdirection, but without waiting for him act, she took the 52 52 reins and corrected their course herself. She did not just grab the reins in a panicked hurry; rather, she “coolly” gave them a “better direction.” This signifies a calm and mature demeanor and response. I would also like to point out what wasn’t mentioned in this scene. We don’t see the Admiral silencing Mrs. Croft. We don’t see him rebuking her for taking over the reins. In fact, we don’t see him doing anything at all except gossiping about Frederick and his romantic interests. Additionally, Mrs. Croft demonstrates control when they inquire about renting Kellynch. Mr. Shepherd reports about their inquiring into Kellynch to Sir Elliot and states that Mrs. Croft “asked more questions about the house, and terms and taxes, than the Admiral himself, and seemed more conversant with business” (19). In this situation, in this instance, coverture is only found with the name on the lease. Even though Admiral Croft’s name was legally tied to the property, in actually, Mrs. Croft controlled the estate. Admiral Croft’s reliance and dependence on his wife allowed Mrs. Croft to assert power in their relationship. She frequently accompanies him when he is out to sea, and he becomes so used to her presence and influence that he demonstrates issues with being alone. When Anne finds him alone in Bath, she walks with him and he asks her to take his arm, saying, “I do not feel comfortable if I have not a woman there” (134). This simple statement explains much of his character. Whether he had a natural inclination to need a woman nearby or has become so accustomed to having his wife on his arm is of little consequence, because either way he ends up needing a woman on his arm in order to “feel comfortable”. This implies his incapability of being independently alone, and we then question all the times his wife joined him at sea. Was it for her benefit or his? Certainly, one could argue that their relationship represented the mutual need husband and wives had for each other. Yet, other than the one statement Mrs. Croft made about 53 53 having a difficult time when she did not accompany her husband when he was out to sea, we do not see her “needing” him. Rather, she simply enjoys having him around, which is very different than the Admiral’s dependence on his wife. What would have happened if Mrs. Croft was not in the carriage to correct her husband’s course? What would have happened if she was not conversant in things of a business nature? A man who is about to enter into a financial legal agreement who does not ask questions about taxes and other financial responsibilities indicates a man who would most certainly follow in the footsteps of Sir Elliot and Mr. Smith. The only thing we surmise about Mrs. Croft from the Admiral’s absence, is worry for his safety (and rightly so, for how safe is a man who cannot negotiate a carriage without his wife’s help) and “not knowing what to do with [herself]” (56). Surely, boredom and concern for her husband do not equate to the need the Admiral had for his wife’s knowledge, abilities, and company. Finally, we are left with Anne’s love interest, Wentworth. How does Wentworth fit into this argument? Where is his weakness and what does he represent? In contrast to Sir Elliot, some scholars, such as Kestner, see Wentworth as a representation of a new type of social class. Jeannie Sargent Judge agrees that in Persuasion Anne alters the boundaries placed on her, and as she breaks through gender barriers, Wentworth breaks through class barriers. The end result, she submits, is a marriage constructed of equals which anticipates and accommodates social change.5 Judge’s observations about Anne and Wentworth are both correct, and she is not alone in her argument that Wentworth and Anne represent a more

5Judge’s article is a reading of Persuasion through the lens of Jean Baker Miller’s work. She argues that by using Miller to look at Persuasion, readers are able to re-evaluate Austen’s feminism. Although most of her work centers around Anne and other female representations in the novel, her point about Wentworth and Anne’s equality in marriage, although brief, is valuable to this discussion. 54 54 equal relationship. In fact, one could argue that through Anne and Wentworth’s relationship, Austen is revealing coverture as a total fiction, that when two independent individuals unite in marriage, one does not need to cover the other. Rather, jointly they work toward a common cause within the family. In this case, the couple can ignore the fiction of coverture and the relationship within their marriage would follow the direction they choose together. The problem with this argument is that even though coverture was based on the legal fiction that man and wife were one, the actual legality of coverture was not fictitious. At any point in the marriage, a husband has the legal right to assume control over his wife’s moveable goods and legal identity; the law allows the husband to maintain power. Coverture can act as a “fiction” only because the men are not able or choose not to draw upon its legal power. I argue that the power that Anne would hold in the marital relationship is not freely given to her; she has it because Wentworth is too weak to exercise his right under coverture and his profession makes him an absent husband. Wentworth oscillates between weakness and strength throughout the novel. He is a man who believes that he needs to be stronger than the women he surrounds himself, yet we also see him fail to do so when the moment calls. He exerts power when he frees Anne from Walter’s grasp, quickly lose control when Louisa falls in Lyme, and admits to constant weakness when he is in Anne’s presence. In his proposal letter, Wentworth writes that he has been “weak and resentful” (187). He confesses to Anne, “You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. . . I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones” (187). Kramp’s interpretation of this letter is that Wentworth “willingly admits that he is overwhelmed by his emotions for the heroine, and he again offers himself as a 55 55 vulnerable lover” (137). Kramp’s language places power with Wentworth. Notice that Kramp determines it is “his emotions” which overpower Wentworth. Further, according to Kramp, he does so “willingly”, which indicates action with full conscious power. In actuality, the thing that Wentworth hears which “overpowers” him is Anne’s voice. She is the force behind his vulnerability. Everything he does, or thinks is for Anne—she controls his very mind. This is not the only time Wentworth is overpowered by a woman. Anne’s power in Lyme and Wentworth’s helplessness has been discussed above. What needs further analysis is what happened leading up to the fall. As they were walking down the steps to the lower Cobb, Louisa demands that Wentworth “jump her from the stiles” (86). When he advised against it, she jumped anyway. In his reflection of this moment Wentworth states, “she would not have been obstinate if I had not been weak” (145). His insightful statement signifies that Wentworth recognized his weakness: the inability to stand firm in his resolve and stop Louisa from doing something he did not want her to do. His weakness allowed Louisa to jump even though he disagreed with her; she did not yield because he was too weak to stop her—he was unable to control her. This does not show a man who chooses to be in an equal relationship with a woman; instead, it reveals that he believes he should be the one in control but fails to maintain that status. Some critics such as Elvira Casal argue that Wentworth’s demonstration of weakness in this scene is less about his character and more about his knowledge and experience with domesticity and women. Casal’s article follows the movement Wentworth makes from sailor to engaged man, and argues that as a sailor, his encounters with women were extremely limited; therefore, his knowledge and expectations of women were lacking. She points out that many sailors begin their careers as young boys and are separated from their families (and 56 56 society) for months on end. She reminds us that during this time, sailors are participating in a strictly male environment, left to make assumptions about women based on stereotypes and stories. In other words, the experience Wentworth had with women and the domestic sphere was almost non-existent. Casal insists the important point illustrated during the fall at Lyme is that “Wentworth, who is utterly competent in his professional life, is nevertheless in need of guidance—maybe even rescuing—in his private life” (152 italics added). As so clearly shown with the scene in Lyme, his status as a leader in the Navy does not translate into his relationships with women. On the contrary, his occupation as a sailor is the reason why Anne will be able to achieve any power in their relationship. I wish to emphasize a point Casal makes in her argument about the presence of men in domestic life. She clearly explains the demands of a naval occupation, which comes with months away from the family. She uses this point to support her argument that these separations from women are what cause Wentworth’s weakness in domestic life. What she doesn’t discuss is what happens to the women during this absence. While their husbands are away, wives are able to assume autonomy and independence in their lives. Margaret Hunt discusses the legal moves sailor made prior to embarking on a ship during the early 1700’s, revealing that many chose to issue power of attorney, naming their wives as executors. Hunt explains that the rights given to women in this legal document allow them control, both while their husbands are alive and after their husband’s death. She points out that the power of attorney “goes to considerable trouble, point by point, to restore everything coverture took away” (“The Sailor’s Wife” 151-152). During those months of separation, their husbands are not home to frequently silence them, or dictate to them what they need to do with their 57 57 finances. The legal rights that power of attorney gave to women assisted wives in gaining autonomy. In this case, the husband’s separation from both society and their wives gave women permission to assert power as demonstrated in the Harville’s relationship. Remember, it was Mrs. Harville who “determined the direction of all the party in what was to be their last walk” because it was her “opinion” that her husband had walked enough (85). The control she takes, both with voicing her opinion and directing the walking path of her husband, signifies a woman who is familiar with making and dictating decisions. Captain Harville’s physical handicap and months of absence empowered his wife. So, even though Anne will legally enter into coverture when she marries Wentworth, we presume that its effects won’t have a place in their marriage; because as a naval officer, Wentworth will not be present—he becomes an absent husband. Austen closes her novel with a nod to the domestic freedom Anne will enjoy during the absence of her husband. Speaking of Anne, Austen writes, “She gloried in being a sailor’s wife, but she must pay the tax of quick alarm for belonging to that profession which is, if possible, more distinguished in its domestic virtues than in its national importance” (199). Anne will experience concern for Wentworth’s safety during the war, which is the tax of the occupation. The value the navy brings to the English society, when considering its contribution to the wars, is significant. But, what Austen says is even “more distinguished” is the “domestic virtues” which are found in a sailor’s household. Those virtues are ones which value a wife’s voice and ignores the constrictions of coverture. The problem I see with this picture, is that those domestic households with absent husbands constitute a situation which would not apply to a large portion of the population at any time, even less in times of peace. 58 58

Austen creates a society in Persuasion where coverture is only as powerful as the men who use it. Husbands, in the world of this Jane Austen novel, cannot support and enforce that law during marriage. What happens, then, is that the successful autonomy of Austen’s heroines and the enforcement of coverture is dependent upon men. Although women appear to be marking out new territory, they are overshadowed by the immense amount of power the men still passively hold. Austen’s novel, which appears to solve the problem Wollstonecraft wrestled with in finding an ideal marriage, still falls short in providing a realistic and applicable portrayal of an optimal marriage.

CHAPTER 5: CONCLUDING BUT NOT DONE SPEAKING

In the end, we are left with two beautiful novels which work together to both emphasize the importance of women’s voices while attempting to solve the problems which occur in marriage. That they were unsuccessful in outlining an applicable, realistic marital relationship, highlights just how complex the issue is. In both Wollstonecraft’s and Austen’s time, there was a not an easy answer nor smooth way for women to obtain autonomy and voice in matrimony. Nevertheless, their works allowed for thought and conversation about the situation of married women. Studying these novels through the lens of coverture brings to light a damaging law; which, even though it claimed to protect, ended up imprisoning and silencing women. In Wollstonecraft’s novel, we have a bold, disturbing portrayal of the wrongs of woman, shocking in its description and demanding attention. Seeing married women silenced and suffering time after time forces the reader to ask why women must be subjected to such circumstances. Wollstonecraft shows us that regardless of how resourceful or independent a woman is, if matched with a tyrannical husband, she will be oppressed because the laws do not allow her to break free from that oppression. As Wollstonecraft contrasts the suffering of femes covert with the experiences of femes sole, she places a spotlight on those marital relationships. Her struggle with and failure to produce a circumstance where a married woman can consistently enjoy autonomy and voice (rhetorical and audible) demonstrates how convoluted the issue was, and her inability to provide a solution for women prompts us to look at what other authors propose. Austen’s representation of voice in Persuasion clearly shows a preference for women to speak. The suffering Anne experiences at the beginning of Persuasion when she does not speak her rhetorical voice acts as a cautionary tale. 60 60

As Anne moves toward autonomy, she also chooses marriage, but that marriage is to a man whom she knows will not only be absent but is also unable to control her, just as he was unable to control Louisa in Lyme. The marital relationships Austen presents favor female voice and autonomy. But in contrast to Wollstonecraft, we do not see independent women matched with tyrannical husbands. As I have shown, we are given quite the opposite. Austen’s husbands demonstrate weaknesses which necessitate their wives taking and maintaining control in the relationships. The absent nature of a nautical career allows navy wives to assume and keep controlling power in their relationships. Looking at these two authors side by side, we are given two very different representations of marriage. For Wollstonecraft, marriage equated to suffering and silencing—she was not able to find a way for married women to live both autonomously and harmoniously with their husbands. For Austen, marriage was the end goal and wives possessed an enormous amount of power and influence; so much so, that in their absence, husbands were not able to function. Just as Austen used Anne’s silenced voice as a cautionary tale, those relationships which followed expectations and laws of coverture did not last, as seen with Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Even though we do not have concrete facts to prove Austen’s awareness of or even sympathetic feeling toward Wollstonecraft, we cannot deny her answer to Wollstonecraft’s dilemma and coverture’s complications, a point Miriam Ascarelli adequately makes in her article, “A Feminist Connection: Jane Austen and Mary Wollstonecraft.” Ascarelli cites Austen’s awareness that marriage was an economic institution, her support of women as rational creatures, and the necessity of women being able to think for themselves as proof of Austen’s sympathies 61 61 toward Wollstonecraft. She further argues that the omission of Wollstonecraft’s name in Austen’s novels and letters reflects a careful move to avoid scandal (Godwin had published the “tell all” biography in 1798) and politics. Nevertheless, I agree with Ascarelli, the emphasis and importance Austen places on women’s voice in marriage is proof of a move toward a new relationship void of oppressing laws and customs. These types of moves set the framework for change; which finally came with the passing of the 1870 Married Women’s Property Act, nullifying many of the negative ramifications of coverture. Wollstonecraft’s and Austen's novels remind us of the fight that began so long ago. Even though the law of coverture no longer legally exists, countless wives are still struggling against its ramifications. Women are fighting for a voice in marriage, for rights to employment outside of the domestic realm, positions in boardrooms, and powerful seats at the head of the table. No doubt there have been trailblazers along the way: women who have clawed their way and made their own platform from which to sound their voice. Many have done it alone, some with tolerant husbands, and a lucky few with supportive, encouraging ones. However, the tradition of the law is still engrained in much of our culture; women have been silenced for too long, and women are still having to fight. I see this functioning in conservative homes and discussions about the roles of husband and wife and I wonder what Wollstonecraft and Austen would say to all of this, over 200 years after their works have been published? Would they be disappointed in the chains which still bind women? Would they be frustrated that some wives are still having to justify their desires to pursue education and a career? Would Wollstonecraft put a sympathetic arm around my shoulder as she sees me aggressively fighting for my education and rights to a career? Would she proudly nod as I frequently tell my daughters that they can be doctors, artists, 62 62 writers, or professional ballet dancers if they want, all while having a family? Would Austen applaud the voice I found in my twenties, rebuke the voice I lost the first 7 years of my marriage and celebrate the voice I rediscovered these past 4 years? I believe they would do this and more. They would plead for women to stand together and fight against customs and laws which silence us. It is only when we understand our past we can really begin to change our future. We need to be aware of coverture, as its very existence is responsible for much of the silencing women experience. When we understand both the injustice and consequences of such a law, we give ourselves permission to break free from years of tradition. Furthermore, we allow ourselves to question other laws which claim to protect, but in actuality, are muzzling those who are not in positions of power. Finding our own voices allows us to help others obtain theirs and together we can fight for true equality and respect . WORKS CITED

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